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peachtarto · 7 months

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Now or Never

Pairing : Luke Castellan x reader

Word Count :

Summary : Luke missed his chance to ask you an important question, and is painfully unaware of it.

Warnings: mostly fluff! nothing crazy- Luke is dumb, Clarisse is an overprotective bestie, talk of self-doubt etc.

Masterlist here!

A/N : thinking of making this a little series of moments in your relationship- let me know if that’s something you guys would like!

‘Don’t you think it’s a little much?’ You questioned, eyeing your own reflection with what some might call a generous amount of scrutiny.

Silena gave no indication that she’d heard and continued talking, ‘there’ll be such good food, and wine of course, lots and lot of wine..’

The pins in your hair were already beginning to ache, and you tried not to wince as she added yet another one to the elegant braid she was painstakingly creating.

‘- imagine if we made this much fuss for our birthdays,’ she continued, ‘like, I get that he’s the god of festivity but I’ve got to question why he wants to party with a load of hormonal teenagers. Not that I’m complaining, we could all use a good party.’

Silena was already dressed: a deep purple gown of silk accented with golden cuffs, and little combs fashioned like gilded laurel leaves swept her hair away from her face. She looked beautiful, and there was not a doubt in your mind that she was the daughter of Aphrodite.

She’d picked out your dress which had been a relief, a soft chiffon that seemed to float when you moved. It was simple but elegant, she’d insisted- perfect for a daughter of Athena. She’d also said that the hair should match, but it’d been half an hour since she’d started and it was starting to feel everything but simple.

‘And can you believe we’re allowed to switch tables tonight? I can’t wait! Charles said we’d sit together obviously and I’m sure the Hermes boys will join as and..’

Her smile faltered when she saw the look on your face and she quickly halted her movements, ‘oh, don’t you like it?’

‘No no, it’s beautiful!’ You stammered quickly; she’d curled and brainded your hair back in a thick, loose plait with little gold pins shimmering throughout. Even in cabin 10, her skills were unrivalled. ‘I just- do you think it’s too much?’ You questioned again.

‘Too much?’ She scoffed, and then her full lips parted in a dazzling smile, ‘of course it’s too much, that’s the point! We want every boy in this camp on their knees! Figuratively of course.’

You tried to hide the smile that tugged on your lips, ‘You’ve already got Charles drooling after you non-stop, leave some for the rest of us.’

‘Some?’ She said and grinned rather fiendishly, ‘or do you want me to leave just a certain son of Hermes for you?’

You rolled your eyes and gave her a smooth, and rather horrible gesture as she went back to toying with your hair, giggling to herself.

Silena had been the one to introduce you to Luke two years prior. She’d gracefully swept you into her circle the moment you’d arrived in camp, convinced you would be claimed by her mother too. Had Luke not intervened and taken you to cabin 11 she probably would’ve had you sleeping top to toe in her bunk; she’d reluctantly handed you over, but not before she’d seen the look that had passed between the two of you. Love at first sight she’d insisted, and maybe she’d been mistaken on his end, but she hadn’t on yours.

‘You know, he really does like you. I can tell, and you should believe me because it’s literally my thing.’ She sighed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She pulled and prodded at a few loose hairs until she seemed satisfied, then dragged you over to the long mirror at the back of the cabin.

You didn’t know how she’d managed it, but for once you didn’t cringe at the reflection you saw and a part of you couldn’t quite believe what stared back. There was no denying she was a master at her craft.

‘You look so beautiful!’ Silena squealed, her hands clasped together in pride. Then, without warning she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug that had the air leaving your lungs. ‘Tonight’s the night, for both of us, I can feel it!’

You hoped she was right as you followed her out of the cabin, towards the glittering lights in the pavilion.

Luke stood with Charles and Chris at the edge of the party, sipping slowly on the glass of wine in his hand. He supposed Mr D had been granted a night of reprieve.

‘Seriously man, chill out,’ he whispered over Beckendorf’s shoulder, ‘she’ll be here. Keep frowning like that and you’ll pop a blood vessel.’

He could sense Charles shifting in his feet nervously and his mouth twitched slightly, he knew the feeling all too well. He’d been on edge all day too. Chris was smirking too, but his was all smugness; he’d asked Clarisse outright to attend the party with him and much to everyone’s surprise, she’d said yes immediately, which was lucky for him because the alternative would almost certainly have been the loss of a limb.

‘How can it possibly take this long to get ready?’ Charles said, turning to face Luke. It was odd to see the son of Hephaestus so flustered when he was normally immune to the whims of teenage hormones; apparently he was not at all immune to the power Silena Beauregard seemed to hold over him. ‘Maybe she’s not coming man, we should just go before- oh..’ he trailed off. His eyes went starry and Luke whipped his head around to see what had entranced his friend.

There was Silena in her finery, tossing her hair over a shoulder as she swept into the pavilion. She threw a dangerously beautiful grin at Charles who was beginning to look a little like he might faint.

‘Hi Charles,’ she offered as she sauntered over. Anyone else might’ve missed the shake in her voice, but Luke caught the slightly nervous wobble of her tone and smiled. Good for Beckendorf.

‘You look great Silena,’ he managed to cough out. He quickly eyed Luke who gave an tiny nod of approval as if to say ‘keep going buddy!’

‘I know,’ she sighed dreamily, giving a little twirl of her dress before looping her arm through Charles’ who was now definitely holding his breath. Silena giggled and patted his chest sweetly before throwing a mischievous glare at Luke, ‘Just wait till you see her, I think you’ll get a little breathless too Castellan. Now come on Charlie, let’s get a drink.’

Luke watched her lead his friend away to where Chris stood with an arm slung around Clarisse’s waist; she’d opted for a gown of stormy grey adorned with tiny silver chains, as close to armour as she could get he guessed. She looked slightly terrifying, until Chris whispered something in her ear that had a blushing like crazy and stepping even closer into his side.

‘They make a great couple, don’t you think?’

Luke spun around quickly at the sound of your voice and cursed silently, Silena had been right. All the air left his lungs in a great breath and he was instantly lightheaded at the sight of you.

Devastating was the only word that came to his mind. Truly devastating. You could’ve walked into Olympus then and there and they probably would’ve pronounced you a goddess in an instant. He was struck dumb, and silent. He wanted to say something about how beautiful you looked, or how he’d been wrapped around your delicate finger the day you’d walked into camp; instead his frantic brain settled on, ‘nice dress, did you borrow it from Silena?’

You flinched. ‘No. We were sent a trunk to pick from from her mother.’

‘Oh.’ Was all he could reply as his gaze raked over you again. ‘That’s awfully nice of her.’

‘Very.’ You said through gritted teeth, trying to stop the scarlet blush you could feel rising to your cheeks. What was his problem? It wasn’t unusual for Luke to be blunt, he always struggled to keep his opinions to himself and it had gotten you both in hot water a hundred times before; but it was unusual for him to be blunt with you.

He’d been distant all week, he’d managed to miss three sparring sessions with you and counsellor duties on several occasions. The first few times Chris had been polite enough to make excuses for him, but when the two of you walked into the arena one morning to find Luke and Travis swinging swords at eachother, he’d stayed silent. He didn’t have to tell you what was already painfully obvious. Luke wasn’t ill, and hadn’t ’slept in late’, he’d just been avoiding spending any amount of time with you. You hadn’t had any idea why; and now, standing in the pavilion with the air thinning in between you both, you were even more confused.

He ran his eyes over your dress yet another time and something seemed to snap in your chest. ‘If you’re going to keep judging my outfit,’ you managed to spit out, ‘do it at the dinner table, I’m starving and don’t have the energy to defend myself. Let’s go sit with the others.’

You span away from him so quickly you missed him opening and closing his mouth as he tried to explain himself. As you stalked towards the table your friends had gathered around you must’ve been wearing a murderous expression, because Silena quirked her eyebrow at him with a face that said ‘what did you say?’ He responded with a small shrug before slipping into the seat opposite you.

Luke tried, and failed, to catch your eye throughout dinner. Food came and went, and glasses of a sweet amber wine refilled themselves as soon as the last drop hit the drinker’s lips. Silena had made her way through at least five glasses by his count, and was whispering something in Charles’ ear that had the man choking on his strawberry tart. You’d barely touched yours, and had politely declined his offer to get you something else to drink. You’d barely touched your dinner either, pushing things around your plate with your fork until Connor had unceremoniously dumped the contents of it onto his own. He felt he should apologise for his brother’s behaviour, but when he’d tried, you’d turned to watch the campers dancing by the fire.

The soft light from the flames flickered over the planes of your face and he knew he shouldn’t stare, but after starving himself of you for almost a week, he was finding it hard to look away. If he was honest with himself, it had been almost impossible to endure. You’d spent almost every day together for two years; a week apart had him feeling like he was missing a limb.

But a week apart was better than a week of watching male campers saunter up to you in a flurry of proposals. He’d managed to stick around long enough to see two Ares boys crash and burn and that was more than enough. If the failures were that bad, seeing you agree to attend the party with someone would probably have finished him off. He wondered which insufferable git you’d given in to, which one you’d been stood up by.

Curious, he leaned forward and asked loud enough to get your attention- ‘where’s your date?’

You slid your eyes away from the dancers and faced Luke. He was toying with the stem of his glass. Your throat tightened, and your face warmed uncomfortably. ‘I don’t have one.’

‘What?’ He asked incredulously.

‘Loads of people came alone Luke.’ You said replied quietly, keenly aware of the sudden silence of the conversations between everyone else at the table. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘I know, I just thought you would’ve put someone out of their misery. Every guy at camp must’ve asked you.’

‘Almost every guy.’ Chris whispered into his drink, rolling his eyes.

‘A few asked, yes.’ You murmured.

‘And you came alone anyway?’

You could’ve sworn Chris was wincing now, and Clarisse had the good sense to find the lights strung above the tables incredibly interesting all of a sudden. Silena however, looked like she was about to explode. You didn’t even know where to begin, your cheeks weren’t warm anymore, they were burning.

‘Yes.’ You ground out, hoping he’d take the hint and keep his mouth shut for once.

Luke went to speak, but Charles cut in before he could begin. ‘We should go dance!’ He declared, slapping his knees over-enthusiastically and standing so quickly he nearly toppled over his chair. The others rose with murmurs of agreement, eager to get away from what was becoming an increasingly awkward conversation.

‘You guys go ahead,’ you said, rising from your chair ‘I’m going to get some fresh air.’

You hoped no one would mention that you were already outside, surrounded by fresh air, and thankfully no one did. Silena gave you an apologetic look but you shook it off. The lights suddenly seemed much too bright, and the table of your friends was starting to feel like an audience to your embarrassment. As they all walked towards the fire you began in the opposite direction, lifting your dress slightly to allow your feet to travel quickly towards the cabins.

Luke felt Silena’s hand meet the back of his head in a swift slap before he could reach out to stop it.

‘You are as dense as old bread Castellan!’ She hissed as he cradled his neck. The boys were looking at him disapprovingly, but Clarisse was just glaring at him like she was sizing him up for a fight.

‘Chris where’s my knife?’ She asked coldly, holding her hand out in her boyfriend’s direction.

‘Woah- what did I do?’ Luke exclaimed, which earned him a hard flick right in the centre of his forehead. Whoever said Aphrodite’s children weren’t vicious fighters was beginning to sound like a goddam liar, he thought.

‘Do you know how many guys she turned down for tonight?’ Silena continued, ‘almost every guy at camp! And do you know why Captain No Clue?’

Luke just stared blankly until she let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Because she was waiting for you to ask her! I was hoping you’d pull your finger out by the end of the week but you didn’t, and you let her come alone.’

He flinched. Silena’s face tightened and her dark eyes flicked to Charles. Something unsaid flashed between them before she turned her gaze back on Luke; her anger was gone, replaced with something strangely close to pity.

‘You wanted to ask her, didn’t you?’ She asked- carefully. Her eyes were beginning to crinkle like she was about to burst into tears. She dashed forward and forced him down into a tight hug. ‘Oh Luke, I’m so stupid!’

Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘Daughter of the goddess of love and you didn’t see this one coming? Even Chris figured this one out!’ She chided, then added sweetly in his direction, ‘no offence babe.’

He thought of every moment he’d spent with you; the hours of sparring sessions under the heat of the summer sun, the picnics out in the strawberry fields, sneaking between your cabins in the middle of the night to swap stories of your lives before all of this. He’d known the risks of falling for you, and he’d done it anyway. He’d thought about telling you a hundred times. He had thought about telling you that he didn’t want or expect anything from you in return, that he just needed you to know how he felt because it was torture to suffer it in silence. Over the months he’d managed to convince himself that you didn’t feel anything close to what he felt for you, and had resigned himself to living in the wake of your existence.

Luke’s heart stumbled, taking all the confusion and doubt with it, he blurted, ‘I should go after her,’ and started after you, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Even at a fast-paced jog, he only managed to catch up with you when you were rushing up the stairs to your cabin, the skirts of your dress billowing out behind you.

‘Wait up!’ he shouted through heavy breaths.

You didn’t let him continue and just increased your pace, rushing to get to the door. If you could make it inside and shut him out, perhaps he wouldn’t see the tears that had begun fall. A small part of you ached to stop and turn to him, but you knew what was coming. Silena would have tried to intervene once you’d left, and he was probably coming after you to let you down gently. You weren’t sure you could survive that.

‘Gods will you slow down!’ Luke yelled, ‘I want to talk to you!’

‘Don’t bother,’ you said bluntly, ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

‘Oh yeah? What am I going to say?’

He’d taken the Athena cabin steps two at a time and was right behind you now. You could hear his ragged breathing, had he ran here? He must really want to get it over with, you thought bitterly. ‘Does it matter? Just go back to the party Luke, they’ll be missing you.’

‘It matters to me. I don’t want to be there if you’re not.’ He said softly and reached out to grab your hand. His fingers grazed your own, warm and steadfast- patiently waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t, you couldn’t bare it.

As you turned to face him fully you realised you were close enough to share breath. In other circumstances you might’ve stared up at him with longing; now all there seemed to be was the awful sinking feeling that you were about to lose him.

You opted to not meet his eyesight, and instead studied the scuffed wood of the cabin porch beneath your feet.

‘Then why didn’t you ask me to go with you?’ You managed to ask. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin like a brand. ‘I thought we were friends Luke, I thought that would be enough to get you to tolerate me for one evening so neither of us had to go alone.’

‘That’s not..’ he took a deep breath before he continued. Now or never, he thought, and opted for now.

‘I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want to go as your friend. I wanted to go as your date. I knew you’d say no, because every guy here was chalking up how to ask you themselves and I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand it. I’d prepared myself to see you with someone else tonight and it caught me off guard to see you alone. I had all these things I wanted to say to you, about how beautiful you looked, but I panicked and said some really stupid stuff back there. And i’m sorry, for all of it.’

It was your turn to take a deep breath, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his own. The air was too tight, humming between your bodies, between your joined hands.

‘Ask me now then.’ You dared.

He was silent for long enough that you dared to look up and meet his eyes. You were sure your expression was mirrored on his own: shock, longing, and then something like amusement.

He was smiling like a kid on Christmas at your offer, broad and unrestrained. ‘You want me to ask you to go to the party with me? Now? After I’ve just poured my heart out?’

‘If you don’t want to that fine.’ You teased, a small smile returning to your face. ‘What was it you said about every guy at camp?’

Luke let out a laugh and took a step closer, ‘I don’t care about the party. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow, today, hell let’s go now. I don’t care. Just go out with me. I’m not waiting another two years for this chance.’

‘Of course I’ll go out with you Castellan.’ You replied softly. You didn’t even have to think about your answer, you’d been preparing it for months.

‘Really?’

‘Yes really.’ You laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Luke leaned down to brush his mouth against your blushing cheek. You thought you might burst then and there as he pulled you into his chest to whisper in your ear, ‘you look beautiful. You are beautiful. Always. Even covered in sweat during sparring practice, or windswept from the chariot races. I can never look away from you.’

He was blushing too when he pulled away, leaving you staring up at him, breathless again. His smile was nervous as he said, ‘I want to do this properly, I’ll plan something great I promise. But for now, I would be honoured if you’d come back to the party with me, as my date.’

You quirked an eyebrow. ‘Will you dance with me?’

‘Of course I’ll dance with you,’ Luke said, wrapping an arm around your waist, ‘I plan to show you off in fact. I’m pretty sure I’ve just achieved the impossible as far as the guys here are aware. I reserve bragging rights.’

#luke castellan x reader #imagine #imagines #percy jackson #luke castellan #fic #annabeth chase #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #disney #clarisse la rue #silena beauregard #charles beckendorf #chris rodriguez #camp half blood #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #charlie bushnell

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tiredmamaissy · 2 years

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Behind the Façade

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Ao’nung (20) x Fem Metkayina Reader y/n (20)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rut cycle, no foreplay, mostly sub ao’nung, mostly dom reader, slight power struggle, creampie/breeding kink, knotting, smidge of fluff, spitting mouth (kinda), awkward moment during sex, profanity

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: As requested. Bestie, this is for you @jiafeimagic

Synopsis: Ao’nung unexpectedly goes into rut in the middle of the night. You calm your mate. Simple dimple. Enjoy

Intro:

You and Ao’nung have been mated since the sully family sought uturu in your village. He likes to put on a brave face – a façade that he’s this big, bad bully, when really he’s softer than the flesh between your legs. His rut is more like a heat, similar to what you experience monthly - lasting for 3 days. You allow him to keep up his façade in public, being his little bitch that follows his every order. But behind closed doors, he’s yours to do whatever you want with.

----

“Y/n.” Ao’nung pants.

“Hmm?” You croak, trying to open your eyes.

All you can see is the luminescence of your own skin. Feeling around with your hand, you find that the space next to you in the bed is empty. You sit up and rub your eyes, hoping to figure out where your mate’s voice is coming from.

“Y/n.” He repeats, this time in a more frantic manner.

“What is it? you ask, worried that something is wrong with him. “Where are you?”

You squint your eyes, and scan the marui pod, looking for your mate. Two heavy lidded, purple eyes float in the corner of your room, watching you intently. They're dazed and full of lust. A sinking sensation plagues your stomach when you realize what’s happening.

Ao’nung’s rut came early.

You squint your eyes, trying to make out the figure in front of you. He's sitting in the corner, with his knees to his chest and his head in his hands.

“Sorry to wake you.” He grits his teeth. “I just... I can’t take it anymore.” He huffs, dropping his head between his knees.

You get out of bed and approach him slowly. “It’s alright, I know how intense your ruts are, my love.” You hum, kneeling to his level to stroke the length of his queue. “You should have woken me earlier.”

He’s trembling, shaking his head from side to side in his knees and panting heavily – he must have been enduring this all night long. Leaning into your touch, he rubs his face into your bosom, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You shush him, rubbing circles into his back.

“Shh. Shh, baby boy. You’ll be alright, I’m here now.” You reassure him, laying his legs flat on the floor as you mount him.

His legs are now between your knees as you tower over him, shortening the distance between your hot bodies.

“I want this.” Ao’nung whines, cupping the soft flesh between your legs. “...please.” He whimpers, looking up at you through the dip of your breasts, with inebriated, glowing eyes - begging for some relief.

“How could I ever say no to these eyes?” You whisper, moving his hands to your waist.

Using a single finger to lift his chin, you kiss him fervently, swirling your tongue around his. You shuffle even closer to him, lowering your pelvis onto his crotch – sticky from his own slick. He’s already rock-hard, writhing his pelvis into the softness between your thighs. You share each other’s hot breaths between wet kisses as your hands explore every inch of your bodies.

He’s whimpering quietly into your mouth, succumbing to the urges of his rut, trying to fuck you through your loincloth. His movements are impatient – full of desperation and desire for his mate. Unable to form a coherent thought, he allows his body to speak to you, begging to be inside of you. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping it tightly, using it as leverage to grind even harder against you.

You move your sloppy kisses down his face, planting bruise-like marks on his jawline and neck. You linger there, filling your lungs with his potent pheromones, intoxicating your body with his scent. His pheromones remind you of the salty ocean, mixed with the scent of the sap of a mangrove. You know that you wouldn’t be able to satiate him if you weren’t high, too – his rut is just too intense for that.

“Tsheylu, Ao’nung.” You mumble into his neck, moving your hand to the base of his queue.

His movements are eager, tugging at your queue to bring it closer to his. It sends small shocks down your spine as he makes the bond eagerly. In an instant, the heat and fogginess of his rut transfers to you, putting you in a trance, too. Your hips pick up speed, whining and grinding against his member whilst he kisses your shoulders.

“...please, y/n.” He lets out a lengthy mewl, squeezing his eyes shut. “...f-fuck me.”

His eyes fly open, glossy and glowing in the dim light. You witness his pupils morph into slits. He’s now at the height of it, and if you didn’t give it to him soon – he would just take it for himself. This part of his rut always frightened you a bit, he would go from begging on his knees to forcefully-taking-what’s-his in a split second. You slip the thin cloth covering your breasts over your head, and fiddle with the knot of your loincloth with trembling fingers.

“Hurry. I need you now.” He grunts urgently, untying his own loincloth in a hurry.

“I’m trying, I’m trying” you pant, struggling with the knot due to the darkness of the room.

In frustration, Ao’nung rips your loincloth down the middle and throws it aside. He’s fighting with himself, trying his hardest to be gentle with you, but he just wants to shove his knot inside of you already. He’s rubbing his veiny cock against your sticky cunt, getting off from the feeling of your clit rolling against his tip.

“Stretching. Do you need it?” he mumbles, as his fingers burrow their way between your hips, frantically searching for your hole.

“No.” You yank his hand out by his wrist.

“What I need is...” you line up his tip with your slippery hole, “...this huge cock.” You moan loudly in his ear as you slowly slide his entire length inside of you.

He lets loose a lengthy, guttural groan, finally getting the attention his cock has been begging for. He softens under your touch, burying his face into your chest, hiding his expression from you as he hums into your breasts. Gripping him by the neck, you push him away, and stare at his erotic expression.

“I like seeing your face when I ride, understood?” You purr.

Your taken aback when you realize why he hid his face. You can feel his cock throbbing in your cunt, already emptying it’s seed inside you. He’s gritting his teeth, trying to bite back his lewd noises as he rocks into you, ensuring that your womb gets every drop of his sticky cum. The pure bliss – the ecstasy that he’s feeling from the gummy, hot walls that clench around his cock is unbearable.

“Are you cumming? Already?" You ask quickly, trying to hold back your laugh.

"All from me putting it in? Fucking pathetic.” You spit, watching his face contort from overstimulation as you start moving your hips.

“Haah.. ah... Fuck.” He lets out choked pants, glaring at you through his slits. His cheeks redden even more, he's clearly embarrassed by his quick release. He buries his face back into your breasts.

“I’m sorry, you just feel so fucking good.” He huffs, pushing himself even deeper into you, ensuring his cum makes its way into your womb.

“Shit. Still going? Was that not enough for you?" You grab a fist full of hair at the back of his head and pull him from your chest, looking directly into his eyes.

"Fuck... trying to drill yourself into my womb like that.” You drop your gaze to your sticky pelvises.

“Such a pitiful sight...” You moan, looking back up into his drunk, pleading eyes. “Now, beg.” You whine your hips on him ever so slightly, massaging his cockhead with your cervix.

He clenches his jaw and swallows his spit. “Please.” He growls begrudgingly.

You start lifting your hips off him. “Oh? That didn’t sound very genuine. I see I am not needed anymore.”

“Wait. Fuck. P-please y/n.” he grabs your hips, pulling them back down onto his cock. “Please... I need you. I can’t live without you. Please, I can’t take this anymore.” He sobs, looking up at you with watery eyes.

A grin plasters your face as you start riding his cock, firmly gripping his throat for support.

“I love when you listen to me.” You grind onto his cock, already feeling a little bulge growing at the base of it. “Whoa... I can feel your knot already, Ao’nung.” You whisper, feeling your face heat up.

You glance at him to see that his eyes are closed – face contorted from how good your pussy feels around his cock. He really looks like he might cum inside of you again, all from just a few thrusts of your hips.

“Woman, you feel too good.” He groans, dipping his head back.

“I know. I know, baby boy.” You moan, feeling his tip poking against your sweet spot. “You feel good too... I can feel you heating up inside of me. Gonna cum for me again?” You chuckle under your breath.

Ao’nung’s body is taking control, thrusting his hips upwards as they chase the warmth of the slick that coats the walls of your cunt. He’s whimpering from the overstimulation – but he can’t stop rutting into you. His sweet, little moans are becoming louder in your ears as he buries his face into your shoulder. You can feel his cock jumping inside you, ready to burst and fill you to the brim with his seed.

“Talk to me, Ao’nung. What do you want?” you breathe, picking up speed.

“Haa.. ah. I want... Ngh – I want to get you pregnant...” he whines, looking back up into your eyes. “Please... bear my child, y/n...” his head slumps forward, back into your chest. “Please...” his pleads are muffled from the plump flesh of your breasts. “...I’ll do anything”

“Good boy.” You moan, chasing your own climax now.

“Ugh... it is coming, y/n. L-let me cum inside of you... Please.” he whines loudly, manhandling your hips.

Through the bond, you can feel the heat pooling in his chest as he wills himself not to cum until you give him permission. Not only that, but you can feel his enormous, veiny knot poking at your entrance, begging to rip you into two. Knowing that this is only the beginning of his 3-day-long rut, you want to start slow – so not to tire yourself out.

“No knotting yet, my love.” You pant, trying to lift your hips off him. He drives his fingernails into your hips and shoves you back down onto his knot. “Fuck. Control yourself, Ao’nung.” You whimper, feeling it stretch you out.

“Please...my love.” he begs.

He’s pushing his cock even deeper into you, trying to break through the walls that prevent his knot from popping inside of you. He’s completely consumed by his urges to turn you into a vessel to carry the heir to Olo’eyktan – to carry his son. You see his thoughts, as he imagines you heavily pregnant with his child. Soon, you feel this urge too, wanting to be his little breeding bitch.

“Oh, fuck it.” You huff, going over the edge from the mere image flashing through your head. “Fill me up, Ao’nung. Give me your fat knot.”

He rams his knot into you in one quick thrust, forcefully holding you down onto his pelvis as he cums deep inside you yet again. His tip is drilling through your cervix, directly into your womb – spurting thick ropes of his hot seed inside of you. It sends you over the edge, finally allowing yourself to release your own orgasm, pulsing around his cock as your walls milk him dry.

You slump into your mate, who’s finally feeling some sort of relief. You look down into his face as the room is becoming brighter from the suns emergence, and see that his heavy lids are finally closing – covering his dark blue eyes. He rocks into you every so often, putting you into a state of comatose, too. You’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down from your high.

Only an hour passes until he’s tugging at your entrance, trying to pull his knot out of you – pinching himself and you in the process. This is what you didn’t want from the get-go, but it’s too late now and his rut has only just started. He’s nipping at your neck, tracing your jugular with his pointed fangs, silently asking to mark his mate. You too are deep in the thick of his pheromones, feeling woozy and jaded.

