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willowbelle · 2 months

Text

Hunger

luffy & jealousy + possessiveness

per this request from my 500 follower event!

❤︎ luffy x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: jealousy, infatuation, breast play, oral (f receiving), first-time-sex, wall-sex, messy sex, possessive sex, use of “say you’re mine”, fluff.

summary: luffy is confused about his emotions, therapist/mother robin to the rescue, luffy is jealous of seeing reader with someone else, luffy confesses his love for reader, reader is a bit of a tease, luffy is a bit of a softdom, luffy is silly, fluff, possessive sex ensues.

word count: ~5,000

tagging: @luckycheesecakeangel @missmugiwara @bby-deerling @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff

Hunger

Luffy is a force to be reckoned with.

A dream-driven man with a stong heart and big goals.

The strawhat captain seems to always possess an infectiously optimistic and cheerful demeanor, seemingly boundless in its exuberance.

And yet, something seemed to shift in Luffy when you joined his crew.

Something foreign stirred within the rubber man’s heart at the sight of you with someone else.

His once unwavering buoyant spirit falters, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. His demeanor, once brimming with optimism, now bore traces of insecurity and envy, casting an unusual shadow over his usual vibrant presence.

----

As he sits alone on the deck of The Sunny, his gaze lifts towards you nestled in the crow's nest alongside Usopp, sharing laughter and conversation as you peer through the telescope onto the open sea.

A knot begins to tighten in his stomach, a feeling he’s never experienced before. It’s a surge of conflicting emotions—longing mingled with frustration, desire tempered by insecurity. He can’t quite place it; it’s alien, unsettling, and leaves him feeling confused and frustrated by its elusivity.

He balls his fists, shuts his eyes tightly and wrinkles his nose before letting out a frustrated sigh. What was happening to him? He’s going to be the King of the Pirates, he can’t be held back by something he doesn’t even understand.

This uncharted territory challenges Luffy. He’s always been fearless, plunging himself into uncertain situations without a second thought; blinding following his heart as he charges through predicaments with a wide smile and laughter as his battle cry. His courage knows no bounds, once he sets his mind to something, he'll stop at nothing to achieve it.

Yet, in this moment of solitude on the deck, he finds himself grappling with an emotion entirely alien to him. Despite his typical determination to conquer any challenge, this unfamiliar tide of jealousy erodes his confidence, tickles his skin and buries its way into his conscience, leaving him exposed and adrift in uncertainty.

----

Robin is quiet in her approach, slipping beside the captain completely unnoticed as his eyes are still screwed shut, internally wrestling with his emotions.

“Luffy,” the tall woman says quietly, placing a gentle hand on her captain’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Luffy's eyes flicker open at the touch of Robin's hand on his shoulder, surprise evident in his expression as he turns to look at her. He finds solace in her motherly presence, her calm demeanor a soothing contrast to the turmoil raging within him.

For once, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I- I don't know, Robin. Something feels off. Never felt like this before."

Robin's gaze softens, her understanding evident as she meets his eyes. "Emotions can be complex, Luffy. Even the strongest of us struggle with them from time to time." She rubs soothing circles into his shoulder as she speaks, “Can you describe what you’ve been feeling?”

Luffy lets out a long exhale, his shoulders relaxing under Robin's soothing touch.

"It's like... there's this tight knot in my chest," he begins, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, "I've always charged into things without thinking too much, but now... it's different. There's this feeling of... of wanting something I can't have, and it's driving me crazy."

"Are you thinking about something or someone in particular?" Robin inquires, sensing the shift in his persona.

Luffy's gaze shifts, his expression reflecting a mix of hesitation and vulnerability. "Yeah... I'm thinking about her," he confesses, eyes darting upwards to you in the crow’s nest, his voice barely above a whisper.

Robin hums and nods understandingly, her eyes empathetic as she waits for him to continue.

"She's always been there, you know?" Luffy continues, his voice gaining strength with each word. "But seeing her up there with Usopp... it's like a punch to the gut. What does that mean, Robin?"

The tall woman chuckles warmly, impressed by her captain’s vulnerability.

“I think you’re jealous, captain,” she speaks kindly, but there’s a hint of amusement evident in her tone.

"Jealous?" the rubber man questions.

"It’s a natural emotion that arises when we feel threatened by the possibility of losing something or someone we care about to someone else." she begins, "It can stem from a fear of being replaced or left behind, or from a deep-rooted desire to possess what we perceive as rightfully ours," Robin elaborates, her tone patient and empathetic.

Luffy reacts with immediate defiance, as is his custom, shaking his head adamantly in denial.

"Me? Jealous? Pfft, no way!" he retorts, his stubbornness evident in his refusal to accept her diagnosis.

Robin offers a knowing smile, recognizing Luffy's typical reluctance to acknowledge his vulnerabilities.

"Luffy, it's okay to feel jealous," she reassures him, her voice gentle yet firm. "It's a natural part of being human. It’s completely normal to feel this way, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. It doesn't make you any less strong or brave."

Luffy grumbles under his breath, still reluctant to admit to himself that he's experiencing such a seemingly weak emotion.

"But think about it, Luffy," Robin continues, her tone encouraging. "Jealousy shows that you care deeply about this person, that they mean a lot to you. It's a sign of the strength of your feelings."

Luffy's expression softens as he considers Robin's words, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Maybe you're right, Robin," he admits reluctantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But what do I do about it?"

"Well, first, you acknowledge your feelings," she advises, "Then, you talk about them, like you're doing now.”

Determination has found him again, and Luffy rises from the deck, courage etched into every line of his expression. He turns to Robin, his eyes alight with determination.

"I'm going to talk to her!" he declares, his voice ringing with a familiar conviction.

Robin smiles, her pride evident as she nods in approval. "I'm proud of you, Luffy. Remember, honesty and sincerity will always guide you."

----

With those words echoing in his mind, Luffy sets off across the deck, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he approaches the crow’s, his nerves threaten to overwhelm him, but he pushes them aside, focusing on the goal ahead, like he always does.

Luffy ascends the steps to the crow's nest with a determined stride, his heart beating a steady rhythm of courage. As he reaches the top, he finds you and Usopp engrossed in conversation, your laughter mingling with the gentle breeze.

"Hey, Luffy!" Usopp greets him with a wide grin, but Luffy's focus remains on you.

"I need to talk to you!" Luffy blurts out.

You look up at your captain, surprise flickering across your features at his sudden request.

"Sure, Luffy! What's on your mind?"

“J-Just come with me!” the strawhat captain stammers.

You exchange a curious glance with Usopp before nodding, intrigued by Luffy's urgency. Following him down from the crow's nest, you make your way to his quarters so you can talk in private.

"What's going on, Luffy?" you ask, concern knitting your brow as you take in the seriousness etched into his expression.

But instead of answering, he simply rushes forwards, abruptly pressing you against the wall and immediately closing the distance by crashing his lips onto yours.

“Mm!” you let out a surprised whimper as your captain’s lips roughly meet yours.

Caught completely off guard by Luffy's sudden and bold move, you freeze for a moment, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. His lips against yours ignite a fire within you, stirring feelings you never knew existed.

As his kiss deepens, you find yourself responding instinctively, melting into the warmth of his embrace. His lips are rough and chapped but you don’t care, you just want this to continue. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the beat of his heart echoing in sync with your own.

When Luffy finally pulls back, his eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I just... I had to do that."

But before he can say more, you reach out and gently cup his face in your hands, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Luffy, it's okay," you reassure him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time too."

Relief floods over Luffy's features, his eyes sparkling with joy as he realizes that his feelings are reciprocated. Without another word, he pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if never wanting to let go.

“What finally made you do it, Luffy?” you whisper softly, the inquiry warm against his neck.

Luffy pulls back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of bashfulness and determination.

"I couldn't hold it in any longer," your captain admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you up there in the crow's nest, laughing and talking with Usopp... I realized how much you mean to me. I didn't want to waste any more time pretending that I didn't feel this way."

Your heart swells at his confession, the warmth of his words enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

"I'm glad you didn't," you reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I've been wanting to kiss you for so long."

A grin spreads across Luffy's face, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Me too," he admits, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more.

“So captain,” you whisper sensually into his mouth, running a finger down his scarred chest, “You were jealous?”

Luffy’s breath hitches in his throat at your advancement; the feeling of your fingertip gliding down his body makes his skin tingle with something new. It’s exhilarating, arousing.

“Y-Yes, y/n,” your captain stammers, his voice uncharacteristically shy, “I was so jealous..”

“Mmm,” you hum softly, eyes blown with lust as you gaze up at him, “Why don’t you show me just how jealous you were?”

Luffy's breath catches in his throat at your sultry suggestion, his heart pounding with desire as he meets your gaze, filled with a hunger that mirrors his own.

Without a word, he leans in closer, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within both of you. His hands roam eagerly over your body, tracing every curve and eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

His kiss is primal, not practiced; he’s simply acting on instinct, letting human nature take the reigns.

“Oh, Luffy,” you whimper into his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle your fingers in his mess of dark hair.

As the heat between you intensifies, Luffy's passion burns bright, fueled by the jealousy that had consumed him moments before.

Luffy's hands explore your body with an eagerness that sends shivers down your spine. Each touch, each caress, is fueled by a primal desire to claim you as his own, to show you just how fiercely he wants you.

His movements are hurried and clumsy, he’s clearly out of his element, but you couldn’t care less, you just want his hands on you, regardless of how haphazardly they behave.

His hands roam hungrily over your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he pulls you closer.

“Y/n,” the captain rasps into your mouth, “Need you”

You shiver at the rasp of his voice against your lips, the urgency in his touch igniting something fierce within you.

“Then take me, Captain,”

Your words hang in the air, charged with desire and anticipation, as you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity. In that moment, there's no hesitation, no doubt.

With a primal growl of need, he crushes his chapped lips to yours once more, his touch becoming more urgent, more desperate as he pulls you closer.

His calloused hands travel up your torso to grasp your breasts through your shirt, making you let out a whimper at the sensation. He’s rough, not thinking twice as he lets his yearning speak for him; undeniably Luffy.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you give yourself over completely to him, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of his touch and the overwhelming emotions that consume you both.

You let your eyes roll back as Luffy presses you harder into the wall, the grip he has on your breasts never faltering as he haphazardly snakes his tongue into your mouth.

“Mm, L-Luffy-” you whine, letting your captain have his way with you.

“All mine,” he groans into your open mouth, “You’re all mine.”

A playful smirk curves your lips as you pull back just slightly, teasing him with your proximity.

You know your captain can’t ignore a challenge.

“Prove it,” you whisper sensually.

Without a word, he responds with actions rather than words, his hands moving with purpose as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch is possessive, claiming you as his own with each caress, each tender stroke.

You gasp at the intensity of his touch, your body arching into his as he keeps you pressed firmly against the wall.

An amused chuckle rumbles out of his chest as your body melts to his touch.

He continues down your neck, speaking into your skin in between kisses,

"You like that, don't 'cha?"

His kisses are rough and quick, but they leave your skin goosebump-ridden and undeniably needy, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips as he trails down to your chest.

"Off, off," the captain whines eagerly, his hands tugging impatiently at the hem of your shirt. His urgency sparks a giggle from you, and you oblige his needy request, slowly peeling the garment from your body, revealing the bare expanse of your skin underneath.

As the fabric falls away, his eyes widen, drinking in the sight before him with unabashed hunger.

With your shirt removed, you feel a rush of exhilaration, basking in the raw desire reflected in Luffy's eyes. You shyly turn your head, blood rushing to your face as his gaze roams hungrily over your exposed skin, his breath growing heavier with each passing moment.

“W-Woah!” he exclaims, astonished, “You look so beautiful!”

Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips trailing a path of fire along your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitches at the sensation, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

He’s hot to the touch and his breath is no different, sending a rush of heat down to find its home in your core.

Your legs suddenly feel weak, threatening to give out beneath you at the intensity of the situation; Luffy’s hands exploring your body, his rough lips against your skin. It's magnificent, allconsuming.

“Luffy,” you whimper, desperate for more stimulation.

The strawhat captain chuckles warmly against your skin, pleased at your desperation.

“Ya must really want me, huh?” he teases, sinking to his knees in front of you.

You playfully swat at the top of his head as he assumes his new position.

“Oh shush,” you tease, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch Luffy bite at the waistband of your skirt.

As Luffy kneels before you, a mischievous glint dances in his eyes, his fingers deftly working at the waistband of your skirt. With a playful tug, he begins to slide the fabric down your legs, his movements slow and deliberate as he reveals more of your trembling form.

As the fabric finally pools at your feet, you stand before him completely exposed, your skin flushed with arousal and anticipation. Luffy's gaze roams unapologetically over your body, his expression one of pure hunger as he takes in the sight.

To your astonishment, you could just make out the faint hint of drool pooling at the corners of his lips.

Without a word, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he presses his lips to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urge him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

In this moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint—only the overwhelming need to lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch, to surrender completely to his advancements.

As Luffy's lips trail higher along your inner thigh, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, your breath hitching with each tender kiss. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body and leaving you yearning for more.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he rasps quietly against your flesh.

You feel a surge of heat pooling in your core, aching to be released, as Luffy's warm breath fans against your skin. With each passing moment, the intensity of the sensation builds, drawing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers threading through his hair as you guide him ever closer to the source of your desire.

“P-Please, Captain,” you whine.

And when his lips finally meet your clothed slit, you let out a soft cry of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

He immediately hooks a finger beneath your panties, unable to resist any longer, he tugs the fabric aside, revealing your soaking cunt.

He lets out a pleased sigh, pupils growing wide with hunger at the heavenly sight.

His tongue meets your slit immediately, not even waiting a second before it starts hungrily slipping up and down your aching sex.

“Mm, L-Luffy!” you stammer, letting out a weak cry of pleasure.

Luffy's ministrations are relentless, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling further into the depths of pleasure.

He lets out a hearty moan into your cunt as he continues his efforts,

“Damn, you taste so delicious, y/n.”

As Luffy’s tongue continues to trace patterns of pure bliss, you begin to lose your composure, breathing growing heavy as you seem to melt into the wall you’re pressed against.

With a primal growl of ravenousness, Luffy takes your thigh in his hand, his touch both firm and gentle as he raises your leg to rest it upon his strong shoulder. The new position grants him even greater access to his feast, allowing him to delve deeper into your most intimate depths.

“O-Oh, Captain-!” you moan shakily, engrossed with the feeling of his hot tongue meeting new parts of your pussy.

He's messy and uncoordinated, slobbering all over your cunt as he devours it feverishly.

Your breaths come in quick, shallow gasps, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of your arousal. Your cheeks flush with warmth, the heat of your pleasure painting your face in crimson. Your skin feels feverish under Luffy’s tongue, each flick igniting a blaze of euphoria that spreads through your body and leaves you trembling.

His movemenrts are undeniably sloppy, but beneath the messiness, there’s an unmistakable underbelly of desperation, hunger, longing.

With each passing moment, the intensity of the pleasure builds, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

“L-Luffy,” you huff weakly, “I-I’m close-”

The rubber man doubles his efforts, flicking his tongue more feverishly now, latching onto your clit and sucking hard at the aching nub.

"Mmm, y/n-"

In an instant, you’re gushing onto his tongue, making him groan heartily as he laps up all of your essence.

You bask in the glow of your pleasure, legs trembling as you struggle to stand, face flushed hot with the intensity of your oirgasm.

Luffy's laughter rings out, a joyful sound that fills the air as he rises from his knees, his eyes sparkling with both pleasure and amusement.

“That was so fun!”

With a playful grin, he leans in, capturing your gasping mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

“Wanna have more fun with ya,” the captain smirks.

His urgency makes you giggle, blush decorating your cheeks. With a playful grin of your own, you nod eagerly, your heart pounding with anticipation.

“I want you so badly, Luffy,” you nip at his neck.

He wastes no time in tugging his pants down as his tongue dances with yours, his cock springing free and hitting against his toned abdomen with a lewd smack.

He chuckles into your mouth at the sensation, amused by his own arousal.

His desisres and primal and raw, and he can’t shake his unwavering desire to be inside you.

In an instant, Luffy lifts you effortlessly into his arms, pressing you against the wall with a new sense of urgency. Your heart races as you feel his powerful muscles flexing beneath you, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“L-Luffy-”

You gasp at the suddenness of his movement, your body tingling with anticipation as he holds you close, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of passion. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“W-Wanna be in you,” he rasps into the dip of your neck, his breath hot against your flesh, “Wanna show you you’re all mine.”

As you’re suspended against the wall in his arms, he brings a hand down to grasp his needy cock, moving forwards to begin rubbing it against your weeping slit, the friction making you whimper with need.

As Luffy continues to rub himself against your slick folds, the intensity of the sensation builds; each movement sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you gasping and whimpering with need.

“Luffy,” you whine, “Please, fuck me-”

Your captain chuckles at your desperation, continuing his efforts as he groans softly into your collarbone.

“You’re so warm,” he sighs shakily, “Gonna squeeze me so tight.”

Your skin tingles with anticipation as you feel him pressing against you, his cock hard and eager against your aching core.

His tip meets your entrance with a precautionary nudge, and he glaces up at you, a wide smile decorating his face.

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation and a hint of mischief.

“Yes, Luffy,” you whimper, your voice laden with need, “Please-”

And with that, Luffy presses forward, his cock sliding effortlessly into your slick heat. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him filling you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

“O-Oh, captain!” you moan, letting your eyes roll back in your skull as he stuffs you full.

He groans heartily as he buries himself deep inside your tight heat, pressing you harder into the wall as he finally bottoms out.

“Damnit,” he rasps, slurring his words as pleasure consumes him, “S-So tight-never felt this before-”

His admission sends a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, knowing that you are the one who has ignited this newfound passion within him.

Soon enough, he’s pulling his hips back to thrust into you, completely driven by instinct.

With each thrust, he drives deeper, his movements becoming more urgent and intense. You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his muscular back as you cry out in pleasure.

His thrusts are feverish and uncoordinated, but the way his tip kisses your cervix has you seeing stars, and you simply can’t get enough.

“Luffy-!" you whine, “F-Fuck-”

As he continues to move inside you, his groans of pleasure fill the air, mingling with your own cries of ecstasy.

You can feel him trembling with pleasure, his body pressed against yours as he loses himself in the intoxicating sensation of being engulfed in you.

"Y/n," he groans, his voice shaky and raspy, the intensity of his desire evident in every word. "Say it," he grits his teeth as he speaks, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment. "Say you're mine."

Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is hazy as Luffy continues pounding into you, filling you with only visions of him and his brutal thrusts.

“I-I’m yours, Luffy-!” you whine, your voice becoming hoarse, “I’m all yours-!”

"Good," the rubber man chuckles, a wide, toothy grin tugging at his lips as he revels in your admission, "That's what I want to hear."

He leans forward, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck as he continues to drive into you with increasing fervor. Each thrust is more forceful than the last, the sensation of his teeth against your skin sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

“F-Fuck, L-Luffy,” you curse shakily, feeling the coil tighten in your lower stomach as you rapidly approach the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Yeah?” he groans, “Are ya close baby? I can feel ya shaking,” he giggles, his skin meeting yours with a lewd smack with each thrust.

Despite the roughness of his actions, there's a tenderness in his touch—a raw, primal need to possess you completely. With each bite, each thrust, he claims you as his own, leaving no doubt in your mind as to where you belong.

“Y-Yes, captain,” you moan unapologetically, “Please d-don’t stop-!”

