#if you think me helping you cheat using the weapon that was being used on you and just. swapping it over to your enemy

[vaguely-concerned]

I stumbled my way through some pseudo-milestone social and personal stuff today and you know what? it was incredibly nice and a good experience and I'm proud of myself, actually. needless to say my nervous system in the immediate aftermath is also humming at at a pitch that could break glass and kill dolphins, and I feel faintly like three day old sunkissed roadkill, but sometimes you just have to tank that shit because that seems to happen whether what's going on is good or bad lmao

[xomakara]

Behind Closed Doors

SUMMARY |  The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up to your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not.

PAIRINGS |  Seonghwa x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  neighbor!Seonghwa, neighbor!Reader, smut, non-idol au, next door neighbor trope

CONTENT/WARNINGS | drunk cheating ex, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  6,053 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I love writing next door neighbor tropes just as much as I love writing college aus. I hope you all like this. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"I told you to get out!" you yelled, throwing pillows at the sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend you dated. You didn't miss when they hit him right in the face, and it gave you a weird satisfaction seeing him be hurt, even though it was from the small weapon.

"C'mon, babe, please. We were so good together!" He complained, attempting to get on his hands and knees and crawl over to where you stood on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean that me finding out about you fucking all those random tramps was us being 'good together' too?" you scoffed at him.

"Now, babe—"

"Don't you 'babe' me, you asshole. Go find some other chick to go play house with! I never want to see you again, are we clear!?" you seethed. This had gotten annoying rather fast, and now you could barely stand looking at his face any longer.

"Baby, you know that she's nothing compared to you. You're the only one I ever want. I can't get you out of my—"

"If I was the only one that you cared about, you wouldn't have done that in the first place," you said as calmly as you could, trying not to get more upset by thinking about what he did.

“We all make mistakes sometimes!” He pleaded.

"FUCKING MY LANDLORD IN MY BEDROOM AFTER THINKING I WAS OUT OF TOWN IS A MISTAKE!?!?" you screamed, picking up another pillow from behind you and threw it with full force at him. He only missed the attack by dodging.

"Babe..." He tried crawling to you again but you just punched the sofa as hard as you could.

"I have had it! I am so fucking done! There is no chance in hell we will ever get back together and get married like you'd wanted—we're done. Are we clear on this, Park Donghyun!?" You used his full name in a way that wasn't appealing or desirable. It was in a harsh, angry voice that rang through his ears and scared him slightly. He just stayed on the ground, still crawling as slow as he could and acting as if it pained him for you to feel the way you did.

"Sweetheart, please," he croaked. "You know we belong together. I never really loved them, it was you."

You weren't sure if you two were ever good together or just good fucks to each other—either way, you weren't going back to a person like that. When he reached over the couch for you, you went to dodge out of the way and unfortunately, with your shitty luck, you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and fell, hitting your head hard against the corner as you hit the ground.

There was a lot of pain and the stench of soju filled your nose as Donghyun bent over you with lust filled eyes…and then suddenly nothing.

A few blinks later, the blurry figure above you was now much clearer, but it definitely wasn't your shitty ex-boyfriend. It was a much more beautiful sight: Seonghwa, your gorgeous neighbor who seemed to care more than he should about the stranger across the hallway, not that you were going to complain.

"Hey, hey, you should stay still," Seonghwa spoke softly.

"Oww," you groaned, taking an attempt to move to show you were feeling fine. Seonghwa gently grasped your arms and helped you into a sitting position. "Did that fucker leave?" 

"Don't worry. I made sure he wouldn't be bothering you again," Seonghwa replied, letting his eyes glide down to the purplish mark on the side of your face. It broke his heart to see that someone would ever consider treating someone else, especially a woman, this way. "Did he do that to you?"

"This?" you winced at the slight pain. "No. I was trying to get away from him and I tripped. Unfortunately, there was a table there that knocked me out, not the creep." You let out a long breath and blinked rapidly. "God, why did my life turn into a drama?"

You and Seonghwa sat there awkwardly, neither of you too sure what to do in the current situation you were both in. You were never that close, having only waved at each other a handful of times when you had happened to catch each other at the same time and your eyes met. Other than that, you hadn't gotten past acquaintances with the handsome male, though your friends seemed convinced you should start a relationship with him or at least have a nice quick fling for a week or so.

"Hey," he broke the silence that had been lasting a while. "If you want me to, I can put an ice pack on that for you. Might help to prevent the swelling, not to mention the pain."

You hadn't noticed the ache before, but now that it was mentioned, the spot throbbed almost as if in response. A look of surprise had etched onto your features as you finally answered. "That's alright," you answered a little too fast to be natural, "you don't have to do that."

Seonghwa watched you for a second before his expression melted into one of reassurance. "It's okay, I insist," his features brightened with a genuine smile. "Do you have any in your freezer?"

Before you could respond, he was walking over and grabbing them. With the ice in hand, he sat next to you. His shoulder rested gently against yours, his warmth spreading from his thin cotton shirt to you and you were tempted to sink against him and feel his muscles under his shirt. His smell was intoxicating, the light scent of his body wash still lingering from when he showered before coming to rescue you.

Seonghwa was coming home from running errands when the sound of shouting across the hall caught his attention. He knew it was no place for someone to be alone in such a situation, so he rushed over without a second thought. He didn't even question why the front door was unlocked; he assumed someone was preventing you from leaving and Seonghwa did not like that.

Bursting through the door, Seonghwa's protective instincts surged when he saw your ex looming over you. He didn't hesitate – grabbing the man, shoving him out, and slamming the door shut. Concern flooded him as he turned to you, lying on the living room floor.

Seonghwa was relieved to hear your injury was from a fall, not your ex's abuse. As he held the ice pack to your bruised cheek, his heart ached, wishing he could erase your pain. A permanent frown settled on his concerned face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, pulling the ice back to gauge your reaction.

You nodded your thanks, then took the ice pack from him. "My head's pounding," you admitted, "but it was doing that before. The ice actually feels good..." You trailed off, glancing at Seonghwa. He was watching you with such focused attention, it made you self-conscious. "Though, yeah, it is pretty cold."

"Hm... How are things with him? Better now? Do I need to scare him off some more?" He joked, despite the tone and the expression on his face showing nothing more than that.

A dry laugh fell from your lips. "I honestly can't believe him."

"He seemed really obsessed." He nodded as he agreed.

"It's not just that," you scoffed bitterly. "He slept with other women the entire time we were dating, even after he said he loved me. He even slept with my landlady when he thought I was out of town." You shook your head, exasperated. "And here I am, unloading all this on you when we barely know each other. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my ex."

"Well, my schedule is empty at the moment, and I don't mind listening to you talk, either," Seonghwa shifted so that your right knee pressed against his own, his arms resting against his leg. "And about us not really knowing each other, we could get to know each other now and worry about that another day."

You thought about his offer to try and get to know each other while pressing the ice against the bruised spot once again. "So, I should be expecting you in my apartment more often now?"

A slight grin flashed over his lips, a deep chuckle shaking his body lightly. The vibration seemed to radiate into you, a sweet buzz tingling throughout your body and making it warmer than before. "Only if you need rescuing."

The corners of your lips curved into a smile as your free hand reached and ruffled Seonghwa's hair. "Careful now. What would your girlfriend say?"

He let out a laugh. "I'm single if that's what you're asking."

This gorgeous man was single? Even a guy like him was still unattached in this dating scene? As much as you were shocked, you were grateful for the information. You made sure not to let out a relieved sigh as he leaned in toward you.

Seonghwa removed the ice from your hand and held it against your face. It felt like it was much colder now that his fingers were brushing against your skin, especially since the bruise felt a bit better. Not to mention that you could see something sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes. This guy...

"Sorry for coming in unannounced earlier. I just needed to make sure that he wouldn't be able to hurt you," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "You must be surprised I didn't even knock or anything."

You blinked rapidly, pulling back slightly. Then, you reached out and placed your hand over his, helping him hold the ice pack to your cheek. "You don't need to apologize," you reassured him with a warm smile. "I'm just grateful you were here. Who knows what could've happened otherwise, to me or my apartment." Your smile softened. "And don't worry about surprising me. Thank you, Seonghwa."

The shared warmth of your hands on the ice pack faded as Seonghwa withdrew his touch, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. A flicker of disappointment quickly gave way to a flutter of excitement as his fingers gently grazed your cheek, careful of the bruise. This wasn't the casual acquaintance you'd known from brief encounters at the mailbox; a deeper connection was sparking to life.

Seonghwa kept the ice pack in place, but his focus shifted. His right hand traced your jawline, fingers hesitant yet drawn to your warmth. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected, a spark igniting where only polite exchanges had existed before. His touch lingered, a silent question hanging in the air, as if seeking permission to bridge the gap between comfort and something more.

He pulled his hand away and picked up the now melting bag, bringing it into the open-plan kitchen that connected with the living room. You followed behind him, confused as to why he had stopped the closeness the two of you were sharing before.

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen while Seonghwa refroze the ice pack. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle with interest as he studied you.

"Uh, well..."

"Or should I give you some space?" His eyebrows knit together as he fidgeted nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. "I mean, I shouldn't impose, right?"

As if the fates were giving you the signal to tell Seonghwa that, yes, he was always welcome to 'impose', your stomach growled, growling loud enough that the gorgeous man couldn't have ignored it. You groaned and hung your head slightly while laughing lightly, embarrassment burning across your face and through your body.

Seonghwa let out a laugh. "Come over to my place. I'll whip something up," he said with a gentle voice. He walked out of the kitchen and past you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You weren't entirely sure if it was done on purpose or if it was coincidental. But you let him guide you out of your apartment and across the way to his.

A few weeks later, Seonghwa had invited you over for coffee and conversation. Spending more time with the tall and gorgeous man across the hallway didn't sound bad at all. Sure, it had only been a few days since the 'incident', but you had already learned so much. For instance, Seonghwa juggled studying business with bartending gigs and helping out at a friend's car rental. It wasn't the most conventional career path, but he managed it all with surprising ease. Not to mention the fact he had the ability to stay motivated to pull it all off and somehow stay as calm and cool as he is. Then there was the way he effortlessly slipped into his charming demeanor. And how that never left whenever you were together.

Okay, you had to admit you had it pretty bad. This wasn't how you expected to be feeling, given how your relationship with your ex had ended just recently. Yet here you were, admiring this amazingly talented and attractive man sitting in front of you, wearing the most casual clothing possible. Despite looking quite sleepy and lazy with a bit of hair mussed and a very big, comfortable shirt, a small portion of skin was showing and it took all the willpower you had not to stare at him for a little longer. He was that incredible to look at. He'd even fallen asleep in his arm chair, and when you heard soft snores emitted, a light giggle had escaped your lips. Even in sleep, he still looked handsome and you could feel the growing urge to run your fingers through his silky hair and graze his face delicately.

Oh yes, you had it pretty bad... But how would he react? Maybe he would be the one running away. Or not. If he's anything like your ex, then there is a large probability he will leave like all the men you've dated had. Still...

You heaved a sigh and peeked over at Seonghwa, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. You quietly cleared your throat and leaned over the table where his mug still remained, most likely cold. Placing your fingers against the handle, you began moving to grab the mug, planning on placing it in the kitchen sink. But just as you touched the glass of the mug, the sleepy man stirred awake, blinking to get ahold of reality and waking up. Seonghwa yawned widely, the sound catching in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, a shy smile spreading across your face.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep..." His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure.

"Nah, don't worry about it," a genuine smile graced your features, "I don't mind."

Your reaction seemed to comfort him as he rose from the chair and stretched before gathering his coffee mug and reaching out for yours, collecting them to take them to the kitchen and making more coffee for the two of you. You watched intently as his fingers went to his hair to mess it up a bit before coming back to the living room and sitting. He leaned back, exposing more skin at the neck of his shirt, making you realize he didn't have a shirt underneath it.

"So I've been thinking. About that creep," he paused and sipped the coffee. "I was thinking. You and I should hang out together when the creep is nearby. See if it helps to show him that you've moved on."

"Oh? And you think it would work?" You raised your brow, interested and skeptical.

"Yeah," he said it too quickly. His hand went to rub the back of his neck and his gaze stayed down, avoiding you. "He might just have gotten the hint that you don't want anything to do with him. Maybe we can help the process move along? That's if you want to."

His flustered state was adorable, a blush dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze. You couldn't help but giggle at his bashfulness.

"Are you certain about this? It would mean spending a lot more time together," you teased, enjoying his flustered reaction. His grip tightened on the mug, and he avoided your eyes. "Unless you're only suggesting this out of concern, and you don't actually want to..." you trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

"It's not like that," his voice was a tad shaky and almost sounded panicked as his eyes locked with yours, the flush still coloring his skin. "I'm kind of interested. In you..."

His confession brought heat rushing to your face as well, and your embarrassment was written all over, judging from the amused smirk on Seonghwa's face and how you averted your eyes to focus on the floor. “I’m interested in you too…”

"Y-yeah?" he stammered, his voice catching in his throat. He looked every bit the nervous schoolboy, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline and darting his eyes anywhere but your face. His lips parted, then closed again as he licked them nervously.

Seonghwa's flustered reaction was endearing. It was hard to believe this confident, capable man was reduced to a blushing, stammering mess in your presence. The realization that he was interested in you, of all the women in the complex who likely vied for his attention, sent a thrill through you. It was impossible not to fall for him a little harder in that moment.

With your mutual confessions hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. It became charged with a new intimacy, though a hint of awkwardness lingered. Seonghwa's eyes darted around the room, while your face couldn't help but break into a wide smile. This was a new beginning, a thrilling and uncertain one. As the initial tension eased, Seonghwa visibly relaxed, though he still couldn't quite meet your gaze. He fidgeted with his mug, taking a few sips, and your eyes met in a shared moment of laughter, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings now laid bare.

"Ah," he set his mug down before standing. "Do you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? Just the two of us?" His gaze returned to you as you got up and put your mug down, keeping it by the table as he placed his in the sink to be cleaned later.

"I'd like that. Let's do it," you couldn't contain your excitement, and your hand instinctively reached out, slipping over where it rested on the sink. Your fingers intertwined with his, causing him to gasp softly. But he didn't pull away; instead, his grip tightened slightly, sending a warm jolt through you.

Seonghwa couldn't speak, his joy evident in the widening of his smile and the tightening of his hold on your hand. As if remembering his usual charm, a playful smirk tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to contain his happiness, while his fingers intertwined with yours. "Yeah?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.

A rush of heat burned your cheeks as you swallowed a nervous lump before answering. "Yes, I want to spend time with you."

His grip loosened, and he closed the distance between you, his warm breath washing over you. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of nervousness in the air, and then your eyes met. In an instant, you were enveloped in his embrace, his nose brushing affectionately against yours before his lips found yours. The kiss was intoxicating, a dizzying sensation heightened by the gentle pressure of his lips guiding yours.

All too soon, the feeling came to an end when he pulled back, leaving you a mess while he remained fairly composed, his smile beaming brilliantly. "Let me know when you want to go out and I'll take you anywhere. And anytime," Seonghwa cupped your flushed cheek with his palm. His touch sent electric sparks flying over every spot of your skin. "Call me, text me...come over any time."

"Okay," a smile that you didn't even feel could exist came to life as he leaned down again and kissed you, deepening this one a bit more and sending you further into an intense and head spinning trance.

He gave a bright and wide smile that shines as brightly as the sun as he took your hand in his, locking the two of your fingers together as he guided you out to the apartment hallway. He leaned against his open door frame, watching as you opened your front door. Before you could step through, you spun to face him, wanting to thank him, only to be met with him pulling you back and pecking your lips briefly.

"Hey, I'll stop by later if you want," his gorgeous dark brown eyes were sparking and begging you not to reject his offer. "I'll bring dinner. Sounds good?"

"Sure, yeah. That'll be nice," you answered, words slightly slurred since your head hadn't completely returned from being caught in the bliss of those kisses.

"Cool. I'll see you then," he placed a light kiss upon your nose before watching you return to your place.

The sound of the lock clicking shut echoed behind him as Seonghwa practically flew back into his apartment, his joyous shouts filling the living room. He was overflowing with pure elation, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Rescuing his beautiful neighbor had been an impulsive act on a seemingly ordinary day, but who could have predicted it would lead to this?

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Seonghwa thought, already planning how to shower his new girlfriend with affection. She deserved so much more than that awful ex. The best dates, the best gifts, everything she wanted would be hers. He vowed to dedicate himself to her happiness, helping her erase every painful memory of the past.

After numerous dates filled with stolen kisses and lingering touches, you couldn't deny your growing desire for something more. The passion intensified with each shared moment, often leading to intimate cuddles on the couch or in bed, despite having dinner waiting or a movie paused in the background. Resisting the urge to take things further was a constant battle, but your patience was rewarded during a particularly heated make-out session one evening.

You were the first to move, rising off the couch to settle in his lap, arms finding their way around his neck while your hips were taken control of by Seonghwa's hands. Those skillful and very long fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead and grab as his teeth and tongue both went to work to drive you crazy. The fabric of his jeans was not comfortable at all and you tried to adjust your hips a bit to seek more comfort and maybe to send him some messages that you really enjoyed what was occurring. However, this movement seemed to rile Seonghwa up a bit.

"Can we..." you started to ask but couldn't find the rest of the words that you desperately sought out.

"We can... We can move it to the bedroom," he had already read you like an open book and his arms wrapped around you. "Or stay here if you don't mind the couch? We can go weherever you want to go."

As much as you liked the idea of staying right where you were and continuing this there and then, you weren't certain if you wanted the first time to be on the couch, even if that's where all the previous kissing had led. Shaking your head lightly, your answer was given and Seonghwa gladly lifted you and carried you with his long legs taking large and quick steps to his room, leaving kisses along the sides of your neck and behind your ear, a known sensitive spot for you.

He pressed you onto the mattress, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you cried out his name. How had this incredible man become yours? His touch was magic, igniting sparks wherever his fingers traced, leaving you weak and pliant in his arms. You threaded your fingers through his soft, thick hair, the boyish style contrasting with the raw passion in his eyes.

“You're so handsome, Seonghwa," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Handsome and talented? Hmm? And totally yours," his bright eyes shined with his dazzling smile and his eyebrows rose. "I'm yours, angel. All yours."

"I want you, Seonghwa..." you couldn't contain how badly you wanted him, the yearning strong as you watched him move his head to one side and his face nuzzle your neck. A light growl and he bit the spot he'd just exposed by moving out of the way before his teeth dragged his lower lip slowly back across the surface.

"You can have all of me," the smirk was obvious from the sound of his husky tone. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Do whatever you ask and I'll gladly listen."

"You should probably know... I've never been on top. Always the bottom," you admitted.

"Hmmm...so you want to ride this tonight?" He grinded his crotch over top of yours, allowing the rough friction to give you a preview, the movement so expert and sensual as his eyes shut and he threw back his head, lips parted to let out a groan. "Because I can make that happen if it'll please my angel."

You couldn't stop your fingers from raking along his bare skin beneath his shirt, digging slightly as your back arched for more contact. "Yes. I want that. Will you give it to me?"

"Hell yes," his husky growl had you burning for him with anticipation and the excitement made your hands shake as your shirt was removed. In seconds, the rest of your clothing had been peeled from your form and Seonghwa stood by the bed to toss off everything.

There wasn't time to admire the masterpiece that he had under his pants because those hands returned, sliding along your curves and hips before flipping you up to straddle over him. Once settled and comfortable, your eyes fixated on how aroused he was before you as your core was positioned directly over the bulge pressing firmly against your heat. Your hands supported you in his lap with the flat of your palms pressed against the soft sheet, just below his firm, perky chest. With each slight wiggle of your hips, an enticing moan erupted and his head pushed back while his length grinded against your sex, creating a lovely mix of heat and wetness that coated over his growing arousal. The slick and wet noises each time you rolled or swiveled your hips sent your head spinning and you wanted nothing more than to continue that until you would eventually need a taste of that pulsing, red, swollen tip.

"Hwa? Can I suck you for a bit?" you whispered as your lips spread out across his upper chest.

A light hum that was filled with pure desire came as a response from him before a broken 'fuck' slipped free as the first touch of your tongue and lips worked across his defined collarbone and your fingers began working his growing length. Each pump made your core swell and dampen more, and the anticipation and arousal nearly blinded you, so badly were you just yearning to be filled and used.

When he seemed to be unable to handle it any longer, Seonghwa flipped you back around so your rear faced him and you had your mouth leveled with the object that would very soon satisfy that part of your aching sex. "Why don't I eat you out while you suck me? Sounds fair to you, babe?"

You could only hum against the smooth skin of his arousal and closed your eyes when you felt his palms roaming across the curvatures of your rear before spreading the plump cheeks. He didn't waste any more time before diving right in with a long, deep lick to your soaking pussy. Each swirl and circle had you wanting to moan and push your hips back for more while at the same time, trying to take him deep, gagging slightly until you began to find the right balance and breathing technique. Seonghwa was a lot bigger than your last boyfriend, but luckily for you, there was enough practice and pleasure before, thanks to your skills, to prepare for him.

"Fuck Hwa, right there...ohh!" your cries got a little louder and your body felt more restless when he began nibbling and licking over your clit.

"Come on, angel. Don't stop sucking me," he purred against your heat and the vibrations drove you higher and more insane.

As soon as he returned and increased his attention on you, you returned yours to his deliciously thick and hard length. You would make sure to give it the utmost care and attention, no matter how good it felt to have those masterful lips and tongue working you in the most sensitive spots. You pulled out all the tricks and techniques you knew, bobbing your head at just the right moment and at the perfect angle that you could take him in more and at the right moment would stroke his base. Meanwhile your other hand carefully rolled his sack and when you weren't completely focused, would pull up lightly from its place. Each moan he let out into your dripping cunt had your legs quivering and you weren't sure how much longer you could take before coming undone.

Your head was beginning to cloud more and more with desire and lust while the hot and slick sounds and your panting grew louder the longer the oral stimulation went on for. It took your whole power and energy to remember that you had your hands working while you felt like a puddle, near your limits of coming undone as his tongue swiped against the most sensitive nerves. It became increasingly difficult to focus and concentrate on keeping your throat and gag reflexes under control with each bob. You definitely weren't going to be able to handle this for much longer if things kept going at that pace.

"Hwa, I can't...ahhhhh," your screams echoed as his talented tongue and the slight prodding of a long, slender finger at your entrance had you finishing in no time.

"Me too, angel," his breathy moans were encouraging as were the heavy panting from his mouth while he pushed his hips back and forth, gliding easily within your mouth with the help of your hand. "Oh, fuck... Fuck! Here it comes, babe..." Seonghwa grunted as he shoved his cock back further into your warm, wet, and waiting mouth and you swallowed and held him in there, eyes watering and stinging slightly.

Once he eased up and the load that had shot directly down your throat was swallowed, you turned around and crawled up his body, your lips latching onto his neck.

"I'm not quite done with you yet, Hwa," your hand gripped his throbbing member once more, rubbing teasing circles along the sensitive flesh and feeling it twitch within your fingers. Your thumb smeared the moisture from the head across the entire, swollen shaft, making the pumping slick and quick. "Need you in me...right fucking now..."

"Take it as much as you need, angel," the raspy voice growled back as he used your soaked entrance to slick and prep his length.

In the matter of a single second, his full length slid straight into you and you let out a drawn out moan. With the size of your new lover, he hit spots that no one had ever even come close to touching. He was that thick and long, hitting places you'd never imagined having touched. He must have been blessed by the gods and you were incredibly lucky.

"If I'm hurting you—" Seonghwa began to ask, concern etched on his face.

"No! Hwa, you're fine... Better than fine," a breathy, eager, and almost desperate whimper met his ear as you grinded your hips on his length, begging for movement and pleasure from him. "Fuck, you fill me up so well. It feels so amazing," you added.

His hips rolled and with each stroke, each thrust was controlled and steady as he made certain to hit your deepest spots, rocking his pelvis at the perfect angle so he could continuously graze along that spot deep inside, coaxing it to explode and send you over. "So tight and wet...perfect...fuck, this pussy is gorgeous and sweet. And only mine. Right, angel? My girl's perfect tight little pussy is all mine?" Seonghwa asked and smirked after hearing your sweet sounds.

All you could do was nod, clutching him and running your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to hold off your second climax as long as you possibly could, even though the way his cock kept sliding, prodding and working along that one sweet spot would become your undoing. That, and his filthy words. Those filthy words mixed with the beautiful grunts and moans from him were so sexy. He was already wrecking you so much.

"All yours, baby," you said softly. "Only yours."

"So perfect, my angel. Come on, my sweet angel," his husky voice murmured and encouraged you to keep going and let the feelings come to their highest peak.

"H-harder. Fuck me harder, Hwa." The sensations within you built, the pressure and knot deep within ready to burst. Just a little more. Only a little more and you could finish and feel free of the bliss and pleasure that your boyfriend was so skillfully bringing forth.

"Prettiest, most angelic voice...just listen to the little moans you're making... Fuck!" Seonghwa pounded and pounded deeper and deeper into you until you were a babbling mess. He fucked the words completely out of you, replacing them instead with sweet moans and screams of his name. That angelic sound of you reaching your climax did not go unnoticed as it bounced along his bedroom walls and your tight walls squeezed him.

It was all too much. After giving you such a glorious release that had you seeing stars, Seonghwa reached his high, moans mixing together as the two of you panted and clutched each other with strong arms. The two of you basked in the high the two of you had just taken part of and came down from slowly, hearts beating at erratic rhythms while your breath returned.

"Wow..." Seonghwa spoke softly. "You're amazing, angel."

"That was...that was great," you still hadn't fully recuperated from the waves and the intensity of the mind blowing experience with him. "But Hwa...baby?" you questioned.

"Hm?" Seonghwa questioned, his voice raspy with contentment.

"We definitely need showers," you giggled.

"Hm... But I can't walk yet, my legs are numb," Seonghwa stated as he gently patted your rear.

You giggled and smirked, "Get stronger ones, mister," before settling down on his chest.

"My legs can barely move! A shower sounds awesome, but I'm so comfy and tired right now," he made a fake, overly loud snoring sound.

You poked the tip of his nose. "How about I draw a bath for us then?"

"Perfect. Or we could skip the bath all together and just do some more...adventures...in bed," he had a smile full of mischief and the wink had you giggling and shaking your head, a blush finding its way into your cheeks once more.

"You and your dirty mind..." you went to get up and start the water, only to have him grab your wrist and sit up slightly, the sweat dripping down and his cheeks rosy pink.

"Angel, one more? Then we can be good and clean," his pleas were soft and inviting, and very convincing when coupled with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes.

"How about sex in the bathtub instead? As a compromise and to satisfy your neediness," you said and put a finger to your lips.

Seonghwa chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. That's a deal."

[polarisbibliotheque]

Vergil and his s/o training together

Or Vergil and his s/o spar for foreplay fun!

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: With your sword recently broken, Vergil gave you a new devil arm to get used to. He is also your mentor when it comes to fighting - but being his lover doesn't mean he's going to go easy on you. Quite the contrary.

Restrictions: None, BUT I should tell you: lots of sexual tension in this one. What can I say, Vergil is a weird guy, sparring with his lover does things to him. Nothing explicit though, you know how I roll. Also, reader gets bruises from training/sparring. He's rough and doesn't hold back, I mentioned it before I think Vergil has this "only the strong survive" mentality, and I do think he gets ruthless as a sign of respect for his lover's abilities rather than anything else.

