#mind you a couple days ago it barely touched 17°

[oblivion-wonderlust]

resisting the urge to go buy some gin and tonic water and limes but this hot weather is really making me want to sip on gin and tonic

[imaginesig]

“I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU + Written parts

You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?

Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”

I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.

~~~

A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.

In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.

In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?

Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”

“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”

“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.

“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.

“Y/n” kimi whines.

“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.

Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.

With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.

~~~

yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others

yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴

tagged: no one

Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖

yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you

user1 my fav intern 😍😍

user2 she always delivers 👏👏

user8 and grinds until the end everyday

landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt

yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment

landonorris proud of your work always!!

yn_norris🫶🫶🫶

martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!

maya_weug lovely panel❤️🏎️

hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!

user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post

user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???

user5 he stays in her likes

user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar

user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship

user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track

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~~~

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.

With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.

“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.

“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”

“Pretty right,” he says.

“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.

“How do you wanna pose?”

“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.

“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”

We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.

“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.

“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”

“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.

I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.

Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.

~~~

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others

oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere

tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris

yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”

landonorris you twat

yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…

oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys

landonorris we only made a couple…

oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours

user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO

user2 they were ready to square up

yn_norris I kicked his ass

user2 OMG SHE REPLIED

user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹

user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such

user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others

Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏

tagged:no one

olliebearman 💪💪

Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎

user1 happy with the results this weekend!!

user2 ok scenic shot

user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect

user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?

user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…

user6 ok grandma get back to bed

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Yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others

Yn_norris: España, mi amor

Tagged: lilyzniemer

oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t

yn_norris cry me a river

landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨

yn_norris choke

carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️

yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!

Riabish gorgeous!!

abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you

yn_norris 💋💋

user1 she ate this up

user2 first pic >>>>>

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yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶

Replies:

landonorris

who what when where why

idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved

wdym “idk”

Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram

I have a plan no fear

🙄

Kimi.antonelli

I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too

I can see that

so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from

as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee

not happening

lmao ok

Not my hill to die on

I love you

I love you too, have a great day

Oscarpiastri

your bother is pacing

Lmao good

Let him squirm

Yes ma’am 🫡

~~~

The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.

When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.

“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.

“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”

“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”

“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.

“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.

“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.

“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.

I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”

Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.

“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”

“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”

“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.

“I love you Lan.”

“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”

We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.

~~~

f1updates

Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others

f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris

used1 WHAT

user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card

used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie

user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else

user5 lando’s face killed me

user6 he was just as shocked as we are

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kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??

tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris

yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭

Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️

landonorris 😑

yn_norris fuck off

prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆

User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER

user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her

user3 yea I think Lando almost did

user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭

carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨

danielriccardo so it is true

landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER

Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse

landonorris mate.

danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then

yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section

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~~~

The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.

When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.

“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”

Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”

“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.

~~~

landonorris

Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others

landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜

Tagged: lewishamilton

yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton

yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶

landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶

user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET

used2 with no warning either 😭😭

yn_norris also for the record I did nothing

Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry

user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week

Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪

landonorris 😑

yn_norris lando try that again.

landonorris 👍

user4 you still did great!!

user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭

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yn_norris

liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others

yn_norris big weekend :)

tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli

landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??

yn_norris I mean a lot happened

danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you

yn_norris 🙄✋

Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️

yn_norris love you too ♥️

user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹

olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏

yn_norris anytime care bear

user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT

user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND

tagged: yn_norris

yn_norris omg I love you ♥️

Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️

user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭

user2 you can tell he’s so excited

oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?

landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose

Kimi.antonelli no comment

yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions

landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now

Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n

carlossainz55 I guess I like you

Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?

Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate

yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective

danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it

Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁

user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates

user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to

landonorris this is cute ig

Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win

yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main

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yn_norris

liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others

yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”

tagged: Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶

yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it

user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???

landonorris wtf is that last picture

yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️

user2 I love them so much 😭😭

User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep

Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?

danielriccardo this is is a very important question

yn_norris very 🥰

landonorris cancel the plans guys

Kimi.antonelli I’m scared

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yn_norris

Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others

yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌

tagged: Kimi.antontelli

Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍

landonorris absolutely not

danielriccardo I’m watching you

carlossainz55 stop right there

yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒

oscarpiastri 👶🚫

yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???

Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed

yn_norris possessive much

user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi

user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl

user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother

lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰

abbiepulling they are too cute!!!

yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶

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[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / 

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere. 

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?” 

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial. 

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped. 

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable. 

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most. 

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.  

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.” 

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

 *********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was? 

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain. 

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured. 

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch. 

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing. 

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came. 

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

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[spicysoftsweet]

summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?”  You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.  

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

[chil2de]

bestie, you gotta give us some kinky gojo sooner or later😤

i actually haven’t written gojo for months but— bestie i hope this was kinky enough for you😳😳 i can always take it up a notch [wink wink]

readmy disclaimerrr <3 thanks enjoy

also: i vibe with second year gojo more than i do present gojo but, that would make him 16-17 so lets bump him to a third year, thanks!

w.c: 1.5k / characters: 8.5k (incl spaces)

-

icy cold and curious fingertips easily curl around your waist, padded digits carefully kneading the delicate skin underneath your uniform. your head snaps to face gojo, who only passively stares past you and outside the window at the cityscape whizzing by.

“satoru—“ you grit through your teeth, swatting his prying fingers away from you. he hisses a meek sigh of hurt, cooing at you through his plush lips.

he leans down to whisper in your ear. pretension drips in his tone and you can feel the heavy weight of his grin flash against you.

“come on now, baby girl. don’t tell me you were all talk earlier.” he hums, tone low and rich. it sends acid bubbling in your stomach, throat clogging and ears ringing.

“we’re on a train, you fool. can’t you wait until we get home?” you snap at him, turning to face the doors of the train. you wiggle out of his inviting and enticing touch, opting to wrap your hand around a nearby handle for some support.

his large and calloused hand wraps around yours. he’s adamant about this.

gojo’s toned chest collides against your spine. you can feel the brush of his dick print heavy on his jet black uniform. he rests his jaw on your shoulder, tinted shades sliding down to the bridge of his nose. you meet his azure stare in the reflection of the door and he gives you a small smirk, free hand traversing underneath your arm to give your breast a small squeeze.

“so what if there’s people on this train? no one’s in this cart right now.”

it would be a miscalculation to say that it took you less than a second to melt into gojo’s coaxing words. you may always try to believe that you’re the more mature partner in your relationship, but you’re equally as terrible as he is.

“you’re awful.” you snort at him, reaching out behind you to run your fingertips through his soft titanium white locks. his hair has the fresh scent of coconuts laced through it.

“but you still love me.” he hums, trailing the tip of his tongue against your neck. you can’t help but jitter a little at the temperature difference and the cold air that clashes against the wet patches afterwards.

his teeth nibble against the skin there, lightly pulling and tugging. as much as he wants to leave bite marks, he’s not about to deal with infections. he decides to settle for second best and instead works to suck and pull onto your neck. you can feel the slight crackle and static where the small nerves underneath your skin burst.

“don’t look away.” he murmurs, commanding you to keep watching him in the reflection.

gojo’s saliva dribbles down your neck, sliding trails down into your shirt that lies underneath your jacket. your thighs squeeze and rub together as you emit small whimpers. it’s music to gojo’s ears, the way you’re writhing underneath him and pressing up against his cock. it almost makes him want to allow you the thing that you crave so dearly.

“satoru-“ you exhale breathlessly, resolve faltering already.

“swear you were against the idea of us fucking on a train minutes ago?” he drawls, finishing up his masterpiece on your neck.

“s-shut up” you grunt, breaking off the eye contact. you can't stand to see how his eyebrow perks up in mockery, the way he peeks at you through his thick lashes.

gojo grabs fistfuls of your hair, yanking you back with such force that it leaves your eyes glassy.

“you want me to stop?”

you swallow thickly, shaking your head.

“that’s my good girl. open your legs for me, yeah?”

when gojo spins you around before crouching down himself, you’re left with shock and awe painting your features. your lips hang in a wide ‘o’ as you gawk down at him.

“no.” you guffaw.

right here, right now?

he’s still going to tease you, even on a train?

his hands pry your legs open, pretty pale face staring up at you. but holy shit, if he doesn’t look so good like that. for once, you understand why he gets off so much whenever you stare up at him during blowjobs.

he bundles your skirt up, hitching the fabric up before letting out a low wolf whistle. he scoffs, lips tugging into a grin and he glances at you with amusement.

“you’re so fuckin’ cheeky. how long were you prancing around like that?”

he eyes the glistening juices that slick against your cunt, how the viscous liquid paints the inner portion of your thigh. it shimmers in the fluorescent light, clashing against the soft pink tones of your pussy.

“all day, actually.”

at this newfound information, gojo lifts an eyebrow up in concern. his long middle finger prods against the entrance of your cunnie. he presses into it, applying pressure, but never really enough to fully finger you.

“so needy. waiting for my cock all day?”

gojo suddenly dips not one, but two of his fingers deep inside you. you swallow him up instantly, sucking him in and taking his digits down to the knuckle. he’s fucked your pretty little pussy too many times to count, curled his soft fingers and massaged your walls for months. he has no difficulty in claiming your sweet spot, kneading into the spongy crevice there.

he cranes his neck up a little, running his tongue down flat against the length of your cunt. he twirls the muscle around your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud whilst his fingers procure obscure squelching sounds.

you whine a pathetic plea, yanking some of his strands and thus pulling his face forward for more friction. he slips his fingers out, opting to slurp against the entrance of your pussy.

“tastes good, baby.” he hums, seas of deep blue staring up at you. it makes you hiss and jolt, eyebrows furrowing and face contorting.

“satoru- please—“

“hmmm? what is it, princess?”

you can barely afford to mince a sentence together. the way he’s crouched underneath you and feasting on your pussy like it’s the last supper he’ll have leaves you breathless and dizzy.

“your dick-“

“mine? what about it?”

you groan out a fit of frustration, knuckles turn white in his hair. there’s a pout that adorns him as he flinches.

“i want it, you fucking idiot”

“oh? you want my dick? that’s cute, babe. you should’ve just asked.”

“i can’t say no to my little angel.” he gives your pussy one last kiss before straightening himself, clicking the tension out of his neck.

“now then…”

he motions his index in a slight flick, other hand working to unzip himself.

“leg up.”

you reach out behind you, laying your palm flat against the train door to catch your balance. you shakily lift your leg up, allowing gojo to press his hand and hold you by the back of your knee. he groans when his veiny dick springs from its confines, curved shaft slicking against his jacket. the fabric makes him cringe a little, but he doesn’t waste time in aligning himself with your creamy cunt.

gojo guides his throbbing pink tip in, glancing down to watch how your pussy wraps and folds around his cock. it’s always been one of his favourite sights.

your head tilts and jaw falls slack at the initial push of his head. your thighs tremble and chest heaves as his dick fills you up and snaps into place like a jigsaw piece. there’s that vein on the underside of his shaft that always drives you crazy.

“so tight. you’re so wet for me. fuck.”

“you little shit, you’re totally into this as much as i am, aren’t you?” gojo grabs ahold of your chin, tilting your face to look at him. his lips briefly clash with yours. he pulls you in, tugging at your bottom lip and circling his tongue against the tip of yours. there’s a thin line of saliva that separates your mouth from his. he tastes faintly bitter yet sweet. it takes a couple of moments for it to click that it’s the taste of your own cunt.

“i know it feels good, but, try not to scream?”

“yeah ri- aah!-ght-“ you squeak, body jolting when gojo pulls himself out before slamming himself right into your g-spot. there’s the loud slap of his balls hitting against your skin, and it’s only a taste of what’s to come.

“you say somethin’?”

“n-no-“

“really? i thought i heard you talk. you tryna say that i’m wrong, then?”

“n-no-“

you’re not sure how he can keep up with the conversation. all you can hear is the garbled static in your mind, the froth that wants to seep out of the corners of your lips. you babble and whine incessantly. every rough slam of his hips sends you even more over the edge, ecstasy and harsh tingles crashing against your body as gojo rearranges your guts. you’ve lost all feeling in the leg that he’s holding up. just watching him fuck you like this is almost enough to make you cum.

you eye the deep blue veins that ride against his pale skin. his long and slender fingertips reach out as he curls one hand around your neck, thumb brushing affectionately underneath your chin. it’s nothing but a warning sign.

“listen to me when i’m talking to you.”

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 17 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 17

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (spanking, cunnilingus, handcuffs, restraints, blindfolding, P in V, creampie, unprotected sex *wrap it up kids* )

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 17

“Are there any clothes of yours that you would like me to wash?”

You were on your knees by the dirty pile of clothes next to your suitcases.  It had been slowly growing as the days went by and you needed to get them clean.  The shirt and jeans you wore were the only decent clothes you had, and even that was suspect seeing as they smelled of cigar smoke and various other odors from the factory.

“You do know that there is a laundry machine, right?  You don’t actually have to wash them by hand…” Heisenberg remarked, taking steps towards you on the floor, a cup of coffee in hand.  He felt tired after only a small amount of sleep the night before.  But it was nobody’s fault but his own.  The constant fucking and his inability to keep his hands off you were hindering his sleep schedule.

“Really?” you said, looking up at him, “oh wow, I just assumed…”

“...being a Lord in a small village has its perks,” Heisenberg quipped, “...it’s an older model, but it still does the trick.”

“Well, what I said still holds.  I can wash your clothes along with mine,” you offered.

He smiled at you. “I don’t expect you to do anything for me, dollface.  We can wash our respective clothes together.”

You shrugged your shoulders in agreement and gathered the dirty clothes in your arms, standing to your feet.  “Okay, let’s go!”

Heisenberg finished his coffee and set the mug down on the table, removing his sunglasses.  You could barely see his eyes under his wide brimmed hat, but what you could see of them gleamed in mischief.  Oh, shit, what did he have planned now?

“We can do that later,” Heisenberg murmured, taking a step closer to you, “but now...I’m calling in my favor…”

“What favor?” you asked suspiciously.

“Oh come on,” Heisenberg scoffed, “don’t tell me you forgot.  A few days ago when I took you to see Moreau...you said if I accompanied you, that you would make it up to me…”

Your throat went dry.  Your fingers dug into the clothes piled up in your arms.  Realization, a bit of dread, and a twinge of excitement started in your body.  You did say that you would do anything to make up for it.  But with Heisenberg and that mischievous smirk on his lips, that could mean anything.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked hesitantly.

