#also be advised - this chapter is very soft | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

msbigredmachine · 6 days ago

Text

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Four

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake's masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine's masterlist

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut

Poster made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

The first thing Ivy felt as she stirred awake was a dull, satisfying ache between her thighs. Next was the naked, muscular body enveloping her from behind, full lips brushing her shoulder. Twisting her head, she found his handsome face peering down at her, his crinkled eyes soft and his voice softer against her skin.

"Morning, baby girl," Roman murmured, muscular arms tightening around her, “How ya feeling? You sleep good?”

Gingerly, she shifted around to face him, noting how he instinctively moved his body closer to hers, her loins clenching at the feel of his flaccid yet impressive length pressed against her stomach. “I did…after you let me,” she replied, relieved to find that the feeling in her legs had returned and her voice was still intact. “Don’t tell me you’ve been watching me sleep,” she giggled.

“I plead the fifth. You’re too beautiful not to watch, sweetheart,” he chuckled, sliding his hand down her bare back to grip her ass as his face nuzzled the crook of her neck. His touch sparked memories of their wild night; the havoc his hands and mouth and his stunning weapon of a dick wrecked on her body, his voice deep and rough and authoritative as it coaxed her through literal waves of unforgettable pleasure that had him changing his Egyptian cotton bedding afterwards:

“Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my dick…ffuuck, Ivy…”

“I love the way you moan for me, baby girl, you sound so fuckin’ sexy…”

“Haha, look at you shakin’ and leakin’, fucking up my sheets…It feels good when I'm deep like this, right, baby?”

“Relax your throat so you can take more of my dick…yeah, just like that, mmm…”

“C'mon sweetheart, let Daddy make you come on this dick one more time…”

Her eyes fluttered shut, a content sigh leaving her as Roman gently kissed her lips and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I wanna make you breakfast…whenever we get up, of course,” he said, looking down tenderly at her features. She looked so gorgeous in his arms, her hair tousled from sex and sleep, her body soft and warm. She belonged right here with him and if he had his way, she’d never leave his bed.

As much as she longed to spend her day like this, one glance at the clock on the wall advised otherwise. "Sadly, I gotta go. Zaia and Duchess will be home soon.” Also, she would very much rather not have Gemini find her here and start another lecture like she was her damn mother.

“You can shower here to save time, get cleaned up…We did…a lot, last night,” Roman grinned, mischief dancing in his warm brown eyes.

Blushing, Ivy rubbed her nose on his chest, breathing in his scent, “We did, and my body is feeling all of it right now.”

His brows furrowed with concern. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Not at all. And either way, I wanted it.” Easing herself upright, she glanced around the room, getting a good look at her surroundings for the first time considering how…occupied they were all night. “My dress is laying somewhere and I know the zipper’s busted, no thanks to a certain someone.”

“My bad. I’ll buy you a new one. I got a spare dress shirt you can wear,” Roman offered, letting her wiggle out of his arms and the cocoon of his bed to head to his bathroom, his gaze fixated on her naked glory all the way.

His shower was spacious, the water was warm and his sandalwood body wash was gentle on her deep brown skin. Yet it still couldn’t compare to the heat that filled her body thinking about their antics last night. The line had finally been crossed. Weeks of sexual tension had given way to giving in to her sexy-as-fuck next door neighbor. Cliché in the best and worst way. The pragmatic side of her was keen to overanalyze her actions, to pass it off as scratching an itch and be done with it to be never revisited again. The other part of her, the grieving, lonely young woman, had never felt this good, never felt as wanted and desired as Roman made her feel, and she wanted more. Needed more. For her pleasure. For her wellbeing. She would deal with the emotions when she was ready to cross that bridge. If ever.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not pick up on Roman joining her in the shower until his arms circled her waist. His long hair tickled her skin as he suckled the base of her neck, his mouth widening over the sensitive spot he'd become acquainted with, big hands roaming her body with purpose. As he turned her around, her eyes naturally fell to the shaft dangling menacingly between his tree trunk-like thighs. Even semi-erect, he was intimidating as hell. But even more intimidating was the predatory look in his eyes as he invaded her space with his big strong body, the swish of his tongue making her pussy quiver as she was reminded of how he’d worked it on her and in her until she saw stars…

The memory made her knees weak, and they just about gave way entirely when he smashed his lips to hers. His chest mashed against her hardened nipples, his fingertips grazing one before curling around her throat, soft groans exhaled in unison as the now familiar heat sizzled between them. They delved into each other’s mouths, lapping and sucking sloppily, heads twisting from side to side as he kicked her feet wider apart and grinded his erection against her mound, sending a fresh flood of wetness that had nothing to do with the running water.

“I’m gonna be late,” Ivy breathed out, an absurd statement considering that her home was literally across the street. Roman thought so too, easily dismissing her half-hearted protest with a laugh as he lifted her up against the marble wall.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he groaned, silencing her with another heated kiss, keeping her trapped between the solid wall and his equally solid muscles. Her shaky moans were his oxygen as he grasped his dick and pushed it inside her, letting out one of his own as her slick heat welcomed him. He reveled in the stunned look on her face, her jaw dropping as her pussy stretched open for him, compelling him to drive into her with hard yet measured thrusts of his hips. His haughty smirk was wide as she shuddered from pleasure, her nails scraping his broad shoulders, her thighs tightening around his waist pulling him deeper into her.

“Ssshiiit, Roman…”

“That’s right, baby, call out my name while I pound this sweet pussy…”

His arm latched protectively around her waist as he walked her to his front door. As they approached the foyer, Ivy looked up at him, her heart thudding from his smoldering gaze that always seemed to reach the depths of her soul.

“Thank you for last night…for dinner, for the dick…It was amazing,” she whispered, pushing a stray lock of his hair back into his neat ponytail.

As her hand dropped to his chest, Roman realized he couldn't let her leave without one more kiss. Caressing her chin between his long fingers, he molded his lips to hers, savoring the taste of her, ensuring to slip her some tongue before pulling back.

“Baby, you don’t ever have to thank me. I got you. If you or Zaia need anything, let me know. If you need to talk…or fuck…” he added slyly, Ivy gasping into his chest as he squeezed her ass, “Or both…just ask. I don’t care what time it is. Call me and I’ll be there,” he promised.

One of the perks of mutual attraction was the insane chemistry between the two parties. Having lacked this for years had almost made Ivy forget how good it felt to want and be wanted. How it felt for just one look to make her heart pound and set her body on fire. For her senses to be awakened with one touch. The butterflies, the schoolgirl-like giddiness…Roman reignited all of that in her in just a matter of weeks.

Having her all to himself seemed to unleash something in him too. Unearthed a sexual spontaneity and adventure that Ivy hadn’t experienced since her college days. Nowhere was too risky and no position was off limits; Perched on the sink in the tiny restroom of a diner, her moans hushed and his thrusts deep. On a deck chair by his pool, her legs on his shoulders, leaving her a sopping, sobbing mess. On all fours in the backseat of his Range Rover in the hospital’s parking garage, the fear of getting caught evaporating with each luscious plunging stroke inside her. Her pussy was his for the taking. Sex with him was so intense and breathtaking that she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been her whole life.

“So are y’all dating now?”

Startled, Ivy glanced up from her phone so fast, whiplash was in her near future. She cast a nervous glance around the spa's relaxation lounge. It was empty and quiet save for the serene background music and the soothing trickle of a water fountain nearby. But for all Ivy cared, Gemini had uttered the question with a megaphone. "Do you have to be so loud?" she yell-whispered, quickly putting her phone away.

Picking up her complimentary glass of champagne, Gemini shrugged nonchalantly. "What? I'm just asking a question. You’re going on dates. You’re fucking, and the dick is obviously top tier cuz look how big your smile is from just texting him. And the feeling’s mutual, cuz your pussy got that man paying for your hair, your nails and this spa session.”

“Oh my god,” Ivy groaned, the clay mask on her face preventing her from burying her head in her fluffy white bathrobe from sheer embarrassment.

Ignoring her reaction, Gemini leaned back in her lounge chair to observe her best friend. “Look, Ivy. I’m glad you’re getting your back broke the way you deserve, girl. I really am. But I still can’t help but think you’re moving really fast with Roman.”

On closer introspection, Ivy would agree. From the outside looking in, she was letting another man slot into the vacancy Angelo had opened up with his passing. But no one knew her life, especially not his mother Gloria, who still had nothing nice to say about her or Roman since confronting them at her son’s funeral. If only Ivy gave a shit. The woman turned a blind eye to everything her son put her through, thus, her opinions didn’t matter. No one was going to dictate how she grieved or moved on or how to raise her daughter and that was that.

And it wasn’t like she was moving on with Roman. She just felt so…connected to him. Long before they became two bereaved souls that lost their life partners in tragic circumstances. Plus, it wasn’t even all about the sex. He tapped into her desire for comfort and companionship that had eluded her since her relationship with Angelo collapsed. And unlike her ex, Roman appreciated her, and it was evident in the way he treated her. Making her laugh when she was having a tough day. Checking in on her regularly. Talking with her for hours and listening to her. She liked listening to him too; the stories he shared about growing up in Pensacola, Florida, the way his eyes lit up discussing his family with so much love and adoration. And then there were his other little thoughtful gestures; the care packages with soothing teas, bath salts, scented soaps and candles. The playlist of songs that “remind me of you” as he had named it on Spotify. Bouquets of flowers delivered to her workplace that had her fellow nurses ooh-ing and ahh-ing, not excluding her boss, Lilian.

“Whoever this man is, do not let him go,” the Head Nurse had advised as she admired the soft pink roses perched on Ivy's desk.

She didn’t plan to. Not when he was hitting every sweet spot she owned, literally and figuratively. Maybe Gemini was right. Maybe she was dickmatized. But she couldn’t really be blamed, could she? Roman was a smart, sexy man with a soft side and a protective nature that she found extremely appealing and was drawn to.

“You’ve zoned out on me again.” Gemini’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You are dickmatized, girl. The sex is that fire, huh?”

Yes! Ivy thought, a small smile on her face as she tried to articulate her feelings. “It’s not just that. He’s been…really good to me, Gem,” she confessed, sipping pensively on her mimosa. “I feel like grief has kinda brought us together in a good way. Like it was meant to happen like this. Yeah, he’s…passionate. And I know you’re worried about his temper. But he’s been so gentle with me. He’s attentive. Affectionate. He…cares. And it feels good. Really good,” she went on, her eyes fixed imploringly on her best friend as though trying to plead her case.

Gemini was silent as she took in Ivy’s assessment, the skepticism on her pretty features slowly melting into sympathy. “Well, in your defense, you do look…happy,” she admitted, “Happier than I’ve ever seen you with Angelo or anyone else. But I won’t stop begging you to keep your eyes open, babe. It won’t speak well of me as your friend if I don’t.” She was yet to find anything on Roman other than the fact that he had no social media presence of any kind. Odd as that was, it wasn’t a crime. Gemini truly wanted to believe she was overreacting about him, but her gut pushed her to keep looking just to make sure, for Ivy’s sake at least. And she would. Ivy didn’t need to know. If there was indeed nothing, she would let it go and forget all about it. “Angelo just passed. Your emotions are elevated. It’s okay to take things slow and not rebound so quick.”

Ivy pleaded the fifth on that. He was a welcome distraction from losing Angelo. A reprieve from her other reality of coming home and finding traces of her child’s father around the house. He never got round to taking all of his belongings with him when she kicked him out for good, which meant she was still kicking up the occasional item of his here and there that brought fresh waves of sadness each time.

But no one was taking his death harder than Zaia, who had essentially abandoned her bedroom for her mother’s. More heartbreakingly, she was crying in her sleep almost every night, calling out for her daddy. Ivy was worried and planned to book an appointment with her pediatrician, Dr. Zayn.

Again, Roman came to her rescue, arranging movie nights with her daughter, the two of them cuddling up on her couch and bonding over buttered popcorn and Disney’s iconic characters. As Halloween approached, Roman joined them in decorating not just her yard but his own as well, creating a festive atmosphere that brought joy to their little community. He even took them on an outing to Dave & Buster's, where his playful and attentive interaction with Zaia stood out. It was quite heartwarming how hands-on he was with her little girl; he would make a great father someday.

Ivy knew he was only trying to help; in no way did she expect him to replace Angelo because he never could. No one could. That was Zaia’s daddy, no matter what. And though Ivy acknowledged that she may like Roman a little more than the boundaries of mere physical attraction permitted, she knew better than to let those feelings cloud her judgment when it came to her baby. Angelo would always be a part of her life. She hadn't completely shoved him all the way to the back of her mind, but at least he no longer dominated her every thought. It was getting better, and better was better than worse.

An attendant entered the ladies’ space and set a tray of assorted fruits on their table. Gemini snatched up a strawberry and dropped it into her drink. "Anyway, you're gonna be at my party, right?" she asked, “What are you wearing?”

Gemini’s annual Halloween party was a highlight of the social calendar year, and it made Ivy cringe to know she’d forgotten about it. “Fuck. I’ve been so busy with work and everything else that I haven’t thought about it. I only got Zaia sorted out for her trick-or-treat party. I’ll find something for myself this week.”

“Good. Can’t wait to see what you do this year. Your Storm cosplay last year was fire.” A long, tense beat crawled by before Gemini cleared her throat, her next words tentative and begrudging. “You can bring Loverboy along, if you want,” she grumbled.

Smiling, Ivy raised her champagne flute to her lips. “I’m sure he’d like that. I want you to get along with him. No more tiptoeing around another man in my life.” Sitting upright, she moved in for the kill. “And what about the man in yours anyway, huh? Officer Hayes, hmm? If you don’t focus on that fine ass man and leave me alone…”

Eyes wide, Gemini avoided her friend's teasing gaze. “Ion know whatchu talkin’ about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Ivy smirked.

Nobody threw a party quite like Gemini Beaufort. Her Halloween bashes were the stuff of legend, with an over-the-top grandeur that seemed to escalate with each passing year. By the time October’s final night arrived, the anticipation was palpable. Securing an invitation to her party was almost as difficult as getting into an elite club. Hosted in the grand, sweeping mansion that had been in her family for decades, attending a Beaufort party was a badge of honor in this town, an unspoken acknowledgment that you were now part of Hartford’s elite.

Hand in hand, Roman and Ivy climbed the winding stone steps. The dark silhouette of the house framed the towering trees draped in cobwebs. Skeletons hung from the eaves, their bony hands outstretched in eerie welcome, while carved, glowing pumpkins lined the path like sentinels guarding the front door. Fog rolled across the ground, and a ghostly figure swayed in the breeze, making the mansion feel like something out of a haunted tale.

As they neared the entrance, Ivy noticed Roman fidgeting with his costume. He was dressed as Aquaman, the golden, two-piece spandex clinging to his chiseled body like a second skin, his trident gleaming in his hand. But despite the impressive Jason Momoa-esque look, Roman seemed uncomfortable, adjusting the tight fabric around his torso. “You good, babe?” she questioned.

“I don’t know, Ivy,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “This thing is skintight. I feel…exposed. Like it’s showing everything.”

His nerves were a sharp contrast from Ivy’s, looking effortlessly stunning in her Clovers cheerleader uniform from Bring It On, the iconic green, yellow and gold ensemble accentuating her curves. She smiled softly at him, her eyes warming. “Well, it’s showing all the right things,” she joked, biting her lip when he frowned. “Relax. You look great. Like you just stepped off a movie set,” she reassured him.

Roman exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting toward the house where the party raged on inside. “It ain’t the outfit,” he admitted. “It’s more of the people, I think. I’m not…great with crowds.”

Ivy’s smile grew, her heart softening at his vulnerability. She had seen this side of him before—strong but uncertain. Needing assurance. “Remember how you stood by me at Angelo’s funeral? You defended me in a room full of strangers,” she reminded him. “Well, I’m gonna do the same for you tonight.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You look sexy as hell, babe. You’ll be fine, because we’re in this together. And if all else fails, we’ll just drink the night away.”

At that, Roman’s posture relaxed, the tension eased. He smiled at her, his expression grateful. “You right. Thanks, baby.” He paused, the gratitude in his eyes shifting to something else as he looked her over. “You look beautiful, by the way. Really beautiful,” he drawled, licking his lips. “You sure we can’t go back home and have a party of our own?”

“Down, boy,” Ivy giggled, swatting his creeping hand away as she glanced toward the door. The brass knocker had been replaced with a creepy, oversized spider, its legs curled around the handle. With a deep breath, she stepped forward and grabbed it to knock.

The door swung open, the soft creak of the hinges drowned out by the thumping bass of music from inside. A wide smile lit up Gemini’s face as her eyes fell on Ivy, her jaw dropping as she took in her outfit.

“Ivy! Girl, you look incredible!” Gemini’s voice rang out with warmth, her own costume, a curvaceous Lola Bunny from Space Jam, hugging her voluptuous shape enticingly. The white crop top, matching shorts, and knee-high socks paired with her signature bunny ears made her look every bit like the cartoon character. “I’m so glad you made it!” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Ivy in a tight hug, the scent of lavender and cinnamon swirling between them.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ivy grinned. “You woulda beat my ass anyway if I did.”

Gemini stepped back, eyes flicking over Ivy’s shoulder, her smile faltering at the towering figure behind her, his sharp features and easy smile that seemed just a little too practiced. He was dressed as Aquaman—predictable. Her eyes lowered to his hand on the small of Ivy’s back, possessiveness radiating from the man that the attorney was yet to warm up to. But she was quick to recover, plastering on a welcoming smile.

“Hi, Roman,” she said coolly, stepping aside to let them in.

“Hey, Gemini,” he replied smoothly, his voice cheery as he looked around. “Thanks for inviting me. You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks,” Gemini answered. “I’m glad you both could come. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

The entire space of the mansion’s grand foyer had been transformed, an intricate web of cobwebs draping the walls, bats dangling from the ceiling, and pumpkins carved with jagged smiles glowing from every corner. The scent of mulled cider and spiced pumpkin filled the air, the low hum of conversation and laughter drifting in from the next room. Before they parted ways, Gemini’s eyes met Ivy’s again with that disapproving look that Ivy was starting to tire of. In turn, her eyes narrowed, a subtle, silent warning. Roman, however, seemed oblivious to the tension, scanning the room with that same cautious gaze. Watching them slip further into the crowd, Gemini’s eyes lingered on the big man and suppressed a sigh, deciding to focus on the party. Tonight wasn’t about him. It was about having fun, celebrating with the people she cared about, and being a good host.

The vibrant energy soon took over, the lights, the laughter, and the familiar hum of a good time. Ivy showed Roman around, introducing him to other neighbors and a few other friends of hers, including local cops Officer Gable and Officer Hayes, the latter looking spectacular in his Killmonger armor. Dinner was a vibrant mix of the ordinary and the macabre. Alongside the classic chicken, beef, and vegetarian dishes, the buffet featured quirky options like graveyard chocolate pudding cups, bloody finger hot dogs and cheesy pizza skulls. The bar added a playful twist, serving drinks in boozy blood bags and Jell-O shot syringes, alongside cocktails inspired by iconic horror villains like Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers and Chucky.

At the table, conversation flowed freely, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Ivy sat sandwiched between Roman and Raquel, a paralegal at Gemini’s law firm. The hostess herself claimed the head seat, with Officer Hayes right next to her. Ivy noticed how Carmelo had stuck close to Gemini all evening. It wasn’t subtle, and Ivy was certain they were sleeping together. They were undeniably cute, even if Gemini would never admit it. Ivy smirked to herself, already planning how she’d tease her friend about it later.

She turned her attention to Roman, checking on him. He’d been quiet, not saying much, listening to other people’s chatter as he picked at his food. “How’s your food? Good?” she asked, eyeing up his half-eaten plate of shrimp fried rice and garlic butter salmon.

Roman nodded, leaning close to her, “It is. But I’d rather be eating something else cuz it looks so fucking good.”

Before she could ask him to clarify, he snuck his hand under the table to rest it on her leg, moving it along her inner thigh.

"Roman!" Ivy hissed, shocked at his boldness. Surely he wasn't going to try to do what she thought he wanted to do in the presence of all these people, dimmed lighting or not. Her eyes widened as Roman tugged her panties to the side, teasing her folds with his fingers, gathering the growing wetness.

At that exact moment, Raquel decided to steer the conversation to them, leaning forward on the dining table with a sly grin. “So, Nurse Jones, we see you’ve been scooped up by the handsome new neighbor over here,” she teased, her voice brimming with curiosity. “Tell us all about it. How did this beautiful union happen?”

Ivy opened her mouth to answer, but any attempt at forming a coherent thought was derailed by two thick, long fingers suddenly plunging into her, sending shockwaves all over her body. Grabbing his wrist under the table, she struggled to keep a straight face, a sharp contrast from Roman as he stepped in smoothly. “It’s pretty straightforward, really. I came over to hers, asked to borrow some sugar, and she gave me a cookie recipe along with it. The rest, as they say, is history,” he announced, his voice warm and effortlessly charming.

The table erupted into a mix of laughter and ‘aww’s. Ivy’s flushed features were for a far less innocent reason than his sweet comment as she shot Roman another warning look. He merely raised an eyebrow as if daring her to lose her composure, his signature smirk firmly in place as his fingers pumped inside her, making her squirm in her seat as she fought to suppress her moans.

A clueless Raquel nearly spilled her wine as she clutched her stomach. “A cookie recipe! Classic! That’s so cute,” she exclaimed.

Carmelo chimed in next, his tone gentle but curious. “And Zaia? Has she taken to you?” His eyes flicked to Ivy, aware that her little girl had been the center of her world since day one.

Roman’s countenance shifted then, the playful air giving way to something softer, more sincere. “Zaia is the sweetest little girl,” he said, his voice unwavering. “She’s so smart, and she has her mama’s kind heart. I’m blessed to get to know her. Ivy’s an amazing mother. It’s been a tough year for me, and I’m so glad I’ve met them, and all of you as well. I can tell that this town will be good for me.”

The warmth emanating from him seemed genuine, and even Carmelo appeared won over. There were murmurs of approval around the table, heads nodding in silent agreement.

But not everyone was convinced. Gemini sat quietly, her glass of wine untouched, her sharp eyes flickering between Roman and Ivy. Unlike the others, she wasn’t laughing or nodding. Her arms were crossed loosely over her chest, her face a careful mask that betrayed nothing except a slight tension in her jaw.

As Roman continued to field questions and charm the room, she remained silent. Her piercing eyes took in every word, every gesture, every touch. Something about him just did not sit right with her. His words felt just a little too smooth, too charming, his timing just a little too perfect.

The others were too busy to notice Gemini’s quiet skepticism, but Ivy could feel it, even if she wasn’t looking her way. She could only imagine her indignation if she knew that Roman was currently fingering her under the table. She forced a smile as Raquel launched into another question, fighting the urge to scream as her orgasm loomed. But right as she made it to the brink of euphoria, Roman stopped, pulling his fingers out of her.

“We’ll finish this later,” he growled, kissing her cheek and patting her thigh, refocusing on his food like nothing happened.

Infuriating.

Intoxicating.

After dinner, the guests gathered in the cozy, candlelit den. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the room. Lounging on plush armchairs and sprawling rugs, the drinks continued to flow and loosen people up more and more. Someone had started a risqué game of “Truth or Dare,” but Roman seemed uninterested in the group activity, his attention wholly fixed on Ivy.

Her seat was his lap, her laughter chiming through the room as someone recounted a particularly embarrassing dare. Roman’s arm remained draped possessively around her waist, his fingers idly tracing circles on her hip. His gaze, though lighthearted, was sharp and territorial, shooting silent warnings at anyone who dared look at Ivy for more than a fleeting moment. Most irritating of them all was Damian, a mutual friend of Gemini and Ivy’s whom Roman noticed had been eyeing her up all evening, seated next to them in a gaudy vampire rockstar getup as he made conversation with her. Then for some reason, he dared to address Roman himself, nodding in his direction. “Hey, great costume, man,” he complimented.

Plastering a plastic smile on his face, Roman leaned forwards, his tone deceptively casual as he responded loud enough for the entire room to hear, “Thanks man. Ya know, I almost didn’t bother with a costume this year. I considered dressing up as a homicidal maniac.” He paused, letting the room go still for a moment before adding with an airy laugh, “Ya know, cuz they look like anybody?”

The room’s energy froze for a beat, the humor landing awkwardly. A few people exchanged uneasy glances. Damian looked flabbergasted.

Roman clapped his hands together, his grin widening as if to erase the tension. “Come onnnn, relax, people! Lighten up! Anyway, I think I nailed the Aquaman look, right?”

Laughter rippled through the room, hesitant at first, but it grew louder when Roman flashed his megawatt smile and raised his drink. The moment passed, but Gemini wasn’t laughing. From her seat on Carmelo’s lap, she studied Roman with narrowed eyes, her suspicions too great to hold in any longer.

A little while later, as guests migrated to refill their glasses and raid the buffet table for more snacks, Gemini saw her chance. She waited until Roman wandered into the kitchen alone and followed him from a distance.

“Roman,” she said, her voice sharp and deliberate.

He turned, his smile immediate but calculated. “Gemini! What’s up? Great party-”

“What kinda creepy ass comment was that, huh? Homicidal maniac? Really? After everything that’s been going on in this town? Could you show your ass anymore out there?” she accused.