Author's Notes: I blame @yanderebishforlevi for this one after they dropped an ask I just answered :) I'm focusing on the Halloween specials, but that made me go through my unfinished, discarded, short stuff on limbo and rehash/put it together to post something new here.

Simple stuff, not really much of a story, just some training with sexy, bared arms, ruthless, emotionally constipated man. That's why I never thought about posting, it felt like it was missing something a plot so I was going to put it in Nemesis but, oh well. Hope you guys like it xD

“We’re done for today.”

Vergil’s words sounded final, as he lowered the Yamato after a devastating blow that had you tumbling back and struggling to fall on your knees – scraping them in a way you would have some bruises to display for a couple of days at least.

“Given it’s my training session, love…” You growled while pulling yourself back on your feet, using your sword as a crutch for help. Vergil observed you with those cutting silvery eyes, almost as if questioning your resolve to pull yourself up. Again. “I say when we are done. And I am not done.”

“You are being terribly stubborn, that is.” Vergil had Yamato back in its sheath, arms crossed while curiously watching you take your coat off, having only your training clothes underneath.

“Well, at least we got that in common, Dark Slayer.” You carefully watched as Vergil mirrored you and took off his own long coat, leaving his arms bare for the first time that night. He only did that when he was about to get rough during training – and you had to huff a laugh. “I’m only standing down when I master this damned sword, and apparently I’m not even close to that.”

“You are closer than you were when we started.” He took a deep breath, already choosing a fighting stance since you were doing the same – walking slowly in a circle, observing him with a pair of predatorial eyes. Vergil was used to be under that scrutiny around demons, but when it came to your eyes, they were threatening… And bewitching.

“And I would be even closer, if you hadn’t been cheating this whole time.” You narrowed your eyes, allowing a smirk color the corner of your lips as Vergil froze in place – you could even bet he stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.

“Cheating…?” His voice was dangerously low, words alarmingly taking their time, savoring every syllable of that little word. You knew you had struck a nerve – but, in your defense, Vergil had been striking your nerves ever since you started training a few hours prior.

It had been a couple of weeks you had a new sword in your inventory: big, heavy, resembling a claymore. Dante and Vergil had killed one particularly powerful demon that ended up becoming the sword now in your hands: brimming with demonic power, ready to be wielded to bring doom to its enemies. You had your previous sword broken into shards while protecting Nero during one of your jobs – a story for another time – and Vergil thought the claymore of sorts would be a nice replacement.

A new weapon, though, meant a lot of new things: new grip, new balance, new weight, new powers… So much to master, but you had to learn soon in order to keep up with your devil hunter job. Halloween was approaching and, given how chaotic the last few years were, you had to at least master the basics soon enough.

Vergil, being the thoughtful partner and lover of knowledge that he was, offered to help you train and master your new sword – all his arcane teachings would surely come in handy when dealing with a devil arm.

You had a problem, though. Learning and mastering things on your own was almost a given, and you always expected to do it at your pace – meaning, you didn’t have much patience to not be at least good and easily fighting after a few hours of practice. With a mentor like Vergil, though, that process was taking double the time.

He was relentless. You being his lover just meant he would go twice as hard on you – in his dictionary, it probably meant how much he adored you; but in your dictionary, you were absolutely and infinitely vexed that, by now, you hadn’t been able to at least get to a tie with him.

And that was something you always proudly said you could do.

“Yes. Cheating.” You held your sword with only one hand, throwing it behind your body and having your eyes fixed on your lover. That way, when you or him decided to attack, you could use all your strength to lunge forward. “You got exponentially worse every time I lost and got back on my feet again; you haven’t made it easier nor remained with the same level of fighting from the beginning. You are making it more difficult for me. If you hadn’t, I would’ve already had my sword on your throat by now.”

“Tsk.” You smiled as Vergil finally had that nonchalant attitude, but his eyes burned like the coldest circles of Hell. With a swift move, he unsheathed the Yamato and attacked you – as you had already prepared before, you threw your sword forward, immediately able to parry. He quickly tried another attack, but you managed to grip your sword with both of your hands and hold him back. You found Vergil’s silvery eyes staring at you sharply between the blades of your swords. “Don’t expect demons to have mercy just because the sight of you eclipses even the moon herself.”

“If we weren’t sparring, I’d take that as a compliment.” You had a small laugh hidden amidst your words, clearly seeing the shadow of a smile Vergil tried to conceal before he pushed you back with only half of his might – still having you stumble back and use whatever energy you had left to keep your body balanced.

“Your human body won’t be able to take it for too long.” And even if Vergil was trying to convince you to stand down, he still circled you, keeping his own predatorial gaze on your form and tense shoulders to quickly get into a fighting stance. You weren’t one easy to convince when you had your mind set on something, that he had to admit. “We should call it a day and tend your wounds. Your body doesn’t have the same resilience a devil’s body has.”

“I would have a lot more if you hadn’t been ruthless with me, love.” You pointed at some slight marks on your body – nothing too jarring, but still making an appearance here and there. “These bruises are on you.”

With those words, it was your turn to lunge forward and attack first. Vergil easily defended with a swift move from Yamato, trying an attack right after. You managed to defend as well, holding him still for a few seconds.

“They will make you stronger.” Were the only words he managed to answer before you attacked again. Vergil seemed to fight effortlessly, while you had to muster all your strength to wield your new sword – Vergil was right to say your body wouldn’t last for too long: you were already tired, thanks to his training, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to back down. And he knew that.

Even if Vergil worried about your stamina, he couldn’t deny how much he admired – and had a pang of pride in his own heart – every time you displayed that much willpower.

With a calculated attack to disarm you, Vergil was certain your playing would come to an end and he would have the final word on that argument – he did not expect, though, a graceful move from your side, spinning such a heavy sword in one of your hands and making it face down, coming between you and him and completely breaking his stance, foiling Vergil’s attempt to end your resolve.

You quickly threw your sword a little on the air in front of you in order to let go from the grip and hold the blade itself – strong enough to be able to wield it, but careful not to hurt yourself in the process – which gave you the perfect opportunity to spin around him and smack the hilt of your sword on his back.

Vergil slowly turned his head around, still impressed by your swift move after being so tired, only to find you with a smug smile on your lips.

“It will make you stronger.” You pointed at him with the hilt of your sword, throwing it slightly in the air again so you could grab the hilt with one hand and then another.

Vergil kept his back at you, calmly walking to the other side of the room so you could take your initial stances again – but this time you saw him shaking his head and heard a low chuckle coming from him.

Vergil was a survivor, one that lived the law of the jungle for so long that sparring and teasing his partner was one of the best ways to entertain him. To say you were both having fun was an understatement.

“Apparently, I haven’t been ruthless enough with you.” He turned around, holding Yamato’s hilt with both of his hands. You had to hold back a smile – that was one of his stances that usually meant Vergil was starting to lose his patience and considering going all out.

And that usually happened when he recognized you were starting to get the upper hand – which meant he saw your playful sword smack as a sign you were starting to get the hang of things.

After all, you only did that sort of thing with your old sword. Comparing to the way you both used to spar, he was going considerably easier on you tonight.

“Let’s remedy that.” His voice was almost a growl as his feet moved like lightning on the floor.

You had to put all your concentration in that fight – your eyes never leaving the Yamato, quickly finding the blade in the air from its shimmer and parrying with your heavy claymore. Using your weight, you pushed Vergil back – which only worked because he saw it as an opportunity to power another heavy attack to try to get you off-balance. You stumbled a little, but quickly gained your balance once more, holding back another quick attack from your lover – something quite frustrating for him, as you observed in his furrowed brows.

Even if he wasn’t going easy on you, it was the first time Vergil was tapping into some of his demonic abilities – strength, speed and power, for starters – and you took that as a compliment. If he wasn’t going to cut you some slack, he could at least fight you the same way he always did – and Vergil never really held back when fighting you.

As he said before, it would only make you stronger. And that was why you could easily fight some of the most frightening demons of Hell without even breaking a sweat.

Vergil didn’t take long to attack you again. He had that look in his eyes he only used when he was hunting, leaving no room for mercy. You held your sword in a vertical position right in front of you, having the Yamato hit the flat blade of your claymore with enough power to have you and Vergil recoil a little from the impact.

Thankfully, your sword was sturdy enough to take a powerful blow from a legendary blade and its less than formidable wielder and not shatter. That was something you would remember later, for now Vergil attacked again and you defended, holding back a series of lightning quick attacks that required all your attention, strength and speed – as well as both of your hands holding your new sword in order to be able to avoid all of the attacks.

As expected, though, you hadn’t mastered your claymore yet. Your grip faltered in one of your hands, and Vergil’s predator eyes were quick enough to notice that and see a window of opportunity. Spinning the Yamato on his hand, Vergil gripped its hilt and used the butt-end to hit your hands and make you lose your grip on your sword.

As you tried to recover without losing too much of your stance, Vergil took the chance to spin around you – as you did before with him – and use the sheath of the Yamato to smack your back. A bit lower, and he would’ve smacked your ass – at least, he allowed you to keep a little of your pride, as you allowed him when you chose not to do that as well.

You immediately leaned the tip of your sword on the floor, side-eyeing your lover – only to find him with his head held high, that convinced expression he would always wear whenever he had the upper hand, along with a ghost of a smile you knew very well.

“Shall we continue…?” His words were crowned with his usual slight tinge of arrogance, as you turned around and adjusted your grip around the hilt of your sword. “Or will you finally yield and allow me to take care of those wounds?”

“As my lover, you should know, Vergil…” You sighed and snapped your neck from side to side, getting back into position to fight. He had to raise one of his eyebrows, ever so impressed with your resilience. “I do not yield.”

His only answer was a smile before your powerful attack, holding you back with the Yamato still sheathed, using one of his feet behind his body as an anchor so he wouldn’t fall over. Even in his wildest dreams, Vergil could never had imagined he would find someone who would give such flawless answers. Yes, he wanted to care for you. But how could he deny the fire he saw in you when you said such things? It was the same fire that kept him alive for so many years; the same fire that made him get back on his feet even when defeat was certain, when all hope was lost, and only death and blood were expected. The same fire that made Vergil defy all odds and save himself, over and over again.

He didn’t know how he had found you neither how he could deserve you, but he did hope you remained for as long as he could have you.

With another attack, he took the opportunity to unsheathe his sword, using both the blade and the sheath to defend himself from a string of attacks as ruthless as those he had attacked you before. You didn’t see an opportunity, but you knew Vergil relied on a few tricks up his metaphorical sleeves, so you acted quickly to do the same he did before – and with the hilt of your claymore, you weakened his grip on the sheath, quickly spinning your sword and hitting it with all your might, making the blue sheath fly across the training ground. Vergil immediately held Yamato’s grip with both of his hands, trying not to let his surprise show on his face.

You could see it in his silvery eyes, though. You already knew how to expertly access them, to find Vergil’s emotions underneath the icy façade he used to wear. You had an advantage that made your heart swell and bolstered your resolve – and that Vergil was also able to read in your eyes. He fought back, putting a little more of his strength and power into a few riposte attacks, stopping your advances and making you fall a few steps back.

It wouldn’t be fair if he started using his demonic might when your body was almost giving out – but Vergil had to recognize you were lasting a lot longer than he expected. He thought, by now, your physical body wouldn’t be able to keep going, completely unrelated to your willpower. But there you were, proving him wrong – and making him fall even more in love with you, if that was even possible.

Your hands trembled a bit, though. You kept your eyes locked in his, reading his every move, his every emotion – and Vergil did the same, as if your fight didn’t rely on your swords anymore. As he got ready for another devastating attack, your sword found his in the air and, spinning your blades together, you brought them down with a flick of your wrist, having them rest together a few inches inside the ground.

You turned your back for a few seconds to catch your breath, pain starting to ebb through your arms. Vergil took some steps back in amazement, since that move was a first: you had never taken a break from a fight by disarming him as well as yourself, even if for a few seconds; you only asked with words and it usually took a few minutes. He observed you carefully – part of him reading if your body was going to give out and part of him reading if you would jump on him unexpectedly. Vergil didn’t know what to expect, but he could feel his blood tingling at his fingertips, ready to take action with whatever it is that you had for him.

After a few seconds, you immediately turned around, locking your hands around the grip of your sword once more and lifting it from the ground. Vergil couldn’t believe you still wanted to fight – and even win – but mirrored your speed and had Yamato back in his grip once more.

A few more attacks. He could see your hands trembling. A few more steps. He could hear your shaking breaths. A few more swift moves. He could see the relentless fire inside your eyes.

Vergil didn’t make it easier because of your crumbling endurance – if you broke, it would serve as a lesson on assessing your own energy and how far you could go. As you knew right from the start, Vergil wasn’t a forgiving mentor and would push you to your limit – he didn’t exactly expect you would do the same thing with yourself as he did to himself in order to improve his fighting to perfection.

A flick of his wrist. A powerful move from your hands. You found yourselves drenched in sweat, in the middle of your training space, the Yamato touching your neck, and your claymore touching the skin on Vergil’s throat.

You had your eyes locked into his silvery gaze, the gleaming blades of your swords ignored as the only thing that dictated that fight was your willpower – yours and Vergil’s. As you looked into each other’s reflections, you stated something you didn’t have to say out loud to be understood: neither of you would ever yield.

As that knowing reached Vergil’s heart, that was only one thing he could really do – something his logical mind and demonic pride could never fathom as the proper response to that situation, but his human heart burned to have him do it. His free hand cupped your face, pulling you into an immediate kiss.

When your lips found his, you used your free hand to anchor yourself in place by holding the back of his neck, pulling Vergil towards you. It was a kiss that burned with the very same fire he saw in your eyes, the one he mirrored in his soul and rarely let out as something other than willpower to keep on surviving. That fire was a will to live, a will to keep going, a will for life… A lust to experience, to burn bright and intensely, to take everything existence had to offer. A lust you could only safely explore with each other, not having to channel that only into surviving, but also into living life as it should be lived.

One of the things Vergil would always tell you, was to never let your guard down. You could be calm and collected, apparently unprepared, but always aware of your surroundings – and ready to kill at every waking moment.

Anything could be a distraction, anything could be a weakness. Being that close to you, in the middle of a fight, with that whirlwind of emotions stirring like a lightning storm that had to have its energy released somehow… Even if you had your sword still in one of your hands as he had Yamato in his, your blades were lowered - you had your grip almost letting go, ready to forget it on the floor.

You had your guard down.

“A demon would have killed you by now.” Vergil’s voice was but a rough whisper as he broke the kiss, his lips barely away from yours, hot breath still ghosting on your skin.

“A demon wouldn’t have kissed me.”

Both of your swords found the floor in unison, as your hands found each other with your lips locking in another breathless kiss.

Fortunately, you were both imperfectly human.

[saintship]

can you do some fluff about daryl not wanting to admit that he is jealous plss👀👀

hehehe absolutely

Daryl Dixon x gn!Reader

TW: THAT EPISODE WHERE CARL IS IMPLIED TO SURVIVE ATTEMPTED SA, I probably misquoted a few lines from the scene I used for this fic

just for clarification i used this scene/backstory so that it made sense why reader, abraham and daryl were sharing a space

Other warnings: s4!spoilers, violence, swearing, brief upsetting imagery, kissy kissy, sex joke, you can tell I also love Rick

You knew the fall of the prison was worse than you could've predicted, but you never prepared to be separated from everybody. Every inch of these woods looked the same, and the summer heat hadn't fully let up. The air felt like cobwebs, your collar sticking to your neck with sweat and your skin itching with filth. It was disorienting being alone again, not having Rick to bother or Judith to sing softly to. But the worst was the absence of him. Every campfire, every fresh kill, every sip of river water reminded you of Daryl, and how much better he was likely surviving the wilderness. The thought of never seeing him again made you want to scream. And when you did see him again, he seemed to think the same.

You'd found Rick, Michonne and Carl first, grateful to see the three of them alive. Carl was sleeping soundly in the parked car, Rick and Michonne sitting by the extinguished fire and talking quietly while you scanned the woods, not liking how little visibility there was. Your suspicions turned out to be justified when you looked back to see Rick and Michonne at gunpoint, your hand flying to your holster before another man snatched it from your hand, the barrel of a pistol pressing into your temple. You could hear his thick breathing, the supposed leader looking up from where he pointed his weapon at Rick's head. Carl was dragged from the car, pinned onto his stomach.

"You leave him be!" Rick grated, seething as the man atop Carl reached for his belt buckle. Your heart dropped, nausea building in your throat until you couldn't control your voice.

"Get off of him!"

The whip of your attacker's pistol made you see stars, your knees buckling until they hit the gravel, the man's pistol now digging into the crown of your head. His voice was dark, almost inhuman.

"Quiet."

You panted, the roaring in your ears barely ceasing in time to hear the threats of the man behind Rick.

"First, we'll have the boy.. then the girls.. and then you."

Anger and fear roiled in your gut. After so many times you cheated death, this is how it ends? A bunch of psychos and a pedophile? You grit your teeth as the pain in your head throbs, opening your eyes when a painfully familiar voice sounds in your ears.

"Wait."

You stare in disbelief as Daryl steps into the road, one hand held in front of him. Disgust is the first thing you feel, before you see his face. He wasn't one of them and you knew it. Your eyes meet, and you exhale shakily.

"He's good people."

The man behind Rick laughs deeply.

"Oh is he? My friend would disagree, but he can't, you see, because this man strangled him in a bathroom." His voice grows sharper, Rick's eyes shutting in preparation.

"Look, you want blood...I get it." Daryl's voice is uncharacteristically soft, but you knew well enough it was because he was scared. Scared he wouldn't be able to stop this. Scared he'd survive to see everyone else dead.

"You want blood...take it from me." He spread his arms slightly, at which the leader chuckles.

"You see, Daryl...you said this man is good people. But he killed my friend. You lied.. you liar."

Confusion fills you as a few of the leader's lackeys gather around Daryl, until one knocks him to the ground, his head smacking the gravel. Your scream catches in your throat as you force it down, knowing it won't help. Forced to watch as he takes hit after hit, the men's boots striking his ribs and legs. You look at Rick, his eyes wild as they meet yours. They seem to ask for something, some kind of clearance to harness that anger he keeps tucked away. But now wasn't the time to be the bigger person. You nod.

Rick's head throws backward, the leader's gun going off but missing his head. You twist around in the moment of distraction, pointing your assailant's pistol upward and blowing a bullet between his eyes. Daryl gets the upper hand on one of the men wailing on him, and you take out another with the stolen pistol, smacking the third in the temple and watch him crumple, unconscious. Daryl makes work of the original attacker before you haul him to his feet, your eyes meeting only briefly before you see what that small, sick part of you was waiting for.

Rick, broiling with rage, yanks Carl's attacker off of him, Michonne gathering Carl in her arms as you hold up Daryl. Rick cries out like an animal, impaling Carl's attacker again and again with a large hunting knife. The sounds are abhorrent, and you're glad Michonne covers Carl's eyes, but you share a dead-eyed observation with Daryl, both of you sharing a sick satisfaction that blankets the smell of blood in the air.

The next morning was quiet, the earth crunching under your feet as you make your way back to the road with the two rabbits you'd managed in the early hours of sunlight. Daryl's crossbow hangs off your shoulder, the piece of him that you get to carry with you making you feel warm. You come out of the tree line to see Daryl sitting with Rick against the car, Rick's arm around his shoulders. You were glad they had each other, especially now. Daryl looks up to see you, eyeing your fresh kills.

"Not bad. For a beginner." If he wasn't so prickly, he'd smile with his face, but you can see it in his eyes.

"High praise. Asshole." You retort, tossing the crossbow, which he catches.

"You know how to skin' em?"

"I've lived this long, don't you think I figured it out?"

He tsks, standing up.

"Not on your own."

"I only found Rick and Michonne a few days ago." You sit down to prepare the rabbit. He tilts his head.

"You were by yourself? After the prison?" His tone is less condescending, a flicker of concern flitting through his eyes.

"As lonesome as my senior prom."

Daryl rolls his eyes, Rick cracking a smile as he sits opposite you.

"That right?" Rick's accent peeks through in his exhaustion.

"Mhm." You carefully spear the rabbit meat, placing it over the fire as Daryl stars preparing the second. Carl and Michonne joined soon after for the, frankly pathetic, meal, before you set out again. There was talk of a town called Terminus. 'Sanctuary for all'. You shared a skeptical glance with Daryl at the proposition. It wasn't long ago that a certain other 'sanctuary' went up in flames. But it was better than eating a rabbit leg, so you didn't argue. You sat pressed close with Daryl in the now cramped car, touching his bruised eye gently.

"M'fine." He says softly, but he doesn't stop you from touching his cheek gently.

"I know.." you murmur. "I know."

The group slowly found each other again, although it was at the cost of another flirt with death. Nearly watching the group be letted like pigs, meeting a new group of people supposedly protecting a man with a cure, and Carol saving the day should not have all happened in the span of an afternoon. You understand more and more every day why Rick is going gray so fast, but the sight of Carol and Daryl reuniting was worth it, and you couldn't stop the tears when she pulled you in too. The real waterworks started when you saw Judith, alive and safe in Rick's arms again. Daryl nudged you, and you wiped your eyes.

"Shut up.."

"Losin' your edge?" He murmurs.

"Definitely.." You smile faintly, looking in his eyes. "You and I never got that.. emotional reunion, so.."

He kicks at the ground absentmindedly.

"Guess so."

It felt better to be on the road with a group; the constant chatter was better than focusing on the distant gunfire or faraway groans of walkers. One of the unfamiliar group members was chatty in particular, Abraham. He was a douche, but it surprised you how observant he was. He seemed to read everyone like a book, including you. He sidled up to you as the group was resting one day, giving you more tinder as you tended to the fire.

"Thank you." You murmur, not looking away from where you were practically ogling at Daryl fashioning arrows nearby. You burned your thumb in your distraction, cursing and flapping your hand slightly. Okay, maybe it didn't take a genius to see how you felt about him. Abraham kneeled by you, raising a brow as he pretended to stoke the fire.

"The archer, huh?"

Your hand stilled, clearing your throat.

"What?"

"You don't got to do the whole song and dance. We sure as hell ain't in high school."

You shift your weight, sighing.

"Sounds like you don't need me to elaborate."

"I don't know you folks, but that man ain't gonna catch a hint unless you punch him with it."

A faint smile tugs at your lips, oblivious to how Daryl was now observing the two of you and wondering why the hell you were smiling. What could that arrogant douche possibly be saying to make you smile? That handlebar stache was just-

"Fuck!"

Daryl swears sharply as the knife he was using to sharpen a makeshift arrow sliced into his pointer finger. You looked up, concerned, but he was already walking off, muttering something about...mustaches? Abraham was already gone, and the fire was looking big enough to leave alone, so you trailed after him, finding him at the edge of the nearby creek.

"Daryl? Are you alright?"

"What, are you my mother?" He snaps, and you blink in surprise.

"Okay, you don't need to bite my head off..."

"Why don't you just go back to that nice conversation you were having with the boy scout? Seemed like you found him pretty damn hilarious."

You didn't reply for a moment before realizing. Shit. You walk closer, seeing he's bandaged his finger.

"Daryl, I don't...that's not what's happening. I barely know him."

"Seems like you hit it off. Just leave me be, ain't you got someone else to bother?"

You bristled.

"Okay, enough. You don't get to be a dick just because you're jealous."

He looks at you like you just spit in his face, scoffing.

"Jealous?"

"I don't like Abraham! I don't even want to be his friend, he's ridiculous!"

"I don't care."

"Stop lying."

"I'm not!" He breathes a bit deeper, letting the silence simmer.

"Jus' leave me be." He mutters, walking off. You let him go, sighing in frustration.

Usually, the two of you would take first watch, but you spot Daryl nudging Glenn to accompany him instead, making you roll your eyes. How could a man like him be so petty? You avoided Abraham, his face annoying you even more than it did before this mess. He was right about one thing, though; Daryl would never be the first to crack. He's withstood things a lot worse than you, and he'd stay on his ship until it sank. But when he goes low, you go lower.

The next day, you make a show of going hunting alone with Abraham, making sure Daryl heard that he'd be teaching you to use his bolt action. He didn't say anything, but his snatching of his crossbow as he stormed off said everything for him. Immature? Sure. But Daryl teaching you to use a crossbow was the moment that made you realize he didn't just tolerate you. So the thought of another man behind you, instructing you quietly in your ear? You reveled in Daryl's rage. It wasn't actually what was happening, that much was clear when you and Abraham split up to 'cover more ground'. You were really looking for Daryl, knowing the areas he'd be likely to hunt in. You spot his kill before the man himself; a buck with a green-feathered arrow buried in its neck. Daryl glares as he emerges from behind a swathe of trees.

"S'mine." He gruffs.

"I'm not taking it.." You hold your hands up briefly. "Nice shot."

He doesn't reply to your compliment, removing the arrow from the buck. Okay, plan B.

"Abraham's a good shot too."

He stiffens, looking up at you dangerously. Your chest tightens in anticipation, but you continue.

"He taught me.. had a personal lesson. I wasn't holding it right, so he showed me.."

The innuendo wasn't missed by Daryl, and he straightened, his jaw twitching.

"You think you're funny?" He mutters.

You fake a confused expression.

"Funny?"

His hand twitches.

"You ain't cute."

You meet his eyes, swallowing your hesitation.

"Abraham thinks I'm cute."

Suddenly, he's in your space, not touching you, but certainly close. Your back touches a tree behind you, and it's like the forest around you fades, only his simmering brown eyes filling your vision.

"You better stop." He says, still depriving you of any touch.

You lift your chin slightly.

"I want you to make me stop."

He moves even closer, his hand finding your hip to hold you against his front.

"This what you want? Hm?" He taps your cheek when your eyes wander.

"Uh-uh. Look right at me. You fuckin' around?"

You swallow, shaking your head.

"I'm not...I just know you'd only do this if you were fired up..."

He squints, his jaw twitching.

"You weren't really doin' any of that with him." He states. You shake your head, confirming his discovery. He takes a few more breaths before palming your jaw, his calloused thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

"Good."

And then he's on you, kissing you deeply. It's sure and strong; not an ounce of doubt in how badly he's wanted to set things straight. Your hands hold his face carefully before one trails to his hair, combing it through your fingers. He groans at the sensation, his tongue slipping into the kiss. He steps even closer so his weight presses you to the tree comfortably, panting between kisses before finally resting his forehead on yours. His voice is soft.

"Crossbow suits you better'n a rifle.."

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes—sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[beegalactica]

How to be an A* Student in 2025

2025 is the year of THE academic comeback, but it's not just a comeback, it's a full academic GLOW UP. The best part about these tips is that this is not meant to be short-term, this is meant to help you create long-term hot girl habits that will help you year after year after year.

Imagine being a student is like training in the gym: if you want to see long-lasting results, you don't go to the gym for a while and then drop off and get lazy, so why do we see studying as a long-term chore, when it's a long-term privilege?

So many people worldwide dream of having an education, but do we really want to waste it all by scrolling on social media and rotting in bed? I don't think so.

Get organised: Get your notes in order. Turn a subject topic into a cheat sheet or revision booklet. Update your notes after each class. Get your homework out of the way as soon as possible. Create a list of all your topics for each class and rate each topic Red/Orange/Green based on how confident you feel - when it's time to study, start with the red topics.

Create a schedule: If you like things being super organised down to the last detail, try time-blocking and schedule specific time slots to complete your tasks. If you like being more flexible and fluid, set subjects to focus on each day and write a rough to-do list (I set one main task per subject). Make sure you do the subjects that you hate more than you do the ones you like, revising is meant to be uncomfortable, that's how you train your brain and overcome challenges.