As he rams into you with reckless abandon, you can feel the tension building within you, the pressure of his desire pushing you closer and closer to the edge. With each passing moment, the fire of your passion burns hotter and hotter, threatening to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

“Fuck, y/n-”

He groans through gritted teeth as he reaches his own peak, trembling as he holds you up. With one final, brutal thrust, he spills his hot cum deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release.

You reach your own climax in tandem with him, the intensity of your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your legs shake uncontrollably as they remain wrapped around his waist, the waves of pleasure washing over you with an undeniable force.

“L-Luffy,” you whimper, overwhelmed by pleasure, clinging to him desperately.

You collapse into each other's arms, spent and sated, basking in the glow of your shred ecstasy.

“Mine.” Luffy giggles, rubbing comforting circles into the apple of your cheek as he kisses you gently.

“Yours,” you smile against his lips.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

#one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #x reader #luffy x law #monkey d luffy #luffy one piece #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy fanfic

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 6)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: mentions of covering up SA cases, lasting mental effects of dubcon under the synthetic hormones, morally gray characters, lots and lots of self-deprecation and low self-esteem, one mention of sexual dreams

____

Yoongi’s eyes are on the screen, but his mind is everywhere but the presentation. The meeting room is chattering away about profits and liabilities but all he can think about is you and Hoseok. The feeling of betrayal clawing its way into his chest, ripping out his heart and snuggling into his ribcage as a replacement. Betrayal for making him think you weren’t just as twisted inside as the rest of your kind: the ones with mansions, luxury cars, and chauffeurs waiting on their every move. The kind that Yoongi’s worked for already. He remembers how lucky he felt when he got this job, how ecstatic he was to finally work under someone who wasn’t insufferable. Sure, you were brash and cold, but that was nothing compared to his old boss—the one who’d make him commit a thousand crimes to cover up his own. He can’t remember how many books he’s cooked or funds he’s laundered at this point. The worst were the sexual assault claims, looking into every poor woman’s eyes and writing off a check as if it would make her hurt any less. All the nights he’d cry himself to sleep, feeling like a monster, but not knowing how to stop. His mother’s health has always been the first thing on his mind, and it goes from bad to worse too quick for him to quit with no backup. Hospital bills never pay themselves, do they? Especially not when he's the only breadwinner in the family.

He remembers the day you two first met, at a museum opening in Spain, where he was assisting his former employer in landing a partnership with your firm. He can’t say he liked you from the get-go. Didn’t like you at all, quite frankly. You were quite the expert at barking orders, making a scene at every little mistake the nervous waiters made. Everyone was on edge the minute you’d sit down, designer purses propped on the table that cost more than the last surgery his mother needed. But something changed as the week-long trip progressed, when he saw how quickly you shut his boss down the second he proposed a less-than-legal deal. It’s a deal he’d help get many others to sign off on before—with no one caring about the legality when millions were on the table—but you were passionate in your rejection, saying Shin Investments would never take part in anything illegal under your watch.

He still doesn’t know how he found the courage to approach you for a job at the end of the trip. He knew it was risky, that you could not only reject him but also tell his current boss that he’s looking elsewhere. But he was so fed up. Fed up with doing all the dirty work. Fed up with evading the law under the excuse of “doing his job.” You gave him hope that there was a place where he didn’t have to do all that.

You had given him an amused brow raise in response, mentioning how you’d fired your last assistant, just prior to the trip, for smiling in a way that annoyed you. He knew you were challenging him, basically telling him he’s free to try, but he won’t last more than a week.

But, surprisingly to everyone, he does. It’s been two years since his first day, and it’s not an exaggeration to say his relationship with you back then is night and day from the one now. You had purposely put him through absolute hell during the first month, having him run around the office scrambling day after day. But even at your most difficult, it was always “run four blocks to my favorite salad bar and get me lunch in the next twenty minutes” and never “tell the new hires if they keep whining to HR about a compliment, they won’t ever work in this industry again” (the latter being the exact words his former boss once said to him). So, as challenging as you were, it never phased him, as you were much better than the alternative.

It was a little after that first month when you started warming up to him, having your first real conversation after you had one too many glasses of wine at an afterparty. It’s when you admitted that you were looking for any excuse to fire him.

“Because I can just do it. I can do it without any red tape, you know? Firing an assistant is that easy. My father wouldn’t even bat an eye. It's one of the few things I don't have to report to him.”

In a strange way, he understood. You were overcompensating. Even you, the CEO, felt powerless in her circumstances.

That was the first of many similar conversations over the years, each one giving him more insight to why you are the way you are. He’s managed to be the only person who can dull your sharp edges, and you’ve managed to do the same for him. And that’s why it feels like a knife is twisting into his gut at the thought of you using Hoseok for you own pleasure, taking advantage of him in a way Yoongi didn’t know you were capable of doing. No, it wasn’t illegal, but still morally wrong—and though he was understanding of your questionable ethics when you agreed to the Kang deal, knowing how you get when you’re backed into a corner, this was unacceptable. No one was backing you into any corner this time. You did this because you wanted to. It made him feel like he was right back at his old job.

And the worst part is the jealousy. His rational mind knows Hoseok is the victim, but his irrational mind—the one that’s in love with you—can’t stop feeling jealous. His thoughts are racing at a thousand miles per hour, conjuring up scenarios of what the two of you could have been doing. Was it like the dreams he’s had of you? Dreams of you flipped on your stomach under him, moaning his name…but with his name instead? Yoongi feels his skin crawl at the thought of you chanting Hoseok’s name in that way. He’s disgusted in himself for thinking like this, but it’s hard to push it all down when his emotions are threatening to spill out at any moment.

___

Jin steps out of the library for a broom when he lays his eyes on you, absolutely mutilating a poor dethawed chicken. It’s clear that you haven’t cooked a proper meal for years, or maybe even ever. The way you’re holding that knife is unintentionally the funniest thing he’s seen in a while, and that’s why he doesn’t even realize the slight laugh escaping his lips. You look up at the sound, meeting his eyes, which turn from joyful to terrified in a single second.

He almost flinches at the expectation of yelling alone, but that’s not what happens. Instead of your shouts filling the giant kitchen, it’s your laughter.

“I look like a mess, don’t I?”

He shakes his head no, to which you just laugh louder.

“It’s okay Jin, I know I suck at cooking. I’ve been putting this poor chicken through hell for the last forty-five minutes.”

He takes tentative steps forward, broom forgotten as he tries to think on his feet and be useful to you.

“I could…I could do it if I’m allowed. I’m a really good cook!”

You look down at the chicken, almost considering it with how outside of your skillset this all is. But you think better, as he’s already been cleaning the library for hours.

“It’s alright, I think I’ll just leave this chicken alone for tonight and order pizza.”

“Please, I insist! You let Jimin make breakfast!”

You don’t miss the way he pouts the last part out, eyes furrowed in a way you can’t help but find adorable.

“I wouldn’t have let him if he didn’t wake up before me. You guys are recovering patients, you should be resting, not cooking. You shouldn’t even be cleaning the library honestly.”

“But we want to help, we want to be use-“

Jin’s words are cut off by the sound of sniffling, heads turning to the source: a very scared Taehyung stands in the entryway of the kitchen, with Jimin by his side. Your heart drops at the sight of tears rolling down Taehyung’s cheeks, and so does Jin’s—apparent in how fast he makes his way over to the wolf.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?!” He takes his pup’s face into his warm hands, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

Taehyung doesn’t answer, instead saying “I’m so sorry” like it’s a mantra. Jimin doesn’t dare speak, eyes trained on the ground.

You’re unsure if you should step in, as it looks like they’re all having a moment, but it’s clear Taehyung isn’t going to respond to Jin.

“What happened?” You ask softly, knowing anything more in your tone will easily spook them further.

Taehyung’s too distraught to register you’re even addressing him, let alone answer back. It’s Jimin who nudges at the younger wolf’s hands, which you notice have been hid behind his back.

“Taehyung, sweetheart, what’s behind your back?” You pray the use of the nickname will calm him like it did with Hoseok, but he just keeps hyperventilating more.

“Jin, please get him some water” the oldest wolf is darting to the water pitcher before you even finish your sentence. Taehyung refuses to let his hands leave his back, leaving Jin with no choice but to bring the glass to his lips for him. It’s only after a few gulps does he regain some sort of composure. It’s then that he brings his hands to the front, bringing to light the ruined mess of pages in his hands.

Jimin crosses his fingers, praying to any and every god that the book isn’t of significance to you, but your reaction makes it clear to everyone how that is far from the case. You look devastated.

It’s your late grandmother’s favorite book: a collection of translated old German poems. You had stored it in the library—granted, in a clumsy pile with the rest of the things you’ve been too busy to properly put up—planning to get a glass case and eventually display it in the living room.

Your grandmother was your favorite person in the world, and that book was her favorite thing in the world. Some of your happiest childhood memories were created with her reading you those poems, at a time when every other adult in your life was too worried about the family business. When she passed last year, she left you a lot, but the diamonds and pearls were never as dear to your heart as that book. And there it was, in Taehyung’s hands, pages stained and soaking wet.

Jin and Jimin had warned Taehyung not to bring orange juice into the library, but he was too stubborn. He assured his hyungs that he was careful enough to drink it without spilling anything, too excited at the prospect of having full access to the fridge to think much about anything else.

And now the damage was done.

Frankly, you want to break down. But you don’t. You do what you’re used to from the office: take a deep breath and compose yourself before the slightest hint of a tear can creep up on you. Crying alone in your room? Perfectly acceptable. Crying in the sole presence of your assistant? Not the end of the world. Crying in front of literally anyone else? You’d rather burn your flesh off.

“It’s okay” the words are not convincing, but at least your voice isn’t shaking. You try to get away from the situation, feeling suffocated, but the worried hybrids are hot on your trail.

It’s at that moment the main door opens, and you can’t be more thankful at the timing. Yoongi’s here. The one person you can let all your emotions out to. Yoongi, with his comforting words and ginseng tea offerings—if anyone can calm you down right now, it’s him.

Except there’s no warmth in his eyes today, not even when he sees your crushed state or the book in Taehyung’s hands.

Speaking of Taehyung, the wolf is looking at him with pleading eyes. If you aren’t in a state to punish him, someone has to. He fucked up big and deserves whatever either of you dish out. He does hope, however, that his knuckles are spared this time.

“I-I ruined y/n’s book. ’M so s-sorry! Please punish me!”

“Taehyung, I said it’s oka—”

Yoongi cuts you off, tone ice cold.

“It’s not your fault. She should’ve kept it in a safer place.”

You stare at him, stunned.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

“Am I wrong?”

“That’s not the point. You know how much that book means to me…and that’s the first thing you say? You know that’s not what I need to hear right now.”

And that’s when Yoongi’s bottled up rage finally spill all over the floor, flooding everything in its path.

“Well life’s not always about what you want to hear, and if you were taught that as a child instead of being surrounded by servants and yes-men, then maybe this concept wouldn’t be too foreign for you.”

There’s a bite to his words, a bite with canines sharper than those of any wolf hybrid, and it completely destabilizes you. Hot tears start prickling your cheeks, fighting them off no longer a choice.

“What’s gotten into you? W-why are you acting this way?” Your voice is shaking now.

“Because I’m fucking tired of coddling you, of telling you that everything you do is okay even when it’s not. Maybe it’s on me, maybe if I called you out on your shit earlier then it would never get this bad.”

You’re not understanding what he’s trying to say, but you don’t know if that’s because he’s not making sense or how cloudy your brain is right now. Regardless, the venom with which he speaks is enough to shatter your already fragile mental state. The others shuffle down into the living room at the commotion, and suddenly everyone is seeing the one thing you never wanted them to: you bawling your eyes out.

None of the hybrids know what to do. Namjoon’s eyes are locked on Yoongi, ready to lunge if he poses any physical threat, but it’s clear in his body language that Yoongi doesn’t intend to hurt you in that way. Hurting you with words, however, is not something the lab trained Namjoon to protect you against.

It’s not long before you’re running to your room, locking the door, and letting the mascara fully trail down your face, all while gasping for air. Your lungs feel heavy, your eyes feel heavy, everything just feels so heavy. But nothing’s heavier than your heart.

___

Hours go by and the chicken on the counter is long abandoned—no one quite in the mood to eat. You haven’t left your room since the incident, and Yoongi cooped himself up in his room shortly after. The air feels as thick as smoke in a burning building, blocking the lungs of anyone who tries to breathe it in. It’s Taehyung who’s squirming the most, mentally degrading himself for causing all of this in the first place.

I should have listened. Jin and Jimin warned me, but I’m just too stupid to listen. It’s always me that messes up. I’m always the problem of the pack. Maybe if I beg, she’ll only kick me out and let everyone else stay.

A lesser Alpha might have scolded him at the moment, but Namjoon understands how much Taehyung is punishing himself already. He’s all too familiar with how married his pup is to his self-deprecating ways, no matter how much anyone assures him that he’s enough. The lab was always the most strict when it came to the youngest caretaker hybrid, his naturally clumsy nature being the perfect target for their cruelty and leaving him with little to no confidence in anything anymore. So all Namjoon does is take the boy’s hand into his, giving it a squeeze that translates to “I’ve got you,” and wiping away his tears as they rapidly fall. Jin’s got him situated in his lap, hands gently stroking his sides in a way that’s always soothed Taehyung.

“You’ll listen to Jimin and I next time, won’t you pup?” Jin’s voice isn’t all that scolding either, just firm enough to make sure Taehyung learns some sort of lesson from this…for whatever adoption center they’re shipped off to soon.

Taehyung lifts his head up from the oldest’s shoulder, frantically nodding yes.

There’s a knock on the door that makes every hybrid jump, Yoongi’s voice asking to be let in.

“Come in.” Jimin decides too quickly for anyone else to protest.

He awkwardly hovers beside the door, not bothering to close it as he steps in. It’s not long before Yoongi’s eyes zone in on the one he’s here for: Hoseok.

It’s a selfish thing to do, as Hoseok looks like he’d rather be tied to a train track than look into Yoongi’s eyes, but he needs this. He needs to look at the hybrid, the victim, to remind himself not to falter no matter how many tears you shed—because, yes, even now there’s a part of him that wants to hold and comfort you. Yoongi’s always loved sparsely, but hard, and turning it off overnight isn’t something he can do. So, there he is, actively draining out as much as he can by looking at the victim of your actions.

He’s about to apologize for snapping at the wolf yesterday, when another figure peaks into the ajar door. You inch your way closer, not aware of Yoongi’s presence until you’re right at the entrance. Your eyes are puffy and stained black from makeup, but you clutch the wound care kits close to you and brush past him nonetheless. No matter how much you want to lock yourself in your room for eternity, you have a responsibility towards these hybrids and their recovery. It’s clear, as you make your way to the couch, that you’re tired and embarrassed. No one comments on it, though.

“I need to do their wound care.”

And yet again, he seems ready to pick a fight, ignoring your unspoken plea and staying right in place—eyes narrowed into judgmental slits.

“I don’t know what I did that pissed you off so much, but I’m fucking sorry, okay? I can’t deal with this right now, please leave.” Your voice is meek, absolutely no fight left in you. Just desperation to not be in Yoongi’s presence, afraid of what hurtful words will come out of his mouth next.

Yoongi lets out a dry laugh, putting everyone’s nerves on edge. “You don’t know what you did wrong?”

You shake your head earnestly, trying not to feel small when he uses that condescending tone.

“How can you even say that?! How can you pretend to play the victim when Hoseok is right here. I want to throw up just looking at you right now.”

Hoseok? Why would he bring up…

Suddenly all the pieces fall into place.

“Oh my god Yoongi…you assumed I…we…”

“I didn’t assume anything y/n. Hoseok told me directly, so lying isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

You turn your head at a rate that almost gives you whiplash, looking at the hybrid with big eyes. Hoseok doesn’t look at you—can’t look at you. The feeling of your gaze scorches his skin.

“Hobi…”

Hoseok doesn’t know how to breathe anymore, doesn’t know how to do much of anything other than let his own tears waterfall down, heart cringing at the disappointment in which you say his nickname. He knows it was wrong to lie, but he could never have guessed it would turn into something this serious. Did Yoongi like you? Is that why? Or did he have the same moral code thing you had—one that Hoseok couldn’t wrap his head around. The lab had made it very clear that using him for his purpose was no different than using a chair for its purpose—and no one here had a moral problem using chairs. It all hurt his head too much to think about. But regardless, thinking was pointless, because you weren’t even using him. He couldn’t even do that for you, and now his lie is the reason you’re hurting.

Stupid Hoseok. Dumb Hoseok. Stupid Hoseok. Dumb Hoseok.

“I’m so sorry!” The words are broken and muffled through tears, “Y/n didn’t lie…it-it was me…I didn’t want everyone to know I was b-broken.”

The room goes still, the last sentence lingering in the air.

I didn’t want everyone to know I was broken.

Your eyes soften.

“You’re not broken Hoseok”

“You don’t have to say that. I know I am. That day…you pulled back because you could tell I didn’t want it…you shouldn’t have been able to tell that…no…I shouldn’t have not wanted it…that’s why I’m broken.”

Jimin is quick to embrace his hyung, shielding his wrecked state from view, although too late. The hybrids are at a loss for words, with Namjoon being hit the hardest. Hoseok lying meant he didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell the pack the truth—to tell his Alpha the truth. And that’s a failure Namjoon will have to carry on his shoulders for a long time. But now’s not the time for a self-evaluation, now he needs to make sure Hoseok feels his touch on his back. The rest get their hands in wherever they can, gentle pats and caresses to lessen his distress.

You don’t know what else to do to comfort him, to make him believe your words. And frankly, you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to comfort anyone right now. For a moment you can’t help but envy Hoseok, seeing the way his packmates hold him so dearly when he’s crying. You wonder how it must feel to be loved by so many people. It’s not something you can see ever happening for yourself.

Yoongi's not faring well either.

There’s not a word strong enough to describe what he's feeling right now: a cocktail of guilt and absolute dread, swirling in the glass that is his body. Every spiteful word he’s said rings in his ear. How mean he was, how cruel he was. How easily he dismissed your grandmother’s parting gift to you. The worst thing? He made you cry. He’s always promised himself that he would be by your side when the world made you break down, but now it was him causing those mascara stains. And in front of a fucking audience—the thing you hate the most.

“Y/n I—” he doesn’t even know what to say.

No one does, honestly. No one has the heart to blame Hoseok for lying—not when he’s huddled up crying and labelling himself broken. You can’t exactly blame Yoongi for believing him either, because who wouldn’t do the same?

But, regardless of the context, is that how he thought of you? Has he always been by your side with this contempt, thinking of you as a spoiled brat he’s obligated to follow around? That you’d use anyone to get what you want? You would understand if this was back when he was a month into the job…but now, when it’s been two years and you’ve opened up so much of yourself to him…he still held those views? Were they always buried down, hiding until he couldn’t keep them hidden any longer?

Has he stuck by your side all this time feeling so disgusted by you?

Can I even blame him? I am a bitch, after all.

It’s Jimin that pulls you out of your head, bringing a glass of water to your lips as you so badly need it right now. “We’ll do wound care on ourselves tonight, please get some rest.”

___

Yoongi’s two steps behind you, holding his breath as the two of you leave the hybrid room. He doesn’t stop at his bedroom, though, instead following you straight into yours.

“I’ve been a dick.”

You slump onto your bed, dejected, “Maybe I deserved it.”

That’s the last thing he wants to hear. Never in his life did Yoongi think he would be jealous of his coworkers, the ones you’d yell at and kick out of your office the second they made a mistake—but right now, that’s precisely what he wishes you would do. Because the yelling he can withstand, but this is too much for his heart.