“Oh, pussycat...you have no idea.  Put those clothes back on the floor…”

You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, turned, and let the pile fall to the floor next to your things.  Turning back to Heisenberg, you watched him remove his hat and put it on the table.  His trenchcoat was next.  He tossed it across one of the chairs.  

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered as he unbuttoned his shirt.  You stood there dumbfounded for a second as you watched him untuck his shirts, letting the buttoned-up one slide down his arms.  He reached for his undershirt, pulling it off overhead.  The objects around his neck clattered noisily as he set them on the table.

“I said, take off your clothes…” he repeated, his voice low and menacing.

You quickly jerked out of your stunned ogling and began to unzip your pants, not wanting to try his patience..  Heisenberg grinned as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops of his pants.  He folded the belt and grabbed each end in his hands, making it snap noisily.  You jumped at the loud noise and he laughed.

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you…” he promised.  Your heart raced in your chest.  You felt equal parts apprehension and excitement.  He was intelligent and creative...the possibilities that this favor held were endless…

He watched as you finished removing your clothes and you stood before him naked.  His tongue slid along his lips as he stepped towards you.  You looked up into his eyes as he slowly moved to your left, circling your body.  He looked you up and down, admiring every inch of you.  His belt touched your skin and you yelped.  Heisenberg chuckled.

“Bend over the bed, your hands pressed to the sheets,” he commanded, sliding his belt up your spine.  An exhilarated thrill surged through you and you turned to the bed, bending forward from your hips.  Heisenberg took the belt and let it roam along your ass.  You bit your bottom lip, wondering what he had in store for you.

You didn’t have long to wait as his belt came down across your ass, giving you a swift spank. A shriek escaped your mouth and Heisenberg laughed.  “Did that scare you, pussycat?” he asked playfully.  You exhaled and turned your face to look at him.  He stood there with his folded belt in his hands, an amused smile on his face.  His shirtless torso showed off his toned chest and stomach, making him look every bit the dangerous dominant man he was.

“Karl...please, do it again,” you murmured.  With a low growl, he brought the belt down again.  The spanks stung as they connected to your ass, him waiting momentarily in between.  The pain was brief before giving way to pleasure.  You felt his hand caress your cheeks, squeezing each in his grasp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” Heisenberg marveled, placing one hand on the small of your back as he spanked you.  You moaned loudly, lifting your gaze upwards.  After every couple of hits, he would rub and massage your ass, making sure you were okay.  Your skin reddened and was hot to the touch.  His gaze looked over your body, watching as you shivered at the blows of the belt.  Your moans and whimpers were like music to his ears.  And he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Lie on your back on the bed, your head on the pillow,” he ordered.

You followed his command, unable to hide the excitement on your face.  Heisenberg noticed and laughed.  “Oh, you are enjoying this, aren’t you, pussycat?” he marveled.  He walked to the head of the bed and bent down.  The familiar jangling of chains made your eyes go wide.

Heisenberg stood up with the makeshift handcuffs in his grasp.  You looked up at him, his eyes boring holes into yours.  Without a word, he took the cuffs and wrapped the headboard railing with the chains, looping them around and around until they were tight.

“Give me your hands,” he ordered.  One by one, you lifted your wrists and let him restrain you with the cuffs.  Your heart pounded and your mouth was dry.  There had been several nights in the past that you had entertained the fantasy of a man handcuffing you to a bed and raining down torturous pleasure so intense that it made you go insane...you couldn’t think of any other man that you wanted to submit to like this but Karl Heisenberg.

“Oh, fuck…” you moaned as Heisenberg’s fingers slid down your forearm and tricep.  He trailed his fingers down your body to your feet, slowly walking along the bed.  Your skin shivered and peppered with goosebumps.  This man knew just how to touch you.  In the short time you two had been fucking, he memorized every spot that made you whimper and every move that had you crying out in ecstasy.

He pulled his hand away and went to your suitcase, rifling through your things.

“What are you doing?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Looking for this,” he replied, standing straight, a scarf in his hand.  You released a breath as he sat on the edge of the bed next to you.  Leaning forward, he took the scarf and covered your eyes, tying it behind your head.

“Karl…” you whispered, gripping the chains of the handcuffs.  He adjusted the scarf over your face so that you couldn’t see anything.  You were bound and blindfolded, completely at his mercy.  The arousal that swirled in your belly was astronomical.

“Let me know at any time if you want me to stop,” Heisenberg said, “if it gets to be too much, tell me.  I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with…”

“For fuck’s sake, Karl, please don’t stop!” you whined, pushing your hips upwards, “this is so fucking hot…”

Heisenberg laughed and stood to his feet.  You heard the zipper of his pants and the sound of him kicking off his boots.  The shuffling of fabric followed by the drop of the remainder of his clothing met your ears.  How desperate you were to look at him standing naked before you.  You wanted to see his muscles flex, you wanted to feel his body under your hands, and you wanted to watch his face contort as he fucked you.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he spread your legs.  He lifted your right leg, his hand circling your ankle.  You sucked in a breath and released an anguished moan at the feel of his lips kissing down your calf.  Wetness slipped from your pussy and dripped onto the sheets.  The man’s soft lips coupled with the roughness of his beard made your senses go into overdrive.

His lips kissed to the back of your knee and his tongue licked lazily along the skin.  You arched your back and groaned.  The area was sensitive and erogenous.  You didn’t know that it was a place on your body that could elicit such pleasure.

“Karl...please…” you mewled.  Your body writhed in waves as he kissed down your inner thigh.

“I meant it when I said I wanted to kiss and lick every inch of your skin, Y/N…” Heisenberg said, “...I could devour your flesh, suck the sweat off and drink it…”

You felt like you were on the verge of insanity by the time he kissed down between your legs.  His hand gripped the outer thigh of your leg, spreading it wide as he kissed along your pussy lips.

“God dammit, Karl, please...I need it...I can’t take anymore…” you pleaded, bucking your hips upwards impatiently.  Heisenberg simply chuckled as he took his other hand and placed the lightest of touches on the tip of your clit.  

You let out an anguished squeal, grinding your head back into the pillow.  His kisses and touches were surprising and unexpected.  You took advantage of your sense of sight before, always being able to know when and where he would touch you...but in that moment everything was unknown, surprising, and agonizing.

“This pretty clit…” Heisenberg said teasingly, looking up your body as he continued to lightly graze it with the pad of his finger, “...how desperate are you for me to touch it...to kiss it...to wrap my lips around it and suck?”

The scarf soaked up your frustrated tears.  The chains clattered noisily against the headboard as you bucked and writhed on the bed.  “Please, Karl...I’m begging you...please…”

“Mmmmm pussycat...I love it when you beg…”

His tongue snaked out and circled your clit.  He lifted your thighs over his shoulders, holding your hips down with both hands.  Your hips trembled and shook, desperate to ride his face.  His grip of your hips was firm, keeping you pressed to the bed, unable to move for any kind of friction.  You were completely at his mercy.

“Oh god Karl...oh fuck...yes...yes...keep licking my cunt…” you pleaded.  He chuckled as his tongue flicked slowly at your clit, looking up at you twisting and struggling for relief from his torture.  His cock was rock hard and desperate to fuck you.  Fantasies of you being cuffed to his bed while he fucked you had been flowing through his mind since he first restrained you.  At that time, it was to ensure you wouldn’t run away, but this...this is what he wanted from the moment he laid eyes on you.  You, submissive, desperate, and begging for him…

He finally gave you what you wanted and started sucking hard on your clit.

“KARL!!!!” you screamed, your legs quaking on either side of his head.  Your thighs squeezed his face and he became feral, licking and devouring the most sensitive part of you.  

The echoes of your pleasure reverberated in his room.  He growled deeply, continuing his assault on your pussy.  

“Karl...oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum...I’m gonna fucking cum...please, Karl...please…”  

He held you to the bed and continued sucking...more...more...more...until you felt the world stop.  Your mouth flew open and you screamed as you came ferociously and intensely.  Heisenberg’s mouth left your clit as he laughed triumphantly, prolonging your orgasm with his fingers, applying pressure and rubbing.  Your eyes rolled into the back of your head under the scarf, aftershocks shaking your body in waves.

“Good girl...good fucking girl…” Heisenberg marveled.  Your arms hung limp from the handcuffs, sweat forming at your brow.  He kissed up your quivering stomach to your breasts, cupping both in his hands.  He kissed your soft skin, moving to your nipple.  Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue traced the hardened peak, flicking and sucking.

“Karl…” you moaned, your hips arching to his body.  Your orgasm was intense and incredible and already you wanted another one.  You wanted him inside of you, to grip his cock and pulse around him.  He had given you insurmountable pleasure and you desperately wanted to return the favor.

“Fuck me, Karl…” you begged, grinding your hips upwards, “...please...I want to make you cum...let me make you cum…”

“Oh, Y/N...I love it when you talk dirty…”  

He continued kissing your breast, palming and squeezing, as his other hand went to his cock, teasing along your wet pussy.  You cursed loudly and wriggled your hips, which made him laugh harder.  “You are quite greedy, dollface…” he marveled, “...yes...so greedy...bound and writhing on my bed...I ought to keep you like this forever…”

You bit your lip and whimpered as he sucked on your nipple, sinking his teeth into your flesh.  You were going to go insane if he didn’t fuck you soon.

Heisenberg sat up and inched closer between your legs.  Sitting back on his heels, he pushed the tip of his cock into your wet cunt.

“Karl!!” you shouted, feeling equal parts relief and dread...relief that he was inside of you and dread that there would be too much time between then and your next orgasm.

Heisenberg gripped your hips and pulled you forward to meet his thrusts.  He pumped deeper into you, his hands holding you flush against him.  Your breasts bounced with the force of his movement.  You clenched around his cock, going tight and pulsing rhythmically, which seemed to please him as evidence from the throaty growls coming from him.

“Fuck...fuck...oh god dammit, Y/N...take my cock…” he moaned.  He took in the sight of you:  your fingers wrapped around the chains, your tits heaving, your thighs quivering around his body, and those sweet, cock hardening moans that flew from your mouth.  You were a vision...a fucking goddess.

“Karl...don’t stop...I want you...I want to make you cum...oh fuck, please…”

His right hand slid up your stomach to your breast, squeezing and slapping it.  You shrieked at the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain.  “That’s it, baby...let me hear you...you filthy fucking little girl…”

You were close.  Heisenberg’s hands all over your body turned you on more than anything you had experienced before.  His lips and talented tongue could make you sell your soul for one last orgasm.  All you wanted was him and he was all you would ever want for the rest of your life.

“I’m gonna cum, Karl...please cum with me...cum inside of me…”

Heisenberg leaned over you and swiftly pulled the scarf from your head.  It took a second for you to adjust to the light before your gaze settled on him.  His body pressed to yours, his hips hammering down on top of you.  His arms pushed under your shoulders and his hands went to the back of your head, making you focus on him.

“Look at me, Y/N...look at me when you cum…” he commanded.  Your clit was trapped against his skin, providing perfect friction along with his cock rocking back and forth inside of you.  It felt overpowering, devastating, and unbearable.  This orgasm was going to destroy the both of you.

“Karl...I’m...I’m...gonna…” you screamed, your eyes wide, never leaving his gaze.

“Tell me...tell me you’re gonna cum...cum for me, Y/N...cum hard…” he yelled, his lips hovering over yours.  You wanted to toss your head back, but his hands on the back of your head kept you still; you had no choice but to stare into the eyes of your executioner.

“I’m cumming...Karl...KARL, OH FUCK, I’M CUMMING!!”

Your body flailed under him, your orgasm so violent that you bucked his body on top of yours.  Heisenberg shot his hot cum deep inside of you as you came around his prick.  Both of you moaned and yelled loudly, so loudly that you felt as if the whole village could hear you.  His hips continued to fuck you into the bed, eager to prolong your orgasm.  His lips clamped over yours, kissing you deeply.  You returned the kiss, your tongue voracious in his mouth.

His hips slowed their movements as he lowered his face between your breasts, kissing as much of your skin as he could.  “You’re gonna be the death of me, pussycat…” he marveled.  You laughed breathlessly, lifting your arms in the chains.  You winced feeling how tender your wrists were, not realizing how hard you were tugging on them.

“Karl...my wrists…” you whispered.  He lifted his head and inspected the handcuffs, seeing the beginnings of red marks on your wrists.  He unlocked the cuffs and wrapped his arms around you, rolling onto his back, pulling you with him.

Your head fell to his chest, too weak to do anything.  Both of your arms hung on either side of his body.  His hands caressed your hair, moving down the nape of your neck and up and down your back.  You smiled and melted into him.

“My sweet dollface,” Heisenberg praised, “...mine...all mine…”

[youryanderedaddy]

Imagine a yandere ghost who is cursed is trapped in the doll, so one day a family came to live in his house, but what the ghost did not expect is to fall in love with the couple's eldest daughter. Maybe this yandere ghost (doll) use the younger brother to get closer to his beloved...

I didn't really include the doll, but the overall idea is here ;)

Tw: nsfw, non - con, underage sex? (The reader is meant to be around 18, her brother is 16 - 17, but the ghost is 100+ so idk), (technically) incest, ghosts, possession, possessive/obsessive behavior, slight parental neglect ig

You knew it was a mistake moving into the old house up the hill. You tried arguing with your parents so many times about the mansion being hidden in the woods, so far away from any civilization, bringing up the fact it hadn't been bought for the last 8 years despite the insanely low price or the news about the previous owners dying in their sleep just like that, from "natural causes" even though they were an young energetic couple. But of course your worries had been discarded so easily since your younger siblings were ecstatic, constantly talking about finally living in a castle, which was obviously pushing it too far, but kids will be kids.

Your family was big, consisting of your mother, father, two younger sisters and a brother currently in his late teens. Your siblings managed to take all the nice bright rooms on the second floor so you were forced to sleep in the attic. At first it didn't seem so bad, yes, the place was dark and dusty, the space was limited, but it was a quiet spot and there were many interesting things left there to explore and discover.

The first week you discovered a huge box full of old books, medals, notebooks and different souvenirs from all over the world. The second week you found a few paintings covered by a thin disheveled cloak, most of them depicting a pretty young boy with golden locks and sad green eyes, dresses in an expensive silky clothing resembling what was nowadays considered an elegant suit. You didn't pay it much mind yet the miserable longing gaze of the kid haunted your dreams in the following days.

During the third week you noticed that things were going missing one by one. First it was your favorite lipstick, then your new dress, and suddenly your favorite items were gone just like that. On top of all, almost as if fate was tickling your paranoia, you could hear certain sounds at night that were too distorted be natural and too human to belong to an animal. There were sobs, loud and tormented, sometimes you could make up a few words in a language no one spoke anymore. You slept less and less each night, you could swear you felt someone's lingering touch on your shoulders, them gently stroking your hair and even pressing their cold unmoving lips on yours. This was usually the point when you opened your eyes and screamed in fear only to realize you were alone in the room. There was nobody there.