“I was just trying to be funny. Sure, it didn’t hit at first but I think I recovered. If my joke was perceived as offensive then I-”

“Cut the shit,” Gemini snapped, stepping closer. Her voice was low but firm, her eyes boring into his. “I’m a goddamn attorney, Roman. Your passive-aggressive bullshit don’t work on me. I see through it, and I see right through you. You’re not who you pretend you are. I can feel it. You’ve got Ivy and everybody else fooled, but I’m not buying it.”

Roman’s smile didn’t waver, but it shifted into something colder, crueler. He leaned casually against the counter, swirling the drink in his hand. “Ivy is a grown woman, Gem,” he said, his tone almost too calm. “A mother, with her own family. Something you don’t have, and with that attitude, you probably never will.”

Gemini’s composure faltered, just for a second, at the scathing jab. Roman caught the slip-up like a cat catching a canary, and his smile widened, his voice softening mockingly. “I’m sure Ivy can make her own decisions without her lawyer friend hovering around.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping. “I’ve tolerated your hostility long enough. But let me give you some friendly advice, sweetheart. You don’t wanna get on my bad side, ever. I promise you that.”

Before Gemini could retort, the sound of approaching footsteps made them both pause. Ivy appeared in the doorway, her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the tense scene.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her gaze darting between the two of them.

Gemini straightened, her tone as lighthearted as possible. “Just having a chat with your boyfriend.”

Roman immediately softened, his expression shifting into one of wounded innocence. “I think I’ve upset her somehow,” he said, his voice laced with regret. “I’m not sure what I did but whatever it is, I’m sorry, Gemini. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Stunned by his complete 180, Gemini opened her mouth to respond, but Ivy got there first. “Gemini, can I talk to you for a second?” she spoke, more a demand than a request.

Roman stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said smoothly, pressing a light kiss to Ivy’s cheek before slipping away.

As soon as he was gone, Ivy turned on Gemini, her eyes blazing. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem?” Gemini shot back. “I’m trying to protect you, Ivy! I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either!”

Ivy’s shoulders sagged slightly, exhaustion and grief creeping into her demeanor. “I don’t need this from you right now, Gem. I’m barely holding it together after Angelo, and Roman…Roman’s been there for me in a way no one else has.”

“Exactly!” Gemini said, her tone urgent. “Don’t you think it’s a little too convenient? He shows up out of nowhere, swoops in while you’re at your most vulnerable, and suddenly he’s everywhere in your life? Doesn’t that raise any red flags for you?”

Ivy’s jaw tightened. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not Angelo. I’m not a case you need to solve, Gemini. I’m a grown ass woman and I can decide who I want in my life. Roman’s good to me and Zaia. That’s all that matters.”

Gemini stared at her, her frustration mounting. “You’re not seeing the whole picture, Ivy! Please, just—”

“Enough!” Ivy snapped, stamping her foot angrily. “You’re always looking for problems where there aren’t any! Roman’s done nothing but protect me and be there for me! Just cuz you don’t trust anyone doesn’t mean I'm the same!” She trailed off. Reeled her temper back in. Ignoring the hurt in her best friend's eyes, she addressed her with a clipped and cold tone. “I’m only gonna say this one time. Stop trying to interfere in my life. If you don’t, I might have to reevaluate our friendship.”

Gemini’s eyes widened. “And what does that mean?”

“Figure it out. You’re the one who knows everything,” Ivy bit back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Over a nigga you just met?” Gemini shook her head in disbelief. “Wow, Ivy. Wow.”

Ivy stood her ground. “I said what I said. All I know is I can’t go on like this. This constant back and forth with you. I’ve made up my mind about Roman and clearly, so have you.” She shrugged. “The only difference is I don't care what you think anymore.”

Gemini swallowed the lump in her throat as Ivy turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen. She exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the counter. Roman’s words kept echoing in her mind, chilling and deliberate.

You don’t wanna get on my bad side, ever.

Gemini wasn’t scared of his threats. But she was more certain than ever: Roman was hiding something. And she wasn’t going to stop until she found out what it was.

Ivy stormed out of the kitchen, her sneakers pounding against the hardwood floor. She pushed her emotions down, forcing herself to breathe evenly, to shake off the lingering sting of her gut-wrenching argument with Gemini. The music from the den grew louder as she approached, but it all felt like static compared to the turmoil in her chest.

Roman spotted her immediately. He was lounging against the wall near the fireplace, sipping from a glass of bourbon, his Aquaman costume catching the firelight. His sharp eyes tracked her as she neared him, his expression shifting into one of concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting his drink down. He reached for her hand, pulling her close. “You okay? What happened back there?”

Ivy avoided his questioning stare, her expression tight. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just…I want to leave.”

Roman frowned, tilting his head. “Leave? Why?”

“Because,” she said, her voice faltering, “I’m not in the mood anymore. Gemini…She thinks she knows everything! She’s just trying to protect me, but I can’t deal with it right now. I don’t want to ruin your night, Roman.”

“Ruin my night?” Roman chuckled, the sound low and warm. He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Baby girl, don’t let her ruin your night. This is meant to be fun. You deserve a break…you’ve been through so much.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, firmly but kindly. “Stay. Forget about her. I’ll handle her if she steps out of line again, okay?”

Ivy hesitated, her eyes searching his face. Something about the way he looked at her—the unshakable confidence, the way he made her feel grounded—settled the tension in her chest. She nodded slowly. “Fine. Get me a drink. A strong one.”

Roman’s lips curled into a pleased smile. “Comin’ right up,” he said, kissing her softly before heading off to do as she asked.

Deeper into the night, the party reached a fever pitch. The music thumped louder, a sultry beat that made the air feel electric. Ivy, emboldened by her third cocktail, shepherded Roman to a corner, away from the makeshift dance floor in the center of the room. Backing up on him, her movements were fluid and teasing, her body swaying to the rhythm of Chris Brown and Davido’s “Sensational”. Her head tilted back, her laughter loud and uninhibited, her eyes locked seductively on Roman’s. He gripped her hips, pulling her flush against his crotch, biting his lip as she bent at the waist to grind on him, her ass gyrating obscenely against the thick bulge of his erection. A low groan slipped from her lips when he yanked her back upright, brushing her hair out of the way to nuzzle her neck, his mouth hot and greedy on her heated skin.

The other guests watched, some whispering to each other, some pretending not to notice. Ivy was putting on a show and she knew it. Her grief, her frustration, her lingering anger with Gemini—all of it melted away as she lost herself in the music and Roman’s presence. Turning around, she wound her arms around his neck and captured his mouth with hers, absorbing the alcohol lacing his tongue. His hands traveled underneath her little skirt, grabbing and squeezing her ass cheek in large handfuls, his body rocking with hers in time with the music.

Roman leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re full of surprises tonight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone heavy with amusement—and something darker.

Eyeing him through her long lashes, her hand trailed down his chest, her touch deliberate as she stroked his visible hard-on through the stretched fabric of his costume, loving the feel of him throbbing in her hand.

“I need you. Need your dick inside me,” she whispered to him, lust simmering in her brown eyes.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Roman cupped the nape of her neck, his lips brushing her ear. “Where’s Gemini’s bedroom?”

Ivy froze for a half-second, caught off guard by his question. She pulled back slightly to look at him, a curious smirk tugging at her lips. “Why?”

His grin was devilish, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Where better to fuck you than right under her nose? Let her hear just how much you need me.”

Ivy’s heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness and alcohol twisting in her stomach. She glanced around the room, the other guests oblivious to their conversation, and then back at Roman. He was watching her expectedly, intently, his darkened eyes filled with a dangerous kind of charm.

“You nasty motherfucker,” she slurred, her full lips curved into a wicked, excited grin.

Roman leaned in, crushing his mouth to hers, his kiss laced with carnal, tantalizing promise. “Only for you, baby girl.”

Without further hesitation, she grabbed his hand and dragged him off the dance floor. As they disappeared from view, the music continued to pulse, the party continuing without them.

They stumbled up the staircase, Roman watching her ass sway from side to side as she moved. He made an impatient sound and swiftly scooped her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way up. Giggling drunkenly, Ivy tucked her face in the thick column of his neck, licking that one protruding vein that made her crazy for him. “You smell so good, handsome,” she purred, latching her mouth to his throat with an almost vampiric hunger, her clit pulsing in anticipation for the naughtiness about to transpire.

“Which door?” asked Roman.

“Last one on the right,” she murmured, wiggling out of his grasp and mildly surprised to find the door open as she turned the knob and dragged him inside. Roman looked around with a raised eyebrow at the spacious master bedroom, sleek and organized and fitting for an uppity bitch like Gemini. His gaze cut back to the sexy little MILF before him, her dark eyes glazed and stormy, her ample chest heaving in shallow breaths. He eagerly closed the gap between them, his hands finding her hips and yanking her to his chest. Cupping his bearded face, Ivy pulled him in, her mouth meeting his with heated eagerness. Roman maneuvered them to the bed and shoved her onto it face-first, his eyes blazing as he ogled her exposed derrière.

“So fucking sexy. The things I wanna do to you in this little ass skirt,” he murmured, his hands all over her ass, smacking the plump cheeks. “Come here, baby, let Daddy give you what you need.”

In what felt like record time, she was on her hands and knees on Gemini’s king bed, her back arched, panties tugged to the side, deep, powerful backshots making her scream Roman’s name into the comforter lest all the guests downstairs would find out exactly they were up to in here.

“You feel that dick, baby girl? You like that?” asked Roman. His body weight damn near had her face disappearing into the bed. Flat on her chest, ass in the air, barely able to keep her eyes open as he dug her out from behind, forcing his dick deeper into her with tantalizing rolls and snaps of his hips.

“Shit…I feel it, oh fuck!” Ivy cried, wanton, breathy pants punched out of her by his dizzying length and girth tunneling in and out of her, nudging against her g-spot, right where she wanted it. Fuck, he was so deep!

He liked that she couldn’t seem to control her noises because she was taking him so fucking well, his pelvis smacking loudly and lewdly against her ass, a mesmerizing sight. He grabbed the soft flesh, using his strong grip to rock her back and forth on his dick, making her meet his deep thrusts. Her pussy was so wet that it lathered the entirety of his cock, dripping down her inner thighs and onto the sheets. “Mm-hmm, make a mess on my big dick, baby. Getting fucked on your bestie’s bed like a nasty slut…You love this shit, don’t you,” he taunted her, wrapping his fist around her pigtails and using them as a steer, controlling her.

“Yes, I love it…unnh, fuck my pussy, baby, don’t stop!” She was definitely under a liquor spell that had her talking and acting reckless tonight. This was one of the few reasons she didn’t drink much. No way in her sober mind would she have agreed to desecrate her best friend’s bedroom like this.

But right now she didn’t want to think about Gemini or anything else except the feel of this hot, big man and his even bigger dick all up in her like it was now.

Sitting up straighter, Roman pulled out and flipped her roughly onto her back. Climbing into the bed, he yanked her closer to him and hoisted her shaky legs up on his shoulders. Ivy tried not to scream at the maddening, deliberately slow wind of his hips as he forged his way back inside her.

"Awww, right there," she whimpered, head thrown back, her mouth falling open in ecstasy, "Oh my god, your dick feels so good..."

Roman grunted, weaving his hands inside her top to massage her breasts. “Been wantin’ to fuck you all damn night.” He groaned as her walls clung to his dick, squeezing every inch as he maintained his pace, keeping up his relentless strokes inside her pussy. So wet, so warm and tight, a wonderful sensation. “Shit, this pussy too good. You’ve put a spell on me, baby girl. I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, day and night.” He bent down to lash his tongue inside her mouth, his eyes filled with a fire that matched the burning in hers.

“You belong to me,” he growled in a dark and possessive whisper, his fingers shifting downward to play with her pussy. “You’re mine. Your pussy is mine. Forever. You understand me?”

“Yes, baby,” Ivy moaned back to him, delirious, her body on fire, the flames fueled by his other hand gripping her throat, applying a little pressure as the bed shook and rattled under the strain of their coupling. Above her, Roman’s eyebrows knitted, his hold on her tightening as for a brief moment, his vision blurred, distorted, and suddenly, it was Gemini lying beneath him instead, her eyes wide and bulging with sheer terror, the light in them slowly fading away as he choked the life out of her.

The image, so vivid and palpable, made him fuck Ivy harder. Squeeze her neck tighter.

She was a moaning, mewling, soaked mess underneath him, her essence smeared all over both their lower regions. Overwhelmed by the thrill, the pleasure, the power of his deadly thrusts absolutely ruining her sweet spot. This was exactly how he wanted her, powerless and compliant to his will, and there was nothing she could do about it, nor did she want to. She looked into his eyes, watching his gorgeous face twist in an erotic mix of concentration and pleasure. Her nails dug into his broad back, keeping him close. Body to body, skin on skin. So good; he felt so good on her, in her, and she was on the verge of explosion.

“I’m gonna come,” she whined, her breaths joining his in bursting expulsions of air as he pounded her into Gemini’s mattress. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she came apart, her body convulsing from the orgasm to end all orgasms, robbing her of all her senses. She was all nerves and sensation as Roman continued pumping into her at blistering speed, gasping and growling against her sweat-slick skin.

“Let me come in you,” he beseeched her with a sloppy, tongue-laden kiss, groaning at the feel of her rubbing the firm flesh of his backside, amplifying the already intense sensations coursing through his massive frame.

"Come in me, Roman. I want all your cum," she encouraged, her fingers tangling in his long locks to anchor him to her, inhaling his sweat-slick, sweet scent. A feeling like this could never be replicated—this animalistic passion, this wild and primal need for each other. Every touch, every stroke was magic, a fountain of bliss and ecstasy that Ivy was drunk off of and she would be for the foreseeable future.

A jumble of expletives along with Ivy’s name tumbled from Roman’s lips as he came hard, his hips jerking, releasing all he had inside her. He remained on top of her when his orgasm ebbed away, shifting so that her legs slid from his shoulders and settled around his waist. He kissed her softly and relished in her satisfied sighs and the sensual brushes of their lips together. Sitting back on his heels, he studied her with a wipe of his brow, biting his bottom lip cheekily before they both burst into soft laughter as the gravity of their misdeeds sank in.

“Let’s take this party home, beautiful,” he breathed, slapping her backside lightly before helping her out of the bed. “Best believe I ain’t done with your fine ass.”

Thank goodness that Zaia was having a sleepover. “Sounds good to me, babe,” Ivy concurred as they adjusted each other's clothes before sneaking out of the room, not bothering to straighten the rumpled sheets and pillows scattered on the bed.

Thanks for reading! Your replies and reblogs are so much appreciated! Also keep your Asks coming, we're loving all the theories!

🏷️: @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @thewarlordsworld

@dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @iguessilikewrestlingnow

@purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @tribalhoochie @wrestlingprincess80

@papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @unfriendly--blvck--hottie

@theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills

@theglamclosetsl @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @crxssjae

@twocentuar @surdelcielo @althegreat33 @alichesmi @eclectic-tee

@joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa @femdisa

@megamindsecretlair @headoftheetable @brwnsugababe @heauxvibez @christinabae

@raya-hunter01 @lilucey @aisharmi @neverlookatthisblog @dayaimonee @nayys-world

@kianaleani @digidestned @marasdeathnote @msbluehaz3 @hunnidmilly

@worldwidehoodrat @ariiaeltheedonn @wanderingreigns @sisinever @jaza23

@wrestlingbaby @amandairene88 @romanreignsbae @li-da-savage @thickbihhwitdagapp

@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @2-muchsauce @usoholic @dontcomplicateit @rihanna0607

@jimingotthajams @happy-princes @nymphobabyyx @authenticallymisfitted @sageispunk

@bxrbie1 @octaviastargirl @skyesthebomb @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @blueki16

@slutouttanowhere @zabwlky1999 @ayeeitsali @shamaness1171 @mainlyy-danae @mzv11

@misslackey @sayyestoheav3nn @dyttomori @dyttomori02 @kat3457

@zillasvilla @smile1318 @prettyfilmz @trippinsorrows @romansthrone

@wwecrazed2010 @xbriexx @ashyknee @katrinnnn @thedondada05

@shes2real @aldrigmer444 @rose-bliss @jxtina-86 @that-one-anxious-mango

@fearlesschimera @kuromiish @vampygomez @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic

@disc0fairy @prettybitxhnica @mellybandzz @blveeeeeee @taytropicana @planetch1ld @mayasopinions @tribalchief2112

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @callmekayd @partypoison00 @originalgeezyy @muzaqueendom @naturally-nikkilynn

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns au #roman reigns angst #the boy next door #tbnd #harmshake #roman reigns x black oc #otc

195 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 1

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 1

Word Count: 4145

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2 : I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter. Your first interaction with Law is in those chapters! If you don't want to read the other characters, I recommend reading, at least, Law's Chapter since it's their first interaction!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: First chapter of Law's story! I'm already writting chapter 4 so I think it's safe to start posting this. I'll try to update regularly, but life usualy kicks my butt so I'm aiming for one chapter per week (though this can change!) Also, this story is more sugestive than Ace's was, since reader has slight kinks (described in tags) that will influence the story. Read the tags, people, they're important! I guess this is it. Have fun!

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Chapter 2|

The ride home is uneventful. You have come out empty-handed from your job hunt and, as your car drives by the clinic, you remember that there is still a very serious conversation to be had with your father about his surgery. He has to have the surgery as it will improve his lifestyle.

Shanks is eating chips straight from the bag as he screams something at the players of a football game on the TV when you arrive. That is all fine. Except his posture, however, makes your eyes twitch. He's completely hunched over, and every time something exciting happens in the game, he jumps, throwing his back as if he doesn't have an injury on it.

You bang the front door especially hard just to get his attention - he hates when you do that - but he simply yells an angry ‘careful, bug!’ without tearing his eyes from the television. Sighing, you enter the living room and place your body in front of the TV.

“Hey! My game!” He yells, hands in the air and another jolt to his back.

“Dad! Your back! You want to throw it out again?” You cross your arms in defiance, moving your body as he moves his head, blocking his view even as he tries to see behind you.

“Bug, I'm being careful.” He whines, clearly more interested in what’s going on behind you.

“I'm going to set up an appointment with Dr. Law. We are going to schedule the intervention and you are going to get surgery. But first, you will speak with him and get all your fears and worries out of the way. He seems very competent. You're in great hands. Do you agree?” Stomping your foot down, you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Can I have some time to think about-...”

“Not if you want to see the game!”

Shanks grunts and falls against the back of the couch.

“And don't make those sudden movements! You'll throw your back out!”

“Fineeeee!” He drags the ‘e’ so much that he sounds like an exasperated child. “Schedule the appointment.” A heavy sigh parts his lips. “Now get out of the way, bug.” You remain stoic, eyebrows raised even higher now. “Please?” He begs as he sits very straight on the couch.

At that you nod in satisfaction, turning to leave the room and already dialling the clinic’s number to schedule an appointment at Law's earliest convenience.

-*-

Unfortunately Law's schedule is not the same as your father’s, and there will be about a week where their schedules conflict. So, after speaking with your father and assessing his fears and worries, you decide to go alone to this appointment and see where it gets you.

Does it seem silly that you are looking for the cutest dress to wear to the appointment? Maybe. But Law is freaking eye candy. How can you not want to look good and maybe catch his eye? And the only other thing he saw you in was torn clothes, so this time you want to be presentable.

Besides, you can't stop thinking about those tattoos… Just how many does he have? How far down do they go?

Sighing you deem yourself ready. Your father is with his neighbour and friend Benn Beckman, helping him around his property, so you pray your car works, pat it nicely, like your father told you to, and off you go.

Once you enter the clinic, Kaya is ready for you with a wide smile. You can't help but smile back at her, even though you know she is going to tease you about Law.

“Good morning, Kaya. How are you today?”

She sing-songs your name as she pulls your father's file from the archive on the computer. “I'm doing very well, thank you. Just getting ready for another chapter of my novel!”

You arch an eyebrow, an intrigued smile on your lips. “Oh? What are you reading?”

Kaya giggles with a hand covering her mouth. “A romantic novel about a young doctor who falls in love at first sight with a patient's daughter. It takes her a bit longer to realise he's the love of her life, but she's getting there.”

The unamused look on your face only makes her giggle more. “That's not funny, Kaya.”

“It is to me! I have a bet going on with Shachi and Penguin. It's about you two, but I'm not going to tell you what it is. I have a lot of money riding on this thing, Usopp would kill me.”

As she fills you in about who Usopp is, and you lean on the counter, engrossed in your conversation, you don't sense someone approaching.

“Nurse Kaya, you are paid to do your job. That does not include idle chitter-chatter with patients. I was calling you so you could let Mr. S. in.” He says your name and his low voice makes it sound like the most beautiful word in the world. “Good morning. I hope you're feeling well.”

“I-... Hmm, hmm!” You cringe internally and hiss through your pursed lips. A college graduation and a master's degree and this is the best you can do? Shit.

Spying the hint of that sexy smirk he showed you last time, he glances around the waiting room. “No Mr. S.?”

With a heavy sigh you shake your head. “He ‘couldn’t make it’.” You emphasise with an eye roll and air quotes. “But I want to ask some questions to assuage his fears, if that’s alright with you?”

Nodding, he gestures towards his office. “Follow me.”

Your feet immediately follow him without contest. There's just something in the assuredness of his voice that makes you want to do as he says. Not to mention that now every time you do something he asks you to, all you can hear in the back of your head is that slurred, low-vibrato ‘good girl’. And damn it, just thinking about it sends shivers down your spine.

After entering his office, he follows you, closing the door behind him and sitting across from you, his hands resting against his chin with his fingers entwined.

The combination of his piercing amber gaze and the hand tattoos is making your heart race and you're glad you're not hooked up to any monitor now.

“How have you been feeling?” He uses your name again and you gulp, actually thinking before uttering your response so you can articulate a clever answer this time, or an actual answer.

“Perfectly fine. I'm in good health, Doc. Physically at least because if you could peek at my ebooks or listen to my audiobooks, you would say I'm unhinged!” You snort before regaining composure and cursing internally because that was way more information than necessary. “Fine, I'm fine!” You add with an eye roll.

What is it with this man and his ability to render your brain into mush?

“That's good.” You almost have to stifle a whimper. “And how's your father?”

This is a safe topic, so you feel more relaxed as you lean back and cross your legs, forgetting for a moment that you’re wearing a tiny summer dress.

“His back has been fine, his habits, not so much. I fear he might come back sooner rather than later. And he's so afraid of the surgery that just speaking about it sends him bolting out of the room like lightning. I swear-...”

You stop talking as you notice that Law's hands have risen from his chin and are now covering half of his face leaving only his amber gaze - which is fixed on your bare thighs - and the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks.

Shit.

You just gave the doctor a peep show.

Blushing, you uncross your legs and tuck them neatly to the side, like the old etiquette books demand, resting your hands on your lap as Law realises he was staring.

Though he seems unfazed. “Well that aligns with what we've seen since discovering the hernia. Mr S. completely ignores caution when moving around and doesn't want to hear anything related to surgery.” He sighs and you tilt your head. So he was paying attention, not just staring at your nearly exposed thighs.

You reach into your purse and take out your notebook with a sigh. “He has questions. I did some research too, so I jotted down a few more. If he won’t come here, then I need to be reliable enough to give him the right information. I’ve divided the questions by theme and organised them from the most common to the really crazy ones my father came up with and-... what?” You ask, annoyed at the amused look he’s giving you. “Do I have something on my face?”

He chuckles softly as he leans back in his chair. His piercing gaze should be unsettling, but instead, it makes your heart race and leaves you breathless.

“It's not that. You're a control freak with a need for organisation and planning, and an endless search for perfection. You have high standards and expectations of others, but mostly of yourself. Am I right?”

Your mouth hangs open for a moment before you snap it shut, your cheeks flushing red. He’s right on the money.

“Is that a proper diagnosis, Doctor?” You ask, crossing your arms in defiance.

“No, not at all. I'm not a psychiatrist. That was just a random guess.” That damned smirk again.

“Random?” You raise an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping your lips.

“No. Not random at all. I tend to always be in control, so I understand it. But, there are ways to just… let go… and relax.” That damn sexy smirk is back again and you realise it does things to you. “But we’ll talk about that some other time, if you’re interested.”

A warmth spreads through your cheeks as your body responds to his intense gaze.

“How about this, you lend me that notebook and I’ll take a look at all your questions. We won’t tell your father anything, and I’ll make him a house call with the answers. If we ambush him, he’ll have to hear us out.”

Biting your lower lip you run his plan through your mind. It’s flawless. Shanks will be caught by surprise, with no way to escape.

“Sounds good!” You say smirking as you close the notebook with a light tap. “But I’ve paid for a full consultation. What should we do with the rest of the time?”

He makes a low hum, almost a grunt. Something primal and instinctive that makes your hairs stand on end. But when he speaks, his voice is calm. “The way I see it there are two options. Either I do a full checkup, or you ask for a refund. Which we don't offer.”

Well that isn't fair at all. He’s playing you like a fiddle.

“Law, you're being unfair. That’s hardly an option at all. I just said I didn't want to waste this consultation.”

When he leans forward, his chin resting on his hands again, giving you a perfect view of his hand tattoos and long, slim fingers, you gasp for breath.

“No point wasting it. Hop on the table.”

You don't know why your heart keeps pounding at an insane rhythm against your chest, but if you are about to be examined by a doctor, he’ll immediately realise that you're nervous. Still, you get up and do as he says, because, once again, you find it very hard not to obey his commands.

Taking a deep breath and trying to calm your racing heart, you climb onto the examination table, fixing your eyes on your legs instead of on him. But when he approaches, you realise he's wearing spotted jeans. He looks like a cute leopard. How did you not notice that before?