“Yes... do it, ma’ nung.” You hum, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth, piercing your skin as he marks you as his.

His urges take the forefront, as he thrusts in and out of you causing his partially deflated knot to pop in and out of you. This continues for the rest of the day, in the same position. You’re completely numb now, unsure of how many times he’s knotted you, as your abused hole is just dripping with his cum.

“Ao’nung...” you croak, trying to get off him for the fifth time. “I’m hungry... and thirsty.”

“Mmnn... come” he kisses you sloppily, spitting in your mouth as a poor attempt at quenching your thirst. “...better?” he moans, still deep in a trance.

“No... skxwang. I need real water.” you groan, pushing him off you and crawling away.

He pounces on you, knocking you on your stomach as he mounts you again. He slides himself inside of you and starts bucking his hips, desperate to breed you once more - despite the extreme overstimulation. Both of you were fucked out raw, but he couldn’t help it – he couldn’t stop himself. You lay there and take it, just grateful to finally be in a new position.

----

You open your eyes to see a bright room. The sun was out and shining vibrantly. The dead weight on top of you makes you winded, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You look behind you to see Ao’nung slumped over your shoulder, sleeping soundly. You groan from the soreness, reaching down to your pelvis to feel if he’s still inside of you.

The answer is simple – yes. He is. You feel a little more, to find that his knot has finally gone down enough to pull him out of you. You shove him off your back, and crawl towards the bucket of water in the corner of the pod – breaking tsaheylu.

Gulping loudly, you chug the water, quenching your extreme thirst at last. You pull away and finally take a deep breath, looking back at your mate. You're met with his delirious gaze. You sympathize with him, feeling awful that it took three full days of this to calm down.

“Oh, baby boy.” You mumble, shuffling back over to him with a cup of water. You stroke his hair – wet from sweat. “It’s over now.” You pull his limp body into your lap, supporting his head with your breast.

“Drink.” He laps up the water greedily, not realizing how thirsty he was until it wet his dry lips.

“Y/n. I love you. Only you truly see me.” He stares longingly at you, with his light blue, teary eyes.

“I love you, too ma’ nung.” You lean down to kiss his wet lips.

He pulls away from you, panting heavily. “No. I mean it. I will stay by your side for the rest of my life.”

You smile at him, feeling the warmth in your heart, and kiss him gently.

----

After cleaning, feeding and watering one another you both walk out of your marui pod to be met with the bewildered eyes of no one other than Lo’ak, Neteyam and Roxto. Ao’nung slips back into his usual self, walking towards the na’vi with an aggressive demeanor. You follow closely behind him, with your eyes locked onto your feet. It was obvious that you two were loud enough for them to hear you.

“What is wrong with you freaks?” Ao’nung spits, puffing out his chest.

Lo’ak laughs, mocking Ao’nung. “Oooh, y/n. ‘only you truly see me’.”

“Lo’ak! Come on brother. I thought the ‘I will stay by your side for the rest of -” Neteyam taunts, being cut off by Ao’nung shoving him in the chest. Roxto tries to keep his smile to himself, finding the whole ordeal amusing.

“Agh.” Ao’nung spit, rolling his eyes before turning around and walking away.

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3K notes · View notes

sserasin · 6 months

Note

hii!! i absolutely loveee your writing <33 what do we think about mean!g!p julie fucking you dumb and letting her bestie, natty ride your face until she’s cumming all over you? they don’t stop until you’re a crying mess that’s stuffed full of julie’s cum <3

the way she eyes me down excites me

cw nsfw under cut, female reader, g!p julie, mean dom julie, soft dom natty ??, threesome, oral (natty receiving), degradation, unprotected sex, kinda dumbification, overstimulation, mommy kink, choking

thank you for the support ^_^ sorry this took so long though :(

“what a fucking cumslut,” julie laughs meanly, raising your legs to your chest. she slides her cock through your folds, gathering your juices on her cock to make it an easier slide in. “you’re so desperate it’s kinda cute,” she pouts.

even if you wanted to reply, you couldn’t. because natty was sitting on your face, all her weight landing on you.

natty giggles breathlessly, rolling her hips on your face as the angle opens her wide for you, “she’s a good girl.”

“only when you fuck it into her,” she mutters, rolling her eyes as she suddenly fills you to the brim with her cock. the sudden impalement makes you gasp and choke, losing whatever breath you had left. your chest tightens as natty gets up for a moment only for julie to slam her back down on you. “don’t show her mercy. she doesn’t deserve it, do you, baby?” she pats your thigh, widening them as she begins to pound into your sweet cunt.

you don’t bother to respond, lapping at natty’s hole as your nose hits her clit. she moans, hand going down to grip your hair and fuck herself on your tongue, “fuck, fuck,” she gasps. you grip onto her thighs, not allowing her to move off of you as your tongue dips into her hole with fervor. your nose hitting her clit at the perfect time makes her see stars, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

julie watches, fingers twisting at your nipples, “dirty little slut is so desperate she’ll let mommy’s friend ride her face,” her cock twitches in you, skin smacking against each other’s. the sight of her best friend rutting her pussy on your face makes her go faster, making sure to hit your sweet spot with the tip of her cock. “you like that? you like that two girls like you enough to let you come on their cock and let you eat them out?” when you nod, nose hitting natty’s clit again, she grips your hair tighter and grinds down on your face, feeling your tongue circle around in her hole. “g-god, you really are a whore,” julie sounds in disbelief when your pussy clenches around her. “it makes me wonder what else you—you’ll do for some dick in you.”

“maybe w-we can record—” natty’s body tenses as she moans and stutters through her words when you suck at her clit, “—n-next time.”

the thought of them recording and rewatching it back… you whimper in natty’s pussy.

the sound of skin slapping against one another, moaning, and the wetness of your cunt squelching around julie’s cock fills the room. it’s hot, and your body is warm and sticky, but you know they won’t let you go until you make them both come. at the motivation, you shake your head as your tongue fucks into natty, going up to suck at her clit as she shrieks at the sudden switch up. your hair is being tugged at painfully, but you couldn’t give a shit.

“oh, oh, shit,” natty’s sweet voice is airy and high pitched as her back arches, forcing herself down more on you as her orgasm continues growing near. “r-right there! oh my god oh my g—”

she released all over your face, continuing to ride her orgasm out on your face and slowing down before she lets up. her chest is heaving and you have the urge to play and suck on her sweet tits, but you know that’s for another time. if julie let you.

“you’re really good,” natty giggles, still catching her breath as she smiles down at you. your face is wet, covered by her essence and she thinks you couldn’t look more hotter than you do right now. it makes her want to join in and pleasure you this time.

“you made natty come,” julie grunts, making your breasts jiggle with how fast she fucks into you, it seems the head of her cock hits your womb with certainty and precision, making you let out half a scream and moan as your body twitches. “now make mommy come, why don’t you?”

your hips start to move up and away from her, making natty quickly pin them down to stop you. “don’t run away, little girl,” julie says breathlessly, staring down at you as her hand comes and grabs your throat, squeezing harshly. you gasp, vision blurring as you see stars swimming around and your orgasm hits. your hips are stuttering but julie doesn’t relent, pounding faster in you as natty’s free hand comes to rub at your clit in circles harshly.

the added stimulation makes you shriek, trying to run away from them again, “no, no— stop!” you shake your head, tears falling down your cheeks as you sniff from the overwhelming emotions. “i’m— i came! i came—“

“mommy didn’t,” natty grins, looking over her shoulder at julie as she bends down slightly in front of you, nipples almost reaching your mouth. julie’s eyes are closed as she continues slamming her cock into you, hitting that same spongy spot. it’s no surprise when you come again, leaving a thick white ring of come around her cock.

you’re sobbing now, body exhausted and you just give up on moving away from them even though it hurts, “mommy— buh buh—“ you sniff, “puh-puhlease stop! i’ll b-be good!” you hiccup.

“you s-said that last time,” julie grunts, thrusting in one last time as she come into you with three thick spurts. she slows down, fucking her come back into you before pulling her softening cock out, making you whimper at the loss.

she bends down, meeting your teary eyes and wiping your tears away, “be lucky natty convinced me to let you come. next time, i’ll make sure you both won’t.”

525 notes · View notes

borathae · 7 months

Text

↳ Full Art

"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."

Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs

The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips.

You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.

He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there.

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly.

He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.

You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.

What made him so goddamn needy?

One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.

What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage?

What did it to him?

“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.

Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.

Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.

“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.

He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.

“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.

“Help me.”

You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.

“Sorry?”

“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you.

“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.

He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.

You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes.

Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.

He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours.

“I was bad”, he breathes.

“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.

“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Punish me.”

“Punish you?”

“Please.”

You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters.

Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.

“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.

He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.”

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”

“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.

“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.

He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.

You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.

Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze.

“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.

He is tender there. Just as you said.

And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.

You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.

“Look at me.”

Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.

“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”

He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”

“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.

Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.

“No, no look at me.”

Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.

“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”

“I have to cum”, he moans.

“Cause you’re looking at me?”

He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”

“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.

“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”

“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”

“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.

“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.

“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist.

It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”

“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.”

“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits.

“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.”

“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.

“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.

“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”

Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process.

He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough.

“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you.

“One more, kitten. Give me one more.”

“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.

You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.

“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.

“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.

You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before.

“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time.

Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.

“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back.

He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing.

He is so pretty.

“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time.

“Yours”, he croaks.

“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”

“You’re making me cum.”

“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”

“Knee. Please.”

You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.

He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.

“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.

Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.

“No more.”

You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.

“Stop.”

You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.

“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.

“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.

“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.

You hug him back, tracing his spine.

“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.

He nods his head slowly, humming.

“Yeah? Was it good for you?”

“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”

“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”

He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”

You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“I actually wanna lie down though.”

You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.

“And ear rubs.”

“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”

“Good. Nice.”

“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.

He nods his head, “hm.”

“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.”

Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.

490 notes · View notes

nysrage · 8 months

Text

THE HOUSE PARTY, Onyankopon.

synopsis: after long nights of studying & days of grueling tests, you needed an outlet to relax. you didn’t expect to do it with your crush though.

content: ony’s an alpha, college au, house party, sororities & fraternities, alcohol, explicit language, sexual tension, college ‘crush’ that’s rlly yo man, a smidge of fluff, & smut.

nys note: would you believe this was all inspired from the twitter link below… lol it’s giving ‘options’ remix for ony.

Midterms had finally come to an end and everyone on campus could finally take a deep breath. whether they passed or failed, they were all looking for an outlet to get school work off their mind. Including you. The first year of college has been an adjustment, juggling school and finally being on your own. exploring different sides of yourself, making friends and losing bonds that you thought would last forever. it could all pile up at times. plus the overwhelming tears were growing old, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you seeked a party was because you wanted to see your lil ‘friend’ tonight too. midterms had the two of you so busy with little time to speak focused on nothing but your education. so you decided to join the scene with your girls.

The street of the apartment complex was full of people either just arriving, talking, smoking, or waiting to get behind that door of the house party. Thrumming of the speakers could be heard before even reaching the top of the stairs, the opening door pouring out clouded smoke soon as it opens. You and your group of friends navigate through the crowd. Each of your index fingers locked into eachothers belt loops so no one could get lost or pulled away without notice. The house dimmed and filled with ambient led lights. People of all different backgrounds crowded to each corner with either a cup, blunt, or some ass in their hands. Letting loose for the night and celebrating their time as a college student.

You and your group of 3 settled behind the enclosed circle of people dancing and catching ass. Finally happy with the view you had of everyone and the exits of the place, throwing back a couple shots and dancing to the music. Recording the whole moment on the camcorder your influencer bestie brought to vlog her stay. The content being provided to her back to back since the night began, and even more more since that whistle of the sorrors and frats began. The intro of ‘another nasty song’ oozing out of the speakers, groups of people surrounding the greeks as they lineup for their strolls.

The alphas happening to be right next to you and your friends, performing their stroll so perfectly. That black and old gold contrasting nicely against their skin. One alpha in particular catching your eyes. Onyankopon, your lil friend that you found yourself pinning over since you stepped onto campus. Nice chocolatey smooth skin, thick brows, full lips, and a small faded curly fro. Dimpled cheeks and pretty white teeth on display as he strolls, glancing over the surrounding people until they landed on you. Looking you over real good, biting down on his bottom lip between their signature words “Who You Wit?” Many of their seducing looks they give to their audience.

The dj transitioning into the throwbacks once the strolls were done. ‘party’ by beyoncé filling the room, as your favorite alpha towered over you. “okayy, friend! you lit huh?” you giggled, giving him a playful pat to the chest. “What’s goin’? Ain’t seen you in a minute.” acknowledging your nosy friends with a nod, busy whispering and betting on when y’all would cut the act. “Been out the way, y’all new jackets are nicee!” Toying with the zipper on his fraternities varsity jacket, looking himself over slightly with a smirk. “Preciatee it, preciatee it.. You look good too.” His monotone voice barely audible over the blasting music. Leaving you leaning in to hear his words best you could, “Huh? Couldn’t hear you.” just for ony to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you close, sexy voice speaking intently in your ear. “You look good as fuck right now.”

“Thank you.” whispering back shyly, all flustered and looking anywhere but his face. Refusing to fall into the trap of men, but the longer you two talked to each other the more you found yourself wanting him more. He was upperclass, only by a year but he was still very known around camp, and not bad looking in the least. Walking different girls to class, seducing woke with one look during his stroll, and always dressed to impress whether it’s chill or not. You wanted nothing to do with being another girl in his roster, but the two always seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Ony glanced behind him, scoping out the small space. “C’mere..” taking your hands in his and pulling you close to dance, swaying your body back and forth. Ony bending down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Missed you pretty girl.” His voice deep and smooth, traveling from your ear and straight to your core. “Looking and smelling all delicious tonight.” running his hands along your hips, admiring the slight fit your put on for the function. “Someone’s had a few, been partying good huh?” Dodging those little comments, trying your best to steer the convo but ony wasn’t having it. Not tonight. “This cool n’ all, I was really tryna be on sum chill tonight.”

“Really? after being tied down to class these past few weeks.” not convinced of anything but ony was persistent. “even after being tied down.”

Replying with a small hum, the tension between you was louder than the speakers in the room. Ony just staring at your pretty face without much to say, nerves leaving you rocking back and forth. “what..?”

“tryna follow me? need to talk to you.” Maybe it was the liquid courage but tonight you’d take your chances even if it was for one night only. So you let your friends know of your whereabouts, and followed him to his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Walking around the space, taking it all in. Very neat, cozy, and smelled of mahogany teakwood. His desk area full of intricately placed papers and photos of his personal achievement, family, and friends. The click of the door and his voice pulls your mind away from the frames. “Why you keep playing?”

“We’ll your bold all of a sudden..” You huffed, typing away nervously at your phone. Randomly in your bestfriend message thread just to avoid those pretty brown eyes you always got so lost in. “M’serious. Why you playing games?”

“This got to be the liquor talking.” You chuckled, pushing your hair from in your face. “I don’t play games ony..” Finally meeting his eyes, arms crossed as the two of you went back and forth. “Mmcht, ain’t no need for liquid courage. This oblivious shit ain’t getting me where I need to be, and that’s with you.”

“There’s nothing oblivious here ony..” Trying to convince not only him but yourself. You couldn’t grow weak in the knees the first time he pressed your relationship, not when he could be filling your ear with anything he wants. “So you can tell me face to face that you don’t want me too..?” Voice sweet and sincere. His eyes darting nervously around your face waiting for your answer. Not one cocky or proud bone in his body that led you to believe he was feeding you bullshit for just another notch in his belt. All of those walls falling just enough to let him in, finally admitting to yourself that the attraction was mutual. “I c-can’t, cause I want you too.”

Ony takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips from your nervousness. Thumb lifting your chin to put that pretty face on display for him. Running the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your face. “You know you my baby, lemme in that pretty mind of yours. So I can get to know all of you and make you mine.” and those words were sealed with the soft feeling of his lips on yours. A small peck that had you going back on every single word you meant to stand on. “You gone stay with me..?” Nodding your head with a soft smile. Ony pulling you in for yet another kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and intertwining it with yours. Swallowing the whimper you gave him when his strong hand collided with your ass. Kiss so hot and steamy that it lead you right into his bed, where you’ve wanted to be for as long as the two of you were friends.

“o-ohh my godd!” Moaning out loud as you wanted, every sound from his room drowned out by the thrumming speakers in the distance. House party still going strong whether he’d been occupied or not.

Lips red and swollen from how much you’ve been biting down hard on your lip while ony had you in doggy, taking his deep strokes. Moans falling constantly from your lips while your warm slick pooled around his pretty brown dick. Filling you up so full and caressing that sweet spot within, strong hips colliding with your ass as ony watches the recoil. “Mmm, damn that pussy feel so fucking good.” hand gripping at your fleshy hip, eyes focused on where the two of you were connected. listening to the beautiful sounds of his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit, and the gushing squelch of your pussy had him losing himself inside you. His moans and groans mixing with yours as he gave you every inch of that dick. “mh—ouu, shittt. mhmm.” voice shaking from that fast approaching nut he’d been holding out on. Wanting a few more out of you himself before he was finished with you.

“Yes onyy, you fuck me so good!” but after these few words from you, he found himself letting go. “Yea, you like this dick?” hips pistoning faster, pounding into you hard and steady leaving your eyes meeting the back of your skull. Wet two-toned pussy gripping him tight to suck him in deeper, as a strings of incoherent moans were exchanged between you too. “ima give you all the dick you want.” Angling his hips towards that spot that greeted him with a stream of squirt, drenching both your thighs and his pelvis. Dick barely staying inside from how wet you were for him. Pulling out and leaving hot streams of nut on your ass, panting and moaning as he came back to. That heavy feeling of something sitting atop of your ass never fading, “Your still hard..?” you questioned, looking back at him with your pretty fucked out face. Giving him that last push to have him standing at attention again.

“you thought i was done?” he chuckled, sinking back into you with a loud squelch.

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askinkiskarma · 1 year

Text

High Infidelity III (the end)

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: smut (fingering, oral - m and f receiving, spitting in mouth, anal play, p in v, creampie, praise kink), mentions of cheating, cursing, violence, blood, 18+ minors dni for the love of god !!!!

Word count: 6k words

Notes: honestly i need to be doused in holy water after writing that, but i'd probably just burst into flames anyway. i hope you enjoy reading the last instalment of High Infidelity, and I hope it's everything you've ever wanted and more, cause omg, did I enjoy writing it besties. thank you for all the love of this series, I really felt it. i love you all sm xoxoxo

previous part (x)

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Neteyam’s face snapped in the direction of your voice, an unreadable expression marring his beautiful features.

“What did you say?”

You were boldened and empowered by the ache running through you, by all the feelings that mingled into a cocktail that looked a lot like bravery, that looked a lot like you were going to finally give in to your biggest desires and wildest dreams.

You moved closer to him, taking slow, purposeful steps, until you circled around him and kneeled in front of him, in between his legs, placing on hand on each knee to help you, and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered as you noticed the goosebumps on his skin where you touched him.

You looked at him intently, wanting to show him that you meant it, that you were in this, that there was no doubt in your mind, no wavering in your resolve.

“Neteyam… I want you to fuck me. I’ve needed you, ached for you since the moment on the beach, since you apologised, since you were kind to me and showed me there’s more to life than men who take and take until there’s nothing left. That there’s more to love than what I’ve known all my life. That when it’s right, you’ll know it in your gut, you’ll know it in the way your whole body reacts like it’s been set on fire, or like it’s been set free.

I should have called it off the second I knew I started having feelings for another. I was afraid, afraid of the consequences, afraid of breaking people’s hearts, afraid of broken expectations and unfulfilled bonds, but I am not anymore. I’m not afraid anymore, the only thing I am afraid of is living without knowing this feeling, living without knowing I’ve done everything in my power to give in to you.

You told me one day I’ll beg you to fuck me. So here I am. I am begging you to fuck me. To take me. To show me all the things I know only you can. The things I only want you to.”

Neteyam’s expression turned wild and fervent, and you felt the growl he let out deep within you, deep in your core. His hand went to your jaw, that he brought closer to his face, so close, your eyes were struggling to focus on him, and the tint of green in his yellow eyes. You found yourself tracing each gleaming dot on his face, each stripe that marked his skin like a battle scar, his full lips that were parted, the deep breath that came out through them and into you, and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the weight of his presence, in the weight of the feelings he brought out of you.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. You have no idea what I’ll do to you. I told you you will beg me to fuck you, but baby girl, when I do it, I’ll do it until you’ll beg me to stop. Until I’ve made you come so many times, until you’re so drunk on my cock you can’t see straight anymore.”

“But not tonight. I don’t know what happened in the time you went away, but we are doing this the right way this time. I won’t risk losing you again. You can sleep it off, sleep the drink off and the night off, sleep Aonung off, and tomorrow, if you’re ready and you’ll still want me, I’ll be here for you, and I’ll be yours forever.”

You whined as he let your jaw go free and your mind twirled with images of his words come to life, burned in your imagination forever, gnawing at you to make them come true.

“But I want you now. And I know you want me to, I can see it in your eyes. I’m here, I’m begging you, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“That is what I wanted, just when you’re sober and not reeling from Aonung’s mistakes. Come, I’ll take you home.”

You woke up dazed and confused, needing a long while before realising you were back in your marui, back to the comfort of your sleeping mat and loosely wrapped in thin covers. You slowly rose, quickly regretting it, as the motion made you dizzy and nauseous and want to reconsider every moment that made it so this was your current life. Flashes of last night and all the hurt it brought with it started appearing in front of your eyes, furthering your sullen mood and unhappy state. So much happened, so much that you would give anything to forget.

As the world settled a little around you, you noticed a little trinket on your mat, next to where you lay your head. It was a bracelet, you noted in shock. A beautiful, intricate bracelet, crafted with a technique and materials characteristic of the Omatikaya.

Neteyam…

You immediately removed the bracelet that was already on your arm and swapped it for the one you were holding tightly in your palm, and tried to not think what a perfect allegory this was, how this was the beginning of your new life. The beginning of new love.

Your body loved the touch of the breeze as it caressed your skin, soft and tender, like a lover. It was necessary, like the air going in and out of your lungs, keeping you alive, allowing you to keep going. You tried your best to relax, tried your best to remove the anger and anguish for one man, need and ache for another, both of which felt like poison coursing through your veins, and tried to replace it with other, less intense emotions, like the relief of knowing, despite the hurt and the pain, that you could finally be free of Aonung, free for the first time in your life to make your own decisions, to live outside of the expectations and the burden placed on you since you were young, free to follow your heart, free to grow and be yourself, and to discover who that is to begin with.

You felt entranced by the beauty of the nature surrounding you, that you grew up with, that you’ve experienced every day of your life and yet somehow never took for granted, never fully got used to it, as you allowed your feet to feel the soft grainy sand beneath them and the water splashing over your ankles and calves as you walked on the beach that felt like your safe space, like your haven in the storm. You thought about Neteyam and his words, about the bracelet he left on your pillow and how it felt against your arm where it now resided and it will continue to for as long as you could help it, how even this gift was a perfect metaphor of your past and present. Aonung’s bracelet was beautiful and opulent, with rare stones and shells, with what he thought you wanted, but in reality, it was harsh and it scratched at your skin every time it was on your body, leaving friction burns and scratches that left you bruised and bloodied if you weren’t careful. When you lost it, you didn’t realise it, you just felt freer and weightless. Neteyam’s bracelet was understated and carefully crafted, with soft leather and round, polished pebbles, and it felt like velvet touching your skin, it felt safe and healing. It felt like the calming nature around you, like the warmth of the sun caressing your skin. It felt like new beginnings.

As your mind wandered over the events of the past few weeks, and those of the past few years, you came to the conclusion that this, this whole mess, is not about Neteyam or Aonung. Not anymore. It might have started that way, it might have been what set everything in motion, but it wasn’t the whole picture. This wasn’t about two men. It was about you and your life, your past and your future, and who you wanted to be moving forward. It was about realising that the shackles that bound you to one destiny were loose and rusted, and with a little force, you could be free of them, free at last to be more than who your chains led you to believe. The dark feelings that possessed you made you aware that there was more to you than what you thought, than what everybody thought. The ache and need you felt for Neteyam showed you you were a woman now, a woman who wanted to learn and explore her sexuality and learn what makes her body tremble, what makes it convulse in pleasure. Kissing him and letting him explore your body allowed you to see you were capable of wrongdoings, you weren’t just a two-dimensional being with only positive and light coming out of you, but you had a darkness in you, you had the capability to be selfish and put your own needs first, something you have never done before. The anger that enveloped you when you heard Aonung cheating on you, the thirst for revenge and vindication, the way you told Neteyam that you wanted him, showed you that you were strong, that despite your and everybody else’s view that you were frail and weak, and not a warrior, there was something in you - a power, strong and unflinching, an infinite untapped potential that you swore you would get to know in time.

You were so deep in your own thoughts, that the tug of your arm that spun you around almost knocked you to the ground, and you had to swallow the vomit that rose in your mouth at the harshness with which you were handled.

“We need to talk.”

As soon as the world stopped spinning around you, you were able to make out Aonung’s body and his face, sullen and tired, and you knew instantly he was battling a mean hangover, much worse than yours. You found yourself smirking at his state, hopeful that he was suffering and revelling in knowing he did.

“I’ve been looking for you for fucking ages.”

“Well, you found me. What do you want?”

Aonung’s eyes went wide at your words. He wasn’t used to you talking in such a way, determined, devoid of tears or quivering lips, of soft words and a trembling voice.

“What do you mean what do I want? You fucked off with another man last night, with the tree hugger of all people, and you’re asking me what I want? I want you to explain to me what he was doing there, and why you chose to leave.”

You were so shocked by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, so flabbergasted that the only thing you could think to do is laugh. A crazy, maniacal laugh that continued until there was no more breath in your lungs.

“You know? I knew you were a selfish, self-involved, self-centered jerk for so long, and yet I was continuously blinded by my own desire to see the best in people, the best in you. I held a flicker of hope that the kid I knew was still there, somewhere deep down inside of your shallow soul, but I see now I was blind. You want to talk? Fine, let’s talk. How long have you been fucking another girl, Aonung?”

You watched as Aonung’s mouth opened and then closed, and did so a few more times, while he was trying to come up with an excuse or an explanation, and you felt so free, so weightless, it was like you were floating. No more guilt, no more angst plaguing you, just a light, soft feeling, like a warm hug or sleeping on a cloud.

“Was yesterday the first night? Was it a drunken mistake? Did causing me pain, almost forcing yourself on me turn you on so much that you just needed to do it desperately, that you couldn’t help yourself?”

Your questions were once again met with nothing, no sounds, not even a twitch of the ear or of a facial muscle, no hint that your words were even registering in his mind.

“Come on, Aonung. You said you wanted to talk, let’s talk. Did an Akula get your tongue?”