Still you decided to speak with your parents about the creepy events taking place in the attic. Much to your dismay they brushed your concerns off once again, laughing softly and calling you a scaredy - cat, going as far as to joke around about your "oh so creative" imagination getting the best of you just like it did in your childhood. But this time you insisted on holding your ground, almost begging them to take action and help you. At the end your mother decided to let you sleep in your brother's room for a while until you calm down, and as embarrassing it was to share a room with a hormonal teen, it was better than constantly being on the edge and losing sleep. Or so you thought.

The first night you slept in Steve's room nothing out of the ordinary happened and for the first time in weeks you actually managed to rest. The second night was blissfully peaceful as well and you quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The third night started well, just like the previous two. Your brother was tired from studying all day and went to bed early, giving you the freedom to relax a little bit before following his example. You could read a book or try to revise for your exam tomorrow, maybe even call your bestfriend and finally let her know all about your new classmates and just how boring life in the village was. But in that moment all these suggestion sounded annoying, nothing was interesting enough to hold your interest for more than a minute. Thinking about what to do next, you suddenly became aware that your body was tense and tired, but your mind was restless. After all you hadn't had time for self - care between the paranoia episodes and the fear, maybe it was finally time to do something nice and therapeutic for yourself.

You snatched a quick look at Steve and he was sleeping soundly, snoring from time to time, his usually angry face now calm and childlike. Making sure there was no one in the room awake, you finally slipped a hand down your pajama bottom until you felt the soft fabric of your panties. You closed your eyes and run a finger up and down your clothed sex, following the line of your slit. Your pussy throbbed at the sudden contact, the lack of pleasure in the last few weeks making it sensitive to the touch. You pushed your underwear lower so it hanged around your legs, and shoved one finger into your warm hole, enjoy the way your walls clenched around the digit. You flicked your clit gently, feeling it swell from the arousal, rubbing slow circles and pressing on your sweet spot every once in a while.

Your free hand went to your breasts, bare under the comfy oversized shirt, and awoke the cherry nipples with subtle pinches causing them to harden. You couldn't help but moan quietly as you decreased the pace of which you teased your hole and added a second finger in your pussy, fucking yourself on it. You were so focused on chasing your pleasure you didn't even notice the hand on your thigh pulling your own away from your excited throbbing core and replacing it with a big hard cock. Only once its head reached your tight entrance and pressed on it did your mind register the atrocious size difference. Your words stilled in your throat, the sudden panic rising in your chest, making your vision blurry and your cheeks rosy pink. You finally opened your eyes, your heart racing at the image of your younger brother towering above you with his member so close to entering your heat.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You whispered as you tried to squirm away from the boy, but he was quicker in pinning your wrists above your head in a deadlock. When did the male become so strong? Just yesterday he would ask you to open up his water bottle and help him with his math homework and now he was doing this...

"My name is Henry, my love." The voice was different from your brother's, lower and huskier, gentler in a way. You narrowed your eyes and observed the teenager's face, gasping as you noticed that his eyes had changed from black to green, yet all his other features had stayed stayed the same. You wanted to ask so many questions - who is Henry, why were your sibling's eyes and voice different from before - but you were quickly shut by one stern gaze. "I used to live here 80 years ago." The stranger started off with an unexpectedly soft tone as his grip on your wrists loosened. "I'm a ghost. I possessed your brother." He confessed calmly while you watched his pink lips part slightly with each breath as if you were in a trance before you found the strength to break your silence.

"Why are doing this to me? Why did you take my brother's body?" You questioned him manically, feeling like a confused little lamb sent to the slaughter, trembling and stuttering in front of a knife. Henry simply chuckled at your adorable dumbfounded expression and lowered his torso until his face was mere inches away from yours and you could feel his ice - cold breath on your warm red cheek. "Because I love you, darling." The ghost replied with a confident smirk that looked so weird and unnatural on the younger boy's face you almost gagged. Before you had the chance to say anything, he continued. "I've been wanting you for a while now, little girl. And with this body I can finally have you all to myself." You opened your mouth in a protest but your screams were easily muffled by a harsh kiss and a wet tongue down your throat. Next thing you knew the man had pushed your brother's manhood into your wet sloppy cunt in one sharp thurst and in your despair you had yelled for help once again, the ghost taking your whimpers greedily and shushing them away. Struggling was pointless.

In the next hour you were reduced to a sweaty whimpering mess of pain and arousal, fear and pleasure. The ghost was fucking you in a fast brutal pace while his free hand was playing with your clit, bringing you so damn close but never enough to send you over the edge. You were crying and your whole body was aching, your tits red from the rough manhandlind, your lips bruised and swollen from the rough kisses and bites. There were purple hickeys adorning your neck, belly and thighs and you went quiet in embarrassment every time you wondered how you would be able to hide them the next day.

"Please, whoever you are, let me come, I'm begging you." You pleaded desperately as you arched your back to meet the next couple of deep thrusts. Your cheeks were wet with tears and you could even taste the bitter salty flavor in your mouth mixed with your own drool and saliva. Upon hearing your meek pleas the man mercifully started hitting your cervix with each shove until his moves became sharp and quick, targeting your g-spot. You were so close you could feel your abdomen clench and tighten from the tingling sensitations. "Please..." You uttered weakly again, making doe eyes at your brother.

"Say you love me. Tie your soul to mine forever and I'll give you exactly what you want, beloved." Henry basically growled in your ear as he groped your breasts, squizing lightly the soft flesh. Your mind was so hazy and clouded you weren't sure how to respond so you just repeated the words easiest to grasp. "Love... you... forever, ngggh..." You muttered under your breath before moaning wantonly when the forceful thrusts finally sent you over the edge and your pussy clamped down in a big, satisfying orgasm. Your bliss was short - lived because soon the ghost was pounding into you again and again, keeping you too tired to move, struggle or even speak properly besides whimpering every once in a while. The rest of the night was a blur but eventually you fell asleep from the exhausting and the pleasure.

You woke up sore, your eyes red and puffy, your muscles tense and unnatentive. You rushed to look at your brother, but the teenager was sleeping just as peacefully as he did eight hours ago. One side of you was more than glad to know everything that had happened was simply a bad, terrible dream, while the other one still felt extremely uncomfortable and uneasy. You couldn't bear staying in the room any longer so you got dressed and went into the hall. Everyone else was still asleep and you felt as restless as if you hadn't caught a blink at all. You finally gave in to your paranoia and climbed the stars leading to the third floor.

You knelt on the ground where you had found the beautiful paintings. Those green eyes from your dream seemed way too familiar for it to be a coincidence. When you finally got a hold of your favorite piece, the one with the sad young boy, you had to cover your mouth to suppress the shock. There wasn't an aristocrat with golden locks on the picture anymore.

Now the one trapped in the painting was none other than you own brother, Steve. Instead of misery and pain in mysterious blue eyes, there was only terror in his tormented black ones. You screamed for the last time before you dropped the picture on the ground and ran away from the attic, the tears streaming down your face, but unfortunately, there was no escape from the restless dead souls.

[janethesiren]

morphine | seo changbin

─── summary: the only thing that can soothe your overworked body and mind is your boyfriend's body and touches.

─── pairing: idol!changbin x femreader!choreographer

─── genre: smut, angst, fluff i guess

─── warnings: mild cursing, fingering, a little bit of size kink. it's just overall really sweet excuse my softness.

─── word count: +2,6k

another sad/angsty fic i wrote a month and a half ago while my life was in crumbles lmao. it's longer than what i intended it to be because i needed to write this. this is precious to me not only because it's the first time i write smut (and i have a hard time doing that), so please tell me what you think about it. love y'all <3

by now you don't even know how much time you've been practicing the same portion of the choreo over and over again since the only reminder of the passing of time is the deep pain you are starting to feel down your legs, your knees making a stretchy sound and your feet starting to stumble into each other.

but you don't really have the guts to stop now.

it has become a matter of pride to win the battle between you and that choreography that you've prepared for the boys, even when it looks like you're the one who is gonna lose terribly against it. "it's only a couple fucking stupid beats and a turn!" you say to yourself mumbling under your breath. you felt like you hit your second timestamp the moment you feel the sweat beads run not only in the back of your neck and into your shirt but also down your legs, in between your tight jeans as if there wasn't any cloth covering it at all.

you glance at the clock a couple of times repeatedly since you couldn't look at the time properly the first times. 3:17 am. "just a couple of rehearsals and I'll be done" your hands reach for the corners of your shirt to peel it of your body and squeeze it into a ball with almost no strength to do so, your fingers feeling swollen making the joints pop lightly as you rub the piece of cloth upon your skin.

you did a couple of rehearsals and dropped it as you promised to yourself. but by the time you finish the thing you're dropping is your whole weight into the ground almost wanting that it absorbed you and held your limbs together. your breathing is hectic, your chest moving up and down with no control, feeling as if pin needles are constantly pinching in between your ribs and your shaky hands keep scratching the reddened skin of your face as it felt like exploding of heat. you really, really want to cry but again you don't have the guts to. crying over a work that you chose, that you do love and that has brought you so many privileges along the way feels childish. being at 3 am in the studio fighting for your dear life through your work, holding desperately onto your profession to keep your mind off the stupid deep hole that swells into your chest doesn't feel as childish, but it sure is at the end of the day. grasping the surface of whatever that holds you back from drifting away into god knows what. the unknown is fucking scary. in the distance it seems like thick waters that swallow anything that comes in contact to it and never returns it back.

you don't really want to know what happens after giving up. you've never known or plan to visit that place.

your palms search for the wooden flooring to lift you off the ground but your triceps aren't responding to you anymore, and your bra is pinching your skin in that exact infuriating way on your back making you huff out of frustration, even when you don't move or try to. your feet burn inside the sneakers and you wonder what time it is by now, since you can't bring yourself to ponder on how much time you've been laying down. it's been so many hours since you started training.

the door creeks open slowly as if the person from the other side is trying not to interrupt what's happening inside, and your mouth hangs barely open and your lips feel a little chapped but you don't push yourself to lick them as they burn. you must look like a dead puppy right now. the head of the person hangs carefully at the door, and you can see that it's holding some type of toned-down horror, just so you don't feel embarrassed or confronted by your own state just yet. his brows arch a little and he sighs to his insides, biting the inside of his left cheek.

changbin doesn't say a word, neither do you as you observe him from the ground without moving an inch. the silence feels thick. he closes the door behind him and makes his way to your figure, lowering himself to his knees and scoots over to your limp body carefully and slow. you can feel a droplet of sweat falling into the hollow of your bellybutton, his chill and dry palm coming in contact with the skin in your tummy to hold your hip bone, as his thumb graces upon the skin near to it trying to comfort you. you sigh as if his touch was morphine to your pain and the tears collect at the brim of your eyes, your diaphragm constricting and relaxing on a constant rhythm of hiccups making him keep caressing your laying body, looking down at you. for the first time you brought your tongue out of your mouth to lick your lips and swallow loudly. changbin tilts his head barely to the side and looks at you in the eye with fondness, feeling a broken wave of pain wash over him. still on his knees and with his hand on your hip, he slips his free forearm under your body and lifts you carefully with his hand holding your head, as if he was taking a baby close to his chest —and in some way, you felt like that— he rests your head on his shoulder as he brushes your hair out of your face really slow, and without saying a word he tilts his head in that way that he does when he's trying to comfort you: lowering his head and curling his body around yours as if you were a baby, caressing your forehead with the tip of his nose and breathing in your scent, even when you've been sweating for hours. he doesn't even care. you can sense his fingers getting closer to the nape of your neck and it gives you goosebumps in anticipation.

"you know i can't stand watching you like this, right?" he whispers with his voice tired and raspy against the shell of your ear, still moulding his body around yours. you simply nod.

"you're doing really well, love" his voice sounds like purrs and it makes you shrink in his arms. it always feels like this, as if you were tensing your shoulders like when someone is trying to tickle you. his fingers trace lines in between your shoulder blades and they linger a little longer at the rim of your bra.

"you're hurting, aren't you?" his nose nuzzles a little into your hair, with his lips brushing against your forehead. "do you want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?" your rub your tears out of the corner of your eyes smudgy as you nod, making changbin snap your bra open and peel it out of you with slow movements, trying not to disturb you by caressing the reddened skin, outlining the marks your bra left on your tender flesh. his other hand opens the buttons of your jeans and gets them off with a little help of yours, rewarding you by massaging your sore thighs as you turn back to his lap like a minute ago. for some minutes he just holds your overheated naked body close to his while brushing his lips over your face, leaving soft kisses here and there without a worry of time, without thinking about anything else besides keeping your body there, present. only thinking about how much he wants to make you feel good thanks to him. your nipples grace upon his shirt a couple of times making you sigh into the crook of his neck while your breath regulates, guided by the scent of his perfume, helped by the way his thick arms are wrapped around your broken body.

always since the beginning of your relationship a couple years ago, changbin has felt like a shield around you. he just cares without having to think about it since he's a deep-loving person naturally, and nothing bad or concerning has to happen for him to take care and be... domestic. acting as if he has known your routines and behaviour for forever, memorizing them out of daily observation. in the first month, it felt like you've been together since the beginning of times. he just guesses naturally what you need, and he always gets it correct, as if your souls knew each other before your bodies connected ever before. in return, you take care of him from the inside of the shield: you teach him stuff, you help him talk his concerns when he buries them deep inside out of habit, you show him that it's okay to fail, to not meet the expectations people have of him, that not being 'the well-behaved kid' in him is more of a sign of character rather than an uneducated trait.

his fingers trail their way down your tummy and caress your clothed core, rubbing circled motions without too much pressure and you're already squirming in your place. changbin quickly brings his fingers to his lips to lick them right before pulling your panties to the side, drawing thick stripes up and down of your core to spread his saliva as he coos at you in your ear, trying to hush down your whimpers and sobs and enjoying those sounds shamelessly at the same time.

