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

[gothamcityneedsme]

thinking about how fucking dare she say this to a fellow leader.  lol.

[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 💚

"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."

[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.

[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.

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 3/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: I’m sorry this took too long to post!! 😭😭 but I been so busy with college rn, I’m going to graduate this year so I’m like having a lot of work lately, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I was writing so that was the reason it took longer than expected, sorry!

I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind l had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.

I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!

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

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

skz catching you reading fan fiction

pairing: idol ot8 x reader

wc: ~5.4k

warnings: lots of reader being embarrassed obv. pet names, hyunjin’s is a tiny bit angsty (sorry), a very brief joking mention of dying in seungmin’s

an: some of the fanfictions mentioned in this are mine and have been linked. others i just made up. 💕

masterlist

⋆｡‧˚chan˚‧｡⋆

“Come here. Across my lap, princess.” He ordered.

‘oh this is getting good’ you said quietly to yourself. you were in bed, cuddled up under the covers, the only light coming from the screen of your phone. your eyes flashed across the page quickly, needing to find out what happens next. it had clicked in your brain earlier today that there could quite possibly be fan fiction about your boyfriend floating around on the internet somewhere. you were aware of his fame. but that’s not why you’re with him, even though that’s how you met him. you had been together for a while now, and you cursed yourself for not thinking of this sooner. of course there’s fan fiction about him. and even though it makes you cringe in a way, you couldn’t stop yourself from immediately searching for it as soon as you got home. chan is still at the company, always working the long hours, so you were unsure when he would be home. but you assumed it would be late. so you allowed yourself to get lost in the world of stray kids tumblr. you had read a few already, but this one, this one was spicy. you could feel that familiar throb in between your legs.

“Honey..” He said in a surprised tone. “You’re so wet.” He ran his middle finger up your slit, playing in your wetness. He gently prodded your entrance. You moaned quietly against his thigh. “Only a couple more.” He said, then he spanked you again.

you squeezed your thighs together, briefly thinking of grabbing that buzzing friend from the top drawer of your nightstand. but before you could do so, the bedroom door opens. a tired chan enters, setting his bag down. you let out a gasp and clutch your phone against your chest as he looks up at you, suspicion on his face.

"whatcha doin, baby?" he asks.

"uh.. no-nothing." you stammer back. real smooth.

"why are you hiding your phone from me?" he looks a little concerned now as he sits on the bed next to you. he didn’t want to let himself think that you may be romantically talking to someone else. but he couldnt help it. you could read his feelings all over his face. and as embarrassing as it was, you couldnt bare for him to think you were cheating. it’s best that you just tell him the truth.

"i.. i might have been reading a story.. about you. written by a stay." you say, unable to look at him. you stared at the outlet on the wall across from the end of the bed.

he laughed. "fan fiction?!" he exclaimed, laughing even more. your face turned a bright red. "show me. let me see." he said, reaching for your phone.

you held it tighter to your chest. "no!" you argue, pulling away from him.

"cmon baby. let me seeeee." he whined, reaching for your phone again. you held it out of his reach, so he used his not so secret weapon. he started tickling your sides. you immediately screamed in pained laughter and folded your body in on itself and toward him, trying to detach his hands from your skin. he let go, grabbing the phone, and jumping off the bed. he ran to the corner of the room and you sat up on your knees on the bed. you didn’t move any closer, having realized your defeat.

"Good girl baby, suck daddy’s cock, choke on it, you can do it, take it all, that’s my girl…?" he read aloud. his sentence ending in a question, not having thought that the fan fiction you would be reading would be smut. the tips of his ears turned slightly pink, and you covered your face with your hands before he could look at you. "you’re reading a fan fiction called ‘his good girl, always’?" he asked, slightly stunned. but you could hear the amusement returning to his voice. "what does dom daddy chan mean?"

you groaned. "is this what you fantasize about, baby?" he asked but you couldn’t answer him. "look at me, honey."

you shook your head no, still covering your face with your hands. "i said look at me, princess. cmon, be a good girl." an involuntary whimper escaped your lips at that, and you slowly peeked at him over the tips of your fingers. a smirk was on his face, one dimple poking out, his eyes dark with lust. "let’s finish reading this, yeah?"

⋆｡‧˚minho˚‧｡⋆

“hey min?” you called. an answering grunt came from the other room. “could you pass me my phone? soonie is sleeping on my lap.”

you were sure he heard you. you could hear him get up from his desk and walk to the nightstand to get your phone. but that had been a couple minutes ago. what was taking him so long?

"minho?" you called again. he slowly shuffled into the living room, your phone in his hand, his face pointed at the screen. there was a smirk on his face.

oh shit.

you remembered what you had been doing on your phone last. you were sure you fell asleep earlier with tumblr open to the story you were currently reading. you enjoyed reading fan fiction about your boyfriend, though you never wanted to admit that to him. you felt like you might not have a choice in the matter now. you had been caught. he stopped a few feet away from you, still scrolling, his eyes moving back and forth as he read. the smirk on his face only grew as he continued to skim the page.

"min, give me my phone please." you said quietly. he held a finger up, shushing you.

"My cock drunk little slut, takes my cock so good." he read from the screen. "is this what you’re always reading on your phone?" minho asked, finally looking up at you.

you buried your head in your hands, scaring the cat off you lap. "i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me. you have the real me, you know?" he said. "why am i always calling the reader kitten? is that a thing that stay thinks i like?"

you groaned. you could feel him come closer, until he was standing right in front of you. he dropped your phone onto the couch next to you, you could feel it bounce on the cushion. "hello?" he asked. you still couldn’t look at him. your face burned with embarrassment. your whole body burned with embarrassment. he wrapped his hands gently around your wrists and tugged. you let him pull your hands away from your face. he let go of your wrists and then used his fingers to tilt your chin up, so you were facing him. he was grinning, and you couldn’t help but notice the veins running up and down his arms. his arms never failed to make you a mess for him. "is that what you want? for me to call you kitten?" you tried to look away from him, but his grip tightened on your chin. "ah ah." he scolded. "answer me."

"i- it’s- um.. it’s something that i’ve thought about.." you admit. his thumb moved to gently stroke your cheek.

"you should have just told me that." he says, sweetly. "you want me to manhandle you too, like in that story? want me to use toys and eat my cum from your pussy?" his thumb has made its way to your lips now. gently rubbing back and forth before pressing into your mouth. you wrapped your lips around the digit, running your tongue around it.