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk, how about I talk? We’re over, Aonung. So, so over. You want to know why Neteyam came to get me yesterday? Because he’s a better man than you will ever be. Because even on your best day, you aren’t even a fraction of him on his worst day. Because in a few weeks, he has managed to make me feel things you never have, because in just a few weeks, he showed me there’s more to me than what you led me to believe, more to love than what I grew up thinking. And you know what else? I let him do things to me you could only dream of. I let him touch me in ways you never will, let him pleasure me in ways you couldn’t if you tried. And it was amazing. And I will do it again and again, while you will live your life knowing you blew the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Unsurprisingly, that seemed to wake him up from whatever trance he found himself in. The surprise clear on his face made way for panic, a quick brush of sadness that settled finally on anger, deep-seeded anger, manifested through flared nostrils and shallow breaths.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. Good luck, Aonung. I hope one day you grow the fuck up, but it won’t be for me to help you through it. Not anymore.”

“You’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you? You act all high and mighty with me, refusing me what’s mine, what was MY right, and you go give it up to some asshole you just met? I guess it’s true what they say, it’s the quiet girls. Always the quiet girls.”

You tried to not let it affect you, his words, his horrible words that somehow manage to pierce through you like knifes, and kept your gaze steady on his face contorting in anger.

“Leave, Aonung. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

You turned around to follow you own advice, but found yourself again being yanked back like a rag doll by his much larger hands wrapping around your arms and pulling.

“I’m not fucking done, you sl-“

The bone crunching noise that rang in your ear as Neteyam’s fist made contact with Aonung’s nose was weirdly satisfying, and you watched as the Metkayina man was knocked straight to the ground, blood pouring from his face and dripping down his chest. The impact was so powerful that his blood splattered over your face, painting you in red spilling drops. Whatever form of sympathy you felt for Aonung left your body the moment he called you a slut for doing something he was doing behind your back just a night ago, while not taking any accountability or exhibiting any ounce of remorse. You felt a sick satisfaction, watching him try to gather himself, hand on his nose, forehead scrunched up in pain and confusion. Neteyam put his body in between you and Aonung, taking a few steps in his direction.

“Leave. Now. If you ever, ever touch her again, if you ever look the wrong way at her again, the next thing I break is both your legs.” His voice was low and unflinching, calm and unperturbed by any emotion. He was scary. So scary, you felt that voice in every fibre of your being, and you assumed Aonung did, too. You watched as he got to his feet slowly, and a little wobbly, turned around and started walking away.

“I would tell your parents it was unfortunate, but it didn’t work out. That you felt like I wasn’t the right person for you and you felt bad stringing me along. That you fell in love with someone else. You choose, but I would hurry. Unless you want me to tell them what happened, but then you might not get to keep your family jewels, and I’m sure the girl you were fucking behind my back last night would be very disappointed about that. Good riddance, Aonung.”

You couldn’t stop staring at Neteyam, at this man who drove you to the point of madness, who made you want to do things that Eywa herself would cower in shame at, whose back was tensed with each deep breath he took as he watched Aonung leave like a wounded animal, like the coward he was. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins, making you light up with excitement and need, making you pant with the aftershocks of the fight, with animalistic desire at how powerful and forceful, how brave and imposing he was. As Aonung disappeared from sight, and from your mind forever, you watched as he turned to face you, a desperate wild look haunting him. He approached you and you were able to take note of the blood on his face, that adorned him like war paint, and on his knuckles as his hands found their way to your face and hair.

“Are you alright?”

You just nodded, too overcome with his presence and all it invoked in you to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. That you had to go through that.”

You shook your hand and placed a hand on his, smiling softly.

“It’s over. It’s finally over.”

You couldn’t wait any longer, would not wait any longer, and you swiftly closed the gap between you and kissed him. Kissed him the way you have dreamt since the moment you saw him on the beach, kissed him like your life depended on it, like your sanity hung in the shaky balance between his touch and your body, like he was everything. The taste of blood on his lips did nothing to deter you, emboldening you instead, and he moaned in your mouth before deepening the kiss, lifting you in his arms effortlessly until your legs wrapped around him. He only broke the kiss to replace your mouth with your collarbones and chest, and you threw your head back as his touch brought fluttering in your stomach and throbbing in your core, that was calling for him, begging him to fill you.

Neteyam knelt slowly with you still in his arms, handling you like you were no heavier than a child. His strength and physique never failed to amaze you, and right now, neither did the bulge that brushed against you as he guided you onto the ground. You propped yourself up onto your elbows and stared at it, at him, until he smirked and lifted your gaze onto his own by a touch of your cheek.

“Like what you see, princess?”

You gulped and nodded meekly. He took your hand in his and placed your palm on his hard erection, and you couldn’t help the way you started feeling him, tracing its curve and girth, or the soft moan that escaped you at its feel, at how tight the loincloth was stretched around it, at how big he felt, at how empty your brain was at the thought of it slamming into you over and over until you saw white.

He spoke lowly, teasingly, while reaching for your loincloth, that he loosened and removed without any effort.

“Feel that, baby girl? It’s all for you.”

He pushed you on your back by placing a hand on your chest and used a little force to spread your legs, and you were puny in his hands, malleable to his touch, willing to be whatever it was he wanted you to be. He swallowed as he took you in, admiring you while his fingers trailed over your folds, reaching down south until they circled another little puckered hole, eliciting a small gasp from you at the prospect of what was coming.

“All for you. All for this pretty pussy, and your tight little ass, for this fuckable mouth.”

“So, so fuckable, I don’t even know what to start with.” He pushed two fingers in you without any warning and you dropped to the ground and arched your back almost on command, so excited to finally get some release, any release, like you have needed for so long. Soon enough, it became too little, and you found yourself needing more, much much more.

The bucking of your hips was met with a mocking chuckle and words that made you whine in frustration.

“Not yet, baby. Not yet. You’re not ready for my cock yet. We need to get you ready, and you need to be a good girl and get me ready. Come on, on your knees, my love. Gonna fuck this pretty face, first… what do you think? Do you like that idea, pretty girl?”

You moaned at his words, but did what you were told, rising on your knees, noticing dripping going down your leg as you did so, and came face to face with his hips as he rose in all his perplexing, over 9 foot glory. Being so close, so close with the bulge you were just caressing earlier, knowing faintly what was hiding underneath, made you almost vicious, and you found yourself reaching for his loincloth, untying it hurriedly, your urgency making Neteyam scoff lightly, patting the top of your head in a gentle and surprisingly loving motion.

“So eager, my love. Eager to get stuffed with my cock, aren’t you?”

As the loincloth fell to the floor, so did the rest of whatever pathetic inhibitions you had left, taking in his length, that was even bigger than what it felt like under the loincloth, so big in fact, you were genuinely concerned at how it was ever going to fit in your mouth, fit in you. Your wide eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the Omatikayan, who lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze, and whatever expression he was met with made a low growl emerge from his lips, and you felt yourself clench around nothing.

You couldn’t wait any longer without his touch, without feeling him, so you tentatively grabbed his cock in your hand, struggling to make your fingers meet as you wrapped around his base, and you started stroking him up and down, all the while grinding on the ground, trying to get any relief from the enormous pressure building in your core. Primal curiosity took over you as you closed your lips around his tip, dying to feel the taste of the liquid spilling from it and you moaned around his cock as it was better than you could have ever foreseen. The sound and vibration made Neteyam push your head closer to his body, and you gagged slightly as his impressive length made its way down your throat.

“That’s it, baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock. You’re doing so well, princess.”

Without any warning, he started a slow pace in and out of your mouth, holding your head in place with his hands, and fuck, you loved how he was using you as his own personal sex doll. It was so obscene, so filthy, so so good. He felt so good in your mouth, his sweet taste flooding your every sense, welcoming him further in, until your nose was touching his hip bone and his balls were slapping against your chin with every thrust. You wrapped your hands around his thighs, propping yourself to get a better angle, to be able to suck him off the way you wanted, the way you knew he wanted.

“Look how you’re dry humping the ground with my cock so deep in your mouth. You want to be fucked, don’t you, baby? Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

His unrelenting pace made tears appear in the corner of your eyes, spilling down your cheek, mixing with the saliva pooled around your mouth, that dripped all over his balls.

“You’ve never looked prettier than when you’re getting your face fucked. So pretty, princess. Those fucking eyes looking up at me, all innocent, so wild, so - fuck, you will be the death of me.”

“Gonna let me come in this pretty mouth, huh? Want to suck me dry, baby girl?”

You mewled approvingly around his cock, hallowing your cheeks and pushing your tongue against him to drive him to his release sooner, wanting, needing to feel him, to own him, a piece of him, like he owned you, like he would - forever.

“Ohh, fuuck - fuck, princess, just like that. It’s like you were born to suck my cock. Doing so well for me, baby.”

Hot spurts of thick liquid came shooting down your throat and the deep guttural groans he released as the orgasm washed over him was almost enough to bring you to your own - you’ve never heard something more erotic, something more salacious, something better, in your life.

“Good girl.” He slowly removed himself from you and pushed you back into the ground, towering over you, his still fully hard length slapping over your inner thigh haphazardly. “Do you feel what you do to me? Feel how hard I still am for you? I’ll never get enough of this body, princess. You will be dripping in my cum by the time I’m done, this is what being next you does to me.”

His lips crashed against yours aggressively, and his tongue pushed past your teeth into your mouth, exploring you, tasting himself on your tongue. His cock twitched and brushed your dripping folds and you whimpered in his mouth. He smirked at the sound, and positioned himself alongside your core, started slowly grinding his length on you, teasing you, bringing new tears to your eyes and unintelligible sounds to his ears, that revelled in it, that thrived off of how much of a pitiful, writhing mess you were under him.

“Please, Neteyam. Please, fuck, f-“

“You’re still not ready for me, princess.”

“I-I’m ready, please, I’m so fucking ready!”

He tutted in disapproval and removed his body from yours, leaving you empty and aching. You tried closing your legs together, but that too was promptly interrupted by his hands, keeping them far apart. He started a torturous ritual of kissing and licking every part of your body he had access to, masterfully avoiding the only places you wanted, needed to be touched. He started with your collarbones, and down your sternum, alongside your abdomen, and hip bone, your thighs, and inner thighs, and you were crying, the pleasure so great, and yet so incomplete it was hurting you, it was turning into pain.

“Neteyam, I - “

“Hush, baby. Let me take care of you. Let me show you why it couldn’t have been anyone else but me.”

With that, he placed a tender, barely there kiss on your bare pussy, then another one, and another one. His mouth closed around your clit, sucking on it softly, alternating between it and kitten licks, and the rough texture of his tongue made you see stars, made you convulse around his mouth. His tongue moved languidly, drawing numbers on your swollen pussy, pushing into you and lapping at the liquid falling down his chin. You tasted like heaven to him, like a ripened summer fruit, like a flower in spring, blossoming around him, inundating his smell, coating his tongue in its aroma. He loved seeing you like this, all of this, falling apart at the seams in pleasure, tears prodding at your eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed, chest heaving up and down, hands in his hair, pushing his tongue deeper in your sopping cunt. He loved all of it.

Two slender, long fingers made their way inside of you, feeling you, curling them to massage the perfect spot, the spot he found last time, the spot he knew would make you come undone, and he couldn’t help the arrogance in his tone as he talked.

“Come for me, princess. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Your orgasm flushed over you, the most intense feeling you have ever felt, and you now understood why he edged you for so long, and even in your dazed mind, you were grateful that he seemed to know your body better than you knew it yourself.

He continued licking at your entrance, not wasting a drop of your cum, not when it was better than any liquor, better than any drink he’s ever been fortunate enough to taste. When he finished, he got back on top of you until you were face to face, and you noticed weakly the glistening on his chin as your juices coated it, and the smirk he had on those beautiful lips that was unrelenting. He knew he was amazing, he knew what he was doing to you.

“See, baby? I know what you need. I’m what you need. Open your mouth.” You did so, no questions asked, and watched as he spit in your mouth, licking your lips in order not to miss anything, humming to yourself as the taste of your own cum registered on your tongue.

“Feel how good you taste. So fucking good, princess.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough. I think it’s time you get what you deserve for being such a good girl. The best girl.”

You felt his arm on your abdomen as he reached down and aligned himself with your folds, his bulbous tip rubbing against your warm, aching entrance. Slowly, gently, he starts sinking into you, allowing you to feel each inch, allowing you to take in the delicious stretch, and the feeling of you wrapping around him brought shivers down his spine. The mewls escaping your lips fuelled his hunger for your body, fuelled his need to push you until you were so overstimulated, you were blacking out with him still deep inside your cunt.

“Eyes on me, baby girl. Look at how deep in you I am, I want you to watch me fuck you.” Neteyam’s cock twitched inside of you at your incredulous expression, at your wide eyes and fucked out face as your stomach deformed slightly, a bulge appearing every time he pushed deep into your cervix. It drives him to the point of insanity, that look, and he starts a maddening pace, quick and rough, rutting into you deeply, watching as your tits bounce with every thrust.

Your mind is blank of any thoughts and full of immeasurable pleasure, unholy sounds escaping your lips like a prayer, like a litany to keep going, to not stop, because fuck, this is the best feeling of your life, being so owned, so free, so helpless, so in control of your own desires, so full, full to the brim with pleasure, with love, with his cock. You start to see stars, as the now familiar feeling draws closer, and your entire body starts shaking in preparation for the wave you knew was about to hit you any second. His thrusts are unrelenting, hitting your cervix mercilessly as your walls tighten around him, wanting to keep him, to never let him go.

“That’s it, baby. You’re clenching my cock so tightly, want to come all over me, princess? Want to cover my dick with that sweet cum?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes!”

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as the orgasm drowns you in overwhelming, toe-curling sensations, and you start doubting you will ever see or hear properly ever again, as the world is enveloped in a white, over-exposed glow and your ears lose their ability to discern the waves and the birds flying above you.

“We’re not done, my love.” You barely registered his manoeuvring your now limp body, turning you upside down, so that your chest was flush against the ground as his hands lifted your ass up, his cock once more prodding at your entrance, and you whine, crying as you are barely able to understand what is going on, much less able to appreciate the way he’s spreading your ass cheeks, massaging them slowly, purposefully, while he sinks back into your wet, sensitive, throbbing cunt.

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore… ’s too much.”

“You can, baby. One more for me, come on. I promised you I’d fuck you til you can’t see straight anymore, and I don’t think we’re there yet.”

“You say you can’t, but look how good this pussy’s taking me, look how it moulds around my cock, how you’re squeezing me. You’re so good for me, princess. I can’t believe I get to do this, can’t believe you’re mine.”

A slap on your ass makes you yelp in pain, waking you up like from a daydream.

“I need to hear you say it, my love.”

“’m yours, Neteyam. Yours.”

“That’s right, you’re mine. And I’m yours. You own me.”

You can’t help the way you instinctively push back on Neteyam, can’t help the way, even in this fucked-out state, you’re still searching for more, you still need him deeper, need him to fuck you dumb, fuck you until you’re passed out on the sand. You match his animalistic thrusts the best you can, moaning loudly, wildly, as each of them takes the breath out of your lungs, as each of them fills you up to the brim, as each of them takes you closer to that third release.

“M-more. I need more.”

“You filthy girl. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little slut, drunk on my cock.”

You gasp as his thumb traces your asshole, then slowly removes it and brings his hand to your face, his other hand caressing your lower back.

“Open your mouth, pretty girl.” You did as you were told, and he pushed two fingers inside your mouth and down you throat, and you sucked on them, allowing your tongue to trace in between them, coating them with your saliva.

“Good girl.”

He moved his hand back to your ass again, and slowly pushes one finger in, ignoring the mewling sounds spilling past your lips. He started moving his finger in and out of you slowly, adding the other, all the while rutting into you like a rabid animal in heat, pushing you forward with each thrust, holding you tightly by your hips, leaving imprints on your sensitive skin that you knew would be bruised when this was all over. You loved it.

The feeling of his cock burrowing deep inside your core and his fingers moving in an out of your ass slowly was too much, and you were bracing for the snapping of the coil that has been tightening inside of you, knowing that when it snapped, so will you, and your last remaining consciousness.

“You gonna let me cum in this pussy? Want me to fill you up real nice, paint those pretty pink walls white?”

You tried to answer, but only ugly whimpers came out, and by the sound of his melodic laugh, you knew he took that as a yes.

“Come on, princess. Be a good girl and milk my cock dry.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, as the orgasm took everything out of you, and you would take everything out of him, as a result. He was right. When he was done, you were so drunk on his cock, you really couldn’t see anymore. And as he lowered his body on yours, resting his chest on your back and peppering small, gentle kisses on the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings and telling you how good you did, you knew you were excited not be able to see straight every day, for the rest of your life.

thank you again to everyone who likes, replies and reblogs and asked to be tagged, i love you all x

@jackiehollanderr @afro-hispwriter @sanranrin @universal-s1ut @neteyamforlife @arminsgfloll @avatar-on-top @neteyamsyawntu @farleyis @jjkclub @doulcha @adaiasafira @teyamsmate @ang-taylorsversion @junnniiieee07 @americanbeauty-americanpsycho @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @netemoon @shayligames-blog @hotmenwhoree @yan-ghost-yan @iikatsukii @rgbsona @moneyoverl0v3

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staranghae · 7 months

Text

[3:17 AM]

summary. yoon jeonghan is like art in a museum. look don't touch kinda deal. so, what happens when your idiot best friend dares you to kiss him during a drunken game of truth and dare? let's find out...

pairing. jock! y.jh x reader wc. 1k warnings. mentions of murder (lighthearted), profanity, bestie! mingyu genre. fluffy fluff, jeonghan is very aditya kashyap coded in this. a/n. requested by a lovely anon! this feels so cliche but I love cliches so here you go! hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

you were going to murder kim mingyu one of these days.

your head hadn't even hit the pillow after your designated midnight 'talk' with him that he had gone and woken up the rest of the dorm to play a game of truth or dare.

you had agreed, strictly telling him that you would be staying for only one round of the game. a girl needs her beauty sleep after all.

what started as one single round with barely 5 people from dorm was now going strong on round 5 with all 17 people in the dorm sitting on the floor in varying stages of drunkenness, save for a few who were still sober, including you and yoon jeonghan.

yoon jeonghan, the captain of the soccer team and also the guy you've been crushing on since high school. by pure coincidence, the two of you ended up in the same university and in the same major AND in the same friend group! it truly felt like the universe was on your side with this one.

your fantasies were interrupted by the shrill sound of someone mingyu squealing. you looked to find the cause of his sudden excitement only to find the bottle had landed on you. you looked back up at him only to find him staring at you, a sinister glint in his eyes. with an overly saccharine tone, he asks you,

"y/nie, truth or dare? you have to pick dare by the way, you picked truth twice in a row already so."

"then why'd you ask the question, dipshit?"

you heard a low chuckle come from your side. you look to find the source of the sound, only to see jeonghan looking at you. your staring contest is abruptly ended by the sound of mingyu aggressively clearing his throat..

"so, y/nie, your dare is..." he looks around the room, trying to find a dare for you to do. his wandering eyes finally land on him.

"your dare is... kiss the person sitting on your right! and a proper kiss, not just a peck." he says while the circle starts cheering at his dare.

to others, the cheering might seem unnecessary but there's some context behind this. context being, the guy sitting on you right is yoon jeonghan. despite his whole jock persona, jeonghan is a strict one-woman man. and kissing people for dares is not a thing he does. not even if he's single.

so, knowing him, you don't even bother to ask him before reaching for your drink. the group starts boo-ing at you as you lift the cup.

all at once, someone is snatching the cup from your hands while simultaneously pulling you back into their lap. you look behind you, only to find yoon jeonghan staring at you with a smirk gracing his lips.

you scramble to get off his lap, but he effortlessly manhandles you into facing him and for a moment, it's just you and him. he moves a lock of hair behind your ear and asks you quietly,

"do you hate me that much?"

you feel like a fucking teenager all over again, sputtering and stuttering out an answer,

"n-no, it's just that... you don't do st-stuff like this."

"stuff like what?"

"kissing people for dares kinda stuff."

he looks confused at your statement. and his hands, still on your waist, aren't exactly helping you give him an answer. you muster up every last ounce of confidence in your body and tell him,

"jeonghan, the entire university knows about your 'one-woman man' agenda. you've never kissed a girl for a dare, ever."

he blanks for a second before laughing. not a giggle or a chuckle, but a full out laugh. everyone else in the room is extremely confused at his sudden burst of laughter, the two of you had been conversing in hushed voices and whispers, and now he was laughing?

you look at him incredulously, a little offended at his sudden burst of laughter. he looks at you through teary eyes and immediately stops laughing. amidst the chaos, he asks you a question,

"y/n, did you, maybe, ever consider the possibility of you being my one-woman?"

you visibly malfunction at his question. you get off his lap and go outside the dorm to the patio to clear your head. you don't see jeonghan get up and run after you.

the two of you stand in silence until you decide to break the ice,

"since when?"

he looks at you before sighing heavily, "since freshman year, i think?"

"of university? so 4 years!"

he shakes his head.

"of high school. so... 8 years, actually," he says with a small smile.

you stare at him, wide eyed and completely thrown off your axis. he's liked you longer than you've liked him? actually, you only knew of his existence in sophomore year, so he's liked you since before you knew he existed?!

lost in your thoughts you don't see him come closer to you.

"y/n."

you look up at his call of your name only to find him standing right in front of him. like close enough that your lips could touch if you stood upright. he looks down at you with a soft gaze and informs you,

"we still didn't finish the dare."

you look up at him and then look to the door, when your classmates were peeking as though you wouldn't have seen then from a mile away

in an attempt to be petty and still do the dare, despite your current predicament, you grab jeonghan by the collar of his shirt and pull him down to meet him halfway.

jeonghan, despite his initial shock at your sudden move, immediately kisses you back, his hands finding solace on your waist.

the entire dorm erupts in hoots and cheers, successfully resulting in the faculty dorm waking up.

jeonghan just laughs and tugs you back into the dorm, straight onto his bed. the two of you end up in each other's arms, laughing and happy. as the two of you drift off to dreamland, you only have one thing on your mind.

maybe you owe mingyu a blind date with one of your friends for his efforts.

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orshii · 7 months

Text

Limitless (through the night)

Author: orshii

Pairing: biker! Choi San x female reader

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of death

Word count: 11,5 k

Summary: You have broken the rules, again. The punishment? You’re moving in with your father, sent back to your hometown which you had grown to be a stranger to. What happens when old affairs return in the form of Choi San? The only guy you wished to forever avoid, the guy who was a menace and always knew which buttons to push.

Will he put aside your differences and help you out when you get in trouble again?

A/N: Wow, I guess I'm here again...Ever since I saw these pictures of San, I'm obsessed with it, so a story kinda popped out of my mind lol. Like, I'll just never get over biker San pls, he drives me crazy, and I don't like it (lie). Anyways, thank you for my talented bestie @bvidzsoo for helping me a lot. I'm really a newbie to this whole writing and Tumblr world so, ly bestie hehet. Please, enjoy! I'mma be back soon, with a Hongjoong series too, lmao. Okay, byee, xoxo, orshii. (divider)

Moving to a new place could excite you due to all the new opportunities coming your way, alongside with new people, which may become your new friends.

In my case it wasn't like this. I was moving back to my hometown, which I have left almost ten years ago, leaving behind my father and all the people who I was once close with.

Now, I'm on my way back to my father, back to the house where we once were a happy family. My mother left my father, because it seemed like my father cheated on her. But the actual truth was that she just wanted to escape from this little town. She had no opportunities here, so she just blamed everything on him to have a reason to leave this shitty little town behind, alongside with me. I was only 10 years old, I did not understand back then what the hell was happening, so I just went with her. We moved to a bigger city, which was full with people. I never liked it, I hate crowds, I hate how the city is full with life.

After a while, my mother met someone and he was rich, so, we moved into a bigger house, which looked like a castle. I did not like it; I like simple things. I liked our old house, where the walls were cracked like a river spreading through the map. It was beautiful in its own way.

So why am I going back again to my hometown? I look to my left, where my mother is driving. She looked tired and mad; she was continuously frowning while she was driving. Maybe she was thinking about how she could bring a child like me into this world. Of course, I was the cause of going back to my hometown. It was my punishment.

I'm going to be honest, lying isn’t something I do often. Since I was little, I adored motorcycles. They are so beautifully shaped and their sound is simply music to my ears. I love watching them through the TV, the bikers riding their fancy motorcycles and competing against each other, going in circles like Formula 1 cars on the circuits.

My dad had owned an old Yamaha, it was beautiful. He noticed that I adored it, and so, he taught me everything about motorbikes; which part of the bike belongs where, he even taught me how to repair some broken parts. That was the moment I fell in love with motorbikes. I could not wait until I grew up and finally got my license. I had one purpose in life, and that was it.

And after a lot of patience, I finally got my license, but I had no motorbike. This became my next goal. To buy a bike. I succeeded doing that too, and I was proud of myself.

I looked back, where my beautiful matte black Yamaha R6 was tied safely onto the trailer. After I bought Toothless—I have named it that—I naturally joined a motorbike gang and slowly got into the world of racing. But these were illegal affairs, illegal races. You’d rarely get caught, so I didn’t worry about it. But one day I made a very bad mistake and I was left to face the cops. I was alone, the others—whom I considered my friends—left me there, letting me face the repercussions all on my own. As soon as my mother got me out of the police station and we got home, she started packing my things, saying 'You're moving in with your father.' My opinion did not matter, it was settled, and I just needed to obey. I did not care about anything at that point, so I just went with it without a word. Since that incident I did not want to make any friends, I did not trust people anymore, not even my mother. She betrayed me by sending me back to our hometown, treating me like I was a nobody to her. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, I am used of being passed around by others.

As soon as we drove through the streets of my hometown, little memories started resurfacing and I smiled. It was good to be back, to be honest, I have always loved this area. I never actually wanted to leave it behind, I just really had no choice but to do otherwise.

When we finally arrived to the house where we had once lived, a whirlwind of emotions hit me like a truck. My father stepped out from his car service, wiping his oily hands onto a used black cloth, which was once white. He looked tired and worried, mimicking the same expressions reflected on my mother’s face.

I stepped out from the car, looking around a little bit. Nothing has changed since I had last been here, and that was a long time ago. We never came back after the separation, my father used to visit us when he had the time, but it was rare, and our relationship went from having a happy father-daughter connection, to a shallow 'How's school? Good.' connection.

As I looked around, my parents were talking quietly just so I wouldn’t overhear them, but I knew they were talking about me. They were talking, and then suddenly my mother was moving, giving me a kiss on my cheek and saying 'Don't get into any trouble', leaving me there like I was an abandoned cat, handed back to the streets because it kept causing trouble. She chose the easier way, passing me into the hands of my father.

I pushed my bike into the garage and covered it with a blanket, I did not want Toothless to be dusty from all the dirt flying around the air. My dad showed me around the house acting as if I was there for the first time. I stepped inside my old room; everything was just how I had left it. The old drawing in which I had drawn our once happy family, and even my little pink shoes, which I had cried about leaving behind accidentally. Everything was the same, except me.