“You didn’t deserv—”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to pretend that you didn’t mean any of it. I know I’ve never been the easiest person to deal with. You don’t have to like me to do your job well…if you still want to even work for me…”

“I should be the one begging to keep my job. I only said what I said out of spite, y/n, I wanted to hurt you because I just felt so angry. Fuck, the thing I said about your grandmother’s book too, I feel like shit.”

You wince at the mention of the poems.

“Seeing her book in his hands…I wanted to yell at him so bad Yoongi...but he looked so terrified…and Hoseok looked so terrified too …so who am I even allowed to be angry at?”

Yoongi doesn’t know how to respond, so he instead grabs a makeup wipe from the vanity. He’s gentle in the way he glides it across your skin, extra care around each eye. You let it happen, like a limp doll in his grasp, head hurting too much to be anything else.

“Get some sleep now.”

“How can I be sure you don’t hate me? That you don’t hate working for me?”

“Because”

I’m actually in love with you.

“You’re more than my boss. You’re my best friend y/n.”

____

A/N: I know I'm the writer but I'm waiting for them to be a fluffy big happy family as much as the next person. Baby steps though. Please let me know your thoughts! They are always appreciated.

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universe @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

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laenordeservedbetter · 1 year

Note

For Sam x reader.

Ghostface is back and had followed the Carpenters, the twins, and Amber's older sister, Reader, to New York. No one trusting her because of the fact that her little sister was Ghostface, Reader is in disbelief, and Sam breaks up with her on the spot. Fast forward to the end, where Ghostface is dead, everyone's being treated by paramedics, Reader is seen walking away from the scene alone. Kirby asks where she is, Sam then sees her walking away, holding her broken arm to her body, and runs after her and apologies for not trusting and believing her. (Reader saying it's too late for sam to apologize. She then walks away from her friends, from Sam.)

You're Somebody Else

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Freeman!Reader

Synopsis: You were told that the biggest betrayal comes from the people you care about the most, but never did you expect it to hurt so much.

Warnings: scream vi spoilers, violence, spitting, cussing, angst, no happy ending. lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I wrote this at a coffee shop. I'm still here rn, so we'll see how many fics I can post before I go home. (This will probably be the only one)

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

You stood before Amber’s Ghostface outfit, reaching out to touch the fabric before you remembered where you were -- who you’re with. The glares given to you by the rest of the group burned at the back of your skull. You can practically sense their judgments. Since the first Ghostface attack in New York, they pointed their fingers at you. You understood, given what you've all been through. Can't be too careful. You didn’t care that you saw the contempt on your own girlfriend’s face. You stayed by her side, understanding where she was coming from.

Being related to a previous Ghostface was something you and Sam had in common. When you are linked to a person with that track record, it sticks with you even if you are different from them. Trust becomes hard to give. And out of everyone, you figured your girlfriend is the one who understood the most about what it’s like. However, it looks like the sentiment isn’t shared.

She approaches you, getting the courage to ask, “Can we talk?”

You can tell what’s about to happen before Sam can utter what she wants to say to you.

Nothing good ever comes out of conversations like these.

“I’m sorry.” Sam stares, her gaze cold, nothing like the Sam you fell in love with. With each deafening step she takes away from you, your heart shatters just a little bit more. You are wounded by the way she’s looking at you. Any wound or injury you might sustain in the next few minutes will not compare to the poison laced in the invisible knife held against your throat by the woman you love. “I can’t take any more chances. I can’t trust you. We’re done.”

You scoff, glancing towards the group in hopes that they would back up your claim. “Sam, you know me. I would never hurt you or Tara or. . . Anika.”

Mindy flinches at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. Her stare hardens. “You have no right to say her name. We know you did it. You killed her.”

“Mindy…” Your voice breaks as your throat feels like it’s closing up. You can’t do anything to convince them, letting the stream of tears flow from your eyes. No one came to your rescue to prove your innocence. None of them trusted you. You felt pathetic, humiliated, embarrassed. Your eyes settle on Sam again. “Really? After everything we’ve been through together, you-”

Sam glowers. “It’s over, Y/n. Please, stay away from us.”

“Fuck you.” You turn your back, the hurt in your tone clear as day. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.”

It was one thing for you to walk away and another knowing that Sam would not be going after you.

“It was easy luring you away from the group. Guess we really can’t choose our family, huh?” Ghostface makes a tsk sound, the voice changer turned off.

He takes a step forward, but you stay positioned adjacent to the wall. That voice…

“Ethan?”

Ethan removes his mask, holding the voice changer to his lips, “Didn’t expect that?”

Of course it was him. Little by little, the pieces fall into place. The apartment attack -- that was probably Ethan. He wasn’t with the group. Not even the skeptic Mindy questioned his whereabouts. Your tears haven’t dried yet and you were as sure as hell they weren’t going to stop now. You bring your hands together in a slow clap. “Oh, wow, that’s… Fucking brilliant, actually.” Clutching your stomach, you let out what sounded like a painful cackle. “This is the part where I die.” You say. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Oh no, no, no. See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Ethan smirks, gripping your left arm, applying pressure to where you had been previously injured a couple nights prior. “You are our scapegoat. I must give credit to Mindy for the idea. You have the perfect motive to be Ghostface! It was just gonna be Sam, but… The press would go crazier if it was a Bonnie & Clyde situation. Not that I care about that sorta stuff. It just works.”

You collect the saliva from your mouth, spitting in his eye. “Jokes on you ‘cause we’re not together anymore.”

“But they wouldn’t know that because by the time you get ‘caught’, all of your friends will be dead and you would look like the asshole trying to save yourself if you attempt to say the truth.”

Ethan places his free hand on your shoulder, pulling your arm with more force than necessary to guarantee that it would break. You stand there, biting your lip in order to hide the pain. If I screamed, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway, you said to yourself bitterly. There’s not a single person who’d give me the benefit of the doubt. In fact, they’d make me suffer worse, believing that Ethan did the right thing. Who knows what creative scenarios he came up with already.

The paramedics found you slumped down beside a row of chairs after Sam and the rest of the group defeated the three Ghostfaces. They wondered why you weren’t with the others, but with a quick word from Kirby, they left you alone, guiding you outside to treat your broken arm. One of the paramedics - Theo (that’s what you heard Kirby call him) asked if you wanted a ride to the hospital. You declined, insisting that you could get there yourself without anyone’s help.

You spare Sam a glance, observing her interact with Mindy, Chad, and Tara. Core Four. Good for them. Although you were glad that they are are still extant, you can’t stop the rancor that you feel as you stare at the four. You want nothing more than for this day to be over, move to someplace else, maybe change your name. Anywhere is better than here. It’s become clear to you how unwanted you are in New York. A change of scenery might do you good.

Kirby (the only person who hasn’t treated you like scum) situates herself in front of Sam, “Hey, where’s Y/n?”

Sam only notices your absence when Kirby pointed it out. “Shit. I…” She scans the area in search of your familiar eyes, guilt eating at her knowing that she accused you of being a killer. Because of that, you got hurt. She’d never forgive herself for it. “I'll be right back.”

The blonde detective nods in understanding. “I’ll stay with Tara.”

“Thank you.”

You were on your way to the hospital when a hand grasps your injured arm. Recoiling from the touch, you look back to curse the one responsible for hurting your limb only to meet Sam’s pleading gaze. “What do you want, Samantha?”

“Y/n, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being careless, for not trusting or believing you. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Sam touches your good shoulder this time, expressing her genuine apology.

But no matter how many ‘I’m sorry’s’ she will direct at you, it won’t take away what’s been done. “It’s too late, Sam.”

“What? No. We can try again.” She pleads desperately.

You couldn’t bite back the words the words that are on the tip of your tongue, feeling the last ounce of self control fray away. “Try again? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? You broke up with me because you didn’t trust me. You didn’t even try to understand my side!” The news reporters turned their heads at your outburst. They point their cameras to you, but you don’t make an effort to cut off your ebullition short. “All of you pointed your hands at me because what? I’m the sister of a killer?! If we’re basing our suspicions of all the Ghostface’s relatives, you should’ve been on the top of the list. The only thing I asked was for you to stand by me and you failed. So, no, we can’t try again. We’ll only end up worse than where we left off.” You finish, walking away from everything (not for the first time). “I’ll get my things out of your apartment tonight. After that, you won’t have to see me again.”

Sam stays still while you leave, clutching your arm in the process. That limb will heal, but the words that Sam has spoken won’t. There will remain a constant reminder of how you were betrayed by those you would give everything for.

So much for trust.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream 6 #scream #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #ethan landry

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement.

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this.

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime.

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air.

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava.

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after.

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life.

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!”

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately.

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.”

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger.

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets.

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!”

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling.

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!”

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds.

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice.

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?”

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things.

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.”

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.”

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again.

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had.

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision.

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider.

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line?

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.”

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.”

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead.

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough.

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing.

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!”

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out.

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly.

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes.

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment.

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline.

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand.

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth.

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them.

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones.

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment.

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas.

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt.

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh.

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad.

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow.

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond.

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed.

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!”

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door.

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger.

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge.

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide.

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle.

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms.

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused.

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs.

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile.

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience.

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes.

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette.

At the end of the train, only the engine remains.

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man.

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering.

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet.

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time.

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher.

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame.

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion.

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts.

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor.

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air.

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake.

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you.

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.”

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch.

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot.

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple.

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you.

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.”

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up.

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!”

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.”

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse.

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you.

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.”

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves.

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck.

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch.

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.”

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat.

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard.

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up.

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains.

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion.

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now.

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming.

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood.

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh.

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast.

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony.

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly.

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath.

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat.

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice.

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function.

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack.

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist.

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty.

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh.

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction.

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.”

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied.

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you.

But he can’t move.

“Harp!”

And you can’t feel your fingers.

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry.

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross.

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils.

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy.

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze.

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this.

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly.

You can’t break—not like Rorke.

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull.

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless.

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out.

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do.

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you.

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later.

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before.

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.”

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open.

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood.

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth.

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh.

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse.

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes.

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches.

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt.

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

“Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground.

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage.

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!”

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion.

Keegan?

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.”

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger.

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid.

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed.

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.”

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad.

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.”

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!”

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again.

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head.

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious.

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.”

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him.

“Christ,” he hisses.

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick.

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane.

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge.

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold.

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding.

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan.

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead.

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body.

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still.

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes.

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you.

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion.

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!”

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob.

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on.

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.”

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how.

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind.

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence.

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard.

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had.

Two months.

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet.

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President.

He’d denied all of them.

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety.

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open.

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention.

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none.

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you.

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing.

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?”

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight.

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully.

It’s a moment before he answers you.

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.”

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room.

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared.

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say.

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy.

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you.

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again.

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent.

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks.

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there.

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them.

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it.

But you��d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr.

Hesh. You want your Hesh back.

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging.

Home.

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.”

You push yourself into him tighter.

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture.

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love.

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

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#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #x female reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #hesh walker x female reader #hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker #hesh walker #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #call of duty: ghosts

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atinycafe · 10 months

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hello can i request "feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there" and the one underneath it for poly!ateez? thank you, i love the way you write <3

pairing: poly!ceo!ateez x hybrid!reader (focus on mingi, san and joong) prompt: "feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there" + "trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so" includes: established relationship, implicit mention of reader having slight separation anxiety, use of "daddy" once but it's not used sexually. word count: 1.4k author's note: thank you so much omg ilysm, that makes me so happy!! hope you have a nice day/night (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) how + what to request? + masterlist

it's been tough. like, seriously tough. your cat ears perk up as your hand reaches for the phone resting on the kitchen counter.

you've been attempting to be a really good kitty, but it's just not working out. your tail sways back and forth behind you. owners!ateez have left you all alone at home for the first time. normally, when they stepped out, at least one of them would stay with you, cradling you in their arms. but this time, luck wasn't on your side. yeosang rained apologies upon your hair, muttering about a super crucial meeting regarding some important business at their company.

you totally get it. your humans are busy men. but you can't shake off the uneasiness that settles in your chest, making it tighten beneath jongho's shirt.

you make up your mind to give them a call. it's alright, you reassure yourself, confident that they won't be bothered. you're simply going to ring them up to find out when they'll be back. you can handle it.

you grab the phone and launch the calling app, pondering over whom to dial. your gaze lingers on the mere eight saved numbers, and you allow your index finger to hover over each one thoughtfully, contemplating their potential responses. who among them would be the least peeved at being disturbed during a meeting?

all of them are nice, but you're aware that a few of them tend to get super absorbed in their work. you nibble on your lower lip, feeling your fangs gently puncture tiny holes into it, recalling seonghwa's gentle admonishment about this habit. his thumb would always come to rescue, freeing your lip from between your teeth, as you taste the metallic tang on your tongue. releasing your lip, you muster the courage and press the number of your choice.

you lift the phone to your ear and patiently await the sound of the ringing tone.

the person on the other end answers promptly, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"sorry, i have to take this call, i'll be right back you can go on without me, yunho, fill me in on what i missed once the meeting's done," you hear mingi's gravelly voice, and your heart tightens at the realization that he didn't even wait to find a private moment to answer the phone.

"hey baby, everything alright?" you hear a door close, muffling mingi's words slightly, but it doesn't hinder the tears welling up in your eyes.

you part your lips, intending to ask the question you've been mustering the courage to pose for the past hour, but instead, a choked-up sob escapes from your throat.

"baby?" this time, mingi's voice takes on a breathy tone, and you can hear him swallow hard. "what's going on, kitty? what's wrong?"

you attempt to respond, but it feels like something is lodged in your throat, causing only coughs to escape, while more tears stream down your face.

"shh, it's okay, kitten. just take a breather," his deep voice resonates through the phone. "in and out, inhale, exhale. yeah, just like that. good girl." you can hear the smile in his voice as you attempt to follow his instructions, albeit shakily.

"are you okay now, kitty? can you tell me what's wrong?" he finally asks, as he senses your breath evening out.

"miss you," you simply answer, while rubbing at your eyes. it's a simple phrase, just two words, but they manage to convey your feelings as you hear mingi hum in response.

"i'll tell the boys to wrap up the meeting. we'll be there in 20. is that okay with you, baby?" mingi assures, offering a solution to your longing.

no, it's not. twenty minutes feels far too long, and before you can concoct a convincing enough lie to spare him any annoyance, mingi interrupts your train of thought.

"actually, baby, we'll be there in 10 minutes. we'll ditch the chauffeur and have wooyoung drive. in the meantime, go to the closets and grab whatever clothes you want," he croons, waiting for a genuine response this time.

"no, hongjoong's gonna be mad," you shake your head, even though mingi can't see you. clutching the phone tighter in your hand, you recall hongjoong's expression when you had raided his closet, piling up all his expensive clothes on your bed, yearning for his scent. he had been kind, explaining gently that you couldn't do that, but you couldn't ignore the visible veins that had surfaced on his forehead upon discovering his favorite balmain suit buried beneath the covers.

"no, he won't, and even if he is, i'll tell him i gave you permission, okay?" mingi reassures, determined to ease your worries about hongjoong's potential reaction.

"okay," you reply softly, your voice carrying a mix of relief and trust in his words.

"i'll hang up then. we'll be there soon enough," mingi confirms, the anticipation evident in his voice.

"okay," you respond once more.

"love you?" mingi asks in a peculiar manner, and you understand that he's subtly requesting to hear you say "i love you." it strikes you as odd, since you never fail to reciprocate those three words.

"love you," you respond, and before hanging up, you hear a playful "mwah" followed by the disconnection of the call.

you swiftly release the phone without a second thought and make your way through each room, collecting a piece of clothing from each of the boys. as you enter hongjoong's room, you pause in front of his wide-open closet. your gaze fixates on the velvety texture of his renowned black and white balmain suit, but you opt against taking it after catching a faint trace of his scent, faded from the length of time it had remained unworn. instead, you choose to retrieve one of his cozy hoodies, adding it to the growing pile in your hands.

you make your way back to your room, tossing all the clothes onto your bed. following suit, you bounce onto the soft surface, sliding yourself under the covers. taking the gathered clothes, you form them into a ball and press it against your face, inhaling deeply. the intertwined scents of your beloved humans instantly envelop you, bringing a profound sense of tranquility.

without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep, your ears being the only things peeking out from beneath the cozy pink covers.

you gradually awaken to the sensation of gentle kisses being planted on your nose. you open your eyes slightly, only to be greeted by san's blond bangs. before you can even process his presence in your bed, you feel the comforting touch of another pair of cold hands softly scratching the base of your ears. a purr instinctively emanates from your chest, and san smiles against your pulse, relishing the soothing vibrations against his own skin, a sensation he always adores.

you manage to turn, your eyes half-closed as the light filters in, and they settle on hongjoong's gentle smile. he's still dressed in a suit, and you blush at the sight. you adore him in sweatpants and oversized shirts, but your heart can't help but flutter faster in his presence.

you hear san chuckle, his head still nestled in your neck.

"kitty, your heart's beating so fast. happy to see daddy?" he mumbles, strong hands intertwining around your waist, his palm coming to rest on your chest, feeling the gentle thud of your heart.

hongjoong's smile widens as you glance away, unable to meet his gaze due to the embarrassment. he bends down slightly, his hand reaching to gently hold your cheeks. you revel in the coolness of his touch, appreciating how his hands always seem to be refreshingly cold.

"i'm happy to see you too, kitten. i missed you so much, couldn't stop thinking about you during that boring meeting," he whispers in the quiet room. you feel san nod against you, his arms tightening around you, and he murmurs a "me too."

"where are the others?" you inquire, noticing the absence of their hands on your body, causing a slight twitch in your eyebrows.

"in the shower, they're coming soon" hongjoong answers, his smile never leaving his face as he looks down at you. you nod in response, managing to free one hand from san's grasp, reaching out for hongjoong, and the eldest boy takes your hand. he sits down next to you, his eyes never wavering from your gaze as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead.

and soon enough you feel the thumping sounds of footsteps in the hallways, approaching your door. the boys enter to find you sandwiched between san and a shirtless hongjoong, his vest and dress shirt long forgotten on the heated floor of your room.

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bloodymarsupials1 · 17 days

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sooooo, i wanted to make this because i apparently cant reblog and i have no idea why. (i'm referencing the little...challenge? however you want to call it by @drinkyourvillainjuice.

anyway here it is, i also added a few fanfics just cause.

The Second Sight @spoiledblog (demo) You’re an urban legend in a county full of them. When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers.You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons. You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.

After The End @albywritesfiction (demo)

Your former fiancé and heir apparent of the Aurelian Kingdom, Prince Ædan, has married the love of his life, the fair Saintess Helene. As the nation celebrates their union, you are left alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart... until you receive two letters. One is an invitation to the office of Prince Ædric, the crown prince's younger brother and rival for the throne. The other is a letter filled with concern from your childhood friend and secretary-in-training, Cyfrin, who is currently assisting your father at your family’s ducal estate in the countryside. Each letter contains a proposition that will change the course of your fate forever.

Which one will you choose?

God-Cursed @wings-of-ink (Demo)

you were found as a newborn, clutched in the arms of your dead mother at the base of a tree. No family came to claim you, but the men who came to your rescue adopted you as their own and became the only parents you’ve ever known. Growing up in the village of Stonebrook, you never want for much, until the day you first fall ill. Life plagues you with a mysterious condition that no one can diagnose or cure. You never know when it will strike or if it will eventually kill you. Living between fear and hope as you age, you try to come into your own as an adult with the ever-looming threat above you. As years pass, your condition seems to improve, until a mysterious mark appears on your body and opens up new questions.