"mmhmm" you mumbled around his finger.

"i think that can be arranged.. kitten." he purred.

⋆｡‧˚changbin˚‧｡⋆

you were sat in the corner of the room, butt on this hard ass wooden bench, swallowed by your boyfriends hoodie, face buried in your phone. changbin had begged for you to go to the gym with him today, and so you agreed. he’s so cute when he pouts and puffs his little cheeks out. but you had no intention of working out with him. you just said you would come. so he’s working out while you watch from the sidelines. and oh boy you could watch him work out for hours. he was currently doing the bench press? bench pressing? he was laying down on the bench thingy and pushing up on the bar thingy with the heavy thingies on the ends. chan was spotting him but changbin didn’t need it. he was all sweaty and yummy. so buff. were you drooling? see this is why you were looking so intently at your phone. if you watched him work out for too long, you got all soft and gooey and you didn’t want that. but looking at your phone wasn’t helping either. in fact, tumblr may be making your situation worse. but you couldn’t look away. not when there was a detailed fan fiction in front of you about your boyfriend. you were just reading it at first because it interested you. you know, for science. did they describe him correctly? did they get his size right? you were surprised to find out that the stories were actually pretty accurate. so then you kept reading. and now your 8 thousand words deep in a slow burn smut fic about him and you just so happened to get to the good part while you were in the gym with him. fuck. your body started getting hot. you stretched and removed your hoodie from your body. you kept scrolling, the content getting spicier and spicier. he was doing what with his tongue? holy shit why hasn’t he ever done that to you in real life?

"are you hot baby?" his voice pulled you from your fantasy land and startled a jump out of you.

"ah!" you exclaimed. you held your phone close to your chest, your cheeks burning up and flushing red. he was standing in front of you, sweaty. his black muscle shirt sticking to his body. he wiped the sweat from his face with a small white towel. your mouth filled with saliva at the sight of him. you forcibly swallowed before answering him. "uh.. yeah i got a little warm." you tell him.

"are you okay? you seem a little flustered." he sits down next to you on the bench. he chuckles to himself. "you know, you’re acting like you usually do when i’m teasing you."

your face and body were on fire. you looked down at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but at changbin. your silence must have been loud.

"baby?" he reaches for your arm. you flinch at the contact, not out of fear, but out of desire. you were in the gym and you were so embarrassed. you couldn’t have him touch you at all, not even on the arm. your phone clattered to the floor, having lost your grip when you flinched. you immediately reached for it, but changbin beat you to it. and of course, just your luck, he glances at the screen as he hands it back to you. "what’s this baby? what’re you reading?" he skims the page some more. "those are some naughty words.." he says, quieter this time. you try to take the phone from him but he moves it out of your reach, continuing to read. "this is about me?" he says a little too loud.

"bin, give me my phone back please." you say, reaching for it. he hands it over.

"sure baby. i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me." he was smirking at you. clearly poking fun. "and it was dirty fan fiction too. baby. i didn’t know you were so naughty." he chuckles.

"binnie.. please don’t. i’m flustered enough as it is."

"was the story that good?" he asks, serious now.

you nod. "it’s pretty good, yeah. and we’re here in the gym and you’re all sweaty and muscly and i’m about to loose it, bin."

he outright laughs now. "okay baby. let’s get you home and you can tell me about your story." he stands and takes your hand, leading you out to the car.

⋆｡‧˚hyunjin˚‧｡⋆

"You are so beautiful, baby.” He said, stroking your cheek. “Such a pretty girl, about to suck her daddys cock.” You could feel your panties getting wet. “Open.” He ordered.

you absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, trying to get any friction you could, so absorbed in the story you currently had open. you were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, your elbows on the countertop. you eyes were glued to the screen. you were in the kitchen to make some dinner. you were hungry and you knew hyunjin would be home soon and probably would want something to eat as well. but now your hunger for food was long forgotten as a hunger for something else took over your mind. you didn’t even hear hyunjin put his key in the lock and open the door. he kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag, but you had no idea. one hand was against your mouth, the other hand had a death grip on your phone, thumb scrolling away at the text. hyunjin approached from behind, a little entertained that you hadn’t noticed him, and curious about what has you so focused. he peeks over your shoulder to glance at your phone.

The image of him above you may as well have been holy. It was holy to you. He was a god, and you worshipped him as such. “Fuuuck, baby.” He moaned, breathlessly.

he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, scaring the daylights out of you. you jumped, dropping your phone, it clatters noisily onto the counter.

"what are you reading, angel?" he asks softly against your neck. he places a small kiss there.

"nothing." you lie quickly.

"didn’t seem like nothing." he hummed against your skin. "seemed kinda dirty. can i see?" he reaches around you for your phone and you don’t stop him. you know that you will never win an argument against hwang hyunjin. his long fingers close around the device, and he stands straight as he brings it to his face to look. you straighten as well, but you don’t turn to face him. you don’t want to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve been reading.

"are you reading smut about me?" he asks. when you don’t answer, out of embarrassment, he gently grabs your shoulder and turns you around. "is this fan fiction?" you slowly nod your head, not looking at him, trying to understand his tone. he sounded upset.

"are you unhappy with our relationship?" he asks. that startles you to attention. you look up at him, his eyes filled with sadness.

"what? no, jinnie. absolutely not."

"then why are you reading this, if not to get something that you crave?" he argues. "am i not fulfilling your needs?"

"no. you are. i just—"

"i don’t understand why you would need to read this, unless you’re unhappy with me." he cuts you off. "especially smut. if i’m not satisfying you sexually, then we need to talk about that."

"that’s not it." you tell him. "i started reading it while you were away on tour because i missed you so badly. and some of it is actually.. good. so now, when i miss you and want to picture different scenarios about you, i’ll read some. i promise it has nothing to do with our relationship. it’s just fun to read what stay writes about you. and that one i was reading just now.. is pretty hot.." your cheeks flush. "i was actually going to bring it up with you to see if maybe you wanted to try something like that.." you look down at your hands, twirling your fingers together.

"you promise? if there’s something wrong, i can’t fix it unless you tell me about it." he says, holding you by the shoulders.