I got enrolled into the local University. I wanted to learn still as I had nothing to do; I needed to keep my mind busy. As I was headed to the new University on my bike, I felt anxiety crawling up through my body. I never liked new places, and besides, this was a little town, everyone knew everyone. And so, I was the new girl in town to them. The girl who came back after years of being gone. I don't really think anybody is actually aware of who am I. I had changed.

I arrived to the parking lot of the university, and cut the engine of Toothless. I sighed before I got off my bike, taking off my raven black helmet with red lines on it. My anxiety had finally crawled through my body, managing to reach my mind and thoughts, clouding them and keeping me locked in, not letting me go for even a second. My thoughts had always been my biggest enemy. Overthinking made me feel anxious about even the littlest things. It wasn’t good as this influenced my behavior, all the time. I tried to gather myself, not having noticed that somebody was watching me.

"Princess is back in town and has a little motorcycle, I see." I jumped at the sudden deep voice coming from behind me.

I turned around and saw a very familiar looking, handsome, guy in front of me, but I did not remember his name. He was smirking at me, his eyes sharp like a knife, glaring at me like he was a predator and I was his prey. He was wearing a black hoodie that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, with black shorts that reached his knees, pairing with red Jordans.

"And who are you?" I asked frowning; I really did not know him, he looked familiar, but I could not place a name to his face.

He just tilted his head, looking at me sharper than before, "You don't remember me? I'm Choi San."

He was frowning his thick eyebrows, a little cut in his left eyebrow making his glare more intense.

Choi San, the mayor's son. Now I knew who he was, and I did not fucking like him. He was always the annoying rich kid from school, always stuck-up, acting all-mighty due to his family being rich. And he didn’t like me either anymore. At the beginning we were friends, but then shit started happening at home—my parents arguing constantly, not even noticing me anymore—and so, I closed myself off, not wanting to befriend anyone. I was just a child, my parents constantly arguing was a big enough trauma for me to stop caring about other things. So, I pushed San away, who, I assume, took it to heart since he started hating me and acting like a total jackass, not letting me live. It was like that until I left my hometown, leaving everyone behind.

"Oh, well then, I don't care." I said while grabbing my helmet from my bike and turning around to leave. I did not have the energy for this arrogant prick, he didn’t change at all, I could tell by his one little sentence.

He laughed, "Princess is mad, huh? Is that a Yamaha R1?"

He had asked while pointing at my bike, not letting me leave quite yet.

I sighed and turned around looking at him annoyed, "No, it's an R6."

My answer was short and snappy.

"That's from one of the newest series. I bet you begged on your knees your rich stepfather to buy it for you." He laughed sarcastically, and it sounded like an engine that needed an oil change. I sneered at the thought.

It hurt, it hurt because he didn’t know how many days I didn’t sleep because I had shift after shift, working my ass off. My stepfather and mother didn’t want to buy me a bike, actually they hated just the idea of it, but I didn’t care, so I took as many jobs as I could, and after three years of hard work, I finally get to buy this beauty. It had nothing to do with my stepfather. San was just being his old self, being an asshole, judging even though he did not know anything at all.

"Just fuck off, San." I snapped before walking towards the building. I was starting to get annoyed, but I didn’t let it show because I knew that was what he wanted out of this exchange. To piss me off, get on my nerves.

I finally stepped inside the building. I was a bit lost; I didn't know where I was supposed to go now.

"Let's race someday or are you scared, baby?" But San suddenly stopped next to me, looking at me arrogantly, not leaving me alone.

I laughed at the nickname, it was cringe, what the hell was he thinking? "I don't do shit like that."

I didn’t even spare him a glance.

"Then why do you have a motorbike?" San asked, looking at me like the police officer had when he was interrogating me.

"I obviously use it to go to church." I rolled my eyes as I started walking down the corridor. I got a lot of curious looks from the other students littered around in the hallways.

"I bet you raced in that big town of yours." San said, of course, following me.

I suddenly stopped in my tracks, and looked at him with deadly eyes, "Can't you just go and fucking annoy somebody else?"

"Princess is being mean for what? I just wanted to welcome you back in town." He said with a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, how humble" I said ironically, "Thank you for your kindness."

I smiled at him and saluted him before turning around. I did not have the energy for this egoistic guy.

I somehow found the director's office. He handed over my schedule and wished me good luck, and I was abandoned again in the empty corridor.

I was looking at my schedule, trying to figure out which classroom I needed to get in.

"Hey, new girl, are you lost?" I heard a voice calling out to—me— I had assumed.

I looked up and I found myself standing in front of a tall, black-haired boy, with the kindest smile I had ever seen in my entire life. He was wearing bright colors, which highlighted his bright smiley face, he looked like a walking sunshine.

"Hi, yes, a little bit." I said while looking at my schedule confused.

"Let me see." He took the paper from my hands and looked at it humming, "Oh, you are in the same major as me. I'm headed to that class; I can show you the way."

He offered me up with a sweet smile.

"Oh my god, thank you, you saved me." I huffed the air out from my lungs.

"This way." He pointed out the direction with his finger, and we started to walk towards the classroom.

"By the way, I'm Yunho." He said, reaching his hand out towards me.

I smiled while shaking his hand, "Y/N, nice to meet you. How did you know I am the new girl?"

I had asked him curiously.

"Everyone knows, it's a little town, the rumors here spread like the plague." He shivered with a smile.

I chuckled, "Oh, I see. Too bad, I just wanted to remain unknown."

"Your dad is quite famous in town, did you know? So, I assume he told someone you are coming, and puff, the rumors are everywhere." He gave me a side glance as he smiled.

"Yeah, maybe." I said, thinking about the fact that my father has a car service, which, I assume, is the only one in town. Therefore, people meet up with him constantly, thinking more of it, it isn’t a surprise that people know who I am, in the end it, it is a little town. We arrived to the classroom, and headed in.

The day went by quickly. I was glad I met Yunho, he was a funny guy, and he led me around the University, making funny comments about some students. I really needed him in order to integrate into this new community, which I was once part of ten years ago. It was as if I had to relive the past, as if I was walking down the same path, I had done so ten years ago, a path which might have changed during my absence. It felt like I had to start everything from the very beginning.

The days passed by quickly, and I just tried to avoid being in the spotlight as I found out everyone knew me, but I knew nobody, because who would remember the people they had met while being just a little kid? As I was randomly walking on the street, headed to get some groceries, random people would say hello and even ask how my mom was. I just quickly answered them, but I didn’t know who they were. I didn’t like the attention, when all the eyes were on me, so I tried to lay low, live my life quietly.

Then one day, as I had gotten closer to Yunho, he somehow convinced me to attend a party held by some guy named Song Mingi. I wore casual clothes, meaning simple black ripped jeans paired with a black crop-top, and a leather jacket. I am a biker, so the leather jacket is a must, even when you have to leave your bike behind, as I had done now. I felt like drinking something. I hadn’t gotten drunken in a while, not that this was my purpose for the night.

Yunho came to pick me up with his navy-blue Nissan GT-R. The car was beautiful inside out. And that is when I found out that Yunho used to do street racing, held by some local racing company. That's another reason as to why we became friends so quickly, as we were interested in the same things.

When we arrived to the house where the party was held at, it was already crowded. Luckily, there was the opportunity to stay outside, next to the pool, and so, I told Yunho I didn't really want to go into the crowd. He stayed with me, and to our luck, we found some alcohol outside too. There was a table next to the pool, and there were a whole bunch of alcoholic drinks on it, so, we took some tequila shots. As we were talking about some of Yunho's street races, I heard someone approaching us.

"Where did you leave your expensive bike, princess?" He clapped his hands together, reaching for a can of beer, opening it quickly with his thumb. He was wearing dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and on top a leather jacket. At least he knew the unsaid rule of the bikers. Leather jacket is a must, like I have said.

I looked at him with a glare, "I left it at church since I got drunk on the communion wine."

I said annoyed as it was my last wish to meet him tonight, “Just leave me alone, San.”

"Where's the fun in that?" He leaned close to my face, bending down to be at the same height as me, whispering it in my face.

"The fun must be where you brain is, which you seem to be lacking in." I pointed at his head.

He laughed loudly, "You'll see where is the fun when I beat you at the race."

He glared at me with his typical sharp gaze. It whispered danger. And I liked danger.

“I said I don’t race; do you have issues with your long-term memory now?” Despite meaning to be teasing and unabashed, my voice came out a little angry as I frowned.

“I saw the news about your little incident. You can’t be fooling everyone and telling them you nearly got arrested, princess.” He spread his arms, as he raised his voice, so everyone could hear it who was outside. I felt everyone’s eyes on us, coming closer, way too interested in hearing what the whole fiasco was about.

My blood had started boiling and I clenched my fists together, until my knuckles turned white. I was blinded by my sudden anger towards San, I just wanted to wipe that annoying, arrogant, smile off of his face. I stepped closer to him, my face inches away from his, as his back was facing the pool. He just needed a little encouragement for a swim, and so, I strongly pushed him towards the pool, and before he could fall in, I quickly whisked the beer out of his hand, and lifted it into the air.

“Have a good swimming, Choi San.” I placed the beer down on the table. That was my que to leave him there. I could feel his glare pointed at my back from the pool as he swum to the surface. I could feel his annoyance, that he felt embarrassed. I smirked to myself, Choi San, you have no idea whom you’re trying to annoy. Yunho came after me quickly and gave me a high-five for the move I had just pulled off.

The next hours at the party were spent by drinking and dancing, as I went into the dancing crowd. I just wanted to disappear in the crowd and feel good. I tried to avoid San the whole night as I didn’t want to see his furious side, San, who got humiliated by me. It was funny, I had to smile the whole time as I remembered his face when I pushed him into the pool, amused by the whole ordeal. I also got to know the guy who threw the party as Yunho introduced us to each other. Mingi was a tiny bit shorter than Yunho, but you could barely notice. He had a buzz cut and rocked his blonde hair; his sharp nose completed his small eyes well. He wore a black T-shirt with some silver necklaces around his neck, and black ripped jeans. His nails were painted black with some rings on his fingers. I am not going to lie; he was hot as hell. And I also found out that he races alongside with Yunho. He owns a Toyota Supra, and that nearly made me faint when he told me about it, because it’s a rare car. He then proceeded to show it to me. It was so beautiful and unique due to its painting. It was kind of a papaya orange with some words on it painted on it, 'Fix on' and 'Youth'. I really liked it.

I had asked the boys about what kind of race San spoke about, and they said it’s an illegal motorbike race, which happen to be very rare here. I quickly tried to forget about it. I didn't want to cause trouble again; I had promised my mom and also myself to stay low, to be better. San was just provoking me; I wouldn’t fall into his trap.

The next day at university as I was walking down the corridor, headed to the cafeteria, something immediately caught my eyes. It was a poster with a motorbike on it, of course it caught my eyes. I went closer to read it. It said that a motorbike competition was to be held, and the prize were some new parts to upgrade your motorcycle. This was the competition San was talking about, and it's going to be held tonight on the deserted streets of the city. I'm not going to lie; it piqued my interest. I miss speeding down the roads, the adrenaline coursing through my veins every time I race. And my bike is in urgent need of an upgrade, because these past days it felt like something was wrong with it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was exactly. For now, I'm going to let it go, but I still took the poster with me…just in case.

Evening came and I was in my room, I barely talked to my father all day, nothing unusual. Sometimes when I'm alone, and that happens a lot recently, I just start thinking about useless things that make me feel weak. I have never opened up to anyone before, I was never that kind of person, and besides, I always thought it's useless to open up to someone, because in the end they never truly care about me. And the fact that I was betrayed by my own "friends", it just confirms that I really should just stick to myself. I'm not going to say that it didn’t hurt when I saw my friends running away from the police, pushing me straight in front of them, telling me, "You are the new girl, handle it." Funny, I'm the new girl everywhere, I'm not going to belong anywhere, I am always going to be the new girl. They thought it was a nice joke, it wasn't; it ruined me. I started to think that the problem was me, that I deserved this, that I am not enough. As some time went by, I realized it wasn't my fault, but these thoughts still remained deep in my heart. And I will carry it with myself for a long time.

Here I am again, thinking about these things. These are those moments, when I need to clear my head. My solution for it is going out into the chilly air with my bike, cutting through the wind with the highest speed my bike can handle. The feeling of it being night, and I'm alone with Toothless, speeding through unknown streets, I feel like it's just me and my bike in this whole world. It’s like therapy for me. It just…understands me, just like the feeling you get while listening to music; sometimes you listen to a sad song, it makes you sad, it just describes your feelings, but if you are happy and you listen to that exact same song, it'll bring happy tears out of you.

I was going around the city aimlessly, when suddenly I saw a bunch of bikers headed somewhere. That's when I realized they were going to the competition. My heart started to beat quickly. I started inhaling and exhaling slowly, just the thought of racing made my blood boil, my skin itch, awakening my body like nothing else.

And as I kept following after them, suddenly I realized I arrived to the location of the competition. It was really my subconscious taking over, driving me here. I slowed down a little. There were a lot of people around crowding the bikers, watching their unique motorcycles. Some background music accompanied the sound of the engines as it melted together, creating an intriguing melody. The atmosphere here were totally different compared to the one in the big city. Back there it was just serious faces, who hated each other. But here, I only saw smiles and laughs even between the racers as it seemed like everyone looked at each other friendly, not viewing the other as the enemy.

I stopped my bike, turning the engine off after having parked it. I noticed some curious eyes on me. I didn't know what to do now, I was totally alone. I didn’t know anyone, but I needed to fight my anxiety as I took my helmet off. My helmet always gave me safety, kept me unknown, and that's what I always wanted.

When I stepped next to my bike, someone immediately caught me into a hug. It was Yunho. He lifted me up in the air and smiled.

"Oh my God, you are here, Y/N!" He said excitedly, putting me down.

I laughed, "Yes, I am. I don't know how exactly, I was out for a ride, and then I found myself here."

I said placing my helmet down on my bike.

"I am so happy you are here." Yunho said, his smile never disappearing.

"Yeah, I can see that." I chuckled looking at his bright face.

"Will you sign up for the competition?" He asked me with curious eyes.

I sighed, "I'm here so—I guess?"

I lifted my hands into the air, shrugging.

"Yes!" Yunho fist bumped the air happily, making me chuckle.

He then led me to a person at which I needed to sign up for the competition. I didn't know who I was going to compete against, just until Choi San came to sign up as well. I had already finished signing up as I stood aside with Yunho, while he leaned towards me and quietly started to introduce each racer.

"Did you know that we are going to race against each other, princess?" San said, throwing a quick glance my way with his sharp eyes, signing the paper in front of him. I checked him out very quickly, hoping nobody would notice. He was wearing his typical leather jacket but with a black T-shirt underneath, and ripped jeans this time. His black hair fell into his eyes as he finished filling out the paper. Every woman very noticeably thirsted after him, and I wasn't an exception…he’s fucking hot. What a shame he has a shitty personality.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, tuning to face Yunho, who was talking to some guy I didn't know. Did San really not understand that I didn’t want to talk to him?

"I want to race against her." I heard San's voice coming from behind me. I turned around to look at him annoyed.

"You can’t get rid of me so fast." He winked at me, that fucker.

"I will, on the track." I smiled at him sweetly, turning around again as I went back to my bike with Yunho, adrenaline slowly starting to course through my body. I had to win this, I had to wipe that confident smile off of San's face.

The race started, it was a drag racing, meaning three bikers were lined on the starting point, it was a shorter straight section, then as the lights turned green from red, you just needed to shift the gears up as perfectly as you could. The first who reaches the finish line wins. Speed mattered only here, and how detailed you are about the gearing.

A few bikers were already done with the race, and I watched them curiously. Slowly, it was our turn to race. People were loud and they cheered whenever their favorites won.

I rolled over to the starting point. One guy was already there and I found out that I'm going to race against San and a guy named Hongjoong, whose nickname was the Devil. I didn't know him, but Yunho said he is one of the most well-known bikers in the town. He had a Honda CBR. His bike was sick, it was bright red and the owner sitting on it with his red helmet really looked like the Devil himself, I get why they call him that.

As I rolled next to him, I glanced towards my right as he was there. He looked at me and bowed his head, I did the same. It was a sign of respect. I liked the guy already.

San arrived to my left side with his Suzuki GSX, painted also with a very dark red, reminding me of blood, mixed with some black. These guys weren't playing, their bikes were absolute monsters. I could almost hide with Toothless, but my bike was almost on the same level as theirs, so I saw hope in winning this.

When the announcer spoke, saying our names and a few things about our motorbikes, I slowly started to focus on the task at hand. I did not hear anything else, just my fast-beating heart. I fixed my eyes ahead, breathing in and out. The engine sounds pushed away the crowd’s noise. The red light suddenly switched green, and I quickly lifted my left foot off the ground, concentrating on the perfect timing of the gearing, bending over a little to adjust with the speed. From the outside it looks like three bikes quickly reach the finish line, but when you are the driver, it feels like the longest minutes of your life.

At the beginning the three of us were head-to-head, then I was the one who was leading. I could feel the victory coursing through my bloodstream already. But suddenly, I heard a puffing noise from my engine, and it stopped without any warning. My bike started to slow, the thoughts of winning long forgotten.

'Shit, shit, no, no, no, no, no!' I mumbled to myself. I could barely stop; my bike was still resonating.

The two other racers quickly passed by me, leaving me with my broken bike. I glanced forward and saw San reaching the finish line first. I was so fucking close. I hit my bike angrily, and got off it to push it over to the side. This is the worst feeling ever, when you are so close that you can already feel the win, but then something out of your control happens and it’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it, you’re only left with cursing the world, asking, 'Why me?'

I could feel something was faulty with my bike, but I didn't think it was this bad. I heard someone running my way. It was Yunho, and when he reached me, he leaned his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"Fuck, what happened?" He asked straightening up, still breathing quickly from running.

"I don't know, the engine just stopped working." I kicked my bike. I loved Toothless, but when it did things like this, I felt like I was going to throw it out.

Yunho came closer to my bike, to try and see what the problem was. He crouched down to take a closer look as I stood next to him, using the flash of my phone to help him see better. I heard an engine slowing down next to us. Of course it was San, he took his black helmet off, smiling at me deviously.

"Daddy's money wasn't enough for a normal motor? It’s called karma, princess.” He said with a death glare, smirking annoyingly. “This is because you fucking pushed me into the pool."

Why the hell did he enjoy spitting out words that made no sense at all?

I could feel my blood boiling, my biggest desire at the moment being the want to punch that confident smile off his annoying face. I was so close doing it, I swear to God, I was ready to punch him hard, but that little sanity I was clinging on to did not let it happen. I always had problems controlling my anger. But slowly, I learned to handle it. I learned how to manage these feelings, so I just let it bounce off of me.

"Next time I’m going to push you into the sea, if you don’t stop being an asshole. Go, celebrate your fucking win, you really deserve it." I said, staring at him with deadly eyes.

"Your wish is my command, Princess." He saluted with a smirk, and then placed his helmet back on, driving away with his annoyingly loud engine. I scoffed as I watched him roll away.

"I think I'm going to call my dad, there's no hope in fixing it." I sighed. I'm going to get into so much trouble now. I was forbidden from racing, my dad won't be happy, I'm sure. But it is what it is. At least the cops didn't show up this time.

I called my dad and told him what happened. I was nervous of how he would react. To my surprise, his first question was about my well-being. He said he was coming.

While I was waiting alone for my dad—I told Yunho that he could since my dad was coming— Hongjoong stopped by my side, taking his helmet off. His blonde hair fell into his face as he ruffled his hair. He was damn handsome, he looked so soft, the opposite of his nickname.

"Everything alright?" He asked, his eyes full of understanding.

"Not really, my engine is broken, so yeah…" I said with a sad smile.

"Can I help you with anything?" He looked at me as if he really understood what I was feeling right now.

"No, thank you, I'm waiting for my dad to pick us up." I pointed at my bike.

"Okay, such a shame this happened. It was a good race." He smiled at me and then reached his fist towards me.

"Yeah, it could’ve be a good one." I fist bumped him, smiling.

"Next time perhaps then." He winked at me sweetly, "If you need any help, I'mma be around." He put his helmet back on.

"Okay, thank you." I smiled at him sincerely.

He rolled away quickly, leaving me there with my thoughts. Now, that's what I'm talking about. Why aren't there more people like him on Earth? He looks like an angel, not like the devil I suppose he is—on track. I was intrigued, I wanted to get to know him better. San could really learn a thing or two from him.

My dad arrived after a few minutes and we quietly placed my bike up on the trailer. As we were headed home, silence settled around us. I could feel he was pissed.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking straight ahead at the road, not wanting to see his disappointed expression.

"What did you think?" He started, "That you would race and I wouldn’t ever find out about it? It's a little town, Y/N, you already know how fast rumors spread here."

He glanced at me for a second.

"I know, I didn’t think, I just miss racing." Tears appeared in my eyes. "Please don't tell mom. She will send me to Azkaban after this."

Call it a defense mechanism, a trauma response, but I had always been like this…joking in serious situations.

I glanced at him and saw a very small smile appear on his lips, "I won't tell her, but it was very bold of you to race again. You can't do that, you know it, it'll have consequences."

He lectured me.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you for not telling mom." I said, relief spreading through my body.

"But you're still punished. You have to help me in the car service after school." He said glancing at me with a serious look.

"Okay, and maybe we could fix my bike too?" I said, glancing at him with a smile.

My father smiled back, "Maybe after we fixed some cars, we could check it out next week."

I clapped happily, "Thank you!"

The rest of the ride until we got home was quiet, I was happy my father was this understanding. I thought as soon as he finds it out, he'll send me back to mom, passing me between each other like I was a tennis ball. But to my surprise, it was the opposite, and I really didn't mind working in the car service. At least we could spend some more time together. I hoped we could fix our relationship, alongside with the cars, of course.

My days went by and they all were quite the same. I attended my classes at university, then my whole afternoon went by fixing cars with my father. He managed to teach me a lot of things about cars, even though my world was all about motorbikes I was always interested in cars too. I was planning on buying a car, but I needed to put that aspiration aside for a while. My priority was fixing my bike so I could finally ride it.

We checked out my bike and we found out that my engine was overheated, and that's why it shut down. An engine upgrade was needed, and we changed the turbo as well while we were at it. It was going to be even more powerful than before; I was so excited to finally try it out. On some days, Yunho and Mingi would come by the car service to check on me, and they even started helping me out in fixing my bike. We started getting closer, we laughed a lot in between the late-night repairing.

Yunho and Mingi invited me to watch their races, which were going to be held today. I had never been to races like this one before, so I happily accepted the invitation. I could finally try my bike out as I was headed to the race. It felt so good riding it again after a while. I felt like I could breathe again. I think I had gotten addicted to this feeling.

The race was held at the race track of the town, in the afternoon. The sun was slowly going down as I rode my bike, painting my black bike and helmet with the shade of dark orange.

When I arrived to the track, there were lots of people being excited about the race. It was a drag race again, but with cars this time. I looked around and I saw different types of cars, each looking very sick and unique. I started to feel excited as I was rolling down between the cars, searching for Yunho's parked car.

Then, I suddenly recognized someone with a blonde hair. He noticed me and started walking towards me with a smile. I stopped and took off my helmet.

"Fixed your bike, huh?" Hongjoong approached me with a genuine smile.

"Yeah, finally." I pet my bike with a smile.

"I'm glad, we shall try it out some day." He said with his white teeth flashing.

"We shall." I smiled back at him. I would wholeheartedly race with him again.

"Are you racing?" I asked with a frown.

"No, I came to watch, I won't betray my beast." He laughed sweetly. I swear to God, his laugh was like music to my ears, "You came to watch too?"

"Yeah, I've never been to races like this one before." I said, feeling excited.

"We can watch it together; I know the best place where we can watch it from." Hongjoong offered with a sweet smile.

"Okay." I accepted his offer quite easily, "But first, I want to wish Yunho and Mingi good luck."

"Come, you can put your bike down there, I’ll show you where they are." He pointed towards my right, where I could park my bike.

I pushed my bike to the designated area, and brought my helmet with myself. I did not want to leave my treasure there. Hongjoong lead the way to where Yunho's blue GT-R was parked, next to Mingi's orange Supra. These two cars next to each other looked so good. I was very tempted to take a picture of them.

I approached Yunho and hugged him from behind, surprising him. He laughed, "You came, finally."

"I would never miss it." I smiled looking up at him. He was wearing his racing suit with colors that matched his car. His hair was lazily brushed over his forehead, almost reaching his eyes.

I hugged Mingi too, the top part of his orange racing suit lazily hung around his waist, a white T-shirt underneath. This orange clothing suit him very well, highlighting his blonde buzz cut. They looked handsome. What is it today, everyone is looking so good?!

"I'm going to be in the crowd, watching you guys, good luck. Fighting!" I smiled and hugged them both again. Hongjoong also wished them good luck, resorting to giving them high-fives.

"Thanks, we'll try." Yunho said laughing.

We then walked to the spot Hongjoong mentioned before. It was really a good one, we could see everything from here. The crowd started to cheer as the first cars appeared on the track. It was a 2v2. Yunho was the first one, competing against a Mitsubishi Lancer. It was going to be hard to beat that car, but Yunho did not disappoint, and he won with a lot of advantage. Every minute counted here; they were measuring the time up until you crossed the finish line. Time mattered here as it could beat your opponent.

After a lot of quick races, the sun went down, street lamps were lighting the track up, the crowd cheering loudly. We laughed a lot with Hongjoong, and he explained the rules of the races we were witnessing. I finally felt happy after a long time, I loved the atmosphere here.

That is until someone sat next to me.

"Now you’re into cars too? Tell your stepdad to send you a car, a broken one perhaps." San said, looking at me with those fucking annoying sharp eyes of his.

Every time he appears, my mood is fucked, "I will, now leave me the fuck alone."

I had said not looking at him.

San laughed, "Not until we're racing with equal chances."

"Oh, so now you admit it wasn't a fair win for you?" I looked at him with a glare.

"No, I would've won anyways. I just wanted to see how much you could push. But your bike said, nah. I bet it'll fall apart again." He said, leaning closer to me.

My blood started boiling, it was one thing if I was the one saying shit about Toothless, but him spitting out these words about my bike were not allowed. Ever. San was provoking me, and I knew it, I fucking knew it, yet…

"Come, I'll fucking beat you this time." I looked at him with blazing eyes, starring at him sharply.

He stood up smiling, "It'll be my pleasure, princess."

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed.

Oh, how I would hit him in the face, I had nightmares about that fucking confident smile.

I stood up, Hongjoong grabbed my hands to make me look at him, "It's not the best time going out there, Y/N."

He said with concern in his voice.

"I don't care, I want to wipe that confident smile off his face." I was long gone, there was no chance of anyone convincing me doing otherwise.