It appears that you’re marked for death with no answers as to why, and your only chance to survive is to go out and seek them.

Journey through the land of Iroda, a fantasy world where the gods have abandoned their people and magic no longer prevails as it once did. Something is brewing that may change this world forever, and you’re in the middle of it, though your role is a mystery you must solve. Wanted dead by some and alive for mysterious purposes by others, you just want to survive. With the help of a few friends, find the answers that you need, and make your choices.

Before We are Ghosts @anjiefiction (DEMO) When a powerful villain threatens the safety of Metamora, you and the city’s heroes go to great lengths to stop him, and ultimately you are forced to pay the biggest price of all.(Against all odds, the heroes win. The victory is hollow.)The doctors are professional, if not sympathetic. They tell you that your body is in the process of slowly shutting down. No, they aren’t sure why. No, there isn’t a cure. When you ask how much time you have left, the faces grow dark. Perhaps a year, they say. Two if you’re lucky.(You thought you could rest. You thought wrong again.)For as threats resurge and the past rears its ugly head, you can only wonder: Do you have the strength to see things through? Will there be enough time?And when the end comes, can you find the courage to say goodbye?

more than me @ryanstillwrites-if (Demo) On a Wednesday morning, you leave your doctor's office with the diagnosis of an inoperable brain tumour and the knowledge of an estimated four months left to live.Suddenly left without any direction in your life, you find yourself in a support group for the terminally ill. Where you expected to find sadness, melancholy and a looming sense of dread at thought of a fast approaching death - all the same feelings you harbour - you find smiles and laughter instead.You're drawn in by the people you meet there, curious and confused by their carefree attitudes. They're kind to you, they take you in, they turn your frown upside down - literally and figuratively. And just when you think you might be beginning to accept your fate; they decide to throw all caution to the wind and whisk you away on the adventure of a lifetime.You don't know what will come of the next four months but with your new friends at your side, you're excited to find out. After all, this is the only life you've been given, and though it may be ending soon; you might as well live it to the fullest.

Omen of Ice @omen-of-ice (no demo) The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life— residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?Let’s see how your story unfolds…

Mons Immortalium @mons-immortalium-if (DEMO) Mons Immortalium is a fantasy romance interactive story. Human MC falls into the magical land of the faeries, a mountain island that has been secluded from the rest of the world for over a millennium. Break curses, fall in love and beware of wicked faeries. Whatever you do, never give them your true name!

In the Cards @inthecards (demo)

You've always had psychic powers. Reading auras, speaking with the dead, and channeling spiritual energy through runes - these number just a few of the things you're capable of. It's not an unusual gift in the kingdom of Khepris, though it's uncommon enough that you've only met a few other people with such abilities in your small hometown.

After a plague sweeps through the kingdom, unrest bubbles up in the realm known as the Beyond, home to fae and spirits alike. A group of fae who call themselves the Butterfly Court are testing the boundaries between your worlds, and they don't seem to care what harm they may be causing along the way.

With a deck of tarot cards imbued with mystical powers in your possession, you're pulled into the struggle against the Butterfly Court. You must join one of two organizations - the King's Guardians or the Hounds - in order to fight back against this mysterious court… or risk losing everything.

Parasitical @parasitical-if (DEMO)

His flesh, our sustenance. His blood, our drink. His bones, our foundation, His body, our haven.

Five hundred years ago, the Earth was dying. Water polluted, dirt infertile, forests and meadows crumbling to the wars of steel and fire. And so the Order called His Grace, the Lord of Communion, down from where he rested before and He allowed humanity to rest inside his body.

Or at least, that's the story the Order tells.

You grew up under the masked faces of their Exalted, under the stories of Earth past. Rusted metal and cracked plastic; His bone and His flesh. Conflicting worlds, conflicting times, and soon, it might all come to a head.

crown of ashes and flames @coeluvr (demo) The war had taken everything from you.King Luceris had taken everything from you.You were just nine years old when all of this happened. One moment you were in your room sleeping and the next you were walking through smoke and ash trying to find your parents.Love, he said, was the reason he started the war. Ironically, you lost everything you loved but you also lost yourself when he let you survive and dragged you away to his home.In a new Kingdom with no one on your side what choices will you make to survive? Who will you become?Inside of you, there’s something burning for revenge and there’s only one thing I want to tell you. Let it out.

Bleeding Heart @bleedingheart-if (Demo) Congratulations, you got engaged. Whether that is good or bad is ultimately up to you.Shortly after your engagement, your fiancé sets out on a journey to the distant lands of Transylvania, a real estate opportunity that proved too irresistible to decline.With your wedding temporarily on hold, you don't hesitate to respond when your childhood friend Lucy implores you to pay her a visit, seeking your company and counsel with an urgent matter concerning her very own future.The strangeness begins as you arrive in Whitby, a charming coastal town where the Westenra's estate resides.

checkmatein 3 moves @checkmatein3moves (DEMO) YOU are the heir; the child of one of the most powerful women on Oracle Island. When she’s accused of murdering her sister almost forty years prior after the revelation of a suspicious anonymous tip, her power falls to you — but so will her reputation.Many questions present themselves: is your mother a killer? Who wants to see her fall for it? Who will make the next move in the inevitable game? Can you play as well as the rest of them?The Elite Class are full of blood and schemes. Your generation carries the scars of those before them, and thus you all must join the game or face the consequences. But dark intentions are cloaked in silk and diamonds, and the heady taste of power corrupts like an infection.

The Abyssal Song @ri-writes-if (DEMO) In the underworld kingdom, where demons fight for survival against the abyssal monsters, you are just an Oracle. In the distant past the Oracles were at the top of the demonic hierarchy, but those golden days are long gone. You did what you were most afraid to do and now sit under arrest in the royal palace.When the Abyss sends you a vision of a terrible disaster that will happen in the future, you make an inevitable “deal” with the Sovereign to try to change the future and improve your abilities, not only to become stronger and learn more about the coming disaster, but also in an attempt to achieve mind stability.However, what has been happening to you since you received the vision makes you think that you are already slowly but surely losing your mind.Will you be able to maintain your sanity and help others protect the kingdom, or will you become just another name in the long list of Oracles gone mad?

the lonely shore @thelonelyshore-if (DEMO) Meet me at the cabin. Please.You weren’t sure what to make of it. A cryptic late night text sent from your younger sibling, begging you to meet up at your family’s old lake home. The plea for help was as concerning as it was confusing. As far as you knew, neither of you had set foot in the cabin in a decade. You had your hesitations, but Willow seemed desperate. You couldn’t help but oblige.Everything goes downhill fast when Willow's research into childhood ghost stories lands you in a town that doesn't exist. A town where people go missing at an alarming rate, where things that aren't quite human run businesses with hungry eyes, where time runs differently.A town you can't leave.Something about Easthaven is wrong. A supernatural fog permeates the town, so thick you could choke…but you’re one of the only people who seems to notice it. You’re quick to realize the fog keeps the residents ignorant, keeps them passive, keeps them trapped. When people who have long since gone missing start coming back home, you realize Easthaven’s mysteries go deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Kenneski @devilishmango (here)You were ripped away from your home, your life- all because you were accused of using magic. Sent away on carriages, bursting full of others like you, being brought to Kenneski Prison. It’s a prison made specifically to hold those that can wield magic, making it so you are powerless. It’s a death sentence for most that go there. But not for you.

stagnation @stagnation-if (DEMO) It's the year 2524, and you're a defeated God/Goddess/Deity in a place and time where your kind is rarely needed anymore. After being locked away and thought to be dead for nearly a millennia, you wake up.

The Fall of House Black @endemise (DEMO) The fall of House Black, your house, was an imminent thing. A name had never been so cursed that all it could do was bring about death.First, your younger sister in a swimming accident, then your older brother in a case of mistaken identity. As the rest of your family sought to grieve and bring justice to your brother, your older sister was killed in a hunting accident at the end of your father’s bow.The three of you, mother, father, and child, became inconsolable. Broken beyond repair. Your mother unable to bear the weight of life any longer took her own while your father disappeared, gone into the night. When you remain the sole survivor of House Black, you know you must leave, and on the night of your decision, your home goes up in flames with you inside.Then, you awake, dazed with no recollection of anything, and when you look down at your body, you scream. It is wrong. So wrong.

Drink Your Villain Juice @drinkyourvillainjuice (demo) Everyone knows that superpowers come about through three distinct methods.One can be born to their abilities, see them emerge in a moment of great strife, or acquire them through extensive cybernetic augmentation.Everyone is wrong.You’d know. If only that knowledge—and your snazzy slash horrible powers—didn’t come with a host of strings attached. Too bad that was an offer you couldn’t refuse.Did I mention one of the strings was supervillainy?Thrown headlong into a life of crime, balance conflicted loyalties, personal scars, and navigating a web of secrecy and deception, all while maintaining your cover.Above all, remember to drink your Juice. Your life depends on it.

The Gilded @the-gilded (Demo v1.2) Your younger brother, Leo, went missing three days ago. Your parents called the police, and they started investigating quickly. They were too late. Leo had already disappeared into the deepest part of the forest, where the mortals have vowed never to return. The police have offered to contact your family if Leo crosses the barrier back to the mortal side, but their investigation can’t go any further without inviting the wrath of the Fae.The winter solstice is approaching fast, which means that the High Fae are likely gathering mortal children for their great feast. The only way to get your brother back is to follow him into the forest and steal him back from the palace of the High Fae… If you can get there in one piece. The Fae forest is full of tricksters and killers, and you'll likely need some allies to help get you both back home.

VANGUARD @vanguard-if (PLAY) As a faering, you should want to keep to yourself. Your home is a safe haven where your dragon kin people reside; a place of true neutrality. There are no allies to the Midlands, nor are there enemies. Your people simply are, and this will not change.But you were never one much for rules, were you? With whispers of a certain prince in the Northlands allegedly receiving death threats from your docile leader, Cirrus, you could only slip away into the depths of the North to go see for yourself. It's so hilariously outrageous that your peace-loving ruler has such rumours teeming about them.You did not expect to find a bounty hunter bleeding out from her abdomen. And most of all, you did not expect her to know you by name, even through her raggedy breaths. And most of all, you did not expect her to have leads on the one you seek: the Northern Prince.

TWISTED GOLD @icaroif (DEMO) In the wake of an attack on your village that left your father dead and everybody you had ever known missing or the same, you are given one option; find your uncle in the Capital or else run for the hills and never look back. It was never really a choice anyway.

NINE BLOOD DANCES @nineblooddances-if [DEMO] You were a gift. Now to whom? No one knows.All that matters is that you are a gift and not like any of the others of your species. Uniqueness and importance oozes from every fiber of your being. You're important. Everyone says you're important. But why you're so important?Who knows?You must figure out what makes you so special and different. You must figure out what drives you through all circles. And you have to figure out why the nine commanders of Hell all have their eyes upon you and wish to have you by their side.All before the fall of the ninth moon.

Trouble Brewing @troublebrewing-if (Demo) it's all fun and games until someone loses a head!Quinn, your best friend, has brought you some awful news: your illustrious parents, having run out of potential mates for their brood, have set you up with the worst person you know -- Devon Bainbridge. Your intended is uncouth, self-indulgent, and ten years your senior.Of course, if no one can find you, the wedding's off, right?Make daring escape from your family's castle, get pressed into joining a rebellion, and find yourself fighting alongside a plucky bard, a brooding bandit, a naive idealist, and a fool-in-training. Escape marriage, join a rebellion, and find love… or sabotage it all.

ANECDOCHE @anecdoche-if (Demo) You wake up chained to a chair by one of the most notorious gangs in the country, only to be saved by one of the most famous hero organizations only a few moments later. Who wants you so badly that they would hire an entire gang to abduct you, and can you really trust the Supers that have been put in charge of your protection?

Blood of Morana @blood-of-morana (demo) You are one of the people, cursed with Morana’s magic, which gives you power over both winter and death. You can imagine that being one of the White Deaths hasn’t exactly made you the beacon of hope or the icon of popularity among your people. Worse yet, some of your magic has been sealed, making it impossible to witch away the inquisition.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart @doriana-gray-games (demo)

Play as your version of Sherlock Holmes in this romance detective game!

Make an enemy of a friend and a lover out of an enemy. Solve the case of boredom. Have a pet bird—and best of all, play as a romantically and emotionally stunted genius detective!

nemisi @elegy-if (demo) The struggle between cosmic deities — now worshiped (or abhorred) as gods — tore its way into your planet not long before you were born. Unlucky for you, you were one of the first generations to be born exposed to Excinate, the name given to the radioactive-like sickness that comes from being exposed to magic not of your world. As you've built up a bit of an immunity to the more dire consequences, you were promptly ripped from your family after a doctor's visit when the Excinate got a bit too close to your childhood home. Since then, you’ve been shipped around and transported from facility to facility to be poked and prodded at.Until now. No, now you’re free.Aside from that lingering hunger for flesh you’ve had since becoming infected, of course. Just a little side effect from the radiation, along with a mouthful of jagged teeth and a jaw that can unhinge like a snake.

Burning Academia @burning-academia-if (Demo) You never thought you'd go to college, due to your circumstances. But you especially didn't dream you'd be forced to attend the prestigious Vales Grove University after being attacked by wraiths in their library. What started as a visit to a long time friend, ended with your hands burned, your innocence questioned, and the startling realization magic is real.To apologize for what's happened to you, or more accurately, to keep an eye on you, the Headmaster himself offers you enrollment with all fees waived. With no real choice in the matter, you become a student, and try to ignore the suspicion everyone throws your way. Besides, you have worse things to deal with.Like how you've started to attract ghosts and other dead things, or the fact that there is a very living thing inside your head, waiting for you to lower your guard and take control. And most pressing of all, managing your obligation to a family that hasn't been such a thing in years.Tread carefully, if the ghosts don't devour you, the university certainly might.

lightweaver: Chosen @lightweaver-chosen-if (DEMO) A world where elemental deities share a fraction of their powers to their chosen, bringing upon the age of weavers; humans with the ability to manipulate the elements of their patron.You have been chosen by a mysterious lightning deity—blessing you with the power to weave lightning. But with a troubled childhood haunting your every step, your new abilities present a double-edged sword.The choices you make, the support you receive, and the inner strength you harness define your journey—a journey fraught with anguish, but one that promises a life outside Mother’s grasp.Two divergent paths lay ahead.Will you let yourself heal and grow, or will you fall deeper into the void?

Talon's End @asheepinthenight (DEMO) You were never destined to marry for love.As the third child of the Earl of Eastthorn, your purpose is to marry to your family's advantage, but after one failed engagement already, your prospects are less than promising. So when the Crown calls upon you to infiltrate the lair of an Elven sorcerer in search of a powerful magical weapon, the offer is too good for your family to refuse.But leaving your respectable home to marry an immortal being of immense power quickly puts you in uncharted territory. Between your secretive, disagreeable spouse and their labyrinthine spire infested with strange creatures, your mission to uncover their secrets is risky from the start. But as you come to know both your partner and your new home at Talon's End, you discover terrors and wonders unlike anything you've known–and the true price of your mission.

Leas: City of the Sun @sailingshellsgames (demo) Enter the city of Leas, where humans dwell in safety behind city walls while strange and powerful Fey roam the wilds. Play as one of a rare few skilled enough to explore the outside world, an agent of Den Zarel.After making a dangerous discovery you are sent on a mission that unfolds into an adventure that will unearth more than expected, and more than you alone can handle.Fortunately, you’ll have help along the way: a lifelong friend hiding a dangerous secret, a mysterious and taciturn rogue, and an eccentric and charming mage unite under your banner to help save your city, and possibly, the world

#OMG #IT FINALLY WORKS!!!!!!!#btw this is like page 6 of a 45 page list #all of these are GOOOD and would recommend #my brian goes 'nom #NOM NOm

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selfishdoll · 6 months

Text

❛anything for you...❜ ━━ ft. nanami kento | resident evil inspired au.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ you, the precious daughter of an important scientist are rescued by the gentlemanly government agent, nanami kento. you’re a mission, nothing more.. right? (word count: 5248)

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ this got much longer then i wanted it to, so the smut is towards the end— i’m sorry !! also excuses typos & grammar mistakes please.

“Nanami…. Nanami, my legs hurt.” The words crawled from your mouth in a long, annoying drawl— dragging behind the man that still walked tall and strong ahead of you. The two of you had seemed to walk for hours, clothes stained in disgusting substances that came from the bloodthirsty freaks that rushed towards you the second you entered their milky sights. You were tired, hungry, and felt disgusting. Your favorite flare jeans and pink top were ruined and you were sure the short, bohemian braids you had were caked with grime.

“My legs hurt!” You called again after the man’s silence, watching his shoulders fall in a sigh.

“Just a few more miles, we need to find somewhere to rest.”

You pouted, bringing your arms close. You definitely weren’t suited for this, this whole; staying alive while running away from the undead thing. You were fully prepared to drink yourself to death back at your hotel room, but unfortunately; fate had different plans.

You had to admit, it was courageous the way Nanami Kento burst into your room, shutting and securing the door behind him. With one glance to you he was mumbling something into the receiver situated in his ear, walking over and kneeling before you. In your drunken state he was carefully touching you, searching for injuries and asking if you felt okay. If you could stand, he was doting for a government agent.

After that you were stuck with him, or was he stuck with you? Either way, your father — the scientist that refused to replicate a cure unless his dear daughter was rescued — gave you explicit instructions to stay at his side at all, times. Doesn’t matter if you had to piss, shit, or change— you were to stay in his sight no matter what.

Overall, you would give your Osaka trip a solid two out of ten.

You groaned a bit as your face came in contact with his strong back, hurriedly placing a hand over your aching nose. “What’s wr—“ You moved around to see infront of your path, only for your heart to drop. There were three undead walking aimlessly between the wrecked cars, bumping into them on account of their lost senses. The smell was disgusting, let alone the way blood trickled from their mouths and other body parts. The way a human body still stood despite several bullet wounds in its chest was.. disturbing to you.

Your fingers came to clutch Nanami’s shirt, the man reaching an arm back as if to cover you. Whilst the other was placed on his hip, right where his pistol remained. “They haven’t seen us.. yet.” The man murmured, wary of being heard. His eyes peered around, searching for a way or some path— you quickly doing the same, fingers still crumbling his stained dress shirt.

Finally his body turned, glancing at you. “We’ll have to go around that building..”

“What? Nanami you have a gun! Just aim right—“

“I rather not risk alerting more infected nearby.” He spoke, watching you carefully. You sucked your teeth, arms crossed but nodding. That did make sense, you have to admit. No wonder you were the mission and he was the agent.

Nanami straightened his body, reaching for your wrist gently. “Come on.” He spoke, leading you slowly. With each step his and your eyes were darting in front of you and back to the three infected still walking around aimlessly. You flinched a little as your foot pressed against something far too squishy, far too wet— your hand pressing against your mouth to cover your small disgusted squeal.

A squeeze to your wrist quickly diverted your attention, spotting Nanami turned to you with a serious expression. “Focus on me, (Y/N).. It’s alright.” You slowly nodded at his words, coming even closer to his form as you continued towards and soon around the building.

Luckily there wasn’t any infected nearby, Nanami releasing your wrist once the danger was gone. Despite this the man was still wary, looking around every so often to assure nothing was sneaking up on you. You kept your arms wrapped tight around yourself, copying Nanami’s movements.

Though, your head began to hurt a little from the constant back and forth.