"i promise."

he’s smiling down at you now. "well then i guess let’s see what you’ve been reading. i saw you rubbing your thighs together, it must have been good to get you all hot and bothered like that." he starts reading the screen again. his smile grew the more he read. "so.. the part that you like.. is it the face fucking? or the daddy/princess dynamics?" he asks, seriously. but you feel it straight in your core. your panties sticking to your skin.

"i kinda like all of it.." you say quietly.

he sets the phone back down on the counter and brings his hand up to stroke your cheek. you noticed he was still a little sweaty from practice, and that only made you wetter. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your mouth, his lips so plump and soft. he pulls away only an inch or so and then says against your lips, "well then get on your knees, princess."

⋆｡‧˚jisung‧｡⋆

"hey sungie, could you grab my phone?" you ask, just getting out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your torso and reaching for your comb.

"sure." he pauses whatever game he was playing and gets up to retrieve your phone from the bed for you. when he grabs it, he looks at the text filled screen. it only takes a moment for him to read the words.

‘that’s it baby, you like it when i ride your cock like this?’ ‘yes mommy.’

he felt his cock twitch in his pants, and his ears flame with heat at the same time. he drops the phone back on the bed and turns around and leaves the room immediately without saying anything to you.

"sungie?" you look after him, worriedly. you drop your comb and follow him into the living room. he’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, biting on his thumb nail. "what’s wrong?" you ask. he doesn’t answer you. he just keeps pacing back and forth. you wonder what the heck has gotten into him. you return to your bedroom and grab your phone from where it was laying on the cover. you look at the screen. that fan fiction you had been reading was still open. oh no. was he freaked out that you were reading this? you’d never told him about it because you thought it might freak him out, and maybe you were right. you returned to the living room. han was sitting on the edge of the couch now, a blank stare on his face, his mind a million miles away.

"did you read what was on my phone?" you ask him.

he looks up at you, startled. "uh yeah, i did. i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to read it, it was just open and a couple words jumped out at me and i couldn’t help but read them but i promise i wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything it was an accident, i-" he was rambling.

"sungie, it’s okay." you cut him off. i don’t mind that you looked at it. i have nothing to hide. especially from you." you smile at him.

he looks back down at his hands, silent yet again.

"did you want to talk about it?" you asked. "do you have any questions?" you walked over and sat next to him on the couch. he leaned back, throwing his head over the back of the couch dramatically, his eyes shut. you noticed his hands were covering the tent in his pants. so he must have liked what he read you thought.

"it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now. i can go back to the bathroom and we can talk about it after you’ve had time to think." you move to stand from the couch but han grabs your wrist. you look at him, his eyes wide.

"you were reading fan fiction about me?" he asked quietly. you nodded at him. "and you like to read that stuff?"

"i do." you answer him. "is that okay with you?"

he nods slowly, still thinking pretty hard about something.

"what do you like about them?" he asks.

"i just like to imagine different scenarios about you. especially when you’re gone on tour and i miss you. but i must admit, i’m pretty partial to subby jisung." you tell him, smirking. you loved to tease him. his face flushed a bright pink at your words.

"what’s subby jisung like?"

"well," you start, placing your hand on his thigh. "subby jisung is very needy, and whiny. he just can’t help it, he wants the reader so bad."

he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to adjust his pants discreetly, but he fails.

"do you like the thought of that?" you tease. "did you like what you saw? the reader in that story was riding subby jisung as he begged. is that what’s got you hard?"

he shook his head no.

"then what was it?" you ask. he removes his hands from his front, fully exposing his erection to you, only hidden by his sweatpants. he makes grabby hands at you, and you smile. you stand up from the couch and drop your towel to the floor, fully naked in front of him. "what do you want, sungie? what did you read that you liked so much?"

"mommy.." he said quietly.

"what was that?" you say, teasing him some more. you loved it when he got like this. all soft and shy. you leaned down and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, clinging tightly to his small waist. you tugged them down and off him completely, his cock standing at attention.

"mommy.." he said a little louder. "please.."

"please what?"

"ride me, mommy. please." he begged. and how could you say no to that?

⋆｡‧˚felix‧｡⋆

you were both on the couch, facing each other, your legs tangled together. felix was playing a game on his switch and you were scrolling tumblr. it didn’t take long after you found the fic for you to start rubbing your thighs together. you “accidentally” brushed your foot against felix’s pants.

“hey angel, be careful where you’re kicking.” he giggles, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“sorry lixie.” you say softly, trying to hide the neediness in your voice. apparently you failed, because felix put his game down and looked up at you.

“what’s the matter, flower?”

you just shake your head no, still staring down at your phone.

“did you watch that maniac fan cam of me again? baby i know you like the ending fairy but im literally sitting right here. i couldn’t even perform because i was injured.”

that makes you smile a little. you do really love that performance. it’s his smile at the end. but no, you were wet from something else this time. “no, that’s not it.” you tell him.

“then what?”

you just shyly hold out your phone to him. he gently takes it from you and skims the words on the screen quickly. “oh. fan fiction? i’ve read this one actually. it’s pretty good but i wouldn’t say it’s my favorite one.”

you look at him, shocked. “you’ve read that one?”

“yeah i think changbin and i read this one together actually.” he laughs. “i try to stay away from the smut, because it’s a little weird to read that about yourself you know? but occasionally one will pop up and i’ll look it over.” he hands the phone back to you.

“pop up? pop up where?” you’re still shocked, mouth hanging open.

“on my tumblr.” he says matter of factly. “my favorite ones are the fake text ones. the unhinged ones where im sending funny memes.” he’s laughing again and you’re just looking at him. his beautiful face and you’re just in awe of him. of course this man would read his own fan fiction. he’s chronically online. “so.. are you going to tell me what you read that got you all bothered?”

“uh.. i just thought it was hot.. you know?” you say quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

“you like the thought of sucking me off while im playing games online? isn’t that what that one is about?”

you nod slowly.

“you just like the idea of sucking me off? or is it the thought of han or jeongin hearing you on the other side?”

you groan, grinding your hips into nothing. “lixie..” you whine.

“what, angel? i’m just trying to understand you.” he teases. he moves to climb on top of you, your back against the couch cushions, him hovering above you, caging your head with his arms. “do you want to talk about it some more?” he leans in closer. “or do you want to maybe act out your favorite fan fiction with me?” he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you’re lost. nothing exists but him.