Stick to it: Use the Pomodoro technique if you struggle to sit down and start. Start on a 5-minute break to train your brain to slowly stop what you're doing and get started. I would recommend 25/5 repetitions but if you're like me and can deep work for hours with full concentration, do what works best for you but do not end up working for hours without breaks or water. Make sure you take breaks to move around, hydrate and rest your brain and eyes.

Just sit down to start: if you really struggle with procrastination, set up all your work, put your phone away, and just stare at your work - that always gets me to start working because I get bored.

Prioritise long-term gains: Top students focus on studying little and often rather than cramming the night before. This can be 1 hour a day for 5 days prepping for a test vs 5 hours the night before. If you have a period where you don't have any tests right then, but you know you have a long-term exam coming forward, why not spend just 15 minutes to make sure your notes are organised? Always think about the big picture. The topic might not be the most important thing right now, but you know it will be important in the final exam, so if you have some downtime, why not make sure you're confident in it?

Work-life balance: Whilst it's good to be an academic weapon, your social life doesn't have to suffer at the same time. This is why scheduling is so important - it helps you utilise your time efficiently, and limit how much time you waste trying to decide what to study, so you can have more time to spend on things you love. Dedicate 1 hour a day to something you love to do and make sure you do it!

Find what works for you: Experiment with different techniques. Just because one technique works for one subject doesn't mean it will work for another. Just because it works for even just one topic doesn't mean it will work for another. Don't be afraid to switch things up and curate your study habits to suit your tastes. Always remember - the only person it has to make sense for is YOU.

Let me know if you would like more tips or a more in-depth explanation about any of these! I am really passionate not only about education but also about how we can all harness it to become well-rounded people. I have also been a straight A/A* student my whole life so I have many tips to share!

[iznyangwoni]

DEMON HUNTERS | enhypen smau !

chapter four

For the first time in your life you’re glad the staff took your phone. You tried to not let it show too much, but it was getting harder and harder to not focus on the hate and overall cheating from fans. It was making you go insane, actually.

So, having a full day just for you and the girls was so, so therapeutic. It started with you three going on some rides, then the sauna, then you got great food and now it is time for Rei to film her own part of the video. You wanted to take this time to go and skate with Liz, but she’s already sleeping in the car. You decided to not disturb her, after all you all have been working nonstop, both as idols and hunters.

Its been so long since you’ve actually skated, its not like you’re the best at it, but it has always been something that helped you take your mind off things for the time being. You don’t expect anyone to be inside the skating ring, since your company actually rented the place for the whole day, so you get surprised when you see a guy going for some rounds.

You don’t think too much about it, its probably someone who entered by mistake. You sit down just to change your shoes, after all this time you still find yourself smiling at the memories going through your head, you always used to go skating with your mother when you were little. You sit there for a while, waiting for the young man to finish, or at least notice your presence, but he also seems in his own world.

You subconsciously stare at him, he’s mesmerizing, in a sense. You’ve never had the talent, but you have seen enough competitions to recognize it, and this guy is surely a skating genius. Even this far you can tell he’s handsome, the pale skin almost shines inside the ring, and then he’s tall and the dark hair frame his face so neatly even though he’s been moving for a while.

It hits you when he finally looks your way, you’ve seen him before, of course you did. He’s one of them, one of those demons. The revelation stuns you, demons can’t have talents, or hobbies, that’s for sure. When he smiles you notice how his fangs are a little pronounced, and you hate yourself for thinking of that as attractive.

You don’t know what to do, you’ve been staring at a demon for at least fifteen minutes and didn’t even know. Before he can get closer, you hide behind the plastic wall of the ring, which isnt the smartest thing to do anyway. You find it hard to breathe, these demons are making all of your beliefs sound like lies. You thought they only acted according to gwima, you know they do.

His laugh takes you by surprise, he’s standing on the other side of the ring, his arms crossed and resting on the half wall, staring down at you. From this distance he looks even more attractive, and once again you want to slap that thought out of your brain. “So you’re the type to stare? Kinda creepy.” Are you blushing? You sure hope you aren’t.

“I’m not- I wasn’t staring I just…” For god’s sake, you’ve never felt more embarrassed your whole life. You clear your throat, and awkwardly get up from that awful hiding spot. Even face to face he’s too tall for you. “What’s a demon doing here, exactly?” You try your best to get your confidence back, even if you’re way too embarrassed right now, he doesnt have to know that.

“Sunghoon.” He says it so simply that it takes you a moment to process. “My name is Sunghoon, so you can stop calling me ‘demon’, it’s not so polite.” He’s calm, way too calm and with that smile still on his face, you don’t even realize you havent summoned your weapon to fight him. And honestly, it doesn’t look like he wants to fight either. But then the thought of Liz sleeping in the van all alone and Rei filming on her own hits you. If he’s here then that must mean the others are too.

“Where are your friends? I swear if they touch Liz or-“ Before you can spiral and summon your sword, his voice cuts through. “They’re just filming. They won’t hurt your friends.” Once again, something in his demeanor makes you want to believe him and relax. It makes you wonder, just a couple of nights ago Heeseung was telling you about winning and taking over, but now they’re just… filming? Like a normal group?

You’ll fry your brain trying to figure out their plan, and to think that you went here just to relax. Still, Sunghoon might sound truthful, but you don’t have the gut to trust him. You sit down again, feeling the need to change your shoes back and go find the others. “C’mon.. you don’t trust me?”

“It’d be dumb of me to trust a demon like you.” You hear him sigh, then he jumps out of the ring, you don’t look up when he sits besides you, you can feel your whole body stiffen. You don’t know why you’re reacting this way, if it were Heeseung or Jungwon you would’ve already slit his throat already. Maybe he has some sort of magic? Nah, Seulgi would’ve warned you about it that when training you. “You and your friends are not our goal. If any of you were to die we wouldn’t have any fans to steal.”

As much as you hate to admit it, that sounds about right. They want your fans, your popularity, and judging by how the honmoon has been breaking day by day, they’re succeeding. Maybe you haven’t been thinking about this the right way, and right now you can barely even think when he’s sitting so close to you. When you finally look up, he’s smiling genuinely. “So? Do you still want to skate?”

Surprisingly, you nod.

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[heretohavenone]

Okay. I've been pondering Jack Slash for a bit. Slimy basted he is, and Number Man, the weirdo HE is. I've come to a couple conclusions after reading through Worm and most of Ward (working on it you'll all be getting my dog gruel opinions on it after) and some of Jack's Backstory via Wildbow posts. First I'll talk about Jack, since he needs more piecing together, for me at least.

Jack Slash is essentially a grifter/shitty salesman when he's speaking 99% of the time. Hes trying, almost without even putting up an act to get you to believe there is some philosophical point he's reaching towards, or some reason why what he's doing means Anything greater than just plain old being a dick. He'll put on different hats to tell you Why he's killing, but in the end, the only thing he wants is to make the world worse and to cause conflict. And that's it. 100%, honestly it. He'd probably kick a puppy if he thought that'd actually help make more people do Worse things, and get him into more conflict. For almost his entire interlude he doesn't really think of himself in terms of what he gets in goals, he simply observes others and thinks of how to best pressure them to continue making things worse while under his control. I think its pretty evident from how much he throws himself into chaotic situations and tries to make things so complicated he can't keep up that Control isnt really what hes most into.

Let's now put this into the context of his past, and more importanty, what Shards want. His past is pretty interesting: locked in a bunker by abusive parents, and told the world had gone to war. They told him a story about how bad everything had gotten, kept him in there for a Long Long time, and he triggered when he left the bunker and he realized it was a lie. Specifically, the thing that broke him wasn't the fact that his parents lied to him. It was that the world was Sane, and Safe, and Not at war. Something he'd grown used to, and absorbed into himself while in that bunker. Essentially, he torn apart by the fact everything was Okay when he was convinced utterly that it had all gone to shit, and people were in senseless conflict like he thought. His worldview got flipped, everything felt wrong, and he triggered. He only thinks the world makes sense In conflict, he had the ability to really process a healthy, constructive world severely damaged to him when he was young.

Jack's desire for conflict make a little more sense with that, but his shard Loving his ass makes a hundred times more sense. He's literally trying to cause humanity to act divided, just like the Shards want, and to create conflict testing. No wonder it likes him so much, that's about as ideal a host as any shard could net, ever. Its like a weapon tester finding a group of suicidal combat junkies. Like. Exceptionally lucky. So Jack is rewarded for his instincts by things Working for him, and gets in a loop of conflicts that are their own reward by making the world as horrible as he thought it was, and making him Comfortable. It's his natural environment. Anything actual push to be constructive and grow attached probably feels alien to him, or just gets contextualized as a tool to create conflict, because he no longer really would know how to do anything but be a grifting jackass hurting people. Even his games are shows of this, every rule meant to be broken and unfair, because you're supposed to stop thinking about them as Rules and more like tools to fuck eachother over. The game Is cheating the game. The point isnt anything he says, it's trying to Kill him.

This is what makes his relationship to Number Man maybe the top five ????? Things when I first read it. He liked the person who's entire sociopathic, utilitarian goals were: Helping The World and Making Order. Seemed contradictory, but Jack did like him as a person, not necessarily his philosophy. Still. They're people who think back on each other fondly, despite what they've become. While Jack doesn't know Where Number Man went, he's not being hunted or hurt or even being pitied for not following conflict like Jack.

They seem to be like Wildbow's fucked up little views on systems and those who take them down rather than working on them, which I disagree with, but they're still fascinating. As much as Number Man is a monster like Jack, who would do everything Jack does if given reason to by finding it the best way to improve people's lives, Number Man is mature by trying to be constructive with his views on what is and is not important, while Jack is purely deconstructive of everything. Their similarity though is how they both seek out their version of thing purely for their own satisfaction, and that's the reason they both seem to admire eachother. Theyre both entirely selfish people.

They're also, hilariously, both killed by people who are both out-doing them in their field. The only Parahuman who hurt Jack Slash was Gray Boy, someone who didn't care about anything but his own selfish ideas of fun who found Jack 'boring', and a disappointment, and that Might have actually thrown Jack off enough it let Gray Boy hit him with a time loop. Number Man got factored in as an uncared for number in Contessa's plan to defeat Teacher. I'm very curious if this one of Worm's few narrative punishments for both's wrong deeds, or just coincidence. Whichever, it's pretty interesting to look at these two freaks' dichotomy in terms of the story, and what Caulron does vs what those who fight against systems in the story do.

But, I like Jack Slash tbh. Cartoonishly evil as he is, he wasn't really didnt do anything else than what he sent himself out to do, and he CLEARLY enjoyed himself while doing it. And Number Man took some time to grow on me, but I also enjoy how he's kind of the opposite in how he shows himself to be very simply then pulls some marble slingshot bullshit to lobotomize someone a mile away.... OKAY I'm still a lil shocked by that.

[leahkentwriter]

Backstories for girls and women in stories that *don't* involve sexual assault.

I beta read a lot, and am involved in writing communities of various kinds, and I briefly taught English way back in the day, and I consume storytelling media in general - and one of my biggest pet peeves is sexual assault backstories. While I think this is improving, it's still annoying to me that a lot of writers (of all genders, but particularly men) fall back on a sexual assault backstory whenever they need to make a girl or woman in a story complicated or haunted or fucked up in some way.

Unless your story is dealing with the topic of sexual assault in some way, please don't use it as a way to give a character depth or angst.

Here are some prompts, just to get you started with some ideas.

Why would a woman be trying to escape her past? Why would she be seeking a fresh start?

She hated her small town; the people there didn't understand her and she never felt like she fit in - she's queer, she has a weird birthmark, she's got unique interests, she has magical powers, etc.

She's a criminal - she robbed banks or stole cars and she wanted a fresh start

She was an addict and hurt people, and she wants a fresh start now that she's sober

Her parent is a criminal or an addict and she's trying to outrun the stigma of being related to them

She didn't get along with a stepparent and skipped town as soon as she turned 18

She had big dreams of being something else, and left to pursue them

Her childhood home was haunted, but no one believed her

She got married young then divorced, and wants to start over somewhere that no one knows her

Heartbreak of any variety - she's leaving a place that reminds her too much of someone she lost or couldn't have

She wants better; maybe more money, or a career, or simply a higher quality of life

Some other violent tragedy occurred - a school shooting, an explosion at the plant, police brutality, her best friend was killed, etc.

Her hometown no longer exists (climate change, the main factory shut down, it was overrun by rabid squirrels, etc.)

What would make a woman distrustful of others?

Heartbreak; being lied to, cheated on, left for her best friend, etc.

A big betrayal - her former best friend told everyone a secret about her, someone weaponized her trauma or her past or a major flaw she's sensitive about, etc.

She witnessed a traumatizing event as a child

Her mother was a grifter and used her as part of her scams

One parent cheated on the other and broke up the family

Her older brother isn't dead after all, he was disowned for being gay and now she's questioning everything her parents ever told her

She has problems with her memory, and is never quite sure what the truth is

She's bad at reading people and has been taken advantage of

She finds out a dark secret about someone she loves and is having trouble processing it

She gradually comes to see that someone she idealized as a child is not at all what they seem

Someone she thought was a good, kind, and genuine person is arrested for a terrible crime

Spiritual abuse - the worldview she was taught was right turns out to be exploitative, represses women, etc., so she leaves

What would cause a woman to have mental health issues?

Any form of abuse - doesn't have to be sexual

Her parents had really high expectations that she couldn't live up to

It simply runs in the family

Survivor's guilt - she survived something that someone else did not

She was bullied and no one protected her

Her parents were very controlling and destroyed her confidence

Her sibling was the golden child and she was the scapegoat

She's had issues since childhood but her parents refused to admit there was anything wrong with her, so she didn't get help

Being a part of any oppressed group of people who experience discrimination - she's a person of color, she's an immigrant, she's got a disability, she's queer, etc.

Any major trauma, either witnessed or being a part of - weather events and natural disasters, infrastructure collapse, crashes and accidents, fires, a shooting or a murder, etc.

You're a writer - get creative. There are lots of ways to traumatize and haunt a girl/woman character without having to resort to a sexual assault backstory. You can even make her the problem! Maybe she's the one who did something bad and is trying to outrun the guilt.

Let's also let go of the idea that it's meeting and falling in love with a man that saves her from her trauma. Let her have a healing arc that doesn't involve a man - a love story can still be there, but it can't be the magic healing balm that fixes her. Make her have to save herself. Give her autonomy to both make her own mistakes, and improve her own situation. Don't let your man go into savior mode - let him get frustrated with her. Let her push him away without him clinging to her in a desperate bid to show her what unconditional love is. Don't let him be a martyr to her trauma.

Women are complicated for many reasons. We have trauma for many reasons. We have mental health issues for many reasons. We may want to escape our past for many reasons. We're angsty and weird for many reasons.

Please pick literally anything other than sexual assault.

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Mission Gone Right (Clint Barton/Hawkeye x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Clint Barton/Hawkeye Reader

Word Count: 6482

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI!, Sexual themes, one bed trope, brief weapon mention, dirty talk, masturbation (fem), oral (fem and male receiving), nipple talk, kissing, pining, cum, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!)... let me know if I missed something :)

Request: Hello there! :) I really enjoy and love your writing, it's really good! I like the Steve Rogers: not so pure, and I was wondering if you could write something like that, but with Clint Barton/Hawkeye x reader? Thank you kindly and have a wonderful day! :) - Anon

Summary: You and Clint had been partners, and somewhat friends, for a long time. When you have to pretend to be a wedded couple in love to escape a tense mission, what could happen when the hotel room ends up with only one bed?

A/N: I decided to place this request in the OG Avengers era, I hope that's alright! Also, he's single in this universe because I don't want to write in cheating or give him a sad end to his marriage :(

As a hero without true "superpowers," you oftentimes got paired on missions with Hawkeye. This never bothered you, but it did seem odd that they would place you both together instead of having you each team up with a powered hero.

Not to say that you weren't strong in your own right; your skill with shuriken was near unmatched. Between your use of shuriken and your partner's use of bow and arrow, you were a fearsome duo.

"(L/n), Barton." Greeted Fury as you entered the briefing room. "Thank you for coming quickly."

"With all due respect sir," you said, "what else would we be doing?"

Fury sighed at your sarcasm, ignoring it as he continued.

"I have a mission for the two of you."

"What do you need, sir?" Asked Clint. Fury seemed to pause for a moment, as if he didn't want to reveal the details of the mission. Nevertheless, he began speaking again.

"We have a high profile target who we need some more information on."

"Uh, why the need for the pause then?" You asked. Fury would have rolled his eye had he not been so used to your bratty antics.

"Maybe, you should let me finish," he stated slowly. "We received intel alerting us that said target will be at a gala this evening, which is where the two of you will find him."

Reading between the lines, paired with your knowledge of the different types of missions offered by SHIELD, your eyes narrowed at Fury.

"You're sending us, who may I remind you are Avengers, on an undercover mission?" You asked incredulously. You knew that the two of you, along with maybe Nat, were the least recognizable of the group. Steve or Tony tended to get recognized the most, at least when Bruce wasn't in Hulk-mode. But still, it was like a slap in the face to assume nobody would recognize you at said event.

"The target may be at a gala, but he is incredibly dangerous. I don't trust our typical undercover agents with this mission."

You thought on Fury's words for a moment, mulling them over. Deciding that your ego was enough appeased, you nodded.

"So what do we need to know?"

Another agent spent time briefing you and Clint on the target; what he looked like along with any other pertinent information. The agent also explained to you that while you would be able to hide a few shuriken on yourself, Clint would have to go in bow-and-arrow-less. It's a pretty difficult weapon to conceal. Even with your shuriken being small, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide too many under whatever outfit SHIELD provided. You were beginning to understand why the mission was considered as dangerous as it was.

"There's one more thing you should know," said the agent. "To help conceal your identities, you are to pose as partners."

Clint coughed, seeming to choke on his own saliva. You just looked blankly at the agent.

"Are we not already?"

"I think they mean-" said Clint, rising his eyebrows as he motioned his head, trying to indicate to you his meaning without putting words to it. Suddenly understanding what he meant, you let out a small 'oh,' feeling your face heat. You have to admit the thought has crossed your mind before. Clint was an attractive man, and your line of work did tend to involve getting to look at him in a sleeveless outfit flexing his muscles all day. You never let it go further than that though, just thoughts.

Once all of the information had been provided, you and Clint were released back to each of your quarters to prepare for that evening.

"You know, Fury didn't mean it as an insult." Said Clint as the two of you walked together. You sighed.

"I know, it's just that I'm tired of being passed over."

At your words, Clint looked at you with something you couldn't quite place. Knowing your time to get ready was limited, you decided it wasn't worth thinking too much about it.

"Well, see you soon, hubby," you said with a fake salute, entering your room. Closing the door behind you, you missed the look on Clint's face at his new nickname.

Now alone in your room, you noticed the outfit SHIELD had arranged for you.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered as you grabbed the, admittedly little amount of, clothing. It was a dress, deep purple in color with just the right amount of shine to it. Even before putting it on, you knew it would leave little to the imagination. They were right when they said I wouldn't be able to bring many shuriken.

With hair done and makeup (if preferred) finished, it finally came time to put the dress on. It slipped on easier than you expected, and for as tight as it looked on the hanger it was rather flattering now that it was on you. It hugged your curves in a way that made just standing there look sensual. You were thankful to have been able to hide a few shuriken in a holster on one of your upper thighs, but a high slit up your other leg made hiding any others impossible.

You had to admit, you felt sexy. This was outside of your usual wardrobe, but whoever picks the undercover mission outfits should get a bonus.

A knock on your door tore you from your thoughts. You opened it, revealing a, rather attractive-looking, Clint Barton. Although he didn't have his arms exposed as usual, something about his change in attire was enticing. Again, whoever picks the outfits should get a bonus. The suit was fitted to Clint perfectly, somehow showing off his muscular physique while keeping him entirely covered.

Unbeknownst to you, Clint couldn't help but check you out as you did the same to him. The gentle curve of your hips, your exposed leg to your thigh, and your cleavage looking as it could spill right over the cups of the dress. Hell, he almost wanted them to.

"You look good," you tell your partner, trying to hide the fact that you had just ogled all over him. Thankfully, he was a bit too busy to notice.

"You too," he said, suddenly cocking a smile, "Wifey." You gave him a puzzled look. "What? You called me Hubby."

Forgot about that, you thought. I need to keep my head on straight if this mission is going to go well.

"Well," you said, jokingly looping your arm with his. "You lead the way."

Clint chuckled at your antics, but he did as you asked. He led you outside to the limousine SHIELD had prepared for the both of you. You got in, careful not to expose more than you wanted as you arranged your body into the vehicle. Clint followed, and despite the amount of room inside, he slid onto the bench seat next to you.

"I'm a method actor," he said with a wink. "And you're going to be my wife in about 30 minutes."

Rolling your eyes at your partner, you knew in your mind he was just being an ass. Yet, your mind began to wander against your will. You realize the night will not just mean looking good and standing in the same vicinity as each other. You had to convince a room of dangerous people that Clint and yourself were married. That meant physical contact, and plenty of it.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant thought, leaning against his muscular chest or feeling his strong arm around your lower back. The thought made your body heat, and as pleasant as it was it also made you incredibly nervous. You had never had trouble working with Clint, but something about the way your mind kept wandering worried you that you weren't at the top of your game. You needed to stay focused.

The 30 min ride began to feel much longer. A bit on edge, you began rhythmically drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited. Suddenly the drumming stopped, as you felt Clint's hand grab your own.

"You're driving me crazy," he said, irritation lacing his tone. "It's like clicking a pen."

Despite the anger in his tone, he didn't let go of your hand. He simply adjusted so he was holding more than grabbing. You didn't mind, you had to get into character too.

Finally arriving, Clint got out of the limo first before extending his hand back towards you to help you get out gracefully. Instead of letting go once you were standing, he instead interlocked your fingers.

"Let's go get this guy," he said with a raise of his eyebrows, "Babe."

Although you knew he was teasing because of the mission, you couldn't help the smile that rose to your face. Is this really all it took for you to lose your mind? Your colleague, and friend for that matter, just had to wear a suit and you lost it? Maybe you'd just been single too long, but that was something to deal with after this mission was over.

You and Clint made your way into the gala, staying close to each other. Not seeing the target yet, you decided to grab a drink and mingle.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" Asked the women who had struck up a conversation with the two of you.

"At work," replied Clint, taking the moment to smile down at you. You tried to suppress the flutter of your heart at his soft expression. "She just caught my eye." He was smart, using the truth as a way to embellish your cover. Clint wrapped his arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. You smiled back at him, batting your eyelashes.

"He's being modest, he's the one who caught my eye." You were laying it on thick, but you didn't really care. You had just spotted the target heading your way. You placed a hand on Clint's chest. This time, you didn't miss the way his expression faltered for a moment as his eyes flicked down to your movements. You pulled away, worried you had gone too far and made him uncomfortable. "I mean, just look at him."

As you finished your act, you noticed the target walk just past the two of you.

"Could you excuse us?" Asked Clint, politely exiting the conversation so the two of you could tail the man. You followed him from afar until he went through a doorway, disappearing behind it.

"Damn it." You whispered. Turning around, you found an unusual amount of eyes on you. Guards stationed around the room looked at the pair of you, and you noticed a few begin walking your way. "Clint, we've got trouble."

The two of you began making your way back through the crowd, trying to blend in. Regardless of your efforts, guards continued to slink your way.

"We've got to go," said Clint lowly. His hand made it's way to your waist, helping guide you through the crowd of people and towards the front door. Thankfully, your limo returned quickly so you could make your exit.

Clint helped you in, moving to join you. Before he could, a large, gloved hand grasped his arm.

"Where are you two off to?" Asked a gruff voice.

Shit.

Thinking quickly, you decided to use your given roles to your advantage.

"Excuse me?" You squealed. "Unhand my husband." The man's grip loosened, but he didn't fully let go. "What's going on?"

"Ma'am, what's go you both leaving in such as rush?" His eyes narrowed, not fully believing either of you. You did the only thing you could think of to get him off your back.

"What are you, a pervert?" You asked, playing up the bratty whininess in your voice. You used his moment of surprise to pull Clint towards you while the man's grip was weakened. "We're going somewhere more, private." You purred seductively, lathering it on thick as you gave Clint your best bedroom eyes. You ran a hand up his thigh as he took a seat next to you. "Right, Baby?"

Clint's voice was noticeably lower as he responded, "uh, yeah." Smooth, Barton.

You leaned in towards Clint, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. Damn he smelled good. Almost instinctively, his hands made their way to your hips. You couldn't deny it felt good. You peppered soft, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, hoping the guard would get the message and fall for the ploy.

"What, are you going to watch?" You asked sarcastically, the momentary pause of your actions allowing you to realize how tight Clint was gripping you, and how heavy his breaths were. Your words had the intended effect, with the guard seeming embarrassed as he let the door close. As soon as it did, the driver hit the gas.

You pulled back from Clint, the embarrassment hitting you. You felt your face heat up.

"Sorry," you said awkwardly, trying to chuckle to ease the tension. "It's all I could think of."

"It's okay." He replied, his words short. "It worked."

Great, you thought, now he's uncomfortable. No wonder, after all that.

The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence, still seated close. You did your best to give him the space you could, but your exposed leg still sat touching his. You may not have paid it much mind, but if you had dared to look his way you would have seen Clint's eyes glued.

A sudden ring stunned you both, and Clint answered the phone.

"Detective Fury?" He asked. He listened for a moment to whatever Fury was telling him, nodding slowly. "Well, uh," his eyes flipped to you then quickly away. "We had to play into our cover. Y/n may have told them we were..." He coughed. "Headed somewhere 'more private'."

Your embarrassment only heightened. Not only did you make Clint uncomfortable, but now your boss knows.

"Yes sir, I understand." Said Clint. Hanging up, he looked back to you. "We're being followed."

"Shit!" You exclaimed. One guard may have fallen for your trick, but the target must have sent someone after you to be sure.

"So," said Clint slowly. "Fury has booked us a hotel room. We're headed there now."

Your mouth fell open, eyes wide.

"What do you-"

"Not to do that!" Exclaimed Clint, his own eyes going wide. "Just so when they follow our car, it looks like we were telling the truth."

Your suddenly racing heartrate slows again.

"Oh, okay." Your breathing slows as well, calming back down. You rode the rest of the way to the hotel in continued silence, thankful Fury had found one nearby.

Arriving and getting out of the vehicle yet again, you were surprised when Clint pulled you to him.

"We've got to be believable," he whispered, hands on your hips pulling them dangerously close to his own. One hand trailed further down, resting on your ass. "Is that alright?"

Of course, even in a dire situation Clint would ask a question like that. You nod, tilting your head to give him access to your neck. You bit your lip as his own lips made contact with your neck, holding back a moan that threatened to come out. While you may have been pretending, it didn't mean his lips didn't feel excruciatingly good.

Too quickly for your liking, he pulled back. There was a darkness in his eyes looking down at you. He must be a great actor. You let him lead you along, grabbing the room key from the front desk. The group of men entering the building after you did not go unnoticed. You grabbed ahold of Clint's tie, using it to pull his face close enough to yours that you could whisper without being hear. Close enough too that if you wanted, you could put your lips on his.

"They're staking out the lobby," you whispered. "I think we'll really have to stay here."