You turned forward, lips pressed together before speeding up to walk beside him. “So.. did you ever imagine this would happen? You know.. some type of apocalypse?”

Nanami glanced at you for a moment before his gaze moved forward, a soft breath escaping him. “No.” He spoke simply, continuing his powerful strides that you struggled to keep up with. You nodded slowly, glancing down for a split moment whilst simply caressing your skin.

“Ever thought you’d have to save a scientist’s drunk daughter?”

Despite how little it was, a breath of amusement escaped the man, shaking his head. “No.” He answered again. You gave a weak smile, arms falling to your sides shortly after.

“Do you.. regret saving me?”

No more words were spoken for a few moments, the only sound being your shoes pressing into the Earth below. You took this badly, heart beating hard against your chest as your teeth tugged onto your bottom lip. You’ve always spoke too much for your own good, a trait you’ve hated since it developed. Fingers twitched nervously, eyes dancing about the ground as if suddenly interested in the blood stained pavement.

Your eyes peeled away, however— the moment you heard Nanami release a breath.

“No.. and it’s not because I was assigned to rescue you.”

His words caused confusion to bloom within you, head tilting to glance at his expressionless face. You didn’t know this man, his goals or what he did before he came to save you. For all you know he could be lying.. possibly falsifying your father’s voice or something crazy. Anything for some cash. Yet his words, you could tell the man was genuine; simply from his tone and posture, he meant it.

“Why?.. You have no obligation to me.” A cynical chuckle escaped you, glancing down at your feet once more. “I doubt anyone would give you any grief if you left me on the side of the road.”

You flinched as his footsteps came to a sharp halt, body turning to face you. His gaze settled onto your features, a hardened stare that caused you to look away once it became too much. Finally, Nanami spoke; “If you’re looking for me to call you useless or a mistake, I will not. You are neither of those and thinking of yourself as such is counterproductive.” Nanami stepped closer, causing your breath to hitch and eyes to widen. “We will continue down this path, together— until I bring your father his daughter back in one piece.” His eyes softened for a split second, head tilted to the side as he took you in. “Okay?”

You slowly nodded, gulping thickly the moment his eyebrows rose. “Okay.” You murmured, watching him nod back and turn forward once more. Your shoulders fell, hand pressed against your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat. For the first time in days, a little genuine smile lifted your lips.

You two continued to walk for what it seemed like hours, taking short breaks between buildings; you seated on some random trash can or barrel whilst he stood against the wall— glancing to assure nothing popped out.

As the sunset the two of you ended up in a neighborhood, your eyes focusing on the houses; a small grimace taking over your features. The crashed cars, the bloody bikes.. it was all too much. You could just imagine the way families rushed to get away, only to not make it farther then their doorstep.

You quickly shook your head, deciding such thoughts will only depress you further. And whilst attempting to pull those thoughts from your mind, a single raindrop fell onto your skull.

Your head turned to the sky, watching as the clouds darkened and more rain began to fall. You groaned softly, hand rising as if to cover the pouring water. Which of course, proved useless.

“Nanami,” You called, catching up to place a hand to his back. “We have to find somewhere to stay, this rain will make it harder to see.” You heard a soft grunt above the rain, watching his wet head turn back and forth in search of secure shelter. Your tongue clicked however, annoyed by how long the search was taking.

You looked around, soon lifting your hand towards a small white house that looked untouched. “There!” You huffed, legs moving before the man could reply. You made your way over, Nanami on your heels; sighing once you made it on the porch, covered by the rain. When you went for the doorknob, Nanami’s hand covered your own— causing your eyes to snap over to his face.

“Don’t run off like that again.” He spoke, glancing down at you seriously. You slowly nodded, hand loosening from the doorknob as the man came to stand in front of you. With a deep breath he turned it, pleasantly surprised it was unlocked.

And another reason Nanami wished to go first.

Lifting his flashlight, the man shined it inside the house; scanning the area for any sign of danger. Despite how untouched it looked from outside, it was certainly different in the actual house. Dried blood was caked on the hard wood floors, decorative carpet upturned and a mess whilst the couches were angled oddly. A struggle had clearly happened.

You clung to Nanami as you passed through the threshold, the man closing and locking the door behind you. He breathed a bit, turning to you whilst passing you the flashlight. “The living room looks secure, but I’ll check the back rooms.”

“What, alone!?” You hissed softly, reaching for him the moment he turned to leave. “We have to stick together.”

Nanami carefully grabbed the hand holding him, lifting it away as he looked at you gently. “It’ll be quick, I promise. Just sit on the couch and scream if you need me.” He coaxed you slowly towards said furniture, watching you sink into the surprisingly soft cushion. Noting your discouraged expression the man gave a gentle smile, hand rising to squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be alright (Y/N).”

You nodded slowly, watching as he grasped a much smaller flashlight from his pocket, heading towards the back of the house. You turned forward, standing from the couch and walking towards the fireplace against the wall. The bright light shined on the framed pictures, pretty decor, and knick knacks lining the top of it. Your eyes focused on the little family portrait, sighing softly. You imagined they got out, all of them; and they were somewhere safe, together.

But, of course, that was wishful thinking. There was no way they survived.

Your hands curled around the frame, pushing it facedown. You moved on towards the dining room, gaze zoning in the candles settled in the middle of the red decorative cover. You picked one up, hurriedly looking around and smiling the moment you found a lighter. Placing the flashlight on the table, you picked the last three candles and lighter, heading back to the couch.

You placed the candles onto the coffee table while sitting down, lighting them one by one. They weren’t too bright but it was enough, definitely better then the flashlight.

Once you heard heavy footsteps heading in your direction you turned, smiling up at the man who approached the couch. Your eyes zoned in at the pile of sheets and blankets, the man placing it on the cushion beside you. Once done he hooked a finger behind him,

“The first bathroom’s water is working. You could probably wash up.”

A shower! The way your eyes sparkled you would have thought he said a helicopter was coming to grab the two of you. But no, this was much better. The thought of ridding yourself of three day grime and smell was enough to nearly bring tears to your eyes. You didn’t care if you had to pull dirty clothes the following morning, you just wanted to feel a little clean.

You hopped to your feet, following the man once he turned to the back of the house. Approaching the bathroom, you pushed the door opened, sighing heavily and glancing around. There wasn’t much, a simple half opened bottle of body wash and a towel. But, it was enough.

“I’ll make some food for when you come out. Don’t take too long.”

“Okay!”

Despite his words you spent a good thirty minutes under the water. You didn’t even care if it was cold, it just felt so good washing it all away. The dirt, the smell, and much more. You nearly shed a tear, given this was the only peace you’ve felt in days. After scrubbing your body and rinsing for about the fourth time, you shut the water off, exiting the tub and wrapping the towel right around your body. You grabbed your pile of clothes, heading out of the bathroom and towards the living room.

Nanami turned the moment he heard your footsteps, eyes quickly falling to the ground when he noticed your state. “Your food.. it’s, right here.” He spoke, hearing you walk around — dropping your dirty clothes in a corner along the way — sitting on the cushion beside him.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, a simple plate of rice, beans, and unidentifiable meat. But, you were grateful. You grabbed the plate, scooping some in your spoon and taking a bite. It wasn’t that good, the rice a little undercooked and meat having little flavor. But again, you were grateful.

Nanami watched as you ate, coaxing you to slow down so you didn’t choke; a little smile tugging his lips when you didn’t listen, resulting in a few coughs to escape you. He grabbed a water bottle near by, passing it to you so you could take a few sips. During this the man stood, wiping his pants.

“I’ll go take a shower now, you should try to get some sleep. Also— I think the couch pulls out.”

You gave a small okay, watching as he walked around the couch towards the bathroom. You placed your water bottle down, leaning against the couch and gliding your hand across your towel covered stomach. A small sigh escaped you, lips curled. For once, you could actually get some nice sleep.

No leaning against dirty walls, the rain drowned out whatever groaning infected were nearby, and you were sure the couch would be nice and plush.

Rising from your seat, you pushed the coffee table closer to the fire place, turning to grab the cushions and toss them away from you. Your eyes zoned in at the bar, pulling it— turning the couch into a pullout with some effort. “Finally.” You breathed, walking over to the pile put to the side, grabbing a sheet and flinging it over the bed.

Once satisfied you grabbed a blanket, — leaving a sheet for Nanami — placing it on the bed. You glanced down at your attire for a moment before a small screw it, went through your mind; pulling your towel off and letting it bundle on the floor. Crawling onto the bed, you pulled the blanket over your body.

Using your arms as a makeshift pillow, you sighed a bit, eyes closing and sinking into the mattress. Maybe you could convince Nanami to stay for another day. You could probably find a vehicle amongst the many houses. More supplies? These thoughts lulled you to sleep, exhaustion covering your body as darkness took over your vision.

You don’t know what time it was when you woke up, or why you woke up exactly. You planned to sleep the entire night but your body unfortunately had different plans. Tugging your blanket closer to your body, you turned; spotting the candles still lit, wax collecting on the coffee table. Your gaze carried, jumping a little when you spot Nanami rested in the loveseat, chest uncovered with a sheet tied loosely around his waist.

That wasn’t the problem, his dark eyes boring into your own was.

“Have you been awake this whole time?”

Nanami seemed to snap out of his trance, adjusting in the seat as he nodded slowly. You pursed your lips a bit, sitting up whilst pressing the blanket against your chest. “You could have joined me here. I doubt the seat is comfortable.”

“That would be.. inappropriate.”

“How so?”

Nanami shook his head, glancing away from you as he again— adjusted himself in that damned seat. You bit the inside of your cheek, landing back against the bed with a huff. “There’s no way you can effectively protect me without sleep, Nanami. You’ll be dragging like those walking corpses outside.”

Your words lingered in the air for a moment, a silence covering the room before you heard a deep sigh escape the man. He lifted his body from the chair, waltzing over to you. You smiled a bit, scooting away to give him some room, feeling the mattress sink in beside you as he laid down.

You turned to face him, fingers clutching your blanket as you took in his form. You didn’t want to admit was a delightful sight, the man sculpted nicely; clearly a disciplined individual. Your gaze lowered, shamelessly tracing his v-line peeking out from under the thin sheets. Luckily his eyes were closed, or else you would be embarrassed.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me, (Y/N).”

You flinched, watching his eyes blink open and stare at you. “Sorry.” You murmured, gripping the blanket a little more. A silence passed between the two of you, simply laying there and glancing at each other.

You finally broke the silence, “You know.. this is kind of romantic.” You watched him lift a thin eyebrow, feeling your chest pound and cheeks warm. “The candles, the laying together..”

Nanami sucked in a breath, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yes, and the undead walking outside adds a nice touch.”

“Exactly!” You spoke, a soft giggle escaping you shortly after. You leaned your cheek against the back of your hand, smiling sweetly at the man. The warmth in your face traveled to your stomach as he continued to stare at you, discreetly stealing gazes to your covered form. “I think.. if we met on different circumstances, I would have loved to go on an actual date with you.”

The man blinked in surprise, eyes widening just a bit. You wondered if you made him uncomfortable, given he stiffened and quickly glanced away from you. You opened your mouth to apologize, only for the man to cut you off;

“I would have loved to take you out on one.”

You felt the warmth within you grow hotter, teeth pressing down against your bottom lip. Your eyes fell to his arm, reaching over; gasping as the man rose to grasp your hand. The distant between you shortened as Nanami drew closer, your body sweltering at this point.

“Nanami..”

“Kento.. call me Kento.” He breathed, leaning to plant his lips against yours in an experimental kiss. The moment you didn’t pull away he was all in, hand releasing your wrist to instead glide up your exposed arm to the back of your neck, collecting it and tilting you how he liked. Your hand clung to his arm, breathing softly as the kiss deepened.

You found yourself turning onto your back, the man hovering above you, large frame covering you. The kiss continued, you gasping softly the moment his tongue entered your mouth; delicately playing and sucking at your own wet muscle. Your hips rose, feeling him through the thin sheet still wrapped loosely around his waist. The man groaned in response to this, hand sliding around to gently hold your throat.

Pulling away, Kento glanced down at you, forehead pressed against you. “I shouldn’t..” Turmoil warped the man, struggling. He wanted nothing more to kiss you again, to make you feel better then you have in the past few days. And yet, he knew this was wrong. You were his mission, someone he had to protect, nothing more. Growing attached.. wanting more, would prove disastrous.

But, even as the reasonable thoughts entered his mind, they faded the moment he looked at you. Your lips pressed together, eyes shining up at him, waiting ever so patiently for his next more. Your warm hands were placed on his arms, gripping them as if afraid to let go. Nanami struggled, he did— feeling himself ready to lift away from you.

Unfortunately, a soft, sweet “Kento” escaped your plump lips, rendering the logical side of his brain useless. Without thinking he was leaning down again, planting his lips against yours harsher then before. The action caused a soft moan to escape your throat, nails digging into his skin whilst bliss covered your body.

Lips moving, hands moving; his fingers curling on the edge of your blanket, slowly tugging it down your form to reveal your naked body to him. Kento pulled back, a glossy string connecting your lips together as his eyes cascaded down your form.

Your face flushed, reaching to grab his cheek. “Don’t stare so much..” You murmured, gasping as his hand ghosted down your body, fingers sinking into your hip.

“Why not? Every inch of you deserves to be appreciated.” The man breathed, leaning back on his hunches, hands faltering to your thighs and spreading them to wrap around his waist. “You’re beautiful.. I thought so the moment I saw you in that hotel room.”

You shook your head with a small smile, glancing up at him. “When I was drunk and obnoxious?”

Nanami smiled at you, hand squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Yes.” He confirmed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your collarbone. The feathery affection trailed down your heated skin, arousing soft breaths and gasps to escape you. Kento’s lips found your right nipple, sucking gently, pushing closer when you jumped.

The pleasure trickled down between your thighs, his hand grasping your absent breast. His thumb pressed against your hardened nipple, tweaking it between his fingers all while continuing to suck and tongue the other. Your hips rose in search of friction, which Nanami rewarded, pressing a thigh between your legs for you to grind on.

Your eyes pinched close, melting into the bed as your hands gripped at his hair. As good as that felt you wanted, needed more. You ground against his thigh, fingers slipping through his previously washed hair. “Kento, please..”

He pulled away from your chest with a soft pop, all while his fingers continued to move on the other. “Use your words, princess. What do you want?”

“More please— fuck..” You hissed softly as his thigh pressed right up against your center, gripping him even closer. “Wanna feel you, Ken. I need you so bad.” You whimpered, glancing up at the man.

Kento swore softly, taking in your beautiful expression. You were so open, laid out for him perfectly and begging for him. Such an image got him hard, tip leaking with excitement. He released your chest, dragging his kisses lower and lower until he met your mound.

Despite how eager he was to give you what you craved, he refused to leave you unprepared. The thought of hurting you outweighed his lust greatly.

So, the man used two thick fingers to spread you open, tongue gliding across your little bud. The action caused a gasp to fall from your lips, thighs threatening to close as he continued the pleasurable treatment, rubbing and sucking your clit raw. Your hands gripped at his hair tightly, rising your hips to push your pussy into his face more, shamelessly moving your hips.

Nanami enjoyed it all, hands falling to your ass to grip, face flush against your heat. His tongue lapped up your arousal, dragging his tongue in places that made you see stars. The moment you felt two fingers prodding at your wet entrance however, you were lost; crying out as the thick digits sunk into you.

He curled them, pushing up against your velvety walls and hitting a sweet spot that made stars collect in your eyes. Desperately, your hips shook, moans rising in pitch as you felt your stomach clench from the pleasure. “Kento.. ah—“ You cried out, feeling his lips wrap around your hard clit and suck, harshly.

Little tears threatened to spill over, legs closing around his head as a string of moans escaped you. Moments passed before you came, clamping down on his fingers and painting his face with your mess. Nanami’s fingers continued to move through your high, wrist flexing with each push and pull inside your sweet cunt.

Your legs shook, back arching as a soft overstimulated cry escaped you. “Mm— I can’t..”

Nanami pulled away from your clit, thumb quickly replacing his lips. His fingers scissored inside you, stretching and prepping you carefully. “I know you can, almost there pretty..” The man mused, pace quickening, ignoring your smaller fingers clinging to his wrist. The soft squelches of your wet cunt would have embarrassed you if you didn’t feel so good, head pressed against the bed as melodic moans escaped you.

A few more thrusts of his fingers passed before you came again, tainting his digits in your mess. Only this time he removed them, hand rising to lick off his arousal as if your taste was a delicacy. To him, it was, having half a mind to dive back between your legs for more.

Instead, Nanami hovered above your body, forearm pressed above your head whilst his forehead rested against yours own. He warmed the moment your hands dragged to his shoulders, watching your eyebrows push together and a small whine escape you. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your lips, whilst his hand leaned down, tugging the thin sheet off his body.

Your legs rose to hang loosely on his hips, gasping as you felt his shaft glide through your folds. As you continued to kiss the man continued to rub himself against your pussy, coating himself in your arousal. You tried to wait patiently, knowing he wouldn’t listen to you even if you tried to rush him.

Once satisfied, Nanami leaning down to grab his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he sunk in; breathing as your sweet walls hugged his length. You whimpered from the stretch, scratching at his shoulders at the slight pain and pressure. Nanami was attentive, continuing to kiss you all while whispering soft words against your lips.

“So good for me.. taking me so well. Mm— relax.. fuck, relax— princess.” He stuttered a bit, eyebrows pinched close as his hips continued slowly. Soon enough he was all the way in, shuddering at the feeling. Nanami settled for a moment, allowing you to rest and catch your breath.

You huffed softly, eyes peering at where you two were connected and back to his face— him already staring at you. You gave a coy smile, warming the minute his hand brushed your cheek. Your hips rose to signal you were fine, Nanami breathing a bit but allowing his hand to fall to your hip.

Slowly, the man dragged his own back, allowing only the tip to reside inside of you. With a single thrust a sharp moan escaped you, bringing him even closer to your body. His slow, languid thrusts continued, allowing you to feel every inch of his length; dragging across your walls and splitting you open so nicely. Your eyes found the back of your skull, beautiful sounds escaped your raw throat, walls clenching with every single thrust.

Kento wasn’t any better, eyes closed as you consumed his body. You felt way too fucking good, to the point the man felt as if he would go crazy if he continued. The way you clung to him, your smell, and as he opened his— your expression, fuck.. the thought of you being nothing more than a mission left his mind quickly.

The man lowered, thrusting deeper as his gentle and slowness flew out the window, thrusts quickening. The new pace caused your eyes to fly open, harsh moans escaped you as your nails dug into his skin. “Kento, Kento—!” You whimpered out, feeling the man leaning down to press wet kisses against your neck. Your thighs locked around his waist, squelches of your messy cunt covering the room.

Your arousal trickled down his length, forming a sticky white ring around the base of his cock. Thrusting, ruining you, it didn’t take long for your stomach to clench, eyes glossy as you creamed all over dick. Your arms wrapped around his neck, breath fanning against his face as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Kento gritted his teeth, fingers digging into your plush skin. “So good.. fuck, you feel so damn good, (Y/N).“ He spoke on hushed breath, cock twitching as he felt his end approaching. Without thinking his hands were dragging under your thighs, pushing them up to press against your chest.

The new position pulled him deeper inside you, tip brushing your cervix with each thrust, the pain melting as the pleasure consumed you. You were rendered useless under him, trapped under his weight with no place to run. Like you wanted to anyway. Despite how sore you were, how absolutely fucked out you were, you didn’t care. Your eyes rolling back, incoherent babbles escaping you as he turned your brain to mush.