"i'm gonna make you feel good baby. i promise you. just relax and listen to my voice, is that okay?" changbin shushes you as he returns the circular motions with a little more pressure, while his forearms flex a little around your body. your hips start to barely rock back and forth on an instinct of earning more friction, which earns a soft giggle from your boyfriend. "hmm, this precious body right here has helped you go through a lot, right? let it rest and drift away my love, i'll take care of it for you." he says leaving open mouthed kisses in the crook of your neck and shoulders, taking in your heat and tasting the salt of your skin. his fingers press and move with more velocity while you sigh constantly onto his chest, leaving a thread of his name before your lips. being masturbated by your partner at work in a practice room at such unholy hours should feel filthy and morbid, but somehow you can't even bring yourself to feel that way even when you try with all your strength. it feels therapeutic, and the whole room has shrunken to the size of you both so no one can break the love you're pouring into one another in that exact moment.

your hands grasp onto his sweatpants right above his thighs and you can feel some tension under it. you didn't come in contact with his hard-on, but moving the cloth around made enough friction to make changbin's breath hitch and sigh just right after. "can you feel that, baby? you make me fucking insane. your sweet skin, the way you're moving for me right now even when you're tired" he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. "your precious body and face, your pretty mouth saying my name. can you say it for me another time, sweetheart?" he says a little whiny, closing his eyes. changbin wasn't planning on getting overexcited right now as he was focused on meeting your needs right now, but he couldn't really help it when your exhausted body was draped on top of his, your pussy throbbing at his praises and all the love that poured out of him without trying.

of course, you happily oblige.

"b-binnie" you sigh as he lets a single finger into you, immediately curling up as his thumb brushes your clit without slowing down, the motions making your hips buck up slow and deep. his pace is profound and steady and soon enough you start to moan against his ear, his breathing getting worked up just by hearing you. "another one babe... please, pretty please..." you whimper.

"you work so hard, my love. everything you do is meticulously made and takes so much effort. every word that leaves your mouth sounds like music to my ears and your body moves with so much ease. you know i'm really proud of being your boyfriend, i wouldn't trade that for anything." the contrast between his words, how he held you between his arms and how his second finger was making you jump on your seat was driving you insane. the duality this man could hold within one single body.

"i love to have my fingers inside of you. you take so good everything i give you that i would rather die with me inside of you." he groans a little, hearing the squelchy and wet sounds of your body, making him feel filthy and extremely lucky at the same time, and oh how much did your raged moans increased that feeling. his boner is painfully hard and wet pressing against your thigh on his lap, making him hiss from time to time when your leg shakes and grazes upon it. by now he can feel your core clench and pulsate against his fingers, making him frown and close his eyes on an attempt to hold himself together, but his hips betrayed him as he was slowly grinding against your leg and his arm tightened around your body, holding you flush against his chest. "would you cum for me, baby? just one last effort today, hm?"

you don't have to try too much to get even close to your release. the incoherent blabbering of his name is a big signal to say "yes, i would fucking love to". his tongue runs a long and slow stripe on your neck and up to the back of your ear, pressing your body closer to his as changbin snaps his fingers quicker and his palm slaps your clit without mercy, making you moan brokenly. this was the last drop his glass needed to make him lose his mind over you.

"fuck- i love you, i love you so fucking much, hmm-ah" his raspy voice resonates into your ears, throwing a shiver up your spine by the way you can hear the tiniest whimpers that leaves his mouth, close enough to feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear. not being able to hold back anymore, you cum on his fingers as he helps you ride out your high. "there you go my baby girl, well done, well done..." he whispers spreading the milky fluid up and down your slit, making you sob a little in his embrace. it feels eternal. it's been a minute and he keeps caressing your wet pussy driving you insane after the overstimulation but somehow, you want his warm hand in your panties for forever. "it's alright, it's alright... i'm not leaving anywhere y/n." he says repeatedly kissing your agape mouth at your tiny sobs, slowly kissing your bottom lip and drawing the humidity of both your mouths around on the most fucking sensual manner ever, holding you onto his lap as your body trembles and relaxes onto him.

"i... i love you so much, baby." he then pauses briefly, watching your fucked out expression, and you can't even lie, he was being enough vulnerable with you to show how fucked up he looked too without shame, with his cheeks and lips flushed red and his eyes a little hooded, being completely neglected but so happy to comply all your needs. "i don't want you to ever get to that point of exhaustion again. whenever you train at these hours, you text me. i don't care if i'm in the studio. i will come and help you out. maybe in some more decent way, hopefully" changbin then rambles with his hands all over your body, kissing every patch that he finds free and cools it down as he giggles softly, and you feel as if the pain was slowly drifting off your body somewhere else. into the depth of that void you were scared to fall in.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

~

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself. 

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings. 

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair. 

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table. 

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

[ask-agent-rapzutin-vodello]

An Emotional Bach Day Episode

This fic is a combination of three promts, from which I took something out of each one. Triple threat, baby!

Question. If you were an Intern at the Psychonauts' Motherlobe, have been studying for a few weeks and suddenly it was a very hot, very sunny day, no cloud in the sky? If the answer is, ditch studying for the day to enjoy a day on the beach, you would be correct. And that was exactly what they did.

Raz, Lili, the other Interns and Millie - Lizzie's girlfriend – packed up their swimming gear and in the early morning, before the sun had even completely risen, drove with Adam's van to the beach, to enjoy a free day of sun, sand and fun. Of course, they had asked permission first and Adam and Norma were in charge of cellphones with all the emergency numbers and numbers of Milla, Sasha and Hollis. Sun cream had been stocked in abundance, a cooler with water and sandwiches had been provided and Lizzie had already promised Millie to bury her in the sand.

They had started out with picking out the best spot and soon had all parted ways to enjoy something in their own pace. Raz had gone swimming for a while. He emerged from the salty water, combing his wet hair backwards. He pulled his goggles down. Good thing they didn't only help with Psychic Over-stimulation, but they were pretty great swimming goggles as well. He looked around for his friends when he noticed Lili sunbathing. But she wasn't alone. A boy, of Raz and Lili's age, and his friends were gathered around Lili.

Something in the way this kid behavior towards Lili didn't sit right with Raz. His whole body language was too much like Nils from camp, when he was acting all 'Ladies Man'. He reached out with his mind.

'Hi Lili.'

'“What's up, Raz? Done swimming?'

'Yeah. ...who are you talking too?'

'Just some kid and his friends. They're friendly.'

'Just 'friendly'?

What's with that tone?'

'Nothing. What tone?'

A pause. He suddenly felt Lili's mental amusement swelling.

'Oh my god, are you jealous?'

'NO.' Raz mentally answered a bit too quickly.

'You totally are!' He heard Lili giggling in his head. 'That's so cute, Raz.'

'I am not jealous. I just don't want him to be botheri- Does he have to touch your shoulder like that?'

Lili just giggled again. Raz broke the connection, sighed and crossed his arms. He wasn't jealous, wasn't he? He just wanted to be a good boyfriend and make sure she was comfortable and not being bothered by someone whom she didn't want bothering her. That didn't make him a jealous person. Besides, he knew Lili too well to even think she'd go for some cheap smooth talk. He knew he shouldn't be jealous. He had seen how his mom acted towards other people, she always was a little flirty in her way of speaking, be it toward a man or a woman and he had NEVER seen Sasha get jealous. Not that he'd show it anyway. Not that he'd even act on it anyway too. He was far too rational for that. Raz sighed. Okay, maybe he was a little jealous.

“You know, just a couple of months ago you wouldn't have cared a lick that someone was talking to Lili like that, Poots.” Raz turned around. Lizzie stood behind him, arms crossed and a very amused look on her face. “I am pretty sure you would have been standing next to her, flirting back with her. Throw in some of that Vodello charm.”

“Oh, haha!” Raz said, a barely noticeable blush on his face.

Lizzie snorted. “Just messing with you, Poots.” She smiled. “But I'd never take you for the jealous type.”

“I'm not ….” He paused. He relented with a sigh. “Is it normal or am I being a bad boyfriend?”

“Dude, you are 10 years old and just got in a relationship with your best friend. No-one expects you to have figured out all of the feelings that come with that. ” Lizzie said sympathetically. “I'd say it's very normal you act like this. Heck, I'm less than a year away from being 17 and I still get jealous spells when I see a pretty girl or boy talking to Millie. But I trust Millie way too much to think she'd break my trust for a cheap flirt like that.”

“I trust Lili!” Raz defended himself. “I do! But, ...it's just ...”

Lizzie held up a hand. “Like I said, you're still a kid and will act like a kid. Nothing wrong with figuring things out on the go.” She looked past Raz's shoulder, a smirk spreading on her lips. “Besides, I think that Lili has a handle on things.”

Raz suddenly heard a loud yelp behind him. By the time he had turned around he saw the flirting boy on the ground, hand against his eye, with a furious Lili looming over him, shaking a balled fist at him. The boy scrambled up and ran away crying, his friends in tow. Lili huffed and skipped over to Raz. When she reached him, she linked an arm around his' and kissed his cheek.

“See, nothing to worry about.” Lili said with a grin. “You got jealous over nothing.”

Lizzie laughed as Raz started defended himself again. Suddenly they head Millie calling her. Millie ran very quickly to where they were standing and promptly whispered something in Lizzie's ear. Her expression turned to a scowl and she let out a groan – almost a growl. “Okay, stay with Raz and Lili. I'll go handle it.” With that said, she ran off.

Raz felt worry wash over him. “What is happening?”

Millie gave him a kind smile. “Nothing to worry about. Just ...” She looked over her shoulder, to where Lizzie was running. In the distance, they could see the others standing there. Something was going on there, but they were to far for Raz and Lili to hear what. Millie sighed. “Some jerk – who I assume had already drunk way to much booze this early in the day – started bothering us. Out of nowhere, he just stared wailing on Morris, saying ...” She bit her lip. “..things I won't repeat in front on two minors.”

Raz groaned. He could very much guess what Jerk was saying about Morris and what the thing was that he was commenting about. The nerve of some people.“Is Morris okay?”

“He's fine. He didn't even seemed to be bothered by it. He's tough, that one.” Millie said with a grin. Her smile faltered. “But when Sam, Gisu and Norma started to defending him, he just ...started flirting with them. A big 180. Norma basically said something that implied that she wasn't into men and ….” Millie looked over her shoulder again. “He ...started saying some ...really, really, really bad shi- STUFF.”

Lili groaned. “Like what?”

“Just ...bad things.” Millie said. “Just things you say if you are out to hurt people badly, if you are a person who has no any sort of regard to a person's feelings. He was getting ….violent, so I ran go get Lizzie. I didn't know what else to do.”

Raz started running, but Millie held him back. “Lizzie is handling it, Razputin.” She said sternly. “I won't have you be involved with that.”

“But Norma ….”

“ - has Adam, Gisu, Sam, Morris and Lizzie backing her up.” Millie said. “You only will get in the way.”

Raz let his arms hang. Millie knelt down and smiled warmly at him. “I wish I had a little brother like you, Pooter.” She said, using one of Lizzie's favorite nicknames for him. “There would have been things in my life that – AGH!” She suddenly yelped. She got bright red. “Darn-it Lizzie, you know I hate it when you do that psychic-y head-mind-talk with me without warning me.” She said aloud, a bit embarrassed.

She let out a breath and listened to Lizzie. She nodded and hummed a few times. “So what did ya do?” She listened again. A grin spread on her face. “Nice one!” She said, pride in her voice. “Okay, we're coming.”

She turned to Raz and Lili, grinning brightly. “Situation has been handled, we are allowed to go now.”

Raz and Lili quickly made their way to where the other Interns were, Millie closely behind them. As they ran, they passed a cursing man, who was trying very hard to keep a hold of his solidly frozen swimming trunk that was in the progress of shattering with every step he took.

Lili laughed. “Yup, that's Lizzie handiwork, all right.” She said, making Raz chuckle.

“That teaches him to act stupid to other people.” Raz said.

They quickly arrived to the spot where he and the other Interns had made their 'resting zone'. Everyone was there, discussing what happened and patting Lizzie on the back. Everyone, minus Norma, who was sitting a bit further away, staring at he sea.

“Hey, everyone alright here, guys?” Raz asked, still running.

Gisu waved away his concern. “Yeah, yeah, just some boozed up jerk with a big mouth, nothing we couldn't handle.” Her smile fell. “But Norma ...” She looked over to where Norma was sitting. She sighed. “She's in a bad way. He used some really harsh language, Razzy. Really hurtful.”

Without another word, Raz turned to where Norma was sitting and made his way over there. He quickly arrived there. Norma was staring at the sea, listening to the sound of the waves, hugging her knees. She looked like she had been crying a bit. Raz didn't say a word, he just sat down next to her and waited. After a minute, Raz made his move and scooted a bit closer to her. Norma reacted immediately and wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

They sat together like that for a few minutes, before Norma let out a sigh.

“You okay?” Raz asked. “I know it's a dumb question, but -”

“It's not a dumb question, Raz.” Norma said, interrupting him. She turned to him and presented him with a big smile. “And I am fine. I really am.” Her smile faltered and she sighed. “I'm just acting dumb. I shouldn't be affected by anything what was said to me. I will not repeat anything he said, it's not worth it. But ... It's just …a lot of the things that Jerk said ...”

She sighed and went back to staring at the sea for a while. Raz patiently waited for her to start again.

“Some of the things he said, I heard it a lot of times before, growing up.” Norma said. “From Grandfather, from Father, from business partners from father ...A lot of them had opinions about LGTBTQA+ community. None of it good.” She let out a humorless laugh. “And this was before I realized I was a lesbian, so I had chimed in with my own opinions a few times in that time. Never targeted to Lizzie, of course. Dad didn't know about her being bi and I was keeping that secret. I always thought that if I said those things about people that weren't my sister that ...” She paused.

She let out a chuckle. “Don't mind me. I am just venting.” She said. “Seems like I have still some things to get to terms with.”

She paused again.

“When that Jerk started spouting his nonsense, it just reminded me of myself. And it made me feel ...” She let out a sigh, burying her head in her knees.

“You know, a few years ago I was at Whispering Rock and of course, Bobby Zilch was there too.” Raz began. “And like most years, he started with his regular act of bullying people, me included. And I usually don't feel bothered at all by his nonsense. He's just a big tooth bully and not worth my time. But one day, he took things a bit further. He said the reason my birth parents had 'thrown me away' was because 'they knew I wasn't worth anything and not worthy of their love'”

Norma looked at Raz, recognition in her eyes.

“That really hurt me.” Raz said. “That hurt me like I never thought it would hurt. And I got angry. I was this close to start fighting him. But then a couple volunteer camp councilors, who had heard the whole thing go down, came and took both me and Bobby somewhere apart to talk with. And do you know what the person who took me said to me?”

Norma didn't answer, but just smiled.

“She said that the words of people like that aren't worth listening to. That my 'worth' is measured by my own actions and opinions and by the actions and opinions of the people I love and love me back. And you know, she was right.”

Norma chuckled. “Sounds like a very wise person.”

“She was.” Raz said with a big smile. He leaned his head on her shoulder. “Still is. And I think you should take her advice as well.”

Norma let out a laugh. “Maybe I should.” She gave Raz a big smile and promptly pulled him into a a hub. “Thank you, Raz.”