You made your way up to the room, footsteps following the two of you. As you reached for the door handle, you felt strong hands grab you and press you next to the door instead. Clint's body was pressed close to your own, making your breaths shallow and your body heat up.

"Clint-" You whispered.

"Do you trust me?" He said lowly so that only you could hear. You nodded. Before you knew it, you felt soft lips press to yours. You let your hands wander, making their way to his hair. You let yourself kiss him back, with a feverishness that nearly shocked you. He may have been your friend, but all your mind flooded with now was the need to be close to him. Feel his body pressed to yours, lips staying locked together.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps trailing to the other side of you, passing convinced that you were really there for the reason you claimed. Once they finally passed, Clint reached behind you, unlocking and opening the door without letting his lips leave your mouth. He didn't pull away until the door shut behind you both, hearing the latch click.

When he did pull away, both breathing hard, you felt as if your lips became cold. You wanted him back on you.

"Sorry," he muttered huskily, doing little to quell the heat in your body. "I thought that might get them off our backs a little." You nodded in response, taking into account the hotel room. There was a moderate-sized bathroom, a small closet and a dresser complete with TV on top. And, there was one queen bed facing it.

"You can take the bed." Said Clint. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor, as long at you let me have a pillow."

You rolled your eyes, pushing down the sexual tension you felt. Clearly he must not be feeling it too, as he switched back to humor quickly.

"Don't be silly. We're both adults, and it's hardly a crime to sleep in the same bed. It doesn't mean we have to do more than that."

Though your words didn't come across quite as you hoped, worried it sounded like there was an option of doing more than sleeping, Clint did take a seat on the bed. You did the same on the opposite side. After a moment of comfortable silence, Clint stood back up.

"Is it okay with you if I hop in the shower?"

You gave him a puzzled look, "am I okay if you practice good hygiene? Let me think." You pretended to think really hard, making him chuckle.

"Point made."

As you heard the water turn on, you laid back on the bed. Your mind began to wander again, full of both want and worry. After one evening, and one mission gone slightly awry, your usually tame thoughts about your partner were running wild. What had you gotten yourself into? Hearing the shower run, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what could be on the other side of the wall. Your partner, your friend, taking off that beautiful suit to reveal what was underneath. The water running over his body, his muscles...

The water suddenly stopping jolted you from your thoughts. You tried to minimize the blush that was sure to be present on your face, grateful that he seemed to take his time drying off.

Opening the bathroom door, you stared as Clint walked out in just the suit's dress pants. Despite his best efforts to dry off, water droplets remained in his hair as they seemed to make him sparkle. Your eyes didn't remain at his hair, trailing lower to his exposed chest. The soft curves of his pecs, down to his abs, the beginning of a 'V' shape that dared you to follow it...

"So," he said. "We don't have luggage."

Shit, I hadn't even thought about that yet.

"As you know, I'm such a gentleman." He said playfully. "I don't want you to sleep in that dress, there's no way it would be comfortable." Your mind raced with a million thoughts of all the other options. "I propose you get my t-shirt from under the suit, and I sleep in the dress pants."

You nod at him, trying not to think about what he was suggesting. He wanted to sleep shirtless, and let you wear his clothes. Was it too late to tell him to sleep on the floor?

Not able to come up with a better option, you took the shirt he was offering and made your way to the bathroom to shower. Peeling the dress off your body, you decided to ignore the situation you were in and simply let yourself relax. Stepping into the warm water of the shower, you let it run down your head and shoulders. Closing your eyes to try and relax, it had the opposite effect.

Every time you shut your eyes, all you could think about was Clint. His hands, his lips, his body. How all three of those things would feel on you. To make matters worse, as you got more hot and bothered you pictured him even with your eyes open. Turning the water cooler, you hoped a cold shower would fix the problem.

It didn't.

Huffing, you washed your body and figured your thoughts weren't going away any time soon. The more you tried to stop them, the more they invaded your senses. As you scrubbed the soap across your body, you couldn't help but imagine someone else's hand.

Visions of Clint's hands running down your body played through your mind as your own hands trailed the same path. Ghosting lightly across your nipples, you bit your lip to stop the gasp in your throat. You imagined how his fingertips, calloused from years of notching arrows, would feel in place of your own.

Keeping one hand firmly at your breast, your other traveled lower and lower. A soft whimper escaped your throat before you could do anything to suppress it as your fingers made contact with your clit. Hearing nothing from the other side of the wall, you assumed Clint couldn't hear you over the sound of the shower water.

Your fingers continued circular motions at your entrance, feeling just how wet you had become. Soft moans fell from your lips, thinking the noise would be covered by the running water and bathroom fan that had been turned on to help ventilate humidity.

Besides, everyone knew hotel walls were never described as thin... right?

-Clint's POV-

He dropped to the bed with a deep sigh as soon as the door shut to the bathroom with you inside. He rubbed a hand over his face. What the Hell had he gotten himself into?

Sure, he had always found you rather attractive. And sure, that may have developed into something a bit deeper over the time he had gotten to know you. And maybe, he had been a little too excited when he heard about the details of the mission.

He thought he would be able to handle himself. Yet, here he was; grown man acting like a teenage boy unable to control his hormones and keep his hands to himself.

Listening to the shower water run, he tried to relax. Instead of remembering the way your hands grasped at his chest when he had kissed your neck. Not thinking about the way your lips moved against his in the hallway, how sweet they tasted. Pretending he didn't know what it was like to have your body pinned to his, having you whisper his name.

It had become the ghost of a mantra in is head. Your whisper from the hallway repeating again and again in his head.

Clint, Clint, Clint...

He couldn't help but imagine how else you could say his name. His mind bombarded him with a cacophony of sound. Could he make you moan his name? Scream it?

Feeling his dick twitch in his pants, he was playing a dangerous game. When you got out of the shower and exited the bathroom, he knew he couldn't be thinking this way. Just seeing you, twinkling with water droplets in your hair, his shirt adorning your body, would be enough to get him going again. He needed to calm back down.

He focused in to the sound of running water, trying to zone out. It had even begun to work. That was, until he heard it.

It was faint, and at first he thought it was his imagination again. But the noise persisted, to the point he stood and began slowly slinking towards the bathroom wall. As he got closer, there was no ignoring what he heard. You were moaning, and it was the most delectable sound he had ever heard. So much for calming down.

He staggered back to the bed, laying on his back and focusing in on your sounds instead of the water. There was no way to relax, that was sure. What could you be doing in there? He could only come up with one answer, and it drove him crazy. How he wanted to be with you, his hands feeling you up, his mouth capturing all of those beautiful noises.

Too soon for his liking, he heard the knob twist to and the water shut off. Adjusting himself in his pants, he hoped covering with the blanket would hide his arousal.

-Your POV-

You were frustrated, sexually and otherwise. Despite how you felt as if you were more turned on than you've ever been, you were left chasing your high. Realizing you had been in the shower for much too long, you had to get out. You didn't want Clint to worry and think something was wrong.

Getting out of the shower, you toweled off best you could. Pulling Clint's shirt over your head, you were glad you had worn nicer underwear under your dress that evening. His shirt may have laid big on you, but it still left the bottom halves of your butt cheeks exposed. You did the best you could to make yourself as presentable as possible.

With your best efforts, it still left the tops of your thighs and the gentle curve of your butt exposed. You had not needed to wear a bra with your earlier dress thanks to built-in cups, which you now regretted as your nipples lay pebbled under the t-shirt's material.

You crossed your arms in front of you as casually as you could as you twisted the doorknob and left the bathroom.

Thankfully, Clint had already laid in bed. He didn't turn to look at you which you were grateful for. You walked around the room preparing it for sleep, turning the AC to a comfortable temperature and making sure the door was secure.

Unbeknownst to you, Clint was following your every move as you turned around. He didn't know if he were lucky to get to see you, or unlucky as he was sure to picture you like this for the rest of his life. To be so close and not be with you was like torture. Your thighs teased him, t-shirt barely covering them and leaving your underwear-clad bottom within view. Your breasts were not constrained under the thin material, leaving little to his imagination as your nipples seemed to call to him. Everything about you looked to soft, and it took all of his self-restraint to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

Laying beside Clint, you were oblivious to the show you had just put on for him. His breathing was strained, which you attributed to the uncomfortably close quarters. You were not touching, but the bed forced you close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body. You knew that snuggling close to him would be like heaven, his warmth and his strong arms engulfing you.

Closing your eyes, you were glad for the stress of the evening. That stress left your mind tired, able to ignore your arousal for just long enough to lull yourself to sleep.

Clint was not so lucky. He laid awake, dress pants uncomfortably tight against his lower half. Noticing your sleeping state, he made a decision he hoped he would not regret. Moving slowly as not to disturb you, he inched the uncomfortable garment off his legs. Left in just his boxers, he was only moderately more comfortable. His length still remained uncomfortably contained.

Clint did his best to ignore you beside him, but you were making that incredibly difficult. In your sleep you had turned away from him, but moved ever closer. There was nothing he could think to do, and before he could come up with an idea he felt the plush of your ass up against his bare thigh. Of course, this did nothing to help his situation.

He tried to think of anything else he could. A previous mission, perhaps with dangerous details to remember as a way to lesson his mood. No matter the nature of the old missions, his memories always ended the same. You, smiling up at him with sparkling eyes as you completed the objective.

Another noise pulled Clint from his thoughts. It came from your direction. He felt your leg twitch against him, and he realized you must be dreaming.

A noise came from you again, and Clint was intrigued. The sound was muffled, and he couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. He had a preference, sure, but you could have been having a nightmare for all he knew.

Feeling your hips press you backside further into his leg as you made another sound, this time clearly a small moan, it was clearly no nightmare.

Clint's body was tense. His cock felt as if it grew impossibly harder as a result of your movements. There was nothing he could do, waking you up would only reveal that he had removed his dress pants and make him look like a perv. Instead, he took in the moment as he knew he may never get to hear your noises again.

Soft moans and whimpers fell from your lips, hips grinding back towards his body. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he restrained. At least, until he heard something that made him snap.

"Clint," you moaned with voice tantalizingly soft and sweet. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him in response. Last ounce of restraint now gone, he reached toward you. His hand found your hip, soft under his callouses. The two of you were practically spooning, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His lips moved to kiss up your nape, and he relished in how your moans followed his actions.

Looking up at your face, he was startled to see your wide eyes meeting his. Your pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Please don't stop."

Your whisper only urged him further, allowing his hand to slip higher under your shirt, his shirt, to grab your breast. Your moans only continued to spur him on, grinding his bulge into your backside. It both offered relief, and made him want even more.

You felt his hands across your body, even better than you had imagined. You pushed your ass backwards into him, matching his motions and feeling just how hard he was.

His strong hands suddenly flipped you to your back, Clint hovering above you. His lips found yours feverishly. You kissed him back as if you were starved, taking as much as he would give you. Moan after moan fell from your lips to his as he pressed his hardness against your cunt.

"Can feel how fucking wet you are," he groaned. "You been thinking about me?"

You nodded in return, but that wasn't enough for Clint. He wanted to hear you.

"What was that sweetheart?"

"Fuck, Clint," you sighed. "You're all I could think about all night."

His pride, and other things, swelled. His mouth trailed down to your chest, tongue finding a nipple as he swirled his tongue around it. His motions were rough, but his pace was slow. He pulled away as an involuntary whimper left your throat.

You felt his lips trail downward, oh too slowly. He pressed soft kisses across your inner thighs, making you curl your hips towards him in hopes he would quell the burning in the pit of your stomach.

He yanked your panties down only to replace them with his warm mouth. The initial contact almost made your scream as his hot breath fanned across the slick that had gathered between your legs. Cockily, Clint looked up to catch your eyes. With a wink, he held high contact while licking a slow stripe up where you were most sensitive. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as he began picking up the pace. Every flick of his tongue sent shivers down your spine and moans to fall from your lips. He ate at you greedily. It's as if he was a man starved, but that was of no complaint to you. You don't think there was any way he could touch you that would make you complain.

Heat continued pooling in your core, building with every motion Clint made. Even so, your orgasm caught you by surprise when he moved his hands to your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples with his tongue continuing to swirl around your clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh Clint," you moaned as you came, thighs squeezing on his head and hands in his hair. If this is how he died, he would be a happy man. As you came down from your high, Clint slowed and pulled away. He crawled back up to face you, kissing you harshly. You could feel your own juices on his tongue and along his stubble.

"On your knees," he muttered. His look was dark, and you obeyed. As you kneeled, you looped your fingers around the waistband of his boxers to pull them down with you. He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand.

You couldn't keep your eyes off his cock as it sprung free. Precum glistened the tip.

Tentatively, you leaned forward to lick the underside. Clint's groan emboldened you, taking the head into your mouth and swirling your head across the tip. Clint bucked his hips into your mouth, guiding you with his hand on the back of your head yet careful not to push you too far. You fell into a rhythm, bobbing your head on his cock as he groaned. Moaning around his cock, you felt his legs tense and dick twitch as the vibrations rang through him.

"Look at me," he demanded. "Want to see your eyes while I fuck your pretty little mouth."

You did as he asked, not knowing Clint had those words in him.

"There you go," he said quietly, "good girl." The words made you moan again around his cock.

That's new, you thought.

"Gonna fucking ruin you." He pulled out of your mouth, leaving your mouth open following his action. "Love the way you suck my cock baby. Your mouth feels so fucking good honey but now you're gonna give me your dripping pussy, alright?"

He flipped you over to your stomach, grabbing your hips to pull them into the air. You arched your back for him, and he paused to take in the sight.

"Damn baby, you're fucking soaked for me." You shivered as a finger ran along your folds. You pushed your hips back towards the feeling, needing more. "You like this baby? Want me to touch you like this?"

"Want, more," you whimpered.

"What do you want?" He asked sensually, lazily pushing a finger in and out of your entrance. "Tell me what you want me to do baby."

"Want you to fuck me, Clint." You whined. "Please fuck me. Want to feel you so fucking far inside me." Something about the usually mild-mannered, sweet Clint talking so dirty to you had something waking in yourself as well.

He wasted no time at your words, lining up with your entrance and slowly pressing into you. Your gummy walls welcomed him, tight and warm and clenching as he eased in.

"Fuck," he mumbled, feeling how tight you were just halfway in. "You feel so fucking good around my cock baby. Almost there." Giving you time to adjust to his size, he waited until he felt you squirming to move further again.

Whimpering as you pressed back against him, your mind felt like exploding. His dick stretched you so deliciously. You knew what was about to happen would ruin you for any other man, not wanting to ever feel anything but the man you had now.

Clint's pace picked up, leaving you a mess underneath him. You could barely think straight, only able to focus on the sliding of his cock in and out of your squelching cunt. You were thankful for his hands gripping your hips, legs turning to jelly.

You murmured a string of something resembling words, unable to do much more than moan and enjoy what Clint was doing to him. Grunts fell from his mouth, beautiful sounds as they layered with the wet slapping sounds echoing throughout the room.

"Take my cock so well," he grunted. Suddenly pulling out, you whimpered at the rapid lack of contact. Before you could react more, he flipped you over and pressed back in. Filling you up again made you scream at the overwhelming pleasure. "Who knew he had this in him? "Want to see your pretty face when I cum inside your pussy, hm?"

Just the thought made your head fall back with another moan as he continued to fuck you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, mesmerizing to Clint unable to take his eyes off of you.

" 'M so close baby," he groaned. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him close and looking up into his eyes.

That was the last push he needed, thrusts faltering as his seed shot into you. His grunts turned to moans, needy as he continued to thrust deep into you as he came. Staying inside, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead against your own.

"Yea," you replied breathlessly. He pulled back, dazed smile matching your own.

After cleaning you both up, he laid back in bed to allow you to snuggle close to him.

"I think that's the most I've heard you swear," you giggled, "maybe ever."

He chuckled in response, squeezing him closer to you.

"It's not my fault you feel so fucking good then."

Drifting off to sleep again, you wouldn't think about how the mission debrief would go until morning. After all, you're sure this is far from the last time you and Clint would end up like this.

[beifong-brainrot]

Been an Asami apologist since day 1. And I quite enjoy the recent Asami resurgence around here. I remember when Asami was damn near considered Public Enemy #1 in the fandom because she was seen as getting in the way of the Makorra ship.

I think it's because her suffering is rather silent compared to everyone else around her. But she also falls under that "chose to be good despite having valid reasons to crash out" bracket like Bolin and Mako does.

Her life is just as chaotic as all the others, but she handles it quietly and gracefully. And she's never really seen as being messy (like Korra), which is I think a lot of people are torn between liking and having her. Because yes, she handles things well, but it can come off feeling........I guess, patronizing to some. Like "oh,look how well she's handling her trauma compared to her friends".

I understand the "but she's rich" criticism from some, but........does that mean she suffered less? Trauma is trauma, regardless of background. Losing her mom, then having to clean up her father's mess at barely 18, rehabilitating her family's legacy, losing said father, dealing with the chaos of her boyfriend essentially cheating on her with the most powerful person in the world.............all while under media and public scrutiny? And somehow not losing her mind? Truly stronger than any Marine.

Ok, anon, I see your point. And look, I don't begrudge you liking Asami and finding her interesting. Hell, I quite like Asami. She's a decently fun character, she's fun in fight scenes, smart, capable, and she's got some surprisingly good comedic scenes too.

Also, eh, not aure about that silent suffering thing? Like yeah, Asami is good at compartmentalising her trauma, but she gets a lot of solid scenes with Hiroshi, both when they're enemies and when they're mending their relationship. Her entire subplot in B2 is her trying to keep her company afloat. And the show never shies away from showing her distress and sorrow. Compare this to how the bending bros barely get any scenes in which they talk about their homelessness or the death of their parents that isn't made into a joke.

Also its so funny how ship wars just ruin everything for a character because I see a lot of Mako hate now because of Korrasami.

And yeah, Asami being wealthy doesn't take away from her suffering. I don't think I ever implied that in my tags on that post.

I wasn't trying to play the trauma olimpics here, I was talking about how Asami is an uninteresting character from my perspective. And the fandom routinely disregards how complex and interesting Mako and Bolin are. Like Bolin at least just gets to be the comic relief himbo but Mako has kinda been getting dragged through the mud in recent years.

Personally, to me, the reason Asami just didn't connect with me is that she kinda just... is there? She's kinda the most static character in the show. Other than her dad getting arrested, there are no changes to her lifestyle and approach to life. She's still rich, she's still nice, she's still cool af 👍

It also doesn't help that she just seemingly just. Doesn't have any flaws or has done anything wrong in her life. And I know it sounds like I'm going "ugh she's so perfect and i hate that 😡".

But like, characters having flaws, or at least having some complexity to them is what makes us find them compelling. Asami feels like a character with little weight to her actions. She is not displayed with any guilt over betraying her father, she's never shown to have any second thoughts about supplying weapons to a party in a civil war (and even Varrick had a "hey maybe war profiteering isn't cool" arc). Things just kinda work out for her ig? Her actions feel like they stop having an impact the moment it stops being convenient for them to have one.

Like idk. If you like her, like her. There's plenty to like. She's just the least interesting Krew member to me.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

The Only Place That I Call Home - No Love Love Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: The real tragedy in No Love Lost is The Boys having to watch Her and Ben pretend they're capable of being normal about each other. Title from Heartlines by Florence and the Machine.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Warnings: It's team game night, and everyone is sick of you and Ben's shit. Takes place in Chapter 24. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, smut (blowjob, some fingering, p in v sex)

“We’re not playing codenames,” MM snapped. “The ban is fucking permanent, so drop it.”

“It’s a stupid ban,” She muttered, glaring at Ben’s hand as she turned it over between her fingers. It was hard to focus when She touched him like that. So natural and thoughtless, like he’s only an extension of her. He might be. She was perfect, and Ben would gladly just be a fucking extension of her. There wouldn’t be another goddamn idiot pussy he’d rather just be a weapon or tool of. “You’re just a sore loser-“

“We ain’t sore losers, Love,” Butcher snapped. “We’re just bloody sick of you always winning. Because you fuckin cheat.”

Ben almost snorted at the look of indigence on Her beautiful face. It was adorable, how She looked so genuinely offended by the very idea that she’d ever cheat, when they both knew that she cheated at almost every goddamn game they played with the team. Codenames is just the only one everyone else has caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She stuck her chin up at Butcher, and it would be regal if she wasn’t full of such fucking bullshit. “I’ve never cheated in my life, Butcher, and I’m wounded you’d think that low of me.“

“I’ve thought a lot fuckin lower,” Butcher drawled Her name, and she scowled. “And you are cheatin. Because that cunt,” Butcher nodded to Ben. “Always helps you.”

Her hand folded fully over Ben’s as she held Butcher’s glare. “Last time we were on different teams-“

“And that motherfucker sabotaged everyone for you,” MM grunted. “No fucking codenames.”

Her sharp eyes turned to Ben. Are you going to fucking defend our honor.

You don’t have honor, Sunshine. He grinned, kissing the top of Her head. And we do cheat. All the fucking time.

I don’t make you cheat-

My loyalty is to you. He shrugged. Not whatever pussies I get put on a stupid fucking team with. And you never complain-

Because I like winning, Benjamin, and-

You don’t have any fucking honor.

Fuck you.

At the dinner table? In front of everyone? He raised his eyebrows, smirking down at her pretty, flushed face. That’s fucking disgusting-

I hate you.

No you don’t. Ben smirks, pulling her closer to his side. You love me.

I do, She sighed, whacking his arm before dropping her head on his shoulder. You’re such a fucking asshole, but I do.

“You twats want to clue us into your secret bloody brain sexting-“

“No.” She shot Butcher a glare, and he was smart enough to just wink back. “If it’s not codenames, what are we doing.”

“We could do Monopoly-“ 

Annie shook her head, cutting Hughie off. “Butcher always wins Monopoly, and he’s always a smug ass about it after.”

“It ain’t my fault I got killer business instinct-“

“I think you’re just a heartless dick,” Annie shrugged. “Only psychos are good at Monopoly-“

“You’re just real fuckin salty, Starlight, cause you hate admittin I’m good at somethin-“

“Oh, shut up-“

“What about Clue?” Frenchie cut off Annie this time, flinching slightly at her glare. “My apologies Annie, but I would like to begin with a game before it becomes midnight-“

“No Clue,” MM grumbled. “Those two cheat with that one as well.”

Ben decided not to punch MM, because they did in fact cheat at Clue, and Her annoyed pout made him want to pick her up and suck on her lips until she moaned, and they did end up fucking at the dinner table.

Ryan raised his hand slightly. “Could we, um, could we do Uno? I like Uno.”

The table fell silent, nobody willing to point out that She and Ben would almost certainly be cheating at Uno when Ryan looked so fucking hopeful, and Her glare made it pretty damn obvious she’d kill anyone who shot the idea down.

“I can do Uno,” Hughie mumbled, and when everyone gave small nods of agreement he rose up, going to retrieve the game from wherever the fuck they kept it.

Ben felt a tug on his arm, and looked down to find Her very pointedly not looking at him, attention focused on Frenchie, explaining Uno to Kimiko.

What.

Are we cheating.

He coughed, failing to cover his laugh as Annie gave him an odd look. No fucking honor, darling-

Shut up. I had a fun idea, but if you’re going to be a dick-

Ben tangled Her fingers between his, muttering Her name between their heads. If you want to cheat and win, I don’t give a fuck about it-

I want to win. She glanced up at him. But I can win at multiple things.

Ben frowned. What the fuck are you talking about.

No cheating, a smile played on her pretty lips, and Ben wanted to trace them with his hands and mouth and cock. She was so fucking beautiful, it was an issue to his attention as she continued. Because we’re competing against each other.

Why the damn hell would we do that.

Because whoever wins gets to be in charge of sex tonight.

Christ, he fucking loved Her. You sure you want that, Sunshine? Ben leaned down, bumping his nose with Hers, smirking as her heart jumped slightly. Because I’ll fucking kick your ass, my love. And you won’t get off easy, he nipped at her lower lip, and her mouth fell open. When I win.

If you win.

He chuckled. Brat.

Cunt. You in, or are you too much of a fucking pussy-

Ben tangled his hand in Her hair, pulling her up into a deep kiss. I’m in. Get ready to fucking lose.

Take your own advice, Pretty Boy. She pulled back with a wide smile, and Ben had never seen anything better. I’m going to make you regret being born.

That wasn’t fucking possible. Ben didn’t think he’d ever regret a thing again, when whatever he’d done before had gotten him here. Feeling all Her love for him in every corner of the world, with her perfect, sharp, bright eyes on his and her body fitting like a missing half against his.

She was real fucking serious about winning—she’d stood up, moving to sit beside Ryan across the table so Ben couldn’t see her cards—and it was going to make it so much more satisfying when Ben emerged victorious. He was already lining out what he wanted to do—maybe some edging, make her moan and beg and squirm under him as he teased her—but he was adaptable. If they got home and he realized she was already fucking dripping through her underwear, he’d probably just fuck Her. But he had to win first.

They’d had to combine two Uno decks—nine people was apparently too much for one fucking pussy deck to handle—and it took Ben about fifteen seconds after Frenchie dealt to realize that he couldn’t fucking remember how to play Uno. And when he looked up at the casual, sharp amusement on Her face, he realized She’d fucking expected that.

You cheated.

We’re not cheating, Benjamin. We agreed on that-

I didn’t fucking say we, I said you.

I don’t know what you’re implying. She glanced up from her cards with almost fucking sparkling eyes, and Ben felt like someone had dropped a building on him. Actually, he’d had a building dropped on him. This was a whole lot fucking better, because it was made of all her love and adoration and perfect, clever brain and smart fucking mouth. Are you getting worried, Pretty Boy? Want to call it off?

Never in a million goddamn years. Want to hear how I’m going to fuck you when I win?

She hummed, looking back to her cards. I think that’s foul play.

This whole thing is foul fucking play. Distracting Her with dirty talk was also the only fucking chance Ben had to win, but she didn’t need to know that. I’m going to finger you first, darling. See if we can get three fingers at the start this time, if I make you wet enough. Her heartbeat picked up, her eyes becoming slightly glazed, and Ben pushed on. You might already be fucking wet enough, you’re always so fucking wet for me, but I’d like to get you so wet you fucking squirt all over me. Make you fucking scream-

Ben. She shot him a half-hearted glare. Shut it. Stop cheating.

You started it.

She wrinkled Her perfect nose at him. Fuck you.

I will. With three fingers, then my tongue, then my cock, until you’re a beautiful, wrecked mess-

A crumpled up napkin hit him in the face, and when Ben glowered at Her, she just shrugged. I told you to shut it.

Ben didn’t shut it. By the time the game was halfway done, he’d gotten hit in the face with five more napkins, a plastic spoon, and a cup that still had some fucking water in it. But he was still fucking losing. By a lot. Half the damn deck was in his hand, She was down to two cards, and there was no actual warning in Her glares or distress trading between their bodies, so Ben kept telling her every single filthy thought that crossed his mind.

And he still fucking lost. Kimiko—despite only learning the game twenty minutes ago—won first, but everyone groaned to keep going for second place. When Ryan won soon after that, it became about third. Ben was hardly able to hold his cards in his hands—everyone had a fucking vendetta against him, and he’d been hit with so many plus two cards it had to be some sort of targeted fucking play they’d all agreed on behind his back—and the game was between Her and MM.

She won, with an overdramatic slam of a green five on the pile, and a wide grin around the table. And when Her eyes met Ben’s, already blown out and thirsty, he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

“If you losers will excuse me,” She stood up, still holding Ben’s gaze. “I’ve had to shit for the last fifteen minutes.”