It was no surprise you were coming again, harsher then before; making a complete mess under you. Kento groaned at this, your pretty walls fluttering around him pushing him over the edge— driving himself deep and filling you up.

You whined softly, nails digging into him as he gave a few more pumps inside you, hips soon slowing down. Heavy pants entered the room, simply grabbing onto one another, as if scared to let go.

Soon, Kento regained his breath, gulping as the reality of the situation sunk into his mind. Not only did he have inappropriate relations with you, he finished inside. He should be upset with himself, pulling out and quickly cleaning up as if to elevate the consequences. Instead, as his eyes landed on your beautiful features; your sweet smile, how content you looked under him, his anxiety left. Any consequence he had to deal with, was worth it.

Kento, would deal with anything for you.

The man slowly pulled out, hissing softly as he watched his cum flow out of your pretty cunt. Hands smoothing across your thighs, Kento leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He promised, lifting from the bed and walking to the back of the house.

You eased your legs onto the bed, shivering at the slightly sore feeling. Despite this, your smile grew, turning onto your side and giggling a little to yourself.

This wasn’t an ideal situation at all. You a mission, him a government agent— together surviving against the undead outside. But, you wouldn’t have it any either way.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

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bunnybubae · 7 months

Text

(M)🚦Red Light: The Fear | Ch1 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past you'll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It's a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile. Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: This chapter describes an episode of harassment (it involves an unwanted kiss), please be aware of this if this theme makes you uncomfortable, description of past emotional abuse (manipulation, toxic jealousy), Angst, mention of alcohol consumption, Oc's ex is a stalker, cops are grossly negligent in this au, Tae and Hani to the rescue, Jk is hot af but this is nothing new.

Wc: 7.4k

A/N: Hello there! I've been planning this whole series for over a year and I'm finally able to make it come to life, slowly but surely! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻

Let me know what you think about the series, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

September 12th, Tuesday

The sun has already set, leaving the place to the colors of dusk.

You feel that your heart might explode in your chest at any moment. Is it the september evening breeze that's causing the chills covering your skin, or if it's all due to this visceral fear that's blocking your muscles right now? You can't quite tell.

After some extra hours at work, you thought you could finally close the tattoo shop in peace and go home to enjoy some leftover pizza in front of your laptop, but no- Ray evidently had other plans for you, deciding to unexpectedly visit you in the most unpleasant way possible.

You wish Hani had stayed a little longer today to close the shop with you, because this sickening feeling it's becoming unbearable. You feel like a mouse in front of a ravenous cat and you want to scream, but you just don't find the courage to do it.

He caught you off guard from behind, while you were looking for the keys in your bag, then he effortlessly spun you around on the spot and you found yourself blocked by your shoulders leaning against the entrance door of the shop.

Your throat tightens as you struggle to breathe regularly.

You're helpless and right now the only thing you can do is curse the day you replied to his message on Instagram, curse the invitation to participate at that damn workshop you and Hani organized for an exchange of advertising between tattoo artists. You can only curse that day and the following ones you spent with him. Of course you couldn't imagine that your perfect relationship would turn into such a nightmare, your ex used to be so kind and loving with you at the beginning, not even close to the obsessive, pleading mess that's keeping you trapped in utter fear right now. Jealousy can sometimes turn into such an obsession evidently, it can change people and you never expected something like this to happen in your life. Everything only got worse when after almost a year in your toxic relationship, you found the courage to finally break up with him.

Weeks had passed since the last time Ray had disgusted you with his threatening messages and unexpected visits during work, you were almost convinced he had found another hobby but as a matter of fact, you were wrong.

He understood that you can ignore his messages or even block his number for good, that you won't listen to him when Hani or your clients are around, but you certainly won't be able to ignore his forced presence, especially now that you're totally alone. He knows he has your undivided attention in this way.

He slurs something but you can't even pay attention. His inked arms are situated on each side of your head, while he looks down at you with desperate eyes. You don't even recognize him anymore. He used to take extra care of his appearance and health back when you two used to date, but now it seems like he is facing a grave problem with drinking. His body is close to yours, way too close for your liking and his warm breath mixed with whatever alcohol he drank, almost makes you gag.

The smell of his cologne is the only thing that's still the same and that you recognize, it hits your nostrils and it brings back memories that now only hurt.

“Y/N, baby- why do you keep ignoring me like this?” his voice is strained and his face is contorted in anger- or nostalgia, you can't even tell. "You're killing me and I always treated you well" He is trying to stop the thoughts that are clouding his mind, slurring out the words breathlessly.

"I fucking miss you! I don't know what else to do to make you mine again!"

These words are filled with desperation and you hate it, his need for possession is crystal clear in his statements. He threatened you multiple times saying that if you didn't get back together he would harm himself, claiming that the pain was too strong for him to bear, but he never said he wanted you back because he loved you, not even once. The only thing that he misses is controlling you, the only thing that he loves is taking away everything from you, putting himself at the center of your world.

He only wants to call you his, like a mere emotionless object. You hate it, you hate him.

He probably never wanted to take care of your heart as you believed and the realization that you were in love with him once, that his twisted feelings were strong for you but not in a healthy way, it makes you sick to your stomach. You should have known better, but you were blinded by your feelings.

There was a moment when you thought that you deserved this treatment, you told yourself that you allowed all of this because you were too naive to notice that those toxic feelings were poisoning your persona, till it was too late and they suffocated you, caging you.

"G-get away from me" you manage to say in a small voice as your heart thunders in your ears. Your stomach twists in a knot when you sense his moving hands. The fear turns into pure horror when his hands find their way to rest on your cheeks a little too harshly and you instinctively hold your breath.

His drunken lips crash into yours with urgency, and you feel like you might throw up at all the disgusting sensations you are experiencing right now. Your body reacts of its own accord, rejecting this desperate, unwanted kiss before he could deepen it or do something worse.

“I said get away from me!” you scream in a broken voice as you try to push him away with all the strength you possess.

Ray is looking at you, almost surprised that you had the courage to reject him. Despite your effort he doesn't budge much, it's like his feet are planted to the ground.

You're not able to meet his bloodshot eyes as you desperately try to free yourself. He's mumbling something that you can't quite comprehend and then his heavy hands are pushing your shoulders against the cold glass of the shop entrance, once again.

You didn't know you were crying until your vision started to blur with tears. This feeling of helplessness is the same one that kept you stuck in Ray's twisted love for months.

Red flags were scattered all around, he started by making you doubt your abilities as an artist to then insistently ask you to pass all your male clients to Hani, co-owner of the shop as well as your best friend ever since you were children. She was the one who covered up your lies with Ray, as you tried to keep your clients aways from his madness.

He bulldozed everything around you, but Hani always stayed by your side, refusing to believe Ray's lies. She was your sturdy pillar when everything around you was falling apart.

It was when Ray began to spread heavy lies about her, to lead you to break the agreements and contract with her, that you finally understood the gravity of the situation, that he was capable of totally ruining your life if you allowed him to manipulate you further.

The threatening texts and stalking episodes that followed are nothing compared to what keeping a relationship with him could have entailed.

You're not sure when Ray started behaving in a toxic manner, cause you still remember the rosy beginning of your relationship and everything was just fine. Hani says she started noticing changes when he decided to surprise you one day at the shop and found the both of you engaged in a simple conversation with some male regulars. This evidently made him very jealous, because from that moment, the ordeal began.

Your thoughts and sobbing are interrupted when Ray goes from mumbling pleas to insulting you with hatred, while his hands squeeze your shoulders as if to make sure to imprint on your skin all that he is feeling for you.

You're not sure how you managed to free yourself from his grip, next thing you know you're running with all the strength you have left in your body, abandoning the alley of the shop to find a safer place. You hear him calling your name a couple of times as you put more and more distance between you. You fear that he might follow you and block you once again and the mere thought of finding yourself defenseless in the arms that once wrapped you with apparent affection, is enough to make new tears flow down your cheeks.

The streets are almost empty and after reaching one that is well illuminated by shop signs, you look around to make sure he is not after you. When you make sure he is nowhere to be found, you grab your phone with shaky hands to call your best friend. You keep walking down the sidewalk as you try to calm your crying.

“Y/N?”

After a few rings, Hani answers the phone and hearing her voice ruins your desperate attempt to stay calm. You let out a liberating cry as you tell her that Ray really went too far this time.

You knew that Hani had a date with her boyfriend, Taehyung, who she met several months ago at the shop. Tae got a tattoo from her and from that moment they became inseparable. You knew they were going out to dinner and you feel bad ruining their date like this, but they are the only people you can trust who know everything about your struggles with your ex.

Hani speaks quickly but gently on the phone, she clearly tries to keep calm while she tells you to go to the bar that you often visit after work, located just a few minutes away from the shop. She reassures you, telling you that they would be there as soon as possible.

“Don't hang up until you get there, okay?” Hani adds, she can probably sense how shaken you are by what just happened and leaving you alone, even if it's over the phone, is out of question.

“I'm almost there,” you reply weakly through your sobs as you keep walking. You dry your face and try to normalize your breathing when you reach the small street where the bar is located. It's a quiet little place that holds countless memories for you and Hani, it was there that you and her celebrated the purchase of your tattoo shop a few years ago and it's where you return whenever you feel the need to unplug for a moment, while remaining in an familiar environment that makes you feel at ease.

You walk through the entrance still holding your phone to your ear. The warmth hits your limbs pleasantly while lounge music and the smell of beer begin to envelop you like a blanket.

On the other end of the phone you hear a loud windy noise and you deduce that Hani has already gotten on the motorcycle with Tae and that they are therefore about to arrive.

You feel a little calmer.

You end the call, knowing that Hani can't hear you and instead you opt for a text, informing her you'll wait for them at your usual spot.

When you scan the place, you're glad it's only a tuesday as there are only a few people. You reach the slightly more secluded area of the place and you sit at your favorite table. The place is filled with fairy lights hanging above your head, their light hitting the brickstone of the walls and the wooden furniture just right, giving a cozy vibe that you always liked.

You then take off your jacket and your bag before sitting down, glad to have some dividers shielding you as you feel the aftermath of the adrenaline rush coming to you, all your strength drains away. Your shoulders ache from the tension and because of Ray's grip on them, your feet throb from the wild run and your heart continues to beat like a concert is taking place inside your ribs. You lean on the table with your elbows as you bring your hands to your head to massage your temples.

How could you ever imagine to find yourself in a similar situation?

You naively refused to believe that Ray was capable of hurting you in any way. He was too sweet and helpful with you at the beginning to think he was evil, your shared passion for arts was the core of your relationship and you also learned something new about the art of tattooing thanks to him. You were grateful for all the help he gave you in the shop. Ray is also objectively hot and the physical attraction and sexual chemistry were very strong between you.

Everything was pretty perfect.

Too much indeed, to the point that thinking about it now you wonder how you didn't notice how much the whole thing was stinking a mile away. You couldn't imagine that behind his perfect appearance and behavior, there was such an obsessed manipulator. You truly believed that he loved you like you loved him.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands. Whatever he has done now, you're sick to ask help from the cops, they did nothing useful when you needed them in the past.

"We can't handcuff a guy without clear evidence that he's acting in bad faith, he's a heartbroken young man trying to win his girlfriend back!"

These were the words they said only two months ago, when you tried to report his constant messages and stalking episodes. Nobody did anything. They dwelt mostly on the threats he sent, on the fact that he said he was going to hurt himself if you didn't answer or consider getting back together with him and they also didn't think his repeated visits were something to worry about, since he used to do that when you were still together, in their opinion.

They even had the courage to tell you that you guys are young, that people are made to make mistakes and learn from them and all that bullshit people say when they need to give air to their mouths.

They made him seem like the victim here and you are so sick to deal with this bullshit, you'd rather lock yourself home and never get out than asking their useless help once again.

You don't feel safe anyway, neither without nor with them.

You've resigned to the idea that you can't count on them and that you must do something yourself, but what can you do against a much taller and stronger guy?

You shiver at the thought but then your attention is drawn by a soft voice.

“Hey,” when you lift your head, your gaze softens as it meets your best friend's face. She promptly sits next to you without even taking off her motorcycle jacket and gloves and she pulls you into her arms.

"I swear if I see him around I'll gouge out his eyes and make earrings out of them."

Hani states as she continues to soothe you in her embrace. A little smile creeps on your face, mostly because you know that she would be perfectly capable of doing what she just said.

She is scary sometimes, but you love her nonetheless.

You feel an extra hand caressing your shoulder "That's a creepy way to do some recycling but I approve" Taehyung adds in a lighter tone, when you move to look at him you notice he is looking down at you with a sad smile on his face.

Since Tae started dating Hani, he has become a dear friend to you, you love the natural way he takes care of her, and you appreciate the several times he came to your rescue, having a fight with Ray to defend you. He is a good friend. You smile at him but the smile doesn't reach your puffy reddened eyes.

It's nice to know that your friends are always there for you, you feel so helpless though, so fragile right now.

Tae orders the usual for the three of you and some snacks from a passing waiter, and then he joins you and Hani at the table, both of them ready to listen to you.

“Thank you guys for coming- I'm sorry I ruined your date.” you feel guilty and your voice is still trembling a little bit.

“Don't even joke about it, Y/N.” Tae's tone is almost scolding as he fixes their motorcycle jackets next to him.

“You know that Tae and I see each other almost every day," Hani says "You don't have to worry about that.”

“It's just that I- I never felt so weak before” you admit as your eyes begin to shine again, unshed tears gathering on the rim of your lower eyelid, threatening to fall at any moment.

“I tried to push him away when he kissed me.” the memory of his lips on yours makes you shudder, so much so that you can't believe that there was a time instead when you craved those lips all over your body.

"I was barely able to push him off of me." Hani and Tae keep listening, anger readable on their faces as you recount what happened. You manage to speak on the verge of crying, your eyes glimmer but this time you find the strength to keep your tears at bay. You feel anger taking over your fear right now, that's probably why you refuse to cry over your disgusting ex and his demeanor yet again.

Hani interjects, stating that she'll do all the closing at the shop with you from now on, adding that she's starting to consider buying you some pepper spray, so you can empty it on his face if he shows up again.

The waiter returns with your orders and some water, telling you to call him back if you need anything else. He seems to have noticed your mood and doesn't want to interfere too much while remaining at your service anyway. You thank him with a warm smile before he goes back to doing his job elsewhere.

“Pepper spray is a good idea and you should buy it if it makes you feel a little safer," Tae begins "but I have another idea.” he adds before sipping his drink.

“I have a friend who races with me who also owns a gym, he even teaches kids how to throw good punches and stuff.”

You had almost completely forgotten that Tae participates in a regional motorcycle racing championship every year, Hani did nothing but talk about it at the beginning of their relationship.

Hani nods vigorously after taking a sip of her own drink, agreeing with her boyfriend.

"It wouldn't be a bad idea actually!" she says “Punching the shit out of that dick head would be even more satisfying!”

Tae fishes his wallet out of his jacket pocket and then rummages through its folds. When he finds what he was looking for, he places a business card on the table and pushes it towards you.

"Jungkook took care of the gym full time before also dedicating himself to racing" he explains "Now there is a guy who helps him with the management, but he prefers to take care of the main courses himself"

You collect the business card while pondering what to do. Taking some boxing lessons might help you boost your confidence, your strength and it might be a good distraction as well.

"It's not that far from the shop" you recognize the name of the gym having passed in front of it a few times while you wanted to buy breakfast in a nearby coffee shop before your shift at work. You could use the opportunity to learn something new that you could also use to your advantage if needed.

You listen while Tae tries to explain what he knows about the gym, telling you that his friend Jungkook mainly handles the children's class in the early afternoon and the adult's class that starts at 7pm. That wouldn't be bad for you, since your closing time is around 6 pm, cleaning up and preparing the shop for the next day won't take much time.

“If you decide to try, tell him I sent you,” Tae continues “I can already tell you tho- Jungkook loves to joke, sometimes a little too much, but he's a good guy and knows how to be serious when necessary”

You slightly nod, looking back at the piece of paper in your hands.

You can try, and if you don't like it you can always leave.

You can grab an uber or whatever to reach the place and to go back home. It should be fine if you book it a little earlier, so you don't have to wait alone outside.

"Okay," you suddenly say "I think I'll give it a try."

Hani and Tae both smile, visibly content with your choice.

"Do you want me to walk you there?" Hani asks "It'll be a 30ish minute walk" You accept Hani's proposal without thinking too much.

"How about thursday?" you add "We can go together and then I'll get organized with uber and stuff"

Hani agrees, then she drifts her attention to Tae, who starts to discuss with her the time and place he will be coming to pick her up after she drops you at the gym.

The evening continues normally, you regain your tranquility bit by bit, even tho there is always a pinch of sadness and anger bothering you in the back of your mind. Sharing some quiet moments with your friends managed to cheer you up enough to genuinely laugh at the silly bickering between the two lovebirds.

You can't help but wonder if you'll be able to get over this mess anytime soon.

When it's time to go home, Hani decides that she will be spending the night with you at the apartment you once shared for more than a year, before she started to crash often at Tae's.

Ray could always decide to make the situation worse by showing up at your door, you think. If he decides to do so, Hani could create those famous eyeballs-earrings much sooner, she said. The joke makes you all chuckle, you are happy to have them by your side, gosh- you truly are grateful.

Spending time with them definitely improved your mood and you feel like you can overcome this bad period of your life, with time and patience.

You thank Tae who waited for your uber to arrive before putting on his helmet and get on his motorcycle.

You feel incredibly tired but hopeful, this new experience could really help you on multiple fronts.

September 14th, Thursday

When you wake up, you feel like you've slept for barely 2 hours, but it's been like this since the whole stalking shit started, so. You lack your usual enthusiasm, that unbridled desire to create works of art on other people's skin, it's slowly vanishing away and that worries you.

You do your best to react though. The day goes by better than yesterday, your appointments at the shop flow smoothly one after the other and some potential customers have come to ask for some info on the costs of piercings, something Hani mainly manages.

You keep your mood up to meet your customers' requests, to smile and make them feel comfortable.

You are finishing the last touches on the skin of your last client of the day when, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall, you realize that soon it will be time to close, you shudder a little even if you know that Hani will close the shop with you this time, it's been only two days after all, the events are still too fresh. You let the buzzing sound of the pen distract you as you fill the last bit of skin with ink.

In no time, the shop is empty and silent again, except for Hani who has the pleasant habit of humming as she tidies up her side of the shop. You finish cleaning your station while your mind wanders. You think that it was so natural and easier to enjoy the peace of this place before.

This has always been a safe place for you, your very home. Of course, the concept of home is usually a place where you don't do your job, where you sleep, eat and rest. You pay the rent for the apartment, but this is still where you spend most of your time, this is that place that you know you will never leave, that you feel it's yours, that when you walk through the door makes you feel in your element.

It shouldn't be that difficult now, it's still the same shop, but the need to hide your appointments to avoid arguments with your ex in the past and the fear you began to feel as time passed, have tarnished what this place means to you. Your face drops in sadness at the thought. You want to go back to loving this place like you've always done at all costs and find some serenity again. Tattooing has always been your passion, something that sadly distanced you from your parents, who always wished you would pursue a different career. You won't let Ray ruin what you accomplished with sacrifices.

The shop shines when you're done, you pick up the bag previously prepared for the gym and you and Hani close the shop together.

You hope these lessons can help you release some stress.

Hani walks by your side, talking about everything and nothing, sharing a little laugh when you tell her that you can't wait to punch a sandbag imagining Ray's face.

The evening is pleasantly chilly and you're almost at the gym when you ask Hani if she wants you to wait with her for Tae to arrive.