Hongjoong stood up, looking at me with concern, "But please be careful, call me if anything happens."

He held my hands, he really looked concerned.

"Don't worry, savior. I'll keep her safe." San glared at Hongjoong with the deadliest stare I've ever seen.

Hongjoong stepped closer to San, letting go of my hands. "If anything happens to her because you’re a fucking idiot and your ass is just itchy, you'll regret it, I promise."

Hongjoong stared back at San, and in this moment, he really looked like the Devil. I stood between them as they were eyeing each other, glaring with their noses flared.

Whoa, whoa, hold on a second, what was happening right now—

"Okay, guys, stop! Let's not waste any more time and get this shit over." I looked at San, losing my patience.

He winked at me and then smiled, his dimples appearing. Did I just notice he has dimples?

He did not wear his usual black leather jacket tonight; it was a leather jacket with some red on its sleeves and on the waist with white lines. On the front there was a writing 'SUZUKI', referring to his motorbike being the same brand. I’m not going to lie; he looked hot as fuck.

We walked over to our bikes, which were parked next to each other. I sat on my bike.

"So where are we going? You know this town." I looked over to my left side to meet San's gaze.

"There's a freeway not far from here. There’ll be traffic, but it’s more exciting that way." He smirked.

I started my engine and reached my hand out, motioning to him to show me the way. We both placed our helmets on, and then it was game on from there on. There was no turning back anymore.

I followed San, turning on unknown streets, it was barely a five-minute ride. We stopped where the freeway began.

"The winner is who gets to the end of the freeway first. It's not that long." He told me through his helmet, being on my left side.

I just nodded, it was late into the evening, but the cars ahead of us were countless. It was a three-lane road, people might’ve been going home from work, because there were a lot of cars. We lined up at the side of the road, in front of the red light. San pointed at that, signaling that if it turns green, we start. I started to reeve the engine, my legs in starting position with my eyes focused on the road ahead of me, counting the cars, and analyzing how could I pass by them. Adrenaline crawled through me; my skin covered in goosebumps. I have never felt like this before, I was so hyped about winning this. I had to win this.

The red light suddenly changed to green, and I quickly lifted my foot off the ground, bending over my bike and shifting up. We slid through the cars like the river runs through the rocks. We were two quick arrows passing by the cars, wheezing from left to right. At first, we were head-to-head, but I got lucky and I could pass by a big truck very quickly. San wasn't that lucky, he stayed behind a little. We arrived to a tunnel; sudden strong light hit my eyes. Traffic was lesser here, so, San quickly caught up with me. The sound of our engines were so loud that its echo bounced of the tunnel’s walls. It was like music, the two-engine sound melting into each other. I'm not going to lie, I was enjoying it so much as I have never felt like this before, it was the definition of freedom. I quickly glanced at San and he lifted his arms, giving me a thumps up, then quickly passed by me. But I did not let that happen, I went after him. We arrived to the end of the tunnel, sudden darkness hitting me now, my eyes needed a few minutes to adopt to the dark again. As cars were in front of us, I quickly took the chance to go in between two cars, and I was leading again. Until I suddenly saw red and blue lights flashing from behind.

Shit, shit, no, not again—

It felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest, it was beating so fast. I can't get caught again, no way. I started to panic, and suddenly all strength escaped my body as I started to slow down. I couldn’t think straight as all thoughts left my mind seeing those colors again, getting flashbacks of that night. The lights, then being pushed straight into the cop’s hands, my friends running away, leaving me alone. San was suddenly next to me.

"Hey, Y/N, don't slow down, we need to lose them! I know a shortcut, follow me!" He yelled over the sounds of our engines and through his helmet, as I suddenly was back from the flashback as I looked behind me, seeing as the cops getting closer and closer.

I just nodded, suddenly feeling my strength coming back to me. There's no way they will catch me again. I quickly followed after San, passing by the cars, the police still following us, getting closer. San turned right onto a street, then left. We went through alleys and little streets, where only a bike would fit. I had no idea where were we, but I didn't care, because it seemed like San's plan was working and the red and blue lights were now far away from us. Suddenly, San turned left and went inside an abandoned factory's court. He quickly stopped and turned off the engine, signaling for me to do the same. I rolled next to him, and switched the key to turn off the engine. I glanced behind my back, I didn't see any signs of the police, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe. I took off my helmet quickly, starting to inhale and exhale quickly.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair stressed, pulling it away from my face.

"Come, let's go inside, bring your bike too." San said, getting off his bike as he started pushing it towards the building.

As I got off my bike, I was shaking, the adrenaline was still in my blood. We brought our bikes inside and I needed to sit quickly. I sat down, pressing my back against my bike, lifting my knees up to my chest.

"I think they're gone." San sat down, doing the same as me.

He glanced over me, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I said, still not looking at him.

"Are you really that scared of the cops?" I could hear it in his voice that he was smiling.

"San, this is really not the time where you can say shit like that." I glanced over at him. I guess he saw my expression, because his face changed.

"Sorry, I didn’t—" We lifted our heads up as we heard the siren sounds. The red and blue lights lit the walls of the factory, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

"Shit, shit, they are coming here." I stood up, San did too. But suddenly, I heard the sirens getting further and further away. I let out the big breath I was holding this whole time.

"They just passed by, idiots." San laughed.

I glanced over at him in disbelief, and sat down again next to my bike.

San mirrored me, "We need to wait a little, though, so they will give up searching for us."

"You were in these kinds of situations a lot, huh?" I asked San, staring ahead into the darkness.

"Kinda, that's why I knew what to do." He said sighing. Quiet fell over us as we both were thinking, probably not about the same things as he spoke up, "But I don't get it. What did you do that you got almost arrested? Did you crash your bike and kill someone?”

He looked at me frowning. I scoffed at him; I really couldn’t believe he was like this.

"You don't know anything about me, so please stop assuming things when you don't know shit." I stared at him angrily, "It's making me feel sick, San. I'm so fucking tired of your comments, what did I do to you for you to behave like this with me?"

I asked him, looking his way then at my hands, "I was just fucking racing because I love to do so. Why is that so bad? Don’t you do the same thing, San? I’ve got arrested because my friends left me there, so I was blamed for that whole mess, on my own. So, please, ask before you talk shit."

There was a minute of silence, "Fuck, I didn't know, Y/N. I don't fucking know why I'm an asshole with you. It is so easy to piss you off."

I glanced at him; he was staring ahead as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair.

"And you are enjoying this?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Of course I don’t, it’s just—" He turned my way, "Lately I did it just because I wanted to race against you and I thought if I provoke you, then you'll come. I know it sounds stupid, but don't say you didn't like it."

He seemed nervous a little. Choi San being nervous, interesting.

"I did enjoy it, San. But what the hell, why couldn't you just ask me nicely if I wanted to come with you? I would've, if you weren't such an asshole.” I looked at him, “And our bickering or whatever did not start here.”

"Yeah…I know." He looked down at his hands, "When we were kids you suddenly just got cold and pushed me away like I was some garbage. I was a little kid, it hurt."

He admitted. I didn’t recognize this San, this softer, nicer, side of him was strange to me.

"I was a little kid too. Kids are mean, you just had a weak heart." I said to him, "That does not mean you have to be an asshole your whole life, because I mistreated you when we were fucking kids. This is it, San. You need to adapt to some situations; you have to let go of foolish things at times."

I looked at him seriously.

"Forgive me for being such an asshole, you did not deserve it. I just tried to blame other people for my weaknesses." He admitted, and for a second, he looked vulnerable. But it vanished away quickly.

And suddenly we started sharing about our lives, the cops long forgotten, things that we didn't know about the other. I could see the side of him, which he rarely let anyone see. He could be really goofy, we laughed together, trying to recall the ridiculous situations we were in when we were just kids.

"And just so you know, I bought my bike, not someone else. I worked for it, for years. I took shift after shift, because I wanted something. You know…it hurt when you said those things to me." I suddenly felt like I had to tell him how much he stabbed a knife into my heart that day.

"Fuck this, this whole situation is ridiculous." He scoffed, his voice getting weaker. "I'm so fucked up. I'm so fucking tired of adapting to what people expect of me. I did this my whole life."

I looked at him as he buried his face into his palms.

Silence fell over the chilly air as San seemed to be on edge, while he quietly sniffed. I couldn’t believe that San was crying. It came out of the blue; I did not understand the cause of it.

Suddenly, I slipped next to him. I just wanted to hug him, he looked so broken. So, I went closer to him, still sitting on the ground, and hugged him tightly as he scooted closer to me and buried his face into my neck.

"It's okay, San. Sometimes life can be too much. Just let it out." I stroked his back patiently. I felt some tears falling onto my neck.

I couldn’t believe I was hugging Choi San right now, but I have always been like this. I don't care if he harmed me, if he needs a shoulder to cry on in his most vulnerable moment, then I’m going to be there for him because no one deserves to be alone in these moments.

"I'm so tired, I'm sick of this pain…" He mumbled into my neck, sobbing a bit, "After my mom died—"

"Your mom died?" I lifted his head from my neck, cupping his face with my hands. I looked at him with round eyes. I didn't know his mother died; I was shocked.

"Yeah, right after you moved away..." He said, looking into my eyes with his puffy ones. He seemed empty, he seemed like he wasn't feeling anything at all, "She had cancer, she…She struggled a lot…and I was alone, I needed someone to be there for me, I tried…I really tried." He said, his voice getting quieter.

I did not want to believe what I just heard, his mom was an angel, everyone liked her when she stepped on the stage alongside with the town’s major. They looked like true leaders. I always looked up to her, and now she’s gone.

"Oh my God, I didn't know, San. I'm sorry for your loss.” I blinked away my own tears as I wiped away his, “If I would've known—"

I felt a bit overwhelmed.

Suddenly his expression changed, it seemed like he had realized what he had done in the last few minutes. He locked his feelings away, again. He thought he showed too much of his weaker, softer, side and suddenly, he started closing off, just like I used to do. The old San was coming back. He pushed my hands away from his face aggressively, not looking at me.

"Whatever, I don't need your pity." He stared ahead, and leaned back against his bike, lifting his knees up to his chest.

I scoffed, "What did I do now?”

I blinked at him, not understanding the sudden mood change, “Okay, you can't be helped. I tried, I really tried to be nice with you, but you are impossible."

I stood up, "I think the cops are long gone, let's get the fuck out of here." I pushed my bike outside not waiting for San. I sat on my bike, starting the engine. San arrived next to me, with his bike.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He looked at me with sincerity, but I did not fall for it.

"Yeah, me too, have a good night." I said with a disappointed look and I put my helmet on to drive away quickly. I just needed to get as far away as possible from him.

Weeks passed since that night. I tried to avoid San as much as I could. I just couldn't face him; I was so tired of his games. There were a few occasions when he tried to talk to me, but I just ignored him. It's not that I don't understand him, I do, I know what he's been through…at least I can imagine. That night, I tried to see his good side, but he did not let me in. And it hurt, because I knew he needed someone, and I would've been by his side. But he suddenly decided to push me away. He closed himself off, stayed in the dark, not allowing me to light his path for a way out. I really felt hopeful for a second that he could change, that he would lower his walls and let me in. But no, he'll just never change, so I gave up on hoping. At least I thought so, but these past days I just couldn't get him out of my mind. When I closed my eyes, I saw him as he smiled at me in for that few minutes when we were freely talking about ourselves. I'm not going to lie, I liked that side of San, it was so pure. And I would've never thought I was going to say such things about Choi San. But he made me feel strange things.

It was late into the night when I was still in the car service. A car needed to be fixed by tomorrow and I told my dad he could rest, he has worked all day long and I could see he was really tired, so I wanted to fix this car by tomorrow. The weather seemed like it would rain soon, lighting striking every few minutes.

Suddenly, I heard an engine sound from outside. I frowned, who it is this late? I opened up the garage door and I found myself facing a soaked San, getting off his Suzuki, staring at me the whole time. His clothes were starting to soak through, the raindrops falling off from his leather jacket. It had started pouring badly; I haven’t even realized it. My heart was beating fast. He took off his helmet, his hair immediately getting wet. San ran his fingers through his hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him without any emotion.

"I just want to talk to you, Y/N. Please, let me take you to a place." He looked at me with pleading eyes.

"In this weather, San, seriously?" I pointed out, still standing under the garage, safe from the pouring rain.

"It'll stop in a few minutes." He said his, black clothes soaked now, waterdrops falling off his face.

"How do you know? Are you a weather expert now too?" I asked frowning. I was just as hostile as he once was towards me.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair again. "I deserved that. Just like the pool."

He looked at me again. I could see a lot of regret in his eyes.

"That night, I closed myself off because your face reminded me of all the people who pitied me back then, when she died. I was only 11 years old, and I got sick of seeing those faces, it always reminded me of her death."

He started to tear up, his voice getting weak again, "Please, Y/N, forgive me. I know I fucked up everything, I just—you—you drive me crazy and I can't behave around you. I feel like when I'm near you I’ll lose my mind, like I’m not myself anymore. I said a lot of shitty things to you, and I judged you a lot even though I didn't know anything about you. I want to change that, I want to know you better, Y/N. I want to let you in, I'll do that if you also want it, but I hope you won't be scared of what you'll see."

I saw as teardrops fell down on his face, but the rain immediately washed it away, his voice cracking from the flow of emotions.

My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. I didn't except him to say things like these to me, "I'm not scared, San, to see your dark side. I never was, and I never will be."

Tears started to appear in my eyes, to my surprise, "You said some hurtful things to me, but I get it, I really do. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I was just so shocked, I didn't know…I didn't know, San."

I started to sob, tears falling from my face.

"I know, I know, baby." He stepped closer to me as he reached out for my hands pulling me out into the rain, into his chest. I cried into his chest as he rubbed my back up and down, my clothes and my hair soaked. I should’ve been the one comforting him, but in the end, I was the one sobbing like a little girl into his chest.

We stood in the heavy rain; our clothes wet, my hair sticking to my forehead yet he still hugged me like he never wanted to let me go. Caressing my back, he kissed the top of my head. I tried to inhale and exhale, so I could finally speak.

"I forgive you, and also I'm sorry." I whispered to him, lifting my head up from his chest.

He didn't let me go, his left hand was on my waist and he reached his right hand up to my cheeks to wipe off my tears, but they were wet again with tears and raindrops. "It's okay, don't cry, please, because then I'll cry too."

He smiled at me with the sincerity I've never seen before. His eyes were saying so much, it hurt. He finally let me in, allowed me to see his real self.

I laughed at that, and he followed suit, laughing together at this predicament, "Look at us, soaked like wet rats."

He smiled at me, never taking his sharp eyes off me.

Then suddenly his expression became serious, he stared at me as if I was his treasure, wanting to bury me, so no one could take me away, "I want to know you better, I want to know everything about you. What you like, what you don't, what is your favorite color, what do you like to eat, what you did while you were gone from here, what does it feel like to ride your bike…I want to know you, and never let you go."

He said, his hand still on my cheek, accompanied by his other one.

I smiled at him. I felt so happy at that exact moment, I didn't care if I was soaked, I only saw him, "Me too."

I said quietly.

He leaned closer to me, his lips almost touching mine, "Can I kiss you?"

He whispered against my lips sweetly.

Chills ran through my body. I never wanted anything more than him kissing me. I just nodded; words long forgotten. He closed the distance between us, and when our lips finally met, there was a loud thunder rumbling the world, lighting flashing around us and rain pouring from above, washing away our past where we said a lot of stupid things to each other. We could start with a clear page, melting our futures together. Our lips never stopped moving, it felt like heaven and hell met with each other as our lips moved against the other’s, just like when we were racing, both of us tried to win the other over. I welcomed San's darkness wholeheartedly and tried to scare it away with my light.

Then suddenly the rain stopped, and we separated from each other, looking up at the sky. The clouds were gone and the full moon was shining so brightly it looked like it was almost daylight.

I chuckled looking up, "You should apply to be a weatherman."

San was gazing at me so lovingly I felt like I was going to melt right there, "See? Now you can come with me, I want to show you something."

He held my hands.

"Okay, I should bring my bike then." I smiled at him, feeling as happiness crawled into my chest.

"It would be more proper if I was the one taking you there, but I want to race you." He held my waist and pecked my lips a few times. I still needed to get used to this San. I really liked it.

"I'm going to beat you." I scrunched my nose cutely.

"Okay, princess, but first, go change. I don't want you to catch a cold." He caressed my cheekbones.

"I'll bring you some clothes of dad’s, you'll catch a cold too otherwise." I kissed him quickly and then went inside the house, smiling like a fool, to grab some dry clothes.

It was the middle of the night, but two engine sounds cut through the late-night life. We were going up on winding roads, forests covering both sides of the road. I was laughing beneath my helmet as San goofed around, slowing down and then speeding again. I think I have never felt more happier than right now. It was pure freedom going through these curvy roads, racing against each other. But in the end, it was just the two of us sharing our passion, riding our motorbikes, the moon shining upon us brightly, guiding our roads, showing our future ahead of us.

I finally knew I belonged somewhere, to someone. It was my hometown, and Choi San.

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katsutora · 2 years

Text

— HOMESICK

ft. isagi yoichi ; itoshi rin ; nagi seishiro ; bachira meguru ; chigiri hyōma ; itoshi sae

summary: them picking you up after a trip

note: i’d like to be everyone’s weekly teeth rotting fluff provider but then i remembered i dont have it in me to serve content every week LMFAO i lack prompts besties

⚘ ISAGI YOICHI

ㅤㅤhas a relatively normal reaction as he sees you approaching him, but is actually trying his best not to freak out. he smiles at you softly as if he didn’t almost explode from all the excitement. once you’re in the car, he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home. can’t stop staring at you too (a huge simp, good for you) because it’s been a while since he last saw you in person and it’s still kind of surreal to him. hmm, what was that? hands on the wheels, eyes on the road? yoichi, seriously, pay attention oh my god. you better promise you’ve tried everything and that this really is the last resort. “kaiser is in the middle of the street.” oh? oh. oh shit. “i'll run him over.” i mean... you gotta do what you gotta do to snap him out of it, right? (no)

⚘ ITOSHI RIN

ㅤㅤhe’s definitely in a sour mood. seething. most likely scared every single person who passed by him. the fact that he’s rapidly gaining fame doesn’t help at all (prayer circle for that one poor kid who only wanted to ask him for his autograph). he’s leaning against the wall, looking super annoyed. the root of the problem? not the fact that he has to be there of course, more like why the hell haven't you arrived at the gate yet (calm down rin it’s only been like ten minutes lmao). misses you as hell but won’t tell? that rhymes. immediately wraps you in his coat as an excuse to hug you tightly. “t’s not that cold, rin.” refuses to let you go. he’s clinging onto you for dear life as if he’s finally found you after a lifetime. “i know. just a little longer.” his grip only tightens when he notices people looking at you two. gee, they’re just trying to get to the exit gate, stop blocking it smh.

⚘ NAGI SEISHIRO

ㅤㅤit’s almost comical how he suddenly turned into a lighthouse as soon as he spotted you. people are putting on their sunglasses indoors, someone help. mandatory bear hug (but there’s a 50% chance that you’ll both fall to the ground because he can be clumsy like that). “that was so cringe.” “you love it, though.” “i love you.” ugh sappy. if somehow you survived that acrobatic act, he’ll bend his 190cm ass after putting you down so you can kiss the top of his head! if you don’t, well, he's not gonna stand up any time soon because it’s “comfy” and definitely not because getting up is a hassle. gets super chatty all the way home. “did you know shidou decked rin again today?” “barou planted his face on the ground yesterday, king who?” “i told choki to watch the food in the oven btw.” says it in the most casual manner; you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “mhm. wait WHAT?”

⚘ BACHIRA MEGURU

ㅤㅤa pinball. will not hesitate to break through a crowd, bumping into everyone and everything. should be classified as a hazard to society. no jk. but he did almost tackle a kid when he was running towards you. has his arms wide open and ready to tackle you too embrace you. “you’re back! welcome home!” “i’m home!” “welcome home!” “i’m home!” don’t you have anything else to say besides that lmfao (it really went on for a solid five minutes). falls asleep on your lap in the car since he already spent all his energy on that whole “embodying a golden retriever” thing back there. looks so peaceful and angelic like that. also sleep-talks. “y’re hmm”. you didn’t expect him to remain this quiet but it’s the best nap he’s had in a while so uhh “karaoke night?” karaoke night he said. good luck to your poor neighbors tonight.

⚘ CHIGIRI HYŌMA

ㅤㅤladies and gentlemen, him. a runway model. is he picking someone up or is he going somewhere? with looks like that, no one will ever know. forget the elegant saunter; the moment he saw you, he full on sprinted. the type that brings you flowers and your favorite snacks. seems like someone who knows what he’s doing right? but when you pat his head in response to his warm welcome, he short-circuited because you just stole his line. “i’ve missed you.” immediately softens and melts in your embrace. you think it’s all calm and that until his sister arrives out of nowhere, calling out both of your names and the next thing you know, she’s taking pictures of you as if this is your graduation day. “lookie over here, you two!” you’ve never seen someone speedrunning five stages of grief in record time.

⚘ ITOSHI SAE

ㅤㅤmans turning the airport into a red carpet premiere smh; cameras flashing everywhere, people eager to ask him questions, etc. he’s learning that looking down on his phone isn’t a good enough disguise, and that his bored face isn’t scary enough to fend off his fans. oh finally, he thought as he spotted you amidst the crowd. “over here, sae!” “oh my, it’s itoshi sae!” but he has his gaze fixated on you and only you. don’t worry, of course he’ll notice if you grow uncomfortable with all the attention and will immediately wrap his arm around your figure. !! breaking news: itoshi sae quits the world of football and is now becoming a personal bodyguard. navigates through the crowd while mumbling “fall under my spell.” boy what they’re not shidou (narrator: they did, in fact, fell under his spell). “give me your number!” uhh? “move in with me!” wow it’s not your sae, huh? it’s everyone’s sae.

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babsisbakery · 5 months

Text

Part of the Aftermath

Lia Walti x fem!reader (part 2 of How far will you take it)

All Lia could do after reading the letter was to cry. She has never been such a big mess. She was full on sobbing her soul out. It didn't take her long to realise her mistakes, all the times she mistreated you. Every memory with you replayed in her mind. If only she had cherished them instead of taking you for granted. Some part of her consciousness told her, it doesn't matter you will stay with her anyways. That you wouldn't be able to live without her. That your life circled around her, and to some extent it was true. That she could toy as much with you as she pleased and you would run along with it. Was this the devil on her shoulder, who didn't have her best interests in mind? Or was this her ego and narcissism speaking? How was she so blind to your suffering? Well there is a simple answer to the last question, you were brilliant in adapting to people and their energy. But you also could hide your emotions and switch from sad to seemingly happy in an instant. You yourself couldn't differentiate between fake and real smiles anymore. When you were alone, it switched back to your real emotion. To the fatigue brewing in your heart and stomach of pretending.

The tragedy of it all, always behaving as someone you aren't. It took a toll on you. Additionally Lia’s game of cat and mouse wore you incredibly out. Late nights up, crying in bed, quietly, while Lia lays next to you. She never noticed, she probably didn't care either. But you would have done anything to make your girlfriend gleeful. It showed. You sacrificed yourself in the process. Lia enjoyed your company, your devotion without giving the same in return. It's how she thought you'd like it. Let's be real, she didn't truly believe that nonsense. But with this mindset she could sleep without a worry at night, to not stay awake as you do. She didn't have to face reality in a way, she took a liking to having an idyllic life, at least for her it portrayed as such. But the colours of the painting began to fade, turning into greyish tones, the livelihood of it seemed to cease.

Lia had sucked the real person out of you. You didn't stop her until your best friend joined the club and talked some sense into you. At first you didn't listen, well until Lia reached the end of your patience. The last argument was a huge deal for you but Lia waved you off. “I don't want to talk anymore. We will talk later.” But later never comes as we know. She disappeared on you for three days. Didn’t return home. Her actions inspired you to write the letter and camp at your bestie's house. Because only fools stick around when the love is all gone. The love appeared to have vanished into thin air. Puff and it was gone. However love can't just vanish out of nowhere, it took its sweet time torturing you. The tortured poets department would have hired you immediately. Making you look like a joke. And Lia was the clown who told it. Forming the joke to her benefit, stretching it out, prolonging the inevitable: finishing the joke and being done with it. But she wasn't done with you per say. Deep in her heart she sensed longing for you, she got a taste of her own medicine when arriving at an empty home. Not seeing you at training spurred questions to arise. She worried about your well being, which was something new or at least so it seemed.

The sorrow of potentially losing you forever overtook her. With each passing moment the wheels in her head kept turning, trying to figure out what to do, she still had a chance to make it alright, to fix her miserable life. Most importantly to fix her relationship. To fix your broken heart, to make amends with you. To ask for your forgiveness and start a new era. An era of commitment and unwavering love. To love you the right way. Simultaneously to be the girlfriend you deserve and the better person she can be because of you. The question is will Lia convince you to stay or will she set you free to be at peace? Which path will she choose?...

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine #lia walti #arsenal wfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc

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sublimecatgalaxy · 9 months

Note

would you write something for johanna (thg) x fem!reader where the others (like peeta, katniss, finnick etc.) always see the tough sarcastic sides to her, but then they see her around her gf (reader) whos really soft and gentle like opposites of her and they see that shes johannas soft spot? sorry for the terrible english!

Bestie I love this, let's imagine together that district 13 is fine and not run by a crazy bitch alright? LMAO I love writing non-canon for the hunger games people cuz they can all be together and happy :)

When Johanna and the others were rescued from the capital and we were all reunited, people noticed a difference in her compared to how she was before. She was still herself, witty, with dark humor, beautiful even without her long, silky hair. But there was a new side to her that most people, other than Finnick, never saw.

That's the side that she showed when she's with me.

We met nearly a month after her first games. She was on her victory tour and I was a painter in District two and she would say that I caught her eye from the crowd, so much that she had to find me and ask for my name and an address that she could write to me.

No one would really imagine her as a romantic but damn the girl was good and she swept me off my feet in only a few months. She wrote to me, sure, her last letter coming in right before the quarter quell. When we found out that she would be reaped again and brought back into the place that brought her so much torment- neither of us could comprehend it.

I thought I was never going to see her again.

That was until she had a friend of hers, a peace keeper in my district, sneak me out of my district and into thte capital where I could see her and I did. We spent the night together and that's when she told me about the plan to get Katniss and the others out of the arena. She also informed me of the greatest secret that they were all keeping- Discrict 13 was alive and well and ready to accommodate the pressure and stress of a full revolution.

When I found out that she was taken by the capital, my whole world fell apart. It was probably the only thing that Katniss and I were able to bond over, the fact that our lovers were in the clutches of President Snow and being used as propoganda. It was horrible.

So when it was agreed upon that they would be rescued, I jumped at the opportunity to go with Gale and help them in the process of getting them out of the capital, no matter what it took.