Raz blushed a bit. “Hey, for all the times you are there for me, it's a nice change of pace that I can do that for you.”

Norma chuckled. “Oh Raz ...”

“What?”

“You have no idea, don't you?” She asked with a big smile. “You are here for me – and Lizzie – every day. Being your big sisters have really helped us with coming to terms with ...a lot.” She planted a kiss on Raz's head, making his cheeks burn bright red. “You inspire me to be a better person every day, little brother.”

“All in a day's work, I guess?” Raz replied with a shy smile.

Norma let out a breath and stood up, wiping of the sand of her. “Anyway, enough feeling sorry for myself.” She said, giving Raz a smile. “I think we've deserved some ice cream, don't you think?”

“Definitely!” Raz jumped up. “I don't think I have brought money, though”

Norma smiled and ruffled his hair. “My treat.” she said. “For being there for me today.”

“Deal!” Raz grabbed Norma's hand and they walked back together. “But next time, it's on me.”

[bts-hyperfixation]

Noona - kinktober - day 17

Jungkook Noona kink + overstimulation

The minute Jungkook walks into the room you go quiet. You and Joon had been sat on barstools at the kitchen island talking about the disappointing sex you’d had on your date the night before. If any of the other boys had walked into the room you probably would have continued the conversation. Probably would have dragged them into it with you. Not Jungkook though, never Jungkook. In your head, he was your innocent little bunny, despite only having a small age gap. It didn’t matter, part of you still saw him as the maknae from 2013.

Nothing annoyed Jungkook more.

What had started as a small crush, had slowly manifested into a slow obsession within Jungkook. It wasn’t so bad that he was stalking you or anything awful. He just made a point of sitting next to you at every opportunity, laying on you when drunk, holding your hand when walking somewhere. You just found it endearing, he was your little puppy. It was cute. You never really thought that much about it, so the thought had never crossed your mind. The band had certainly noticed. Which is why, as you quieted, Joon thought it’d be funnier to amp up the volume

“So he was really shit in bed huh?” he questioned, just loud enough to prick JK’s ears. You hit him playfully, warning him to shut up. “It sounds like you just need someone to get you well and truly off Y/N” he shoots a meaningful look at his friend prompting you to hit him again.

“Don’t talk like that with Kookie in the room” you scold as you pull the younger man close to you, covering his ears.

“Noona” he whines “I’m not a child” you giggle as his pout suggests otherwise. He removes your hands from his ears and places them in your lap before hugging you from behind making sure your arms were secure so you couldn’t handicap him again.

“Yeah Y/N he is all grown up now, look at him, the boy is a tank these days” Namjoon jokes. It's true, puberty has been kind to the boy, filling him out well. It’s just not something you’d paid attention to. You feel JK flex around you as if to make a point and you giggle.

“Namjoon-ah!” A shout comes from somewhere else in the dorm “Jimin stole my dumplings!” Jin’s voice echo’s through the halls

“Did not!” Jimin shouts in reply. Namjoon shakes his head but gets up to check on them anyway. He pats your leg and winks at Jungkook before leaving the kitchen. Jungkook takes the opportunity and moves into the newly vacated seat at the breakfast bar.

“You can talk to me about that sort of stuff too you know?” he places his hand meaningfully on your leg before his eyes lock with yours. Namjoon’s right, he really has grown into himself in the last few years. You blink a few times to clear your head and push his hand away.

“Oh Kookie you know that I can’t” you try to laugh it off but his serious expression doesn’t change.

“Why not?” the question drips with sincerity. Yeah, why not? It’s not something you ever thought to analyse, it has just always been that way to you. While you are thinking of the best way to answer his hand sneaks back onto your leg, this time venturing up your thigh. The fact that he is refusing to break eye contact has doubt creeping into your mind.

“I...I don’t know, you’re just my baby Kookie that’s all I’ve ever thought about it” your answer is disappointing but he takes comfort in the fact that this time you haven’t moved his hand away.

“Well, maybe it’s time you did think about it Noona” he stands and positions himself between your legs, his spare hand finding its way to your cheek forcing you to return his gaze. His stare is intense, and you lose your train of thought. You’d never noticed how deep his eyes were. Before you can really make sense of what’s happening his lips are on yours. Soft but desperate.

“Jungkook… we shouldn’t” the kiss has left you a little breathless, but you try to keep your head straight. This was your bunny, your innocent Kookie. So why all of a sudden was the idea of his lips all over you sounding like such a good idea?

“Please… let me prove myself. Let me show you I’m all grown up now” he nuzzles into your neck, pressing small kisses into the sensitive flesh. You half-heartedly push at him, trying to regain your composure. He stands his ground, moving to nibble at your earlobe.

“I could make you feel amazing Y/N, I could have you cumming for days. I’ll make your legs shake if you just let me” the low growl that leaves his mouth shocks you enough for you to pull away. You stare at him in disbelief. He had never spoken like that in front of you. The other boys had been telling you for months that he was the filthiest of all of them, but you wouldn’t believe them. Every time they went into grotesque detail about one of their latest conquests, you’d scold them and tell them to be more like Jungkook, take the 'kiss and not tell' approach. Of course, they’d laugh and try to convince you otherwise.

“Come on Y/N what have you got to lose? Let me do this for you… let me feel your release drip down my fingers, let me taste every inch of you, let me drive you crazy.” You could feel your panties sticking to your core at this point, the boy was relentless you’d give him that. You stand and walk away from him. His face falls. He is about to admit defeat before he sees where you're actually headed… his bedroom.

“Maybe it’s time I see you for the man you’ve become,” you say, slipping into his room. He is on you so fast you’ve barely had time to take in his room. It’s a lot cleaner than you thought it’d be. The odd comic or item of clothing is strewn on the floor, but the bed is made. Well, it was made until he had thrown you onto it moments ago. Jungkook was straddled over you, pining you as he kissed you with more passion than you thought possible. He must’ve thrown his shirt off as he walked through the door as you find your hands running along his naked skin. He shivers under your touch. He manages to find enough restraint to drag himself away from your lips long enough to help you take your shirt off. He takes the opportunity to lick a stripe from your belly button to your bra before removing that too. He returns to kissing you like you are his only source of oxygen, one hand on the back of your neck, the other playing with the sensitive skin of your right nipple.

“Can… I… move down?” He asks in between small pecks along your chin. You nod and he wastes no time undoing your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one fluid movement. You close your legs, suddenly very aware of who is between your legs. He chuckles at your suddenly shy demeanour and pries your thighs apart, filling the new gap with his head. He tentatively licks up your slit. His eyes go wide as if has only just realised what he is doing. You are about to ask him he wants to stop when he starts lapping at your folds like a man starved.

The knot in your stomach builds much quicker than you anticipated as the eager boy sucks on your clit. He slips a finger into your dripping pussy and curls it with such precision that he hits your sweet spot instantly. Your moans only spur him on as they get needier. The minute he adds a second finger it's over. Your walls clench and he drags his fingers out, only to replace them with his tongue trying to catch every drop. You expect him to stop here, move onto his own pleasure or stop entirely, he proved his point. It was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. As soon as you come down, his movements resume. This time his fingers are rubbing at your clit furiously while his tongue fucks into you.

“Kookiiie” you whine feeling a little too sensitive. You’re not really sure what your whining for... for him to stop? Or for him to go faster? He takes the latter option moving his fingers to join his tongue leaving his thumb to take care of your bundle of nerves. You wriggle as the feeling teeters between pleasure and pain. The hand he’d been using to hold up your thigh moves to keep your stomach pressed down, forcing you to endure this sweet torture.

“Noona” his voice sends vibrations through your core, only adding to the sensation “can you come for me again?” the dark tone in his voice has you so close to unravelling, just waiting to dive off the cliff. “Come on Noona, show me what you’ve got left” this orgasm hits just as hard as the last. Your legs shake, body completely unprepared for the newest wave of arousal that JK once again licks at happily. His head comes back up so it's level with yours, but his hand keeps playing with your clit. Your whines are breathy and small from the overstimulation. He watches you, loving the way he makes your face contort just using his hand.

“Ah... Kook...” the sound of his name tumbling for your lips makes his already painfully hard dick twitch in his pants. You're desperate to reach out and help him but his spare hand pushes you away whenever you try. His ministrations on the small bundle of nerves had your orgasm building again sooner than you would’ve liked. Your body hadn’t recovered from the other two. This one would leave you just a quivering puddle. You start to protest as the knot tightens but he covers your mouth with his, letting you taste yourself on him. Preventing you from stopping the overstimulation. You lose yourself in his embrace and let yourself come undone again. After this one, he finally gives you some relief bringing his hand away and licking the remaining juices off. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them away. He moves so he is hovering over you, lined up at the right angle to enter you. His long hair falls in his eyes as he looks at you for approval to continue. You nod in approval and he pushes himself all the way in before giving you a couple of seconds to adjust.

His thrusts are as brutal as his fingers had been. You feel so full that you think he could split you at any minute. You don’t stop him though. The stretch felt amazing. It doesn’t last too long before he pulls out, finishing on your stomach. He finds a towel somewhere in the room and wipes his sperm away. You’re still shaking when he sits back on the bed. He chuckles and pulls you into his lap holding you close.

“Are you okay Noona?” he asks a little worried he might’ve gone too far. You nod sleepily and curl further into him.

“Never been better” he can’t help smiling with pride at your words.

Kinktober

Masterlist

Taglist

@adventuresinwonderlust @samros95 @thedarkwinterrose

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 18 - Making a House a Home

Chapter 1     Chapter 17

The apartment was filled with boxes.  Just a sea of boxes.  Thank God they got help moving all the boxes from her and his apartments because she was pretty sure this would have taken them weeks on their own… well on Dick’s own since he wouldn’t let her carry anything heavier than a few books, about five was her allowed limit.  Which was exceptionally frustrating because he was probably right and she probably shouldn’t carry anything heavier, but she probably would have if given the chance.

It had been a long day of packing and coordinating already and she was ready to eat and relax with Dick for a bit before they tackled the rest of the unpacking.  She made her way out of the bedroom and toward the living room, but paused before she reached it.  She could hear music coming from the living room, which wasn’t at all unusual or unexpected.  What was unusual and unexpected was the type of music it was.

“Is that… are you listening to circus music?” Marinette asked uncertainly.  She was pretty sure she’d heard him humming circus music before but humming was subconscious.  It was things that got stuck in your head and you couldn’t get out.  This was conscious.  This was him deciding to forego typical music choices and actively search for this music.  This was wanting to listen to circus music.

Dick whirled around with wide eyes at having been caught. He chuckled self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I tend to do that.”

“Listen to circus music?” She asked incredulously.

“Yeah, it reminds me of my childhood and my parents,” he shrugged sheepishly.

She tilted her head slightly watching him as he focused intently on the box in front of him.  “Did they used to take you to the circus a lot?”  Her voice was soft and inquisitive.  This was a part of him he hadn’t shared before.  He didn’t seem to like talking about his parents or his childhood at all.

“I… did I not mention growing up in a circus?” His voice sounded surprised and he looked down as though trying to remember a nonexistent conversation.

She blinked at him a few times.  “No…” she started out slowly, “no, I think I’d remember that.  You haven’t really talked about your parents.  You just said they died when you were nine and then Bruce took you in.  You don’t really talk about your childhood at all, other than you were in diapers when you started studying gymnastics.  Were they performers?”

A thoughtful expression settled on Dick’s face as he recalled his parents. He nodded slowly.  “They were trapeze artists.  We all were.”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and settled on the couch to listen.  “That’s why you are so good at gymnastics and started when you were in diapers?”

Dick nodded absentmindedly as he started looking through the stack of framed posters leaning against the wall.  “And why the manor has a trapeze set up.”  He pulled out a poster leaning against the wall to show her.  The poster was a stylized poster of a family of three swinging and flipping on a trapeze with bold letters sprawled across it.  “We were the Flying Graysons at Haley’s Circus.”

“You're kidding,” she chuckled.  “So you flew through the air with the greatest of ease?”

He grinned back, “What can I say, I was a daring young man on the flying trapeze.”

She gave him a supportive smile.  “That’s why your Mom called you Little Bird, because you flew through the air.”

He nodded and turned back to the poster.  When he spoke again it was soft and respectful.  “We all flew.  I miss it a lot, the feeling of flying through the air with a partner.”  

Marinette looked at the poster, a distant look settling in her eyes.  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

He looked back at her with a confused quirk to his head.  “You do?”

“Oh, not like you.  I… never mind.  Akuma stuff,” she deferred, waving him off.  “Tell me more about it.  About your parents and the circus.”  She looked up at him with big, inquisitive eyes.  She really did want to know more about him and the things that mattered to him, that made him the man he was.  And if that got the attention off her as well, then so much the better.

Dick grinned and sat on the couch next to her.  “It was great.  We traveled all around.  I got to see so many places growing up and my parents were always right there for me. My Mom used to have the best, warmest smile.  She made every place feel like home.”  He looked over at Marinette and ran his fingers along her jaw.  “Your smile reminds me of hers.”  

Marinette blushed and looked down.  She took a moment to gather herself and finally cleared her throat. “What about your Dad?”

“My Dad was great.  He was supportive and loving.  His laugh boomed out of him.  He laughed with his whole body.”

“That sounds like you.”  Marinette gazed adoringly up at him.  “You laugh so hard your eyes crinkle and you throw your head back. Your whole chest shakes, which feels amazing when I’m pressed up against you when you do it.  It’s always so full of life.  You must have his laugh.”  Dick stared at her in a lovesick daze.  He was about to pull her to him and kiss her senseless when she spoke up again.  “What else?  What are your favorite memories?”

Dick continued to stare a few more moments uncertain if he wanted to continue or take her back to the bedroom and initiate their apartment, but her eyes were so fascinated, drinking in every detail of his life he was willing to share, that he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.  “Flying,” he finally choked out.  “Flying through the air with my parents,” he elaborated more evenly.  “And wandering around the circus.  The environment was always upbeat and fun.  Oh! And Zitka!”  His eyes lit up at the name.

“Zitka?”

“The elephant.  I loved Zitka.  I would hang out around her all the time.  I used to help wash her down and we would play all the time.  I visited the circus a few years ago… she still remembered me,” he finished quietly.

Marinette moved to cuddle closer to him.  “That sounds amazing and if she still remembered you, you must have really been important to her too.”

Dick tightened her arm around her and looked down at her. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, memorizing every curve and plane.  He started to lean down towards her and suddenly cocked his head to the side halting his progress.  A sly smile formed on his lips and he jumped up.  He turned, bowing at the waist and offered his hand to Marinette.  “May I have this dance?”