⋆｡‧˚seungmin˚‧｡⋆

what choices had you made in life to bring you to this point? alone, in bed, one hand in your pants and the other hand gripping your phone, tumblr open. your favorite seungmin fic filling the screen. you had started reading fan fiction about him, and you weren’t proud of it. you just wanted him so badly. and if you were going to fantasize about him, might as well have some help from the internet, right? maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better. you had known seungmin for a little while now. you have had a crush on him for just as long. it might even be more than a crush if you’re being honest with yourself. ever since you moved into the dorms, you’ve had some huge heart eyes for the guy. but he’s so intimidating. you were scared to ever talk to him. so here you were, hand down your pants, alone at the dorms, moaning his name.

“fuck. seungmin. yes.” you moan to yourself. maybe you were being a little too loud. but you didn’t care. no one was home, and it felt too good. your fingers making sloppy wet sounds as you pumped them in and out. the mental image of him above you had you right on the edge of release. when suddenly.. there’s a knock on the door.

shit.

what the fuck do you do in this situation? you yanked your hand out of your pants so fast, and pulled the blanket up over your head like there was someone actually in the room with you to hide from. you held your breath. trying to be as quiet as possible. after a minute or two, there it was again, the knocking.

“i know you’re in there.” he said. seungmin. you would know his voice anywhere. you’ve been obsessed with it for months now. “are you decent? i’m coming in.” he warns. and before you have time to panic about that, the door cracks open and seungmin sticks his beautiful head inside. he looks around and sees that your hiding under the covers. he walks in and sits on the edge of the bed.

“so.” he starts. “i think we should probably talk about that.” he pokes at what he thinks is your leg, but he can’t be sure. you’re just a pile of blankets. you pull the blanket down to reveal your face, bright red cheeks and watery eyes.

you look at him, but he’s not looking at you. he’s staring at your phone, which is laying on top of the covers, still on and open to tumblr.

“is that my name on the screen?” he asks, emotionless. you couldn’t tell if he was mad or disgusted or intrigued. he pointed at your phone with his index finger.

“i can explain.” you say.

“no need.” he looks into your eyes now. “you’re obviously reading fan fiction about me while you touch yourself. what else is there to explain?”

you seriously wanted to crawl into a hole and die. you prayed for the earth to swallow you up in that moment. where was the alien invasion when you needed it? “i— i guess you’re right..” you mumble. “there nothing else to explain.” you look up at the ceiling, tears pricking your eyes. “i’m sorry.” you tell him.

“don’t be sorry. i quite enjoyed hearing your moans from outside the door. what a thing to come home to.” he smiles his teasing smile at you and in that moment you’re glad that you’re in bed and not standing, because your legs turned to jello.

“i didn’t know my roomie was such a slut for me.” he says, reaching for the blanket. “my little slut.”

⋆｡‧˚jeongin˚‧｡⋆

god, your boyfriend had beautiful hands. you had this thought every day, multiple times a day. but you could never say anything to him. you were way too shy for that. and wouldn’t that be weird? ‘hey, innie i think you’re hands are really sexy.’? you were embarrassed just thinking about it. so you kept it to yourself. suffered in silence, drooling over his hands. you had recently turned to tumblr to fulfill your jeongin hand needs. and that was working out fine for a little while. but now, sat on the couch next to him, it’s like his hands are sending out a signal. a loud blaring siren that says hey! here we are! look at us!

the way he’s holding his phone, the muscles flexing as he uses his thumb to scroll instagram. your mind was immediately filled with dirty thoughts. so against your better judgement, you opened tumblr and continued reading. was it dangerous to read this while sitting so close to him? sure. but you couldn’t just excuse yourself to the other room without him having questions. so it’s either this, or just openly stare at his hands until he notices. what you didn’t anticipate however, was him putting his hand on your bare thigh, slowly rubbing your leg up and down, lovingly. he was doing it absentmindedly, ghosting his fingertips across your skin as he scrolled. you were sure your panties and your pajama shorts were probably soaked through at this point.

you forced your eyes back to the screen, but it only made things worse. in the real world, he’s gently rubbing your leg. in tumblr world, he’s wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing. you accidentally let out a whimper, squirming in your seat. his hand stilled on your leg as he looked up at you. you dropped your phone onto your lap, and covered your face, mortified.

he laughs at you. “you’re adorable. why’re you hiding?” he reaches to try to pry your hands from your face. his fingers wrapping around your wrist send a shiver through your body, straight to your core.

“are those my hands?” he asks, chuckling nervously. you peek in between your fingers and see that your phone was displaying a rather large close up of his hands. somehow, the story you were reading had scrolled all the way back up to the top. there was the title of the story, and a picture of his hands. well fuck.

“i— uh-.” you stammer.

he holds his hands out in front of his face, turning them over and examining them. “what’s so special about them?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. “you must really like them if you’re reading fan fiction about them.” he laughs. “but i’m right here. you have the real thing on the same couch as you. why read about it?” he asks.

your face is bright pink. “i was embarrassed..” you admit softly.

“embarrassed? how long have you been thinking about this?”

you kind of shrug as an answer, meaning it’s been a while. he reaches for your phone, and before you can stop him, he’s scrolling. “choking?” he looks up at you. “is that what you want, baby? for me to wrap my hands around your pretty little throat?” your eyes went wide and you swallowed hard. “aren’t you going to answer me?” he teases. “i bet my big hand would fit almost all the way around..” in one swift motion, he wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, forcing you onto your back, him kneeling in between your legs. he leans over you, his breath against your cheek, his hand slowly sliding up your chest, his index finger playing with the little dip at the base of your throat.

“i’ll put this hand here..” he says, wrapping it around your throat but applying no pressure. “and i’ll put this one here.” his other hand finds your soaked pajama shorts. “already prepped, baby.” he places a soft kiss against your lips before sliding his hand into your panties, his middle finger finding your hole. “let’s see how long you can last.”

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[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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[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.