“Look at me.”

You do. Shit. What's with his hold on you?

Law points his flashlight at your eyes, one at a time, testing your pupil reactions. You try to focus on the light, but all you can see is the yellow of his eyes. And he's very close.

“Follow the light.” He moves it up and down, left and right and you follow it. Your breath keeps coming out in shallow pants and you scream at yourself in your head. You're being ridiculous! This is an exam! A professional one!

“Now open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue for me.” You swallow hard before complying. In most of your books what follows this command isn’t exactly office appropriate. His gloved hand cups your jaw gently, opening it further as he shines the flashlight into your throat. “Say ah!”

The sound you make is rather sinful. You can't help it. You told Kaya you weren’t interested in men in general and you weren’t interested in Dr. Trafalgar Law in particular. But your body didn’t get the memo your brain sent out. Because you're twitching, throbbing, and clenching. And he is just there. Ready for grabbing and taking.

But you have to be rational. You’ve just met the man. There's undeniable attraction, but there's no way you'll act on it. However the way his pupils darken at the sound that leaves your lips makes you realise that the attraction is mutual.

And the two of you could have so much fun together.

You close your eyes and dig your nails into the examination table, making the paper crinkle and tear beneath your fingers as you ground yourself.

“You can close your mouth now.” His voice sounds hoarse, so he clears his throat as he takes a step back, removing the stethoscope from around his neck and placing it near his ears, not yet covering them so he can speak with you.

“I'm going to listen to your heart, lungs and abdomen, checking for murmurs or abnormal noises, is that alright?”

It's the first time he asks permission to do something and you realise it's because he's going to have to touch you, so he needs consent. “Yes.” Your voice seems weak and distant, charged with desire and want. You're pretty sure he picks up on that tone as well, but he doesn't comment on it.

He places the stethoscope in his ears and the flat part against your chest. He starts with the lungs. “Deep breath through the nose.” Once again you follow all of his instructions. “Out through the mouth.” He keeps moving the piece on your bare chest and back, repeating the orders. His gloved hands are warm, big and firm and they make you feel things. “Your heart now.” He states and you gulp. Your heart is not going to be beating at a normal rhythm at all.

He notices immediately as a small chuckle escapes his lips. You drop your gaze to your lap again as you bite your lower lip. “Interesting.” He replies and you don't really ask what he finds interesting, knowing the conversation could veer down very dangerous paths.

Removing the stethoscope from his ears, he asks you to lie down as he reaches for a sheet, placing it over your lap and covering your legs. “Can you pull up your dress so I can listen to your abdomen?” You notice him asking again. He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

And you're not.

“Yeah.”

Adjusting the sheet to cover your panties, you pull the dress to expose your belly and he listens to whatever odd sounds come from it. There's a spot he touches on the side that tickles you and you squirm and twitch with a hearty laugh. He seems surprised and looks at you with a glint in his eyes before resuming the examination.

“Palpation next. Abdomen first to check for irregularities.” He looks at you for confirmation and you nod. This whole ordeal is overwhelming. You try to look away from his form, his eyes and his hands, but it’s impossible. He’s focused on his task, professional and attentive, yet… There's a hint of mischief in the way he looks at you every time he presses your flesh.

And you can’t help but to blush as your breaths grow more and more ragged.

“Joints and muscles next.” His hands trace your ankles and calves, then your knees - front and back - before climbing towards your lower thighs. You hold your breath, but he doesn’t go higher. “Sit up.”

“Yes, s-... doctor.” The flush in your cheeks nearly rivals his own. Neither of you expected this reaction. You were about to call him sir? Stupid, stupid, stupid! You should really start reading self-help books instead of filthy smut. But his voice… Law’s voice is deep, assured, commanding! You can barely help the way you want to bend to his words and do everything he asks of you.

In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s deepening his voice on purpose. He’s been using a more commanding tone since the beginning of the consultation. He probably picked up your little kink when you told him to call you a good girl when you met. And now he’s taking full advantage of it.

Trying to push the whole ordeal behind you, you sit up and close your eyes, willing your mind to focus on something other than the sheer sensuality of a freaking doctor’s appointment!

He keeps touching and squeezing you. Wrists, elbows and shoulders are next. “You’re doing very well.” He says, adding your name and making you blush even more. If you weren’t sure before, now you are. He’s doing it on purpose.

And damn, it's working!

“Open your eyes.” You try to fight it, pressing your lips together and shutting them even tighter. “I need you to look at me while I do this, can you?” There’s tenderness beneath the firmness of his voice, and the combination sends shivers down your spine. Yet again, you do as he says and open your eyes, only to find his face directly in front of yours. “Good.”

Fuck. You’re about to declare the time of death for any decency you thought you still had, because the huskiness of his voice is enthralling and mesmerising.

His tattooed hands wrap around your neck and you gasp, your pupils dilating as your hands grip the paper beneath you. His smirk is no longer veiled as he now knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. His fingers move, pressing against your thyroid and under your jaw, and he lets out a satisfying hum that you instantly want to hear again.

But closer to your ear, much, much closer.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“No nodules, that’s good. Now, take a deep breath, relax. You did very, very well.” You want to scream. You want to cry or smirk or laugh. Anything to express the warmth you feel in your chest from his praise.

You discovered this little kink of yours some time ago but you were always too fearful to ask Ichiji, your ex-fiancé, to explore it in the bedroom. Ichiji was, by nature, violent and controlling, but in a frightening way. You never meant to tempt or provoke his behaviour intimately. Yet with Law…

Your mind was already picturing all kinds of scenarios, each hotter than the last. You knew, you just knew that you were screwed. There was no way you could get this man out of your head now.

Even though he was very professional with his touching. It was your head that created all the scenarios. Your horny head!

As he sat down by the computer, typing away notes on your file, you composed yourself by pulling your dress down and passing your fingers through your hair. Taking a deep breath, like he said, to steady your racing heart.

When your eyes landed on him again, his professional demeanour was back in place, as if it were a cloak he had donned over himself after all this teasing. “Tell me, have you done any palpation of your breasts?”

“What?”

The chuckle that escaped his lips was low and soft. “Self-examination? Looking for nodules or abnormalities. A breast checkup?”

Oh. Dumbass. “Yes, yes! I have. All is well.” With wobbly steps you return to the chair in front of him.

“Any concerns with your health? Something that feels off, or any indispositions? Headaches, stomachaches, or any other aches?”

You keep shaking your head at his suggestions until a snort escapes your lips at his last suggestion. “Does heartache count?” Then you immediately blush and lower your eyes. Thinking about Ichiji earlier revived very unpleasant sensations within you.

Law stops typing while his piercing gaze returns to you. “I can’t offer any medical assistance for that, per se, but I can always lend an ear, if you ever want to talk about it.” As you glance up, the smirk on his lips is replaced by a stern smile. You nod and mumble a low ‘thank you’.

“Anything else?” He’s not teasing now, nor being playful. He’s being strictly professional and that makes you realise he was teasing you on purpose during the examination.

“No, thank you.” Your voice still seems very small. You thought that the mere mention of your ex was not enough to alter your state of mind so much, but it really affected you. Maybe it had something to do with being highly stimulated by all the sensations Law was provoking and then crashing when you came down from that high just by thinking about Ichiji and the heartache he caused you.

His eyebrows scrunch and he stares at you for a while, waiting for you to add something else. When you remain silent, he gets up. “Okay. You’re all set, then.”

“Thank you, Law.”

And without barely saying goodbye, you hasten out of his office, quickly saying goodbye to Kaya and telling her you have to run some errands and you can talk some more another day - since you already settled the payment when you arrived.

You had just unlocked your car when you heard your name. It’s Law’s deep rumbling voice again and you almost gasp.

“Law?”

He approaches you without his doctor’s coat on and you blush as your eyes take him in. His t-shirt shows off even more tattoos on his arms. Just how many tattoos does he really have? And why do you want to trace them all?

“Can I have the notebook?” You look at him with a raised brow. “You said you’d leave it with me so I can review the questions.” He says with a slight chuckle at your aloofness.

“Oh!” Smacking your forehead with your palm, you reach into your purse and hand him the notebook with a slight shake of your head. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He takes it in his hand and fidgets with the ribbon from the page marker. He looks slightly embarrassed and you don’t know what to make of it, since he seemed so sure of himself in his office. “Did… did I go too far?”

The look on your face is one of surprise. Does he think you’re acting like this because of his teasing?

“No!” You almost scream. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you try to compose yourself. “Not at all! You were very…” Endearing? Seductive? Sexy? Irresistible? “Professional. I’m just…” Another chuckle escapes you, accompanied by a sigh and a dismissive gesture. “I’m a mess! I’m still terribly affected by my past relationship and-... well, thinking about him stirred up some bad memories. I’m sorry.”

Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s completely understandable.” He seems much more at ease now that he’s sure you weren’t weirded out by all the teasing.

“I’ll be reviewing these, then. I’ll make sure to schedule a house call so we can surprise your father.”

“Oh!” You gasp in surprise as you reach for the notebook again, fishing a pen from your purse and quickly scribbling your number on one of the pages. “There’s my number. If it’s a surprise visit we don’t want Shanks to be the one to answer the phone.”

Your easy smile makes him chuckle as he, once again, takes the notebook, tucking it neatly under his arm. “All right. See you soon?”

You nod. “Yes, Law, thank you.” He nods back but, before leaving, he reaches behind you, his arm grazing your side as he opens the car door for you. Such a random, simple gesture has you blushing, and once again thinking about how, in four years of relationship, not once had Ichiji held a door open for you.

Muttering a muffled ‘thank you’, you climb into your seat. Law says goodbye again before closing the door to the car and walking away.

You let out the biggest sigh to ever escape your lips as your head falls forward against the steering wheel.

Why did your father’s doctor have to be so freaking hot?

|Chapter 2|

#one piece x reader #one piece #x reader #op #the meet cute #modern day au #reader x law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law #law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #reader insert #Spotify

184 notes · View notes

baelarys · 4 months ago

Text

𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙚, 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚

Aegon II targaryen x Reader Sister targaryen

word count :

Warning : anguts, Chapter 5 spoilers, Insest

Author's note : I honestly felt very bad for Aegon in chapter 5

Your stomach turned and a grimace of disgust adorned your face as you saw the head of the imposing creature being paraded like a trophy through the streets of King's Landing. Followed by this, a wooden box that contained the body of your husband, Aegon.

“The gods are going to punish us,” you said contemptuously, drawing the gaze of both Aemond and Alicent.

Aemond approached you, his expression cold and controlled.

"It's the nature of war, Y/N. We must accept the consequences," Aemond said in a firm voice, showing no apparent interest in the matter

You looked out at the crowd, your hands tightening their grip on the small stone wall of the balcony.

"They see us as gods, they see the dragons as deities," you said in a suppressed voice, your words echoing with a mixture of pain and frustration. "But they will realize that we are only flesh, as fragile as they are."

You looked away at your mother, Queen Alicent, who also looked worried. Without another word, you retreated, moving towards Aegon's room. Upon arrival, the guards made way for you, bowing their heads slightly in respect.

The room was full of maesters bustling around, trying to do everything they could to tend to Aegon. Alicent followed you closely, her anguished expression reflecting the weight of the situation. She approached Maester Orwyle, who was carefully cleaning Aegon's burned and ash-covered face.

"Its alive?" Alicent asked, her voice heavy with restrained desperation.

“His Majesty remains with us for the moment,” Orwyle explained, his professional tone trying to convey a glimmer of hope.

You watched uneasily as the maesters lifted the Valyrian steel armor from Aegon's chest. The sight of his skin lifting up, revealing fresh, sticky flesh, made you make an involuntary grimace of disgust.

Aemond entered the room and stood next to you. You hadn't noticed until then that Blackfyre was hanging from his belt next to his sword. You little bastard, you thought to yourself.

"He can recover , Maester Orwyle?" You asked, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Orwyle paused for a moment, assessing the extent of the injuries before responding.

"It is difficult to say with certainty, my lady. The injuries are serious, but we will do everything in our power to ensure your improvement," he said, his tone full of caution.

You left the room to give the maesters space while they tended to Aegon's wounds. Crossing the threshold, your eyes met Helaena, who was standing next to one of the pillars in the hallway. His face, usually serene, reflected a mixture of anguish and concern.

––––––––

You returned to Aegon's room once the maesters had finished treating his wounds. Entering, you approached the bed carefully, watching Aegon with a heavy heart.

Half of Aegon's face was burned, and his fractured leg was nearly split in half. He shifted a little in his bed, letting out a small moan of pain. The sight of his suffering moved you deeply, but you knew you had to maintain your composure.

“Aegon, I'm here,” you said softly, taking his hand tenderly.

Aegon opened his eyes slowly, his gaze searching yours. Although his features were distorted by pain, he tried to muster a smile.

“Y/N…” he murmured weakly, his voice barely audible.

"Don't talk, you need to rest," you advised, squeezing his hand gently. "The maesters have done everything they can. Now you must focus on recovering."

"If only you had listened to me," you said softly, your voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and reproach. "But you are a fool, Aegon. Always so stubborn."

Aegon let out a soft sigh, his gaze meeting yours, filled with regret and something that might have been regret. You knew that arguing about what had happened wouldn't change anything, but you couldn't help but feel the frustration that had been building.

"I'll take care of ruling while you recover. You don't have to worry," you added, leaning down to place a small kiss on his lips before taking a seat on the other side of the bed.

The thought of Aemond taking control filled you with unease. Aegon might be a stubborn and reckless king, but Aemond would be an implacable and ruthless ruler. You couldn't allow his rigid and severe vision to prevail in these delicate times.

Aegon tried to respond, but exhaustion and pain overcame him. He surrendered to sleep, his breathing still labored but calmer.

As you stood by his side, your mind filled with resolutions. You would not allow Aemond to give a single order. You would temporarily take the reins of the kingdom, ensuring that decisions were made with wisdom and compassion.

For all you knew, Aemond had taken over as Prince Regent, but you wouldn't let him take all the reins of power. You walked quickly to the council room, where the meeting had already begun. The guards opened the doors for you when they saw you stop in front of the room.

The lords stood up when they saw you enter, except for Aemond and Alicent, who watched you with interest.

"Your Majesty, what are you doing here?" asked Ser Criston, who now held the position of Hand of the King. Aegon's choice to put someone who only knew strength in such a diplomatic position had always struck you as a questionable decision.

You walked to the center of the room with natural authority, eyeing each member of the council before answering.

“I have come to ensure that the kingdom remains in order during King Aegon's recovery,” you said in a firm voice, making it clear that you were not there to argue.

Aemond watched you with a mix of challenge and curiosity. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined not to give up even an ounce of power that could result in reckless decisions.

“With all due respect, sister, I am already taking charge of the affairs of the kingdom as Prince Regent,” Aemond said, his voice filled with cold authority.

"I know, Aemond. But I am the queen, and it is my duty to rule in the king's absence," you replied, looking directly into Aemond's eyes with unwavering determination.

Aemond frowned, clearly irritated by your statement, but before he could respond, you raised your hand, cutting him off with studied calm.

“Get up from my chair,” you said, your voice resounding with a mix of firmness and serenity.

The silence in the council room was palpable. All eyes were on the two of you, and the air was thick with tension. Aemond looked at you with fierce intensity, but finally stood up with a sharp gesture.

You approached the chair with quiet grace, taking your place at the council table. The lords, recognizing your authority, sat back down, while a servant brought you a new cup which they filled with wine. Aemond, after a tense moment, took a seat in the chair across from you, his gaze fixed on you.

"Ser Criston, what is our position?" you asked, your voice firm.

"We have taken control of Rook's Rest," Ser Criston answered, his tone confident.

"And the head of Princess Rhaenys's dragon?" you inquired, as you leaned back in your chair, taking in the information, your fingers tapping lightly on the rim of the glass.

“The traitor's dragon,” Aemond interjected, clearly annoyed, his voice sharp.

You turned your gaze to him, your eyes shining with a mix of determination and authority.

“Traitor or not, Rhaenys was a Targaryen, and she will be given a burial like any other dragon rider,” you declared, your voice echoing firmly in the room.

Aemond frowned, but did not immediately reply. The lords exchanged nervous glances, while Alicent watched silently, evaluating every word and gesture.

"We cannot allow our own blood to be treated with disdain, even in times of war. We must show respect and maintain our dignity," you continued. "I will order that the remains of Princess Rhaenys be prepared for a proper burial."

Ser Criston nodded, taking note of your words.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he responded, his voice showing renewed respect.

Aemond finally broke the silence, his tone still filled with defiance.

"Let's not forget that we are at war. Showing respect is one thing, but we must be ruthless with our enemies" he said, his gaze fixed on you.

"I know, Aemond. And we will be ruthless," you replied, your words filled with steel. "But our strength also lies in our ability to maintain our principles and our humanity."

After ending the meeting, you stood up gracefully and left the council room. Arriving at Aegon's room, you found that he was still asleep, his pale and serene face contrasting with the visible wounds that were still healing.

You carefully approached the bed, feeling a lump in your throat seeing him in that state. You sighed softly, letting go for a moment of the weight of the war and politics that now consumed you. You took a seat next to the bed, watching his calm and regular breathing.

You carefully stroked his head, your fingers gently sliding through his blonde hair, now messy and dull. With each caress, you felt a deep connection, a longing to offer him comfort and protection in the midst of his fragility. His skin, still warm to the touch, responded slightly to your touch, as if his body recognized the security that only you could provide him.

You leaned towards him, placing a light kiss on his forehead. You stayed there, with your face close to his, listening to his breathing and feeling his presence. The silence in the room was almost sacred, broken only by the rhythmic sound of his breathing and the beating of your own heart.

While your fingers continued their journey through his hair, your other hand gently rested on his chest, feeling the weak but constant beat of his heart. You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself a respite in that small sanctuary of peace.

Your movements were slow and careful, each touch loaded with love and dedication. You didn't need words to express what you felt; Every caress, every kiss on his forehead and cheeks spoke of your commitment and devotion. You leaned slightly, resting your head on his shoulder, seeking comfort in the physical closeness, feeling his warmth and the soft movement of his breath under your cheek.

Time seemed to stop as you stood there, wrapping Aegon in a cocoon of tenderness and care. Despite the wounds and the pain, in that moment, in that silent intimacy, you felt a renewed strength, an unwavering certainty that together you could face any adversity.

With a final sigh, you lifted your head and gently kissed his forehead again, sealing a silent promise to always be by his side. You stayed there, not moving, allowing the tranquility of the moment to settle in your heart.

318 notes · View notes

apompkwrites · 6 months ago

Text

the school-bound kingscholar || leona kingscholar

masterlist characters: Mwezi Miji Trio (OCs), Leona, Ruggie (platonic) genre: Angst contains: (Brief) Swearing, Possible OOC moments (depending on how you view Leona and Ruggie [mainly Leona]) summary: Following the admittance of Night Raven College's newest freshmen, both Kingscholars begin to come to terms with the newest changes in their lives. notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING AGAIN OTZ. Unfortunately, my lapses of writer's block and demotivation have only increased since I last posted. I'm trying to get back into the hang of posting things (as evident by my art account suddenly coming alive again). ALSO! As you can tell by the formatting, I'm actually writing with proper grammar on Tumblr now! Right now, I don't plan to go back to reformat the older chapters, but maybe once I find the drive to do it, I will! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it <3 parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]

Leona felt something knock the air out of his lungs. To Ruggie, who stood right beside him in a robe that was a few inches too long, it was hilarious. Seeing the very prince (well, second prince) of the Afterglow Savanna lose his composure was enough to make Ruggie let out a quiet "Shyeheehee" under his breath before he ultimately straightened his posture under Leona's pointed glare.

Nothing could have prepared Leona to see (Name) again. Honestly, he had long since come to terms with the fact that his little sibling was missing, lost to the Outlands and likely a rotting corpse in the middle of nowhere.

He's lying, he could never come to terms with that, no matter how much he deluded himself.

But they were here. They were here and they were walking closer and they looked exactly the same as he remembered them.

Well, obviously, not exactly. But they looked so familiar and yet so different at the same time. Leona didn't even notice the tip of his tail swishing behind him until he heard one of his dorm members complaining about a tickling sensation against his ankles. And that only caused Leona to grumble under his breath and snatch the base of his tail to stop it from moving.

By the Seven, had they changed. They seemed bolder and more confident compared to the last time he had seen them. The way their shoulders were no longer hunched forward and instead rolled back in a pride strut he wished he could attribute to someone who had come to accept their own status or the way their eyes seemed sharper rather than soft and wide with innocence. And their hands. By the gods, what happened to their hands...? No, they had changed severely, akin to the way Leona recalled seeing the royal guards before and after their training.

Something had happened, that much he could figure out. And as much as he wanted to advance the board, reach out, and capture them like a king in a game of chess, he couldn't. Not when they were surrounded by a queen and two rooks.

"Ignore him," Nuru advised, although his words were more of a formality if anything. He knew how well you could handle yourself, but this was a unique situation.

"I know," you replied curtly, flipping your hood back on and sidling up to Nuru's right side. Jabori immediately flanked your other side in turn, followed by Jabali. It was a familiar formation, one that the four of you had cultivated for as long as you could remember.

"It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," you whisper. However, the sharp pain lingering in your chest said otherwise.

Student after student soon began trickling out of each coffin, repeating the painstaking process of standing in front of the mirror, listening to its spiel about their innermost workings, before joining whatever dorm they were assigned to. Until finally, finally--

"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" One of the hooded figures lamented, his hand perched prim and properly on his hip. If you didn't any better, you'd assume that he was royalty or nobility. But, judging from his scent alone, he wasn't.

"Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever," Leona yawned, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he turned on his heels, facing the mass of hooded figures now under his care. "I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."

He went to take a step amidst the other chattering dorm leaders before the doors slammed open, the handles banging against the wall from the force at which it swung. Leona groaned in response, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Psst, Nuru," Jabali called from his spot beside Jabori, leaning forward to actually see him. "Are you sure this is the right place? We're actually supposed to find answers from..."

Jabali paused and motioned out towards the commotion now terrorizing the mirror chamber. The little gray cat scampered around the floor, setting fire to whatever he could in some strange show of physical prowess and magical ability. "...These people?!"

Nuru said nothing at first. From where you stood beside him, you could tell doubt was beginning to creep up behind him. Lucky for him, Jabori decided to take the lead.

"This is Night Raven College," he points out, pulling back the hood of his robe by a hair to peer over at his twin. "Pretty much everyone here, especially the dorm leaders, are adept at some kind of magic. I mean, look."

This time, Jabori pointed towards the commotion, his finger following the way that the redhead shot a spell in the cat's direction, materializing a red and black collar around its neck.

"It's the best shot we have," he concludes, nodding in support of Nuru. That single gesture instantly calmed Nuru down, his shoulders no longer hunched up and his wings relaxing behind him. You merely smiled and patted his forearm in response. Jabali, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms in begrudging compliance.

"Fine. But I'm not gonna get along with 'em or nothin'," Jabali huffed, rolling his eyes. Jabori laughed lightly at his brother's annoyance while Nuru let out a single huff of air.

"I wasn't gonna ask you too, either," Nuru hummed, glancing at Jabali from his peripheral. "Same goes for both of you, (Name), Jabori."

"Copy that," you nodded, the quiet chuckle that seemed to bubble from your throat disappearing the second Leona turned to face you and the rest of the new Savanaclaw members.

"You heard the headmage. I'm headin' back," Leona grumbled and, without missing a beat, brushed past the crowd and headed towards the door. Another hooded figure, one who had been standing beside Leona the entire ceremony, let out an exasperated sigh before raising his hand.

"Savanaclaw! Follow me," he ordered, earning a few half-hearted "Yes, sir"s from the rest of the huddled crowd.

You had to admit, it was pretty entertaining watching Jabali and Jabori marvel at the size of the campus halls. And Nuru too, if only he'd have more obvious reactions rather than just a single flick of a wing or a tilt of the head.

While the halls were nothing compared to the Kingscholar home, it was still pretty big. If you were any smaller than you were now, you'd probably react the same way.

"No way they need these doors to be this big," Jabali murmured, lightly elbowing your arm and pointing at one of the classroom doors. Your eyes followed his finger and a snicker managed to escape you. He wasn't wrong, those doors were freakishly huge, both in height and width.

Jabali went to comment on something else before he stopped, his eyes drifting over toward the new mirror chamber everyone had been led to. The doors were held open to accommodate the crowd, letting handfuls of students walk towards a mirror and get sucked into it, the glass rippling as if took wisps of bodies and left nothing in its wake.

"Savanaclaw House! This'll be your only way in and out of the dorm," the same hooded figure that led you all here called out. He had hopped up onto the lip of the mirror's decoration, using one of the rib-like sculptures as an armrest.

"Hurry up and get in! The faster you do, the faster you'll get to claim your rooms," he snickered before skipping ahead of the first dorm member and hopping into the mirror.

The prospect of first come first served seemed to spur on the first years, causing a near stampede of people trying to get into the mirror first. Nuru hooked an arm around your waist while Jabali did the same with Jabori, the two of them finding a single break in the crowd to get away, Nuru through flight, and Jabali through scaling one of the pillars by the wall.

Lucky for the four of you, the mirror seemed to accommodate more and more people as the crowd diminished. Perhaps through how many bodies reached a specific threshold, you thought. Regardless of the magical mechanics, it allowed Nuru and Jabali to let you and Jabori down after a few minutes.

"So many people," you grumbled under your breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Jabori. Nuru and Jabali nodded at your observation before the four of you hopped into the mirror yourselves.