MM’s face twisted in disgust. “You could’ve just fucking left, you don’t need to tell us-“

“Sorry,” She shrugged, clearly not fucking meaning it. “If you wanted not to hear about my bowel movements, you shouldn’t have shot yourself in the foot by changing it to green.” 

As She turned away from the table, walking off to the dining hall bathrooms, her voice rang in Ben’s head. Give it five minutes, then follow me.

He gave it three. They were now going for fourth, nobody seemed to think he was a serious contender for the title, and Ryan eagerly volunteered to play for him, so with a grumbled thanks and half-run to the bathroom, Ben followed Her.

She was waiting for him, arms crossed as She leaned against the wall. “That was not five minutes-“

Ben locked the door behind him, and slammed his mouth onto Hers with a groan, swallowing every single moan and pulling her half off the ground as he touched Her fucking everywhere.

“Ben-“

“So fucking smart,” he muttered, dropping his head to her neck and sucking on that one spot that made her like putty in his hands. “You’re such a fucking brat, Sunshine-“

“And I won,” Her voice was breathless, but still smug. “So I’m in charge, Benjamin-“

He chuckled Her name against her skin, moving one hand under her shirt, palming at her breast. “We both know this ends with me fucking you, darling, so just damn say how you want it-“

She pushed him off—her hands heated enough to grab Ben’s attention, but not to burn him—and dropped to her knees, smirking up at him as she ran a hand up his thigh. “I’m in charge. And I want to suck your dick. Can I please-“

Ben had never moved fucking faster. Belt off, pants down, freeing his cock to press against Her pretty, parted, slightly swollen lips. Even if she hadn’t won that stupid bet, he’d never fucking turn Her down for this. Not when she was smiling up at him under her lashes, playing with his balls as she swirled her tongue over the head of him, teeth scraping as she squeezed him and he bucked forward slightly.

He growled Her name, fighting every single instinct in his body to just pick her up and fuck Her. Push himself into her perfect pussy, make her breathing as heavy and ragged as his was. Cover himself in the wetness he could see dripping onto the bathroom floor, her pants having been tossed off to the side so she could fucking finger herself. “If you don’t move-“

She leaned back, giving him a fake pout that made his cock jump in her hands. “No.”

“Christ, woman-“

She started to stroke him, gentle and almost fucking painful with how goddamn slow it was, and he groaned.

“I won, Ben. And I want you to fuck my face,” He hissed through his teeth as She licked the underside of his cock. “But if you’re going to be an ass-“

“You won,” he grunted, gripping the sink with one hand and tilting her head back with the other. “You fucking won, and I’ll fuck your face any goddamn day-“

She nodded, grinning. “When I tell you, pull out.”

“What-“

“Trust me.”

He nodded slowly, and when Her mouth fell open, Ben pushed himself down her throat, almost fucking moaning at how good she felt. Fucking sinful, Her tongue swirling around him, Her pretty eyes fluttering as he bumped the back of Her throat. He was pretty sure that he could find release just like this. Watching Her below him, her cheeks hollowed out and one of Her hands playing with herself as she held his gaze. She was fucking threat to Ben’s health, with how goddamn perfect she was. With a little drool escaping her lips as Ben’s cock rested between them, a hand steadying herself against his thigh, grinding onto the fucking floor-

That’s what got Ben to move. She was squirming against her own touch, and he could fucking smell how wet she was, hear her whimpers around his dick when his hips rutted slightly, and he wasn’t allowed to take care of Her until after this. So he tangled his hand in Her hair, tugging her almost fully of of him before slamming her back down, bucking his hips before repeating it over and over until She was moaning, pretty eyes rolling back in her head and her lips perfectly fucking puffed.

He was close. She’d started to suck on him when he hit the back of her throat, and lick the tip of his cock when he pulled back, and Ben could feel the coil in his gut growing tight and hot, and fuck She was so perfect and beautiful and he felt goddamn high-

He hissed Her name as her nose bumped his lower stomach, her high and desperate whine making him rut up into her. “Christ, you’re so fucking good. Gonna fucking paint your perfect fucking body in me, darling, fucking love you, look so fucking beautiful with your pretty fucking mouth stuffed with my cock-“

Her nails began to sink into Ben’s skin, Her hips rolling against her own touch. Ben had never been fucking jealous of someone actively sucking him off, but god fucking dammit it should be him touching Her. She should be squirming under Ben’s touch, not having to fucking drip all over the bathroom floor. Everything was fading into a daze of Her, bright and soft and so fucking full of love it made Ben a little insane, and he was so fucking close to cumming right in her fucking vice of a mouth-

Out. Her voice was breathless in Ben’s head, and his hand loosened on her head before he’d even fully registered the words.

“What-“

She surged upwards, grabbing Ben’s face and pulling it down to hers, and he let every fucking instinct of Her, Her, Her take over. Spinning them around, slamming her into the wall as one hand dropped down, pinching and flick at her clit until she became putty in his arms, running one finger between the lips of her pussy, teasing at her opening but never pushing in-

“Ben-“ She gasped as he dropped his mouth to her neck, biting that one spot as he pressed his thumb around her clit, rubbing slow circles everywhere around it. “Fuck-“

“So fucking good, Sunshine-“

Ben’s words were cut off with a strangled groan as her hand wrapped back around his cock, pumping him so fast he was pretty goddamn sure it might make him pass out.

“Inside,” She whispered, lips brushing against Ben’s ear as his arms tightened around her. “Want you to cum inside-“

Ben dropped one hand to Her thighs, pushing them open without a further fucking question and ramming himself into her with a half shout of pleasure. He felt himself bottom out, rolling his hips just enough to angle himself against that deep part of her that always made her scream, and when She came—her moans and shouts of his name in his ear, her pussy contracting around him, and her hands scratching at his back—Ben cracked the wall as he slammed up into Her, relief crashing through him.

“So fucking tight, darling.” He growled against her skin, and she whimpered. “Good girl, taking me so fucking well. Fucking love you-“

Someone slammed their fist against the door, and they both froze.

“We can all hear you horny cunts humpin like bloody rabbits! Keep it in your fuckin pants!” Butcher shouted through the walls, hitting the door one last time.

“Either we cheat or we fuck,” Ben drawled back, letting Her bury her beautiful, flushed face in his chest. “So let us cheat, or buy some goddamn earplugs.”

“You could just not fuck,” MM yelled, sounding a little further away. “Not fucking is an option-“

Ben rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back where it belonged. With Her.

“If we run,” he muttered, forcing himself to pull out of Her and ignore the way he was already half-hard again from the sight of his cum, dribbling down her thighs. “We can get you back to the apartment, and keep fucking without any goddamn interruptions.”

“I, um,” She leaned against him as they dressed, and Ben realized there was a slight wobble to her knees. He’d fucking done that. “I don’t want to run-“

He scooped her up into his arms with a smirk and a kiss to her brow. “Hold on.”

“Wait,” She looped her arms over his neck, playing with his hair as she studied his face. “I’m still in charge. When we get home.”

Ben snorted, hauling her further up his chest to mutter against Her lips. “Tonight you’re in charge, Sunshine. But next time, I’m fucking winning, and you’re going to cum so many times you can’t walk for a goddamn week.”

She swallowed, mouth parting, and Ben pushed his tongue between her lips, sucking on the lower one in a silent promise.

“And if I win again-“

“You won’t.” Ben pulled back, giving her a wink. “Because we’re going to do a team game, and I’m going to take Ryan. And you’ll lose for him on fucking purpose.”

She scowled. “Cunt.”

“Brat.” Ben grinned at Her, and her pretty lips—still fucking swollen from his cock—pulled into a smile as pure, raw fucking joy painted Her feature. “Let’s get you home.”

End Note: I feel like the Boys would have the most foul Jackbox night. Things would be said that should've never been said in the first place, and will never be said again. She and Ben would make a voting block. MM would quit when his smart joke lost to Frenchie writing "massive balls" for the seventh time in quiplash. Someone would break the TV.

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@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[yongility]

NEO TV #i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun. ──────── chapter ⵌ 3 : the price of loyalty.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings: drug use mention / gang activity / fights / use of weapons / adult language / nsfw scenes / illegal activities / mentions of cheating / toxic family enviroment / addictions / manipulation / insecurities / illegal street racing / death mentions / jeno is jaehyun's brother / lots of angst.

𒄬word count: 10k.

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

The third day of the week arrived promptly, where (Y/N) found herself comfortably seated in one of the library chairs, with her chemistry books scattered on the table in front of her as she studied for the exams she had coming up, with Jungwoo beside her.

It was becoming her routine for the week; after last Friday's party, what she most desired was to avoid being at home, especially after having an argument with her mother when she returned from the party.

She didn't want to deal with her in a good time.

Annoyed that her mother had thought it was a great idea to take away her right to use her own car as punishment for disobeying her that night and leaving the house... staying in the library seemed the most pleasant option; with silence, able to listen to music through her AirPods, without her mother bothering her every five minutes and being able to review what she had learned in her last classes: it was something she could take advantage of. She took a sip of her vanilla latte, which had been sponsored by Jungwoo, who, in an attempt to apologize for abandoning her in that way during last Friday's party, promised to pay for each of her daily drinks for a week and a half, no matter the cost.

And even though (Y/N) could afford that or even triple, she was still happy about it. Gifted things tasted even better anyway.

Of course, she first gave Jungwoo a -no- beating after telling him everything that had happened during his absence, but still, she appreciated that her friend was okay even though she hadn't heard anything from him until Saturday night.

During these last few days, with a new routine, (Y/N) was almost always in the same places, at the same times, and if she was honest, she was surprised not to have bumped into Jung Jaehyun at any moment.

It was weird; she would normally see him somewhere around the school, either accompanied by Lucas or just sitting on one of the benches while smoking his 'n' cigarette of the day. But simply, since Friday, she hadn't heard anything from him... she hadn't even bumped into Lucas, which increased the level of strangeness, considering he was a social butterfly, he was always around. (Y/N) had been aware of her words after Jaehyun had taken her home: she could no longer continue with whatever deal they had, with all the stress of her own tasks and knowing that no matter what she did, her cousin wouldn't give up his addictions, it was best to give up.

Although it would hurt her soul to know that there was no way to help Daeho.

But thinking about it, she didn't know if she had really been sincere about each going their own way... apparently Jaehyun had taken it very seriously to not show up anywhere, and although (Y/N) knew very well that being close to him didn't bring her anything good... his presence hadn't been so bothersome in the last few days. Really, after sharing a few words and spending more time with him, she couldn't say that she disliked his existence. It was funny if you asked the (Y/N) from a month ago, there would be no way she could have imagined that, somehow, she would be related to none other than Jung Jaehyun, who, on the outside, just seemed to be one more problem.

She tried to stop thinking about it and tried to focus her gaze on the book in front of her, but after a few minutes... it was difficult for her. There was something inside her that made her feel uneasy but she couldn't think what it was.

"There’s a race in Kosmo today" her best friend's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

Kosmo was the neighborhood that was right in the middle of the city, dividing Kwangya and Neo Zone. (Y/N) knew that there were usually illegal races in that area because it was when the rich kids from Kwangya usually dared to compete against Neo Zone.

"And why should I care...?"

"Your cousin will go to bet," Jungwoo replied, interrupting her study session.

The girl opened her eyes in surprise and asked, "How do you know?"

"Daeho told Mingi, and Mingi told me," he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. The boy fell silent for a moment and cleared his throat. "Don’t you want to go?" He asked curiously.

(Y/N) looked up from her books and observed her friend incredulously. "Why would I want to go?"

"To keep an eye on Daeho," he answered.

"I'm still mad with him, I've decided not to help him anymore. I really tried, I've been trying for the past few years, but he doesn't want help and now I understand," the girl confessed, closing her book and letting out a sigh.

"Still... don't you think it would be fun? Getting out of our comfort zone a bit... seeing what all this racing stuff is about. I've heard they're amazing," Jungwoo insisted.

"Jungwoo, my mom will kill me if she finds out I went to an illegal race," the girl continued, taking a sip of her coffee.

"She won't find out."

"Jungwoo..."

"Come on, (Y/N), we won't even be in Neo Zone, it'll be in Kwangya only. We'll go, watch the race, and leave. We won't even make contact with anyone. We'll go on our own," the boy assured her, moving closer to her. "Please, I think it would be interesting to break out of our routine, just for one night, what could go wrong?"

"Many things could go wrong, Woo," she replied.

"We won't know unless we try," he pouted, clasping his hands together. "Please."

She hated how persuasive her best friend was.

She sighed and shook her head. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving without a second thought."

"I love you so much," Jungwoo replied, hugging her shoulders.

"And I really hate you."

______________________________________________

The night fell faster than she expected, and among the roar of engines and the intense music that could be heard on the outskirts of Kosmo, (Y/N) felt something cold run through her body.

She could see familiar faces here and there, some of her classmates from Kwangya were in the place, and from the opposite side, the cars and familiar faces of Neo Zone were present.

It was a strange atmosphere for her; she had always played it safe, and now she didn't even know what to think. She felt herself getting closer to Jungwoo to not lose him, the last thing she needed was for them to separate like they did at the party.

She didn't think she could survive alone.

And it's not that she was dumb to think otherwise, but her parents raised her in an environment where they made her believe that she shouldn't do things outside her daily life. (Y/N) was afraid of adventures. Her life was governed by being obedient and doing the right thing; she didn't know when the moment of rebellion she had a few days ago when she left home the night of the party had been wise.

And now finding herself in Kosmo secretly from her mother at an illegal race? She must have gone crazy.

She believed even more so that she had gone crazy when something inside her hoped to run into none other than Jung Jaehyun.

She didn't understand why the urgency of what was happening, and even less why she expected to run into Jaehyun before running into Daeho.

Maybe it was because she found it strange not to have seen him since last Friday's party.

But she knew that if there was one place Jaehyun wouldn't miss... it would be the race tonight.

"Are you looking for Daeho?" Jungwoo asked when he saw her looking around. "He's probably with Mingi."

How could she explain to her friend that the person she was looking for was none other than Jung Jaehyun?

She nodded without saying more, and they both continued on their way while cautiously observing their surroundings. The smell of marijuana and car engines was embedded in the place, the music made their ears ring, and the night breeze made their bodies tremble.

(Y/N)'s eyes drifted away when she noticed Lucas in the distance, having a conversation with another guy. Lucas felt her gaze on him and looked at the girl with confusion before approaching her after apologizing to his companion.

"Hey, Kwangya kiddos, what brings you here on this magnificent night?" Lucas asked enthusiastically.

"We wanted to know what these races are about," Jungwoo replied simply.

"Hmm, interesting," the tall guy nodded. "Well, you're in luck, Jaehyun will race today, are you sure you want to see the show? The best of the area against someone from Yellow Wood," Lucas explained while cracking his fingers slightly.

Upon hearing the guy's name, (Y/N) looked up and paid attention to Lucas's words.

"If you're interested in betting, come to me," Lucas advised.

"I think we're fine like this," said (Y/N).

"Alright, take care. I'll go look for my guy to get him ready for the race," Lucas announced as he patted Jungwoo on the back.

The guy walked away from them with a smile, and Jungwoo responded with one of his own, then he looked at his friend and frowned, "relax, you're anxious."

How could she not be?

But before she could even answer anything, a few meters away, she saw the familiar face she had been looking for. In the distance, the silhouette of Jung Jaehyun was leaning against his car while talking to a few guys from Neo Zone, his neck tattoos weren't very visible due to the darkness of the night but she could distinguish them a bit, then... as if he had called him, Jaehyun's gaze moved to connect with hers, making her freeze in place.

Jaehyun frowned when he saw her standing just a few steps away from him, looking like a lost puppy as she stood beside Jungwoo.

The sight reminded him of a month ago when Daeho had clumsily brought (Y/N) to Neo Zone. Although this time she was accompanied by her best friend, another rich and spoiled kid from Kwangya. He observed the outfit she had decided to wear, once again, just like that time, it wasn't extravagant, no famous brand could be seen in her attire, and the only piece of jewelry she wore was a pair of earrings that definitely looked like gold...

He hoped she wouldn't lose them tonight.

Because they made her look good.

The surprise was evident on the girl's face when she took a better look at the brunet's body, who was now walking towards her, wearing a hoodie with its hood over his head and as he got closer, the darkness of the night was no longer so intrusive. It hadn't been enough to hide the bruises that were scattered across his body.

There was one under his cheek, just below his left eye, and it was reddish, as if it were flushed. Then, looking at the ones between his jaw and his neck, she noticed how they subtly mixed with the ink of the tattoo he had on his neck. That one was difficult to distinguish thanks to the dark lines that adorned that part of his body, but if you paid enough attention, it was alarming.

When she lowered her gaze over his torso and then looked at his hands, she could see the intense shades of red that his knuckles contained, as if ground blood had accumulated on each of them.

It wasn't the first time she had seen Jaehyun or Lucas with a bruise or two on a school day, but it was the first time she had seen it up close.

Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Why was it suddenly doing this?

"Did you lost your way home?" Jaehyun asked when he was in front of her.

"Jaehyun," she muttered quietly, "... are you okay?"

The girl didn't need much to realize that was the stupidest question she could ask right now, of course he wasn't okay. And although she knew this happened regularly in Jaehyun's life, she couldn't help but fill her head with doubts; what had to happen for him to end up like this?

... was that the reason he hadn't gone to school?

A small smile appeared on the boy's face, and even with the different colors decorating his face, she could still notice the dimples that formed in it.

Why did he still look good?

"I don't think you came here to ask that, Angel," Jaehyun replied mockingly. "I really believed in your whole story about us going on our ways, so what are you doing at a race where most of the spectators are from Neo Zone?"

The girl was left speechless. "Jungwoo brought me here."

"Well, if that's the case, enjoy the races, I think it'll be fun for you to spice up your Wednesday nights a bit," he continued with a sarcastic smile.

"What happened to you?" She asked again.

Jaehyun didn't answer.

He had gotten himself into big trouble... all thanks to Jeno.

He had trusted that all his merchandise would be sold by the time Monday came around, but after being at Johnny Suh's party, where other dealers were also present, he didn't manage to sell what he needed.

He had a little less than half left in his pockets and in Lucas's.

Luck had not been on his side this time, and when he had to be accountable to Lee Sooman, he had to take responsibility for his brother's actions. And despite telling him that he would not take care of him like he used to after the argument they had... he'd much rather take the beatings he had received than see Jeno the way he did in the mirror.

That time, it really felt eternal. He still remembers the angry (but also mocking) look Sooman had on his face when Jaehyun and Lucas brought the money to his office and after asking Lucas none too kindly to leave, that was when Jaehyun knew what was coming.

With Cheol Uk by his side, leading him out of the office to the vacant lot not far from the warehouse, Jaehyun could do nothing but accept what was coming.

It was one blow after another, and he knew well that at that moment, defending himself was not something he should do or he would end up worse.

He remembers feeling every punch with tremendous pain, and all he could think about was Jeno and how he would have felt if it had been him getting beaten up.

At least Jaehyun was used to the beatings and had no choice; he already knew that all of this was part of being someone from Neo Zone, so he simply had to continue to comply with what Sooman demanded to the letter unless he wanted to end up again in the position he was in.

What felt like hours was really just a few minutes; Cheol Uk stopped hitting him after a while and without saying more, he left. Leaving Jaehyun in the middle of the vacant lot with a broken lip and eyebrow as he spat blood and reached for his abdomen for some support to get up and walk to where he knew Lucas was waiting for him.

How much more? How much longer would he have to keep with all of this?

But, right now, it wasn't something he should talk about.

"It's really not something you need to know," he replied with a smirk. "You came to enjoy the race, right? Then do it, I'll be running in a few minutes, if you don't get scared by the atmosphere here before that, I'm sure you'll want to see me," Jaehyun continued, winking at her.

"I think it'll be fun to see you in second place," the girl teased.

"Baby... I always win," Jaehyun bragged, looking her directly in the eyes.

It was then that the girl didn't say anything else, she just kept her gaze on his. She hated feeling intrigued by Jaehyun himself. Because right now she didn't even feel like she was in Kosmo, with Jaehyun in front of her looking directly at her, she didn't even feel real. She was getting into fire and she knew it.

And she didn't know if she could escape from it.

For a moment she felt a heaviness on her shoulders and warmth surrounded her, causing her to snap out of her thoughts and notice that the jacket that Jaehyun was wearing over his hoodie was now over her body.

"You were trembling like a chihuahua," Jaehyun explained. "Don't consider it an act of kindness, I'm just returning the favor after having done my jobs those two weeks... at least now they won't kick me out of school this evaluation period," he continued.

"I'm not sure if I should feel good knowing that I'm indirectly helping an illegal business," she replied, adjusting the jacket.

"No one needs to know," he replied. "Good luck tonight, don't get lost too much because things get interesting," he said, and without further ado, he turned around to go back to his friends.

(Y/N) stood perplexed in her place, and it was then that she felt Jungwoo's presence next to her.

"What was that?"

"I have no idea."

The next morning, after putting her books back in her backpack, (Y/N) looked at the jacket folded inside her bag, feeling a heaviness and remembering the events of the previous night.

The rumors were true... Jung Jaehyun was the best street racer in the area, because he not only competed once the day before, but two more times, winning 3 victories in a short time, and to be honest, it had been impressive.

She hadn't run into him again after the brief conversation they had, and even though she had been waiting for it... she and Jungwoo bolted from the place when they heard the police sirens approaching Kosmo.

The last thing she needed was for her parents to find out about her escapade.

She didn't hear anything from Daeho the night before, she even doubted if he had really gone to the race.

She didn't want to give too much importance to the situation, which is why she chose to continue her path through the school hallways, hoping to return the jacket that was at the bottom of her bag and trying to divert her thoughts to something other than Jaehyun.

And as if she had summoned him, she saw him under the entrance roof as he leaned against the wall and took a drag from the cigarette in his hands. (Y/N) checked the day's weather and cursed when she noticed the raindrops falling lightly. She had forgotten about today's forecast.

Jaehyun was lost in his thoughts as he watched the rain and let out the smoke in his chest.

The bruises were still visible.

She stopped abruptly to take the jacket out of her bag and, without saying anything, approached him and handed it back to him.

Jaehyun looked at her with a raised eyebrow and blew out the smoke from his lungs.

"You're welcome," Jaehyun said as he took the jacket in his hands.

"Yes, thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Where did you park your car?" Jaehyun asked out of nowhere.

"I didn't bring it with me, my mom confiscated it," she blurted out without thinking, and when she turned to look at Jaehyun, she noticed a mocking smile on his face.

"Oh, mom took away your Porsche," he pouted mockingly and shook his head. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"I'm fine, Jaehyun. Thanks," she said as she looked at the rain.

"Come on, it wouldn't be the first time I've taken you. Plus, the school won't be closing anytime soon."

She thought about all the possibilities that crossed her mind, but something about her was excited to think about the ride home.

"Where's your car?"

It was fortunate that his car was nearby.

Jaehyun turned on the heater as soon as they got into the car, and without further ado, the journey began.

It was just like the first time they had been together in the same car. Without saying anything, both with their eyes focused on the road, and it was then that they both realized that they didn't have a topic of conversation. The few times they had interacted had been about their interests and what they needed from each other at the moment. However, Jaehyun didn't know anything about (Y/N) that he hadn't heard at school, and (Y/N) didn't know anything about Jaehyun that she hadn't heard in the hallways or from her parents about the people from Neo Zone.

At this point, they weren't even acquaintances.

They had just coincided in something and that was it.

(Y/N) took the opportunity to send a text message to Jungwoo and tell him that he no longer needed to pick her up, without explaining more, she sent the text and subsequently, Jaehyun's phone rang.

The boy sighed and cautiously looked for a quick place to park even with the sound of the mobile phone ringing filling the car. He took the device and (Y/N) could notice the slight tension that seized Jaehyun's body as he read the caller ID, without thinking twice he answered the call.

The brunette felt weird being able to hear Jaehyun's conversation, so she tried to distract herself with something else. First with her phone, then looking out the window where she could see the rain beginning to dissipate, and then she could hear a "I'll be there in a moment" that made her react and turn to see him end the call.

The boy scratched his neck and then brought his hands to his face to rub it, let out a deep sigh, and looked at (Y/N).

“Uh, I need to do something quickly and your house is still a bit far... Do you mind if we stop by that place first? It's on the way” he asked with no other option.

“Does this has to do with your job?” She asked.

It took him a moment to respond: — No, it's not about my job. You can stay in the car, it's just that, I really need to get there.

After seeing Jaehyun's face and not being able to decipher what he was trying to say, (Y/N) nodded, not very sure, and that was enough for Jaehyun to quickly start the car.

Thousands of thoughts ran through (Y/N)'s mind. Eager to know where they were headed; she didn't know if she should believe Jaehyun that this wasn't about picking up or delivering goods or meeting someone who worked on the same thing he did.

She was only sure they wouldn't go to Neo Zone because they were far from there.

She could see how impatient Jaehyun seemed while driving, and that only made her even more nervous. What exactly did they tell him in that call to make him like this? She wanted to ask, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.

She didn't know how many minutes had passed, she only knew that the rain stopped just before the car parked and she finally noticed where they were. A gray building was a few meters away from them, and it wasn't hard to recognize it.

It was the National Rehabilitation Center.

A long and large building, which was accompanied by an extensive garden, and from the outside, you could see that there were a huge number of rooms inside it.

Her head was flooded with even more questions knowing that this was the place where Jaehyun was needed.

“You can stay in the car if you want. I'll be back in a moment” Jaehyun said as he opened the car door and got out.

Curiosity got the better of her.

And that's why she got out of the car and followed Jaehyun. Without saying anything, they entered the building where they were immediately greeted by a nurse who seemed to know the boy well.

“Jaehyun, I'm glad you were able to answer the call” said the woman as she greeted them. “We need to talk to you”.

The boy nodded and turned to (Y/N), who just nodded and said, “I’ll wait for you.”

He smiled slightly and walked with the person until they reached the reception where she was able to pull out a few papers.

It had been, perhaps, about two weeks since the last time he had been there. A place he was very familiar with and where he regularly went; he had become good friends with the friendly nurses who apparently didn't care where he came from.

He was grateful that the nurse didn't say anything when his bruises and wounds were clearly visible.

“Has something happened?” he asked after a few seconds.

“ He's fine” the nurse said with a smile “but we need to talk to you about his stay here” she continued.

That's when the small smile on his face disappeared. Jaehyun knew what she was referring to. He swallowed hard before the nurse could speak.

“The payment is overdue, Jaehyun," the nurse confirmed what he already knew. "We care about Sicheng's health, but this is not my concern. You know that the center relies on patients' monthly payments, and the administrators in charge of them request them punctually," she commented as she handed Jaehyun one of the papers. "I understand your situation and Sicheng's, but there's nothing more I can do even if I wanted to; I've tried to delay the payment as much as I could, but unfortunately, it can't be delayed any longer. The administrators expect the payment soon, or we'll have to discharge Sicheng and send him home," she concluded.

It was difficult at first for Jaehyun to process everything the nurse had said, as more than ten things ran through his mind at once; one of them being his good friend Winwin, then, thinking about how he could quickly get the money he knew he owed to the clinic, considering the beating he had just received for not being able to complete a sale. So, what would he do? He still needed half the money for that monthly payment, and between the clinic's expenses and those of his own house for his family, he couldn't see a way to get the money on time.

He would have to ask for more stash to sell if he wanted to do it.