Marinette giggled at him finally noticing the change in music. The circus music had been replaced by a slow, romantic song.  She placed her hand in his and let him help her off of the couch and into his waiting arms. “This one and all the ones after,” she answered sweetly.

Dick’s smile became awed.  He leaned closer to her ear as they swayed together.  “Promise?” he whispered.

Marinette bit her lip and looked up at him through half lidded eyes. She nodded shyly, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden.  Dick had been the one to reveal so much about himself and yet it felt like she was the one exposed, his honesty pulling out her emotions to lay bare.

Dick kept one arm around her waist but brought the other up to cup her face and slowly run his thumb over her cheek.  He stared in her eyes, unable to look away from her tender, loving gaze.  It took him a few moments to remember how to move his mouth to form words.  He took a breath and licked his dry lips. “Marinette, I lo…”  The distinctive romance killing chime sounded from his phone interrupting his next words.  Dick looked up at the ceiling with an aggravated, frustrated groan. “Seriously?”  He took a deep breath and looked back at Marinette. “I’m sorry.  I have to… I’m sorry.  I’ll be right back.”  He walked into the other room to take the call.

Marinette took the time to fan her hot, flushed face.  That man was going to be the death of her. Her eye caught on the poster he had pulled out earlier.  She reached out and touched the poster, running her hands over the figures in it. A warm smile spread across her lips at knowing more about Dick’s parents and a plan started forming.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick sighed coming back into the room meekly.

Marinette could tell from the guilty look on his face he didn’t mean just the phone call.  Her shoulders slumped in defeat.  “How long will you be gone?”

Dick sighed heavily and pulled her with him as he leaned against the arm of the couch.  “I’m not sure.  A couple days at least.”  He wrapped his arms around her, settling her between his legs and laid his head on hers. “Less than a week,” remorse was heavy in his voice.

Marinette nodded weakly.  “And when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.  Early.  I’ll have to pack tonight.”  He sighed heavily again.  “I’m so sorry.  I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think it was important, but it really is.  I have to go.  I’m sorry I’m leaving you with this mess.  Feel free to leave it all until I get back.”

Marinette nodded and gave him an unconvincing smile.  “It’s okay.  It’s work right?  You have to go.  Timing sucks, but it isn’t like you have a choice.  At least we’ll get to spend our first night here together.  And I’ll have Adrien come over and help.”

Dick’s semblance of a brave face fell away.  He pulled her deeper into his arms and held her as closely as he could, nuzzling into her and committing her calming smell to memory. He hated the Court of Owls.  Everything about them destroyed his life.  He did not want to go.  He wanted to spend their first nights living together, together.  That was one of the primary benefits of moving in together, the babies, but also because he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.  And it was a way to ensure she actually slept instead of working through the night on designing or sleeping in a chair at her studio.  

Instead, she was going to be spending her nights alone and he’d have to have one of his brothers check on her.  She was going to have to unpack on her own and have Adrien come and help her.  He felt like he was abandoning her.  He should be doing those things not them.  But he couldn’t not go.  He had to go.  He needed to stop the Court before whatever their plan was could go into fruition.

He felt a bump against his elbow and looked down. Kismet was rubbing against him to get in on the hug.  He smiled at the interruption.  Well, not completely alone.  She would always have her black cat to watch out for her.  Marinette chuckled and picked up the kitten.  “Feeling left out, little one?”  She lightly scratched between her eyes and brought her into their embrace.  “Why don’t we spend tonight eating take out and cuddling on the couch instead of unpacking? I’d rather spend my time with you in your arms than unpacking.”

Dick grinned at her, kissing her temple.  “I like that idea.  I’ll order, you pick the show.”

<><><><><> 

Has he mentioned he hated the Court of Owls?  Six days investigating for one paltry lead.  Six days away from Marinette and their new apartment.  Six days he left her to unpack all on her own.  He was already a shit roommate and partner.  He was going to have to make this up to her, yet again.  He knew she was excited to move in with him and he felt like he needed to prove to her that it was the right choice.  It was a good decision.  He was a good decision.

He fumbled with his keys, finally finding the right one.  He smirked as a thought came to him.  He opened the door.  “Honey, I’m… home,” he finished lightly.  A gasp left his lips.  

Marinette walked into the room in a beautiful baby doll dress that accentuated her breasts and hung lightly over her baby bump.  “Is that noise for the dinner, the apartment, or me?”

Dick took in the sight of the fully decorated apartment, delicious smelling dinner, and enticing girlfriend and could only nod dumbfounded, completely unsure which one to address first.  “When did…”

Marinette giggled nervously.  “If you don’t like anything, we can change it,” she rushed to assure him.  “I didn’t know if you would appreciate decorating with me or having it done when you got home more, so I guessed.”

“Marinette…” he looked around taking in more of the details.  There were pictures and designs from Marinette’s childhood and friends mixed in with items from Dick’s life and childhood. “Marinette this is amazing.”

Marinette let out a long sigh of relief.  “Oh thank God.”  She looked around proudly.  “I can’t take all the credit.  Or most of it actually.  I did all the accessories and the stuff on the walls but… a few days after you left Bruce showed up with a bunch of painters, moving men, and furniture.”

Dick sighed again.  “Yeah, that sounds like Bruce.  Mari, do you like the furniture?”

Marinette gave him a reassuring smile.  “I love it.  Your family was conspiring behind our backs.  You know you said to go ahead and find nursery furniture I liked?” Dick nodded.  “I went looking with Tim and Duke.  While we were out Tim kept asking about my style.  He must be amazing in negotiations.  I didn’t even realize he was pumping me for information until Bruce showed up with the colors and furniture.  He assured me it was a mix of my style and yours, but if we didn’t like it he paid extra for them to come and switch it out.” Dick sighed again.  “I tried to deny it and not accept, but he wouldn’t let me.”

Dick shook his head and kissed her cheek.  “No, this is Bruce’s housewarming present for us.  It’s how he shows he cares and is happy for us.  Honestly, he tamed it down from what I expected him to try, probably out of respect for you, knowing how you would react.”

“This is tame?” Marinette exclaimed.

“If he thought you’d accept it, he probably would have bought us an entire house and furnished it.  And with the twins coming, it probably would have been a manor near his so he could visit more often.  Or try to convince you to move us into the manor.”  He lowered his voice in a fairly good imitation of Bruce, “There’s more than enough space and I know Alfred would love to hear the sounds of little feet running around the manor again.”

Marinette giggled and pulled his attention back to her again.  “So you really like it?”  Dick nodded still looking at the pictures.  “I asked Alfred for some pictures.  He had a bunch.  We went through quite a few.” She gave him a secretive smile.

Dick groaned.  “Oh God, how bad did it get?”

“Well, I’ve officially decided you suck.  You never had an awkward stage.  You just went right from adorable to cute to hot to sexy.  It isn’t fair.”

He chuckled and turned away pretending to examine more pictures while he hid his blush.  “So Alfred provided the pictures, Bruce provided the furniture, Tim supplied the intel.” He looked back at her with a smile.  “Sounds like a family affair.”

Marinette shook her head.  “You have no idea.  You’ve only seen the living room.”

Dick whipped his head around.  “There’s more?”

Marinette grimaced slightly.  “Tim did more than get intel.  He went ahead and bought all my favorite nursery furniture I marked to show you.  Duke was collecting the tags for everything while Tim distracted me.  The entire apartment is fully stocked.  Bruce bought the furniture.  Alfred provided the pictures and talked with my parents and together told Bruce which kitchen supplies to get.  Steph and Cass helped me pick out accessories and baby clothes.  We had a few girl’s nights while you were gone.  I suspect you told them not to let me work too late,” she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.  Dick gave her his best unconvincing innocent look.  

“Anyway, Tim provided the intel and bought the nursery furniture.  He was surprisingly insightful in helping to select a glider we could sit in for hours at a time.  Duke and Adrien helped set up the cribs and other nursery furniture. Jason provided a full library of books, from baby books to books they’ll like when they’re a bit older.  It was a complete family affair.  They were all really helpful and sweet.”

“Except Damian,” Dick added sadly.

“I just haven’t gotten to him yet,” Marinette assured him with a bright smile. “Bruce hired the painters and chose the colors for the entire apartment, made sure I approved before they painted, for everything but the nursery.  The nursery was all me… and Damian and Barbara.  Want to see it?”  He eyed her suspiciously, but nodded.  She took his hand and guided him back, the excitement in her smile rubbed off on him. His smile widened as large as hers. She took a deep breath and opened the nursery door.

Dick gasped and took a few unsteady steps into the room.  He looked around unable to take in all the details so he focused on the biggest things, the paintings on the wall.  Behind the cribs, acting like headboards, there were circus tents, the tops of the tents extending above the cribs.  One pained in red and white stripes, the other pained in blue and white stripes.  On the opposite wall were the extremely wide, completely full bookshelf and glider. Above it was a painting of trapeze artists in Flying Grayson colors mid-flight.  On the third wall were the dressers and above them were framed original posters of the Flying Graysons, Haley’s Circus, and Zitka.  In the corner were ropes hanging down and a board linking them high up with a few bird stuffies placed on it.

He stumbled over to the cribs in a daze looking in.  The sheets had elephants on them and in them were stuffed elephants.  Later he would notice the robins and bluebirds flying above the tents and the ladybug, bee, fox, turtle, and cat poking out between the furniture, but currently, he could barely take in the big things, let alone the details. Marinette came up behind him to wrap her arms around him, as much as her protruding belly would allow her to. “Barbara tracked down the posters and found a bunch of reference images.  I sketched kind of what I wanted and Damian and I painted it together.” She left out his reasoning that this was for Grayson, not her.  He deserved something nice to look at and while her sketching may be adequate for her needs, her artistic ability was extremely lacking.  But he did it, so Marinette was taking that as a win.  “Selina bought a lot of the baby toys and bouncers as well as toys for Kismet.  Adrien tag-teamed with Steph, Cass, and Jason to force me to bed at a reasonable time so I didn’t stay up all night sewing the elephants.  The entire family got together to help.  They all banded together to work on it.”

She smiled up at him and wiped away his tears that were spilling out.  He picked her up and hugged her so tightly, it was bordering on dangerous for her.  God, he loved this woman so much.  This was perfect.  Everything about this was perfect.  She was perfect.  He didn’t deserve her, but he sure as hell was going to do everything in his power to change that and protect her and their family.

Chapter 19

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin

[elsewhereuniversity]

rescue mission

It’s been five weeks and two days since Fake Dana was kil- disappeared and Real Dana came back. I didn’t know exactly what would happen to me should I complain about it to anyone but the dean, so I was laying low, but… the recent discovery of my roommate’s skin being a bright shade of green changed some of my plans.

When I told him - Threeox - about Real Dana murdering Fake Dana, and now living invisibly on the campus (I’d never seen her again), he sighed, locked the door and windows, before making me sit on the floor between our beds and getting out a small wooden key out of a seemingly lidless box made of shimmery dark brown wood. The box was amazingly carved, so much so that looking at it too long made me dizzy, and I had to close my eyes not to faint as the patterns on the lid started to sway as to a sharp breeze.

“Threeox, what’s that about ?” I asked, a little confused - and a whole lot scared.

That was probably not my smartest move - Threeox doesn’t talk per se, he just… gets his point across in a remarkable way that I had yet to pin down. A series of drawings of a cat with five eyes and a full ten minutes of interpretative dancing later, I kind of gathered that Fake Dana was trapped in the mirrors in the North Dorm, and couldn’t get out because of all the iron.

Naturally, I tried to organise a rescue mission, but gathering partners proved difficult. Real Dana apparently gained quite a reputation among the Student Witches, and everyone kept looking at me weirdly when I asked where Fake Dana was and if we could, like, rescue her maybe ? No one wanted to talk to me for more than two minutes, fidgeting uncomfortably and asking me if I’d packed my suitcase yet. I wasn’t going anywhere without Fake Dana, but hey, who am I to contradict the masses ? I’d just have to lay low a little longer.

It started on rocky grounds but I did gather for this mission a few seniors, all knights that had a history of being kind(er) to the Changelings, even though I’d never heard of them before. Their names were Toll, Bell and Eulogy, which - okay, some of us have weird names, but… It’s not that hard to pick a happy one. I couldn’t quite remember what mine was now but people had no trouble remembering me when I talked to them, so I assumed that was fine.

Add to the knights a freshman, EXO. Freshmen are probably a bit too young and frightened for that, but the fearless EXO wasn’t, uh, exactly a freshman ? Freshperson ? They were at least two metres tall and they had that look in their eyes that told you not to mess with them or they’d do unspeakable things that I, well, couldn’t speak of. Just know they were good for stuff like this. Or so I assumed, since they were the one who brought the knights to my bi-weekly “Where is Fake Dana” search.

We got some supplies: the baseball bat Fake Dana hid under my bed that one night the dean decided to do a room check, a good couple teaspoons of charcoal, some rags, a freaking battleaxe that Toll swooshed around like it weighed nothing, and that one river rock the archivist kindly lent us, and we departed for the wild wild north. Midnight seemed an appropriate time.

The dorm looked fancy, not gonna lie, the iron structure glimmered and almost rippled under the moonlight. I felt EXO shiver as we entered, their eyes losing any life that they might have had, their skin getting that weird greenish hue it didn’t have just moments before. The knights also shivered, but that might have been the cold.

The entrance was deserted, no sign of life save for a calico cat who meowed at us and tried to eat my shoelaces. She promptly departed when I told her they were a gift from the president, though I didn’t specify which president. It was the president of the cross-stitching club I was in in middle school, and she, uh, suffered from a slight eye issue after she looked through my hagstone. I mean, I did warn her about seeing the Nethers through the hole, but she didn’t listen.

Anyways, enough of that. Toll started to hack at the nearest door with his axe, waking up the poor unsuspecting students living there. “Where the fuck is she ?”, I asked, peeking around Toll’s shoulders. The two girls looked at each other, at Toll’s axe, at each other again, and one of them ended up spitting out “Basement. Third door to the left. Hope you die a slow, painful death, girl, you deserve it.”

Eulogy, true to her name, sang a few verses in Tamil, and we all collected our spirits before walking towards the basement. The iron in the walls seemed to sing to the beat of our steps, the doors creaking to the rhythm of our breaths. EXO seemed paler and paler under the dimmed overhead lights, until Eulogy sprayed us all with what I can only assume is water from that Wishing Well we’re not exactly supposed to talk about. That seemed to calm us down a little. I squeezed EXO’s hand when they looked at me questioningly, my smile thin and eyes dulled by fatigue. I couldn’t sleep that well since Fake Dana was gone, so I just wanted this to be over with already. 