Immediately, the four of you felt the familiar searing heat of the sun beating down on your skin. It almost felt like home if not for the increased heat coming from the fire serving as lights just outside the dorm's entrance.

Jabali and Nuru were the first to shrug off their robes, the former because he finally had enough of the stuffy fabric, and the latter because the heat was already starting to congregate around his feathers. You and Jabori followed suit, although the two of you merely hiked up your sleeves and flipped down your hoods.

Nuru shook out his wings and let out a soft grunt, one of his feathers falling into the sand beneath your feet. Turning to look over his shoulder, he shot the three of you a soft, almost comforting smile.

"Off we go, then," he hums, waving for you all to follow. If it were anyone else, you three probably would've found offense to a command as expectant as that. But it wasn't just anyone else. It was Nuru, the Guardian, and your dear friend.

The inside of Savanclaw was nothing really to marvel at like the rest of the school's campus. It wasn't cramped, per se, but it was quite a bit more tight than to your liking. Luckily, the walkway opened up the building quite a bit with the roped bridges connecting each floor.

Nuru scanned the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a room on the top floor, tucked all the way in the furthest corner. You figured everyone else left it since it was so far and their mentalities were focusing on that first come first served promise your leader from before declared.

Nuru unfurled his wings and shot up past the bridges, making a beeline towards the unoccupied room. He didn't have to go that fast, of course, considering only a few students were lingering in the walkways who sure as hell weren't planning on making the long walk up there.

Jabali seemed to share their sentiment considering his frustrated "Damn it, Nuru" muttered under his breath. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped his lips before he trudged up along the nearest bridge, his hands shoved in his pockets and his robe slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

You and Jabori took a more relaxed walk up behind him, appreciating the familiar decorations that reminded you of your hometown. Of course, that appreciation turned into apprehension at the thought of Mwezi Miji now being unguarded by the main four.

What if something happened? What if they had sent word of an all-out war between themselves and the Dens and you hadn't heard of it since you all were knocked out in coffins? What if they were all already--

"On your right," Nuru called to you from the doorway, his hand shooting out to grab your shoulder. Ah, you had gotten distracted. Nuru shot you a concerned glance, his brows furrowed in the same way they always were when you got stuck in your head before he ushered you into the room.

Jabali and Jabori had already claimed their beds on the left side of the room, Jabali near the door and Jabori near the window. This left the entire right side open for you and Nuru.

The winged beastman glanced over at you, patiently waiting for your next move. You caught his glance and mustered up a small smile before heading towards the bed closest to the door. Nuru subtly lit up at your decision, a little skip in his step as he moved towards the window.

You managed to hold back a snort at his hidden excitement. He always loved the window spot. Maybe it reminded him of when he was small enough to fit through them back home.

"So, what's up with you and that new first year, huh?" Ruggie huffed as he walked straight into Leona's room, leaning down to pick up a discarded shirt and dropping it in the laundry basket. "I've never seen you react that way other than with them."

"Watch your words, Ruggie," Leona growls from the bed, his head already buried in his pillow. His back was facing Ruggie who still stood in the doorway, but with the way his ears were perked up, it was fairly obvious that he wasn't even close to sleeping.

"My bad," Ruggie snicked in response, holding up his hands defensively. "But, seriously, who was that? Someone I need to watch the pockets of? I mean, who else would it be if not roy--"

"Out," Leona demanded, his hand latching onto his pillow and launching it backward at Ruggie, the soft fabric turning into dust and scattering across the floor as he muttered the incantation under his breath. Ruggie yelped and scampered out of the room, throwing the door closed behind him before he could see the pillow disintegrate into sand.

Leona took a single breath through his nose before slowly sitting up. He rubbed at his face before reaching over to the desk placed beside his bed, his fingers curling around the drawer's handle and pulling it open.

Underneath notebooks thrown carelessly inside lay a single photograph. It was small, yet free of any creases. He lifted the books off of it before slipping the photo out, nearly cradling it in his palm.

Back when he first found the photo tucked neatly in one of his notebooks, he grimaced. It was an annoying keepsake, one that only served to remind him of the bothersome family waiting for him back home. But now...

Now the sight of his little sibling smiling ever so brightly while his older brother screamed in the background about a bug in his hair brought the smallest twitch of a smile to his lips.

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @ayra2452008 @tinywho-man @spadecentral @justeclem44 @kenma-izhu @mulandi @sadimon @stormyovent0aster @sn00zl4x @f1fty-f1fty @bloomed-night-flower @madusas-girlfriend @b0nkers-papaya @arandomeroacher @randonamedcl @potabletable @meerpea @luvcalico @chlousp @prettyinblack231 @dindarasuum @elizaboba @ravenlking @reveristmain @lasignoramybeloved @poto-de-michi @sherryuki-callmeyuki @cadit-in-aestus-sidereum @valeriele3 @munchkinkazooie @venusdandy @Leviathansgamerbuddy @poorunfortunatesimp @yarnoverpullthru @potablee @sunnydaze4ever @anxious-chick @silvers-tongue @minteaspoon @kitty-chan33 @hornehlittleweeblet2 @letskeepitsimpleshallwe @atsuki-mitsuri @catgirlwannabe @miss-puregotti @havens-not-here @sacrificialwife1 @cherrykissesss890 @a-random-bored-person @shuriiiewrites @chaos-inperson @1midnightcoffee @mizucika @lunavixia @gasoline-eater @thesirenwashere @rainingdandelion @thomanok @BakabaneSimp @mariesakamari @steruberry @potatohuman04 @illnesscomm @blu3b3rri-p4yn3 @kahunap @turtleducker @BooPleg03 @twst-rui @rotting-nerium @devilfishcafe @marisely03 @angelthoughtz @valka-230 @kih-lux @honestlyyoungcandy

297 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 11 days ago

Text

of rage and ruin - chapter seven

chapter seven

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: the fog clears, the morning comes, and you and joel must reckon with what you've done.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, attempted sexual assault (NOT by joel, very unsuccessful)

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you woke some hazy amount of time later, after the last of the heat had burned through your veins, you were curled up against his side. One decidedly human finger, blunt nail and all, was tracing over the curve of your cheek and temple. The rest of the hand followed, brushing over your head and leaving your scalp tingling in its wake.

You feign sleep just to feel the brush of his knuckles over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips.

A warm wash of something fond rushes through him. It ain’t love, he knows that. Isn’t sure it ever will be, isn’t sure he’s even capable anymore. But whatever it is fizzes like goosebumps under his skin.

“Y’ain’t foolin’ me,” he murmurs, soft and low.

You crack the tiniest, crooked smile and press a kiss to his thumb. He pushes it between your lips, which part easily for him. He groans as you stroke it with your tongue, suckling on him and tasting the lingering tart salt of where he’d touched you both.

“Thought you were all tuckered out.” The words are more of a rumble from his chest than anything, but you’re close enough to make sense of it.

“Mmm,” you agree sleepily. But you’d be lying if you said the last tendrils of arousal weren’t far more interesting than your fatigue. His thumb is good, but it’s not what you want.

He chuckles, drawing the digit from your lips, which turn down into a pout. He pinches your bottom lip gently. “None o’ that, darlin’,” he says. “F’you want it, I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You help yourself to a seat across his legs and take a moment to just splay yourself across his body, head on his shoulder. The hard, insistent length of his cock is trapped between your soft stomachs and you can feel a thin, sticky trail of his arousal.

Your lips find his neck in tender, open-mouthed kisses, more intent than finesse. They’re sloppy, a lazy pursuit of his flesh in your mouth as you suck and bite and let the marshmallow fluff that is what’s left of your insides bubble up with the rising warmth of affection, as if you might become full of it otherwise and pop like the Stay Puft Man.

Nobody wants that, so you cover Joel in the sticky sweetness of your growing fondness.

There’s none of the urgency, none of the clawing for purchase, the pursuit of teeth and flesh. It’s languid in a way your life hasn’t allowed for in a long, long time.

The hazy afterglow is intoxicating, and just as neither of you are ignorant to what will come later, neither of you are in a rush to get to it. Let the guilt and hurt and confusion wait. There’s enough time for that.

No, now is for the last vestiges of easy intimacy. No shame as you lap at his skin, tasting the musk of him, kissing his chest and the thick muss of hair that leads to your prize.

You take time to kiss his thighs, no more teeth or sharpness to you. His hand finds your head but doesn’t pry or push or guide. It just rests, another point of connection between you, an almost sorrowful attempt to keep the threads that bind you intact.

The fact that they can never be broken, now, is a conversation for later. Not that you understand, really. There’s a thrum to the wound on your shoulder, a steady throb of alpha, but he knows you don’t really know. That the gravity of what he’s done to you is beyond your reach right now.

He’s selfish, though, and tucks it away for later. It’ll be hard enough. He steals this moment, greedy for this interval where you don’t fear him anymore and you don’t hate him, yet.

Because he can’t imagine you’ll ever forgive what he did. What he’s taken from you. What he’s going to keep taking.

But for now, you’re content to be his, if only for this moment, and he’s painfully aware of how rare content moments are in this world. The wolf wouldn’t dare let him sour your scent with rejection or neglect. And there’s a part of the man, too, that needs this, even if he can’t cope with that yet.

And he does. Need this, that is. Need you, here, safe and soft and satiated. There’s no pretending you aren’t in hell, with his back pressed against the cold tile walls as he holds you on the world’s tiniest mattress with the flimsy fleece blanket falling from your nude body. It doesn’t cover him but he doesn’t care, doesn’t need it. Hasn’t had the luxury of something like a blanket in years, now, and you, you’re delicate even if you aren’t. Delicate to him while still so strong, with all you have and are and will endure.

His body could snap yours in an instant. His body could, but he could never. Not you. Not his perfect, precious girl. Never mind that he doesn’t really know you. He knows this you, the one that’s his. And he’ll learn the rest.

Because there’s nowhere on this wretched earth you could hide from him now. The gentle throb of your own mark on him makes sure of that. He will always find you. His girl. His omega.

His.

Any other thoughts are lost as you nuzzle your cheek against his balls, peppering tbem with gentle kisses and little kitten licks. He groans, pulling one leg back to make room for you to settle in, to make a little nest for yourself to do as you please. And he’s more than happy to let you do as you please with his body. As far as he’s concerned, it’s all for you. Oh, God, especially if you keep doing that. He moans as you cradle his balls, feeding them gently into the warm cavern of your mouth.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, head tipping back, hand cupping your cheek.

His balls are musky with three days of dried cum and sweat, but it’s ambrosia. You can’t get enough, nose buried between his cock and sac, licking at them like a velvet delicacy. It’s still not enough. Maybe nothing will be enough, but you take one in your mouth, rolling it on your tongue and groaning. They’re already swollen, heavy, and heady.

It’s still not enough, so you use your hand to help accommodate both.

He can’t help but buck his hips a little when he feels the way your cheeks bulge, stuffed so full of his balls as you lick and suck so gently, almost reverently. “Ah, darlin’, please,” he gasps when your hand curls around his shaft, tightly at the base and squeezes.

You take pity on him and press a kiss to each ball before pulling away to suck little tiny kisses along the underside of his cock. His thighs tense around you, holding so, so still so he doesn’t jerk and hurt you. The wolf is quiet, the worries are quiet, it’s just you. You and him.

His heels dig into the mattress, every line of his body taut. He’s not even sure what form he’s in anymore, because it doesn’t fucking matter. The only thing that matters is your hot mouth as you ease the fat tip of his aching cock between your lips, a tight seal locking him in like it’s his knot in your cunt. You suck without mercy, tongue lapping at him, the rest of his cock neglected as you orchestrate this sweet torture.

His fist falls from you to smack against the mattress, nails digging into his palm as he swears low and slow.

“Baby. Darlin’, please,” he begs, unabashed. You’re the only one he’d plead for. Only one in the world he’d give himself to like this. After all, you’ve given him everything. Everything that you are, everything that you’ll ever be, it’s all his now. It’s only fair if you have all of him in return.

And, oh, you take all of him. One inch at a time, you take all of him into heaven, your throat pried open by his girth. It’s not an easy task, but you’ve devoted yourself to it. He wouldn’t have minded if you couldn’t; knows he’s not an easy man to accommodate. Would have still lost his goddamn mind in the embrace of your mouth and caress of your tongue.

But you’re determined, and he’s soon to learn you ain’t a quitter. Not when you want somethin’. And he learns that when his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag, fingers digging into his thighs as you hold on for leverage, but you don’t fuckin’ back down.

“Tha’s it,” he breathes, a shuddery gasp as he feels you constrict around him, choking his cock like it’s choking you. “So good, honey. So fuckin’ good to me.”

It takes an effort on your part that he feels deeply guilty about to bring him to orgasm. To be fair, he’s not getting any younger, and he’d spilled load after load into your greedy pussy during your heat. But he sees that steadfast determination again as he offers to finish with his hand, and you shoot him a nasty, reproachful look, smacking his hand away like he’s tried to take a bowl away from a starving mutt.

For all that you complain about omegas being just extra-wet humans, he can see the feral wolf behind your eyes. Sure, you’ll never turn. It’s not in your nature, the physical change. But you’re on the same leash as him, really.

He cups your cheek as you swallow him down, a strained whine seeping from gritted teeth as he spills down your throat. His mind goes to white and static and you.

He guides you off his softening cock, and you scoot up to rest your head on his belly. One hand idly plays with the hair scattered there, while one of his traces lazy spirals on your shoulder.

You blink lazily up at him, and that’s the only way he realizes he’s gone half wolf. The possessive beast can’t stay away, and to his very human chagrin, he leans down and licks your face from chin to cheek before lapping at the mark on your shoulder. It’s already healing, but just for good measure.

Since you arrived, Joel had spent more time human than he had in the last three years combined. It was a constant effort, when he did. To remember. To be gentle. To be… exposed.

He had stayed carefully delineated, either man or wolf.

He can’t really maintain it anymore. But you don’t seem to mind. Don’t seem to mind when his muzzle stretches, when the hair gets thicker all over his body. When his teeth sharpen, or his claws.

No, you don’t seem to mind at all.

You sigh softly, and it’s achingly affectionate. You’re still hazy, floating in the afterglow of your heat, all sweet submission and peace. He wants to burrow you away somewhere, keep you cozy and hidden away from the cruelty of your life.

“It fuckin’ stinks in here,” groans one of the men you call the Idiot Twins.

Joel snarls, brought to humiliation for the second time in ten minutes as he realizes he was too caught up in you to hear someone come down.

Two someones. It’s both of them this time, laden with trays of food to make up for the days you went without. His, as usual, is piled high with thick cuts of raw meat and starchy vegetables.

Yours, though, makes him scowl. Just broth, it’s always just fuckin’ broth, the stock leftover from the meat they cook for themselves. That or oatmeal.

The raiders keep up a banter about the smell of sex and sweat that permeates the cellar now. One starts up lewd comments about your bare body, and Joel growls, hackles raising.

He tries to ignore them and hands you a bowl of roasted potatoes when one of them suddenly slams his baton against the door. “No,” he says. “That ain’t for her. Drop it, bitch.”

“I’ll give her my food if I fuckin’ want,” Joel sneers.

“You��ll keep to your own trays, or she’s goin’ back across the hall. We ain’t wastin’ that on your little whore.”

You put a hand on Joel’s arm. “It’s not worth it,” you mutter. “I’m fine.” As if he can’t hear your stomach rumble most of the time. As if he hasn’t noticed the general malaise about you, as you scrape by on literal scraps.

You can feel the rumble of his discontent but he snaps his mouth shut, jaw working overtime.

“Speaking of,” one of the men says, a sharp smirk growing. “C’mere, bitch.”

Joel bristles again and you try to ignore him.

“I said come here,” Tall, Dumb, and Ugly repeats. “Now. Or you’re gonna get it good.” He taps his baton against the bars.

When he calls you over, something prickles, rankling the hair on the back of his neck. It’s probably nothing. It’s probably wash day. It’s probably something normal.

But it doesn’t feel like it.

He watches you go, resisting the urge to pull you back to him, to tuck you close to his body, to keep you where no one can see you behind his bulk.

But he watches you go.

He regrets it immediately.

“Down on your knees, hands behind your head,” the thug barks, but he doesn’t wait. He pushes you down, and one hand grabs the back of your neck.

The other goes to his belt.

Joel’s off his ass and at the gate in an instant, but he can’t reach. He can only watch as you try to rear back.

“Hey, man, I dunno if that’s a good idea,” says the other raider, to the surprise of everyone.

“Jim keeps a girl. Chris keeps a girl. We ain’t allowed, but the fuckin’ pet gets a pet? Nah, man. I’m gettin’ my share.”

You meet Joel’s eyes from the corner of yours, and somehow, somehow, he knows what you’re not asking. He bares his teeth, snarling, and you lunge.

Your teeth sink into the raider’s arm before he can get his dick out, and you show no fucking mercy.

Joel howls, loud and nasty, a threat, as you bite down hard. You’ve never bitten a person before, let alone hard enough to break skin.

Oh, and you do. You’re merciless. Your first act of real violence and it’s brutal. Hot, coppery blood floods around your teeth and you pull away, spitting repeatedly.

The man is screaming, clutching his arm, demanding that his compatriot do something, but the other raider is backing away slowly.

There’s a clattering of heavy boots down the stairs, and Jim comes around the corner with his pistol raised.

“No!” Joel yells, reaching for you as you scramble back to where he can reach you.

“Get in there,” Jim snaps at the man you bit.

“Fuckin’ shoot her; she bit me,” he argues.

“Get in there, or I’ll shoot you,” Jim barks.

The accomplice and another man who’d come with Jim grab the injured motherfucker by the arms and throw him in what used to be your prison across the hall. Jim hauls you up by the elbow and points the gun at Joel, who backs away immediately.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t blow her fuckin’ brains out,” he hisses.

“I made her do it,” Joel says quickly. “I made her bite him. He was trying to touch what’s mine.”

“Tch,” Jim sneers. “Bullshit.”

“You fuckin’ listen to me, Jim,” Joel snarls around his fangs. “I told her to do it, and she’s my omega. Don’t you know she gotta listen to me? She can’t tell me no.”

Jim hesitates, glowering. The pistol knocks a little whimper from you, pressing against the side of your head.

“I’m serious,” Joel pushes. “Everyone fuckin’ knows omegas can’t disobey a direct order.”

That’ll do it. He knows Jim hates to be made to look stupid.

“Fine,” Jim says gruffly. Joel backs away so Jim can open the door, tossing you inside.

“Watch him,” he says to one of his henchmen, jerking a head to the door across the hall.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don’t know if her bite can turn him. Watch him. If he starts actin’ funny, call me.”

You’re not really sure how he got you over to the mattress without your notice, but he’s there, crowding over you, hands patting your face, turning your head to inspect your neck, running down your arms. He’s meticulous, and you sit still for it, in a bit of a daze.

“E-everything happened so fast,” you whisper eventually, and his hands come up to cup your cheeks.

“Wasn’t your fault. You did good. You did so good,” he says, pulling you close.

“He was gonna…”

“I know. I know, darlin’.”

His heart beats steady under your ear, one large palm cradling your head there and the other keeping you tucked in close. He rocks you a little, though you don’t think he knows he’s doing it. The gravel and rumble of his voice, his assurances that should be patronizing, his sharp claws so close to your delicate flesh, it should all have you pushing away.

But you don’t. Instead, you wrap your arms around his chest and burrow in, eyes squeezed shut tight against the burn and sting of residual fear.

“Were you telling the truth?” you ask quietly after a while.

“Hmm?”

“About the whole obeying orders thing. Can you… force me to do things?”

He snorts. “Course not. But he bought it, didn’t he? Doesn’t know a damn thing.”

The answer sits unsteady between your ribs. You want to believe him. You do. But you can’t forget the way his words make you feel sometimes, like you’re moving through sludge, like you’re drawn to him by some cosmic leash.

You want to believe him.

But you don’t.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel miller #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #werewolf!joel miller #tlou fic #dead dove fic #omegaverse #a/b/o fic

124 notes · View notes

daichiduskdrop · 1 year ago

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 12

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: Slight mentions of unhealthy eating habits

Words: 3358

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Smiling at the calming words, you rested fully against the alpha's shoulder, his large hands curling around your upper back, pulling you closer.

Hoseok chuckled at the soft interaction, knowing well that Yoongi was acting against his usual cold and shy nature, just for you. He wouldn't let even the youngest cuddle with him, and that said something.

You were just special for them.

Driving carefully, the car went slowly. There wasn't any snow falling at the current time, but the roads were glistening with ice, and so the alpha tried to avoid any possible accidents.

It didn't take much more than 20 minutes before they were able to see the university building from the main road. Turning on the closest street, Jungkook drove the vehicle to the parking lot available for the students.

When entering the school, along with a few other important documents and cards, all the students received a parking access card, allowing them to save some money.

Not a lot of the people there actually used it; it was much more common for them to just use the train, bus, or anything along those lines. A car was just an expense not many could afford.

Most of the students were betas, or alphas, because the lectures and assignments brought a high stress level that wasn't advised for omegas to endure every day. It was usual for alphas to drive cars; betas most of the time also had the licence, but for omegas, it was fairly unusual.

Passing the tests with the second-gender burden was just unlikely. Plus, even if some lucky ones managed to pass, most likely paid behind their backs by their pack alphas, they wouldn't always actually get the licence.

It wasn't a very honourable act to pay to pass any tests or bypass any important rules, but if a pack omega just so wanted to learn how to drive for whatever reason, would study so well for it, and would be nervous during any of the practise drives, the pack would just eventually soften up.

It was just harsh to see them fail and look so sad after it happened; usually the omegas would end up crying because of it too.

"They wouldn't need the licence anyways," was usually what the teachers at the driving school would say, blatantly obvious with just not wanting to allow them to drive.

Car accidents could end terribly, and a pack that has lost their omega for such things would most definitely carry the burden for way longer than healthy.

It was true, though; the passenger princess privelage omegas held was just too powerful.

And so, the parking lot was mostly empty, occupied in only at very few spots. Getting in the line before the lifting barrier, only a few cars stood before the pack's.

Noticing the driver being let in only after scanning a card, Jungkook turned to look at you, palms still holding the wheel fully.

„Babybun? Do you have card access for the parking lot, sweet bunny?” Nodding, you took your backpack from next to you, rummaging through it until you fished out your wallet.

Going through the many passes you didn't really use, you took out the dark blue card, which had a barcode at its bottom with your information printed out on top.

Handing it to Jin, he gave it to Jungkook's outstretched hand. Thanking you gently, the alpha drove a few metres forward after the last car went through.

Pulling the window down, he let the scan recognise your access, and the barrier pulled up right after. Driving in, he turned to park at one of the bigger slots, making sure not to bump into anyone's car.

Turning the engine off, seatbelts unbuckled, and doors opened, with you also slipping out in time. Yoongi carried your backpack for you and held it by one of the straps.

Zipping up your now slightly opened jacket for you, Jungkook smiled widely at you. „I'll keep the card for when one of us comes to pick you up later, okay, bun?” Rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, his warm and soft eyes settled on your form.

Nodding at it, you didn't have any issue with it. Turning to your backpack, you took out your college ID and hung it around your neck with the strap.

With the time quickly approaching closer and closer to 8, the alphas decided that going from the oldest to the youngest, they would share their goodbyes. With the first alpha approaching you, he took a hold of both of your hands, intertwining your fingers and squeezing them.

„Sweet cub, have fun at lessons today, okay? You can tell me all about them later. Text us if you need anything; we are always available for you. And eat your lunch well; I made it extra tasty just for you.”

Cooing at you, Jin stepped closer to you, his body feeling warm even through all the layers. His chin rubbed softly over the top of your head, scenting you just the smallest bit.

Stepping back, the man allowed his packmates to also say their goodbyes, but even then, he didn't let his eyes waver from your form, watching closely over you.

„My sweet kitten. Have a good day, hm? If anything happens, alphas are always ready to come here and get you. Pay attention in lessons and stay out of trouble, kitty.”

Yoongi didn't show much affection, instead choosing to just scent you, being much less obvious about it. Rubbing his hands around your soft face tenderly, he let his wrist scent glands do the trick.

After making deep eye contact with the alpha for a few seconds, he pulled away, helping you put on your backpack.

Smiling widely at you, the next alpha pulled you to his chest right away, rubbing both of his palms over your sides, being mindful not to bump into your bag.

„Sunshine, have a great day. What is your schedule today anyway?"

„Um..I have to meet my course leader first, since it's Monday. I'll be in the studio until lunch break, and then I should have some lectures and then continue on some assignments again.” You said, thinking about your schedule for the day.

Usually, it was pretty much the same every day, but Mondays were a bit different, with meeting up with the course leader in the morning. They were there to explain and inform you about any upcoming events or assignments for the week, going over all the work you have done for the past week.

„That sounds like a lot, bub. You aren't too tired now, are you? My baby, be careful on yourself, please.” Already getting too worried for any good reason, he wrapped his arms around your head, pushing you under his chin.

Breathing in your scent, he felt his nerves settle down a bit. With his chin gently going over your hairline, he too left a bit of his scent lingering on you. Pursing his lips in disappointment, he pulled away after prolonging the hug for a good few seconds, gently rubbing your shoulders before he stepped away.

„Okay, babypup, pay good attention to your lessons, sweetheart. Make sure you do well in your classes, and if anything happens, tell the alphas right away; we are here to protect you.” Looking into your eyes with his neck bended towards you, you nodded at Packalpha's words.