“Don't worry I'll meet him at the corner,” she reply "besides, the class has already started, you should head inside."

You look at your phone, realizing it's way past 7:30pm already and you begin to feel a little anxious. Hani then tells you to call her or Tae if you need anything, even if they're going to spend the evening at the movies, she makes sure that you know you can always rely on them.

You nod, smiling "Thanks for being there Hani, I don't know how I'd have reacted to all of this alone" You truly don't know. Hani waves her hand "Don't even joke abaut it" she replies, mirroring your smile.

"You even talk like Tae now!"

She rolls her eyes but she knows you are just teasing her.

“I want to know everything about your first lesson tomorrow!” she emphatically throws a few empty and totally random punches. You giggle at the scene shaking your head “Sure sure- I’ll show you what I learn.”

“As long as you don't punch me, I'm fine with it.” You push her playfully and then you say goodbye as she walks away and you enter the gym.

It seems like a recently renovated place. You expected the usual smell of sweat and plastic typical of the gyms, but you are actually surprised to catch a fresh hint of flowers in the air. You notice a small reception near the entrance door, a well decorated counter with all sorts of flyers on top and red and blue led lights that illuminate the gym logo in the front, but there is no one behind the counter to welcome you.

You take a few steps through an arch that leads to what is apparently the main area of the gym.

The floor is mostly covered with a rubber tatami and you see some hanging plants and flower pots by the walls, which explains the very subtle smell in the air. Different tools and dumbbells are scattered around while several people are engaged in exercises of various kinds in front of some floor to ceiling mirrors.

You scan the place, pleased by the vibe it radiates. It surely is strange to find so many flowers and plants in a place like this, but it gives an original touch to it. Your gaze lands on a bunch of guys wearing boxing gloves while observing the explanation of an exercise. The one that's explaining, according to Tae's description, should be his friend Jungkook, who is standing in front of them while performing the exercise in question as an example.

Wow. Those are some wide shoulders right there.

You watch him intently as the dark haired guy moves. Something about his movements is attractive and you guess it's just him when he turns around and you notice the lip ring that Tae had told you about and the right arm completely full of colorful tattoos that you are already dying to curiously inspect. Yup, he's hot.

You watch him from the entrance as he performs the exercise with ease, his muscles flex and you can glimpse at them while his clothes deliciously wrap around his body. Tae could have warned you, it's gonna be hard to concentrate with this guy.

Jungkook almost seems to sense your gaze on him when, once his explanation is over, he turns towards the entrance you are standing at and your eyes meet for a moment. You tense up cursing at yourself, gawking at a complete stranger at the gym is creepy, But then you notice he's smiling while he approaches you and the group of guys he left is now performing the exercise.

"Can I help you?"

Of course, even his voice had to be hot. Fuck. You shift on your spot, clutching the bag you're carrying on your shoulder as you hope the warmth you're feeling on your face doesn't color your cheeks.

"You must be Jungkook," you reply, feeling a little awkward. Why even the sound of your own voice sounds stupid to you right now, damn.

"In the flesh." he responds confidently, pushing his hair back with his fingers.

Ok, now it's fucking clear as day that this guy knows very well that he is good looking and that he has an effect, which makes you think that he must be used to the women eating him up with their eyes.

"And you are?" he asks with curiosity laced in his voice.

"Uh sorry, I'm Y/N" you compose your thoughts trying to ignore the increasing awkwardness you feel explaining that "Taehyung told me about your class and I would like to give it a try."

"Kim Taehyung? Are you two friends?" He seems surprised as his eyebrows raise.

“Yeah, his girlfriend is my best friend.”

Jungkook chuckles by himself, amused by something you ignore.

"You're the tattoo artist, aren't you?" he asks, smiling as if he figured a puzzle or something like that.

“Did he say I was coming?”

“Not exactly,” Jungkook replies “but I met your best friend at Tae's a few times and I heard her say your name while speaking to Tae.” He seems pleased by the coincidence.

The fact that he remembers this small thing doesn't surprise you that much, but you start to feel anxious wondering if he happened to hear something related to your situation with Ray, you'd rather avoid talking about it. It's already difficult to deal with it with your friends, but most of all, you don't need compassion.

Jungkook observes you momentarily, and almost as if he sensed the drift of your thoughts, he beckons you to follow him towards a freer area of the gym. You follow him till you reach a set of gloves neatly arranged in one corner.

“Can I see your hands?” he asks casually.

"Sure." You leave the bag you're carrying on your shoulder on the ground, moving it to the side so it's not in the way, then you bring your hands forward with your palms facing up to let him observe them. Jungkook gently gathers your hands, and his touch is so delicate you barely feel it. He observes carefully, humming while he tries to figure out which pair of boxing gloves would fit you well.

It's not even a proper touch, it almost feels like the slight tickle that a feather would give and it's... pleasant. You're not completely indifferent as his fingers continue to brush the back of your hands, the sensation making you feel a little shy even though he is just looking at your hands and nothing more.

"Try these" His fingers leave you to take and offer you a particular pair of boxing gloves that he thinks might fit you. You inspect them briefly, wincing a little at the sweaty feel that envelops your hands as you put them on.

You feel your hands swimming inside, indicating that they are too big for you. You look at Jungkook asking “Do you have a slightly smaller pair?” Jungkook seems to have already considered the possibility that these were too big. He is giggling as he hands you another pair of seemingly smaller and more colorful boxing gloves and you see him try to bite back the smile that's on his pink lips. You can't help but think that the way he scrunches up his nose is actually cute.

You switch up the gloves with the colorful one, immediately understanding why he was chuckling like that. “I know, it's a big problem for me,” you admit, chuckling at your own hands, “I can't find latex gloves that fit perfectly 'cause of this” He laughs with you, amused by the smile that formed on your face when you noticed that the gloves he gave you are for children, specifically a blue and red spiderman themed pair.

"Using the words 'big problem" just made the whole thing funnier!"

"Well, I'll throw spider punches today." you joke.

Jungkook let's out a small laugh as he is looking at you with something in his eyes, you're probably the first grown up who needs kid's gloves and you catch him subtly checking you out.

This sense of lightness, simple yet helpful for your tired mind, is doing some good to you, you can feel it as you notice that you're exchanging genuine smiles and gazes since you started talking.

You follow him, avoiding to step on the tatami with your shoes as you approach the corner with different punch bags. He stands next to you in front of one of the standing punch bags available.

“Alright- so, there's no need to throw hard punches, for now just show me how you throw them.”

"But I don't know how!" you admit.

"Exactly, I want to see your natural movements, to understand what we'll have to work on'' Jungkook replies as he crosses his arms on his chest. The motion captures your eyes for a moment too long. That sleeve tattoo looks perfectly done and you barely refrained to take a closer look, the delicious way his tatted muscles are popping out of his white t-shirt is too distracting.

"Now show me how those little hands would hit the bag" his tone has slightly changed and he is smirking at you. He's teasing purposely and you think you saw him winking at you, or maybe you just imagined it. You roll your eyes as an attempt to save yourself from the embarrassment of being caught gawking at him like that.

You ignore the persistent warmth on your cheeks and try to remember the movements you saw earlier, as he explained to those guys. They seemed to get into position before they did anything else, so you try to imitate the movements you remember as best as you can.

You bring your left arm across your chest as your right arm punches the punch bag in front of you with ease. Jungkook's face is fully concentrated, he hums as he nods a couple of times, his gaze lost as he ponders on the movements he just saw.

“Okay, first of all- your left arm.” Jungkook moves, putting himself between you and the punch bag.

"Get back in position again, the one before you throw the punch"

You promptly do what he asked, repeating the previous movements once again. You stop when your arms are folded like before and you're ready to throw the punch. Jungkook's hands move as he says "Relax your shoulders." and then they gently rest on you.

This time his touch is not a simple featherlike brush, you feel the weight of his hands resting delicately on your skin and you stiffen at the contact. He said you should relax, but his hands on you caused the opposite reaction.

Ray and his hands come to your mind, the feeling of him holding you against the glass door is fogging your thoughts again, even though Jungkook's touch is soft and gentle on you.

You wince a little, taking a step back instinctively. Jungkook immediately withdraws his hands, sensing your discomfort.

"S-sorry, I was trying to correct your posture, I didn't mean to-"

“No- it's fine" you interrupt him, suppressing the negative emotions that started to poison your guts.

You really want to focus and learn and until now, you had no idea your ex's behavior has affected you up to this point.

Jungkook watches you dubiously, you can't decipher the expression adorning his beautiful face right now, he seems worried, thoughtful, maybe he's wondering what kind of an idiot would want to learn how to throw punches and then reacts like this at the slightest physical contact.

The idea of having to give up because of this sensation, pisses you off. You gulp the lump on your throat while you close your eyes briefly, then you resume the position, being careful to relax your shoulders this time.

"Better?" you ask in a calm voice. Jungkook nods with a faint smile on his face. Even if he probably noticed there's something wrong, you're glad he's not asking questions.

"What else wasn't right?"

Jungkook notices your determination to continue and returns to your side again, opting for a demonstrative explanation this time.

He moves his body naturally and you observe him carefully. His movements are so precise and satisfying to watch and the desire to learn, to achieve more or less this naturalness, gives you the right push to continue. Most of all, now that you know that Ray left this horrible sensation on your skin, you're determined to get rid of it.

Jungkook explains the importance of taking a correct position, to be able to hurt and not get hurt. A faint smile returns to your face at his way of explaining this kind of thing with passion and care.

You imitate his movements by moving your left foot forward, your left arm at your chest like before but slightly higher, until your glove touches the side of your chin. When you feel that you have planted your foot well on the ground, with a slight movement of your shoulders, you accompany your right fist towards the bag, also rotating your pelvis slightly.

And just like that, you land a perfect punch on the punch bag.

Jungkook cheers softly so as not to disturb the others but his satisfaction is evident. You smile to see him so taken for so little, but you have to admit that you feel pumped, and yes- it was only one perfectly landed punch.

“That's a great start!” he adds enthusiastically.

"So even small hands can throw some good punches huh!" You laugh softly and Jungkook joins you, genuinely amused.

"I'm sure those little punches will be able to do a lot of harm soon!" he declares "If you wanna join the gym, of course."

This is what you needed to hear, it gives you courage, you can't wait to feel totally comfortable with your abilities, you're ready to commit to this and Jungkook saw it, when you eagerly said "Of course I want!"

That -little episode- long forgotten when you two started to talk comfortably that evening. Jungkook took some time to explain how and when he gives his lessons and to show you around the gym as well as the female's locker room, making sure you knew you could use everything you wanted once you felt comfortable enough to train alone.

From that day, you started going to the gym almost regularly. To be honest, as time passed, you couldn't wait to get back on that tatami to train after work, it soon became a healthy habit.

And, on the other side, you could see Jungkook.

You like having him around, you and him started bantering all the time almost instantly. You got used to his presence and his ways of teasing pretty fast and he's been a breath of fresh air for you. You've been attracted to him since day one, you're not gonna lie, but he soon became some kind of a friend.

Yeah, that kind of friend you'd gladly rip their clothes off, but whatever.

The lethal mix of wide shoulders, buff body, lip ring, tatted arm and that sweet face of his when he smiles and scrunch up his cute nose…

Yup, you're kinda crushing on him and training with him almost everyday it's quite challenging.

You two share a nice friendship, but it's clear that something else is hidden underneath. The constant glances and flirty jokes at the gym are proof of that and from time to time you also catch him pretending not to be looking at your butt.

You are more at ease now and that's also thanks to him and his lessons.

Everything seems to be falling back to place, if not an even better one.

Ray has been silent since that night outside the shop. No messages, no calls, no unexpected visits, no nothing. The fear to meet him again is still persistent and sometimes the horrible things he did to you still haunt your mind, but you're now able to manage to get rid of it in no time. You're more confident, you sleep better and you're learning a bunch of new stuff that keeps your mind busy.

You feel like you're able to breathe again, like you got your life back in your hands.

Hani walked with you to the gym a few more times after the first time, but you soon started to book an uber to go and get back. It wasn't difficult to get into a rhythm: you book it through your phone a little earlier, so you don't have to wait outside and that's it, like this you're able to close the shop and get into the car immediately and when you have to go back home, you take a shower at the gym, say your goodbyes and head outside, where your uber is already waiting for you. Simple and effective.

Just to be extra sure, you leave your lessons a little earlier, like at 9pm instead of 10pm. Better safe than sorry.

Jungkook never asked the reason why you always leave early, not explicitly at least. Sometimes he's teased you by asking if you quit training early to fight crime with your cute hands, a recurring joke you always involuntarily smile at. Tae had warned you after all, Jungkook jokes a lot and in all this time spent at the gym, training with him, you had the opportunity to see for yourself.

There's something though that seems to creep behind his eyes every now and then and you can't quite put your finger on what. Sometimes he seems extremely thoughtful or even sad, even a few moments after he just cracked a joke.

You never had the courage to ask, just like he never asked why you reacted like that the first time he touched you. You don't want to ask him what's bothering him and apparently he doesn't want to ask you either. Jungkook began to invade your thoughts just like that, with ease, and this hidden mystery behind his beautiful brown eyes keeps drawing you to him more and more.

| [Next Chapter] ▶

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chillypowder · 7 months

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Rescued Hearts: A Second Chance at Love

Pair: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: After 6 years of marriage, you've finally decided to end it half heartedly. So how did you end on the floor of your house that was once something you called home.

As I sat alone on the couch in our once-luxurious penthouse, the empty room seemed to echo with loneliness. The soft hum of the city outside was the only company I had, and it offered no solace. I had grown accustomed to these moments of solitude, moments when Bakugou Katsuki, my husband of six years, would once again prioritize his career as a pro hero over our relationship.

At first, his absences had stung, the broken promises a constant source of disappointment. But as time passed, I had learned to bury those feelings deep within me, like embers slowly fading into ashes. I had grown adept at putting on a brave face, hiding the hurt that gnawed at my heart each time he missed a date, a celebration, or simply a quiet evening together.

Unbeknownst to Bakugou, I had been carrying a secret that weighed heavier with each passing day. A secret that, in a cruel twist of fate, had driven a wedge between us even further. I had been diagnosed with leukemia, a merciless disease that had already claimed so much of my strength. After a grueling surgery, the doctors had delivered a grim prognosis - I had just a week left to live.

I couldn't bring myself to burden Bakugou with this devastating news. I understood the overwhelming stress and dedication he poured into his hero work. His days were filled with battles against villains, and his nights with endless paperwork and public appearances. How could I add to his burden with my own impending demise? Instead, I had decided on a different path, one that would ultimately make him resent me.

Tonight, as I waited for him once more, I contemplated divorce. It was a desperate attempt to push him away, to free him from the guilt and responsibility of a dying spouse. The courage to have this difficult conversation had taken time to gather, but I had resolved to go through with it.

Just as I steeled myself to face Bakugou and tell him that our marriage had become too painful to endure, a sharp, excruciating pain radiated through my chest. I gasped for breath, clutching at my heart, and then everything went dark.

Six long hours later, the weight of the door closing behind him alerted me to Bakugou's return. I wished I could see his face, explain everything to him, but I was trapped in this agonizing darkness, unable to move or speak.

Then, his voice, choked with panic and desperation, cut through the haze. "What the hell happened?!" he exclaimed, his footsteps racing toward me.

He found me, unconscious and unresponsive, lying on the couch where I had spent countless nights alone. Panic surged through him, and he fumbled for his phone, calling for an ambulance. But it was too late. I could feel my own consciousness slipping away, like grains of sand through my fingers.

As the paramedics rushed in, they tried to revive me, but I knew it was futile. My time had run out, and I had left this world with so much unsaid. I could hear Bakugou's voice, raw with anguish, begging me to hang on, but there was nothing I could do.

In those final moments, I wished I could have told him about my illness, about the love that had never waned despite the distance that had grown between us. I wished I could have told him how much I cherished the moments we had together, even if they were far too few.

And as the darkness closed in, I hoped that somehow, he would find a way to forgive himself, to understand that life had given us both a cruel hand, and that our love had endured through it all.

Note: I'm sorry I changed the original text from the idea to a more evolved version if you want to read the original idea I'll post it separately.

Once again. Sorry 😔

#bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #angst #mha bakugou #bnha angst #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader angst #my hero academia angst

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forthechubbies · 7 days

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Alpha! Hybrid ! BC (Daddy Bangchan )X Omega! Human! Chubby! Reader🤒

⚠️Fluff, Slight nudity ( I.N), Kdrama Vibes *Chef's kiss*, cheeky Bangchan moments.

Your new neighbors are often noisy so you finally get enough courage pay them a visit..... with cookies.♡

Bam! Boom! "What in the world is happening upstairs?" Your heart races with worry about your new neighbors' noisy behavior. The never-ending thuds, crashes, and barking drive you insane, disrupting your peace and tranquility. It's beyond belief that they've only been here for a few days, and you're already at your wit's end.

Your heart was pounding as you frantically dialed the emergency number, ready to report the worst. But before you could hit the call button, your mother's voice cut through the panic: "Why don't you go check if everything's alright?" Her words shook you out of your fear-induced daze, and you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was hope yet.

You are standing at their door with a dish full of freshly baked sugar cookies because of her.

you noticed the door was slightly ajar. your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't resist exploring further into the apartment. The silence was deafening as you crept slowly, searching every room for signs of life. you could feel your heart racing in your chest, your mind racing with questions. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The apartment was empty. But how? Where had they gone? your mind was reeling with possibilities as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

You carefully placed the cookies aside and took a step forward, only to find yourself wandering deeper into the unknown. As you sauntered down the dimly lit hallway, It was then that you stumbled upon a series of family photos, each one more captivating than the last. In one particularly striking image, you saw a proud father standing tall, his face beaming with pride while his sons surrounded him. It was a moment of pure joy and love, The sons were so caught up in their playing that they didn't even notice someone was taking their picture.

As I scrolled through the photos, my eyes were suddenly drawn to one particular picture that left me completely breathless. The dense forest in the background, the faint outline of snow on the ground, and the boys gathered around a towering, live Christmas tree being carried by a man who appeared to be their father. But something caught my eye - the glint of an axe resting on his other shoulder.

As you took a step back from the picture, you unexpectedly collided with something solid. A gasp escaped your lips, but before you could react, a massive hand clamped tightly over your mouth, silencing you.

The intruder, with a furious expression, bellowed, "Stop screaming!What are you doing?!" It was a total surprise when he revealed his fluency in Korean, but unfortunately, you don't have the ability to translate. He firmly held your wrist above your head, while your hand fought to create some distance, trembling against his chest. However, he disregarded your struggle, as if you were not deserving of his complete attention.

It dawned on you that this was the very son depicted in the photographs. His nose and certain areas of his face had acquired a rosy hue due to the unforgiving weather conditions.

Your heart raced as you struggled to free yourself from his grasp. His strength was unbelievable, and you started to panic. The hallway echoed with your loud, muffled screams before someone charged around the corner, surprising you with a dramatic rescue.

It was a moment of intense adrenaline and fear, but your rescuer's arrival brought a sense of relief and safety that washed over you like a wave.

"Lino, Stop it! She's our neighbor!" He growled fiercely, his voice echoing through the corridor. He snatched you away from Lino, his eyes filled with anger . As he turned to you quickly, he felt your trembling body hyperventilating on his back. The fear in your eyes was palpable, and he knew you were about to faint. He stood there, his body tense.