He couldn't let them discharge Sicheng.

Not while he hasn't made progress.

"I'm sorry," Jaehyun said. "I... I still have a little left to complete the payment. It's just that lately, it's been harder, and... how much time do I have to pay it?" the breathless boy asked.

"Considering that it's only the first few days of the month, and the payment is already two weeks late... I can't give you more than three days," lamented the nurse, making a grimace.

"I'll try the impossible to bring you that money on Saturday. Sicheng still can't be discharged; he hasn't progressed the way he was supposed to," he affirmed, a slight pout evident in his mouth.

What a contrast there was between his expression and the bruises, accompanied by the tattoos on his body.

Being in the Rehabilitation Center was the place where he could be most vulnerable.

"How is he?" he asked, lowering his gaze.

"Same as the last time you came to visit him," commented the nurse. "We're doing what we can, Jaehyun, but as long as he stays the way he is, we can't move forward. We need his will to help him."

When no words came out of his mouth, the nurse continued: "Jaehyun, you know you can go see him."

For Jaehyun, each visit was just as difficult as the day he decided to admit Sicheng to that clinic, and each one left him more tormented than the previous.

He would give everything if that means that Sicheng would go back to be himself.

He nodded after a few seconds and cautiously glanced back, where, not far away, (Y/N) was reading some brochures and observing the facilities around them; when she noticed the boy's gaze on her body, she walked toward him carefully.

The brunette didn't really know what came to his mind or what caused those words to come out of his mouth, but when he wanted to back off, it was too late, because they had already been expressed.

"Are you coming with me?"

And although (Y/N) had no idea why they were there or where they were going, she accepted anyway. So they found themselves walking down the long whitewashed hallway until they reached an elevator, and then they went up about three floors.

The atmosphere was cold, the hallways and rooms were well-lit, and they could see a few nurses and what she assumed were doctors walking around in their lab coats.

Jaehyun didn't know why he was allowing himself to show her that part of his life, especially when it was such a fragile part for him. He had tried to protect it cautiously for the past few months, and now he was there, accompanied by Hwang (Y/N), with the person he never thought he would meet at that moment.

He hadn't really thought of her when he asked if they could go there before going home; his head was only thinking about the clinic and Sicheng when the call had ended, and it was too late to change his mind when they had set off.

He just hoped the girl would be discreet enough.

They reached room 119, where Jaehyun pushed the door open and where in a wheelchair, they both could see Winwin, who was facing the large window of his room, looking outside.

(Y/N)'s surprised face did not go unnoticed; she was confused in a thousand ways. She knew who Dong Sicheng was; everyone in her school knew him, however... she thought he had simply left the city. She had no idea he was in that place. So in her head, thousands of questions arose about him, why he was there, and why he was in a wheelchair.

She could only react when she heard Jaehyun's voice: "Hey, buddy. How are you today?"

Nothing.

That's what he received.

Jaehyun walked over to him, and when he stood next to him, he crouched down enough to be able to observe him better. Winwin had his gaze fixed forward, his cheeks were a little rosy, his hair fell over his forehead, and his hands were resting on his legs.

Jaehyun sighed.

"Oh, I see you've taken a shower today," the boy mentioned with a smile, and again, there was not a single response.

When he noticed the presence of the girl, who had remained in her place throughout the visit and hesitated to approach them, he spoke: "Today I'm not alone; I brought company. Maybe you'll find it helpful to hear another voice that isn't mine or Lucas's... or the nurses'," the boy teased and gestured to the brunette to come closer, who obeyed. "Do you remember (Y/N)? She was in our class; we've coincided a couple of times, that's why she's here."

"Hello, Winwin," she greeted softly. Jaehyun made a grimace and stood up from his place to be at the girl's height.

"Don't expect an answer," Jaehyun commented. "There won't be one."

"I thought... I thought Winwin had moved to China," (Y/N) confessed.

Jaehyun snorted: "Yes, that's what everyone thinks."

Those words took her by surprise, and it was when she decided to remain silent, watching from a distance the little interaction between the boys: it was just Jaehyun saying a few words while adjusting Sicheng's hair without expecting any response.

Dong Sicheng and Jung Jaehyun had been friends since birth, being two little boys who grew up on the streets of Neo Zone, it was easy to click with each other. Winwin's parents had decided to move to the infamous area after his father had met Lee Sooman in some low neighborhood in Wenzhou, China, and he had offered him a job where he could have his family at least a little better off than in his country.

Winwin had not joined the gang since it had not been of great urgency to him; his father was the active member needed by the family, and if he were honest... the farthest he could be from the Neo Zone gang... the better. He was always Jaehyun's companion at all times. Best friends who shared every detail of their lives for years, Jaehyun took care of Sicheng, and he provided the most sincere friendship he had ever had... then, a while later, Lucas Wong and Mark Lee joined their adventures.

Four boys from Neo Zone with the desire to conquer the world, but unable to leave their sad reality behind.

Jaehyun still remembers that fateful day a year ago, and he still feels like it happened yesterday.

The guilt gnawed at him every passing day, terrorizing each of his nights as he wondered: Why?

Why did something like that have to happen to someone as good as Dong Sicheng was?

A year ago, when Jaehyun had chosen to go deliver a package of stash after Winwin had asked him to stay and keep him company, and he had denied that request... that decision still drilled into his head.

Winwin's family and he had been robbed in their own home. Knowing who had done it, the reasons for the event, and who had ordered such inhumanity, were still a mystery. When Winwin's parents along with him tried to flee the place by leaving in a car; it had not been the wisest decision they had made at the moment... because not long after, outside of Neo Zone, after the group of people who had robbed their home managed to shoot a clean shot in one of the tires of the rear part of the car, causing Winwin's father to lose control of his own vehicle and not a few meters later it would impact hard enough for the car to be shot in another direction, causing immediate damage.

Jaehyun only remembers receiving a call from Lucas and minutes later finding himself at the entrance to the Emergency Room of the General Hospital, where a stretcher with Winwin's body was being transported.

He remembers seeing the blood. He remembers hearing Lucas and Mark's screams asking to see their friend. He remembers standing still at the entrance to the Emergency Room.

But above all, he remembers thinking, what would have happened if instead of deciding to go sell that stupid package of stash, what if he had stayed at home with his mother and Sicheng?

A week in a coma and a diagnosis of paraplegia was what made Jaehyun lose his mind.

It had been a year since the accident, and Winwin had not even progressed a bit. After being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, it had been difficult to help the injury in the dorsal spine that he had suffered; the damage had been partial, Winwin could handle his movements and his sensitivity to walk again... if only he would come out of the state of shock he was still in.

There were too many things he experienced in so few minutes, so much physical and mental pain for what happened, that now, Sicheng couldn't react.

It had been a year since Sicheng hasn’t spoken.

The doctors assured that he could hear and understand everything, but he was simply mentally tired to process the words and make them come out of his mouth.

His body didn't react as it should either.

And until Winwin had the strength of his own will to do it, the only thing they could do at that clinic was to keep him on medication so that the pains would not persist.

But Jaehyun couldn't take it anymore.

What he would give for Sicheng to be able to enjoy life again.

Unfortunately, the visits he made to the hospital... didn't last more than half an hour since that was the place's regulation. So, his farewell was as quick as his arrival.

"See you on Saturday, Win," he put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't give the nurses too much trouble."

He could swear he heard Winwin laugh and say goodbye.

Even though that really didn't happen.

(Y/N), who throughout the visit remained silent observing both boys, could feel her heart in her hand. She had never believed she would see that vulnerability on Jaehyun's part, and knowing what it was about because of the importance his best friend had in his life, made her heart ache with sadness even more.

"Now I'll take you home," murmured Jaehyun when he passed by her without saying anything else.

The girl glanced back, looking for the last time at Sicheng's silhouette, who hadn't moved from the same place since they had both arrived in the room. She took a deep breath and left the room when Jaehyun was already far enough away.

She didn't know what to say. There were no words of comfort for the situation, and she knew it, that's why they both silently said goodbye to the nurse who had received them and continued like that until they entered the car, which was not parked far away.

Jaehyun allowed himself to lean back on the driver's seat as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"I guess you have many questions," Jaehyun said without opening his eyes.

She had.

"I don't know if I really should ask them," (Y/N) confessed as she looked at him.

The boy remained silent for a few seconds.

"Sicheng and his parents had an accident a year ago," Jaehyun said, opening his eyes to look at her. "An accident that was caused."

"By whom?"

"No one knows," he replied, taking his hands to the steering wheel of the car and squeezing it tightly. "His parents died instantly... Winwin arrived at the hospital in critical condition; it was a miracle that he came out alive."

"Why...?"

"Why is he in this clinic?" he interrupted, and she nodded with a knot in her stomach. "The accident had a great impact and damaged on his dorsal spine; the doctors diagnosed partial paraplegia; his sensitivity in his legs was minimal, and he couldn't make any extensive movements with his legs that didn't make him cry from the pain. After seven days, he woke up from the coma and realized everything that had happened, including my uncle's death... he hasn't said a single word since then... the doctors said it would take time for him to recover, and that eventually, he would speak, but Winwin doesn't have the will to do it; he's still in a kind of state of shock, and that has delayed his recovery," he explained, unable to see her in the eyes.

"Who... who pays for all this if Sicheng's parents aren't here?" she asked curiously.

Jaehyun sighed; "For the first few months, my boss covered part of the monthly fee, until suddenly he stopped doing it. Since then, I've been taking care of it."

The girl's expression was one of surprise.

"How do you do it?"

"That’s the reason I'm in the business that I'm in," he replied, changing his gaze to her, being able to see directly into her eyes and causing her to feel a shiver run through her body.

There was something about those bruised eyes that had done something to her.

"It must be hard," the girl said in a murmur.

Jaehyun snorted and nodded slowly. He hated being seen in his less tough character. The only person he allowed himself to be like that with was Lucas... or Winwin. And for a stranger to see him like that... made his blood boil.

"You know? Winwin loved dancing," Jaehyun said, smiling sideways as the memory came to his mind.

That fact wasn't strange for (Y/N), she remembers seeing Winwin at the school theater... the only boy from Neo Zone who was part of the dance team. She didn't even know how he had managed that, but he must have been good if the Kwangya students allowed him to be in the group.

"Now nobody knows if he'll be able to do it again," Jaehyun continued. "Winwin was the only one of all of us who really had a future, he wasn't even a gang member... he hadn't even gone through his initiation, and look how he ended up."

(Y/N) swallowed.

"Mark Lee is no longer friends with you, right?" The girl asked curiously.

"Things got complicated with him after the accident."

The brunette fell silent for a moment and then shifted her body to face him.

“Haven't you thought about looking for another alternative?” she questioned again “You know? If you let me help you, maybe I could get you a position at my father's company and...”

“Shh. I think I've told you it's not that easy.”

“ But it could be” she insisted.

Jaehyun scoffed and shook his head as he looked away from her.

“I not only have to cover this quota, I also have to bring money home, for my mom and for Jeno. It's the easiest way to get what I need” he confessed “besides, I told you once... in Neo Zone there's no way out, once you're in, you're in forever.”

The tattoos on his neck were what sentenced him to a miserable life forever.

But as long as that miserable life helped to ease the pain and managed to make Sicheng return to who he was, it would be worth it.

“It doesn't have to be like this” she murmured, focusing on her own hands.

"You don't know what it's like to be part of this," he countered in a low voice.

How had they opened up to have such a conversation so suddenly?

The girl felt her lip tremble as she remembered the scene she had witnessed minutes earlier in that room, and she couldn't help but think about how it would feel to lose a loved one in such a way... knowing that physically they were present, but mentally they weren't there.

(Y/N) had always had a heart easy to move, but she really never believed that Jung Jaehyun would be able to achieve that.

"Is that why you insist on continuing school?" she asked, looking at him again.

"Students are my best clients," he replied with a half smile.

(Y/N) didn't know how to take that.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then said, "I can help you with a few more assignments," she assured. "But only for a while and in my own way. But, I don't want you to involve me in any of the problems you're in, it will only be school matters. I don't want to be associated with anything you do, if anything you do is enough to help Sicheng, I'll try not to question it."

Jaehyun couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"If that helps you help me and me stay in school..." he paused "...I might be willing."

"What's the reason for your change of heart?"

"Because if I were in the same situation as you, I would also want someone to somehow help me," she replied, hugging herself.

The boy nodded with a half-smile, and without further ado, he started the car.

"Only school matters," Jaehyun confirmed.

She definitely didn't know what he had just gotten himself into.

The day after the visit to the National Rehabilitation Center, something happened that made (Y/N) unable to concentrate enough during class hours. Her mind kept going back to the place over and over again, but how horrible was the situation the boy was in. One day you're capable, and the next... not even being able to move. How could anyone endure that?

At some point in the morning, during the physics period, her mind was spinning, her leg moving anxiously, and she bit her lips. She tried to erase the conversation she and Jaehyun had had the day before a thousand times and tried to erase the image of Winwin in that room.

But it was impossible.

Just when she thought she had succeeded, the image returned immediately.

She hated being someone who cared too much about things.

Because she knew something wasn't right with her when she found herself in front of the doors of the Rehabilitation Center.

Her coat shielded her from the cold breeze on that day, and as she clutched her bag to her, she didn't think anymore and entered the place.

She felt a little out of place when she entered the center, but after a few minutes, a presence came in front of her.

"Hello, good morning," the nurse greeted her. "Oh, you're the girl who accompanied Jaehyun yesterday, right?" She asked in confusion.

The girl smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm Hwang (Y/N). I'm Jaehyun's classmate... and Winwin's."

"How nice of you to visit us... are you here to see Winwin? It's rare to see someone come for him other than Lucas or Jaehyun," confessed the nurse.

"Um, yes... I could say I'm here for a visit," the girl smiled. "But, to be honest... yesterday I overheard a bit of his conversation with Jaehyun... I know Winwin's payment is delayed this month."

"Yes, usually Jaehyun finds a way to pay on time," she sighed. "But this month it's been delayed for a few weeks, and if I'm honest, I've been doing everything I can to keep Winwin from being discharged."

The girl nodded and asked, "Do you think Winwin's treatment will still take time?"

"I can't answer that accurately," admitted the nurse. "It's all a matter of Winwin's will, but to be honest, right now he has no will at all, so far as we're concerned, and if the payment continues to be monthly... he could spend another half a year here."

The girl understood the situation, and although she would like to think more about it... she didn't, so she didn't even know when she blurted out those words: "Is there any way I can pay for the next six months?"

The nurse's eyes widened with surprise, and she looked at the girl with enthusiasm. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," she replied. "I would like to help one of my classmates as long as I can. Money is not a problem," she confessed.

"Wow... thank you, i really appreciate that. Winwin is a boy with a lot of potential from what we know, and although we're sad that we haven't made the progress we want, we know that someday he will leave through that door better," (Y/N) smiled nostalgically.

"I just need to ask you something," the brunette confessed. "Could you not tell Jaehyun that I've paid?" she questioned.

"I don't know if it's easy to lie to someone like Jaehyun," the nurse laughed. "But since it's something good you've done... I'll try," the nurse walked to the desk with (Y/N) behind her. "(Y/N)?" She called and paid attention. "I know there may be many things about Jaehyun... but he's a good guy... beneath all that facade; he really has something good."

Those words hammered in her head. "Thank you."

_____________________________________________

(Y/N) reviewed the same line of text she had read five times now on some molasses topic. Trying to understand the topic deeply.

The air coming lightly through one of the library windows was enough for her to try to hug herself to take warmth, read a bit from the physics books on the table, and impatiently move her leg.

She didn't know at what exact moment a tall figure stood in front of her, but what she did know was that that person didn't seem very happy.

"Why did you do it?" Jaehyun let out while looking directly at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," (Y/N) replied while looking at her book attentively.

"I know you know. I thought I told you I don't need your money," Jaehyun repeated with annoyance.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," the girl stopped seeing her book and changed her gaze to the boy.

"Don't play with me," the boy exclaimed exasperatedly. "Why did I went to the center today and they told me Winwin's treatment has been paid for the next six months?"

The girl shrugged. "It could have been your boss."

"My boss doesn't give a shit about Winwin!" Exclaimed the boy. "I told you I didn't need your money, I was clear, I don't want to owe anything to anyone from Kwangya."

"You don't need to pay me back," the girl assured, standing up in front of Jaehyun. "With the money you'll save from that, you'll be able to sell less."

"It seems you don't understand a fucking thing!" Jaehyun raised your arms with annoyance. "Paying or not paying for Sicheng's treatment, it doesn't change the fact that I sell drugs!" The boy explained regardless of where they were; they were lucky the library wasn't being occupied by other people.

"Everyone starts somewhere!" the girl attacked. "I just wanted to take a weight off your shoulders."

Jaehyun scoffed and looked at her with a sarcastic smile.

"Why? I don't need your pity! If you hadn't accompanied me yesterday, you'd still be thinking Winwin had moved to China! You didn't give a fucking damn even when he was your classmate!"

(Y/N) started gathering her things and putting them in her backpack.

"Saying thank you would have been enough, Jaehyun!" the girl remarked. "I know you can do better with your life," she murmured as she turned to look at him.

Jaehyun's blood was boiling; he hated when people interfered in his life, as if he didn't already have enough to deal with.

"You don't know anything about me! You said it yourself; we're not even friends," he retorted.

"And what if I want to get to know you better?" the girl exclaimed without thinking. They both fell silent, staring into each other's eyes. (Y/N) didn't even want to say those words, but she did.

She couldn't deny that Jung Jaehyun was intriguing. She didn't know why. She didn't know why she had been avoiding him for weeks, but since that night at Neo Zone, when they had talked about the deal, she knew it would be difficult to shake him off, and when she had... something inside her wanted them to meet again. Why are things so difficult? They are two different people from different backgrounds; why would she suddenly be interested in him? Was it because she saw him vulnerable the day before? Or was it because she believed there was something good in him, just like the nurse had said?

She must be crazy to think like that.

"You really don't want to do it," Jaehyun said with a bit more calmness.

"I know you can get out out of that hole, Jaehyun."

"Winwin's parents tried, and look how that ended up!" he exclaimed. "There's no way out in Neo Zone, get that through your head," he explained. "There's nothing good about me. I don't even know why you think so, just because yesterday you saw something different or because I drove you home a couple of times, doesn't mean you know everything about me!"

"Stop acting like a fucking jerk."

"Like a jerk? This is reality! Your act of charity isn't going to change my life. I was born a dealer, and that's how my life will end!"

"I really believe there's something good in you."

"Well, keep believing it."

"If you ever feel grateful, you know where to find me," the girl said, gathering her things and walking out of the library.

Jaehyun cursed under his breath and shook his hands in frustration. In just a few days, the girl had managed to push his buttons faster than anyone else from Neo Zone.

But when he saw her walk out the door, why did he feel regret for lashing out at her?

The week had been slow this time. (Y/N) and Jaehyun had been avoiding each other like the plague, not even looking at each other when they crossed paths in the hallway. For the girl, it seemed like childish behavior, especially coming from Jaehyun and his usual façade; now he seemed nothing more than someone throwing a tantrum after she only wanted to help him.

But she still thought she really wanted to get to know him better.

What was behind his façade? What was it that made him who he was? Not the boy from Neo Zone, not the dealer everyone knew... who was Jeong Jaehyun really?

That question had been on her mind for weeks, and it disappointed her a bit to know that she might never know the answers to those doubts she had about the boy.

Today was warm compared to the weather last week. The sun was shining brightly, and luckily for (Y/N), her mother had decided to return her car. So her day had started off on the right foot, and hoping for a good day, she took the opportunity to stop by her favorite coffee shop in Kwangya. Ordering her usual vanilla latte and just before it was time to pay, a thought invaded her mind, and after debating it internally, she decided to follow her thoughts.

An hour and a half later, when she was the last one to leave her physics class, someone blocked her path at the classroom door. Holding her book to her chest, after the unexpected startle, she looked ahead to find no one but Jaehyun. Who stood silently in front of her, with the same leather jacket he used to wear, the same combination of marijuana and vanilla scent, and with the same enchanting eyes, that she had just noticed.

She was in dangerous territory.

And she knew it.

"I need to go to my next class, Jaehyun," the girl said shortly.

For a few seconds, the boy in front of her didn't say anything, he just watched her, until he sighed and slowly said, "Thank you."

Short and to the point, he didn't say anything else, and that was enough to make (Y/N)'s heart flutter in a thousand ways.

"For the coffee," the boy finished. "And for the notes."

"I did my part, I told you I would help you," said (Y/N) as she fiddled with her fingers.

"I thought you wouldn't after the last time we met," Jaehyun confessed.

"I'm sticking to that."

A small silence ensued. Two people face to face. With thousands of doubts between them and things to resolve. What had drawn them together? How was it that the universe managed to put two completely different people in the same place?

"Did you mean it?" Jaehyun asked, and when he noticed that (Y/N) didn't understand what he meant, he continued. "About wanting to get to know me more."

(Y/N) swallowed hard and looking him in the eyes, nodded.

"I still believe there's something good in you."

"Why?"

"I don't know yet," she replied honestly. "And it's killing me. A while ago, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with you, not even to cross paths, but now, I don't know what's changed, but every time I try to stay away, it's like something brings me back here," she confessed, leaving Jaehyun speechless, who just watched her, trying to decipher everything she was saying.

It was killing him too.

"Let's go to my car," he said.

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"You want to know more about me, then get in my car," he said again, this time making his way to the parking lot, with (Y/N) behind him, who didn't say a single word, just followed his lead.

What was he doing?

When they reached the car, Jaehyun opened the passenger door, causing (Y/N) to get in without protesting. Then Jaehyun got into the driver's seat and without further ado, started the engine. She didn't know what was happening or what would happen next, but right now she could only trust Jaehyun.

Even though she didn't know how bad an idea that might be.

A few minutes later, as they had traveled a long distance, (Y/N) noticed they were approaching Neo Zone, and with her eyes wide open, she panicked.

"This is me," Jaehyun said out of nowhere, catching the girl's attention. "See all these streets? This is where I belong. This is what I am," he explained carefully.

(Y/N) looked out the window, a couple of people smoking on the sidewalk, others passing joints, and other silent streets. The houses weren't that big... rather, they looked cramped. Unlike what she was used to, to her lifestyle, this didn't seem like it would be enough for a family.

But what did she know with the privilege she had?

"I grew up here, this is what I know," he commented. "Most people are born and die here, it's something that seems to be already written," he continued as his car slowed down. "Those of us from here have a different perspective on life... people from Kwangya lives for the money... we live to survive, and although it's getting harder and harder, we manage to do it," the car finally stopped, and still looking out the window, (Y/N) saw a small house in front of them. One story, not much to describe or point out, it was small but for some reason, it looked cozy.

(Y/N) changed her gaze to Jaehyun, who was still looking ahead and spoke.

"Is this your house?"

Jaehyun nodded.

(Y/N) smiled softly.

"Would you invite me in?"

He doesn't know how (Y/N) managed to have an effect on him, but now they were there, inside his little house, (Y/N) carefully examining the walls around them and analyzing every aspect of the small space.

He was grateful there were no one at home.

"It looks cozy," (Y/N) said as she looked at one of the frames hanging on the wall.

"I guess it's not even a third of your house," Jaehyun assured to (Y/N).

“And no matter how many people are there, it always feels lonely," she confessed. "It's like no one leaves anything there, like it's something unimportant. As if it's not a home," she finished.

Jaehyun looked at her gently, and as she looked around, thousands of things went through his mind.

"To be honest with you," the girl spoke. "I see more vibes from Jeno in this house than yours," she said. "Many things here seem related to Jeno... but I don't see many things related to you..." she continued. "It's like you don't even think about staying here for long."

"I don't plan on leaving Neo Zone," Jaehyun asserted, crossing his arms.

"Don't you want a different future?"

"There's no future for me," Jaehyun pointed out. "And if there were, I'd prefer to give it to Jeno. He has much more to live for than I do."

"You also have a life to live. A future to write, you can change what is today, for something better," (Y/N) turned around to face the boy.

"I have no way out," the boy replied. "Do you think this is easy? After seeing my dad die and doing everything my bosses ask me to do no matter what. Taking care of my mom, Jeno, and now Winwin? Huh? Making sure Winwin becomes who he was again and that my brother doesn't end up being a fucking addict are enough reasons for me not to leave here," Jaehyun concluded, getting dangerously close to her, with a few centimeters separating them.

The words echoed in her head strongly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't pity me," Jaehyun said under his breath.

"It's not that. It's just that every time I think about all this and now that I see your place and I don't see anything that seems to belong to you, it makes me think that's what you're looking for, to belong to something and leave here as soon as there's an opportunity,"

Jaehyun looked directly at her, not knowing what to say. And afraid to think that maybe she was right.

Because yes, maybe he wanted to get out of there, along with his mom, Jeno, and Winwin; maybe he wanted to do something with his life that wasn't illegal, but what was the point of thinking about it when he knew he wouldn't make it? He was afraid to admit that he wanted to be able to change things, to be able to make his family okay, that no shadow from the past would follow them, that they would have a place where they could forge a clean and safe future.

"This has never been about what I want," Jaehyun commented with a future. "Since I was born, everything around me was the gang. After my father's death, I knew what was coming, and I knew I would never be able to get out of it. It doesn’t matter what I want. It matter what my boss wants, he has that kind of power, no one below him has their own decision. The whole life of Neo Zone is ruled by him," he concluded, even closer to her.

(Y/N) looked him in the eyes, her breath uncontrolled. Her chest heaved, and her hands were sweating.

"What do you want, Jaehyun?" she whispered.

The boy paused for a moment and looked at her lips.

"Now?" he asked, and she nodded. "Would it be unrealistic to say that I want to kiss you?"

"How realistic would it be to say that I want you to do it?

She didn't even finish the question because Jaehyun's lips collided firmly with hers. The boy's long hands slid through (Y/N)'s soft hair, her hair smelling of lavender shampoo. He gently covered her cheek with one of his rough hands, and she melted into the touch.

It wasn't a hurried kiss, as (Y/N) thought it would be; actually, Jaehyun was taking the time to savor every passing second. As if this moment would disappear at any minute and he wanted to hold onto it.

Was he looking for something to belong to?

His hand moved from her cheek to her waist, and she took the opportunity to press her body against his and release a moan of pleasure. As if she felt complete leaning against Jaehyun's warmth.

As if it was something they both longed for for a long time.

And even though she wanted to continue with the act, they were severely interrupted when a car horn sounded incessantly outside the house, causing them to separate with tremendous confusion. (Y/N)'s red cheeks were enough to make Jaehyun's heart race, but when he heard another horn, he took her hand and they walked outside in hurry.

And then, there was Jeno, being thrown out of the back of a car, blood streaming from a cut on his eyebrow, bruises scattered all over his body, and falling firmly to the ground after being thrown.

"I want this to be the last time your brother sets foot in our zone. Next time it won't be him we throw," the familiar voice of a boy from the opposing gang spoke up. Chris. Who was with the window down and smiling maliciously. "Neither will it be you, Jung. It will be the girl who will end up like this,"

Jaehyun moved abruptly from his place to try to reach the car, but it left as fast as it could, (Y/N) shocked to hear those words, didn't do anything more than approach Jeno to help him up. Then Jaehyun cursed under his breath and looked into the distance at the girl and her brother together.

And his chest tightened as he realized that now, she too had been involved.

And he believed there was no turning back, because she was right... Jaehyun wanted to belong to something.