Gentle and caring, yet strict at the same time. Namjoon always cared about studies, and you doing well in your lessons was very important to him. He knew a bit about art, but even if he didn't, he was more than willing to study anything to be able to help you if you had any troubles.

Gently patting the back of your head for a few rhythms, he hummed in approval when you nodded. Rubbing his cheek on your hair, he let his scent cover you fully. You gripped his fingers tightly before you let him pull away again.

„Aigoo, princess, make sure you have lots of fun with your classmates today, hm? We already added you to our group chat, so make sure you message us throughout the day, sweet baby. Alphas will get worried otherwise!”

Whining through his chuckles, Jimin shook you softly, making you also erupt in soft giggles. Pleased with the sound, he also carefully pulled you close to his body, snuggling up against your warm neck and cheeks.

With you well scented, he felt satisfied with his work, allowing the other alphas to also say their goodbyes.

„Babycheeks, be careful alright? If anyone picks on you, you tell us immediately. Do you understand? ...good girl. Take photos of what you made; you can show me later today. I would love to see.”

Nodding into his neck, you breathed in the musky scent he carried. He felt worried about leaving you out of his sight after having you drop twice already these past two days. It was just worrying for him.

With his fingers combing through your hair, Taehyung squeezed your cheeks a little, pinching them and laughing widely at your face. You were just adorable, weren't you?

With his small wrist scent glands doing a good job of scenting you well, he felt satisfied with his work, letting the youngest do his own thing.

„Babybun, I will get lonely without you like this! You have to text me, okay, so I don't cry! I will, I really will—no, baby, don't laugh! Nooo, yah! Stop! Aish..” His fake sobs were just ridiculous; his face looked too funny for you to handle.

Hugging him instead, you could hear the loud coos of the other men around you, making you hide your face in the alpha's chest better. Giggling himself, he rubbed his palms over your sides himself, his knuckles caressing your cheeks gently.

Stepping away after a few more moments, you adjusted the card around your neck and shyly looked down. The men didn't leave yet, watching over you with soft eyes. Sighing out, you knew you had to go now.

„I'll go now...” You softly whispered, about to turn on your heel, when Namjoon answered.

„Be a good girl for alphas today.” The packalpha said, and with your shy nod, you made your way to the entrance of your college.

The pack watched over you fondly, making sure you left inside safely. And so, after you turned a corner, they all eventually piled back in the van, the time showing 7:54. They didn't have any strict schedules they always had to comply with, but they had scheduled meetings for the day.

They didn't mind, though; even if they were a little late, saying proper goodbyes to you was much more important to them.

Rounding the corner, you walked through the busy corridors, many scents erupting from all around you. It wasn't too loud; most of the people who studied at art schools were more introverted and quiet. Still, with the many people you didn't know well and the scents they carried, the noise was a bit overwhelming.

Shrugging off your coat and placing it in your locker, you locked it, taking just your backpack. Continuing on your way to the studios, yours was at the bottom level of the school, right next to all the printing techniques.

It was just more convenient for all the students since a lot of the time fine arts included sculptures and other various materials, and you were also used to going to the printing techniques quite frequently. The giant machines were placed downstairs for obvious reasons.

Walking through the open space where a lot of the figurative drawing classes were held, you made your way to the room you shared with the few classmates you had. Opening the doors, you bent your head so you wouldn't accidentally meet anyone's eyes.

There weren't many people in your class anyway, and sharing it with only six others was a pretty private experience if you were being honest. Fine arts weren't just that popular for a major, very understandably so.

Taking a seat at the corner of the big table, you all piled together, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

❄️

„And the curating? How is it going?” The man asked, watching over his class. The exhibitions would take place in just about a week or so, and so it was important to get the finishing touches down.

After splitting up the class into two equal groups, it was assigned for them to help curate two exhibitions, one for each. The works of the other students would be shown too, with the show held in the school building a few days before Christmas.

They had to do everything basically by themselves, and that was a lot of work, having to label everything, prepare all the work on time, and get it together with no issues.

You shared the project with two betas, a boy named Chin-Hae and another girl named Sun-Hi. They didn't let you do much stuff completely by yourself, so you more or less helped them around. Most of the talking with other students was done by them, with you being close by.

Neither of them talked too much with you, but with a few of the other classmates, they were a lot more outgoing. You didn't mind, though, feeling a little too shy to try and approach them with anything else but the project you were required to work on together.

„We are working on the posters for it right now; we still have to finalise all the names. Not much left to do.” Sun-Hi spoke, her voice sounding velvety and calm.

Even if the group seemed mostly well collected, they were more than worried. The preparations have been taking over two months now, and it's been complicated getting the work ready.

„Alright. Do you have some sketches or anything? I can look over it with you.” Nodding at that, the beta pulled out her laptop, unlocking it, and after a minute, she turned the screen to the teacher.

There wasn't much yet done for the poster; together they only decided on the colour scheme and font but didn't go too deep into how it would actually look. You had some ideas on your mind, but you didn't expect the group to actually use them.

Looking at the screen for a second, you nervously sat next to the teacher and the two other classmates opposite you. Hiding your palms under the sleeves of the jumper you wore, you huddled closer to yourself.

Nodding at your work, the teacher mentioned finishing it within two or so days at the maximum because they had to present the whole preparation process by Friday. He would be able to help them at least a little until then, but when Friday hits, he won't be able to do much.

Thanking him quietly, the teacher then went over the other students work for the assignments given for the month. Checking over how they were progressing, he was quick to give any needed help.

With every assignment, you were given a written note going over what techniques you had to use, the theme, colours, and any other notes that had to be made. Everything else was fully up to you.

With the sketches already done, you were moving quickly with the work you still had to do since it had to be done before the Christmas holidays. The critiques would be held the day after New Year's celebrations, and you had to have everything done by then.

You weren't too wowed by the theme. „What is your problem?” just sounded a bit lame to your ears, but you did get a few nice ideas you continued to work on further.

You liked that the sentence could be interpreted and said in so many different ways, from a caring and worried question all the way to a rude and sarcastic remark.

You wanted to hold on to that thought for a little longer, wanting to maybe even collaborate with someone you thought would never understand your perspective and view. And so, after telling your kind teacher about your idea, he was quick to help.

Providing you with a contact for a senior alpha man you had never met in your life before, he helped you arrange a short meeting, held on the school grounds, where the man arrived.

It was an experience you never really thought about going through before, but you decided to trust it, and you believed you would be able to make an artwork after the appointment.

And so the day you met up with the elder, you were led to the cafeteria with your teacher with you, helping you get settled down for a second or two before he also left. It was a little bit awkward at first; the alpha's face was obviously more than tired.

You still remember the bright white coat he wore and the thick knitted scarf he tightly wrapped around his neck. With a walking stick held by him, the man took a seat by the small table in the cantine, his wire-rimmed glasses perched up on his big nose.

Even when it intimidated you at first greatly, soon you went on talking with the alpha, and shockingly, he felt very sweet towards you. A bit confused with the new technologies, he was actually very nice to talk to.

When you told him about the assignment, he laughed loudly and was quick to answer the question. „I got old, and so will you.”

With the main idea of your work already so easily said by him, you now had a few nice ideas you wanted to carry out further. Wanting to phase the whole project around age and mostly time, you weren't too sure what to exactly present, but choosing to do multimedia just felt right for this.

You knew making a video could be risky, especially with the music that would have to play in the background, the animation, and everything else that was just time-consuming, but you had already prepared well for it by creating a plan and taking a few photos you wanted to include.

And so, going over all the stuff you had prepared earlier last week, your teacher also helped you around, making sure you understood well what was wanted.

It didn't feel like a long time passed before it was lunch break. You were actually quite excited for it, going from being huddled up before the notebook the school would provide you with to finally stretching out again.

Unzipping your backpack, you pulled out the steel dosirak case. It was cold by now, but you hoped that the alpha would have only packed food that was usually eaten cold. You hated when your meals, which were usually served warm, would go icy. It just tasted different.

There was rice in one of the side compartments, four kimbap neatly placed in a line, cut-up lotus roots in one of the smaller placements, sesame seeds sprinkled on top, and a bit of bulgogi was also in the lunch box.

It looked like a meal you would buy at a restaurant, not a lunch you would take from home. Feeling excited, you went on to take a bite with the wooden chopsticks Jin gave you, the case safely tucked in the box with a few napkins placed around it.

It tasted good, and so you kept coming back for seconds, having, for once in your life, truly finished the whole box without having to force yourself even a little. Your tastebuds were dancing in delight, and you had your stomach filled up once again.

With only a bit of the beef, lotus, and rice left for your afternoon snack, you were more than satisfied.

Taking your phone out, you reminded yourself to thank the pack's oldest for the nice meal he must have whipped up for you the last evening and morning. Opening WhatsApp, you were already added to a group with a few text notifications.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

416 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 6 months ago

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Extra warning! The end of this chapter touches on mental health struggles and body image issues. It’s a little dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and do not interact.

Chapter 18 - Where Is She | ‘Ours’

You boarded the plane for your flight back to England with Trent, Teddy, and Dianne. It was nice you were able to spend time after the game and get to see your friends but you were also pretty tired. Teddy had just woken up from her afternoon nap when the plane took off. She was so much more communicative now you couldn’t believe it but it was also really fun and exciting to watch her learn so you’d pepper her with silly questions all day and she loved talking. Most of the time it was babbles interspersed with a few words but you could understand what she was getting at.

“Where’s nana sitting, Ted?” You asked her as she stood looking around. Dianne was in a seat facing away from Teddy so it wasn’t inherently obvious. She was able to indicate that she knew exactly what you were talking about. She walked a little bit towards her and then pointed excitedly when she found Dianne. You laughed when she came running back towards you and Trent.

“Mama! Mama!” She was adamant about getting your attention. She tugged on your shirt excitedly despite your focus already being on her. She looked up at you with her big brown eyes, the same ones as Trents. It felt like yesterday she was born and you could remember seeing her for the first time, seeing her striking resemblance to him for the first time. The fact that that same tiny little girl could stand and walk on her own now was insane.

“Yes, baby?” You gently asked her, running your hand over her head careful not to ruin her two pigtails Dianne did this morning. Teddy told you Nana was down at the other end of the plane incredibly enthusiastically.

“Teddy girl, did you find me? You’re so smart. How did you find me?” Dianne cooed, leaning over for Teddy to see her. Teddy giggled proud of herself.

“Dada! Nana!” Teddy pointed at Dianne for Trent to look as well. It was important that Trent saw her amazing discovery.

“Wow! Good girl, Ted.” Trent laughed. “Do you wanna go sit with Nana?” Trent asked her and her face lit up running back down towards Dianne who scooped her up into her lap.

“Come here, you.” Dianne cooed, situating Teddy on her lap. She looked at you and Trent who were exhausted. “So last night was fun?” She asked not having heard about it all day. You just kind of forgot to discuss any further once you were back with Teddy.

“Too fun.” You giggled rolling your head to the side. She smiled and turned back around. Trent pinched your side at the cheek. You weren’t really referring to your dinner or the club, you were talking about your night once you got back to the hotel, that was too fun and you had the markings to prove it. “I love you.” You whispered to Trent before you pressed a soft kiss onto his shoulder.

“Come sit with me.” He smiled and pulled you into his lap. You giggled and cozied up to him giving him another kiss this time to his lips. “I love you so much more.” You rolled your eyes. He wasn’t saying this because he loved you so much more. He did love you but this was to ‘win’ the who loves the other more debate. You tapped at his chest. He smiled again and it made you pout it was so cute. He kissed your hair. You rested our head on his shoulder and Trent reached over you to fix the strap of your top that had fallen. You kissed his arm that was outstretched in front of you while he was fixing it. It was in these silences that you felt you could tell you loved each other more than you ever could put into words. He leaned back into the seat and sighed keeping one arm wrapped around your waist, the other just resting on his thigh. You traced the lines on his rested hand’s palm with your finger and smiled. You wish you could memorize every inch of him down to the pattern of these lines. You laid your palm over his, comparing your hand sizes. Yours being significantly much smaller. You giggled when he collapsed his fingers around yours suddenly. “What are you doing, silly girl?” he whispered.

“I like your hands.” You whispered back to him inspecting his hand that was now laced with yours. The back of your hand was facing upwards so you could see your engagement ring tucked between his fingers. It made you swoon a little when you saw it paired with his hand. You got distracted from your assessment of his hands though when a tiredness continued to wash over you and only grow stronger. You cuddled into him sleepily. You listened to his slow breathing and the hum of the plane lulling you into sleep. Trent followed you or maybe he had gone before you, you weren't sure.

“Your daddy loves your mummy so much. Did you know that?” Dianne cooed seeing you and Trent embraced and asleep. She remembered meeting you and being awestruck by your natural beauty. You weren’t like the other girls that had been around. There was a type of woman that circulated in the football community and she was sure they were all lovely people but there was something about your normalcy that put her at ease. Seeing Trent so affectionate was shocking. He never had the time or never cared to devote his attention to someone the way he did for you. She wondered what it was. What was the draw? Obviously over the years she got to know you and she watched her son fall madly in love with you. What made Dianne smile though was when Trent would share all the reasons he loved you. They were all incredibly insignificant human actions and yet he thought the things you did were ethereal. The way your lips curled with a smile while you took a drink from a glass listening to someone tell a story, the way your nose scrunched when it was too sunny, the way your hand fit perfectly in his, the way you would always fall asleep on him before a film would end. It was the color of your nails, the sound of your voice, the way you smelt. These are things everyone did or had but it was all so very different because it was you. You were what made him fall in love. She looked on as you two fit perfectly together in his seat. It was strange to look at Trent and see her little boy and yet there she was holding his little girl just the same age that she’d always imagined him to be.

“Leaving so soon?” He cheekily asked with a dumb sleepy smile. You shook your head ‘no’ and scooted a little further from him. You woke up with still a bit of time left on the flight. You kissed Trent’s forehead and moved back to your own seat. Your movements initially waking him. You checked your phone for emails and texts, mundane things. When your phone pinged though it was like an alarm bell for Teddy. She noticed that you were finally awake. She was squirming in Dianne’s arms dying to get back to you and Trent.

“Someone has been patiently waiting for mummy and daddy to wake up.” Dianne sang, letting Teddy run down the aisle of the plane. That was a lie. She wasn’t patient at all. She napped for a bit but all she wanted to do was spend time with you two. She loved Dianne but having you in such close proximity but not having your attention drove her nuts.

“Oh thank you for waiting, sweet girl. Want to come sit with me?” You cooed as she eagerly climbed up onto your lap with little grunts of determination. You could’ve helped her but you figured she could do it on her own. She didn’t answer your question verbally but the little girl with her face smushed in your boobs was an answer in itself. You landed, Teddy cried, but you made it home eventually.

“You know that man from Condé Nast emailed me.” You spoke to Trent aloud as you skirted around the kitchen island beginning to make dinner. Teddy was sitting with bright eyes excited watching you pull out all the food letting her try bits of it all for your meal. Trent sat at the island next to her on his phone checking the update from the England team about their upcoming travel details.

“Oh yeah? What’d he say?” Trent asked you sincerely but kept his gaze on his phone. He was reading an email about their departure in a few days time. He needed to get to St. George’s and then they were flying to Norway for a friendly.

“He just asked how I was, you and Teddy as well but really he was asking if I gave any thought to the piece he wants to write. He told me he wants it to be like a full spread. He’s already gotten the green light to run it. He obviously just needs me but… why me? Don't you think he can just use someone else?” You rambled for way too long and Trent was doing his best to follow your train of thought.

“No one is you though. Baby, you’re one of one. Of course he’s interested in you… for an article.” Trent clarified and you gave him a sly smile. “Baby, I think it’d be nice for you. Maybe you should see it out.” Trent finally picked his head up and looked at you encouragingly.

“Maybe…” You turned back to the stove and were quiet for a moment. “Maybe I’ll tell him after the wedding I’ll meet with him and we can go from there.” You told Trent but you also told yourself. You replied to his email later in the night and awaited his reply. He got back to you the next day and was ecstatic in his response. He even sent along his outline of what he wanted to discuss when you met eventually. It was a weird feeling, of feeling confident yet incredibly insecure. You spent days rereading his outline wondering what kind of questions he’d ask under each of the categories and how you would answer them. Trent left to head down south to St. Georges and like you had told Denise in Madrid, you had planned to fly to New York, taking Teddy with you. Teddy didn’t love to travel, mostly the taking off and landing really bothered her. If her ears popped it was a nightmare but she was getting a lot better at it given the frequency at which you were doing it.

“Send her flowers or something that she likes.” You cooed looking into your phone. You were laying in your new Manhattan apartment courtesy of Trent. You had your mum handle a lot of the furnishings like the moldings and painting but now that you were there you finally could decorate it just how you and Trent wanted it to be so that was on your docket as well as wedding appointments for the week. Jude and Trent were together Facetiming you laid on the couch with Teddy cuddled up on your chest.

“I always send her flowers.” Jude responded in a very defeated tone. You watched Trent’s face pull into an adorable smirk trying his very best not to poke fun at Jude for keeping the fact that he had even been sending flowers to Lauren at all in the first place a secret.

“Okay… well sorry? I didn’t know that because you’ve told us nothing!” you teasingly raised your voice at him fulfilling Trent’s desire to joke about this. Teddy rustled on your chest not thrilled with the volume of your voice.

“No mama, shhhh.” Her face crumpled into a very unimpressed but simultaneously very cute pout. Her little hand pulled at the collar of your t-shirt. Trent laughed at Teddy reprimanding you. You kissed her forehead and apologized.

“Laurennnnn” You sang bouncing Teddy on your hip as you shut the front door of her apartment after accepting flowers from the delivery man a few days later.

“What?” She asked you from the kitchen. She thought you just wanted her to listen to you, not come and find you. You settled and walked to the living room where you could see into her open kitchen.

“Are you dating a certain Mr. Jude Bellingham?” You giggled in a mocking tone she didn’t appreciate. She rolled her eyes at your comment before she pulled her head out from the refrigerator after getting herself a seltzer water.

“What?” She said preemptive to looking at you. Her face fell into a pout quickly seeing you holding a gorgeous floral arrangement. “Oh… Those are pretty. Are they from…” She paused like she didn’t want to say his name. She was so hesitant. So un-Lauren.

“Your boyfrrienddd!?!??!” You cooed cheekily, bouncing Teddy more who was loving your excitement. She clapped. You imagine she probably thought you guys were celebrating something and to a degree you should’ve been.

“Y/N...” Lauren dragged out your name silently asking you to not make a big deal. You threw your head to the side with a scoff. You were annoyed. How much more did she want from him? Lauren told you about their conversation in the club and about the evening they had following it but she said they kind of just proceeded as normal after that. Jude dropped her off at the airport's departures a couple of days after the match and kissed her goodbye. That was that. She didn’t know what they were referring to each other as now. She didn’t know if dating meant they could see other people and she didn't want to ask. Lauren couldn’t suppress her smile though as she took the flowers out of your hand and brought them to her kitchen table. She plucked the card tucked in them and bent over leaning her forearms on to the surface to read it. She shut her eyes in a blissful way and ran her one hand over her face bashfully. Naturally you were curious what elicited such a reaction. You walked over and snatched the card from her in the same way she did to you years ago in your own apartment when Trent had sent you something.

‘I want to take my girlfriend on holiday this summer. Let me know what she says xx JB’

“So what are you going to tell JB, huh?” You hummed inquisitively to her emphasizing the nickname you'd never heard before. Okay, it was very cute. Her response was merited and you understood why she was so smitten reading it. You handed her back the card.

“It’s just what I put his contact as in my phone as when we first met on the holiday in Greece. I didn’t want to be weirded out texting that name or someone steal my phone and get his information. I don't know, it was stupid really but it became a joke between us and stuck.” Lauren kept trying to explain something she didn’t need to but you figured that was enough of the teasing. You were surprised that she had been so considerate or aware about keeping Jude ‘safe’ if someone were to find her phone. The fact that she was even thinking about that so early on made you think that maybe she had much more than a lustful crush to begin with.

“Laur, it’s really sweet. I like it. You should call him, maybe. I’m sure they’re doing nothing right now.” You cooed with a soft smile. This was really good for her. You didn’t want to deter her from pursuing it. You were texting Trent about something not pertaining to this but you knew the boys were sitting around doing nothing at the England camp.

“So you know they’re doing nothing clearly…” Lauren looked at you with a smug knowing look calling you out.

“I do!” You giggled, finding it a little funny. “I didn’t do anything else though! Note, flowers, etc.. all JB.” You smiled and as much as she didn’t want to, Lauren smiled back. “And Laur, he’s so prettyyyyy.” You cooed with a pout.

“He is really pretty.” Her smile only growing. She laughed and shook her head walking away from you and Teddy. “Stay down here for a second.” She instructed you before she ran upstairs to her lofted bedroom. You could obviously only hear her end of the conversation but that was enough to keep you intrigued. You sat on the bottom of the steps with Teddy ready to listen intently.

“Hi… No, thank you… yeah, it was really sweet… your girlfriend said you need to do less but she’d want to go.” Lauren giggled. You’d seen her with Jude before, of course, plenty of times but it was always in really high energy places. At matches, clubs, parties, or around a ton of other people, especially other guys, it wasn’t a true reflection of them. Hearing Lauren’s voice go so soft and calm almost made you want to cry. You couldn’t believe they had kept this so low key. There was so much emotion behind her words. You were eager to ask Trent if he knew how much was going on. He would’ve told you if he did but you couldn’t believe how comfortable she was on the phone. “I wish I could kiss you…” Your ears perked up again. She sounded so… loving. “Yeah, can’t wait to see you in two weeks… No, tell your mum I’ll send her the one I like, she’ll like it better…. Okay, bye JB.” She hung up and you heard her lay back flat onto her mattress. Jude had promised he’d ask Lauren to be his girlfriend in person officially but this was pretty cute and Lauren was infatuated. You ran up the stairs giddy with a silly smile eliciting lots of giggles from Teddy.

“What’s so funny cutie girl, huh?” Lauren cooed with a smile that was on her face you’d rarely see. She was beaming and it wasn’t caused by the little girl she grabbed out of your arms. You looked at her smug. “We’re not doing the approach you did. I want nothing, no one can know I exist in his world.” Lauren clarified to you without you even asking a question.

“Yeah, okay. Good luck with that.” You laughed, shaking your head. Lauren laughed as well she knew it was farfetched especially considering the scale of Jude’s fame but she’d do her best. She collapsed into your lap bringing Teddy with her. She kissed Teddy’s cheek again and again. Teddy calling out ‘mama’ on repeat muddied in giggles for you to save her from Lauren’s kisses.

“Oh my god! We can go to the world cupppppop together!!” You squealed excitedly about your revelation. As much as you loved going to the England games with Trent’s family, going with Lauren sounded like a lot of fun especially on quite literally the world's biggest stage. The next world cup was next year and now that Lauren was with Jude that would make it that much better.

“Isn’t that like treachery against the US?” Lauren joked with a coy smile.

“Oh shut up! Also, I’m a dual citizen, so are you, you're not English but nevertheless a dual citizen.” You attempted to rationalize supporting England in an international tournament with a very poor argument.

“That doesn’t make me want to support England?” Lauren rebutted pretty fairly. She had no ties to England. Her parents were French so if anything she was going to support their native country but that wasn't really the point of your comments to begin with.

“You don’t want to support…” you paused. “Your boyfriennddd?” You cheekily sang squeezing her side. You both let out an embarrassingly childish giggle as if this was the first time either of you were talking to a boy. Teddy was thrilled with the laughter. She laid on her tummy kicking her legs joining the giggles.

“What the fuck!' Lauren whined then frantically covering Teddy's ears to prevent her from hearing Lauren's curse words. "You did this to me! This is so embarrassing. I’m down so bad.” Lauren laughed a little more covering her face with her hands embarrassed she had become so smitten by Jude. “You introduced us, you bitch! When he breaks my heart it'll be your fault.” You rolled your eyes. Jude was not going to hurt her, even if things were to fizzle out he was way too nice of a person to let it be messy. Lauren got a text from him and her phone screen glowed facing upward on her bed..

“Wait… Lauren he’s your fucking background!?!? You loser! Obviously this man’s your boyfriend. Who puts anyone but their significant other as their background like this! Oh my days!” You screamed at her. It was ridiculous she tried to play this off as long as she had and even more ridiculous she had gotten away with it. Your long distance relationship with her aiding and abetting her secrecy but it was out now and they were together now.

You returned back home after your trip to the US and Trent did the same from international duty. You were so relieved to be back together. It often felt like your world stopped turning when you were apart. You talked constantly when you could but just being so physically distant was horrible. He came home early in the evening and you put Teddy down for sleep together. She was a little fussy wanting to stay up to be with him but eventually she couldn’t fight her own tiredness and she was out like a light. Trent stood behind you at the doorway of her room with his hands wrapped low around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder pressing his lips against your neck softly and slowly repeatedly.

“You know, the past week all it’s been is ‘daddy, daddy, daddy.’ She missed you so much, T.” You cooed, turning around to face him. You cupped his cheek and looked deep into his eyes.

“Yeah? And what about mummy? Mummy miss me?” He asked cheekily, ghosting his lips over yours. His hands dropping lower off the small of your back down to your ass.

“Yeah, missed daddy so much.” You draped your arms over his shoulders and hummed as he pulled you gently out of your daughter's doorway. Trent’s lips moved back to your neck. Slowly he dragged his tongue over your skin. The smell of him was completely intoxicating. “T…” You attempted to stifle a moan when he began to nibble on the most sensitive part of your neck. He picked you up and brought you into your bedroom. He shut the door and he laid you onto the mattress. You giggled as you bounced slightly from the force of the drop. He crawled over you beginning to kiss you again before he pulled away.