When we finally reunited in the jet, it was like the whole world stopped. As if every piece of me that was missing was finally back in it's right spot, like a missing puzzle piece she was finally back in my arms.

"It's kind of cute that they could do this." Johanna whispers in my ear, watching Finnick and Annie dance around in circles in the middle of a huge, loving crowd. I turn to her with a fond smile and nod, leaning into her the slightest bit as Katniss approaches us with a sarcastic smile on her lips, as always.

"You two look couple-y." She chuckles and I smile, clutching onto Johanna's hand that rests on my thigh and I feel her tense up as if she's taking it personally.

"That's what happens when you're a couple, genius." She snaps with a sarcastic tone and I huff, giving her a gentle bump with my shoulder and she mutters a quiet 'sorry' under her breath.

"I'm just saying, after everything we've been through, it's nice to see you actually act like a nice person." There's a pause for a moment, as if the two of them are finally understanding each other and instead of passive aggression, Johanna responds differently, taking even me off guard.

"Yeah well she brings it out in me like Peeta does with you." My heart warms for a moment as she sends me a small smile, her cheeks blushed in a deep red and her chin dips downward to conceal it.

"That's really sweet actually." Katniss sits beside me with a huff, motioning to the crowds of people in front of us that are cheerfully dancing and singing around the happy couple. "You guys don't dance?"

"I do, she doesn't." I jut my thumb in Johanna's direction but she just laughs and turns to me with an unconvinced look.

"You could convince me but you haven't asked."

"Please dance with me." I nearly immediately beg, standing up out of my chair so I can grab her hands and tug her towards the dancefloor, wanting nothing more than for people to see her happy and loved, especially Finnich given how much he worries for Johanna.

"Yes, ma'am." She sighs and turns to throw a wink at Katniss who just laughs and claps her hands at us.

"Wow, you're whipped."

"Pipe down, Everdeen."

#johanna #johanna mason #johanna x reader #johanna mason x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games fic

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drewharrisonwriter · 1 year

Text

Donor | Part 1.5 | Not Dad Enough

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Oh, no. I made a drabble... I think. LOL

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

This was supposed to be just a short drabble for my fic Donor. But I guess this is too long, lol so this happened between chapters 1 and 2 and shows Henry and reader going through the first round of IUI.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

During the week of your first IUI procedure, Henry had flown back over the weekend before, having taken a break from filming his latest project for the year. The process leading up to the insemination wasn't too time-consuming; they just needed his sample, and the whole procedure could be completed within a few hours. So, you were quite surprised when he mentioned that he had taken off for the next two weeks.

"Why? Do you have plans with your family?" you asked, racking your brain to recall any upcoming birthdays or events.

He shook his head, his expression earnest. "No, not at all. I just... I want to make sure you're alright," he replied, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and determination.

You let out a small, surprised chuckle. "You really don't have to do that, you know. Besides, what could possibly go wrong after the procedure?" you teased, though a warmth spread through you at his thoughtfulness.

He chuckled softly in response. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I just want to be here, at least until you have to take the first test."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. It was in these small moments that you realized just how you lucked out on having Henry as your best friend and your future child's father. ---

As the procedure was completed, you found yourself lying on the examination table, legs up in the air as instructed, for the next 15 minutes. Henry stood by your side, holding your hand gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Feeling okay?" he asked softly, concern etching his features as he looked down at you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, your fingers tightening around his. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just a little nervous, I guess."

Henry's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be nervous. You got this," he said, his voice full of encouragement.

You nodded, grateful for his presence. "I know, it's just... What if it doesn't work? What if this whole process ends up being for nothing? I feel like I have wasted your time and...sperm." You grimaced at the last part and Henry laughed.

He sighed softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Hey, there will always be another time for a next round. We can keep trying until it works, alright? But for now, let's just focus on this moment."

Your heart swelled at his words. Despite his playful demeanor, Henry's sincerity always managed to shine through, comforting you when you needed it the most. You gave him a small smile. "You're right. Thanks for being here with me, Hank... and you know, for allowing me to drag you into this."

His answering smile was soft and reassuring. "Always, Y/N."

---

After the procedure, you both returned home.

Henry suggested watching a movie to help you relax, and you settled on "Night Hunter." Despite Henry's eye roll at your choice, he acquiesced, knowing that you were set on it and not in the mood for any debates.

The film had its share of tense moments, interspersed with lighter ones that brought occasional snickers from you.

One particular scene caught your attention—Walter Marshall, the character played by Henry, was sitting on the kitchen floor with his on-screen daughter, attempting to have a heartfelt moment.

You couldn't help but chuckle dryly, cringing at the dialogue and the lack of genuine paternal energy emanating from Henry's portrayal.

"Wow," you commented, your voice laced with amusement, your gaze locked on the screen.

Henry glanced at you, his brows furrowing. "What's so amusing?"

"Come on," you chuckled, nudging him playfully. "If you're trying to show off your potential co-parenting skills, this movie isn't exactly boosting your case."

"Hey!" He gave you a playful mock-glare. "You're making fun of my acting skills. How dare you?"

"Just a little," you admitted, giving him another playful nudge.

“So mean,” he muttered, his hand moving theatrically to his chest, as if nursing a wounded heart. Sooo dramatic. You laughed.

Your gaze remained fixed on the screen. "I mean, it's just that I'm not quite getting the 'dad vibes' from you in this scene."

Henry laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. "Fair enough. Guess I have some work to do if I want to impress as a movie dad."

You grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely a bit of room for improvement."

He leaned back on the couch, arm casually draped across the backrest, his eyes still on the movie. "Well, I'll consider this valuable feedback."

"I'm glad I could contribute to your acting growth," you quipped, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Always striving for improvement," Henry replied, a hint of laughter lingering in his voice. "But in my defense, being a movie dad is a whole different ball game."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing. "Oh, I see. So, you're saying real-life co-parenting would be a breeze for you?"

Henry's lips curled into a playful smile. "Well, I'd like to think I'd have a better grasp of it, but I guess there's only one way to find out."

The two of you exchanged amused glances, the easy banter between you a testament to the comfort of your friendship. As the movie continued to play, you leaned back against the couch, feeling the warmth of Henry's presence beside you.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," you mused softly, your voice holding a touch of anticipation.

"Indeed," he agreed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the screen. And as the movie scenes unfolded, you felt yourself growing more at ease, the laughter and companionship settling any lingering nerves from the day's events.

Eventually, the familiarity of your shared space and the comfort of Henry's company began to take its toll, and you found yourself succumbing to drowsiness. Your head rested against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile forming as he watched your peaceful expression in sleep. His heart swelled with a mix of fondness and a growing sense of longing. He carefully adjusted his position, allowing you to rest comfortably against him, his arm holding you close. As the movie continued to play in the background, he couldn't help but contemplate the possibility of a deeper connection with you, one that extended beyond the realm of co-parenting.

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henrycavilledit #hcavilledit

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anika-ann · 7 months

Text

Back and Forth - part 5

Part 5 - Backdrop

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 16500 🥹 (bestie I-)

Chapter summary: In which secrets are revealed - by you, by Steve... and by your captors.

Series masterlist

Warnings: pain and unhealthy relationship to pain, mentions of chronic illness and chronic pain (and the relationship to it), blood, canon-typical violence, gunshot wounds, issues with self-worth, implied emotional abuse from a parent (or just shitty parenting), brief torture, mention of human experimentation and Nazi doctors, multiple mentions of death, plenty of swearing

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: Going full circle, sweet readers - aka yes, the beginning might sound familiar, because it is where the prologue came from. And yes, it’s a very long chapter, but it truly feels it works better as one. If you do wish to split, the best point is at the two thirds (the divider). Dooon’t though :)

The exhaustion was coming and going in waves, alternating with pain, concern and fruitless determination.

You wondered if Steve felt the same; you assumed he did. Asking would feel a little silly though; you didn’t see the point and frankly, you and Steve had never been close enough to just sit down on a couch and share your feelings, keeping them close to the vest except for the heat of your occasional arguments. So you stayed quiet, alone in your wondering.

The pulse of pain in your legs dulled a while ago; you let your head lull back against the wall you were leaned against, the thud sounding just as dull.

The irony wasn’t lost on you; you and Steve were colleagues, very reluctant friends as best, guarded and unsure about the other most times despite him being one of the most honest people you had ever encountered. It was true that you stood by his side and he did by yours, but there had always been an invisible wall between you. By the irony of fate, now, when an actual wall separated you, you could feel the figurative one crumble down.

It was surreal and frankly scary; which was just as ironic, given your circumstance that should feel much more terrifying. And yet… you couldn’t help the little warmth spreading in your chest, knowing your back was aligned to the same wall Steve’s was, mere inches apart, and while admitting certain things to him hadn’t been pleasant, in hindsight, it felt good. No matter the outcome, you had no doubt that if you survived, you’d remember these moments fondly, at least to some point.

And yes, it probably made you a masochist; but what else was new.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the files?” Steve’s low voice snapped you out of your musing, making your heart jump a bit in fright.

It shouldn’t have surprised you he asked one of many questions you didn’t want to answer. It was another of his annoying and endearing talents – and you rarely gave him the satisfaction of replying fully, just for that. But what the hell, right? Maybe you were about to die here. And you had just thought about how telling the truth, while embarrassing, felt liberating too.

“Would you have listened?” you questioned him back anyhow.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

You heard him shift, the clank of metal and a low hiss escaping his lips making you gulp. You weren’t the only one battling pain.

“I would have heard you out. I admit I was angry at that time and I wasn’t… behaving as I should have and I’m sorry. But I would have heard you out.”

A brief barely-there smile curled your lips as he apologized again. Steve Rogers, ladies and gentlemen, unable to bear the fact he himself had been less than a gentleman. You might have been far from a friend and even farer from being able to tell you knew him and understood him despite having screamed at him the opposite, but you understood enough. Even if you sometimes wished you didn’t.

“But would you have listened?”

He didn’t reply.

You both knew the answer: no. He wouldn’t have, because he was the damn Captain America and he believed he knew the best, blindly following his inner compass pointing the true North even should all hell break loose, and those files weren’t a real concern anyway, were they?

Damn him.

And yet. As you challenged him further, you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest humming louder, because yes, that was who he was, and you liked him that way, even if he was driving you mad at the same time.

“Or would have you just waved it off, because you are invincible?”

Silence stretched again.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on hearing his breathing through the wall, still startled and relieved at how easy it was to do so. It was a good distraction from the pain still radiating from your wounds; and it kept your hope alive.

Dum spiro spero, right?

Despite the situation – or maybe out of spite, given both yours and Steve’s nature – you were still breathing and so was Steve. As infuriating as he was, you knew your heart would break to pieces if he stopped. Unable to walk or not, you’d find a way to break through the wall in mere seconds if he stopped talking to you.

Which he did just now.

Something in your ribcage contracted painfully, your voice shaky when you spoke his name, praying he was only offended at you calling him out. After all, being shot really fucking hurt, so you’d rather not move at all, let alone try to crash through concrete; that was the sole reason for your prayers. Liar, whispered a breathless voice, but you ignored it, your heart hammering against your sternum.

“…Steve?”

Blood rushed through your ears, making it impossible to tell, again, whether you could hear him breathe at all, or whether it was just your wishful thinking; long bony fingers of an invisible hand curled around your throat and squeezed at the mere thought that the latter was the case.

You swore, you swore to all Gods you knew, that if he had lied and his fresh bullet wound wasn’t just a graze, if he was actively dying right now and you didn’t even know and you couldn’t tell, if this infuriating bast-

“I don’t think I’m invincible,” he said at last and you released the breath you were holding, the coil in your chest loosening.

A brief flare of anger tried to replace the heavy weight on your chest – because God, you could kill him yourself for giving you a scare like that – but it was hard to stay mad at the man. It was, in fact, one of the most maddening things about him. That, and the fact he made it impossible not to care about him; a deadly feature on someone who was always the first to rush to catch a bullet with someone else’s name on it. Because he did think he was invincible.

God, he was such a likeable ass.

“Oh? Could have fooled me, really,” you sassed him, pretending you didn’t only barely manage to choke out the words. Honestly, it was a small miracle that you did, considering you had just swallowed the hysteria threatening to creep into your voice.

The responding groan of annoyance had the corners of your lips turn upward. It was like a drop of honey melting on your tongue; warm sweet satisfaction and relief at once, calming your nerves. Steve sure had plenty of fight in him left and you could kindle that fire if you pleased.

He had plenty of spite left too; and that was a very good thing.

“Don’t get snarky with me now.”

“Don’t bullshit me then,” you threw back, earning a huff – and then, a sigh, a few beats of silence, as if he was gathering strength to deal with your bullshit.

Frankly, at times you were surprised he still found that strength.

The other thing you noticed, however, was the pattern of his breathing not having changed. It was erratic in comparison to before he had projected and remained that way. There were many things this could mean, but one – the most likely one – had your heart clench painfully.

He hadn’t dodged the consequences of getting hurt in spectral form. It wasn’t just a startle; his pain did linger, just like yours would have. Your own chest ached at the realization; and your heart raced, because surely it was just a matter of time before he’d ask.

Ask the one forbidden question.

Then, guilt twisted you stomach for not having prepared him for the aftermath of getting shot as a spectre; however, the wise insistent voice in your head reminded you that you couldn’t have. You couldn’t have afforded him to know – you still couldn’t.

And it would have never been an issue if Tony damn Stark hadn’t insisted on dragging you to the stupid charity auction and Steve hadn’t agreed to it and then if he hadn’t projected, but he just had to be the ultimate good guy and take care of his injured teammate by any means necessary. Mr. Hero. Mr. Invincible. Case on damn point. You might have not been the best agent the agency had, but you used your brains at times and if they had only listened goddamnit-

“I don’t think I’m invincible…” he repeated slowly and you bit your tongue as not to protest to such claim again, taking a deep breath instead.

Silence stretched; then, a wavering breath of hesitation, his own this time. He was probably pondering whether he should tell you whatever he was about to say; whether you could be trusted not to turn that against him later.

You gulped, guilt nagging at your mind again.

You truly must have been excellent at your open despise for some of his decisions and him himself if his reluctance was anything to go by. Then again, that was hardly any news – his shouts from earlier had been enough of a testament to that. Even as the moments were hazy, wrapped in a fog, his voice still echoed in your ears.

‘Forget you hate me.’

‘Forget you think I don’t deserve the smallest bit of my fame.’

‘Forget that you think I’m just a glorified science experiment.’

God, he really had no idea in how high regard you held him, did he?

Sure, you hadn’t considered him entirely flawless, even as it was a close call; but you knew he deserved every bit of the reverence some people had in their eyes when they met him. Sometimes, it was just hard to remember that when he was flaunting his perfection right in front of your peasant Inhuman eyes, when you knew you could never reach that perfection yourself.

And yet, for whatever reason, he must have decided you were worthy of his trust; or perhaps he, just like you, thought there wasn’t much to lose anymore.

“But… people deserve a strong leader,” he whispered, the determination in his voice almost scarily firm even as he spoke with strange softness. “Agents need to feel they have someone they can lean onto when they feel like they have no more strength of their own left. They need order and someone to follow when everything else is chaos. They need someone fearless when facing the horrors we face every day. They need someone who swallows their own pain, so they find it in them to continue even when they feel like giving up, someone to take all the punches and kicks and stabs in the back and keeps going nevertheless, because-“

“No.”

His voice fell silent at the single word that spilled from your lips without a warrant, just like the tears that suddenly seemed to find their way to your cheeks. You didn’t think to blink them away before they were already out; you hadn’t realized they had started gathering in your eyes in the first place.

The breath you dared to draw was shaky, hesitant, and painful. Every single word Steve spoke drove a small needle through your lungs; painfully familiar and yet so foreign.

Be strong.

Be fearless.

Don’t let them see.

Get up. Now.

Swallow your pain.

I believe in your potential.

You are a marvel.

You have a duty.

Do good.

Do not dare to fail.

Lead.

Inspire.

All but the last two echoed through your head, spoken in your late father’s voice, clear as ever. Warm and distant; high praise and endless disappointment; a gentle touch and its screaming absence. The light at the end of the tunnel and the ball and chain at your neck, all at once.

It was hard to breathe, your mind hazier than your vision, emotions swirling in your chest violently; guilt, anxiety, longing, compassion. Recognition. Clarity.

Steve Rogers had it different, so much different, and yet, the weight of his burden felt familiar. Only his burden was the heavier for all the watchful eyes following his every move, as reverent as judging; with yours right there in the sea of millions, just waiting for an opportunity to lift yourself up on the ruins left behind by his failure, because if even Captain America made mistakes and wasn’t enough at times, then you could all shine just the same and there was still hope for lousy ordinary people like you to be excellent.

Didn’t you all wait in the shadows of his greatness, praying that he’d prove to be human like the rest of you – and stayed terrified of it at the same time?

Because he had a point, didn’t he? If not even Captain America could lift himself up after getting knocked down, then the rest of you might as well call it quits and abandon all hope.

Steve Rogers lived in own personal circle of hell just to keep you all a little further from your own.

He remained silent as you fought to form words after his admission; rendered speechless and stunned.

“Steve, no. I mean… yes. I— you’re not-“

The cacophony of feelings awoken by the epiphany of how painfully familiar these feelings were tasted salty on your lips, for the nth time in the past few hours. You struggled to explain, but you couldn’t just leave it at ‘no’, you couldn't, because while you heard him, you truly did, he was also so, so wrong.

And yet, he was terrifyingly right. Hadn’t you benefited from his immense strength just moments ago when he projected and treated you? Hadn’t you been insanely grateful for the strength that had nothing to do with the serum, with being a supersoldier, but had everything to do with being Steve Rogers?

The Captain America himself.

It was no wonder he had seemed like an angel at times, looked like he’d been carved by an ancient master of sculpture; a Greek demi-god, a Titan. If he truly believed what he said – and there was no doubt he did, it now screamed from every move, every decision, every tinniest gesture of his that you could recall in your pitiful state – he might have as well been Atlas himself. The world's beast of a burden.

And that was one hell of a burden to take on for one person. Even a person like him.

“I mean… you’re right, Steve, obviously. But… you’re wrong, because that’s just--- too much. And because we---we need to know you’re only human too, that you’re--- well,” you hummed, chuckling humourlessly, “if you are human at all, that is.”

He didn’t scoff, but it was a close thing. A funny sound he should make more often. It did sound quite human.

“I’m plenty human… and I’m not perfect,” he spat the word as if it burned his tongue, drawing a lovechild of a sob and a chuckle from your throat.

“Oh I know. You’re a stubborn reckless son of a bitch.”

And yet, you’re the best of us.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head, feeling like crying and laughing indeed as he chuckled, a breathy surprised sound.

This was the strangest fever dream. Were you and Steve really talking like this, so scarily open and unapologetic? Had you really just told him he was a stubborn and reckless SON OF A BITCH? If you had the courage and hadn’t you been in plenty of pain already, you’d pinch yourself to make sure it was still reality, as surreal as it felt.

“…I practically asked for that, didn’t I?” he noted self-deprecatingly and you could hear a faint smile in his voice, driving the corners of your lips up as well, the dangerous warmth in your chest rising again.

Warmth and the feeling that with a wall between you, with the note of humour in his voice, with his touch having been so gentle and careful, you could trust him and tell him what you thought without consequence.

Most definitely a fever dream, with your brain drunk on blood loss.

“Yeah, a little bit,” you said, unable to keep the smile from your voice too, despite your heart thundering in your chest.

That smile was quick to slip as something whispered in your head to continue, to share the thought that had your smile slip just as quickly. The mere idea of saying it, of indirectly revealing a huge tender area he could poke at if he pleased, made digging a bullet out of your leg look like a simple inconvenience – but he had to know. He had to realize; it was honestly baffling a man of his intelligence was absolutely blind to the powerful impact he had on others.

“The problem is… well, that other than that, you just might be less human than all Inhumans combined and that’s… that’s a really hard standard to meet, you know?” you whispered, almost soundlessly, unsure you truly wanted him to hear.

The response came much more swiftly and much more baffling that you had expected. If voices could frown, Steve’s was most definitely frowning.

“I think you’re meeting it pretty damn well.”

You snorted, humourless laugh gathering in your chest and threatening to burst out – you only contained it from the fear of the intense pain returning if you shook too much. But your hands rose on their own will, palms up; a mute gesture of confusion he couldn’t see.

“Since when? You projected here just now because I needed your help to do what I should be doing on my own. You nearly ripped me a new one when I was irresponsible and projected without a second thought to protect Natasha and Sam – which I don’t regret in the slightest, by the way – but that doesn’t exactly meet that standard either,” you added, words spilling without filter now that you opened the floodgates. “About two weeks ago, you literally shook me to snap me back because you thought I was going to pass out before I could do what needed to be done – and you were right. As always. You knew I couldn’t do it even before I did, so really, thanks for the attempt at compliment, but we both know not even you believe you could ever mean it.”

You were breathless as you finished; and the aftertaste of your words was bitter as truth often was.

You could scoff again. How could he mean it?

‘Meeting it pretty damn well.’

Right.

You weren’t that deep into your fever dream to believe that; to believe he believed that. As if meeting that standard was even possible by anyone but Steve Rogers himself.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. Your direct superior.

You gulped, panic seizing you as the small alarm in the back of your mind reminded you with urgency that you were still talking to your Captain, this was reality, and he could easily bench you and maybe, maybe listing all your shortcomings of the past weeks wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to keep your damn job.

“And I know that’s not alright, but I’m… I swear I’m trying to get better,” you added swiftly, lump growing in your throat as the silence that followed your words. “I can get better and I will!”

…Captain, Sir.

You only swallowed his rank and the sir because it felt like he’d think you were mocking him. Not that it mattered; because Steve remained quiet.

You could hear him breathe – without any real change, so you didn’t think the reason for his silence was loss of consciousness.

Which meant that the reason was the complete loss of the last remnants of respect he could have ever held for you.

It was selfish of you, but for a moment, you almost wishedhe had fallen unconscious somewhere during your monologue or at least entered some altered state of mind which would make him forget you had said anything at all, because then he wouldn’t have that muchreason to fire you, to send you back to Coulson like a faulty goods, demanding a refund.

You should have kept your stupid mouth shut.

You should have—he was going to fire you. He was going to take away the one thing you were remotely good, at, he was going to--- he was- fuck, fuck, fuck-

Finally, the sound of your name washed over you like a calming tide wave.

It didn’t sound condescending. It didn’t sound unkind, despite you having basically asked for the exact opposite by serving your failures on the silver platter. If anything, Steve’s voice seemed to waver, thick with an emotion you couldn’t quite understand.

“You are more than meeting the standard. You truly are,” he said again, sighing and for some reason, it sounded as if he was gathering strength to do… something. “But you’re wrong. I… the truth is that I knew I couldn’t do it.”

You sat up straighter, frowning; curious and absolutely dumbfounded – for many reasons.

One was obvious – you had no idea what he was referring to. Two – did he just… was that praise? He truly sounded as if he meant that you were somewhat good enough in his eyes. Since when? That was just too insane even as the past 24 hours were the very definition of insanity. And three – he was once again admitting to some sort of a shortcoming, which was surprising too to say at least.

And your voice reflected all that.

“Do what?”

He sighed again, his breath hitching, the smallest noise signalling pain escaping him, one you probably wouldn’t have heard hadn’t it been for your enhanced senses. You winced, guilt gnawing at your stomach again even as it was already tight with apprehension.

Do what?

“Watch you pass out again, knowing you got shot,” he whispered, effectively turning you into a statue, every muscle, including your heart, freezing. “I always try to plan so nobody gets shot. It’s my responsibility to ensure that no one gets hurt, let alone like that, and yes, sometimes that fails, but… that is the primary objective. To bring everyone home. And then you go and… I simply couldn’t take that again.”

You blinked, a strange feeling settling in your gut, one you couldn’t seem to grasp.

You felt like an idiot. You must have looked like one too, because you had no damn idea what the hell he was talking about.

You understood every individual word, you understood the sentences, but you… didn’t understand.

Worse, you did understand, but that understanding didn’t fit into the big picture, didn’t explain what that had to do with him making you snap back.

Irritation flared up in your gut as your brain raced and kept coming up empty of any coherent image of Steve Rogers. You had thought you had begun to understand better and better; and then his last words shattered the picture again, leaving you baffled.

And frankly, you despised being put into a position where you felt like less than a half-wit.

“…why? Does it really hurt your pride that much, that someone from your troops would disobey your order and mess with your perfect plan? So much that you throw the plan out of the window just to throw a fit? Just so no one gets hurt on Captain America’s precious watch?”

The moment you asked, you knew the questions were much sharper than he deserved, meaner and entirely unfair. You knew it was a lame defence mechanism clicking into place the moment it even remotely appeared that the sincerity in his voice was giving you just the last piece you needed to complete the absolute puzzle he was; because that was just not right, it couldn’t be. It never had been right.

‘I couldn’t watch you pass out again, knowing you got shot.’

He couldn’t be saying that. He shouldn’t be saying that. It made no damn sense. He couldn’t- that wasn’t--- yes, you had established he cared about bringing everyone home indeed, but that wasn’t--- it didn’t sound quite like what he was saying.

What was he saying?

Your body, your brain specifically, had rebooted, neurons firing all messy as you tried to make sense of this and was now coming up with either absurd explanations or none at all.

Steve’s laughter was both bitter and genuinely amused, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Sure, that too. But… it’s up to me to keep everyone safe. I need to do it. I want to keep everyone safe. Including you,” he added, almost softly and the shudder that ran down your spine was unlike anything you had ever felt.

It wasn’t… bad, not necessarily, not when you let it happen. It was the thrill of danger, the call of unknown, luring you in; and at the same time, something pulled at your heartstrings so violently you weren’t sure anymore whose chest hurt more. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs as you couldn’t take a deep breath all of sudden.

He really cared, didn’t he? He cared so damn profoundly for everyone under his command it was a wonder he got up from bed in the morning with such heavy responsibility on his mind. And somehow, that group of people he cared for included you.

He would have taken that bullet for you even if he hadn’t in his spectral form, wouldn’t he? Because that was the weight he had taken upon his shoulders, the weight of the world indeed, the weight he agreed to carry whenever he picked up his shield.

The symbolism of choosing that weapon – a weapon as much as a tool of protection – had never been lost on you, but it now appeared heavier and more tangible than ever.

You gulped, letting the new unbelievable piece of knowledge wash over you, another shiver brushing your body.

And still.

Even with all he said, even if you were crazy enough to believe him, it still made no damn sense that it would make him shake you awake and snap back over two weeks ago. And it didn’t explain why he kept putting himself into the position of your own personal guard dog so often whenever you were to project on a mission.

“I… okay.”

You were the farthest thing from okay, but that was beside the point.

It just made no damn sense.