But how selfish would it be to belong to (Y/N)?

a/n: well now you know what happened to Winwin TT. Once again I’m sorry if this took too long I promise I’ll try to update sooner this time!

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @kriizztin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae

[ilguna]

☼ the great war pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; your relationship has been rocky with finnick lately, and each time you think you can let it go, it comes back full force. it isn’t until you’re injured on the way to storm the capitol, are you able to slow down and fix what’s wrong.

warnings; swearing, blood mention, ehh gore, weapon use, death/death mention, torture mention, emotional/mental abuse, cheating, use of derogatory names such as whore, slut, etc.

wc; 9.6k

notes; based off of the taylor swift song!!

part one.

--

Your teeth crash together as your chin comes into hard contact with the ground. All you do is move your jaw and a crunch fills your ears. You’ve broken a tooth. You hope it’s not noticeable.

There’s pressure on your back, like someone’s holding you down. That’s when a second bomb goes off, much closer than the first, shaking the ground. You wince at the ringing in your left ear, struggling to breathe through the smoke.

“(Y/n).” A hard voice says, a hand grabs your jaw, turning your head. Your eyes meet Finnick’s. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You say, reaching to touch your teeth, curious to see where the piece has broken off from. With shaky hands, you assess and come to the conclusion that it must be a canine, because it’s not as sharp as it used to be.

You’re pulled into a sitting position, forced to face the gory scene that lies a few feet away. Blood has been sprayed all over the walls and down the tile. Boggs is now lying where he’d been standing less than a minute ago, and he doesn’t have legs. Just torn flesh and fabric where they were.

Katniss and Homes are by his side. A first aid kit has been presented, but you know nothing in that box could preserve the amount of blood fleeing from Boggs’s body. Still, it’s Homes’s job to find a way.

Finnick, seeing that you’re fine, moves on to the rest of the squad, checking on others. You carefully get to your feet, being careful where to step in order not to slip. Katniss crawls away to find the Holo, bringing it back to Boggs when she does. In this time, Homes has managed to put a compression bandage on one of Boggs’s thighs, but it’s soaked through already.

Finnick crouches next to Messalla, shaking him gently, going to pull out his water bottle to pour it on him. A few feet away, Jackson is shouting into a field communicator, trying to alert the base camp that medics are needed. There is no saving Boggs, though. This is too much blood. 

Katniss passess off the Holo to Boggs, who immediately gets to work on it. You turn away, not wanting to continue to stare at a man who will be dead in the next few minutes. You wander to Finnick, who can’t seem to get Messalla awake. You crouch, feel for a pulse on his neck, and find his heart is beating steady and strong.

“He’s alive.”

“Prepare to retreat!” Jackson hollers across the grass.

“Look!” Finnick yells back at her, pointing at the way you came. 

A black and oily matter geysers from the street, shooting twenty feet into the air before raining back down. A different pod, triggered by the bombs. It’s coming between the buildings, a wave growing bigger as it gains momentum.

Gunfire begins as Gale and Leeg begin to blast a path down the stones toward the far end of the block. They manage to set off another bomb ten yards away. You watch as Katniss and Homes each take a side of Boggs to grab him and bring him with.

You reach for the unconscious Messalla, lowering one of your shoulders as you begin to pull him toward you. Finnick must understand what you’re trying to do, because he does his best to help you get Messalla on your shoulder. He’s as heavy as he looks, so you struggle under the weight to get to your feet at first, but once you’re up, it’s a piece of cake.

This is not your first time carrying someone like this.

“You should’ve told me to do that.” Finnick says, you wave him off as you begin to hurry down the courtyard, desperate to keep up with the squad. 

No matter how slow you move, Finnick refuses to pass you. He keeps a steady hand on your back, guiding you forward. Ahead, Boggs is crying in pain from being jostled from side to side. They can’t carry him any better.

You watch helplessly as Peeta runs up on Katniss in an attack. He grabs the back of her jumpsuit, pulling her down. She lets go of Boggs, losing her balance, slamming into the stones. Peeta aims the butt of his gun over her head, and in one fluid motion, throws it down in an attempt to kill her. 

Katniss dodges, your pace slows, unsure of whether or not you should drop Messalla, when Mitchell tackles Peeta. The two of them tumble to the ground as Mitchell struggles to pin him down completely. It’s impossible. Peeta is fueled with adrenaline and rage as he gets his feet on the soldier’s hips, and launches him down the block.

A pod triggers. A snap fills the air. Cables appear out of the stones, encasing Mitchell, and stringing him up several feet above your head. He begins to bleed, cuts dripping blood, raining down on those who are behind far enough to watch. It must be barbed wire, because there is no other idea.

You make a wide arc around Peeta, holding onto Messalla tightly as you pass him. Finnick detours entirely, heading straight for him, as well as Castor and Pollux. You continue straight, hot on Katniss and Homes’s heels. Gale and Leeg shoot a lock off one of the apartment doors, allowing you inside. They turn their attention to the cables holding Mitchell, but the situation doesn’t seem hopeful.

A trail of blood leads you through the pink and white velvet living room. You follow them down a hallway with family photos and into a kitchen with marble flooring. They gently let Boggs down, who has lost all his color. Homes then turns to you, watching as you get down on a knee to roll Messalla off your aching shoulder.

Finnick and Pollux drag in a struggling Peeta, Castor acting as backup. Jackson manages to get a pair of handcuffs on him, and then all four of them throw him into a closet to force him to cool down. The door to the living room slams shut, several people shouting. Leeg and Cressida come in coughing, a violent gag coming from Leeg.

“Gale!” Katniss screams, but he comes in through the kitchen door less than a second later.

“Fumes!” He chokes.

Castor and Pollux work fast to grab towels and aprons to shove in the cracks while Gale struggles to keep his breakfast from covering the yellow sink.

“Mitchell?” Homes asks, Leeg shakes her head.

Boggs grabs Katniss, giving her the Holo, trying to speak. None of you can hear, so she leans down to allow him to whisper in her ear. When she jerks away suddenly to see his face, it gives you a clear look. He’s dead.

“What? Boggs? Boggs?” She shakes him slightly.

A loud bang interrupts the moment, several heads whip in the direction of the closet, where Peeta is having a tantrum. It isn’t long before he loses the motivation to continue, the kicks turning to drumming, and then nothing.

“He’s gone?” Finnick asks, looking at Boggs. Katniss nods solemnly. “We need to get out of here. Now. We just set off a streetful of pods. You can bet they’ve got us on surveillance tapes.”

“Count on it.” Castor agrees. “All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras. I bet they set off the black wave manually when they saw us taping the propo.”

“Our radio communicators went dead almost immediately. Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I’ll get us back to camp. Give me the Holo.” Jackson orders, holding out her hand.

Katniss clutches it to her chest. “No. Boggs gave it to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jackson snaps quickly. 

“It’s true.” Homes says. “He transferred the prime security clearance to her while he was dying. I saw it.”

“Why would he do that?” Jackson demands.

There’s a moment of silence as Katniss stares at Jackson, gears turning in her mind. He must’ve said something to her right before he died that’s making her hesitate. Her eyes move to look at him, but she doesn’t move her head. Her whole body is rigid.

“Because I’m on a special mission for President Coin. I think Boggs was the only one who knew about it.”

Jackson almost immediately turns her nose up. “To do what?”

“To assassinate President Snow before the loss of life from this war makes our population unsustainable.”

Jackson doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t believe you. As your current commander, I order you to transfer the prime security clearance over to me.”

“No.” Katniss says defiantly. “That would be in direct violation of President Coin’s orders.”

In an instant, guns are pulled and pointed. Those in favor of protecting Katniss shove theirs in Jackson’s face. Those who were trained by District Thirteen, most loyal to Jackson, aim theirs at Katniss. It’s a standstill.

Until Cressida says, “It’s true. That’s why we’re here. Plutarch wants it televised. He thinks if we can film the Mockingjay assassinating Snow, it will end the war.”

Jackson hesitates, then motions her gun to the closet, where Peeta is. “And why is he here?”

Katniss stares, Cressida is quick. “Because the two post-Games interviews with Caesar Flickerman were shot in President Snow’s personal quarters. Plutarch thinks Peeta may be of some use as a guide in a location we have little knowledge of.”

“We have to go!” Gale suddenly shouts. “I’m following Katniss. If you don’t want to, head back to camp. But let’s move!”

Homes lowers his gun, unlocking the closet. He lifts Peeta onto his shoulder the same way you did with Messalla. “Ready.”

“Boggs?” Leeg asks.

“We can’t take him. He’d understand.” Finnick says. He frees Boggs’s gun, slinging it over his own shoulder. “Lead on, Soldier Everdeen.”

Katniss looks down at the Holo, lost. She’s too smart to get caught up in her own pride, though, because she offers it to Jackson. “I don’t know how to use this. Boggs said you would help me. He said I could count on you.”

Jackson scowls, yanking the Holo from her, tapping in a command. An intersection appears in the open air. “If we go out the kitchen door, there’s a small courtyard, then the back side of another corner apartment unit. We’re looking at an overview of the four streets that meet at the intersection.”

You all stare at the projection, watching the colorful blinking pods. No matter what direction you go from here, you’ll be met with some danger. Katniss lets out a tough breath. “Put on your masks. We’re going out the way we came in.” A couple strong voices try to overrule her, but she speaks over them. “If the wave was that powerful, then it may have triggered and absorbed other pods in our path.”

The room goes quiet. Pollux signs quickly, Castor interprets. “It may have disabled the cameras as well. Coated the lenses.”

Gale props his shoe on the counter, he uses a kitchen knife to poke and scrape off the black oil, which has now mostly solidified. “It’s not corrosive. I think it was meant to either suffocate or poison us.”

“Probably our best shot.” Leeg agrees.

Everyone puts their mask on. Finnick pulls Peeta’s on for him. Cressida and Leeg get Messalla off of the floor. He’s not entirely awake just yet, but he’s coming around slowly. Katniss takes the lead out of the kitchen door, moving slowly to properly assess the black oil, which is now a gel substance. She figures out that it doesn’t absorb the pattern of the boot tread, so there’s no reason to be overly cautious.

The apartment complex has been completely coated. The buildings, paving stones and the rooftops are covered in a thick layer. There’s a single teardrop that hangs above the street, with two protruding shapes coming from it. The barrel of a gun and a human hand. It’s Mitchell, trapped in there forever.

Katniss waits on the sidewalk beneath Mitchell until you’ve gathered around her. “If anyone needs to go back, for whatever reason, now is the time. No questions asked, no hard feelings.” When no one begins to retreat, she turns in the direction of the Capitol.

You’re forced to move fairly quickly, afraid of the Peacekeepers showing up at any minute with how much time was spent inside the apartment. The good news is that Katniss’s instincts seem to have been correct, because as you go, it’s clear several pods have been set off. There’s a whole block littered with dead tracker jackers, suffocated by the fumes. 

A whole apartment building has collapsed on the next block, and it’s nothing but a mound beneath the thick gel. Katniss takes the responsibility of hurrying across intersections, checking to make sure it’s clear, and then waving you onward. The more you see that things have been disabled, the more you can relax.

Finnick keeps you within arms reach in case Katniss’s assessments are wrong, sometimes even pushing you back if he feels as if you’re walking a line. You try not to get too annoyed when he does this, but after the third time, you step away when he tries to grab you. You don’t need his help.

By the fifth block, the wave has finally begun to reach its limit. The gel has become thinner and less effective. The color scheme here is a baby blue, and you can tell by the rooftops that the oil didn’t quite reach. Katniss keeps a stern eye on the sunlight, and decides that it’s time to take cover since it’s going to be dark soon.

She guides you to an apartment, where Homes pulls out a tool to unlock the door. She stands outside of the door while the rest of you head inside, where you’re met with an apartment that’s laid out almost the exact same way as the one that you hid in. Only, the decoration is much more different.

No matter where you look or turn, the walls are covered in mirror shards, creating an abstract picture. When Gale flicks on his flashlight, it shines directly into his reflection, creating a colorful projection on the ceiling.

He checks the windows while Katniss shuts the door. After a couple minutes of examining the front room, he removes his mask. “It’s all right. You can smell it, but it’s not too strong.”

Katniss turns the lock on the door, giving him a nod. She heads straight inside, through a hallway that has two bedrooms with bathrooms. A spiral staircase sits off to the side of the living room that brings you to an open space that takes up most of the second floor. No windows have been installed upstairs, but the lights have been left on.

A television screen takes up an entire wall, glowing softly to provide some light. With how many chairs and sofas occupy the room, it’s obvious that this must be the main sitting room, and downstairs is just a facade. Most of the squad fall down onto a cushion, breathing heavily, closing their eyes.

Finnick is among them, patting the velvet next to him to invite you. You shake your head, shedding your backpack and some of the gear into a corner on the floor. It’s a relief not having to carry the heavy stuff anymore, so it’s easier to stand. Finnick presses his lips together.

Jackson keeps her gun trained on Peeta, despite the fact that he’s still unconscious and handcuffed. He’s laying across a blue sofa where Homes laid him down. 

“(Y/n), why don’t you sit? We don’t know how long we’ll be able to rest for.” Finnick murmurs, reaching to grab your hand.

You cross your arms over your chest. “I’m comfortable where I am.”

He tilts his head at you, mouth opening, most likely to tell you that you’re being ridiculous, when a distant chain of explosions makes the ground shake. 

“It wasn’t close.” Jackson says. “A good four or five blocks away.”

“Where we left Boggs.” Leeg says.

The television comes alive, emitting a high-pitched beeping noise, bringing other members of the squad to their feet. “It’s all right!” Cressida shouts. “It’s just an emergency broadcast. Every Capitol television is automatically activated for it.”

As if to prove her right, the television shows your group, scrambling to pick up the pieces right after the first bombing took place. A female narrates what’s happening on screen to catch viewers up to speed. Getting to your feet to grab Messalla, Jackson trying to communicate with base camp, Homes trying to slow the blood loss, Leeg and Gale shooting down the path.

The geyser of black oil begins, all of you shoot into action to try and escape, only for Peeta to lose his mind and launch Mitchell into the next pod. It catches the entire scene of you disappearing into the pink apartment. The last thing the cameras capture is Gale by himself on the street, trying to free Mitchell before it’s too late. Then the oil coats the lens.

The reporter is able to identify Gale, Finnick, you, Boggs, Peeta, Cressida and Katniss by name.

“There’s no aerial footage. Boggs must have been right about their hovercraft capacity.” Castor points out.

It then cuts to the courtyard on the other side of the apartment, where Peacekeepers line the roof across the building. Shells are launched into the row of apartments, setting off the explosions that you heard and felt, and then the building collapses. Next is a live feed, where the reporter stands with the Peacekeepers. The apartment buildings burning behind her, firefighters trying to control the flame.

Everyone is pronounced dead.

“Finally, a bit of luck.” Homes sighs.

“My father. He just lost my sister and now….” Leeg trails off.

They play the footage over and over, celebrating their victory in killing the Mockingjay and her friends. They briefly interrupt to play a pre-made montage of Katniss’s rise to rebel power, and then go right back to live feed to allow a pair of reporters to tear Katniss down. They promise that Snow will make an official statement later on, and then the screen fades back to a glow.

“Oh,” Finnick breathes, lips turned downward. “I hope Annie wasn’t watching that live.”

You press your lips tightly together, hands forming balled fists as you shove them into your pockets. Well, that’s not what you think at all. You hope she thinks the both of you are dead, because in her mind that’ll mean she never got to have Finnick back. He’ll be yours forever. Just a pile of ash mixed together.

When Finnick’s head begins to move, you try to change the angry expression on his face, but he’s quick with gauging your reaction. The expression on his face completely wipes, changing to worry. He plants his feet on the floor, going to push himself up from the couch. You stop him by holding your index finger up, shaking your head. 

“Thirteen must think it’s true if they didn’t intercept.” Jackson murmurs.

“So, now that we’re dead, what’s our next move?” Gale asks.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peeta speaks, a couple people look over, as if they’re just realizing that he’s awake again. He looks miserable, eyes devoid of life. He pushes himself upright, staring at Gale. “Our next move… is to kill me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jackson says.

“I just murdered a member of our squad!” Peeta shouts.

“You pushed him off you. You couldn’t have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot.” Finnick tells him.

“Who cares? He’s dead, isn’t he?” A tear escapes his eye, and it’s just the start of the many to come. “I didn’t know. I’ve never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I’m the monster. I’m the mutt. I’m the one Snow has turned into a weapon!”

“It’s not your fault, Peeta.”

“You can’t take me with you. It’s only a matter of time before I kill someone else.” Peeta shakes his head, looking around the room. “Maybe you think it’s kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that’s the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you’d be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?”

Katniss hesitates, Gale does not. “I’ll kill you before that happens. I promise.”

Peeta stares, weighing this, and then begins to shake his head again. “It’s no good. What if you’re not there to do it? I want one of those poison pills like the rest of you have.”

You raise your eyebrows at his demand. He’s asking about the nightlock pills that everyone was given in the case of capture. If the Capitol turned to torture, the escape would be the pill, where you would die within seconds of biting into it. Of course, you could try to live through what they have planned, but after seeing the state of Peeta and Johanna, it might be better to skip the process.

It’s unsurprising that they didn’t give him one. He doesn’t have a stable hand over his mind.

“It’s not about you.” Katniss tells him. “We’re on a mission. And you’re necessary to it.” She looks away. “Think we might find some food here?”

With this, the group splits into two. Some stay to guard Peeta, like Jackson and Leeg, while others keep an eye out for Snow’s broadcast. The half of the group that used to live in the Capitol split to begin looking for hiding spaces where food may be kept. You, however, are immediately dragged downstairs by Finnick to talk in one of the bedrooms.

After a minute of staring at each other, he speaks. “What’s going on, (Y/n)? I feel like we’re not making any progress.”

“Probably because we’re not.” You lean back against the wall, watching the way his face twists.

“We were fine a couple of days ago, and then Peeta came and we started having issues again.” Finnick pauses. “You’ve hardly spoken to me in two days.”

You shrug.

“You don’t care?” He asks. “(Y/n), this is not how a relationship works. You can’t just stop talking to me because you’re mad.”

“We’ve had this discussion about a hundred times.” You tell him. “And no matter how I explain it to you, it doesn’t seem to matter. You don’t care.”

“I do care. I’m the one making the effort to fix this right now. Why are you mad this time?”

“This time?” You echo, face screwing. “I don’t know, you’re smart. How about you stand there and think about what I’ve been trying to tell you for a couple weeks?”

“If this is about Annie—”

“Of course it’s about Annie.” You cut him off. “You and her might have verbally broken up, but you never emotionally left that relationship. It’s clear in everything you do that her feelings take priority over mine.” 

“How is that even remotely true?” He asks. “(Y/n), who do I go to bed with every night?”

“You bring Annie up every time you’re given the chance.” You motion vaguely to the door. “And it’s pretty obvious that you know what you’re doing because you look at me after as if you’re seeking gratification from it!”

Finnick lets out a laugh. “You think I get gratification from you being upset? You think I like arguing?”

“Do you think I like listening to you talk about Annie all the time?”

“Is that really the issue here?” Finnick asks back. “I think the real issue is that you don’t trust me because of what Vaughn did to you. (Y/n), I have done nothing to earn your distrust.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Am I wrong? Annie and I are just friends. You and her are friends.”

“I am not friends with her. And you shouldn’t be friends with your ex.” You spit. 

It’s exactly what Vaughn did. The girl he’d been cheating on you with was practically a coworker. She didn’t exactly work the same division he did, but they were in the same general station. He saw her frequently, which is how he got to know her so quickly. She was an easy target.

“She’s a victor, (Y/n). You and I promised to take care of her.”

“No.” You snap. “No, I did not. That was you. You took it upon yourself to take care of her, even though she has her entire family to do that for her.”

“Not anymore.” Finnick says. “We both know that they killed her family when they took her to the Capitol. Who’s going to take care of her? Do her grounding techniques?”

“I don’t know, the medical professionals that are equipped to do that?” You ask. “The doctors in District Thirteen are more than capable of taking care of a girl that’s lost her mind.”

“Once again, you’re making jabs at her, and she’s not able to defend herself. She can’t help it.”

“I don’t care!” You shout, throwing your hands up. “And you’re doing it again, thinking about the feelings of a girl who isn’t even here!” You take a breath to calm yourself, because you’re almost ready to fly off the rails. “I am so sick of having this conversation with you. You don’t get it. I don’t want to explain it anymore.”

“Listen.” Finnick tells you. “You need to trust me.”

“How can I trust you when you continue to do the things that incriminate you?” You ask him, this makes him pause. “I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. In fact, I don’t want to do this anymore now.”

This brings him back to life, “What does that mean? You want to break up with me?”

You open your mouth with the intention to tell him no, but the word doesn’t come out. You press your lips together, staring at him. The expression on his face changes completely, from anger to worry.

“(Y/n), you can’t be serious.”

You tilt your head at him. How can you trust him when he’s doing what Vaughn did, just in a different dance with different steps? Instead of a girl from work, it’s a victor that both of you mentored. He keeps running to her, to her feelings, slowly fleeing from you the same way Vaughn had.

You don’t want a repeat of Vaughn. You don’t want to spend almost a year shut inside of your house trying to fix what’s broken inside. You loved Vaughn, you put a lot of your feelings into that relationship. And you were almost willing to do the same thing with Finnick, because he seemed as if he genuinely wanted to be with you. 

You can’t trust Finnick, not completely. Not when he’s doing the same thing your ex did.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You tell him, feeling yourself distant from the conversation.

“I want you to tell me that I’m wrong. You don’t want to break up with me.” He tells you.

“You’re wrong.” You say slowly.

“That wasn’t convincing.” Finnick shakes his head. “Come on.”

“Finnick, I don’t want to be cheated on again, and you’re not really proving to me that you won’t.” You tell him, grabbing the door handle to the room.

When you leave the room, you can hear Finnick calling you back, but you ignore him. You opt to join the group upstairs, and find most of them gathered around a table in the middle of the room, now littered with food. A couple of people look at you, as if they’ve heard even a fraction of your conversation. You ignore them and sit down.

A couple seconds later, Finnick comes back, too. He doesn’t sit next to you. He finds a sofa on the other side of the room. You make brief eye contact with him before directing your attention elsewhere.

“Isn’t this illegal?” Leeg asks, referring to the hoarding of food.

“On the contrary, in the Capitol you’d be considered stupid not to do it.” Messalla says. “Even before the Quarter Quell, people were starting to stock up on scarce supplies.”

“While others went without it.” Leeg says.

“Right.” Messalla agrees. “That’s how it works here.”

“Fortunately, or we wouldn’t have dinner.” Gale says. “Everybody grab a can.”

Some of you move immediately, already having an eye on your favorite soups. A couple of the soldiers hesitate, not used to the freedom of eating. In Thirteen these cans would be rationed by age, body weight, and physical exercise. You don’t think any of them have been able to eat as much or as little as they’ve wanted in their life.

You shake your can of soup before cracking the lid open. A few people follow Katniss’s example of using their can lid as a spoon, but you opt for drinking it straight. The top is mostly broth, which is easy to drink. The further you go, the more you have to be careful to chew.

It’s when you start passing around a box of cookies when the beeping begins again. A seal of Panem appears on the screen and remains while the anthem plays. Cressida hums long, resting her head on her palm. The Capitol starts to show your supposedly dead faces, just like they do for the Hunger Games.

It begins with the camera crew of Castor, Pollux, Messalla and Cressida. It moves on to Boggs, Gale, Finnick, Peeta, Katniss and yourself. And they completely skip over the soldiers of Thirteen, likely because they have no idea who they are and they serve no real significance to the Capitol audience.

President Snow appears at his desk, hands neatly laced on the wood. The Panem flag is hung behind him, placed so it’s clearly viewed on television. There’s a white rose on his lapel, a signature he could not appear without.

He starts with congratulating the Peacekeepers on doing such a fantastic job of tracking your squad down and eliminating you quickly. With the Mockingjay being dead, he declares that this will certainly be a turning point in the war, since there is no face to continue to lead the rebels.

He then tries to deface Katniss by calling her a poor, unstable girl with a measly talent with a bow and arrow. She apparently isn’t a great thinker, and hardly the mastermind of a rebellion, merely a face plucked from the rabble because of her antics in the Games. But needed since the rebels have no leader among them.

They must have enough of Snow in Thirteen, because Coin appears on screen, a haunting smile on her face. She introduces herself as President Alma Coin, the leader of District Thirteen. She’s the head of the rebellion. She gives Katniss’s eulogy, praising the girl who managed to survive the Seam in Twelve and the Hunger Games, turning a country of slaves into an army of rebels.

“Dead or alive, Katniss Everdeen will remain the face of this rebellion. If you ever waver in your resolve, think of the Mockingjay, and in her you will find the strength you need to rid Panem of its oppressors.” Coin says.

“I had no idea how much I meant to her.” Katniss muses, earning a laugh from Gale. 

A heavily edited picture of Katniss appears. There are no words. There is no slogan.

President Snow is back. If he’s angry, it’s well masked. He speaks in a calm and collected voice. “Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen’s body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself.”

The seal. The anthem. A glow.

“Except that you won’t find her.” Finnick mutters.

You're sure as soon as the sun rises tomorrow, they’ll be tearing the rubble apart for your bodies. And when they come up with twelve missing bodies, the hunt for your squad will begin.

“We can get a head start on them at least.” Katniss says, as if reading your mind. 

She pulls out the Holo, asking Jackson to walk her through the basic commands she should know. It consists mainly of entering the coordinates of the nearest intersection. Once that’s done, a projection appears in the sky of the outside surroundings. 

The room is quiet as you observe the amount of blinking pods. It’s easily four times the amount that you saw earlier this afternoon when Boggs had the Holo. It’s going to be damn near impossible to get through a street without setting off a single one. And this is hoping that they’re all correctly labeled.

“Any ideas?” Katniss asks.

“Why don’t we start by ruling out possibilities.” Finnick says. “The street is not a possibility.”

“The rooftops are just as bad as the street.” Leeg shakes her head.

“We might have a chance to withdraw, go back the way we came.” Homes suggests. “But that would mean a failed mission.”

Katniss sighs. “It was never intended for all of us to go forward. You just had the misfortune to be with me.”

“Well, that’s a moot point. We’re with you now.” Jackson says. “So, we can’t stay put. We can’t move up. We can’t move laterally. I think that just leaves one option.”

“Underground.” Gale says.

Katniss nods, changing the Holo from showing street-level pods to the sewers. It doesn’t take long for you to realize there’s little to nothing that can stop you down there. It’s clean of pods. And the ones that are active, seem to be the easiest attacks you can deflect. This raises hopes almost immediately.

The only bad news is the streets become a tangled mess underground. There’s a lot of twisting and turning tunnels that seem to intersect. This is not enough to deter the squad, though. You can handle a confusing path, as long as you have safety in numbers.

Messalla informs the group that there’s a vertical ladder two doors down that should connect the row of apartments you’re in to the tunnels. All you have to do is squeeze through a maintenance shaft that runs the length of the building. The shaft’s entrance is in the back of a closet on the top floor.

“Okay, then. Let’s make it look like we’ve never been here.” Katniss tells everyone. 

You work together to wipe your trace. All empty cans are sent down a trash chute, the full ones are saved for later. The couch cushions have to be flipped because of smeared blood. The tiles in the kitchen are wiped clean of gel that might have come off of shoes. The one thing you can’t fix is the lock on the front door, but that doesn’t matter because you lock a second bolt, anyway.