“Who did you miss? Tell me.” He commanded as his big hands dragged the material of your shirt up revealing your bra. He pulled the cups of your bra down letting your tits fall out. Your nipples quickly hardening as he began to play with them.

“Daddy.” You giggled initially jokingly but your voice transitioned fast into a moaned when he began to nibble on your earlobe and massage your tits slowly.

“Yeah? You want daddy to take care of you?” He whispered with a conniving grin, grinding on top of you. You couldn’t believe this man had you like this. Begging for daddy? Who were you? Well, you were his. You were his and you loved every second of this.

“I think you do, baby.” He cooed, moving his kisses from your ear to your neck, across your jaw, over to your lips. “I think you like it when I come home and have you like this. You pretend you don’t like saying it but I think it gets you off, hmm?” Do you get turned on calling me daddy?” He mocked you with an incredibly and unfairly handsome face. You two were kidding around with the whole 'daddy' thing but also if you were being honest... it kind of did. You shook your head definitely and unconvincingly, unable to keep a sly smile at bay. He reached between your two bodies beginning to play with your clit. Your arousal was dripping and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your hips up into his hand desperately. He pulled back and sat on his heels in front of you. He pulled his shirt off over his head and you felt yourself somehow manage to get even more wet than before. You reached forward greedily towards him grabbing at his sweatpants. “Nah, nah, nah, baby. I’m in charge here, you know that.” He smiled at you. He slinked off his sweats before he pinned both of your hands above your head with his one hand. Your heart faltered, excited he was in this kind of mood. You loved when he took control. Trent slapped his cock against your entrance a few times. His cock covered with your slick. He dragged his length through your folds before he slowly pushed inside of you. You gripped his hand above you holding yours.

“Fuck, T…” You whined, not exactly ready to be stretched so suddenly by him. It was the perfect type of pleasurable pain though. He began to thrust into you slow giving you some time to adjust but not nearly enough. “Oh my god, you feel so good.” You squirmed under him, wiggling your hands to try to break out of his hold. You needed to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure you were going to be able to be quiet and you didn’t want to wake Teddy.

“I fucking needed you, baby.” He grunted. “Needed you so bad all day.” Every push and pull of his cock made you reel in pleasure. He reminded you with every thrust you were his. Trent wanted to fuck you all night but with the way your pussy was tightening around him he knew he wouldn’t last all that long. He bent over and latched onto one of your nipples. He licked and sucked them, finally dropping the grip of his hands from above your head. You moaned when he let that hand drop between you again and his fingers returned to your clit. “Can you cum f’me, baby? Cum f’me, beautiful.” He asked you and almost like magic, you felt your high crash over you like a tidal wave. Every inch of you lit up. You snatched your hand down in an attempt to cover your mouth and muffle your whines. Trent continued to thrust into you relentlessly extending the pleasure.

“Oh T…” you whimpered coming down. The way you said his name made the impossible possible. His cock even harder than before. The aftershocks of your orgasm lingering building a damn of tears on your lash line. “I love you so much. Please cum inside me, baby.” You begged him and his eyes lit up, his perfect pout slightly agape, his skin shiny with a sheen of sweat. He was absolutely drool worthy fucking you into oblivion. You gripped his hair desperately wanting more of the way his length perfectly hit deep inside you again and again.

“You have no idea how much I love you, baby. Gonna cum, yeah? Cum with me.” He muffled against your skin leaving kisses along your jawline. “Cum f’me one more time.” He asked you before he pressed his forehead against yours and you felt him release inside you. He carried on fucking you, continuing through the length of his high. The sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your soaked pussy leaking of his cum was all incredibly lewd. Your own orgasm quickly following feeling him throb inside of you. It was blinding white and completely and utterly addictive.

“Mmmm, my baby.” You giggled out of breath feeling his weight crush you as he laid on top of you before he pulled out and collapsed over to the side of you. You watched his chest rise and fall before crawling back over to him. Needing to be closer once again fully satisfied. You giggled kissing his neck. “That was good, daddy.” You teased him.

“Alright, enough…” he laughed at you pulling you into him a little more and dragging the now crumpled sheets back over the two of you. He cheekily whispered to you why you couldn’t call him that for a little while.

“All mine, forever.” You cooed pressing a final kiss to his lips before you fell asleep completely worn out on his chest.

It was late April and very sweetly Winnie had organized a Bridal shower for you in Liverpool. She, Lauren and your mum all flew over. A few of your aunts as well. Dianne, of course and some of her friends. A couple of other wags from the Liverpool and England teams were invited. It was small but still sizable. Maybe it was a family thing but Winnie had a knack for throwing parties. I guess maybe all three of you did; your mum, Winnie, and yourself. It was gorgeous. It was all very boho but girlie. A brunch in your back garden. Winnie captured the whole scene on her film camera and you were already so excited to see those photos. Photography was Winnie’s life. She worked as a model when she was around 17 till a couple years ago when she met someone who introduced her to it as a possible career and then she studied it at university. She was really talented but frankly, you think she liked the power it gave her holding onto all these memories to develop and dole out. At the end of the lovely brunch Winnie had gotten cupcakes that were perfectly delicious as they were beautiful. Of course, you had to let Teddy have a few bites of yours at the party. She was insistent.

“Mama, yum!” She looked at your greedily eating it. You weren’t sure though if she ate it or just mushed it around but either way it made her happy. When you got home though she was begging for more. You gave her a tiny bit more, you were a sucker and she had you wrapped around her tiny little finger but regardless she devoured it. Icing everywhere, naturally. You were itching for her to be finished so you could clean up the mess she was making in your kitchen.

“Can you come here, baby, please?” You cooed, turning around to look at Teddy. She was able to climb on and off chairs without help now so you thought it was important to ask her to do these things on her own. She had a very happy smile on her face but it was paired with very very sticky hands from all the icing. She ran towards you, hands out eager for a hug. “Wait, wait, wait, Ted!” You giggled. “Come here, let me wash your hands first then I’ll give you the biggest cuddle, yeah?”

“Mama, wash pleabs!” she stretched her arms up to you. You picked her up and held her out to watch her hands over the sink. You were wearing a white linen corseted maxi dress with flower detailing. It was gorgeous in your opinion but definitely something you didn’t exactly want Teddy’s very cute, yet very grubby hands on. You hadn’t had a chance to change from the shower yet.

“Wow, am I lucky or what?” Trent cooed coming home from training into the kitchen to see you holding Teddy. The way you were bent over the sink holding her was a sight. The corseted top of the dress had your tits practically spilling out. Since having Teddy your boobs were bigger to say the least and Trent wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Hiii baby.” You sang seeing him coming in. He came over and took Teddy from you now enjoying the fruits of your labor with her newly clean hands. Her palms grabbing at his face eagerly pushing her lips out awaiting her kiss from her daddy.

“Gimme a big kiss, Ted. Mwah! Did you know you have the most beautiful mummy ever?” You swatted at Trent dismissing his silly comment.

“My mama!” Teddy cooed, reaching back out to you in his arms. The more she talked the more she liked to tell you how you and Trent were hers. Her mummy and daddy and every single time without fail it made you just want to squish her in the tightest possible hug loving that she was all yours. It got late so you laid Teddy down for sleep. Marcel and George came over to watch a series, Trent and they had started the other week in the cinema. You came in later on. Frankly, you had no interest in the show they were watching but you wanted a cuddle with Trent. You snuck into the dark room half way into an episode and slinked onto the couch Trent was on cozying up to him. He didn’t say anything. He just kissed your hair and situated the blanket he was under over both of you. After about one full episode you were falling asleep on him.

“Why don’t you go upstairs to bed, baby? I’ll be up in a little.” Trent quietly whispered to you, running his hand over your head. You shook your head ‘no’ not very keen on leaving your very comfortable position right now. “Okay, so you just want me to carry you up when I go?” Trent let out a silent breathy laugh. You cuddled further into him adamant that you were not going to move and your silence was his answer. Yes, he was going to have to do just that. As you fell further into sleep you pawed at his chest letting out a sleepy whine of his name. He smiled and peeked around to see if Marcel or George had noticed or heard your whimper. Neither had. The show was quite loud and Trent was amazed you were even able to sleep in the noise. “I’m right here, baby.” He coddled you pulling you tighter to him pressing a kiss to your forehead. Two episodes in and a few bickering conversations between the boys later, you were fast asleep.

“Daddy...” You let out a quiet mumble in your sleep. If there wasn’t a lull in the dialogue of the show they were watching Marcel and George probably wouldn’t have heard you. Trent smiled looking down at you, assuming this was the same as earlier. You were talking in your sleep thinking about the father of your daughter not in an overtly sexy way but that didn’t matter to the other boys. It was still being said and they still heard it. Trent thought it was endearing, they did not.

“Oh my days, bro… No… we’re not doing this.” George snapped his head to look back towards you two. Marcel of course quickly followed. Hearing your brother or friend being called daddy when their child wasn’t around definitely was a little jarring and probably merited the response Trent received.

“I swear to god I’m not touching her!” Trent quipped quickly coming to defend himself. George would never let go of the blanket cinema incident and hearing you whine ‘daddy’ behind him in the dark room was not something he wanted. Trent held his hands up in innocence. The boys didn’t care, they were not in the mood to put up with you and Trent’s nonsense while they were trying to watch a show. They eventually just mocked Trent for a good long while until they had to rewind the show after missing some key plot point but they moved on, they watched another episode, George headed home, and Marcel opted to sleep over. Trent carried you upstairs when he finally decided to get to bed. He held you in his arms but he felt a weird sense of sadness wash over him when he picked you up. You looked frail. He knew you were taking a lot better care of yourself since you had the fight after Teddy had been born but it wasn’t lost on him how thin you had gotten. He could always pick you up easily, that wasn’t really it. It was the way you were wearing yourself down. The stress of the wedding and Teddy maybe was just getting too much. His eyes narrowed, laying your sleeping frame down in your bed. He was worried but you said you were fine, you had been acting fine, you’d been eating fine. He told himself you were fine but he promised himself he was going to keep an extra close eye on you, noticing it so clearly now.

Winnie came back to England to stay with you a month or so later for the week ahead of the FA Cup final. It was almost the end of another season. This one seemed to fly by. Each game nestled between the wedding planning and your growing baby's milestones. Each match week buzzed by without a thought. Liverpool was set to finish 3rd in the League which was fine, not ideal, but they qualified for Champions League next season. Back in early March they had won the Carabao Cup but they really wanted a 2nd trophy so the FA Cup had become more important than you initially had thought. The final was down at Wembley in London and Jadon had planned to meet you there. It was a little bit of a double edged sword for him having his season basically over now knocked out of all his club’s other tournaments only with league play left but he figured he’d come home to London and see Winnie and simultaneously catch the game with you all.

“Mama, up!” Teddy yelled for you standing in your kitchen with Winnie. She was so vocal now even if she was being a bit demanding it was still pretty cute to see her becoming her own person, developing her personality.

“Okay! Okay! Needy girl. Goodness.” You laughed, picking her up and placing her on your hip.

“What’s that?” She asked you curiously. Pointing repeatedly at a box of biscuits you had recently bought from the store till you answered her. She definitely could comprehend more words than she could say and she needed to know about everything. To say she was curious was an understatement. She would just point repeatedly at something until you named it for her. She’d file all the information you’d tell her away for later. ‘Nngh.” Teddy grunted trying to reach for a biscuit on the counter. “Biscuit, mama!” she begged looking at you like you were somehow wronging her for not already giving one to her.

“Yeah? You want a biscuit, huh? Hungry girl.” You cooed. You gave her a small piece placing her back down and told her to sit while she ate it. You had to get on your way down to Wembley soon and needed to drop Teddy off at Dianne’s which was always going to be a little bit of an ordeal. She was well behaved and listened well but being away from both mummy and daddy was not exactly her favorite thing, no matter how much she loved her nana.

“Can we show Win where your shoes are?” You asked her excitedly after she finished eating. Teddy knew right where her shoes were in the mudroom. She scampered off echoing your excitement giggling with a squeal. She went to go and grab them when you asked her to, picking up her tiny little samba trainers and running back to Winnie eager to show her just how smart she was. Winnie naturally gassing Teddy up about how amazing she was for doing so, helping her put her shoes on. Trent had gone earlier the day to London with the team to prepare for the competition. To Winnie’s delight, Jadon had planned a night out for them and invited you along. You agreed to go to dinner without thinking much of it. Dianne wasn’t traveling for the game so she had offered to take Teddy for the night. It was meant to be a fun time, it was meant to be a good time, it was meant to be a night out before you watched your fiance win another trophy. After a tearful goodbye to Teddy, you and Winnie got on your way. You had a great dinner with Jadon and Winnie at a chic restaurant tucked away at a table in the back. It was really nice. You got to know Jadon a bit more, taking mental notes on what you were going to report back to Trent about their relationship. You and Winnie probably drank too much. Okay, in retrospect, you drank way too much. A friend of Jadon’s texted him that they had a table at a club nearby in Shoreditch about half way through your dinner. At that point you had a bottle of wine, maybe two, you can’t remember but you didn’t have Teddy, Trent was already off to bed ahead of the match, it couldn’t hurt to have a night out with your sister and whatever Jadon was to her. Then you found yourself surrounded by people your age living completely different lives. The club was dark. It was body to body yet you felt completely alone. You were planning to walk down the aisle and teaching your daughter how to talk and here everyone around you was talking about who was fucking who in the bathroom.

“Yo, this your new bird, Sanch?” One boy asked eyes narrowing on Winnie’s frame. She was in leather pants and a black tank top with no bra. Her waist impossibly small. She looked good. Winnie always looked good.

“Yeah she’s with me.” Jadon confirm content and a bit smug with the way Winnie looked and the fact that she was with him.

“That bird's leng, mate, who is that with her?” Another friend asked him, eyeing up you as Winnie whispered in your ear.

“Nah, mate. She’s spoken for. That’s Trent Alexander-Arnold’s gal.” The friends Jadon was speaking to eyes widened as they processed who you were. You were in a black bralette and cargo pants. The lights from the club illuminating the rise of your highlighted collarbones and shoulder blades. You laughed at something Winnie said but went quiet quickly after she told you she was going to talk to Jadon. She draped her arms around his shoulders, her lips quick to find his neck. You felt silly feeling so alone when she left. Your phone pinged again and again but you couldn’t clear your vision enough to read it. Trent texting you again and again.

‘Y/N, where are you? Did you make it back to the hotel?’ 'Baby, can you please answer... Just trying to make sure you're okay.'

You had said goodnight to Trent before your entrees at dinner had even arrived. He tried to sleep, he really did but he couldn’t knowing you were out and weren’t responding. It wasn’t like you. The thought of you out in London being the caliber of drunk where you were not responding to him was making him sick. And just like that, your phone died and your location disappeared off his find my friends app. The table you were at probably wasn’t a scene you should’ve been in but you couldn’t pull yourself out of it. Winnie and Jadon were tangled up somewhere else in the roped off area and would check in sporadically but you didn’t even know where you were. This wasn’t smart, you were a mum. It kept ringing in your head again and again. ‘You are a mum.'

“Erm… Yeah, Hi… can you get away from her? Thank youuu.” Winnie cooed with a slight drag of her words physically moving a man away from you. You were slumped on a velvety couch surveying over the crowds of people in the club. The masses blurring together. You hadn’t even noticed the fourth man of the night trying to talk to you. “Y/N, you need to get back to the hotel…” Winnie cooed softly in your ear grabbing at your arm,

“Win, I’m fine.” You slurred. Jadon came up behind Winnie and looked at you. He had deterred the first three men of the night. Men would come up with propositions and drinks in hand sitting next to you. Far too close for anyone’s liking including your own. You’d told the first one you were taken, the second you told you had a baby, by the third you couldn’t see straight, you weren’t sure what was said.

“Y/N, babe, maybe let’s get some water or something and get you back home, yeah?” Jadon leaned over and brushed some of your hair off your shoulder. You looked at both of them slightly confused why they were so concerned. You stood up on wobbly legs. Winnie kept hold of your arm to try to steady you.

“Where are you going? Let me go with you.” Winnie cooed trying to talk to you but you were the type of drunk that you couldn’t hear and you could barely see. Light's were on... nobody was home. You said nothing and just went off to the bathroom. Winnie looked at Jadon concerned but he tried to reassure her everything was okay. You all were drunk, it was hard for anyone to have a clear head at this point. This was a mess. The sound of the club's music and bass was shaking your entire body. It didn’t take much for you to get drunk but you were completely gone. You thought you knew where you were going, the route to the bathroom but suddenly you found yourself outside practically gasping for air. You started crying unable to catch your breath. You looked down at your body and felt sick. You were completely alone yet surrounded by the millions of people in the city of London. You got sick in front of yourself narrowly avoiding your heels. Winnie called and called your phone but it was dead, she couldn't reach you. It was then she began to panic. Why didn’t she go with you? You slid your back down the exposed brick wall outside. You could feel the cement filling between each brick drag on your skin peeling your skin. You were balling your eyes out. You had no gauge of where you were. You went from your sister holding your arm to standing outside shivering confused, hating yourself not only for every decision you made tonight, but every poor one you made in your entire life. You leaned your head back onto the wall and closed your eyes. Tears still managing to seep out. It wasn’t until a black cab stopped in front of you out on the street that you snapped back to reality, barely. You had no idea how long you were outside alone for. An older man rolled down his car window. He looked like the typical cabbie.

“Hun, you alright? Can I bring you somewhere?” He cooed softly in the loud city night. You picked your head up and locked eyes with him. This was a 50/50. This could be a guardian angel or an incredibly dangerous situation. You were a mum! Yet here you were climbing into the back of a cab. You didn’t give him much. You muffled out ‘Four Seasons’ to him thankfully remembering that was where you were staying in between fits of tears. He peppered you with questions trying to get more information about which one, were you okay, all sorts of things. None of which you were able to answer. He helped you out of the cab arriving at what the man had hoped to be the correct location. You nodded your head. He wrapped his arm around you to support you as you steadied yourself in your heels. In any other state you would probably have been skeeved out but at the moment you just wanted to disappear.

“Where is she? I haven’t heard from her, Win. Where are you?” Trent frantically asked Winnie pacing in his hotel room as the night rolled into the morning.

“She went back to her hotel. I’m still out with Jay. I’ll text her but I bet she’s already asleep, T. Which by the way you should be too! Don’t worry, okay?” Winnie cooed with tears beginning to fill her lash line. She feigned a confidence and comfort she couldn’t have felt further from. She felt sick. Why did she just lie to Trent? She knew she shouldn’t have but she didn’t know what else to do. She was past the point of panic. She collapsed into Jadon crying. “Why did I let her go? You don’t understand. She shouldn’t be alone.” Winnie cried as Jadon dragged her out of the club taken aback by the shift in their night.

“Win, she’s alright. She went home. We’ll go to her hotel right now. Promise, she’s a big girl. She’s fine. Probably just felt sick and booked it.” Jadon tried to calm her down but it really wasn’t going to help.

“Jay… you don’t get it. She’s… She’s not okay, alright?” Winnie began to cry more. Jadon’s eyes narrowed confused what was happening here. He wouldn’t have let the night get as rowdy as it had if someone told him something was off. If Winnie or Trent or you even had given him any indication prior to this very moment that you maybe weren’t the healthiest at the moment. “She just has a hard time. She doesn’t exactly have the best health and things can get really bad if she drinks too much. God! I’m so fucking stupid. I know better than this. I need to find her.” Winnie balled her fists and shut her eyes tight.

“What you saying? Health? In what way?” Jadon asked Winnie whilst ordering them an uber. Winnie ran her hands over her face flustered. As drunk as she was, as much as she liked and trusted Jadon, unloading her family's past and trauma on him felt like a lot to do in the current moment. She didn’t know where to even begin to be fair.

Hours went by and Trent couldn’t sleep. Where were you? Were you with someone else? You weren’t, you had some strange cabbie drop you back at the hotel and that was it but he didn't know that. Honestly, you barely even knew that was what was happening. Thank god, frankly. In some fashion or another you made it back up to your hotel room. It took you about 20 minutes to even get the door open with your key card but you did it. You were hysterical curled up in the bathtub of the shower. You were shaking and crying uncontrollably. In retrospect you had no idea what came over you. It was like suddenly you were 18 wishing you never existed. Like you had never met Trent, like Teddy was never born. You felt disgusting and worthless. All you wanted was to vanish off the face of the earth. You hated yourself for a million different reasons. So that was it. That was your night until it was morning and Winnie was pounding on your hotel room door frantically.

“Y/N what the actual fuck!” She screamed. “What the fuck?” She was fuming. Your neck hurt so fucking bad from passing out in the bathtub, your eyes were almost swollen shut from all the tears.

“Honestly… We have to talk about last night but we need to go right now because your fucking fiancé has a game you’re supposed to be at… Jesus Y/N what the fuck.” She yelled at your seething.

“Win…” You whimpered out, beginning to start to cry again. You slid down the wall of the entryway of your room feeling the hotel wallpaper against your back stinging the scratches left by the brick wall from last night. You couldn't hold yourself up anymore.

“Y/N… what’s going on?” She cooed sympathetically. The way she looked at you made you feel like you were little girls again. Like you were in your house in the hallway between your bedrooms.

“I can’t do it. I’m a bad mum. I’m not cut out for this. It’s too much.” You looked at her pleading for help. You felt desperate. You felt defeated. It was like the last shot of liquor opened a channel in your brain you had been trying for ages to close and suddenly it was thrashed open.

“It’s not. You’re doing great. Please.” She looked at you with so much pity. Winnie had heard you say that before. She remembered being 16 and hearing you cry in your bedroom. ‘It was all too much’ It was customary in your family to ignore things like this. To put on a brave face and never let anyone know, much less anyone know that you weren’t perfect the way your mum had wanted you to be perceived in society. It wasn’t lost on people closest to you the trajectory of your life in the last few years might've been difficult. You’d made a valiant effort before meeting Trent to avoid the public eye. It was a lot of pressure on you but when you met him, you’d do anything for him and it worried Winnie if she was being honest.

“I can’t be in this body anymore, Winnie.” You had felt this way your entire life but suddenly under the lights of a London club it flooded your mind in a way you hadn’t had a moment to consider in the chaos since becoming a mum. You weren’t good enough to be with Trent, You weren’t good enough to be Teddy’s mum. You weren’t good enough. You needed to escape. To describe this as a panic attack wouldn’t have done it justice. You were manic. Trent had the ability to pacify you. You’d never felt healthier than you did in the last few years with him and yet after you had Teddy it was like someone flicked a switch off in your brain.

“Y/N, I know. I know, it’s really hard. I know life hasn’t been easy on you. It’s been really fucking heavy but you do not have an option here. You are here with me. You cannot fucking leave me. You promised me, Y/N.” Winnie’s eyes welled up. “You promised you’d never leave me. You can’t leave your baby, you can’t leave T… God, T.. I lied last night, Y/N. We don’t lie to him. Where did you go? I was so worried.” She began to babble tears rolling down her face as she paced in front of you. “Y/N, please! I can’t go through this again. I’ve almost lost you before please god please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to Teddy.” Winnie cried, dropping in front of you. She remembered being 16 and you promised her you would be okay and then she remembered being 18 getting a call from Lauren confirming the exact opposite. She grabbed your arm, being able to wrap her hand around your bicep entirely. She felt sick.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 19 xx

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #oursfic #trent alexander arnold smut

103 notes · View notes

kyanitedragon · 6 months ago

Text

I think the misconception that Touka isn't feminine comes from the fact that the original Tokyo Ghoul is told in Kaneki's POV.

(Seriously. When you read the manga and force yourself out of that mindset, you realize a LOT of different things.)

Because its through Kaneki's POV, we have a very specific introduction to Touka.

We see her briefly in her sweet waitress act, then glaring when Rize lures Kaneki...

...and then we officially meet her when Kaneki's having a breakdown and they yell at each other,

and then again when she beats up Nishiki and forces being a ghoul on Kaneki and having another nasty argument.

Through Kaneki, time and again, we see Touka as this loud, violent, informal ghoul girl.

It takes her a while to like Kaneki, and even then she doesn't let him know that. She doesn't let him see that side of her. It's subtle and hard to see - literally kept to the background at times. Look at that little fond smile!!

But remove Kaneki entirely from the situation for a moment. Look at Anteiku when he's not around. Before they met.

It's not that Touka's informal. It's not that she never uses honorifics. It's that she doesn't think age alone should warrant them. She uses them for people who she respects.

Yoshimura? Koma? Irimi? Yomo? Ryoko? Uta? Itori? She calls them all -san respectfully.

Look at how cute and happy she is to see Ryoko at the start of the series!

It's literally just Kaneki, Nishiki, and Tsukiyama who she doesn't use honorifics for, and then Hinami because she's younger and they're friends. She even uses the cute nickname Hina.

Everyone calls her by the cutesy honorific Touka-chan, and she's never been shown to mind it. Even at the start when Kaneki was only ever pissing her off.

And her violence? Kaneki was being rude to her, so she lashed out. Ryoko died and Hinami was in danger, so she lashed out. But if you saw her on a good day, a normal day, when nothing awful was happening? When no one was pissing her off? She wouldn't be violent. She wouldn't be rude. Sassy and playful, maybe, but not rude.