The third door was cracked open, but no sounds emanated from behind the heavy iron and the weird, Tolkien-inspired words of advice in elvish. I could recognise “The way is shut, and the Dead keep it”, which wasn’t even the full correct quote. The door swayed to an invisible breeze and it opened way too silently for something made of rusty metal. As we went down the stairs, we could hear the stone crackle with contained electricity, so much so that Toll, Bell and Eulogy decided to stay up to guard our backs. EXO grit their teeth but didn’t stop, grabbing Toll’s axe on the way.

“Good luck, bro, and good riddance, you girl,” Eulogy waved, and the three knights were gone as if they were never here. I wondered what she meant by that, but I couldn’t ask in time. EXO gestured to the stairs, mouth shut tight. I was kind of getting tired of everyone telling me I should leave, so I hoped at least Fake Dana would help with that. Hadn’t I been working so hard to rescue her ?

At the bottom of the narrow stairs were two doors, also made out of metal, and what Threeox told me about - the mirror.

Ten feet tall, circled with iron chains, the metal behind the glass pane was reminiscent of clouds, though it was most likely silver. I could see a prostrate silhouette in the bottom right corner, faint tremors running through her whole body, sobs muffled, whimpers of pain spread between fits of coughing.

I yelled something I couldn’t really understand, a guttural sound that made her raise her head, and I saw Fake Dana’s eyes grow wide as she recognised me.

“Missed me ?” She smiled, teeth sharp.

My throat went tight as she started to slam her fists against the glass. “It’ll be okay soon. I promise,” I said, examining the lock keeping the iron chains together.

“Hey, move, I’ll take care of it,” a voice I pinned on EXO whispered in my ear. “Tell her to stand back.”

I did so, and Fake Dana retreated to the far side of the mirrorspace. With three swipes of his axe, EXO managed to hack away most of the chains, and the rest I hastily discarded, fists pounding on the glass as Fake Dana pounded back. 

“The key. The lock.”

“Fuck.” I started rummaging through my satchel, finally finding the small piece of wood that has slithered into the bag of crackers I keep for the crows. “Where is that fucking lock ?”

EXO gestured to the back of the mirror and helped me turn it around, their skin starting to sea as they kept pushing the metal. They eventually managed to shift it enough that I could wrestle my arm in and fit the key into an oddly shaped keyhole. 

The back of the mirror started glowing a pale green before cracking open, revealing a room barely large enough to fit Fake Dana. Tears welling up in my eyes, I did my best to extract her without causing her too much damage until she finally made it out to the other side.

“Friend,” I said. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you ! Thankfully Threeox helped, and there’s - look,” I continued, turning back to face my rescue team, forgetting it was only me and EXO now.

They were smiling, too, and they gestured at the stairs. I understood what they meant - out.

I turned to Fake Dana again, still somewhat relieved to see her dry her tears and gracefully get up without giving me the time to offer help. She smiled like nothing was wrong. I followed her up the stairs and into the hall, her naked feet sizzling and leaving angry red marks on the floor, probably due to the iron dust covering every inch of the place. EXO swung the the front door open, touching the iron pane with a quickly blistering hand, and as I looked at them more closely, I couldn’t help but mouth “Threeox”. 

“Oh shit, right, come here !” Fake Dana grabbed my face with both her hands, her palms wet with leftover tears and blood, the feel of them sending shivers down my spine. She spat in my eyes like she’d done before, and suddenly the night became less bright, her skin less pale, EXO’s features morphing into the face of my roommate, skin going from that red I’d been kinda surprised about, to the vibrant green that the cat warned me about. 

Toll, Bell and Eulogy were nowhere to be seen. I started wondering if I’d dreamed about them, if they were ever here at all. Their names had stuck in my mind and once again I wondered what mine was. I know Sizzle, my roommate, was quite upset before shoving me out of the room - which room was that again ? 17 ? 23 ? I forgot.

Fake Dana interrupted my thoughts with a light shove on my arm. “You can leave, now, you’ll remember who you are soon. It’s okay, it’s done.”

“What’s done ?” I tried to ask, but my eyelids suddenly became so heavy I had trouble keeping them open.

The last thing I heard were guttural sounds, so unlike Fake Dana’s voice, and a wet caress on my back.

I woke up on this train a few moments ago. I don’t know where it’s going, except from “Far away” and “Not where I came from”. My suitcase is filled with all my belongings, except the iron jewellery I acquired during my two years as Elsewhere U. And as I look at the landscape we are zapping by, I do not recognise the streets nor the trees.

The only thing keeping me from falling asleep again is the sticky red liquid pouring out of my nose, making me curse out loud as I scramble for a handkerchief. The blood stops flowing after a while, and I catch my reflection in the window across me.

I have several streaks of white hair, the contrast sharp with my otherwise dark brown ponytail. My eyes are bloodshot and I have blood caked on my face in the shape of hands. My skin is pale, my eyes gleam a quickly fading red.

I remember it now. My name is Dana.

x

[twdeadfanfic]

Bonded to you Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapter: 1/17

Summary:  Daryl and reader had a something while they both stayed at the Sanctuary after the Saviours were defeated, a secret sort of relationship, that reader wanted to make something more. However, after Rick blows the bridge, Daryl leaves her without a word, unaware of her being pregnant with his child and it’s not after almost two years that Daryl finds out he has a child…and his anger at reader for not having told him before, rivals with reader’s anger at having being tossed aside as nothing by him those to years ago.

Dad Daryl, cute fluffy baby-toddler moments, angsty reader relationship.

You can find more Daryl fics in my masterlist.

The warmth of a body next to yours as you woke up was not surprising anymore, but the fact that the warmth came from Daryl always was. You still couldn’t believe that he’d sleep next you night in night out, that you both were…well, you didn’t know what you might be, but still, you appreciated this level of intimacy.

You felt Daryl stir as he woke up, and you tightened your hold on him. He was sleeping curled up, the same way he slept almost every night, and your arm was around him. He turned onto his back, blinking his eyes open and looking at you, grunting quietly something you didn’t understand.

“Morning,” you greeted, smiling. Daryl just nodded, sitting up on the bed and reaching out for his boots. “You’ll be careful today, right?” You asked while he put on his boots, stroking the hair at the back of his head. He was leaving for a run, a big and important one, with lots of other people, to a museum in Atlanta. You knew how skillful he was, but still, you worried nonetheless.

Daryl nodded again, looking at you over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said, voice still raspy. He made to get up, but then he turned to look at you again, leaning to give your cheek a quick, soft peck, before he got up and walked out of your room.

You let out a sigh, covering your eyes with your arm. What were Daryl and you, you wondered…certainly not what you really wanted you both to be…but more than you had dared to hope for, even if you hadn’t been able to stop your daydreams.

You had been living in Alexandria when he arrived, and soon you had found yourself crushing on that quiet, dark, mysterious…and well, really handsome guy. You had overcome your shyness to try to get to know him, half hoping that maybe once you knew him better, it’d break your crush, but oh boy…hadn’t it been the opposite.

It had been difficult and more than once your advances hadn’t seemed too welcomed, but over time, Daryl and you had become friends, and you had won his trust. You had made sure to keep quiet about your crush, though, not wanting to lose his hard-earned trust, sure he wouldn’t return your feelings. At least, until Rick had sent him to the Sanctuary, that horrible place where he had been tortured, and you had known you needed to go with him.

Daryl’s mood hadn’t been the best in there…it still wasn’t, but it was better. He used to snap at everyone, he was always angry, but you also knew he was traumatized, you knew what he had gone through in there, and you hated how you couldn’t do anything to help.

He had snapped at you, once, when you had complained about being scared of the way some saviors looked at you, yelling at you that then maybe you should go back home and, asking why you had gone there in the first place, and to just take your stuff and leave. Now you knew he had been worried, but back then, you had been broken-hearted at his outburst, and trying not to cry you had babbled to him how you were there because you worried for him, because you didn’t want him to be alone in the place where he’d been tortured, and because you’d miss him if he was away.

Daryl had seemed taken aback and you had felt so embarrassed and awkward that you had run away and hid in your room. Later, though, he had gone to your room and had actually apologized for snapping and had even thanked you for being there for him. And you…well, having him talk softly to you, thanking you, looking at you with kindness…you couldn’t help yourself from maybe ruining the situation and confessing that you also were there because you liked him.

It didn’t seem you hadn’t ruined anything, though, Daryl didn’t snap, didn’t seem angry or awkward, even though he was silent, looking down. Anxiously, you had waited for him to say anything, but he didn’t, instead, he walked to you and sat down next to you on the bed, still silent.

You hadn’t known what to say, still nervous, but then Daryl had looked at you and leaned in. You had thought he was going to kiss you, but he hadn’t, instead he had rested his forehead on yours, and it was so sweet, all your nerves had melted away while butterflies danced in your belly…and then, when you had dared to kiss his lips softly and he had kissed back, your heart had gone crazy…

And there you were now…still unsure about what Daryl and you were.

You knew he cared about you, in his own way, he made sure you were alright, and he treated you with care and kindness…but something else, something more? You weren’t sure.

Daryl liked to be with you, and he looked for comfort in you, in that horrible place, you knew it. He looked for you, waited for you two to be alone so you’d kiss him and hug him, and talk to him, listen to him. He joined you in your bed most times, snuggling to you or curling up with you holding him. But you weren’t certain he loved you in the way you loved him, and he didn’t seem interested in having an actual relationship, or that’s how it seemed most of the time. You didn’t even know. Even in the very couple of times that you two had had sex, he’d still seemed to look more from comfort than anything else.

Not that you didn’t enjoy to hold him, comfort him, and take care of him, and in return, having him do the same for you. But you were in love with him, and you couldn’t help but wish to have more. If only you knew what Daryl wanted too, what were his feelings, what he thought of all these…you knew you both needed to talk about it, but you didn’t look forward to it, afraid of how it could go, and of it maybe meaning you’d lose whatever you had with Daryl, and it seemed he didn’t look forward to it either.

You let out a sigh. There was no time to wonder about all that now, there was always shit to do at the Sanctuary, and with Daryl out, you wanted to do as many tasks as possible, take work off his already too heavy shoulders before he came back.

*

It was late in the day when Daryl came back, but not only him, also Rick, Michonne, Carol, the King, and some others…and looking at their faces and at how Daryl snapped at everyone, something bad must have happened. While Rick was giving one of those speeches of him, you quietly slipped close to Daryl, placing a hand on his arm and startling him until he realized it was you.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

“We lost a kid, from Hilltop,” Daryl rasped back, and you knew he was sad and upset, you could notice it, even if he was trying to contain it. You wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to comfort him, but you two didn’t show that kind of physical affection in front of people, and you still weren’t sure if Daryl didn’t want people to know that you two had…whatever you two had.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his arm, your fingers lingering on his skin for a little longer than necessary, and he didn’t say anything else.

You were glad to see your old friends, you barely got to see them anymore now, but everything was tense and awkward after everything that had happened and at the Sanctuary situation, and so soon after dinner, you excused yourself and went to bed.

You waited for Daryl, he usually joined you, and you thought he needed some comfort after what had happened today, but you waited and waited and he didn’t, even when everything went silent around you. Any other night, you might have let him be, but you didn’t want him to be alone when you knew he was upset after a death like that and so you got up, and went looking for him.

As you had done some other times, you found him tinkering with a bike in the garage, doing you didn’t know what. He looked at you when the door opened, relaxing when he saw it was you, focusing back on the bike. You walked behind him and reached up to place your hands on his shoulders, rubbing.

“Are you okay?”

“You ask me that when we just lost a kid,” Daryl snapped and you muttered a sorry, but he looked at you, seeming to regret it, and he leaned to kiss you cheek. You slide your hands from his shoulders down his back, wrapping your arms around his middle, hugging him.

“Come to bed with me,” you whispered. “Please?” Daryl seemed hesitant, but finally he nodded and you held his hand, walking him to your bedroom.

Once there, you pushed him to lie down on the bed and you sat down straddling his hips. You looked at his face illuminated by the candlelight, running your fingers over his cheek, thinking once again how unfair it was that he always looked so handsome. Daryl nuzzled into your touch and you couldn’t help your smile.

“Maggie, she can’t be having-” he began, but you shushed him pressing a finger to his lips.

“No, stop.” You thought Daryl would snap, but he didn’t, not even when you removed your finger from his lips, and you traced his face with it softly. “Don’t think about that now. Just for a few hours. You need to sleep.” He slept too little, and you worried.

Daryl just hummed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again, and you had the feeling his mind wasn’t going to shut down easily that night. You brought your hands to his chest and hesitantly, you toyed with the buttons of his shirt, waiting for Daryl’s reaction. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push you or stopped you when you began opening the buttons.

You ran your hands over the skin of his belly, up to his chest, looking at him, still unsure about him being on board with this. You leaned over him, kissing his lips softly before whispering into his ear, “Is this okay?” Instead of answering, Daryl sat up with you still on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh when Daryl nuzzled into your neck, holding you tight. You thought you would never get used to it, to how tight he held you, the way he liked to snuggle, to be held, things you hadn’t really expected from him, not until you knew him alone like that.

You pushed his shirt off him, brushing one of your hands up his back, stroking warm skin and old scars, humming when he began placing soft kisses across your neck, his hand running under your own shirt…

*

Later that night, you were snuggled to Daryl’s chest, and you had almost fallen asleep when you heard him speak. “I told Rick I want to leave.”

It was no surprise, you knew how much Daryl hated it in here, what was surprising was why he had said yes to come here in the first place, but you knew he was always trying to help. “And what did he say?”

“Doesn’t want me to, said he ain’t got no one else to spare and sent here, or else wants me to help in Alexandria,” Daryl scoffed…yeah, you knew well why neither him nor Maggie would step in Alexandria.

“He can’t force you to stay here,” you said, looking up from Daryl’s chest. Rick might lead Alexandria, but he couldn’t force Daryl to do something he didn’t want, or you, or anyone else. “If you want to leave, then you should.”

“Yeah? Who’s gonna keep this shit place going then? Ain’t like Rostia and Eugine are here ‘cause they like it either, I go, bet they go too…”

“It’s Rick’s who wants to help this place, hence is problem. Not yours,” you said, and Daryl just hummed. You knew he wouldn’t do something that could damage his friends, though, and so you knew he’d stay, no matter what, and who knew what could happen if you left the saviors on his own again.

“Place’s gonna fall down sooner or later anyway, no matter shit what I do…” He murmured and you took his hand, kissing his knuckles before placing his arm around you and snuggling onto his chest again, caressing his skin gently, you didn’t know what else you could say that could help him, so you hope you could at least bring him some comfort.