[a-ikuoliver]

────────⌕ SEARCH: IO/KATSUKI-BAKUGOU

updated 11th june 2024

masterlist • archive of our own • wip updates • my kofi please bear in mind all my works will be female/femme reader & remember to check the warnings

worship me | nsfw 18+ | 2.9k — 26/04/2022 *originally posted to gwen0m

summary: an unforgettable autumn night at your private catholic college when Father Bakugo approaches you after late-night studying at the church’s library. warnings: noncon, unprotected vaginal sex, blasphemy, manipulation, dacryphilia, corrupt priest, breeding & threatening

before he cheats | implied nsfw 18+ | 1.8k — 11/08/2022

summary: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and god, does it turn a man on with that fire in your eyes and bat swinging in your hand, ready to key the car of the man who wronged you. warnings: feminine pronouns/nicknames/descriptions, fantasising, mentions of weapons (bat, knife), bakugou gets horny over crazy girls

what's your favourite scary movie? | nsfw 18+ | 4.9k — 03/11/2023

summary: finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets. warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b

do something, babe, say something | angst | 2.0k — 09/11/2023

summary: you tell katsuki bakugou you love him for the first time warnings: gn!reader, miscommunication, self sacrifice

wired | nsfw 18+ | 9.3k — 15/12/2023

summary: honing your kickboxing skills with pro hero dynamight can lead to a) insane improvements of your skills, becoming the best version of yourself with each critique you get, b) a crush like no other you’ve ever had in your life, or c) all of the above? warnings: fem!reader (“girl”, “cunt”, “pussy” used) slight age gap but not a main plot point, a lil bit of violence, making out, brattish reader, choking (ish), hair pulling, dry humping, slight edging, public sex, unprotected sex, implied use of birth control

bad enough for you | nsfw 18+ | 4.0k — 15/01/2024

summary: bathrooms at house parties are only made for one thing warnings:  fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)

like a girl does | nsfw 18+ | 6.7k — 19/02/2024

summary: you're finally being introduced to your girlfriend's friends, invited to a last minute party, any confidence melting from you when you see another girl clinging to her arm. warnings: fauxcest (bakugou referred to as your step sister/sister), dubcon, bakugou is TOXIC, feminine/girly reader (she/her pronouns; wearing makeup; nails + a dress; long hair/out/on her face), reader referred to as a puppy (degradingly not petplay lmao), pet names (pretty + baby), emotional manipulation, cheating (on reader, implied to be with ochako but not overtly), alcohol + weed mention, reader a lillll bit of a crybaby, public/car sex, oral (r! receiving)

fantasise | nsfw 18+ | 1.5k — 20/04/2024

summary: katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them. warning/s: m! & f!masturbation, sex toys, fantasising

god is a freak | nsfw 18+ | 2.8k — 11/07/2024

summary: god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer warning/s: fertility god!bakugou, f!reader, voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up

bakugou helping you out when your piercing gets stuck — 11/12/2022

kiri n bakugou, under v overstimulation [nsfw] — 16/11/2022

katsuki watching a rabbit review [nsfw] — 27/10/2023

lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off — 14/11/2023

"make me" [nsfw] — 06/12/2023

if katsuki ever lost his memory — 12/12/2023

sleeping with bakugou — 24/12/2023

big brother bakugou [nsfw] — 11/01/2024

valentine’s day — 09/02/2024

childhood best friends — 23/03/2024

teasing him [nsfw]— 09/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + strawberry daiquiri — 26/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + jagerbomb [nsfw] — 27/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + bloody mary [nsfw] — 27/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + cosmopolitan — 05/05/2024

sirens call — 09/05/2024

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[sundrop-writes]

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The joke's on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie,the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: Another re-post of a fic I really, really love. This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it’s very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don’t know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines ‘I’m the kind of kid that can’t let anything go, and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and split your throat’ and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations’.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve’ and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can’t. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n’s feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight. 

Until she met you. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you. 

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice. 

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers. 

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you. 

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you. 

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you. 

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own. 

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help. 

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first. 

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.” 

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!” 

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay. 

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly. 

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones. 

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.” 

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it. 

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so. 

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it. 

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace. 

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him. 

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone. 

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly. 

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her. 

Your reaction was the worst part. 

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man. 

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie. 

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie. 

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical. 

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point. 

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise. 

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face. 

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first. 

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful. 

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him. 

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests. 

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment. 

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it. 

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you. 

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up? 

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling. 

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away. 

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off. 

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that. 

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it. 

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed. 

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed. 

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people. 

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again. 

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself. 

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you. 

You smiled when you looked up and saw her. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.” 

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words. 

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again. 

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-” 

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?” 

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter. 

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.” 

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain. 

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you. 

Ellie shook her head vigorously. 

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it. 

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.” 

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears. 

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?” 

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely. 

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.” 

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else. 

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed. 

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you. 

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses. 

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was. 

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness. 

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards. 

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight. 

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her. 

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing. 

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’ 

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her. 

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door. 

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified. 

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her. 

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly. 

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger. 

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was. 

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves. 

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.” 

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible. 

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-” 

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat. 

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive. 

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-” 

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob. 

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet. 

You refused to answer. 

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now. 

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you. 

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.” 

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly. 

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain. 

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.  

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-” 

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner. 

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance. 

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed. 

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.” 

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived. 

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head. 

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you. 

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking. 

You remained painfully silent. 

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.” 

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.” 

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison. 

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival. 

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.” 

Ellie was downright insulted at this. 

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words. 

You found it difficult to believe her. 

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch. 

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.” 

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy. 

She wouldn’t have to. 

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand. 

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help. 

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.) 

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned. 

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him. 

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice. 

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel. 

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out? 

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch. 

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck. 

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan. 

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…” 

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help. 

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind. 

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you. 

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort. 

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.” 

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment. 

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly. 

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers. 

“Ask me.” She told you. 

You both knew what it meant. 

‘Ask me for my help.’ 

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’ 

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out. 

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.” 

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.” 

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor. 

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.” 

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in. 

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine. 

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’. 

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault. 

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out. 

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought. 

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard. 

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork. 

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal. 

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.  

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement. 

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere. 

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case. 

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol. 

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented. 

Clearly, it was too many pills. 

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many? 

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself. 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented. 

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied. 

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled. 

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink. 

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.” 

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this. 

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on. 

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her. 

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip. 

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place. 

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal. 

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him. 

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it. 

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation. 

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend. 

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked. 

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you. 

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden. 

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold. 

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them. 

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower. 

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her. 

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone. 

But she was firm in her convictions. 

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod. 

He nodded back and then closed the basement door. 

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling. 

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam. 

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away. 

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action. 

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool. 

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily. 

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!” 

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say. 

In regards to the question, she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.” 