“But that is what you do, always. I am safe. Even if I do get shot out there,” you said slowly, not sure if you were reminding that to yourself or him. “Even if I get beaten up to a pulp and keep going long enough to almost bleed out after that… it’s not real. The pain is, yes-” More than you’d ever know… or as you already know, you thought, swallowing against your dry throat.“And I do have to push through it hard to keep the spectre going, but--- that’s it. All that happens to the real me is losing consciousness and some serious exhaustion, Steve, it’s not-”

“Until it isn’t,” he interrupted you with urgency, causing your voice die out mid-sentence. “What if I fail? What if I fail to protect you, leave you there unconscious and vulnerable – your real body? What if one of those days your abilities act out? What if, one day, the injuries of your spectre transfer to your body, without prior warning? Look at us now. Nobody could have predicted this and yet here we are. Not to mention the pain you feel, passing out… that’s not nothing and we don’t even know the long-term consequences of that. So no, I--- I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let that happen to you again.”

‘I couldn’t let that happen to you again.’

The last words echoed through your skull in a bizarre echo, the room out of focus despite your gaze turned to the opposite wall and your frantic blinks.

It still didn’t make a lick of sense, none of the things he had said, words built on fruitless pondering about what-ifs – except it made the perfect sense.

Hadn’t you worried exactly about that just a few moments ago? When Steve had got shot right in front of your eyes – an image that would haunt you forever, you suspected – even if it had been just his projection?

Yes, you had much more reason to worry; the transition of the effects of the serum to you wasn’t complete either, since you hadn’t exactly grown several inches tall nor gained a hundred pounds of muscle, so it was reasonable at least to assume the transition of your powers to him hadn’t been complete either. But you could see what he meant: powers, no matter how useful, were a volatile thing. You had seen how difficult the beginnings with Daisy’s powers had been and how she was still discovering what she could do to this day, almost two years later. And she was someone whom you considered extremely capable with her abilities.

Was it truly so unfathomable that in his overbearing responsibility for his team, Steve would worry about things going awry with your powers, resulting in you being a lot more hurt than anticipated?

Something had grown in your throat, making it hard to speak, but you pushed the words out anyway, even as they had the strangest taste on your tongue.

“You… never told me it worries you. You never told me that it bothered you.”

You never told me that you cared, not only if I get hurt, but if I hurt. Never told me you cared. Not like this. Not… for me.

Even as your whole frame shook under the weight of the realization, your chest too full for you to breathe properly, gaze swimming in tears you had miraculously kept from your voice, it dawned to you how it all added up with him being the one guarding you.

He truly didn’t trust anyone else with it, but not because he was so full of himself.

With everything you knew about him, when you had gathered all the facts, it should have been clear in any moment when you hadn’t been at odds with him. It had just never clicked, not when it was you; apparently, to him, a part of the Avengers just like any other of the heroes he called friends. His team.

You were the newest addition. Your powers were ones of the most unpredictable and volatile, possibly more than the Hulk’s, even if less deadly.

He felt the responsibility in his bones. He wanted to make sure, personally, that you’d be okay, because that was what he did.

“No, I didn’t. Not without my concern shouted in harsh words instead of spoken in clear ones.”

You gulped, brushing over the slightly veiled apology. He had apologized enough; he had done his atonement a long time ago. Not to mention you hadn’t been exactly receptive to what he might have been trying to say besides clearly being disappointed in you, so there was he wasn’t the only one to blame.

There had been a lot happening under the surface; things you should have known that or at least guess, but you had refused to even consider there could have been anything written between the lines for the fear of revealing another deeper layer of perfection you could never even hope to reach yourself.

And for the fear of falling for him deeper.

Too late, wasn’t it?

Because there was no going back now, was it? Not with the memory of his soft touch. Not with the memory of him admitting he cared so profoundly, even if not in the way you foolishly dreamed of and dreaded all the same. Not with being a wall apart and yet finally allowing yourself to see him. Not with him letting you see him.

What was adding a little insult to the injury?

“You never told me how hard it is to control your strength either and… or how much it hurts to heal. Or how heavy your responsibility feels,” you said, not having the will to silence your mind.

You never even hinted there was so much more to you. You never shared that you feel like the rest of us, that you are so perfectly imperfect and human, just a speckle of fault that makes you all the better person; just like there’s but a speckle of green in your cerulean eyes that make them all the more beautiful.

Jesus you needed to get a grip before your loose tongue revealed even more of your unhinged train of thought. Maybe it was the time for that pinch to your forearm; to remind yourself you were very much in reality still; even as the ever-present breathy quality of Steve’s voice reminded you that he was in a very real pain, just like you.

“I didn’t think you needed to know. And it gets easier with time… most of the time anyway,” he added with a slightly humorous note before he grew serious again. And softer. “A far cry from keeping an astral body and controlling it, even when you’re in a lot of pain.”

It was but a hint, a dangerous hint to the great scary secret you harboured. You had been forced by circumstance before, to project while you still felt the aftermath of your spectral injuries by circumstance, since missions didn’t tend to wait until your imaginary yet painful wounds from previous projections healed. And yet; all Steve could have been talking about was simply getting hurt as a spectre and staying focused on keeping up the illusion anyway.

An illusion a bit like the one in his words; you doubted ‘it got easier’. You knew enough about what it was like to hurt. It didn’t get easier; it just became a routine to ignore it for the sake of something else. For others. For the job. For survival.

Just like it became easier to build impenetrable walls to protect what’s left, no matter how little the scraps were. Just like it became easier to let another of his compliments fly above your head, or at least to pretend it had, while it effortlessly climbed over the ruins of the very wall that had fallen when you and Steve ended up here and it touched you in your very soul.

“It gets easier with time,” you echoed his words with an absent smile, resting your cheek against the literal wall, almost as if the little turn of your head could offer you a glimpse of him. You wondered if he believed you that you meant it any more that you believed he meant what he was saying. “And I don’t know… it’s what you do that feels pretty impossible to me.”

You thought he shook his head; the quiet rustle of fabric and the note of something in his voice made it sound as if he had shaken his head.

“It was never my intention to make you feel like anything less than absolutely incredible,” he whispered sincerely, the grip he had taken on your heartstrings insistent, tugging again. “To make you think I believe you are anything less than that. What I actually believe is that you are that and more.”

You blacked out for a moment.

You must have blacked out, because when you came to, there was a static noise in your ears and burning in your eyes; your palm was laid over your ribcage, the feeling larger than life still swirling in your chest so hot and brutal you must have felt the need to make sure your body remained in one piece, unchanged.

However, the wavering rise and fall of your chest told you that hearing Steve say that, in the sweetly sincere voice and sounding as if it was simply another fact of life, had changed you fundamentally.

He truly cared for people, didn’t he? He cared and he believed in them, no matter how messed up they were. That was his true superpower and no stupid alien artifact could ever take that from him. And if the damn Kree couldn’t do that, if realizing he had lost everything good he had known when he woke up in the new millennium hadn’t done it, Hydra shouldn’t even hope to succeed.

They could develop the antiserum, they could strip him from whatever power Doctor Erskine had gifted him, but couldn’t take that. And that was the reason why even if you damn well died in here – and fuck did you not want to die – he would win. And they’d lose. Because they might eventually succeed in knocking Captain America down, but Steve Rogers would get back up and end them.

And damn, did he deserve better. He deserved the truth.

“I never meant to question your leadership either, Steve,” you responded in kind at last, trying your hardest to ignore the creaky quality of your voice. “I follow your orders, though sometimes with a few adjustments, for a reason. I… I would follow them if they led me through to hell because I know-- well, I know you’d send me there for a good reason. I just… couldn’t follow them that back in that base, because I knew better.”

“Because you were trying to protect me.”

He voiced your true motivation so effortlessly; and yet, his words were wrapped in such an agonizingly tender awe you nearly choked at the tone – and at your own laugh.

Because it was a laughable and unbelievable concept, wasn’t it? One little you trying your best, one little enhanced human thinking they could at least help to protect a demigod.

Worked well for you both, didn’t it?

“Well. Someone needs to try and protect our fearless reckless leader, right?”

“Right,” he echoed and you could hear a smile just as tender as before, so unlike the light self-deprecating note you had allowed to creep into your voice. “Can I… can I ask you something?”

You felt your eyebrows arch involuntarily, curious – grateful for the distraction from how unbearably full and warm yourheart seemed to be.

“Pretty sure we crossed that line, Steve. Shoot.”

You regretted the choice of words the moment they left your mouth, the beat of silence that followed awkward at best; and yet, a small snort escaped you before you could contain it.

“That’s really not fu-”

“No. No, it’s not,” you agreed quickly, even as the corners of your lips kept twitching for some reason. But could anyone blame you? It was a little funny. It was absurd how all of this felt like a bad joke… even the lovely parts, which were the most absurd of it all. “I’m sorry. I didn’t--- I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“You’d better,” he grumbled, but the scolding got lost somewhere in translation, because he sounded a little bit amused at least at your horrible choice of words.

You let the smile tugging so insistently at your lips win, feeling like Steve had done the same – at least before his voice fell quieter.

“But what I mean is… when we were fighting, when I was--- yelling at you, and you mentioned pain.”

Your smile froze in an instant, your eyes slipping shut, the feeling of your thundering heartbeat consuming you. There was no doubt where this was going; frankly, you were shocked it took him so long to call you out.

He must have been hurting this whole time, even as the only indication he had given you was his heavier breathing due to the pain in his chest.

“You… curled up, recoiled,” he continued, slow and hesitant – everything your heartbeat was not. “As if you could still feel it. It wasn’t the first time it happened either and it’s been on my mind for a while. Does it--- I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about it, I do realize I have no right to ask, not really. I-”

“To ask what exactly?” you interrupted him in a small choked voice, even if you knew all too well what information he was interested in.

It was funny though.

‘It wasn’t for the first time it happened either.’

‘It’s been on my mind for a while.’

There was no way you could confirm what he was saying, but he had no reason to lie. You weren’t sure Steve Rogers was capable of lying, or at least being capable of being good at it. You had no prove but you felt it in your bones that he was telling the truth, tiptoeing around the uncomfortable question awkwardly as if he had been there before indeed. As if he had wanted to ask before.

He had noticed.

Of course he had fucking noticed, who had you been kidding. He was too observant for his own good; and too respectful to ask before. Perhaps he had thought the pain was simply something that had passed in a few minutes – you had been careful to hide it – and thus he had thought it was not his place to pry.

‘I do realize I have no right to ask.’

Except he had every right. As your superior who needed to know your condition to plan missions accordingly – even as you pushed hard enough not to let it affect your results in the field – and as someone who was experiencing the pain no one had warned him about right now.

You didn’t know whether you should burst out laughing or silently weep, the two tendencies pulling you in different direction so skilfully you ended up doing neither, giving Steve the opportunity to ask his question.

“To ask how much of that pain you remember when you snap back. How much of it… you feel after.”

You let your eyes slip shut, your stomach somersaulting despite knowing it was coming.

You could lie. You could tell him it was but a brief temporary side effect which would pass. You could deny you felt anything at all, leaving him thinking it was something he was experiencing due to the questionable power switch between you. The former could come bite you in the ass if you wouldn’t be able to reverse the artifact’s effect eventually; that was, if you’d live long enough to even try. The latter would mean leave Steve thinking he was the problem, the pain not being a universal part of the glorified power you had, only some shortcoming on his side.

Neither of the options seemed fair – in fact, the latter felt downright nasty, sending bile up your throat.

Steve had been doing everything in his power, quite literally, to ease your suffering. He had done justice to the golden part of his mocking moniker and had been nothing short of a good man, offering compassion, kindness and honesty. As much as any kind of lie would make your life easier, you didn’t think you’d be able to look yourself in the eye in a mirror. Steve deserved better than a lie or even a half-truth.

Sharing that burden with him now didn’t seem as scary as it had before either. He was only human too; he was the one person who would, given his past, knew that feeling pain didn’t mean one was completely helpless or useless.

Not to mention that chances indeed were you weren’t going to make it out of here. The least he’d deserve was to know the truth; and to know he wasn’t weak or messed up to feel the pain still. That, or you were both messed up.

The silence stretched as you took a deep breath, gathering courage. While sharing the burden whispered of relief, you weren’t a complete idiot. You had no doubt that Steve was going be less than thrilled to learn you had been hiding this from him. Dread pooed in your stomach as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest, but at last, you forced the words out with a sigh.

“…all of it. I… if it’s something big, I can still feel it even days after, gradually fading away. A bit faster than an actual wound would take to heal by my estimate, but… yeah.”

Dead quiet.

If the silence before had stretched, the quiet that followed this was endless. And deafening, even with Steve’s still ragged breathing.

“So it’s not just me now. It never switches off when you snap back,” he more stated than asked, suddenly sounding at highest alert. And stunned.

You could hear it in his voice, bubbling just under the surface of a matter-of-fact voice, gasoline waiting for a lit match. The anger – and a whole set of emotions you hadn’t dared to guess – he was holding back was almost palpable, even over the wall. There was no going back from your admission; but the safe way was to carefully choose your next words, as to minimize the damage.

And yet.

Maybe you had a death wish. Maybe you were a bit too reckless – that had to be the reason why the words you chose were precisely those, throwing back his assumptions even if with without malice, but with a tiny shrill of satisfaction.

“No. Contrary to the popular belief, it doesn’t.”

A beat of silence; the lit match nearing the gasoline, almost as if in slow motion, anticipation of a catastrophe to sweep the world.

Then, the explosion; a lick of fire on your cheek even if the only thing that happened was Steve tugging violently on his chains as if he wanted to hit anything in reach and a frustrated noise that sounded almost like a growl, causing you to wince and squeeze your eyes shut tighter.

“Goddammnit Spectre! Why wouldn’t you-"

Steve cut himself of mid-sentence, a deep breath of his reaching your ears, even as taking it must have hurt like hell with his spectral wound. And then another. A low noise full of something you couldn’t quite decipher.

But when Steve spoke again, it was on normal volume, perhaps even lower. “How many times have you… why would you-- I’m sorry. It never--- it never even occurred to me. It should have. And I’m sorry.”

Your eyes had snapped open at the first sorry; at the other, you were blinking uselessly, mind having come to a screeching halt as if his reaction had pulled at some sort of a figurative emergency break.

Except everything in your now screamed there was an emergency.

You understood nothing. Not anymore. Not how his anger could have given way to some sort of guilt.

Guilt? How could he have felt guilty?

Everything in your insisted it was wrong, so so wrong, the world not making any sense again. Except just as fast as the shock had overtaken you, soft understanding pushed it away in an annoyingly gentle manner that made a lump grow in your throat.

“You couldn’t have known,” your caught yourself whispering, a tug at your insides insistent as the realization started to take root; Steve felt responsible.

He felt responsible for your choices.

It was absurd. It was stupid. You had taken him for a noble jerk, but not a martyr – not this kind of martyr anyway. Not an idiot.

“I could have asked. But I assumed instead. I’m truly sorry,” he repeated, causing you to blink again, realization dawning to you anew, this time much more logical. That… he had a point in that. That was exactly what you had threw back at him earlier. He was quick to catch on; you less so. You were beginning to understand that despite the intriguing, terrifying and liberating conversation, your brain was registering your blood loss more and more by the minute. It had to be if it was so slow. “I’m sorry not only that it’s happening but for not being understanding of it.”

The thing was, you weren’t sure you’d tell him even if he had asked.

Scratch that. You knew that you wouldn’t.

“It’s okay. Apology accepted, Steve,” you echoed your words from the auction, a brief smile passing your lips as you did so. Your face had grown damp with tears again, you realized distantly; released pressure, dark secret coming to light. Relief.

He hadn’t yelled at you – not really. And he knewnow. You almost wanted to laugh. He knew.

His guilt was misplaced however, you we aware as much; he shouldn’t have to ask. Such thing was expected to be listed on file. Except you had made sure that it wouldn’t when erasing Andy’s records of your sessions.

The sudden urge to sooth Steve, feeling a physical manifestation of how he was beating himself over the fact he had made a half-wrong guess where he shouldn’t have, the burden on his shoulders having now grown another ton heavier as a consequence, slammed into your weary bones.

“It’s okay, Steve. I was hiding it. You simply couldn’t have known.”

“But why? Why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded, urgency bleeding over his shock, his investigative Captain mode activated again. Hadn’t it been that he was asking uncomfortable questions, you’d smile at the change. The man with a plan. A man of action and analytic mind. Steve Rogers, ladies and gentlemen. “You never took breaks after you got hurt. Not as Spectre anyway. If… if the pain lingers… if there is nothing that can to be done about that once it happens, why wouldn’t you let us know you needed time to heal?”

Because you’d take away the only thing I can cling to, your mind but breathed out weakly, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks, hands flexing into fists, brief panic seizing your throat at the mere idea of thathappening. You’d take away the only thing I can do with my life. The only thing I know how to do.

You couldn’t tell him that. You had whispered too many secrets over this wall already, the majority of your defences down. But not this one. This one you had to keep in order to keep your sanity, to keep your place.

You were still an agent. There was no more place for whining; god knew you had already whined for enough to run out of a limit for years and years to come.

But you could still tell the truth. You should. Steve deserved nothing less; but you deserved to have some dignity left dammit. You scrambled to gather the last remnants of your pitiful shield and put it up, along with scraps of rationality.

“I’m an agent – I need to be able to handle pain, more than most. And I can,” you said firmly, ignoring the pull at your muscles as if your wounds wanted to confirm your words; or disprove them “Pain is a part of our life every day.”

“… it really shouldn’t be. Definitely not like this,” Steve protested, voice sounding a little weaker than before. You couldn’t tell whether it had anything to do with his physical state or whether he was simply struggling to protest when he actually agreed with you.

Pain was an undeniable and inevitable part of life; for some people more than others. He should know, shouldn’t he?

A hundred-pound asthmatic with a list of illnesses longer than your resumé in what probably felt like his past life; now, a proud sturdy shield taking punches and bullets left and right to protect others.

He’d know all about pain; back then and now. It suddenly barely made any sense that you had ever kept this from him if you looked at it from this angle. Then again, that was Steve Rogers.

Your life would be a lot easier if Steve Rogers and Captain America – your boss – were two separate people. But they weren’t. Looking back, you truly hated it as much as you loved it, every single day.

With a bittersweet smile on your lips, you wiped at your cheeks.

“I suppose it shouldn’t, but we don’t get to choose. You of all people should know that. You used to live it. You’re Captain America – you still live it.”

He a took a deep breath, sounding outraged and defeated at once – because you were right.

“True, but-“

“But nothing,” you interrupted him, indignant to make him understand. Without revealing too much. He was a smart cookie – he didn’t need all the information. “I have to handle it and I do. Thousands of people handle pain every day. What I have is no different from other chronic conditions, except it is. I have an advantage. Because to a large point, I can prevent it. Unlike other chronic pain, mine is simply an occupational hazard that occurs if I mess up as a spectre. And my occupational hazard is way kinder than any other agent’s, because when other agents get shot, they bleed. They die when they bleed out. I pass out. So really. I’m the lucky one.”

You expected it would shut him up; you expected him to ponder over your words.

You were wrong. Again.

“That is debatable,” he threw back in an instant, though not unkindly. A gentle reprimand rather than a challenge to argue. “And you can still bleed. And it doesn’t answer my question, not entirely at least.”

“I know,” was all you said.

You’d let him pick to which of his words it applied to. It applied to all of them.

“…I’m not… ordering you to answer it,” he continued softly, voice quieter again. “I understand you can have plenty reason to keep it to yourself, I just… I want to understand so we can adjust your schedule to accommodate your needs. You already give more than enough. This… this is beyond anyone could ask of you.”

You smiled bitterly, for once able to stop fresh tears from spilling even as his words struck you straight into your heart.

Of course he would think that. Of course he would want to do that.

Stupid big-hearted hypocritical dumbass.

And what about what we ask from you? What about you ask from yourself? you wanted to retort, but swallowed your rhetorical questions you already had an answer to, opting for a tired smile instead.

“That’s not necessary, Steve. I’m fine.”

Most of the time. And when I’m not fine, I have to be anyway.

He repeated your name, somehow sounding both compassionate and pissed beyond belief; patient and insistent.

“Why?”

You almost, almost grinned, recalling Simmons’ words with stunning clarity, the words etched into your brain and bones, her British accent included.

An absolute marvel. You… you are a marvel.

And who wouldn’t want to be that? Even if for a while? Who wouldn’t swallow their pain, their cries, their blood?

A marvel.

It was embarrassing almost, to cling to it like that, you knew that.

And yet. Something about Steve’s voice, the gentle insistence, the genuine desire to simply understand you, pushed you to tell the truth. He’d understand. You had kept telling yourself he wouldn’t, because he had always put on this brave invincible face – or maybe you had believed he did, to make him even more unreachable – but the truth was that he truly was the one person who could understand all too well.

“I can’t afford to have a weakness. Not another one.”

I can’t show any weakness was written between the lines and you had a feeling Steve read just as easily as if it was written explicitly in all capital letters in your blood instead of in ink.

“You’re only human too,” he whispered, so damn quiet and as tender as his hands had been. “You’re allowed to be human. It’s no different than Bucky having a prosthetic, than people taking time off to heal and then rehabilitate after a physical injury to their non-astral body. We would never allow you back to field if-”

“I can handle it!” you exploded at once, a raging fire licking at your veins the second he implied you were unable to do your job properly, the job you had trained for your whole life, since you were a damn child, you were just fine, dammit! “I’m not a charity case, I don’t need any special treatment! I’m nothing less than-“

“But you don’t have to handle it, that’s my point!” he snapped in response to your shout. The authority and conviction his voice held, even on normal volume, had you shut up in immediately. And listen. “And it doesn’t make you less of an agent to be treated accordingly to your condition! I didn’t mean to say that we wouldn’t let you into the field because you’re weak, because I know you’re everything but that – but we wouldn’t let someone with a healing gunshot wound into the field either. All I’m saying is that if we knew, you wouldn’t have to suffer. You’re a person first, an asset to the team next. No one would think any less of you. You deserve to rest, you deserve having your needs met, you deserve to be treated like a damn human being!”

A sharp inhale and exhale; a brief moment to process what he said while he gathered strength to speak again. A brief moment for you to gather the pieces of the world he had shattered for you.

In that moment, a strange feeling of peace washed over you, one you imagined one might find in an apocalyptic world, a place when all that had been known was ruin and fleeting wistful pleasures, when the sun came of for the first time in centuries; so peculiar, incomprehensible and untouchable. But warm. And beautiful.

“Why--- why wouldn’t you--- don’t you-?”

“Not where I come from,” you whispered, smiling tight and bitter through the tears even as Steve couldn’t see you.

The metaphorical sight of that sun was beautiful and you basked in it. But it was as gorgeous as hurtful; tied to the knowledge it would not last.

A pregnant pause followed your words and you knew. You knew you had said too much. Shared way too many things that no one but your therapist should know – and that was already one person too many and she was aware of considerably less.

And then, creeping horror. Steve was quiet – for too long. Deadly quiet too – couldn’t hear his breathing.

Panic hit you like a ton of bricks all over again, digging into your heart with sharp nails, deeper than before with a profound knowledge of the universal truth.

This was how it went, didn’t it? You opened up to someone too much, you told them about your pain, about your most pitiful secret and they showed understanding and compassion – and then they died. One of the great reasons why you had kept it secret, why you had insisted on being in the field so much; if you weren’t there, if you weren’t doing what you were meant to do, people died. They would too if anyone learned and you got benched for your comfort.

Death followed your potential confession in so many ways. You knew that, always had, so why had you been so stupid again to-

You should have never told anyone. Especially not Steve.

“Steve?! Are you-“

“You deserve nothing less than having your needs respected and met,” he said slowly, every syllable carefully measured, unshakable despite the shaky breath he had finally released and you could kill him, your heart thundering in your chest at the brutal scare he had given you and his words alike. “You deserve better than that. You always have. And you are sure as hell going to get that when you’re with us.”

With me, said the steel in his voice.

The shudder running through you had nothing to do with cold, your breathing shallow and quick, something in his voice, something untouchable and so perfectly tangible and the realest thing you had ever touched, forcing you to listen and accept, and accept willingly, because what he said was nothing but the very essence of kind.

This was who he was. Righteous and fair. A vessel for violence to be unleashed, if necessary, but an infinitely kind man. It had nothing to do with you – he would do that for anyone, you were more than aware, because care was in the very core of Steve Rogers; but to have it aimed at you still felt like the warmest hug you had never known, one you got without working hard for it, without deserving it first for once.

It felt like Steve’s large hands gently cradled your heart, fingertips running over the cracks mended with concrete, smoothening the rough edges. It was terrifying because one second of his superhumanly strong grip and the hasty repairs would crack irreparably; but it came with a soft thrill and warm waterfalls of tears running down your cheeks instead, because every tender stroke whispered there was not the tiniest need for caution. Not if these were his hands.

Was it strange to still see them as impossibly strong even if you now carried the supersoldier abilities yourself?

He was waiting, patiently so, you could tell as much – but he expected a reaction. Of any kind. A scream, a scoff, a whisper. A protest or a confirmation, a vague hm. Anything.

What he received was a creaky voice and a bargain, a whisper sounding so shallow in comparison of how terribly profoundlyhis words touched you and rearranged your soul.

“I’ll remember that if we make it out, hm? But only if you take your own advice and allow yourself to be a human too.”

“Sounds only fair,” he whispered warmly. “Deal, Spectre.”

‘Deal, Spectre.’ Just like that. As if you two hadn’t just agreed to try to fundamentally change., but agreed what time the next training session would start.

But the lightness was deceiving; you were both all too aware. But what was a little promise when you had no idea how long you’d live, right?

“Deal, Cap. …but don’t you fucking scare me like that. Don’t you dare to stop talking to me or to close your eyes,” you said sharply and damn, you meant it. Hadn’t you had bigger thing to process, you’d smack the wall and imagined it was him.

Holding him damn breath, was he trying to kill you?

“Sorry. But one of the strongest people I know told me it doesn’t work like that. No amount of talking keeps someone awake.”

You gulped even as the corners of your lips twitched a bit as his sassy response – bless his observation that after dealing with such heavy matters, humour was the most welcomed reprieve. You wanted your reply to reek of snark, but probably failed. Because damn him, you were still too deep into processing what had just happened and he was not sparing a single opportunity to compliment you – the feeling it elicited inside you was foreign and difficult to contain.

“Sounds like a smart girl. But she fails to take into account that hearing a voice might not keep a person awake, but can be just… nice,” you said, not fighting the softness that crept into your voice anymore. “So unless the other person is being an ass… it can feel really good to hear their voice.”

It was too intimate to say that, scarily so; but the warmth that enveloped you when you heard his response was worth it, you thought.

“I like hearing your voice too.”

One of the important things agents were taught at the SHIELD academy was keeping track of time when there was virtually no way to do so; no watch, no phone, no indication of a day or a night. How to keep your head straight, when deprived of one of the basic stimuli – daylight. No training done purely in kid gloves ever worked, so this, being held captive in a room without windows, was how you practised.

And yet; you had no idea how long you had been in captivity. It was a fact that no training could have prepared you for everything – like getting shot twice, having your friend (colleague, Steve was colleague, a superior) shot in front of you, having your powers exchanged – but that made it no less frustrating to not being able to tell how long it had been.