"Oi..oi!" His voice boomed in your ears, causing you to snap out of your dazed state, and you took note of his worried expression as he looked you over. "Listen, listen…" You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to steady yourself, but the warm, sweet aroma that filled your nostrils helped to ground you. "Breathe for me. Can you breathe for me, miss?" You did as he instructed, focusing on your breaths as you looked into his puffy, chocolate-colored eyes. It was as if time stood still as his large hand gently stroked your head. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"I can help with her," Binnie said,placing his hand on his father's shoulder. "Felix is already getting the blanket and Hannie is getting water. "

Lay down?!..."Oh no, no! I assure you, I'm perfectly fine." You attempted to rise, but your legs betrayed you, forcing the man to bear your weight in his sturdy embrace.

Lino’s scoffing earned him a scowl from his father. “Oh come on, Chan, She’s faking for sympathy-”

In an instant, a wolf burst through the door, its transformation into a naked man leaving you stunned and vulnerable.

"Appa! Appa!!" The young man cried out. "I rushed here as fast as I could." He stood defiantly, his hands firmly planted on his hips. “ You’re scent smelled like shi-“

Gasping for air, you crumbled into Chan's embrace, your legs trembling with each passing second.

"Hannie! Get water! Water!" Chan's voice trembled with fear, as it seemed like he was on the verge of losing you.

Han settled on your right side, handling the glass to Chan before fanning you with one of Hyunjin's fan.

"YAH! There's a lady here!!" Binnie shouted, blocking Jeongin body with a blanket.

With a gentle touch, Han lifted you up and carried you to a more comfortable place on the couch. He propped your legs up on his lap and spoke softly. "Rest here with me,honey." His accent was distinctly English, unlike his father's Australian lilt. Though you knew you should correct him for using such familiar terms, you felt too weary to protest. A serene warmth washed over you as you drifted into unconsciousness.

Soft tickles brushing your cheek caused you stir and you fluttered your eyes open to find the father sleeping with his arms against his chest and his shoulders relaxed as snored away on the floor by the couch.

You slowly sat up but hesitanted after slightly smelling the aroma coming off of him. You found yourself leaning closer to his shoulder. Honey? Brown sugar. It's definitely honey.. Whatever it was it puzzled you , your body felt...safe and warm..even bold enough to inch closer eyeing his beefy hairy arms and.....honestly pretty side view.

With audacious courage, you dared to caress his cheek, defying all expectations and embracing the thrill of the moment.

Without realizing it, your gentle touch glided across his face, as if it was meant to be, and his head found solace in the cradle of your hand. A surge of emotions overwhelmed you as he peacefully slumbered, his snores echoing in the silence.

You melt as the sudden rush of euphoria come in the form of a sweet musk you sat up beside him gently not to interupt his slumber.

You were careful of your leg close to his arm; You took note of a crimson string laced around his bicep. You eyed the lace and you wouldn't believe it if you didn't see it but the lace latches itself around your ankle.

You let out a piercing scream, thrashing your feet in a frenzy, jolting the slumbering father awake. Despite his grogginess, he swiftly caught you just in time, preventing you from crashing onto the cold, hard floor. "What the heck? What's going on? Are ya alright?!" His eyes darted around the room, scanning every corner, ready to defend you from any unseen threat.

“ I-I have to get home.” The sweet scent of his musk intensified as he grinned, his dimples causing my heart to flutter. But something felt off...really off. I grabbed his bicep, trying to push him away, but I could sense his resistance. "Excuse me...I need to-"

"OF COURSE! Of course.." Chan's voice was shaky as his hands. Calm down calm down what the fuck is happening here?

The abrupt chill from the absence of his body warmth nearly earned a small whimper out of you but you cleared your throat to cover it.

In the couple of inches, Chan moved; you took a moment to let your eyes lingering around his beautiful features. Kiss him ♡ He'll take good of us. Just look at those biceps and sweet smile. ♡♡ Your eyes widen. What the heck are you thinking?! He's a stranger.

#;skz headcanons #poly skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #hybrid stray kids #hybrid skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz x chubby reader

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crazyhearttragedy · 7 months

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Protection - Mattheo riddle x reader

Author's note: Someone was asking for something along the lines of this. Hope you enjoy! @badasseddy

You had been crushing on Mattheo for months now, but you never had the courage to tell him how you felt. The upcoming ball was the perfect opportunity to ask him out, but your nerves always got the best of you. You were determined this time, though.

As you walked into school, you saw Mattheo surrounded by his group of friends. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. You walked towards him, trying to build up the courage to ask him out.

"Hey, Mattheo, do you have a date for the ball?" you asked, hoping he would say no.

He smiled at you. "Actually, I'm going with someone else. Sorry, Y/N."

Your heart sank. You had waited too long to tell him how you felt. He seemed happy, though, so you forced a smile and walked away.

Days went by, and you ended up saying yes to someone you didn't like at all. He had asked you out just because you were the only one left without a date. You felt miserable, but you didn't want to go alone.

The night of the ball arrived, and you showed up in a beautiful dress, hoping to have some fun despite your date. However, things took a turn when your date started to act weirdly towards you. He wouldn't leave you alone and kept insisting on taking you to a room alone.

You tried to get away, but he grabbed your arm tightly, making you scared. Suddenly, you heard a voice behind you.

"Let her go," Mattheo said, looking serious.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He had come to your rescue. Mattheo had always been kind to you, but this was beyond what you had expected.

Your date scoffed. "What are you going to do?"

Mattheo stepped forward. "If you don't let go of her, I'll make you regret it."

Your date let go of you and ran away, scared of Mattheo. He turned to you, and you felt your heart skip a beat again.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his protection. "Thank you, Mattheo. I don't know what I would've done without you."

He smiled at you, making your heart race. "Anytime, Y/N. I'm always here for you."

From that moment on, you knew that Mattheo was the one for you. He had shown you his protective side, and you couldn't have been more grateful. Without further hesitation, you took his hand and asked him to dance, feeling the happiest you had felt in a long time.

#y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader

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nayziiz · 1 month

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Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 9

Amelia's longing for Lando consumed her thoughts day and night, leaving her restless and unsettled. For weeks, she grappled with the dilemma of how to extricate herself from her relationship with Charles, knowing that her heart belonged to someone else. Each passing day only intensified her desire to be with Lando, overshadowing any semblance of contentment she had found with Charles.

Finally, after much deliberation and inner turmoil, Amelia mustered the courage to confront Charles and bring an end to their relationship. She approached the conversation with trepidation, fearing the pain she would inevitably inflict upon him. Yet, she knew that prolonging the inevitable would only cause further anguish for both of them.

With a heavy heart, Amelia explained her feelings to Charles, expressing her deepest regrets for not being able to reciprocate the love and devotion he had shown her. To her surprise, Charles received her words with a sense of understanding and grace, accepting her decision with a quiet resignation.

"It's clear that things haven't been right between us for some time," Charles conceded, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always known that there was something holding you back, something you couldn't quite put into words."

Amelia felt a pang of guilt at the pain she saw reflected in Charles's eyes, knowing that she was the cause of his heartache. Yet, she also felt a sense of relief at having finally freed herself from the constraints of a relationship that could never fulfil her deepest desires.

Amelia's heart raced as she contemplated the forthcoming conversation with Lando. She knew that she couldn't keep the truth hidden any longer, not from him. The weight of George's blackmail hung heavy on her shoulders, a burden she could no longer bear alone. Lando deserved to know the full extent of the turmoil that had plagued her, to understand the reasons behind her actions and the sacrifices she had made.

Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, Amelia resolved to lay bare her soul to Lando, to reveal the depth of her feelings and the truth of her circumstances. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that the words would likely catch in her throat and her voice would tremble with emotion, but she was determined to face him with honesty and transparency.

As the rain pelted down relentlessly, turning the world outside into a blur of grey, Amelia's car sputtered to a stop on the side of the deserted road. The sudden jolt as the engine died left her heart pounding in her chest, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. With a frustrated sigh, she glanced out the window, only to find the rain coming down in sheets, obscuring her view of the road ahead.

For a moment, she sat there, frozen in disbelief, the reality of her situation sinking in. She was stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no one in sight to offer assistance. The realisation sent a shiver down her spine, a wave of panic threatening to overwhelm her.

But then, with a steely determination, she pushed aside her fear and set to work. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment and stepped out into the pounding rain. The cold water soaked through her clothes, plastering her hair to her skin and sending shivers down her spine, but she refused to let it deter her.

With nimble fingers, she popped open the trunk and retrieved the spare tire and the jack, her hands shaking with cold and adrenaline. She struggled to loosen the lug nuts, her fingers slipping on the wet metal, but she refused to give up. With each grunt of effort, each strained tug, she felt a surge of satisfaction, a sense of empowerment coursing through her veins.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed to loosen the last lug nut and remove the flat tire. With trembling hands, she positioned the spare tire in place and began to tighten the lug nuts, her movements slow and deliberate despite the pounding rain and the chill that seeped into her bones.

At last, the tire was secure, and she lowered the car back down to the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped back and surveyed her handiwork, a sense of pride swelling in her chest. Despite the odds, she had managed to change the tire all by herself, a feat she had never thought herself capable of.

With a weary smile, she climbed back into the car, her clothes clinging to her skin and her hair dripping with rainwater. She turned the key in the ignition, half expecting the engine to protest, but to her relief, it roared to life without hesitation. With a sense of triumph, she pulled back onto the road and continued on her journey towards the Norris estate.

As the windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the downpour, Amelia's vision blurred not just from the rain but from her tears streaming down her face. Each droplet on the glass seemed to mirror the turmoil in her heart, a tumultuous mix of regret, fear, and longing.

She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at her insides, the fear that she had irreparably damaged her relationship with Lando. With every passing mile, her doubts grew, each mile marker a reminder of the distance that now seemed to stretch between them.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She replayed their last encounter in her mind, the pain in his eyes, the hurt in his voice. She wished she could take it all back, erase the words that had driven him away, but she knew that was impossible.

All she could do now was hope, hope that he could find it in his heart to forgive her, to understand the choices she had made, to see past the mistakes she had made and remember the bond they shared. She knew it wouldn't be easy, knew that trust once broken was not easily mended, but she was willing to do whatever it took to make things right.

Amelia's hands trembled as she dialled the familiar code for security, her heart pounding in her chest with each press of the buttons. The rain continued to pelt down on the roof of her car, adding to the sense of urgency that fueled her every movement. She couldn't shake the feeling of desperation that gripped her, the need to find Lando and set things right between them.

After what felt like an eternity, the gates swung open, and she drove through, her tires splashing through puddles as she made her way up the winding driveway. The estate loomed before her, grand and imposing, a silent witness to the drama unfolding within its walls.

As she parked in front of the imposing front doors, her hands shook as she reached for the handle, her fingers numb with cold and fear. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead, before stepping out into the pouring rain.

The security guards, ever vigilant, approached her as she made her way to the door, their expressions unreadable behind their rain-soaked uniforms. She gave them her name, her voice barely above a whisper, and watched as they exchanged a knowing look before asking her to wait.

“Mr Norris, Miss Rossi is outside.” One of the two security guards called Lando.

Lando's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Amelia's name. He had been lost in thought, his mind consumed with thoughts of her, when the security guard's voice broke through his reverie.

“Amelia?” He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, disbelief colouring his words.

“Yes, sir.” The guard confirmed, his tone neutral but tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Lando's mind raced as he processed the news. He hadn't seen Amelia in weeks, not since their last encounter at Carlos Sainz SR's birthday party. And now, here she was, outside his family home, seeking him out.

“Let her in.” He instructed, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him.

The security guard nodded in acknowledgment at Amelia signalling for her to continue towards the front porch of the house. With a heavy heart, she made her way up the steps to the front door, the rain soaking through her clothes as she went. Each step felt like a weight upon her shoulders, a burden she could scarcely bear. But she pressed on, driven by a determination that bordered on desperation. She could feel the eyes of the security guards on her back, their silent scrutiny weighing heavily upon her. But she pushed aside her doubts and fears, her resolve hardening with each passing second.

As Amelia approached the front door, she couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that gnawed at her insides. Her heart raced in her chest, and her palms felt clammy against the fabric of her coat. She could hardly believe she was here, standing on the doorstep of Lando's family home, about to face him after weeks of uncertainty and turmoil.

The door swung open before her, revealing Lando standing on the threshold. Despite her dishevelled appearance, she couldn't help but notice the concern etched into his features as he took in her bedraggled state.

“Amelia.” He breathed, his voice a mixture of surprise and relief.

“Lando.” She replied, her voice trembling slightly as she met his gaze.

“What happened? Are you OK?” He immediately asked, assessing her physical state and well-being.

“I... I had a flat on the way here and it started raining.” She explained, her teeth chattering as she spoke.

“Fuck, get inside. Let's warm you up before you catch a cold.” He insisted as she stepped aside to let her in and be enveloped by the house’s familiar warmth.

Lando took her up to his room where the fireplace crackled. Lando watched her closely, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. It was unlike Amelia to be so quiet and reserved, especially in his presence. Usually, she exuded confidence and vitality, her presence filling the room with energy. But tonight, she seemed weighed down by something, her usually vibrant demeanour dimmed by the events of the day.

He took a seat beside her on the plush sofa, leaving a respectful distance between them, yet close enough to offer his support if needed. He studied her features intently, noting the exhaustion etched into the lines of her face and the weariness in her eyes. It was clear that she had been through a lot, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his voice gentle as he broke the silence that hung between them.

Amelia's gaze met his, and for a moment, she seemed to waver, as if debating whether to confide in him. But then, with a sigh, she shook her head, the weight of her emotions evident in the gesture.

“I don't know.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Today has been... a lot.”

Lando nodded understandingly, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently squeeze her hand in a gesture of comfort.

“You'll need to shower to clean up.” Lando suggested as his eyes swept over her again. “Staying in wet clothes will just make you sick.”

Amelia nodded silently, grateful for the suggestion. She knew she must have looked like a mess after struggling with the flat tire in the rain.

Lando couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over him. This routine, of taking care of Amelia in times of need, felt almost second nature to him. He ran the water, adjusting the temperature to ensure it was just right, all the while lost in thought.

Amelia began to undress, peeling off the wet and muddy layers of clothing that clung uncomfortably to her skin. The sound of the running water served as a soothing backdrop to her thoughts, offering a momentary respite from the events of the day.

Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water wash over her, cleansing away not just the physical grime but also the emotional weight that had settled on her shoulders. With each drop that fell, she felt a sense of renewal, a fresh start beckoning on the horizon.

On the other side of the frosted glass door, Lando remained respectful of her privacy, keeping his eyes from her body and allowing her space to cleanse both body and mind. He retrieved a fresh set of clothes from his room, selecting items he knew would offer her comfort and warmth.

Returning to the bathroom, he left the clothes on the counter, a silent gesture of care and consideration. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on the closed shower door, before retreating back to his room, giving her the time and space she needed.

The warm water cascading down from the showerhead felt like a soothing balm against her tired muscles and weary soul. As she washed away the mud and rainwater, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift back to the events of the day. The confrontation with George, the emotional turmoil of ending things with Charles, and now, seeking solace in Lando's comforting presence.

Despite the chaos swirling around her, there was a sense of peace to be found in Lando's home, in his room, in his kindness. She couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, especially in her moments of vulnerability.

Once she had finished showering and dried off, Amelia emerged from the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed and rejuvenated. She found Lando waiting for her in the bedroom by the fireplace. She looked refreshed and revitalised, a shadow of the weary figure who had entered the bathroom not long before.

Their eyes met briefly, a silent exchange of understanding and gratitude passing between them. Lando offered her a gentle smile, wordlessly acknowledging the strength and resilience she had shown in the face of adversity.

“Feeling better?” Lando asked nervously, careful not to overstep any boundaries or trigger any trauma.

“Yeah. Thank you.” She murmured softly, her voice tinged with gratitude as she approached him. Lando offered her a warm smile in return, his eyes reflecting genuine concern and compassion.

“Anytime.” He replied simply, his tone sincere as he gestured towards the seat on the sofa next to him.

Amelia nodded, a small but genuine expression of gratitude as she sank into the comfort of the sofa by the fireplace. With Lando by her side, she knew she could weather any storm, finding solace in the unwavering support he offered.

As they settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire providing a soothing backdrop, Amelia allowed herself to relax, the tension of the day slowly melting away.

“You probably hate me.” Amelia eventually spoke, breaking the silence and tension in the room.

“I could never hate you.” Lando assured her as he turned to look at her instead of the crackling fire in front of him.

Amelia's voice wavered slightly as she responded to Lando's words, a mixture of relief and vulnerability evident in her tone. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the fire instead. She swallowed heavily before offering the explanation for her actions.

“There's a video.” Amelia started, unsure how to broach the conversation.

“What video?” Lando asked, confused.

“Of you and me having sex in your club's office.” She explained, her voice shaking.

Amelia's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of their implications settling over them like a suffocating blanket. Lando's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, his features contorted with a mixture of shock and anger.

“How is that even possible? Who would do something like that?" He demanded, his voice laced with incredulity.

Amelia's gaze faltered under the intensity of his scrutiny, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her like a crushing weight.

“It's George. He's been blackmailing me, threatening to release the video if I don't comply with his demands.” She admitted, her voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire.

Lando's jaw clenched with fury at the revelation, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The mere thought of someone exploiting their most intimate moments for personal gain filled him with a sense of righteous indignation.

“That son of a bitch.” He growled, his voice low and menacing. “I swear, if I ever get my hands on him…”

Amelia reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent plea for restraint.

“Please, Lando.” She implored, her voice tinged with desperation. Lando's expression softened at her words, the fire in his eyes giving way to a deep well of compassion and understanding.

“That's why... that's why you were so adamant about not pursuing anything.” Lando suddenly realised.

“And, I know I hurt you with the stuff I said. I'm so sorry, I should have told you.” Amelia admitted, shame and guilt swirling in her chest.

“I understand. And, I forgive you, Amelia. You don't have to apologise. None of this is your fault.” He replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Why did you decide to tell me?”

“Because nothing made sense anymore. I couldn't be without you, Lan.” Amelia conceded, her deepest feelings coming to the forefront.

“Ah, Milly.” He whispered and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch a tender caress against her skin.

“I am so sorry, Lan. I'm sorry I hurt you.” She continued, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes once again.

“It's fine, baby. All that matters is you're here now.” He assured her as he wiped a tear from her cheek.

Lando kissed her temple and then her forehead and then eventually her lips before pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her.

“I didn't know what to do, Lan. I just wanted to protect you.” She further explained as she leaned against him, appreciating his warmth and comfort.

“I know, baby, I know. But you're where you belong. You're safe here. We'll worry about this in the morning, but right now, you need to eat something and get warmed up.” Lando suggested, rubbing circles into her back.

“You've always been so good to me.” Amelia murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion.

“I do it because I love you.” Lando replied, his own voice equally tender. Amelia looked up at him, her eyes searching his eyes for reassurance.

“Say it again.” She whispered.

“I love you, Amelia Marie Rossi.” Lando said, his voice unwavering as he spoke the words that meant everything to him. A smile tugged at the corners of Amelia's lips, her heart swelling with affection.

“I love you, Lando Norris.” She declared, her voice filled with conviction.

“Yeah, I know.” Lando replied, a playful grin spreading across his face as he leaned in to kiss her gently on the forehead.

Their laughter mingled with the crackling of the fire as Amelia leaned in to kiss Lando again. The touch of their lips ignited a warmth that spread through them both, dissolving any lingering tension or uncertainty. In that moment, all that mattered was the love they shared.

“And, I will love you for the rest of my life if you'd let me.” Lando added, his signature grin not wavering.

“You say all the right things.” Amelia giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

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