Take another look at her in Chapter 116, when she's not around Kaneki or Nishiki to rile her up. Just speaking to Yoshimura.

Not too much unlike her personality in :re, huh?

Or look at any of her scenes alone with Hinami, like chapter 22 or 89.

Touka likes rabbits. She has a rabbit mask that is canonically based on an in-universe series.

She has a bunch of rabbit plushies in her home.

She has a lot of potted plants.

She likes going to the zoo and seeing the animals with Yoriko.

Remember this scene? Of Yoshimura gently advising Kaneki to not judge ghouls? I think this can also be said for not judging Touka as a person. I mean, look at her here! Gently letting a butterfly land on her as she relaxes on her balcony surrounded by her potted plants! A complete 180 from what we've seen of her before this moment.

She has a rough and tomboyish side, yes, but she's also incredibly girly and feminine. And I really love that about her, that she's both at the same time. It's not a contradiction. Ishida lets her be both, and he always has. We see a little more of her rough side in the original, and a little more of her soft side in :re, but they've both always been there and always will be.

#tokyo ghoul #touka kirishima #tg meta #tg

61 notes · View notes

itsmaferart · 1 year ago

Text

Something interesting about the last few arcs of SxF is the way in which the events have been organized. If you remember, the last arc of the manga was about developing Twilight and how his relationship with Yor and his family have been 'affecting' him, but it is more interesting that you remember a little of the previous mini-arcs:

If we make a compilation of the manga, we remember that in chapter 65 Yor meets Melinda Desmond and start a kind of 'friendship' between mothers. Which causes Twilight activating his spy instincts, having a brief episode of 'distrust' towards Yor. However, it was also the opportunity for Loid to support his wife to "open up to new friendships"...

....and also kick off Plan C: mother-friends.

While Twilight had the reflex to distrust Yor, he also thinks about the possibility of taking care of his wife in case Melinda plans something bad with her sudden friendship with Yor.

Just in manga 67, we have Twilight considering the possibility of Nightfall participating in plan C if necessary. Although with his current injuries we don't know if this will happen soon.... or Nightfall will make a miraculously quick recovery.

And much later, we have chapters dedicated to Loid and Yor's marriage, with Loid advising his patient to take a closer look at his wife and Yor failing to kiss her husband because they are so happy together.

And in the end, all these little chaotic confusions trigger the end of the most recent arc with Yor asking Loid to trust her more at home, but also, that one of her deepest desires is to be able to take care of him more, even if he really can do everything, she wants to be there for him.

The way Twilight is acknowledging that he is having a 'soft spot' for Yor, and the beginning of him starting to trust her more becomes interesting if you think that in a future when Plan C really unfolds, it opens up a lot of possibility.

What if Loid really has to take care of his wife? what if Yor really comes at some risk at the expense of his friendship with Melinda… or yes, he should start to trust Yor more and put aside his sporadic suspicions about her?

Meaning, even if Loid tries as hard as he might to deny his feelings for his wife, or simply tries to pull away more emotionally, can he really do it, even if it means affecting the Strix mission to prioritize his wife?

We literally saw Twilight going against the values of a spy by not killing Yuri, an enemy SSS agent when he really had the opportunity to eliminate him and get away with it, only because he really knows that to do so, would be to break his wife's heart.

So, without realizing it, although his job as a spy is to prioritize the mission, his emotions can overtake him at any moment..

Not to mention, in the same Melinda arc we got these two Tendero panels referring to Melinda and Loid:

Yes, in short, I think we will have some very intense and interesting arcs at some point....

#spy x family #twiyor #yor forger #loid forger #loid x yor #yor briar #anya forger #twilight #spyxfamily twilight #sxf

312 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 6 ] || [ Chapter 8 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. oral (m!receiving). sex (protected). Unspecified age gap. John is a little selfish. Also: the boys aren't very happy. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: tried my best to keep the smut as gender neutral as possible!

Chapter 7: Getting Laid!!

Last night, you and John stumbled in the door of your flat with your lips pressed together.

You swore that was something only happened in romcoms, when the main character and her rival/best-friend/ex/a stranger met at the bar, got drunk, and somehow stumbled in the door and did it right on the kitchen table or whatever.

Nope.

Nope. It happened.

He had his arms wrapped around your torso, one snugly around your hip/lower waist, the other running up over your spine, with his hand sinking into your hair.

He tossed his foot back, knocking the door closed with a donkey kick as your hands struggled to untuck his stupid maroon button-up.

Instead of fumbling with the buttons, he ripped it off himself, a few of the buttons popping off and being sent flying around the room. He shrugged it off himself before guiding you over the living room sofa.

The flat was a mess, you had tried to tell him, because you weren’t expecting to bring him (or anyone, ever) back here. But that wasn’t a concern at that moment.

John fell on top of you on the couch, his hands already ripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way (you’d come to find it behind your flatscreen tv).

His fingers kneaded and caressed your torso, squeezing at your waist as his mouth slide away from yours, over your jaw, and down to your neck, biting down onto it and sucking at the skin like it was his to mark.

Your hands found the back of his white crewneck and you pulled it off, momentarily getting him tangled in it, before you tossed it on the floor.

You barely had a moment to feast your eyes on the sight of his bare torso before he was slipping your boots off and then dragging your jeans off your legs… Like a rabid animal, primal and hungry.

You caught glimpses of his figure as he raised your leg and peppered kisses from your ankle, wet tongue jotting out to lick up your thigh toward your underwear.

He’s strong but soft, the owner of large pecks and a warm belly, both covered in thick, dark, coarse hair, that disappear in a happy trail under his jeans.

You pull his face toward yours, locking your lips into a deep kiss again, your tongues finding each other as he holds himself up over you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. “Flip over…” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing you around the waist again and hurling you up as he shifted to sit down on the couch, thighs spread to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans.

You knelt between his legs, nimble fingers undoing his belt and immediately tugging the dark fabric away from his thick thighs. He groaned in relief as he watched you struggle with his boots for a moment before you succeeded in getting it all off him.

His hand palmed at his hardened cock, eyelids droopy as your hands ran up his legs, feeling the hair in them, and sometimes catching the little bumps and scars of past injuries, some of them discreet, some of them obvious and particularly gnarly. Some of them could rival some of his Simon’s.

You tugged down his boxers briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s uncut, long and decently thick, and his hair is neatly trimmed. The head peeks out just a bit, showing how red and angry it is, the whole length throbbing, needy for your touch.

Your eyes locked onto his, spotting that it wasn’t just his cock that was needy. He looked at you like a starved man about to have a meal. Barely restrained, his jaw clenched, fists tightened shut, the muscles on his thighs taut with anticipation.

You ran your tongue over your palm before wrapping it around his cock, hearing him hiss and throw his head back as you started stroking it. Your other hand slowly, carefully, pulled back the hood of his cock before you wrapped your lips and tongue around it, gingerly sliding it further into your mouth.

You could’ve sworn John was going to have an aneurysm. “Fuckin’ hell… That’s it…” He grunted and huffed consecutively as he tensed up a bit, bucking his hips upward to meet your mouth.

“F-Fuck… That’s it…” He grumbled under his breath as he looked down at you. John had been with plenty of people, but something about the way you looked on your knees with his cock steadily slipping down your throat, got him in a way no one else did.

“Jesus… Fuckin’... Christ…” He dipped his head back as your tongue drew circles around him before you swallowed him deeper, breathing steadily through your nose so as to not choke.

“God… Been… B-Been a while since I got… Christ-” He grunted again, one hand shooting up to grip the back of your neck as he slowly rocked his cock into your mouth, beads of precum drooling over your tongue.

“C’mere.” He demanded as he pulled you back from his cock and up to your feet. He grabbed hold of his jeans from the floor, in search of his wallet and pulled out a whole sheet of condoms which was folded neatly inside, He stuck them between his lips before he stood.

Grabbing hold of you, he walked you across your flat, making use of the sitting room lights to navigate the hall into the bedroom, and dropped you onto your bed. He tossed the condoms aside and his lips crashed into yours, lips parted so that your tongues found each other.

His hands grabbed hold of your underwear and tugged it off, sending it flying across the room while he grabbed hold of the condoms and ripped off one, rough fingers search struggling to open the foil, before he finally succeeded and slipped it on.

“You good?” He checked on you, eyes locked on yours as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you and adjusting you to fit him. One leg wrapped around his waist, the other over the bend of his elbow to keep you spread open for him.

“Yeah.” You replied, immediately feeling him rub the leaking head of his cock against your entrance, allowing the lube of the condom to lubricate you just a bit.

It had been ages since you had last gotten laid, a miserable consequence of your ex-boyfriend, Ethan, and one of the main reasons you had broken up. Sex with him, much like your relationship, was dead and unfulfilling.

You felt John push his way inside, slotting himself in the warmth and snugness of your body as you squealed, your head falling back onto the bed. He grunted some incoherent praise, or what you assume was praise, his fingers digging into the extra fat on your legs to keep him steady enough.

He leaned over you, one closed fist on either side of your head, curling you onto yourself and allowing him easier access to thrust into you. Slow, torturously slowly, his cock stretching you and forcing you to accomodate him.

“Fuckin’ hell… So fuckin’ good…” He groaned, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he threw his hips down against yours. It was slow and considerate, but the way he huffed and grunted told you it was already too much for him.

But John was a man of focus. He uncurled his fists in order to grip your bed covers and squeeze them tight as his hips bounced off yours, his weeping girth always burying itself to the hilt before he pulled back again, making sure to bottom out every time.

You whimpered and moaned, eyes screwed closed and a shiver running down your spine every time the bouncy cock plunged into you, the upward tilt of it making sure to drag dangerously slowly across the one spot in your body that caused your mind to go blank, stars prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“F-Fuck… John…” You sighed as he kept the torturously slow pace, somehow driving you crazy just as much as he would while pounding you into oblivion.

“Yeah… that’s it. Moan my name, love.” He ordered as he leaned closer.

“J-John…” You cried out softly as his hips stuttered lightly, causing him to bury himself deep twice in a row.

“I know, darling. I know.” He grumbled. “You haven’t gotten properly shagged in a while, have you?” He taunted a bit. “Haven’t either, sweet thing…” He added.

His hands grabbed your jaw on either side, his thumbs hooked onto your cheeks, the remaining fingers slipping under and around your ears, nails digging lightly into your scalp.

“I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible, hm?” He added as he kissed at your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his lightly.

John was in a much better mood when he sat down for breakfast at the mess hall with Ghost, Gaz and Soap. He actually greeted them with a ‘Good morning’, his tray was piled high with food and his hair was wet from a recent shower.

The other three were looking at him with raised brows and intrigued glances, even if Ghost was trying to be discreet about them. They could read between the lines to know he had gotten lucky with you the night before, so they didn’t need to ask questions they knew the answers to.

Instead, they exchanged glances and kept eating their breakfasts… All except for Simon, who was simply drinkin a cup of breakfast tea.

“I don’t think it’s fair.” Soap ended up saying as Price was halfway through shoveling a hash brown into his mouth.

“What isn’t, Soap?” Price asked, eyes narrowed in confusion, and brows scrunched.

“We all matched ‘em on Tinder and didn’t get more than a ‘I’ll think about meetin’ up with you’.” The younger sergeant explained halfway through chewing his bite of sausage. “You meet with ‘em, get a shag… And we did all the work for it.” He added. “But when it comes to us ourselves, they don’t want us.” He complained.

“What are we gonna do?” Gaz complained. “Maybe they just like older men…” He said with a shrug. “Sucks but there’s other people out there.” He adds while drinking his orange juice.

“Are you seriously going to call dibs on the fact you saw ‘em before Price?” Ghost said in surprise.

“I’m just saying!” Soap grunted and shoveled some more scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Learn to take rejection with class, MacTavish. It’s going to happen to you more and more often as you get older.” Ghost quipped.

“Awa' an' bile yer heid!” Soap scoffed and flipped the middle finger at Ghost.

Meanwhile, the Captain was giving them all a look, while staying silent, seeming amused by their antics and a little by their jealousy. He could tell that despite the fact Gaz and Ghost had disagreed with Soap, their eyebrows were also furrowed in contemplation.

So, he simply turned off to the side and drank from his own tea with a smug smirk on his lips.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod smut #john price x reader

2K notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 8 months ago

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | seven

🐴Chapter summary: Your heart aches and you feel like you see Jimin everywhere you turn, it feels suffocating. When you suddenly get a call from your sister’s doctor saying that she never made it to her appointment, dread fills your bones. 🐴Chapter title: We Got it Wrong 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: car accident and bleeding from a head wound (I’m sorry 😢), OC is just very sad and angry, there’s a lot of angst and stupidity (thanks to the stupid misunderstanding last chapter), lol. It will get better! But not right now 🥲 And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.5k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “We Got it Wrong” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: in true ‘McLeod’s Daughters’ style, we open up for all the angst in this chapter! It was tough to write, and it was hard not to cry at the end. It’s more on the sad side, but the sun will shine again— don’t you worry! ☀️

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“Tears for all the damage Tears for all the joy Out in the dark, alone and lost I’ll try not to destroy Any more of what we had Because we got it wrong” - ‘We Got it Wrong’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Despite the persistent yearning for Jimin that echoes in your heart and mind, the refuge you find in your work with the wild horses becomes a haven for forgetting. In their presence, you master the art of maintaining a clear mind and keeping your emotions in check.

Otherwise, the delicate dance of gaining their trust remains elusive, and your efforts to gentle them might as well be in vain.

But sometimes maintaining a clear mind becomes a challenge, especially when the echoes of Jimin’s laughter reverberate from his house.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, catching Yoongi’s attention as he glances your way from his perch on the fence.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Yoongi advises, enveloping you in a comforting sideways hug to emphasize his point.

You pout, your bottom lip jutting out, eyes imploring with a softness, “Easy for you to say.”

You sigh once more, a heavy breath escaping, and a profound sense of deflation washes over you. Is this truly the path your life is destined to take?

“He’ll open up to you in due time,” he reassures, and you can’t help but erupt into a manic chuckle, a blend of frustration and disbelief escaping your lips.

“You can’t be serious. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t uttered a word to me. I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon,” you express with a mix of disbelief and resignation.

Yoongi relents to your sour mood, descending gracefully from the fence with a resigned sigh, his boots meeting the sand with a soft thud.

Putting your lunch away, you gracefully descend, ready to immerse yourself once more in the comforting distraction of work, hoping to reclaim a few precious hours without the weight of Jimin occupying your mind.

As you stroll alongside Yoongi, you make your way back to the stables, anticipation bubbling within you to witness the progress on the chestnut mare he’s been tirelessly dedicating nearly a month to.

The expansive stable beckons, its generous proportions dwarfing yours, illuminated by a pristine, white light that banishes the garish yellow hues of your own barn. The stalls, noticeably more capacious, could easily accommodate two fully grown horses, prompting an eye roll at the absurd fixation on size—typical men.

With a swift yet gentle command, Yoongi effortlessly guides the mare out of her stall, relying solely on his body language and the cadence of his voice, a testament to the unspoken connection he shares with the spirited creature. “Come.”

His ability to command the horse without the need for a halter or rope leaves you in awe, like witnessing a magician performing an extraordinary feat. As he imparts his tricks to you, you’ve ventured to try them yourself with Mikrokosmos, turning the experience into a magical and exhilarating connection between you and the spirited mare.

Yoongi guiding the brown mare alongside you, you exit the expansive stables and make your way back down to the pens, the rhythmic echo of hooves on the stable floor harmonizing with the subtle sounds of nature surrounding you.

Your gaze shifts to Yoongi, a spark of curiosity brightening your eyes, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”

A soft chuckle escapes him as you approach the pen, his hand reaching for the gate, “Holly.”

With the gate ajar, Yoongi ushers Holly into the pen with a deliberate calmness. In the center, she stands like a picture of patience, anticipating his gentle approach.

“That’s a cute name,” you remark, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you savor the sweet sound of the horse’s name.

You gracefully ascend, perching on the fence as if it were your throne, offering an unrivaled view of Yoongi’s equine magic.

“What are you gonna do with Holly today?” You inquire with genuine interest, your eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before you. Yoongi approaches Holly with a gentle touch, his hands navigating the contours of the horse like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, eliciting a contented whinny that adds a musical note to the serene atmosphere.

“I’m going to ride her today,” he declares with unwavering assurance, the timbre of his voice resonating with a mix of competence and excitement. As he applies gentle pressure on Holly’s back, the horse remains still, her tail swaying lazily to ward off an annoying insect.

With a graceful ease, Yoongi begins to mount Holly, his movement akin to an acrobat suspended in mid-air, creating a whimsical and amusing spectacle. He’s not fully astride her yet, more like a playful dance over her back, a sight so unique that it tugs at the corners of your lips, tempting a restrained laugh. It’s a display of horsemanship that you’ve never encountered before, leaving you both entertained and captivated.

Holly maintains her poise as Yoongi gracefully hovers on her back, and then, in a seamless motion, he descends to the sandy ground, his landing executed with a finesse that mirrors the effortless connection he shares with the gentle mare.

He recreates the move, elevating himself further on Holly’s back, until he dangles with his head swaying on the opposite side. Your grin widens, and though you’re tempted to burst into laughter, you restrain yourself, not wanting to disturb Holly’s tranquil demeanor.

He glides down once more, approaches her head, and caresses her with a tender touch. The whole interaction exudes a gentle harmony. Returning to her side, he pulls himself up onto her back, effortlessly swinging his leg over her body, finally settling into a comfortable seat.

You’re tempted to applaud, but you resist, not wanting to startle the horse. Yet, your admiration is palpable. This marks Yoongi’s inaugural ride on Holly, a momentous achievement that leaves you thoroughly impressed!

Yoongi stretches over her withers and strokes her neck affectionately, whispering, “Good girl.”

With a subtle click of his tongue and a gentle nudge of his legs, he guides her into a slow walk around the pen, no saddle, bridle, or halter in sight.

Color you thoroughly impressed.

You watch in silent awe as he maneuvers around the pen, his presence commanding such tranquility that you’re hesitant to disrupt the serene atmosphere by uttering even a breath.

In a breathtaking display, Holly transitions from a slow trot to a graceful canter, and Yoongi remains a steady figure atop her back. His legs maintain a gentle connection with her sides, while his hands rest calmly on her withers. A moment of pure trust unfolds as he releases his grip, extending his arms outward, allowing Holly to dance freely in circles within the pen.

Yoongi embodies the essence of liberation, and a yearning grows within you to share a similar bond of freedom with Mikrokosmos. His infectious smile meets your gaze as Holly releases a resounding snort, prompting a heartfelt chuckle to escape your lips.

Allowing Holly to race freely, Yoongi skillfully guides her by exerting a gentle pull on her withers, coaxing her spirited gallop into a graceful deceleration, transforming the wild rhythm into a serene and controlled stroll.

The distant rumble of an approaching car draws your attention away from the serene scene in the pen, and you reluctantly shift your gaze towards the source. To your dismay, Jimin’s girlfriend arrives, her car pulling up with an elegance that seems to mirror her captivating allure. Ugh. Why does she have to look that good? And why does she look so familiar?

You scrutinize the unfolding scene, watching with a mix of bitterness and resentment as she gracefully emerges from her car. Jimin, despite his limp, crosses the distance to warmly embrace her. The sight sends a surge of conflicting emotions through you – your heart tightens, your blood simmers, and your hands involuntarily clench, the tension palpable as your teeth grind together in silent frustration.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, an uncontrollable storm raging within. The intensity of your feelings is staggering – a deep-seated resentment towards Deiji, a lingering hatred for Jimin himself, yet paradoxically, a persistent love that refuses to fade. The turbulence within you paints an intricate mosaic of conflicting emotions, leaving you helplessly caught in the tumultuous crosscurrents of your heart.

As Jimin leans in to bestow a chaste kiss upon her cheek, bitterness seeps through your veins, staining your soul with an ominous shade of black. Above you, an unseen tempest brews, dark clouds of despair hanging heavily, casting a shadow over your heart.

Time, instead of healing, has only fueled the flames of pain, hurt, anger, and sadness within you. Over two weeks have passed since the last encounter with Jimin and his girlfriend, yet the agony persists, as raw and piercing as if it were yesterday. Rather than easing, the passage of time seems to stoke the embers, transforming your emotions into a relentless storm of fury and jealousy that intensifies with each passing day.

Suppressing the bitterness welling up within, you shift your focus back to Yoongi and Holly. Dwelling on Jimin, the man who once went out of his way for you, retrieving you from the city, proves too agonizing for your fragile heart.

The nagging question persists: why won’t he engage in conversation, fight for you, like he did then?

“.... Mikrokosmos?” You snap back to the present, catching the tail end of Yoongi’s question. Offering him an apologetic look, you realize you’ve been lost in your own thoughts, missing every word he carefully uttered.

You pivot to fully engage with Yoongi, deliberately tuning out the sight of the content couple in the background. “I’m sorry, I got lost in my own world. What were you saying?” you inquire with a sheepish smile, noting that Yoongi has dismounted Holly and is now giving her affectionate pats.

Yoongi draws in a breath before repeating himself, his gaze fixed on you. “I asked if you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

With a released breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you offer him a nod. Working on Mikrokosmos is exactly what you need. As you descend from the fence, Yoongi swings open the gate, leading Holly to a paddock where she joins the other horses, letting you both focus on the task at hand.

You stride purposefully into the stables, the familiar scent of hay and warm wood enveloping you as you approach Mikrokosmos, peacefully resting in her stall.

You swing open the stall door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet stable. With a warm smile and a voice that echoes genuine affection, you greet Mikrokosmos, “Hi Kosmos.”

Mikrokosmos ambles over, her velvety nose brushing against your outstretched hand, and she playfully nibbles, almost giving it a gentle lick. Your laughter fills the air as you shift to pat her neck. Stepping back, she follows, and you guide her down to the pen. With a practiced motion, you swing the gate open, and as she steps inside, you secure it, sealing the quiet world between you and the rest of the bustling stable.

Perched atop the fence, Yoongi assumes his vantage point, keenly observing your every move with Mikrokosmos, a silent maestro overseeing a harmonious dance between human and horse.

You guide Mikrokosmos around the pen, allowing her to explore the boundaries with curious sniffs and gentle trots. Positioned in the center, your anticipation grows as you await the elusive connection, the ’join up’ that has eluded you thus far. A subtle worry creeps in, questioning if this profound bond will ever materialize between you and the majestic creature.

“Relax and let her come to you,” Yoongi advises from his perch on the fence, a keen awareness of the frustration simmering within you.

Another sigh escapes you, a gentle release that carries your thoughts through your body and spills out through your fingertips. Surrendering to the moment, you embrace the idea that sometimes losing control is the only way to regain it. With a deliberate clearing of your mind and a slow, calming breath, you reassure yourself that everything will indeed be fine.

You surrender to the quietude, closing your eyes as you inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

As you focus on Mikrokosmos with closed eyes, the subtle rustle of something against the fence flares your senses. Internally cursing Yoongi for disrupting your concentration, your heightened hearing captures the gradual crescendo of hoofbeats, a rhythmic melody slowing to a gentle cadence.

The hoofbeats draw nearer, and your heart matches their slow, rhythmic approach. A mysterious sensation caresses your back, creating an anticipation that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

With a resounding whinny, Mikrokosmos echoes her presence against your back, a triumphant melody of connection. Pride surges through you like a victorious anthem. Overwhelmed with joy, you pivot slowly, locking eyes with your equine companion, and tenderly pat her forehead, sealing the bond that has blossomed between you.

As Mikrokosmos revels in her joined connection with you, a swell of pride, you become aware of Yoongi’s gratified grin. Yet, amidst the shared triumph, your eyes catch another figure— Deiji, leaning casually against the fence, her smile mirroring the prideful moment as an unexpected witness to your accomplishment.

“That was amazing!” Her voice practically squeaks with amazement, prompting an eye roll from you.

She glances between you and Yoongi, her voice carrying a sweet and eager tone as she proposes, “I was wondering if I could assist you with the horses?” Despite her happy demeanor, you can’t quite shake off the underlying discomfort you feel in her presence.

You don’t want her help. Refusing her offer with a swift and almost brusque retort, “No.” The refusal spills from your lips with an unintended edge, its abruptness catching even Yoongi off guard. He arches an eyebrow at your firm response, a smirk playing on his lips as he finds amusement in your conviction.

Undeterred by your rejection, Jimin’s girlfriend gracefully accepts your refusal, her smile unwavering. “Okay. Please let me know if I can help you somehow,” she offers, her kindness contrasting with the tension lingering in the air.

With a hint of sarcasm, you snide at her, the forced smile on your face barely concealing the complex emotions within. You nod in acknowledgement, and as she releases her grip on the fence, she retreats gracefully towards the house, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in the air.

You stand firm in your independence, a resolute desire echoing in your mind — you don’t want assistance, especially not from her.

Yoongi gracefully descends from the fence, his presence blending seamlessly with the rhythmic strokes of your hand against Mikrokosmos, creating a moment where time seems to pause, encapsulating the essence of your shared connection with the wild horses.

“Did you really have to be so rude to her?” Yoongi chuckles beside you, his laughter a dissonant melody to the tension in the air, and you can’t help but mutter a few choice words under your breath, realizing the complexity of your emotions.

You pivot towards him, a tempest of frustration swirling in your gaze. “She is the enemy!”

His laughter persists, revealing the expanse of his gums. You exhale sharply. “I can’t have her clouding my thoughts while I’m trying to find solace in my work.”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nah, I get it. You’re just yearning for that Park dick to fill you up,” he teases, winking playfully.