The last thing on the list to do is to get Peeta off the blue sofa, but he’s planted himself firmly, outright refusing to get up. “I’m not going. I’ll either disclose your position or hurt someone else.”

“Snow’s people will find you.” Finnick tells him.

“Then leave me a pill. I’ll only take it if I have to.”

“That’s not an option. Come along.” Jackson orders.

“Or you’ll what? Shoot me?”

“We’ll knock you out and rag you with us.” Homes says. “Which will both slow us down and endanger us.”

“Stop being noble!” Peeta bursts. “I don’t care if I die!” He turns to Katniss. “Katniss, please. Don’t you see, I want to be out of this?”

Katniss takes a moment to think, but it doesn’t work out in Peeta’s favor. “We’re wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?”

Peeta buries his face in his hands, shaking his head before he gets to his feet.

“Should we free his hands?” Leeg asks.

“No!” Peeta snaps loudly, pulling his wrists to his chest.

“No.” Katniss agrees. “But I want the key.”

Jackson hands it over, no objections. Katniss slips it into her pants pocket. 

Homes takes the squad to the maintenance shaft, where he pries the metal door open. As soon as eyes are laid on the narrow hallway between the walls, it’s clear that the protective gear that Castor and Pollux wear for their cameras will not fit. So, they take them off, resorting to their backup cameras which are considerably smaller.

Messalla looks around the apartment, but he can’t find a good place to put the gear besides the closet. Katniss doesn’t seem happy about this. Still, you move on through the hallway, which is an incredibly tight fit, even after going single file and taking off your backpacks.

You’re not stuck in the walls for long. Messalla breaks open the second apartment, leading you to a room inside that’s marked ‘utility’. When you go inside, you’re met with a circular tube going down. 

Messalla pops the latch open, frowning. “It’s why no one ever wants the center unit. Workmen coming and going whenever and no second bath. But the rent’s considerably cheaper.”

A wide ladder with tread steps stares back at you. One by one, you head down and gather at the foot of it, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. The lights above are clearly dated and coated with dust, making it hard to see. Not to mention the smell of chemicals, mildew and sewage that assaults your nose.

The sound of heavy breathing begins, causing you to look for the source. You’re met with Pollux, who has paled and begun to sweat. He grabs onto Castor’s wrist, staring at him intensely.

“My brother worked down here after he became an Avox.” Castor informs you. “Took five years before we were able to buy his way up to ground level. Didn’t see the sun once.”

There’s a moment of silence, as no one knows how to respond. Peeta turns to Pollux. “Well, then you just became our most valuable asset.” This earns a laugh from Castor and a weak smile from Pollux.

It doesn’t take long before you all realize that Peeta’s right. Pollux takes you on his own path, onto a set of tunnels that mimic the main street plan aboveground. Apparently, it’s called the Transfer, since small delivery trucks use it to get around quicker in the city. With it being daytime and active work hours, most of the pods are disabled to avoid accidentally killing their own. At night, it’s a complete minefield.

If you didn’t have Pollux, the place would be your personal nightmare. There’s hundreds of passages, utility shafts, train tracks and even drainage tubes that form a huge maze. Not to mention the offshoots that require gas masks, have live wires or giant rats that will eat you alive. 

He alerts the group when a gush of water should sweep through the sewers, knows exactly what time the Avoxes change shifts, and leads you through damn but obscure pipes to avoid the cargo trains. And finally, Pollux knows exactly where all the cameras are underground.

With his guidance, you move quicker than you did this morning. However, after about six hours of traveling, it’s clear the squad is tired. Katniss suggests resting while you can, and no one says otherwise. Pollux finds a small, warm room that’s humming with machines. The walls are covered with levels and dials. 

Pollux holds up four fingers to tell the group that you must be gone by then. Jackson works out a guard schedule for both Peeta and in case a surprise comes around. Finnick is put on the first watch, you are not. He picks a spot fairly close to the opening of the room. 

You stand over him. Half of you wants to sit down next to him to be close, but the other doesn’t know if it’s right to do that. After the argument you had in the apartment, it might be better to put some distance between the two of you. Still, you never really sleep without him.

Before you can sit down, Jackson squeezes beside him, taking the spot. You frown, and Finnick seems to look between you two, but you don’t say anything. Only move further inside of the room, toward the back, where you rest your head in the corner, backpack in your lap.

It figures you don’t sleep well. You’re in and out of dozing, waking each time someone coughs or moves too loudly. The most you get out of the four hours is a nightmare that you can’t even remember the details of. But once you’re awake after it, there’s no falling back asleep.

By the time seven is approaching, you’re ready to leave. The room has become stuffy and humid. There’s a pit in your stomach telling you that you need to move, quickly. It makes you antsy, especially considering your gut has never lied to you in the past.

Katniss and Pollux take their time waking everyone up. It works slowly down the line, as people yawn and rub their eyes. It isn’t until the last person has been shaken awake, does Katniss suddenly hush the group, getting up slowly to lean her head out of the room. It sounds like a whisper, a long string being repeated. You can’t decipher it. 

“Katniss.” A voice whispers. Katniss jumps at the sound of her name, bow loaded and aimed at Peeta. “Katniss.” The word is almost inaudible and hard to trace back to him. “Katniss.” She lifts the arrow, pointing it at his head, the look in her eyes distancing. Peeta jerks upright, eyes wide. “Katniss!” He finds her immediately, but doesn’t move. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

Katniss hesitates. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you.” He tells her. “Run! Get out! Go!”

She lowers the arrow, but doesn’t pull it off the string. Instead, she directs her attention to the rest of you. “Whatever it is, it’s after me. It might be a good time to split up.”

“But we’re your guard.” Jackson reasons.

“And your crew.” Cressida adds.

“I’m not leaving you.” Gale tells her.

She looks around your group, deciding what has to be done. She tells Finnick to give one of his guns to Castor. They eject the blank cartridge from Peeta’s gun, load it with a real one and hand it over to Pollux. Both Katniss and Gale give up their guns to Messalla and Cressida, since they have their bows. 

There’s not enough time to show them how to do everything, so they settle with how to point and pull the trigger. Katniss warns them to be careful, though, because of the tight space of the sewers. They could accidentally hit someone if their target isn’t clear.

The only person without a weapon is Peeta. No one objects,

Pollux leads the way out of the room, allowing you to hear the whisper better. If it’s coming from mutts, they might move fast. For now, they seem to be at a far distance. Katniss tells you that she’s suspicious they’re tracking by scent, but encourages everyone to be quiet, anyway.

She follows the path she made with Pollux earlier, because she can’t find a reason why you shouldn’t. While the squad tries to be quiet as you move, it’s hard to avoid an accident every half an hour. A boot splashes in the water too loud, a gun clips a metal pipe on the wall, Katniss speaks above a whisper.

You make it about three blocks through an overflow pipe and a neglected train track when the screams stop you. They’re loud, laced with fear and surprise, coming straight from the chest. They echo off the walls, straight to you.

“Avoces.” Peeta says immediately. “That’s what Darius sounded like when they tortured him.”

“The mutts must have found them.” Cressida says.

“So they’re not just after Katniss.” Leeg assumes.

“They’ll probably kill anyone. It’s just that they won’t stop until they get to her.” Gale shakes his head.

Katniss closes her eyes. “Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I’ll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission.”

“No one’s going to agree to that!” Jackson throws her hands up.

“We’re wasting time!” Finnick snaps.

“Listen.” Peeta whispers.

The screams have stopped completely, replaced by the whispers once again. This time, they’re below and behind you. Closer this time. Moving faster than you thought.

You start to run. Katniss and Pollux lead you to a staircase. She whips out the Holo, trying to find a different path to where you’re going, when she begins to gag. Jackson orders for masks to be put on, but Katniss waves the idea away. She takes a sharp turn into a door, slamming the right half of her body into it to get out. 

You find yourselves in the Transfer. Here, it’s tiled nicely the way it is aboveground. The only difference is that there’s brick walls, no apartments. It’s void of anyone and everything, besides the group of you and the pods that lie ahead.

Katniss acts quickly, using an explosive arrow to blow a pod into pieces. She heads for the next intersection, ordering you to stay close. You try to keep up, following behind Finnick tightly, when a flash of light blinds you. You cover your eyes, peeking through your fingers to find Messalla trapped in a bright beam of light. He’s unmoving, mouth open wide, staring up. You watch as the flesh melts off his body, pooling at his feet.

“Can’t help him!” Peeta shoves you forward, causing you to stumble. “Can’t!” 

It works to get your feet moving again, as you take off behind Katniss, who is barely moving faster than you are. She comes to a sudden halt at this intersection, throwing her arm out to keep you from falling forward. A spray of gunfire cuts you off from going any further.

A squad of Peacekeepers are coming down the Transfer in your direction. Katniss refuses to step foot on the next stretch, likely because the pod is more trouble than you can afford right now, and begins to fire back at the Peacekeepers. You swing your gun up, aiming carefully before spraying bullets back at them.

Realistically, the Peacekeepers outnumber your group, which grows smaller by the hour. Still, you’re able to take out three quarters of them before more begin to come out a side door in the tunnel, flooding the area. And they’re not stopping.

“Those aren’t Peacekeepers.” You whisper in horror, as your eyes fixate on the details. It’s the mutts that have been following you. They look like Peacekeepers, since they’re about the size of a human, white, and have four limbs, but they’re naked with reptilian tails, arched backs and elongated necks. 

They mow down the actual Peacekeepers, opening their mouths wide before clamping down on the necks of the Capitol workers, ripping their heads off. Blood begins to spray, coating the pastel-colored Transfer, causing your stomach to turn. It’s only a matter of seconds before all the Peacekeepers are decapitated, and you’re the next target on the mutt’s list.

“This way!” Katniss shouts, hugging the wall and making another sharp turn to avoid the pod ahead. When everyone has gathered, she shoots behind you, activating a pod that has large mechanical teeth that chew the tile to dust. 

She grabs Pollux. “Forget the mission. What’s the quickest way aboveground?”

Pollux takes the lead again, bringing you down the Transfer and through a doorway. Tile changes to concrete. You’re forced to crawl through a small pipe. It leads you to a ledge that’s barely a foot wide. When you look up, you can see that you’re in the main sewer now.

And below is the most disgusting mess you’ve seen in your life. Human waste, garbage, and chemicals create a smell that brings tears to your eyes. You retch, forming tight fists as you struggle to breathe through your nose. The surface below is continuously moving, and some of the garbage on top is on fire. 

It’s clear that if you fall in, you’re never getting out. 

In an alcove on the other side of the bridge is a ladder. You catch glimpses of it, Pollux smacking it with his hand, pointing upward. Behind you sounds the mutts, slipping against the concrete floor. 

“Wait! Where’s Jackson and Leeg One?” Katniss asks.

“They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back.” Homes says.

“What?” Katniss lunges in your direction, but Homes grabs her to pull her back.

“Don’t waste their lives, Katniss. It’s too late for them. Look!” Homes points to the mutts that are moving quicker, now that you’re in their sight.

“Stand back!” Gale shouts, pulling out an arrow that you recognize as explosive. He aims it at you and Finnick, and neither of you have crossed the bridge yet.

“Wait!” Finnick calls.

Gale releases the arrow when he realizes his mistake. You watch as the arrow comes into contact with the bridge, a rough hand grabs the back of your protective gear, swinging you away from the crumbling edge. You trip over Finnick’s boots, landing on your knees, facing the mutts.

Up close, you can get a better and more detailed look. They’re human and lizard. They’re white with scales. They’ve got clawed hands and feet. And they have blood of your enemies and friends smeared around their mouths.

You can feel your heart shoot into your mouth at the sight of them only a few feet away. You and Finnick are their next closest target, and now you have nowhere to run. You can fight or you can jump. It doesn’t matter which way you go, because it’s going to be painful.

You whip your head from side to side, desperate to find a different solution, hoping for just one other option. Something that can save you, you deserve it after everything that’s happened to you, right?

Right, the universe must say back, as your eyes lock onto a single doorknob that’s sticking out of the brick wall. It belongs to a small door, barely half your height. You dive for the handle, aggressively turning the knob, feeling the relief as the door swings open.

“Finnick!” Your voice is shrill, trying to get his attention. You don’t even bother to turn as you begin to scramble across the floor to hide.

The room is tiny, and for a second you’re terrified that it won’t fit both of you in it. Finnick comes sliding in, squishing you against the wall while he struggles to slam the door shut. 

The mutts begin to pound at the door, trying to break it open. The room is barely big enough for the two of you to sit side by side, backpacks in your lap, feet planted firmly to the door to keep it shut. You close your eyes, head resting on the brick, sweat running down the side of your temple.

You can hear gunfire on the other side of the door, and they must set off several more explosive arrows, because you can hear the blast, feel the shake of the ground beneath your butt. For a moment, all noise stops, and then there’s one final blast that causes debris to rain from the concrete cracks above.

The mutts almost stop banging at the door completely, except for a few stragglers that refuse to leave. Neither you or Finnick move to open the door, afraid that there might be more than what you can handle right now. You’re exhausted and running low on bullets. And Finnick’s trident is not good enough for fighting those mutts. In the Transfer, they were taking dozens of bullets without slowing down.

After about an hour of catching your breath and slowly relaxing your muscles, you open your bag, pulling out the only can of food you have. 

“I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here.” Finnick says, “We don’t have the Holo. I think Katniss might’ve used it to kill the rest of those mutts.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. It was probably a way to help us.”

“How far away from the Capitol do you think we are?” Finnick asks.

You shake your head, shrugging a shoulder. You rip the can open, throwing the lid into the corner of the room by your left foot. “I think just a couple of miles now. We did a lot of distance early this morning.”

“It might be easier for us to sit here and wait for them to find us. I’m sure Katniss and Gale saw us hide in here, they can get to the Capitol and alert them that we’re here. That way, they’ll be able to tell everyone that we’re still alive.”

“They’re going to find out that we’re alive when Katniss shows up.”

“Not completely, not all of us made it out. Just Pollux, Gale, Katniss, Cressida and Peeta.”

“We lost Castor and Homes, too?”

“I saw the mutts crossing the gap by drowning each other before I came in here. Homes was too close to the edge, and Castor was about to go down, too.”

“Annie will be happy to know we’re both alive.” Finnick says.

You blink, slowly turning your head to look at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“What? I think it’s the perfect time to have this conversation. You walked away last night. You didn’t even give me a chance to respond to what you said. Do you really think I would cheat on you with Annie?”

“Finnick, you’re practically obsessed with her!” You roll your eyes.

“I have not. She’s our friend.”

“She’s your friend!” You tell him. “Which I’m not comfortable with, by the way.”

“So I’m not allowed to have female friends?” Finnick asks.

“You don’t get it.” You wave your hand.

“Don’t wave your hand at me.” He snaps.

You glare at him. “The worst part is that you didn’t start acting like this until recently.” You shake your head. “As soon as the Quarter Quell was announced, suddenly she was the most important person in your life. You wanted her to be saved from the reaping, but not me, right?”

Finnick’s face twists. “What are you talking about?”

“You practically begged me for months to volunteer over her, so I felt obligated to. I didn’t want to go back into an arena, but if not me, then who, right? Mags?” You look away from him, down at your can of food, which you’ve lost the appetite to eat. “And then during the interviews with Caesar, you completely embarrassed me. I poured my heart out to the Capitol about how in love I was and wanted to experience life with you, and then you went ahead and fucking mentioned all the important people in your life, but I wasn’t any one of them.”

You take a shaky breath, “But you know who was?”

Finnick’s sitting in silence, you turn your head to look at him, earning a blank look. 

“Annie, Finnick. You named Annie.” You tell him. “It wasn’t until we were fighting for our lives in the arena did I feel like you gave a shit about me again.” You can feel yourself calming down, but then you sigh. “When we went to Thirteen, everything changed again. You found out that Annie was taken by the Capitol. All you could talk about was her. It didn’t matter if you were delirious from the drugs or you were sober, you couldn’t shut up about her.”

A laugh escapes you, but it’s not out of humor. “I was fucking relieved when they finally knocked you out.” You admit. “I cried because it was nice not having to hear about her all hours of the day. And then all I felt was guilt for being happy that you were unconscious. And don’t even get me started on the whole rescuing bullshit. 

“When you pushed me aside in the hallway to get to the hospital faster. The two of you hugged like you were more than friends. Like you were a long lost pair of lovers that had finally been reunited.”

Once again, you’re shaking your head, the more you think about the situation, the worse it seems. You can feel the pressure in your eyes growing, the urge to cry. 

“(Y/n)…” Finnick murmurs.

You swallow thickly. “And maybe it is ridiculous for me to feel this way. All I can see is Vaughn doing the exact same thing. He was sleeping in the same bed as me, but he was also seeing some other girl. I never saw it coming.”

“I’m sorry.” Finnick starts. “I didn’t realize how bad it was from the outside. (Y/n), honestly, I think a part of me feels the need to take care of her because we were her mentors. I don’t see anything romantic in our friendship anymore.”

You slowly turn your head to look at him, unsatisfied with his answer. He must realize this, because he reaches over to take your hand. “You’re right, honey. Annie needs to be on her own.”

“Thank you.” You breathe, closing your eyes.

“I love you, (Y/n). I promise I’ll be better.”

[pannman]

Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”

I'm not on tik tok a lot so I gave that song a listen and DANG she sang fast. Love the beat. Never heard anything like it

Sorry this took so long. I was having a lot of technical issues but I got them resolved.

CW: minor spoilers, swearing, suggestiveness, cheating, mentions of abuse

Vox x Fem!reader

You were an overlord that was well known in hell for selling powerful weapons. You did most of your business through your night club. You did meetings in a separate room. Hell was full of some sexist scum bags and perverts and you were used to running into them occasionally. They would underestimate you and you would quickly make them regret it. Female overlords had to do that sometimes. Even though you dealt with firearms capable of killing sinners and hellborns alike, you weren't afraid to get your hands dirty and you could definitely handle yourself. A frequent visitor of your classy establishment was an old friend Alastor.

You two knew each other when you were alive and you stayed acquainted after death. He was always impressed with how tough you were and loved how you shared a love for the 1920s classy aesthetic which you used as the style of your night club. It was designed to look like an old speakeasy. And although it didn't normally serve sinners as a main dish Alastor grew rather fond of coming there. You kinda hoped it was you that he was there to see. He was handsome, and charming, and stylish and he could really make you laugh sometimes. (And blush.) He even asked you to dance sometimes but you were unsure whether that was just him being a gentleman or if he had romantic intentions. Eventually your crush on the radio demon grew hard to ignore and though you didn't wanna ruin your friendship you decided it was time to confess your feelings. He was taken back by it a bit.

You were surprised since you were getting terrible at hiding it. He told you he was not interested in that sort of thing but he valued your friendship. Of course initially you were crushed and embarrassed but you actually moved on from it faster than you expected. You decided to focus on your work though as expected you were a bit awkward around Alastor after that. So you decided to distance yourself from him a bit until you were ready. You were of course invited to overlord meetings. So when you got an invitation to meet on short notice you actually were pleased for a distraction. You had the time so you made your way there. When you arrived you found that there was few that could make it. Alastor was not even present. Oddly enough you hadn't seen him in a while. You wondered if he decided to distance himself as well. Maybe he was more bothered by it than you thought.

The only people present were Zilla who was a very large feathered Dino overlord, Carmella who usually hosted these meetings and also sold weapons, and one of the Vees... Vox actually. You weren’t very fond of the guy who was your friend's biggest rival so you tried to sit yourself far away from him. You sat next to Carmilla although you guys were competitors, you kept things civil. Unlike Alastor and Vox. She thanked you for all for coming on such short notice. The conversation was going productively despite the very few people present. It was strange though as you felt a feeling of eyes on you.

You turned to catch a certain TV headed demon staring at you. As soon as he realized he was caught he turned away quickly. You wondered if he had stared at you like that before despite how little he came to these meetings himself. He usually sent Velvette. And Valentino had never been to one as far as you knew so you knew practically nothing about him. As you were lost in thought, you ended up staring back at him. As soon as he noticed was when you snapped back into reality and embarrassedly turn your head away blushing. This gave Vox the confidence he needed. He started openly flirting with you at the meeting. you were feeling embarrassed, pissed off and a tad bit flustered. 3 things that when combined made your brain malfunction as you poorly tried to keep your cool. Your reaction only encouraged him more. Luckily the meeting ended soon after that.

As you walked down the sidewalk, you realized he was following you. He told you he had liked for a long time but never had the guts to make a move until he caught you staring today. This was an oddly vulnerable moment for him and as you looked in his eyes you saw he was sincere. you agreed to go out with him. you guys took things slow at first but it eventually became a deep and passionate relationship. He had walls that came down when it was just the two of you. His persona and exaggerated ego disappeared to reveal and sweet and humble gentleman. He could be very protective of you sometimes. Which you sorta liked. Even though you could handle yourself, you didn't mind his protective behavior. It was actually kinda hot.

though you thought it was odd that you still hadn't formally met his business partners. you didn't know much about them especially Valentino. You tried not to question it much. Both of you being overlords with businesses could sometimes make you too busy to see each other. He seemed stressed and overworked lately. So, you decided to surprise him by visiting him at work. You slipped on something nice (and slipped on something naughty underneath) and went to see him. you were he told he might be on the top floor so you took the elevator. And when the door opened... you saw Vox... underneath what you could only assume was Valentino. It didn't take you long to figure out what they were doing. You ignored Vox's pleas and attempts to stop you as you left in tears.

You devoted yourself to your work after that. Deciding you didn't need a man in your life at all. And for seven years things went well. Then one day, Alastor resurfaced. He actually showed up at your club, casually acting like he had been gone less than a day. He went and struck up a conversation with you. You tried to stay mad at him, you really did. But you missed him. And that bastard put on the charm to get in your good graces. Before you knew it you were agreeing to help him run a hotel for sinners he was working on with princess of hell. You after all owned a business yourself so you had plenty of knowledge to offer.

Your involvement with Alastor caught Vox's attention. He was already furious about Alastor's return but hearing you were working with him made his blood boil. He decided he was going to find a way to talk to you. He was going to tell you the truth. He was going to make things right.

When you went out to lunch by yourself you were caught off guard when your long time ex sat across from you. He refused to leave until you heard him out. Vox had never used his powers of hypnosis on you (as far as you knew) but you were still weary so you refused to look him in the eye as you reluctantly listened.

He told you Valentino was an extremely dangerous unstable person and was often abusive. Val knew that Vox was seeing you and was actually jealous at how much time he spent with you instead of him. He threatened to hurt you if Vox ever left him for you. And at the time, Vox didn't feel he was strong enough to protect you. He also knew that if he told you any of this that you were the type to try and pick a fight with Val. And he was afraid you would get hurt. But, he promised that this time he was going to end things with Val once and for all. His power had grown a lot recently and he believed he was strong enough now to cut off Val completely. You looked at him after hearing all this and saw the same vulnerable and sincere expression that convinced you to believe him on that first day. You agreed to give it another try but only if there were no more secrets and you guys were a team. He promised and you two embraced. You were ready now to face whatever struggles came your way together.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

“Just A Bird”

Kai Anderson x gn!reader (ig)

Warnings! ANGST. Trauma, allusions to cult manipulation, manipulation, abüse, infidelity, allusions to domestic abǔse, groooming, extreme psychotic break, a little hallucination, mentions of drǔgs (metaphor), Kai Anderson, not proofread

(Will cause emotional damage (real) (not clickbait))

Based on the (absolutely underrated) song by The Weekend:

6 months with Kai was all it took to break my self respect. If you asked me 5 months ago, I would have said “I’d never let a man do that to me”, with confidence.

But here I am, pleading on my knees for a man who only looked down at me with a look of disgust and boredom. Yet if he asked me to, I’d lick his boot at that moment, if it pleased him. If it made him smile at me, or praise me.

Especially if it kept him from cheating.

There she was, another figure in the shape of an hourglass, and large breasts sitting on our his couch in the basement. There were too many to count now, so they began to blur into the same shape. I could never tell if it was a different girl every time any more. They were no different to me. Even I wonder how I haven’t grown to hate this man yet, always threatening to replace me with other women. It seems everything I do is wrong, and so every day comes with punishment.

I’m beginning to regret all those pinky promises, trusting him with my stories of trouble with loyalty, and how much it meant to me. He used it as a weapon, and he practically laughed in my face about it. It was like I was addicted to him like a drug, addicted to the pain. Like somehow, I believe subconsciously being with him will help me solve my issues. If I just learned my lesson one more time, I’d get it. There was this disgusting feeling of comfort with him, even when he was looming over me as I groveled beneath him like a pathetic worm.

Hot tears burned my cheeks as I clawed at the fabric of his jeans, climbing up his calves. I could tell just how disgusting my face must look, almost seeing the mess of tears and snot, the piggish color of pink that stained it, through the mirror of his eyes. I wondered if this is how the Wicked Witch of The West felt when Dorothy melted her into a puddle. Except if Dorothy was a man with blue hair and a sadism kink.

“Please just let me fall out of love!” I beg. I swear I can see the woman in the corner laughing at me, snickering to herself at the display with a snooty look, her legs crossed and revealing the rim of her stockings, through the thick tears watering over my vision and making the world a glass painting. The sight strokes a fire in me, but when I blink, it seems she has no reaction. As if she’s sitting there with zero amusement to the sight.

“It won’t be long before I fall out of love!” The shaky words, choking and sputtering with my gasping sobs. I can barely make out the sadistic smile that twitches across his face at the pitiful display.

A grin that to my horror that only gets bigger, like a Cheshire cat.

My heart skips a full beat, thudding and pounding, when he leans down closer to my face. “Do you think you get to walk away from me?” He croons to me slyly.

“I own you, lamb.” He practically spits the words into my face like I’m some mutt he’s found the time to mercy.

“So, you can either behave, or you can watch.” He doesn’t sound angry like the other times, almost sounding like he’s impressed at my manic state. Not at what I’m capable of, but what he's capable of doing to me.

A thick sob stuck in my throat shivers out into a whimper and I sink lower to the floor, like a dog being scolded. My eyes peering up wider, the tears silently falling on their own. It was wrong, it was all so wrong. But he looked like a fallen angel with the light above creating a glowing ring around him as he stood tall, creating a pillar of a shadow before me.

“Remember, lamb. This was your choice. No one forced you to join, now it’s your responsibility to deal with the consequences of your actions.” He says it so methodically, as if it’s just a normal protocol. Like he’s my coworker reminding me of the dress code in the office. Frustratingly, he was right. I asked for this, at the end of the day. And now I was met with the karma of my actions. I knew what Kai Anderson was about, didn’t I?

So when he slid his hand around the waist of the woman he brought home, leading her up the stairs from the basement. All I could do was watch. Watch the way he massaged her hip just like he had done me, the way her too short tight skirt rode up her thighs as she walked up the stairs, or the way her hair bounced behind her back. Even the small smirk he turns to give her, his eyes flashing back at me for a moment with a single frame of judgment and distaste. I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

The tears had shaken me so dry, that all I felt was the throbbing of the blood pulsing through my veins, rushing through my ears and making my whole body pound like a drum. My face felt tight with the dry, salted tears. But there was nothing, I couldn’t even form any thought for longer than a second, all I could do was stare. Stare, and feel the flicker of a flame of hatred towards the man I once loved like a loyal dog, spark inside of me from that very moment. Before long, a flame to become a fire. A fire, to anarchy.

“You’re just a bird.” Is the only thing I could utter last, under my breath, as the door closed behind them.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @americanwh0rerstory @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420 @songbird-garden