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was. 

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her. 

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over. 

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly. 

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly. 

“Fuck you!” He choked out. 

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained. 

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool. 

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.” 

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him. 

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?” 

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him? 

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation. 

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.” 

“What’s option three?” He asked. 

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable. 

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for. 

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.” 

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked. 

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.” 

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-” 

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue. 

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways. 

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-” 

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him. 

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there. 

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him. 

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself. 

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh. 

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake. 

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress. 

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.” 

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-” 

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it. 

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation. 

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths. 

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity. 

“Okay.” He finally agreed. 

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to. 

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do. 

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt. 

It was about keeping your conscience clean. 

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again. 

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic. 

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head. 

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words. 

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.” 

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away. 

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you. 

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked. 

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door. 

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside. 

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you. 

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.” 

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you. 

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-” 

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands. 

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.” 

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request. 

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. 

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?” 

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town. 

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied. 

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel. 

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it. 

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.” 

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you. 

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life. 

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.” 

… 

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’. 

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not. 

… 

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom. 

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you. 

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow. 

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.” 

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun. 

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them. 

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued. 

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound. 

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her. 

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound. 

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself. 

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked. 

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time. 

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy. 

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask about a sequel or a continuation for it, because there won't be one. If you liked it and you want to comment on it, please comment on the body of work that I have written. Or feel free to check out the many other works I have written on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!

[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

[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.”

[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.

[l44serbeam]

— TIRED OF YOU ʚɞ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

← 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞

warnings — blood, gore, swearing, violence, disassociation, weapons

The second Ellie stepped foot out of Jackson to find y/n, she no linger had control of her body. She walked hours and killed dozens of infected and kept going with empty eyes. When she comes across a note leading her to y/ns whereabouts, she doesn’t hesitate to follow it. On the other hand, y/ns stumbling through her surrounds deliriously, helplessly trying to find supplies or anything to help keep her alive.

“No! You’re cheating!” Y/n hissed, leaning over the table to smack Ellies hand.

“Im not cheating! You just suck at this game.” Ellie snickered, placing down another card.

“Its not a game of skill dumbass.” Y/n rolled her eyes, and placed down another card.

“Then your luck sucks.” Ellie replied before placing another card. “UNO!” The girl barked, her voice coming out more eager than warranted and jumping in her seat.

“YOU BITCH!” Y/n yelled, laughing with skepticism laced into her voice.

“C’mon y/n/n. You know what you gotta do.” Ellie said, her tone jokingly condescending.

“Fuck you.” Y/n said as she placed the only usable card she had.

Ellie didn’t spare a second to slap down her final card, jumping up and raising her arms in the air and laughing hysterically.

Y/n laughed as she watched Ellies antics, at that time being her best friend of a year and a half.

Three gentle knocks on the door made the two stop for a second, the door opening to reveal Joel.

“Whats going on in here? I can hear you from the porch.” He said but not in a chastising manner.

“Ellie being a cheater is what.” Y/n said as she grabbed the Uno cards and began shuffling them.

“Am not!” Ellie squeaked. “Shes just mad shes shit at every card game ever.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and flipped off the girl before her, igniting a hyena kind laughter from her.

“I think this games gonna fuel a rivalry.” Joel chuckled slightly. “Y/n, Maria is asking for you to talk about some job for tomorrow.”

“Shit.” Y/n cursed under her breath. “Yeah let me grab my stuff and ill go to her.”

Joel nodded and closed the door.

“What job for tomorrow?” Ellie asked, squinting her eyes at y/n suspiciously.

“Shes making me pick up some grunt work. Says itll help me ‘find peace’ and ‘distract myself’.” She said, saying the reasons in mocking voices.

“The fuck. You’ve been having shitty jobs for like weeks now. Thats not fair no one else our age is doing those jobs why do you have to?” Ellie began, starting to get riled up to what in her eyes was unfair.

“Its fine Els i don’t mind. Not like I have anything else to do. I like being busy.” Y/n reasoned, shrugging off Ellies worries.

“You’re going to get burn out quickly y/n if you’re doing this shit every day.”

Y/n turned around to face Ellie and crossed her arms and looked at the gurl with round eyes. “Ellie im fine. Ill be fine. If i get burnt out then i rest but i enjoy this. I get to go into the forest around us and it’s peaceful.”

“I still don’t think you should let them make you do these things y/n. I don’t want to see something happen to you.”

“Ill be ok Ellie. If anything happens to be ill beat up whoever made it happen.”

Ellie laughed and looked at her best friend, her fave soft and eyes happy. The sun that shone against her back casted an aura of gold around her head and hair. Ellie couldn’t identify the pitting feeling in her stomach, but it was there, swallowing in on herself.

“I dont doubt it y/n/n.”

The night was hollow and bloody, Ellie crouched over a lazily burning fire. She looked into it, her eyes empty and glazed.

It’d been over 48 hours since Ellie had left Jackson.

Shed walked and shed walked. She checked every building shed come across, killing dozens of infected along the way.

After almost a day of walking, shed finally reached the warehouse that Luke had marked on the map, anxiousness and excitement picking at her chest as she looked at the rusted building.

Shed desperate begged whatever was above to find her. To walk into that factory and the only attack shed receive was y/n’s warm embrace.

But, Ellie knew her life had a habit of not going the way she wished.

Searching through the factory, she found dozens of dead infected littering the floor, the blood pooling around them still shimmering against her flashlight. It hadn’t been ling since they were put down. She inspected their wounds, the majority having stab wounds instead of gunshots.

She knew. She knew that y/n was the one to do this. That her y/n, pained and hungry had killed dozens of these infected in a fight to save her life.

This conclusion Ellie had come to was only solidified when she came across an opened closet in the first floor, blood staining the ground of it. But what caught Ellies attention wasn’t the blood of the ruthless scratches carved into the door. It was the arrow sticking out the wall by the door, pinning a polaroid onto the wall. It was simply a picture of the forest, green blooming everywhere and the suns rays reflecting off the leaves.

Ellie knew this was y/ns way of telling the girl she was alive.

With hope prickling at her ears, Ellie took the arrow and polaroid and went off to try to track her.

Now, the day later, Ellie had set up a fire to warm herself before she kept on her search, her feet aching in pain and her arms burning.