You had a few indications, sure; there was only so many hours one could survive without water, but all that your parched throat, dizziness and occasional zoning out told you, was that it hadn’t been three days – because you were still alive. The water bottle the asshole who had shot Steve had thrown in was staring at you mockingly, your fingers twitching at weak moments of pondering whether you should simply give in; but since you could resist so far, you knew it couldn’t have been that long. Given the blood loss and the fact you hadn’t passed out, your rough estimate was that it had been a few hours.

But god, were they endless.

At least you had good company still; Steve’s soft check-in reached your ears again, a ghost of an exhausted smile passing over your lips.

“What was your favourite class at the academy?” he asked then, causing you to chuckle self-deprecatingly.

It was selfish. Self-centred. But it was the truth – but could anyone really blame a person for liking doing what they were good at?

“Gymnastics. I… I had a head start,” you admitted reluctantly, Steve’s voice warm as he hummed in response.

“That’s fair. It does sounds like you’re underselling though.”

Your smile widened, a small spark of a giddy feeling that was most definitely not supposed to arise in your chest flickering to life.

“What did you like the best back at the camp?”

“Hand to hand,” he replied simply, the smile in his voice puzzling you as much as his answer. You had purposely asked about the camp, thinking he might… tell you about what it was like before the serum. It was naïve, you berated yourself; this was nothing but small talk to kill time, while Steve no doubt kept working on any possible solutions to your shitty predicament. You were an idiot to think- “That is after I was shown that size and strength don’t always matter. That I could still win if I worked hard to improve my skills. And had a bit of smarts.”

Your shoulders sagged, the warmth in your chest spreading again. He was being honest. Open. And the vague image of a small guy kicking arse due to his brains and determination alone was most endearing and powerful. And you had it now to keep; because Steve had shared it with you.

While this was just a conversation to kill time while your hazy brain too vainly tried to come up with a way out of this mess, it was more than you had ever talked. More than you would ever talk in the future, probably. If you lived long enough for the future lasted for longer than another few hours.

You had right to feel like weeping, you thought briefly, to feel like someone had reached for the rug under your feet and tugged, causing you to hit the floor hard; but you had no right to feel an unfamiliarly powerful tug of longing for things that wouldn’t come. And yet you felt it anyway.

You were more than ready for this whole insanity of Hydra captivity to end – one way or the other. And yet, there was an unfairly large part of you, circling around your heart, that wished some things to linger. The delicate bond you and Steve had threaded together over the past few hours was precious beyond anything, as palpable as the wall between you.

Precious things never lasted.

And you already missed it.

You should never get attached, it was the number one rule, but you were the troublemaker sometimes, weren’t you?

When you spoke again, you hoped the sudden acute dullness in your ribcage couldn’t be heard in your voice.

“That’s fair,” you echoed his words, a brief intangible image of his smile flashing in front of your eyes.

He had to be smiling, right? It seemed-

Your heart leaped into your throat, back straightening as the sound of multiple footsteps coming from behind your door reached your momentarily enhanced ears despite the ever-present low whooshing of blood in your temples.

“Steve-“ you whispered tightly, and that was how far you got before the lock was rattling and people started flowing into your cell. People, plural.

A man in an obnoxiously luxury suit. A three-man army with confidence of men with enough firepower to have a back-up weapon of a back-up weapon, Mr. Hydra Douche With A Twitchy Finger included. A man with a briefcase, in a telling white lab coat.

Instinctively, before you could think better of it, you scooted closer to the wall, instantly regretting it as a jolt of pain shot up your aching legs – and as a ghost a smile passed over the Mr. Hydra Douche’s otherwise blank face.

You swore that if you got your hands on him-

“Morning, Agent. Or should I say afternoon? How are we doing?” the man in the suit – clearly the Head Douche – asked with feigned politeness and had your gaze not moved back towards the doctor, you would have felt like spitting on him just for that. But it had.

And you recognized the man in white. You had seen him before, you were sure of it, despite the light fog wrapping around your brain tighter with every passing second of your heart racing.

You had met him at the Tower, you had no doubt about that and the fact alone caused goosebumps to rise on your arms, your stomach somersaulting.

You didn’t know his name; if someone asked about him, you probably wouldn’t have been able to describe him. He wasn’t any kind of conspicuous, yet he was here. He wasn’t memorable –then again, that was the point of undercover, wasn’t it? That was the mission of double-faced assholes. Be bright enough to get hired to the Avengers Initiative; be the right amount of ordinary to fit among all the extraordinary minds of the scientific department as to not stand out.

If you had enough strength to stand up, you’d punch his fucking teeth out.

“You fucking son of a bitch,” was what you settled for, earning a half-smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Rich, coming from the daughter of the ultimate All Work No Play Bitch,” he replied calmly, the vindictive tone like a slap to your face, causing you to recoil further.

That, and the mention of your mother.

You did not disagree with his assessment, you supposed; but she was your mother. Was she with them? Was she not – and had the hurt her?

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of either of those being true. It shouldn’t have – you didn’t care, you shouldn’t care, not anymore, god knew she certainly didn’t – but it sent a violent shiver down your spine anyway. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to supress the tremble.

Fuck him. Fucking fuck Hydra as a whole.

“Now, now, no need to call anyone names…” Mr. Head Douche said, even as he seemed rather amused by your exchange. “We have more important matters at hand. Doctor Barret?”

A low voice sharp enough to cut steel spoke before the doctor could take a single step in your direction, causing your heart to skip a startled beat even as it spoke in your favour; even as it was Steve.

“Leave her alone.”

The suited man briefly looked as if behind you, a supposedly pleasant smile on his lips that came out as a sleazy one, condescending. It made your hair stand on its end. Then again, this whole room, this whole situation had done good enough job of that already.

“Patience, Captain. We will deal with you in a minute. No need to be jealous about your inferior getting the bigger company.”

Your gaze snapped up, alarm bells ringing for two reasons.

Steve wasn’t alone either.

And you were the one to get the welcoming wagon.

Why? Why you first?

You weren’t a complete idiot; Steve was the more valuable one in terms of intel and strategy. He was the one with supersoldier serum they had been trying to neutralize, even as now they could probably poke both of you like lab rats and get some ‘intriguing’ results for sure.

So why you?

Saving the best for the last? Did they think you were weaker, that you’d crack more easily? Did it have anything to do with you being Inhuman? Did it have anything to do with you being the one, momentarily, in whom the serum effects were manifested? Why-

When the man met your gaze again, calculating, it felt like an icy liquid injected straight into your veins, realization slamming into you with full force along with your panic skyrocketing.

You were the leverage.

They could probe you all the wanted, they could punch and kick and cut, and they would torture Steve – because they knew enough to realize he would not want it on his conscience, not him of all people, not after they had watched you interact – and they wouldn’t have to as much as touch their more valuable prisoner.

Your gaze involuntarily flickered towards the briefcase in Barret’s hand as he stepped closer to you, your chest suddenly too tight to breathe in.

Don’t let them see. Don’t let them see that you’re scared.

You weren’t naïve enough to think you managed to hold face despite the anxious chant in your head.

The boss beckoned wordlessly to two of his brainless henchmen as Barret set the briefcase down, opening it with the lid towards you, obscuring whatever was in from your vision; but it wasn’t necessary.

You were too busy gulping and measuring the two men who approached you and stood each by your side in a blink of an eye, large greedy hands already reaching out.

“Don’t touch me-“ you blurted out, hands curling into fists in an instant to ready yourself to what would probably be a pathetic fight but still a fight.

They gripped your biceps in a vice and pulled you up to your feet before your weary sweat-soaked body could take a single swing at them, holding you upright with your feet barely touching the ground.

And then one of them kicked the back of your knees the same moment they dropped you low enough to force you stand, sending you instantly to the ground due to the weakness in your legs, their hands but a thin rope keeping you from falling face-down on the floor.

The majority on your weight landed on your knees. The rest was held up by your thighs.

Your agonized cry got drowned in the blinding pain seizing your body, tears springing from your eyes as you felt like you were going to be torn from inside out.

An agonizing déjà-vu; except now you had no strength left to keep your pain for yourself.

It hurt. Goddamn fucking Jesus, it hurt, pain consuming all your senses, only leaving space for vague awareness of the dull sounds of Steve’s protests and loud cries of metal as he vainly fought his bound again.

Bless his soul, he was not about to give up even when it was clear there was no other option but that left.

You wished you were that strong.

As you hungrily gasped for air, Steve’s efforts having fallen silent upon a promise of catching another bullet, you blinked your eyes open. Vision blurry with tears, you noticed the doctor had put on thick lab gloves – and was now holding a part of the Kree artifact.

Of fucking course.

Through the white-hot pain still gripping at your brain, your felt a tiny part of you sigh in relief. You supposed it could be worse than being about to get exposed to the effects of the artifact; then again, at least knives and needles were predictable enough. You had no idea what this thing would do now. Send the powers back to their rightful owner? Pass them on? Or take them altogether, somehow absorbing them?

“Fantastic, fascinating thing, isn’t it? We knew the item would be valuable as soon as it appeared on the auction list, but to have such unforeseen properties… had we known, we could have saved ourselves a lot of work,” the boss pondered out loud, tilting his head to side a bit when you grinded your teeth and tried to meet his insane eyes even as your head was spinning and it was hard to focus on anything.

“What work?” you hissed, biting your tongue hard when one of the asshole henchmen tugged at your arm a bit, sending a fresh wave of undiluted agony through your wounds.

You didn’t know where you found the will to ask. You doubted he’d take the bait. But if you were about to pass out from pain and blood loss alike, you might as well be useful to Steve and whoever was hopefully coming to the rescue – and collect your body – eventually.

“That might be the oldest trick in the book, Agent. Tempting the supposed villain to reveal his plans… but frankly, I think you should know, if for nothing than for appreciating my genius,” he boasted, so smug and proud of himself you wanted to tell him to bite you.

But knowing Hydra were goddamn lunatics, you didn’t, because he might do exactly that – and you were not interested.

God, your head was spinning. You were sure that one rapid movement and you’d throw up.

“By all fucking means.”

He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Fuck him.

“…cute. You see, you wouldn’t believe how troublesome you can be, Agent,” he said, causing your breath to catch in your throat and your thready thoughts to scatter. Huh? “We really counted on all of you to be much more capable, but in the end, forgive me, you especially turned out to be a real pain in the ass. A real disappointment.”

It was absurd – the most absurd thing of all, you supposed, despite the past hours being a complete funhouse – but being called a disappointment, by a Hydra lunatic, felt like a blow to your solar plexus, shame filling every ounce of your being for a moment.

How utterly useless a person had to be for a Hydra lowlife to find you disappointing, for whichever reason he was cryptically referring to? It truly felt like you hit a new low.

And yet. A defiant smirk somehow found a way to your lips, however weak, a little piece of pride at having made their lives complicated, even if unwittingly.

“My pleasure,” you said, pointedly ignored.

“The data was right there. You had them in your grasp and then you failed to deliver them to your base of operation. Doctor Banner’s and his team’s contributions to our uncomplete attempts to develop the antiserum would have been invaluable.”

…what?

“I mean, their motives for researching the scraps we left behind would obviously be of the purest nature, retracing the ‘big bad Hydra’s’ steps, developing the very antiserum we were working on themselves in order to find an antidote to it, believing we already had the substance in possession. And we’d have it delivered, a sample and a formula, developed and perfected by them. It was brilliant. They could have done all the work, found the solution we needed. But no. The data was planted for you team to find, the perfect bait… and you had to go and muck it up, didn’t you, Agent Spectre?”

Blank.

Your mind turned blank.

Your jaw had fallen slack, ears filling with a strange static noise growing louder and louder with every word he said. And yet you could hear him perfectly clearly, hear him paint an image so bizarre you would have had trouble comprehending it had you been entirely healthy, let alone when missing around two pints of blood.

The reality he described felt everything but real – but it made sense. Despite the plan being absolutely insane, it made sense. And you had to give it to him, it indeed was irritatingly brilliant.

But at the sae time, you could have laughed at the irony, downright wheeze at the cosmic sense of humour.

The data. They had planted the data which you had felt so desperately useless for having lost, the ones you and Steve had fought about.

The blankness of your mind was replaced by a rapid fire of thoughts, even as they seemed to come too slow as seconds ticked by and you were holding your breath in anticipation of his laughter, anticipation of his revealing he was just pulling your leg for laughs, a confirmation you had somehow misunderstood, .

But it didn’t come.

Because it was the truth.

You had messed up, but in a different way than you thought. Not by failing to deliver the drive. They had wanted you to find the files and deliver them; and you had taken the bait like a stupid goose, your instinct to protect the team, Steve in particular, flaring up.

Failing to deliver the flash drive had actually been a good thing. Because otherwise you would have helped Hydra to have the scientists with the AI do Hydra’s work for them instead of just offering vague scraps which doctor Banner and others could barely work with.

Screw exchanging powers, screw the existence of an artifact that caused the switch; THIS was a large mindfuck you weren’t sure you could ever wrap your head around.

Your failure had meant Hydra’s failure. And Steve, precious annoying Steve, having snapped you back before you could have delivered the intel, had actually been a hindrance in Hydra’s evil plans as well. He had been angry with you for taking a risk, he had cared, and so he had broken your concentration for it and you had thought that it meant he thus put himself at risk – but in fact, he had unwittingly got himself further from getting caught in Hydra’s bullshit.

You were stunned.

And rendered entirely speechless with both awe and absolute horror.

“Is that your impressed face, Agent? I can’t quite tell with all the panting for air and smudged black-tie worthy make-up,” the boss hummed mockingly.

You kept absently staring at the Hydra pin on the lapel of his suit, your mind still racing and trying to fathom the things that could have happened and hadn’t.

Hydra didn’t have an antiserum. They had wanted the AI to figure out what they couldn’t. They wanted to hurt Steve in a most effective and most painful way possible, no doubt. And you could have delivered that opportunity to them on a silver platter. You had almost assisted to Steve getting hurt, even more than he was now.

The idea made your ribcage feel tighter.

Fresh panic filled it instead of air when you realized that Steve was quiet, again. He had been quiet for a while now.

Why was he quiet?

You strained your ears despite the loud frantic thump-thump-thump of your own heart echoing in your head, slightly relieved you could still hear his ragged breaths.

“Well, that plan is obviously in the past now. We have something much more effective – a way to take all your powers, hopefully, and maybe even replicate them. Bless the Kree.”

Fuck the Kree, was your thought, but you bit your tongue.

Only when Doctor Barret took the other part of his artifact in his hand as well and rose to his feet, eyes unmistakably set on you, you realized how terrifyingly still everything and everyone had been. Almost robotic. Perfectly obedient; perfectly compliant with Hydra Head Douche’s wishes.

Had he made them comply? The brainwashing program? Was that what awaited you after?

Barret barely took a single step towards you. You immediately tried to move backwards, meeting the unrelenting resistance of the men who held you instead.

The only thing you managed was causing yourself more pain, the grip on your arms growing strong enough to bruise.

“Well, we’re nothing if flexible,” the Head Douche hummed, shrugging almost jovially as the other Trigger-Happy Hydra Douche stepped closer to you as well. “You see, it looks like now we have two supersoldiers now and that changes the game completely too. Generations of scientists thought replicating the serum’s effects was impossible – Doctor Banner being one of the few who live to tell the tale, but your DNA is… vastly different to the Captain’s and yet. You carry his abilities now – and he carries yours, without your bodies visibly changing. I wonder… if we start probing you, we could have a whole new set of data on how to synthetise it...”

You gulped. You had worried about them reviving Daniel Whitehall’s program of brainwashing people to make anyone do Hydra’s bidding; but the mention of the doctor’s other favourite pastime had a shiver ran down your spine.

You hear a soft rattle of chains and you knew Steve was fighting hard to do anything – and then there was quiet again, sharp one at that. Your heart hammered against your chest. Did he pass out now?!

Steven Grant Rogers, you open your eyes right fucking now or so help me god-

“And we can actually have Captain Rogers’ samples, even if tainted by your own… mutation? There are so many questions to be answered. I wonder… if I simply take this, and have you touch the other part, will that make me a supersoldier, just like that? A game of hot potato, so to speak? Is it that simple? To think we went through all that trouble and all we needed was a piece of an alien rock… or is it genetics too? How can we only find out, huh?”

You just glared, forcing your muscles to stop the tremble the man’s words fought to leave in their wake.

Somehow, the fact theydidn’t have a single idea what would be their next best step was so much worse than the opposite, bile rising in the back of your throat and burning.

They’d do anything to get their answers. They’d do everything.

And you were alone.

“Our brightest minds have been analysing this extraordinary piece of work for the past hours and came up with nothing conclusive, nothing that would tell us what will happen…” he said, eyeing you thoughtfully, beckoning to the Trigger-Happy Douche, who put on a single glove himself, taking one part of the artifact from the doctor without his skin making contact. There was no glow to the metal yet; neither of these men were Inhuman, apparently. Then again… were you? Still? “So we must resort to the old-fashioned trial and error, it appears. I wonder if the transfer will be complete… if we take that power from you right now, before you can heal, will it be lights out for you, darling?”

Your heart seized in your chest, the rest of your body outside your control; you attempted to tug yourself free despite the roar of pain it caused, not moving an inch.

That was one option you hadn’t considered yet. If it was this simple, as the Hydra Head Douche just said, if he stole the healing factor from you, you’d— right away. You had lost too much blood already, you had no doubt.

You’d be dead before you could as much as breathe in once.

The shudder that ran down your spine was violent and rattled your bones; you had no strength to stop it.

‘Will it be lights out for you, darling?’

You closed your eyes; and then there was a frustrated sound from behind the wall and you snapped them back open, a blissful flicker of relief.

Not unconscious, apparently. Good.

And then it finally dawned to you, the reason for Steve’s silence; and it made spite rise in your gut along with anger and completely unfair fondness.

Steve Rogers was still fighting; he was still fighting to help despite his unbreakable bounds. He was trying to focus and project, even though the pain.

He truly was stronger and more determined than the entirety of SHIELD together, wasn’t he? If he was about to go down – and you prayed he wouldn’t, you prayed he’d get home somehow, back-up arriving just in time for him to survive somehow – he’d go down fighting, taking as many Hydra lunatics as possible. He deserved so much better than he was getting. He deserved and needed you to get your shit together.

You weren’t dead yet.

There might not be hope left, but that didn’t mean you had to go down without a fight. If you’d die trying to make these bastards lives a little bit more miserable than they were, you could not only take fear and regrets to the grave, but also a fair amount of satisfaction.

You lifted your gaze to the Head Douche’s face with gritted teeth, eyes hard. You hoped.

“Nah, I hope not,” the man mused, eyes following Doctor Barret who now approached you with the other half of the artifact. His eyebrow rose along with your awe, as the artifact lit up with uncomfortably familiar symbols in your proximity. Still an Inhuman, it seemed, at least in body. Still capable of being a pain in the ass. “That would be sad, wouldn’t it? We’d like you to tell us how exactly your abilities work. Even if the Captain seemed to get a hang of it pretty quickly…”

“He’s trying to do it again, I think,” sounded from behind the wall, the new voice startling you despite your determination and making your stomach drop.

Hydra might have been reduced in numbers, but sadly grew in brainpower, apparently. Fuck them.

“Tsk-tsk,” the Head Douche licked his tongue, extending a hand towards the doctor, stepping to you himself. “That’s not wise. We don’t want to waste any more bullets, do we…? Really, SHIELD and Avengers need to work on teaching their agents not to get attached. It makes you all so weak.”

The gun was out of a holster you had missed earlier and aimed at your forehead before you could as much as startle.

And then the safety of it clicked, your view of the man’s face partly obscured by his hand and metal, forefinger firmly resting against the trigger.

Your heart jumped to your throat; your determination bled out of your body in an instant, horror replacing it.

One minuscule movement and you’d be dead.

It didn’t matter if you’d miraculously survived the power switch, if there would be no power exchange at all, since no one knew how the artifact worked, not really. For all you knew, it could have had a mind of its own, you had seen a monolith that changed into liquid seemingly at whim before, you had seen too much insane to believe you knew anything at all.

But that didn’t really matter anyway, did it?

You had thought so many times in the past hours that you would never seen the world outside of this cell, that you’d meet your end here – but it had never felt as tangible as the cold muzzle of the man’s gun hovering an inch from your head.

“Let’s make one thing clear, Captain. You try to project again and each of you gets a bullet. Equality is a virtue, after all, isn’t it,” he announced rather than asked, voice flat all the same as he threatened and mocked what Steve had fought for even since the damn 1940’s. “But I feel like I should inform you that the gun is aimed at Agent Spectre’s head, ready to make her open her third eye to eternity.”

You winced at the imagery and squeezed your eyes shut, a ghost of pain you had never felt circling at the centre of your forehead already.

“Where should we aim at the Captain’s body, what do you think, Agent Spectre?”

“Steve, please stop.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could think twice, quiet and shockingly calm to your own ears.

And even more surprising was the soft sound of metal and fabric as Steve shifted and a single deep ragged breath of his – and the silence that settled after.

He listened to you.

It was as scary as soothing.

You’d get to live a few more moments. And hopefully, he wouldn’t get punished by another gunshot wound. It was a little naïve to believe Hydra would have had any morals and wouldn’t shoot him just to prove a point, but a girl could hope and send a last wish, right?

You had two of those. For Steve to survive and be okay. And for every single person who was in this room with you to suffer unimaginable pain. You weren’t as virtuous as Steve was; had it been a little more realistic than it was, you’d have even wished for you being the one who would be the cause of it too.

The gun lowered minutely, the safety clicking back on, the softest shift of the air telling you the Head Douche let his arm fall to his side. You allowed yourself to breathe in shakily, eyes fluttering open despite your eyelashes growing heavy with tears.

“Touching,” the man commented, unimpressed. “I guess the other shoulder will do then, Mitch. Be ready. Now, as for you, darling, you just stay still. I believe it’s time to proceed. After all, discovery requires experimentation.”

Another violent shudder rocked your body as you recognized the words; the man smiled slightly, a twinkle of vicious glee in his hard gaze when he noticed.

A fire of rage lit up every achy cell in your body.

Asshole. Revelling in suffocating people with fear. Smiling when he had his henchmen to do his dirty work. Feeling so powerful with brainless goons to protect him and do his bidding. The perfect stereotypical bully, all the worse for Nazis being his divine inspiration.

You had no chance of overpowering him whatsoever and he had aimed a gun at you just a few seconds ago and yet, you couldn’t but spit the words burning on your tongue, disgust dripping from your tone despite being aware you truly shouldn’t poke the bear. Or the ancient strange octopus they worshiped for that matter.

“You really should lay off reading all that Reinhardt’s crap.”

The Head Douche cocked his head to side, one corner of his lips rising as he stepped away to make space for Doctor Barret and the glowing artifact.

“That’s doctor Reinhardt to you, Agent Spectre,” he corrected you, the dark glee in his face shining brighter. “He was quite the visionary. I’m glad you’re familiar with his work. Because if this simple exchange doesn’t work as we hope, we’ll move on to his methods. I heard the last Inhuman he had in his care, while still carrying the name you just used, ended up in so many pieces they had trouble reconstructing her body to stitch her up. They barely succeeded, even with her regenerative abilities… I think bleeding out from bullet wounds would be the merciful route for you, wouldn’t it?”

You weren’t proud of it, not in the slightest. But as panic slammed into you, you trembled, your lower lip wobbling.

You had heard the story of Jiaying. An Inhuman who had fascinated Reinhardt, or Doctor Whitehall, as he had been known later. At the death’s doorstep himself, he had been freed from SHIELD’s prison and got his chance to finally examine the woman who hadn’t aged. To experiment. To cut her open, taking a sample of anything he could, and another and another, eventually succeeding at reversing his own aging process.

And dumping the remnants of her body, only for her husband to stitch her up; ironically, for both her to become a villain just as bad.

You supposed Head Douche had a point after all. A bullet would be a mercy, even as that was hardly a pleasant option.

You had no doubt they would shoot you one more time the second they’d find out they stole Steve’s power.

Then again, maybe they would take great joy in seeing you die slowly and in pain, digging into your wounds for fun and took a few samples anyway, in the name of science, despite already getting what they wanted. That was the kind of fuckery Hydra did, didn’t they?

And then, they would do the same with Steve.

But if he was the second, that meant he had more time. And by then, the backup might finally arrive.

The glow of the artifact felt warm, even as the metal still hadn’t touched you; an undeniable reminder of who you were. What you were.

Last flare of fight rippled through you, but it was gone just as fast.

You’d be too slow. You could eliminate the henchmen who held you, maybe, if you pushed hard through the pain, but they were still gunshot wounds. You had already seen and felt the results of standing up, the damage to the muscles too severe. And even if you by some miracle managed to get rid of the doctor too, there were still two other people, both of them with a clearly twitchy finger. Anything less than superspeed combined with superstrength was useless.

You were useless.

You closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you whispered, trying your best to block your hearing so you wouldn’t hear his reaction, whatever it might be.

You didn’t want to leave this world hearing his disappointment. You had had enough of it throughout your whole life. You were ashamed enough all on your own, but you didn’t have any strength, will, or chance to keep fighting.

So you slowly breathed in and out, vainly trying to relax as you felt the artifact pulse near your cheek, and you accepted your fate.

Had Steve been in your place, he wouldn’t have – you were sure of it. But you weren’t him. Despite what he had said, unlike him, you were only human. And the fact was that even if you did somehow neutralize everyone in the room, Mitch and whoever was in Steve’s cell would just… neutralize Steve.

And you couldn’t have that.

You squeezed your eyes tighter, feeling your body shake even as you tried not to give them the satisfaction of seeing you scared. You cursed the lonely tears rolling down your cheeks. You sent a quick prayer to whatever messed up God listening.

And then you realized it wasn’t you who was shaking.

It was the ground.

And it wasn’t shaking – it was quaking.

In your mind’s eye, you smiled and then laughed – hysterically. These assholes should quiver in their boots. They had no idea what force of nature was about to hit them.

Agent Daisy Johnson had been a force to reckon with even since she had joined; but Quake would take them by storm.

Or more precisely, by an earthquake.

“What the-“

Before you could let the relief envelop you, a deafening noise swept over the room, the wave of sheer power seemingly shattering your bones.

When darkness pulled you under, it was with a weak, but real smile on your face.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

That’s right, folks, Quake is coming 👀

This chapter took a long time and I'm aware... life's been happening (and not always in a good way) and this chapter was a long one and heavy one to write, despite the oy it brought me. Please, consider leaving a comment if you can - let me know your thoughts, I love reading them!

FYI, I couldn’t resist Quake making an appearance and I couldn’t resist the heart to heart over the wall, it was actually one of the scenes I’ve had written down first along with the screaming match at the beginning of the series 🥹

I hope March is kind to you 💕

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #shield agent reader #agent reader #inhuman reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #back and forth #anika ann

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