Soon, though, you felt Daryl growing restless under you, and then he was carefully shifting you to lie on the pillow. You groaned, opening your sleepy eyes and reaching for him. “Where you going?”

“Smoke,” he rasped. “Sleep.”

You hummed, hugging the pillow to you and letting out a sigh before falling asleep…you didn’t feel like you were making a good job helping Daryl ease his worries that night…

*

You woke when you felt Daryl getting into the bed again. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you had slept for a long while, and the candles were already off, though for some reason Daryl was lighting them again to illuminate the room. “Took you long enough…” you murmured sleepily, curling up with your back to Daryl so the light of the candles wouldn’t bother you, to try and fall asleep again, but it seemed Daryl had other plans.

“Y/N,” he called quietly, running his fingers through your hair before pulling at you gently to make you roll and look at him. “Hey.”

“What?” You frowned, confused, as you blinked your eyes open.

“I was with Carol, she heard me speaking with Rick. Said she’s gonna stay here, take over the place for me, won’t let me say not.”

“Yeah?” You were sure that Rick would trust Carol to keep the Sanctuary in line. “That’s good.” You reached out to caress Daryl’s cheek, you knew how unhappy he was there, how much he wanted to leave.

“Hhmm hmm.” He nodded. “I’ll leave tomorrow to Hilltop.”

So he’d leave tomorrow…and you? You had gone to the Sanctuary only because of Daryl, you had no business in there, neither you cared for the place. You wanted to be wherever he was, with him. But what did Daryl want? He wasn’t saying anything…

Insecurity crept on you, as so often it did, you couldn’t help it. Yes, you knew you two weren’t a couple, that you two weren’t really together, but still…you slept next to each other, held each other, almost every night. You were there for him when he needed it, and he’d been there for you. Did that mean nothing? He would just leave you there without a second thought? You wanted to know what he thought about the whole thing.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.” Daryl shrugged without looking at you, doing nothing to ease your insecurities.

“But what you want me to do.” You insisted, more nervous than what you’d realized.

“You gotta do whatever you want.” He was still not looking at you, and it was rubbing you the wrong way.

“Daryl, I’m asking, answer me, what do you want me to do?” You shifted to sit in front of him, trying to get him to look at you, and he did glare at you.

“You want me ordering you around now like I’m your boss?” He scoffed, and insecure or not, you were starting to feel agitated.

“No, Daryl, I’m not saying that, I’m asking you, what do you want me to do!” You snapped.

“And I’m telling you, you do whatever the hell you want!” Daryl snapped back, getting on your nerves.

“Whatever the hell I want, okay, okay, sure…” You kicked the sheet off you, frustrated, and got up, trying to stop all those feelings, all those voices in your head that were making you feel awful, telling you that Daryl didn’t give a shit about what you might do, about not seeing you again. “Could go to Oceanside and sunbathe on the beach, why the hell not…what do I want? I want not to be in this shit place!”

“Then what are you doing here?” Daryl snapped again and you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve as you felt just angrier, your heart filling with sorrow.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

“I never asked you to come!”

“Oh, I know, I do know…” You nodded, turning away from him as you suddenly felt like crying. “You didn’t care what I did, I understand. I was no one.” You had been a friend, sure, but he had better friends. You had just been another Alexandrian. “But I thought things were different now. That you and I…” You shook your head without finishing your sentence. You had been so stupid, thinking Daryl might feel something for you, something else, something more… “But you don’t care, you’d leave and you wouldn’t care about what I do or if we don’t see each other again.”

“You know it ain’t like that…” Daryl murmured but you just scoffed, rubbing your eyes.

“You won’t give a shit what I do.” That was all you knew, all you felt, at that moment.

Daryl didn’t say anything, and you tried to get a hold of you, take control of your emotions. You were about to just leave the room when you heard Daryl letting out a long sigh and getting up from the bed, but you couldn’t look at him. Then you felt his arms around you, pulling you to him until his chest was against you back, his chin on your shoulder. “You know I’m thankful you came with me,” he murmured. “You know I give a shit,” he pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to your shoulder and you wondered if you knew. You guessed you did, but sometimes it was hard.

You turned on his arms to look at him. “Would you care if you leave and I stay here, or if I go to Alexandria or somewhere else where you aren’t?” You asked, voice small and tight. “Would you even miss me?” You forced yourself to ask, even if it made you feel embarrassed, shy, and stupid.

“’course I’d miss you,” Daryl whispered.

“Really? Don’t say it just because…” You couldn’t help but feel insecure, feel as if he might be saying it just so you would stop making a scene, but Daryl nodded, looking at you, eyes sincere.  “Okay…” you whispered, giving him a small, sad smile, insecure still.

“But you don’t gotta do shit just because of me. You didn’t have to come to this shit place just ‘cause of me. Don’t have to go anywhere just ‘cause me,” he said, still sounding sincere, and you shook your head, smiling sadly again.

“I know. But I want to…’cause…” Because you loved him, but you weren’t going to say that. “’Cause I like to be with you…and because I care for you…” You shrugged, biting your lip.

“You know I care for you too…” Daryl murmured, taking you by surprise when he leaned to hold his forehead on yours, you couldn’t help but melt whenever he did that, no matter what. “I like to be with you too…” he whispered.

Daryl had said that he’d miss you…that he cared for you, liked to be with you. It was more than you had gotten from him in your time together, even if he showed you that he cared in his way, showed you that he might enjoy your time together, it wasn’t the same reassurance as hearing it. You were sure you’d never stop feeling insecure, you knew you’d never stop feeling that twinge in your heart at his feelings not being the same as yours, you knew that you’d never stop wondering when might be the day he’d decide to move on from you. But you would take whatever he wanted to give you. You would enjoy whatever you had, while it lasted.

You cupped his cheeks to lift his head and look at him. “I want to go to Hilltop with you,” you said quietly and Daryl nodded, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile. “Because I don’t want to be here. But also because I want to still be where you are…wherever that is.”

You felt shy again, embarrassed and a bit like an idiot too, saying something like that, and before Daryl could say anything, you kissed him, afraid of what he might say. He pulled you even closer as he kissed you back in that way he did sometimes that always managed to make you forget all your insecurities, worries, and fears for a while.

Eventually, you pulled back, taking his hand to guide you both back to bed. “Didn’t mean to make you upset,” Daryl murmured as he leaned over you on the bed, running his hand through your hair, looking at you in that soft way, as if he always knew what to do to make you melt, even if you knew he didn’t realize it.

“I know…I’m sorry…I just…” You shrugged, helplessly. You didn’t know how to explain it to him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologized too. “I didn’t mean to…to make you feel that way…just…” He seemed helpless too and you placed your finger over his lips. You wanted you both to stop apologizing. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, afraid that all your insecurities would creep right back in…and when Daryl looked at you in that way he did, you just couldn’t stop yourself from believing him when he said he cared, when he said he liked to be with you…you couldn’t help but love him like you did, even if it hurt too.

You removed your finger from his lips, instead running it across his cheek. “I know how you can make it up to me…” You murmured, pulling him closer again to kiss his lips, glad when you felt him smiling as he kissed you back.

*

First chapter of my new long series! I know, not baby yet, but first I had to get the girl pregnant, haha.

If you liked this and have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in a comment. Your comments, likes and reblogs inspire me to keep going when Iike giving up!

I want to give a special thanks to @ddixons-angel​ for listening to me when I got stuck writing this and helping me see reader’s side of things when I’m always too much in Daryl’s mind, and for giving me advice and not complaining when I end up doing whatever I want anyway.

As always, excuse my english, is not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[vasiktomis]

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

[el-gilliath]

Can prompt a sex pollen fic for Malex? I feel there are not enough of those.

Yeah this turned weirdly fluffy for me, but I still managed a bit of my angst. Can be read as a sequel to Could’ve Had a Family since it does reference the truth serum in it. And since I got this ages ago, well I hope you read and like nonnie.

(I should also probably warn for a tiny bit of praise kink in case you do not like, as well as thoughts of temprature and silk rope play.)

He knows something is wrong the minute Alex walks into the lab. Not because it’s Alex, not because their tentative something has gone pearshaped again, but because a heat rises through him so quickly that he shudders, his hands tingling with the want to touch him, his dick filling without any incentive.

Not that just seeing Alex isn’t enough, god knows he’s gotten rock hard at the sight of him before, but he knows that the rising heat and tingling hands is new. Well. Not new, no signal of lust and want is ever new when it comes to Alex. Just sudden in a way he hasn’t felt before.

He glances over at Liz and the broken vial on the floor. Great, probably infected with something. Again.

“You okay? Something set off an alarm so I thought I’d come check on you,” Alex says. He has a small smile on his face, yet he’s alert enough that Michael would usually know that he’s worried. The fact that he’s in fatigues is also something, he must’ve driven straight over from the base.

He knows Liz is answering, blaming her own clumsiness to whatever alarm must’ve gone off, pointing at the broken vial on the floor as she sheepishly apologizes to Alex for coming all the way from base.

Michael doesn’t actually hear her, he just knows her routine and methods of apologizing by now after working together in the lab for a long time. She’ll apologize if she’s done something wrong, grumble if she’s sorry yet annoyed, ramble in Spanish if it really wasn’t her fault.

This one was definitely her fault so she’ll be apologizing. But all Michael can think about is how damned good Alex looks in his uniform. And that should be point number one, because Michael has enough issues with the Air Force that even if the uniform is aesthetically pleasing on Alex he’s never found it mouth watering. Not like he does now, the heat in him intensifying by the thought of getting on his knees in front of Alex and getting his pants open and just low enough that he can get his mouth on his dick, get it just wet enough that Michael can push him down onto a chair and get that dick inside of him.

He recognizes the fact that he’s starting to sweat, his telekinesis pushing just beneath is skin to get everything and everyone where he wants it. Tendrils of his power escapes him before he even follows his own train of thought, caressing up against Alex in ways part of him knows he would never do if he was fully in control, his fingers moving slightly with the urge to touch skin on skin instead of telepathy on aura. Alex’s eyes cut sharply to his, his brow furrowing slightly. He’s felt Michael’s telekinesis against his skin before, It would be more surprising if he didn’t react to it.

“Mikey, you okay?” Liz asks. He’s sure she knows something is up when he hums instead of objecting to the nickname. “Okay, you definitely got affected by that.”

“Again,” Alex replies, lifting one eyebrow when Liz glares at him. “You know I’m right.”

Liz grumbles but ultimately nods. The last time something from the lab caused unforseen consequences, she was at the helm too.

“It’s... it’s not the same,” Michael stutters out. “No truth, just... hot.”

“Hot how?” Liz asks, her scientist brain already back in full force. Michael wants to be there with her, but all he can think of is Alex and how damned good he looks. They’re not a couple, not yet, though they have been working towards it, hanging out, dating, building a foundation as friends. That have kissed, a time or two. Maybe ten.

“I want to suck Alex’s dick right now and I don’t care that you’re here.”

“Oh. That kind of hot.”

Liz’s eyes are wide open and flickering between Alex and him, while Alex looks at him with unconcealed interest. Though the interest isn’t quite sexual, it’s mostly curiosity.

“You made sex pollen?” Alex asks, turning to Liz. “First a truth serum, and now sex pollen. Only you, Ortecho.”

Liz rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Michael shudders, the tight control he has of his powers slipping just a little to brush up again Alex more firmly than before, firmly enough that Alex clears his throat.

“Okay, Liz I think you need to leave if you don’t want to witness anything.“

Liz opens her mouth to protest, but a whine from Michael makes her mouth clamp shut again. She nods, more to herself than anything as she gathers her stuff and walks to the door.

“Mikey... Are you sure you want this?“ She asks, just as she’s about to walk out the door. Michael tears his gaze from Alex, gripping the reins of his control tight as he wraps it around Liz in a hug like motion he’s done a fair few times before in an effort to show the affection he has for their friendship when he can’t bare to be touched. She reacts the way she always does, her head leaning into it enough that he feels the push of returned affection.

“It’s Alex,“ he replies as if it explains everything. And to Liz it probably does, she knows everything now.

“Okay. Don’t break the lab,“ she says, smiling back at him. “And don’t break Mikey.“

Michael loses the plot slightly after that, his eyes finding Alex again, his telekinesis wrapping around him tenderly. He doesn’t pay attention to the short conversation Alex and Liz have, nor does he pay attention when Liz finally leaves. He only pays attention to watching Alex’s strong hands, the way his pants fit him perfectly and emphasises his strong thighs. He looks into the eyes of the man he’s loved since he was 17, the rush of heat mixing with the ever present want to stand by Alex’s side for the rest of his life.

“I love you,“ he bluts out, for a moment not second guessing himself. “I want to be by your side forever, in our house with our dogs. I want to have kids with you.“

The most beautiful smile Michael has ever seen slips onto Alex’s face as he walks closer. He doesn’t stop until he’s close enough for Michael to touch with hands as well as powers. And he does, powerless to stop himself he tugs Alex even closer and burries his face in his neck, a moan escaping him at the pure scent of Alex, the scent of grass, dust and leather clinging to him the way it always does.

“I love you too,“ Alex whispers in his ear, as he brushes a soft kiss to Michael’s cheek. “I’d get a white picket fence with you any day. Though maybe we should take care of you first, that okay with you?“

Michael shudders as Alex’s hand slip into the front of his jeans to cup his dick.

“You can back out at any time if you don’t want me to touch you.“

Michael huffs. “You’re the only touch I can always handle. Please, Alex.“

Alex hums, opening Michael’s belt and jeans to give himself more room. “Okay. Be a good boy for me and come as soon as you want. I want to feel you come in my hand.”

Michael already feels on edge enough that the first actual touch to his dick almost makes his knees buckle. Alex’s hand is as sure as it ever is, gripping him exactly the way he wants, setting a pace both of them know well from their clandestine meetings over the years. It’s designed to get Michael off as quick as possible but unlike the previous times Michael knows this is to see if this’ll make whatever’s influencing him to stop working. He knows Alex wants him, and any doubts he might have won’t be allowed to ruin this.

“You’re such a good boy, Michael, come for me so we can go home and do this properly,“ Alex whispers, his teeth tugging at Michael’s earlobe as he twists his hand. “Let me lay you down on my bed and play with you, just the way I know you like.“

Michael’s mind pictures being tied to Alex’s bed with silk ropes, soft against his wrists as Alex runs slips of silk over his entire body, playing with ice cubes over his hot body until he shudders and comes hard. He doesn’t last long after that, his orgasm ripping out of his with a strangled should just as Alex runs his finger nail lightly over the head of his dick.

He pants as he feels the heat recede just enough for his telekinesis to finally completely respond to his control again. He lifts his head from Alex’s neck, smiling when he meets Alex’s eyes.

“Take me home, Alex.“