She didnt care how long shed have to be out there, she knew she had to find her. She couldn’t bare knowing that the last time the two interacted was an argument where she’d said things she couldn’t even think of repeating.

When Ellie pulled off the arrow, not one, but two polaroids fell, another one hidden behind.

The e’s. The handwriting only confirmed the polaroids and arrows belonging to y/n.

Staring down at the miswritten e’s and scratchy writing, Ellies eyes solidified as she breathed in deeply.

She stuffed it into the pocket and exited the warehouse, searching for the sign that was referenced in the note.

After walking around the perimeter, Ellie found a path that went downwards and led to the near by deserted town below the elevated land. Next to the beginning of the path was a big yellow metal sign with a black arrow pointing down the path.

Ellie straightened her back and breathed in, flicking open her pocket knife in a smooth action and holding it readily at her side. She began lunging down the path, alerted and ready to get through anything and anyone.

Step after step, breath after breath, y/n stumbled into the beginning of the town, seemingly unbothered and unclaimed.

Her head was faint and hazey, the plentiful blood that had rolled down her legs had practically dried onto her skin and muddy sweat beaded at her neck.

For the past 24 hours, y/n had been painfully taking down infected. Her lack of supplies left her clutching onto holding reality.

The burning sun beamed down on her for hours, evaporating basically all the water from her body, but no where was there any replenishment for that loss of water. Her fatigue weighed down on her and the empty grovel of her stomach made her fragiler.

A pharmacy.

Y/n felt the world around her sharpen when spotting the weathered words on the wall of the building before her, reading 24 HOUR PHARMACY.

She peered in through the windows as best as she could before losing her sense of control and pushing her way inside.

She looked around desperately, the place obviously not exactly flourishing with left behind items.

“Bingo.” y/n whispered upon finding a few supplies hidden behind the checking counter.

A bottle of alcohol, a few rags, and a protein bar. Desperately she collapsed to the ground to claw at the supplies, ripping the cap off the alcohol and pouring it on a rag. She leaned to her leg and hesitantly held the cloth over the wound on her leg.

Taking a few shaky breaths as she prepared herself of the torturous burn she was going to feel.

3… 2… 1…

Hot, red, flashing pain shot through y/ns body, her moth hissing and head hitting the counter behind her. “Jesus fucking christ.” She groaned, reaching over to the protein bar as her other hand held the rag. She ripped it open with her teeth and ravished the thing, the chocolate flavor blessing her dry, swollen tongue.

But what is it that they say, all food tastes amazing when you’re starving, right?

“Ok boys lets do this quickly!”

The hairs on the back of y/ns neck immediately stood and the fog in her brain subsided.

“Groups of two, alright? Leo and Nick with me, rest go. Kill anything and anyone you come across.” The voice of the yelled from outside the pharmacy, close enough to a broke glass that y/n could clearly hear their conversation.

Her hand desperately clawed at the ground around her is search of the knife shed had all along. Once grabbed, she pulled it against her chest, arm at ready for any sudden action.

Then, the sudden noise of the ring of the pharmacy door opening, followed by the shuffling of feet.

“Look ‘round. See what you can scrounge up.” A dark, rough voice ordered from the door.

Y/ns grip on her knife tightened and her breathing settled.

Go.

@lady-curpse @depressionandobsessionsessi-blog @muthafuckingstargirl @slut4vampire @evangelinejxy @lanasluverr @galacticstxrdust @lazyotakuofficial @agalswrittingobsession @dania7361 @jolieetoile @star-j0 @macaroni676 @gocryariver @a-beee @elliewilliamsissobabygirl @daddysfavoritesexkitten @dergy @dakota-dream @hangel0veb0t @randomhoex @l0v3e1i @stvrl1ght333 @ilovemydinoboi @bertandfearnie @luvwanda @hotgirlsshareaccounts @boobabietch @lazyotakuofficial @imaginexred @miadean

a/n — the way this is a day late and i havent posted the robin fic i was supposed to a few days ago😭😭 im so sorry yall this week has been CRAZY. i went to my first ever pride this weekend and got fuuuuucked up, i saw a few friends of mine perform (but it was a monday night and felt the consequences of my actions the next morning), i bought my first car ever by myself 🥳🥳🥳(finally a bitch can get out of the public transportation shes been trained to use since she was like 10💀), and i did an interview for a new job im trying to get and it went surprisingly well. these next few days ill b posting a bunch of stuff ti make up for my delays so i hope u enjoyyy.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Pleaaaaaase give me and all of us ALL the lore I would love it 🥹

Yay!!! Let me try and go in order of events?

Actual essay below the cut

Lilith! So, in this universe, there is obviously no deal with Xaden to keep Vi "safe" in the rider's quadrant, but Lilith sends her anyway because she still thinks Vi will be safer in the quadrant than in the scribes, venin-wise. Because of this (in the quadrant with no Xaden) a few things happen! Vi's generally MORE aware of the venin adjacent issues, she's less confident with her lightning, and when it becomes clear to Lilith that Col. Aetos is after Violet, she knows she has to figure something new out.

The storm! The storm is Lilith's doing. @k2jk and I chatted about this briefly, and they summed it up pretty well in that Lilith starts the storm to try and delay Vi from reaching Athebyne entirely, but when that fails, she adapts and overcomes (if you will) and decides to use the storm to keep Vi in the cave with Xaden. Obviously, she doesn't have the deal in this universe, but she knows Xaden, at the very least, cares about the venin problem, as she suspects Vi will too. Also, Vi had THREE dragons, so she was fine, battle-wise. I think in canon Lilith is out of town (LOL) when war games happen, but in this specific universe where (again) Vi doesn't have X looking out for her, I think Lilith would be a lot more hands-on (in her very Lilith way). Also, Lilith clearly has a thing with like, storms at times other people would not want a storm. Seems her love language is just ruining people's day!

Xaddy! So Em and I (@maethologies) captured the Xaden lore in this as instead of being a child of divorce as he is in canon, he is instead a child of PLEASE get a divorce!! I don't know what the math is precisely, but canonically, Fen Riorson had to have been pretty young when he had Xaden, because Sgaeyl is AROUND fifty, I believe. This led me to conclude that his mom would be pretty young too? So there's that part of things, and then add in the fact that their marriage/betrothal/sex pact was contractual and not out of love, and that Fen HAD to be a pretty hard core guy in regards to his commitment to the revolution, and I think we have a nice recipe for some issues! Amy @skyfallscotland's original prompt was that either the Tyrrish Rebellion never happened, or it happened differently, and I decided to take the happened differently route of things. And when considering how things could have happened differently, my first thought for a variable we actually know about was Xaden's mom. So, I made her Poromish (which I think she is, I just think she's hiding in the Isles in canon). Basically, the idea there is that she left when he was ten, but she did come back, and she was pretty in and out of his life. She's not queen, because his parents aren't married (afaik) but she's...around? sometimes? But, her presence in Tyrrendor was able to get Poromiel to throw some extra troops/weapons/money/ whatever who knows at the Rebellion, which helped the Rebellion win. Another thing Em and I talk about that is relevant to this fic is that we both see Fen/unnamed woman who is Xaden's mom as a mirror of xaden/cat, or what xaden/cat would have become, sans Vi. To ME, this means they were pretty toxic, fought a lot in front of Xaden, general manipulation what have you. If we ever get Xaden's mother's first name I will probably succumb to my demons and write a full prequel fic, but that day is not today!

Xaddy part 2! I said this elsewhere, but Xaden's gryphon gift is basically his second signet! That's how he cheats at rock paper scissors (what a guy!!) and that's how he repeatedly reads her mind throughout the fic. Vi doesn't seem to know about gryphon fliers having mind work gifts in canon until X tells her, so I assumed she wouldn't know. Also, like, of course he bonds Sgaeyl eventually. Of course. Not to @ Amy twice in one post, but I think of it as VERY similar to Keep Quiet in that it's like, we know this guy. We know his destiny. We Know. So yes, he bonds Sgaeyl EVENTUALLY, but not on page. I have an idea, actually, but I don't want anyone else asking me to write a continuation of this AU, so I don't want to say it publicly just yet, LOL.

I think that 's it for now? If there's anything else lore-wise anyone else was wondering about, feel free to ask!!

[jp---v]

Part of me wishes that Midoriya never received One For All. As a disabled person, it always seemed like Quirks and the lack of Quirks were (in some ways) a metaphor for disability. The whole "Can someone be a Hero without a Quirk" just read as "Can I be Someone if I am disabled". And the answer was no. The answer was "You're useless, but I can fix you". I know that it would make so many arcs and part of the story either way more difficult or probably just impossible, but I wish that Midoriya stayed quirkless. He was built up as being incredibly smart and I wish we got to actually see that instead of. Big Punch. Big Kick. Fight Win. I wish that instead we saw him be resourceful and intelligent, I wish he was a bit more like Eraserhead or Nighteye, where they have weapons to help them fight. I wish we saw him fall behind physically and get support from teachers in the areas he was failing, see him go from just barely scraping by to succeeding because he has support, anything other than just handing over the cheat code to being a "Good Hero". I wish Midoriya's story was actually about if it's possible to become a hero without a quirk, and I wish the answer was yes.

Sorry for the big chunk of text, I've been thinking of this for. A while.

Ok, first thing first. Minor notes.

Paragraph breaks are your friend

You probably could've made your own post and more fully fleshed out your thoughts without having to worry about the ask character limit.

Now onto answering.

Yes. The series would've been completely different if One for All wasn't in play. Several arcs would have been impossible for Midoriya to participate in the Big Final Fight, and an action series where your protagonist can't join the fight, isn't set up for success.

But there are different avenues that could've been taken. A bigger focus on Underground heroics. Behind the scenes info gathering, undercover work, stake-outs, and all the dirty side of heroics people don't get to see. Eraserhead is an Underground hero himself, there's no way he couldn't have done with a quirkless Midoriya what he did with Shinsou and more, because he's his homeroom teacher. Weapons, tactics, Underground contacts. Then there's Midoriya getting to use his brain to design support gear and strategize his way around his opponents. Why set him up as this super analytically-minded person if it rarely comes into play? He's just another 'hit 'em till they stop fighting back' hero in the end.

But him losing One for All sucks too because he never even actually got to master it. The thing he's been trying to do since he got it. The series set this huge, important goal with easily trackable benchmarks(the percentages) and tosses it to the wayside, only for him to still fail at saving Tenko(because Tenko's been gone for years. A memory isn't a person).

On a wider scale, the series could've explored the themes of discrimination against quirkless people instead of brushing them away almost entirely. The fact that by the end of the series everyone was acting like quirkless discrimination never existed, and were instead focused on heteromorph discrimination, may have partially come from the fact that Bakugo is a 'fan favorite' gag me and Horikoshi didn't want to acknowledge him being the bigot he was pretty clearly shown to be early on. So it all got swept under the rug and "never happened." Because that would also require recognizing Midoriya's trauma, and the series has never once acknowledged it or taken Midoriya's pain seriously. Like honestly, Midoriya being so starved for human contact that he let's Uraraka call him Deku, even after explaining that it's an insult with years worth of weight behind it(and her still calling him that after he explained it), then making it his hero name? This terrible insult you've been called for pretty much your entire life, that's what you want to be known as for the rest of your life and beyond? And after Bakugo's alleged "apology" he switches to the overly-familiar Izuku, as if they're actually close friends and he still isn't violently screaming and insulting him like he has for years.

And as far as "support from the teachers" goes... UA actually sucks, just, as a school. He couldn't get support when he had more power in his pinky than most teachers have combined, even when he kept breaking that pinky. Eraserhead doesn't want 'students' to make into 'heroes' he's making paranoid little child soldiers. Despite having high grades, a 'saving people' mindset instead of wanting to be a hero for fame or money, which should put him pretty high on favorability compared to most of his classmates, but no, he's the Problem Child because he can't control his quirk. But does he ever get any actual help? Extra training? Quirk counseling? Nope! He gets thrown to the fucking wolves until Gran Torino sees what's happening and comes out of retirement to help this poor child no one else is helping. Crazy how Midoriya spent a couple of months at UA and his control never got any better, but just a week with someone actually training him and he can finally use OfA without hurting himself.

I forgot where I was going with this tbh.

Anyway... the story could've been completely different if Horikoshi acknowledged Midoriya's trauma, showed the effects of quirkless discrimination, and actually let the teachers teach in a series with the word 'Academia' in the name.

If Midoriya had had any kind of suppprt from anyone in his life, and was less hyperfocused on quirks specifically so he could think about support gear, then yes. He could've been a hero. Not the bright, shining spotlight kind of hero, but still a hero.