Your face heats up, a crimson blush spreading across your cheeks, and you shoot Yoongi an indignant glare. In a hushed tone, laced with irritation, you hiss, “Yoongi!” — wary not to disturb Mikrokosmos with your sudden outburst.

“Are we going on another epic grocery haul?” you tease with a laugh, watching Ara expertly navigate the car towards town. The anticipation builds as you approach, eager to snatch up all the essentials Jessi has meticulously scribbled down on her ever-growing list.

The town unfolds on the horizon, and a surge of excitement bubbles within you. It’s peculiar how a routine grocery trip can evoke such giddiness. Perhaps it’s the prospect of escaping the looming presence of Jimin and Deiji that adds an unexpected thrill to the mundane task.

So far, you’ve become a master of avoiding the couple. If Jimin harbors no desire for conversation, you find yourself questioning the necessity of extending the courtesy to him or his girlfriend.

Admittedly, you’re toeing the line of childish behavior, but damn it, it’s hard to resist. The complexity of your feelings for Jimin unfolds like a tangled web. While you harbor genuine affection, it feels like your chance slipped away, and he’s unwilling to grant you the opportunity to clarify or even listen. You grasp the sting of being picked last, yet you can’t help but wonder – did you fail to convey your feelings clearly enough for Jimin to comprehend?

Damn it, you wish Yoongi never kissed you. Then this wouldn’t be happening.

In a moment of exasperation, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Despite the internal mandate to banish thoughts of Jimin from your mind, his presence permeates your thoughts once more, defying your attempts at self-control.

Ara skillfully guides the car into a coveted parking spot near the grocery store carts, strategically positioning you for an efficient grocery haul. The convenience of proximity promises a seamless transfer of bags from store to car, sparing you unnecessary hassle in loading up your supplies.

“I’ll go grab a cart,” you declare, pushing the car door handle. Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin follow suit, emerging from the vehicle with shared anticipation for the shopping expedition.

As your fingers inch toward the cart handle, your attention is abruptly drawn to a familiar figure across the street.

Park Jimin.

Jimin and Deiji share a moment across the street, his whispered words causing her to blush and giggle. Even though their conversation is out of earshot, the infectious sound of her laughter echoes in your mind. With a scuff, you finally grasp the handlebar of the cart, but your attention remains fixed on Jimin.

He seems happy, a devilish smile gracing his lips, and you yearn for that happiness to be aimed in your direction. His fingers play through Deiji’s hair in a seductive dance, and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, restraining a moan you presume, ignites a surge of anger within you. Red dots line your vision as Jimin’s hand trails down to the small of her back, and all you can see is an intense shade of red.

“What’s the holdup?” Soo-ah quips from behind, but met with your silence, she traces the direction of your gaze instead.

“Oh no, sweetheart…” she murmurs, her voice tinged with sadness, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. A stifled sniff escapes you, tears threatening at the edge of your waterline.

No, crying is the last thing you want to do now. Hold it in.

Your gaze remains fixated on Jimin’s intimate gestures with Deiji, and a suffocating sensation grips your chest. It’s as if the air has grown thin, and a nauseating wave washes over you, threatening to spill an unsettling mix of emotions.

The other girls gather around you, creating a supportive barrier on either side, momentarily diverting your attention from the magnetic presence of Jimin. Their friendship acts as a shield against the emotional turmoil, offering a brief respite from the intense gravitational pull of Jimin’s figure.

“I just don’t understand,” you mumble, your gaze fixated on the ground, a wave of queasiness washing over you. As you lift your eyes, they inadvertently meet Jimin’s across the road in the parking lot. The irresistible brown orbs lock onto yours, causing your breath to hitch, and your body freezes. His expression is a tumultuous mix of anger and spite, a hurtful glare that pierces through you. A small voice in your mind begins to wonder if this spiteful display is born out of pettiness, and the question lingers – would he truly be so petty?

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten their grip on the cart’s handlebar. Will this overwhelming ache ever dissipate, or are you destined to carry this horrible feeling forever?

Soo-ah and the rest of the girls guide you away from the cart station, gently urging you into the store. Everything inside becomes a blurry haze. A strange ringing noise echoes in your ears, its origin unclear. Your heart aches with an intensity you’ve never felt, and you start to question if you’re beginning to get sick.

“Can you manage the rest? I’m not feeling well…” Your voice carries a low, deflated tone, and the sensation of your vision spinning intensifies, leaving you dizzy. The unfamiliar feeling bewilders you. The girls nod, concern evident in their eyes, yet they allow you to leave their company.

You navigate your way out of the grocery store at a deliberate pace, locate the car, unlock it, swing the door open, and plop down in the seat. Leaving the door ajar, you take in the fresh air, hoping it might provide some relief.

Exhaling deeply, you sense your heartbeat gradually slowing down, but a nagging question lingers in your mind. Is illness creeping in, or is it the persistent ache in your chest that intensifies every time Jimin comes into view? The unexplained heaviness remains, leaving you searching for answers amid the uneasy beats of your heart.

As the girls return with a brimming cart full of groceries, you muster a wry smile. Once the car is loaded, they encircle you, offering tender hugs that carry warmth and reassurance, their silent promise echoing that, despite the current storm, everything will eventually find its way to calm waters.

You secure the seat belt, and Ha-rin takes the wheel, steering you homeward. Your head finds a resting place against the window, and you gaze out with a distant stare. The scenery, painted in hues of green, blue, and gentle yellows, unfolds like a soothing watercolor, gradually lulling your weary mind into a momentary state of tranquility.

Against the cool window, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, only to find yourself entangled in dreams where deep brown eyes pierce through you with a spiteful glare, carrying the weight of disappointment. Haunted by strands of blonde hair, your heart clenches, and amidst the fragments of slumber, you grapple with the question of how things went so awry between you and Jimin.

Every time you’re working with the wild horses, the world fades away. Jimin’s laughter, and the image of his overly joyful girlfriend, lose their vividness in the company of these majestic creatures. You don’t understand how a person can be so happy, it’s like a mystery you can’t unravel. Maybe it’s because your own mood mirrors the darkness of obsidian, overshadowing any hint of joy.

Perched atop the fence, your gaze follows Yoongi’s skilled hands at work on Holly. Today’s session involves a saddle on her back and a bridle, and you can’t help but marvel at the seamless harmony between them. Holly responds with grace, a testament to Yoongi’s expertise. In this transformative process, she inches closer to the coveted status of a fully trained stock horse, a journey Yoongi confidently assures you she’s on the brink of completing.

Your eyes trace Yoongi’s every move as he guides Holly in a mesmerizing gallop around the pen. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of calm, an unspoken understanding between rider and horse. Holly’s spirit, once untamed, now dances gracefully under Yoongi’s expert guidance, creating a scene that is both captivating and harmonious.

Yoongi’s question slices through your contemplation, catching you off guard like a sudden gust of wind. “Do you want to go for a ride?” His words, a tempting invitation, hang in the air, coaxing you to escape the confines of your thoughts and embrace the freedom that awaits on horseback.

Your eyes widen as his proposition sinks in, but you respond with a subtle nod, your silent agreement carrying the weight of anticipation.

As Holly gradually slows to a trot and then eases into a lazy walk, Yoongi reveals, “This is the final test for Holly.”

With a thoughtful expression, Yoongi shares his plan to test Holly’s adaptability in the wild. Intrigued, he proposes, “Why not venture out and seek the herd of wild horses again?”

It might just be the escape you need from this ranch and its owner, who continues to stir uncomfortable feelings within your now delicate heart.

Jumping off the fence with a renewed sense of purpose, you stride towards the gate. As Yoongi gracefully maneuvers Holly out of the pen, you secure the gate behind you. Your journey continues with determined steps, leading you to where Marshmallow patiently awaits, reins neatly fastened to the fence.

You gently release the reins, your fingers caressing Marshmallow’s neck, eliciting a contented whinny. Placing your foot in the stirrup, you effortlessly swing your leg over his sturdy white frame. The moment you settle into the saddle, a profound sense of belonging washes over you, soothing your restless soul. The inexplicable bond between you and horses never fails to astound you, creating a sanctuary of comfort with every ride.

With a tender smile, your heart lightens, and you delicately urge Marshmallow into a trot by applying subtle pressure with your legs. As you follow Yoongi, the rhythmic beat of hooves creates a symphony that resonates with the newfound tranquility within you.

Embarking on a journey over the rolling hills, the grass beneath remains an enchanting green, bathed in the warmth of lingering summer. A gradual canter carries you through the landscape, your thoughts dissipating, leaving space for the soothing breeze to play with your hair, accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of hooves that mirrors the cadence of your own heart.

Lost in the passage of time, the duration of your ride eludes you, the profound silence between you and Yoongi accentuating the harmony of nature. The mountains, standing proud and towering in the distant horizon, seem to extend warm embraces, enveloping you in a sense of belonging to this picturesque landscape.

As you traverse the landscape, the familiarity of the woods, the serene lake where laughter once echoed with Jessi, and the expansive paddocks that seem to stretch endlessly into the horizon become a poignant backdrop to the rhythm of your horse’s hooves.

The wind tousles your hair, and there’s a fleeting sense that, perhaps, everything is gradually finding its way to being alright.

Lost in the vast expanse, you ride on, the anticipation building within you, wondering if today will be another day the wild horses grace you with their presence. The landscape sprawls before you, an unfamiliar tapestry of nature’s secrets waiting to be unveiled.

As you speak, a soft melancholy smile graces your lips, “I don’t think we’ll see them today, Yoongi.” Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the hope that eluded you, a silent acknowledgment that not everything unfolds as desired—recent events serving as a poignant reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.

“I don’t even know where we are,” you sigh, bringing the horses to a gentle trot. Your gaze sweeps across the expansive landscape, a moment of shared uncertainty between you and Yoongi.

“I know where we are, don’t worry,” Yoongi assures you, confidence lacing his voice as you both come to a full stop before a vast and lush forest.

You release the reins, allowing Marshmallow to lower his head and graze on the lush grass, while Holly follows suit. Holly’s remarkable behavior on this ride surprises you; her wild and untamed nature seamlessly hidden beneath a calm exterior. If it weren’t for her untamed origins, she could easily pass as a seasoned stock horse, blending effortlessly into the peaceful scenery.

While allowing Marshmallow and Holly to graze peacefully, their heads suddenly snap up, ears perked forward in unison, attuned to a sound that hasn’t yet reached your own ears. Then, like a wave crashing over you, the familiar rhythm of hooves pounding against the earth becomes clear – a wild and untamed symphony echoing through the air.

As the herd of wild horses materializes in the distance, a charismatic dark brown stallion commands the front, orchestrating the untamed ballet of freedom. They present a majestic spectacle, embodying the essence of the wild – eyes reflecting untold stories, a blend of soulful wisdom and mischievous spirit. With a profound exhale, you find yourself immersed in a deep appreciation for these creatures and the untamed nature that surrounds you.

Holly stands poised, her gaze locked onto the passing herd, perhaps recognizing the familiar faces of her once-wild family. Despite the untamed energy coursing through the herd, she remains steadfast, mirroring your own stance, both of you immersed in silent observation.

The sight of the wild horses in full gallop is nothing short of breathtaking, and as they surge across the landscape, a surge of emotion tightens your heart in your chest, leaving you captivated by the untamed beauty unfolding before your eyes.

In a hushed and reverent tone, you marvel, “They are so beautiful,” your words barely more than a breath, yet carrying the weight of admiration. A subtle nod from Yoongi acknowledges the shared appreciation of the magnificent spectacle before you.

As your heart swells with longing, a sense of crushing desire envelops you, wishing for the freedom these majestic horses possess—to express your truth and embrace the things you yearn for in life. The ache intensifies, a silent plea echoing in the vast expanse of the open landscape.

Your hands clutch the reins, and a damp sensation draws your attention. Glancing down, you discover small droplets of water clinging to your skin. A subtle sniffle escapes you, and it dawns on you—tears cascade down your cheeks, marking your hands with the tangible evidence of your silent emotional storm.

A constriction tightens your chest, and you draw in a deep breath, hoping to ease the pressure, only to release it in a slow exhale. The rhythm of your breath echoes the emotional turbulence within.

Yoongi’s gaze gently turns in your direction, his expression a silent symphony of understanding. No words escape his lips, yet the warmth of a caring smile lingers, offering a comforting embrace in the quietude between you.

You lift a trembling hand to your face, attempting to quell the rebellious tears that seem to have a life of their own. Your breath quickens, a desperate effort to steady your heart and rein in the tumultuous tide of emotions.

With a tear-streaked face, you turn to Yoongi, your eyes carrying the weight of a profound sadness. “Have you ever loved someone so much, it feels like you’re suffocating?”

Your heart carries the weight of your confession, a mix of both burden and liberation. The unspoken truth finally escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet spaces of your soul. Your feelings for Jimin, profound and unyielding, create a storm within, rendering you incapable of coherent thought, drowning in irrationality and a bitter sea of jealousy.

“Yeah,” he utters with a weighted exhale, the weight of that single syllable hangs thick in the air, a tangible presence in the shared space between you. Compassion wells up within you, not just for him, but for your own tender heart. Silent tears continue their descent, accompanied by a subdued sniffle that punctuates the shared vulnerability in the moment.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grumbling under your breath, you meticulously tend to the veggie garden, methodically extracting weeds and inspecting the plants for any sign of ripe fruit. Kneeling on a plush mat to provide respite for your beleaguered knees, your hands adorned with protective gloves, ensuring that both your hands and fingers remain shielded as you immerse yourself in the nurturing care of the flourishing garden.

Amidst the monotony of this laborious task, you find yourself immersed in the meticulous chore of weeding, the unfortunate bearer of the short straw today. Rows of carrots and potatoes bear witness to your diligent efforts as you navigate through the verdant expanse, determined to extract every intrusive weed that dares encroach upon the fertile soil.

Lost in contemplation, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps stealthily closes in on you, their approach unheard in the sanctuary of your introspective musings.

“Hi, I’m going into town,” your sister’s sudden announcement startles you from your gardening reverie. As you look up, her intent gaze meets yours, a tapestry of confusion woven into your expression.

“Why are you heading into town? Weren’t you supposed to tackle the tax today?” you inquire, your hands continuing their task of pulling stubborn weeds from the soil.

“I have that doctor’s appointment, remember?” Her raised eyebrow prompts a silent scold for forgetting such an important detail.

Panic flickers in your eyes as you abruptly halt your weeding, staring at your sister with genuine concern. “When did you mention the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?” Worry lines crease your forehead, a mix of surprise and anxiety clouding your expression.

With a light chuckle, she tries to alleviate your concerns, “Just a routine checkup, no big deal!” Her laughter carries a reassuring tone, and as she waves, the softness in her expression mirrors the warmth that envelops you.

You return her smile, your gaze lingering as she strolls away toward the yard, where the cars patiently wait.

“See you later,” she calls with a wave. From your perch in the veggie garden, you observe her unlocking the car, slipping into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck. The tail lights illuminate briefly, transitioning to brake lights before shifting to the soft glow of white. Jessi maneuvers in reverse, the wheels crunching on the dirt road as she disappears toward town.

As you return to the arduous task of pulling weeds, you find yourself grappling with the relentless tendrils of frustration, a silent curse escaping your lips like a rebellious whisper. Resigned to the fate of having drawn the shortest straw, you navigate through the sea of stubborn greenery, each tug of resistance echoing the monotony of your predicament.

Beneath the blazing midday sun, gratitude washes over you for the protective refuge of your hat, casting a welcomed shadow upon both your face and neck. Yet, despite this shield, beads of perspiration dance down your forehead, a testament to the unexpected physical rigor of the task at hand. The sheer demand of the job dawns upon you, surpassing your initial expectations.

Anticipating the aftermath, you realize the likelihood of waking up tomorrow with sore arms, an inevitability intensified if you neglect the crucial post-labor ritual of stretching your fatigued muscles.

Emerging victorious from your laborious undertaking, you navigate your way into the kitchen, a sanctuary promising respite in the form of an icy glass of water. As the fridge door swings open, a cascade of cool air envelops your sweat-drenched face, offering a fleeting reprieve before you reluctantly seize the chilled jug. Your quest for relief continues as you reach for an overhead cabinet, extracting a glass that promises salvation. The sensation of the glass against your palms is a prelude to the ecstasy that follows as you pour the water, savoring its frosty embrace. With each indulgent gulp, the frigid liquid becomes a balm, soothing the searing heat that has claimed your body in this relentless weather.

Savoring the rejuvenating coolness, you lean leisurely against the countertop, the glass of water a welcome oasis in your hands. Just as the refreshing liquid begins to work its magic, Soo-ah strides into the kitchen, her expression twisted into a weird frown.

Your discerning gaze sweeps over Soo-ah’s form, a subtle intuition whispering that something is amiss, yet the unspoken question lingers on your lips. Before you can voice your inquiry, she breaks the pregnant silence, her words hanging in the air like a cryptic prelude. “Have you seen Jessi?”

A subtle tremor courses through your being as you dismissively shake your head, “She’s in town for a doctor’s appointment.”

A shadow of concern paints Soo-ah’s features as she deftly retrieves her phone from the depths of her pocket, her eyes flicking to the screen with a mixture of urgency and unease. “How long has she been gone?”

A ripple of disquiet snakes its way through you, fueled by Soo-ah’s restive demeanor. Methodically, you rewind the clock in your mind, tallying the hours since Jessi’s presence graced your sight. “About five hours,” you declare, the admission carrying a weight that coils into an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Weariness etches itself deeper into Soo-ah’s countenance, her features now a canvas painted with both fatigue and concern. Your heartbeat quickens, a subtle but undeniable jolt, as the realization takes hold—this is not merely a cause for concern, but an ominous sign that tightens its grip around your heart, intensifying the ominous gravity of the moment.

A sudden, piercing ring shatters the stillness, and your gaze instinctively darts towards the source—a resonating chime from the landline. The air tightens around you, your heartbeat accelerating into a rapid cadence, each breath shallow and tense. A palpable wave of dread courses down your spine, a cold shiver that heralds an impending revelation. Locking eyes with Soo-ah, both of you stand frozen, caught in the ominous limbo between the echoing ring and the unknown that awaits on the other end of the line.

You should pick it up dammit! A stern scolding echoing in your mind, compelling your body into animated motion that seems detached from your own will. With a sense of urgency, you traverse the space to the countertop, your hand stretching out towards the ringing phone. As your fingertips make contact with the cream-colored plastic, a surge of anxiety courses through them, a prelude to the unknown that awaits on the other end. The plastic yields beneath the pressure of your grip, and in the hushed anticipation, you lift the receiver, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension.

“Hello, Bora Ranch. How can I help you?”

The voice on the other end of the line weaves a narrative that acts like a chilling undertow, dragging your heart into an abyss of despair. Your hand involuntarily tightens around the phone, a desperate grip as if it were your sole connection to a vanishing lifeline.

The voice on the other end, that of the doctor’s receptionist, cuts through the air, delivering news that lands with a disconcerting weight.

“We’re calling to let you know that Jessi missed her appointment today, and we wanted to know if she wants to reschedule another one?”

You then realize that weird feeling you’ve been having— this isn’t good.

A furrow etches itself onto your brow, the cord winding around your other hand as if trying to anchor you in a moment slipping out of your control. “She hasn’t come home yet. Can I get back to you?”

The words hang in the air, delivered with a voice that quivers with a blend of unease and uncertainty, as you begin to grasp what this means.

The receptionist’s agreement is a somber symphony in your ears before bidding goodbye. With a heart weighed down by the gravity of the call, you delicately place the receiver back in its cradle. As your eyes shift back to Soo-ah, her visage mirrors your own unsettled state, her features etched with a shared tension, a palpable reflection of the worry that swirls between you like an unspoken storm.

A thick silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken fears.

Soo-ah, unable to bear the weight any longer, shatters the tension like fragile glass. “Well, what is it?” Her words cut through the quiet, a desperate plea for answers.

You’re afraid.

Dread coils around your words, a vice grip on your throat as you grapple with the weight of unspoken fears. The hesitation lingers, but the urgency pushes you to break the silence. “Jessi never made it to her appointment…”

You observe the subtle transformation in Soo-ah’s face, a haunting dance between anguish and concern.

“Well, where is she then?” Soo-ah demands, her voice betraying an unsteady cadence that mirrors the delicate balance of the unspoken question hanging in the air, as if the answer hinges on your words. Your gaze reflects uncertainty, exhaling a breath heavy with the weight of the unknown.

“I think something bad has happened to her,” your voice wavers, the admission reluctant and laden with a vulnerability that you wish could be erased. The words, heavy with an unwelcome truth, carry the weight of a foreboding certainty that reverberates deep within your bones—an ominous resonance that refuses to be silenced.

Soo-ah, with her once sun-kissed complexion drains of its warmth, now veering into an eerie, almost gray pallor. A whisper of worry taints her words as she utters, “We should call Jungkook.”

With a solemn nod, you reach for your phone, fingers betraying a subtle tremor as you punch in Jungkook’s number. As you raise the phone to your ear, the weight of the impending conversation echoes in the hollow space between each ring.

Holding your breath, time stretches into an agonizing eternity as you strain to listen to each ring, each heartbeat resonating in the charged stillness. The suspense tightens like a coil around your chest until, finally, a tremulous exhale escapes as Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence.

“This is Kook.”

An instant paralysis grips your vocal cords, a sudden constriction that renders your throat a silent battleground, incapable of surrendering even a solitary word.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s inquiry pierces the heavy silence, his voice carrying a note of concern that seems to reverberate through the unspoken void on the other end of the line.

A glacial stillness descends upon you, an icy grip that renders you immobile.

Words, elusive and stubborn, refuse to surface. Soo-ah’s worried gaze lingers on you, but in a decisive sweep, she snatches the phone from your ear, her move cutting through the stasis like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a frozen landscape.

“Hi, it’s Soo-ah. We need your help,” her voice, a steady prelude to the storm brewing beneath the surface, carries the weight of urgency as she unfolds the crucial details. “Jessi left for a doctor’s appointment, but she never made it, and it’s been five hours now. We’re afraid something has happened… Will you help us search for her?”

The murmur of Jungkook’s response on the other end remains elusive to your ears, but Soo-ah, in a breathy exhale that holds a universe of gratitude, utters a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She returns your lifeline– the phone, with a subtle yet meaningful gesture, restoring it to your hands as if passing the torch for the impending journey into the unknown.

“He’ll be here in 10 minutes to pick you up,” she discloses, the gravity of her concern etching deeper creases onto her forehead.

“What are you gonna do then?” The words burst from you, riding the crest of a wave formed by a potent mix of frustration and worry, their resonance echoing in the room.

“I’m going to stay here… In case she comes home,” she reveals, her commitment to a vigil laden with unspoken hope. But then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, “or if the hospital calls.”

The weight of her last admission sends a sinking feeling through your chest, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Understanding settles in, and you offer a solemn nod, bracing yourself for Jungkook’s imminent arrival as the silent countdown to unravel the mystery begins.

Before the sleek silhouette of his black pickup truck materializes, the air is sliced by the cacophony of tires screeching—a desperate symphony of grip and resistance against the unforgiving dirt, an audible testament to the urgency that propels Jungkook towards the yard.

You dash outside, the urgent thud of your footsteps aligning with the accelerating heartbeat of the moment. Jungkook hurtles down the driveway, a kinetic force in his speeding vehicle that screeches to a dramatic halt before you. The window rolls down, revealing a face etched with determination, and he hollers, “Get in.”

Obediently following his command, you seize the door handle, leaping into the truck with a hurried intensity. The door barely has time to shut before Jungkook slams his foot on the accelerator, leaving a swirling cloud of sand in the wake of the roaring vehicle.

Worry etches deep lines into his face, transforming his normally composed features into a tapestry of concern. His lips press into a stern line, and his eyes, laser-sharp, pierce through the windshield, scanning the road ahead. The white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrays a tension that courses through him, turning his knuckles into pale anchors of anxiety.

“What the hell happened?” The words slice through the air, dripping with a demanding tone that carries an undertone of a hiss, a viper’s sharpness in each syllable.

Turning toward him, you admit with a meekness that hangs in the air, “I don’t know.” Your voice, a delicate whisper, contrasts with the clenching of your hands over your pants, while your bottom lip falls victim to the anxious bite of nerves. Fuck.

The weight of hope and fear interlaces in your thoughts—desperately wishing Jessi is safe, yet haunted by the gnawing question of why, if she is, hasn’t she reached out?

Jungkook maneuvers the vehicle like a man possessed, hurtling down the lone road that unravels into town with a velocity that borders on recklessness. This is Jessi’s path, the very route she would undoubtedly have traversed.

Your heart orchestrates a frenzied symphony of worry and fear, its rapid tempo matching the breakneck speed at which Jungkook propels the truck forward.

The uneven terrain jolts beneath the truck’s tires, a relentless assault on the vehicle as it hurtles down these rugged, neglected roads. The coarse reality of the battered path becomes starkly apparent with every bone-rattling bump, each pothole a testament to the less-than-ideal conditions.

“Slow down unless you want us to crash!” You warn him in a stern voice as desperation fuels your words and you clutch the handle at the top of the truck, your knuckles turning white as you seek stability amid the turbulent velocity.

He merely huffs, an audible dismissal that betrays the resilience of his determination. It’s evident that your words struggle to penetrate the thick armor of his focus. However, your own concerns take precedence, and the prospect of a car accident looms like an ominous specter in the midst of your search for Jessi.

“Fucking slow down or let me drive!” The urgency in your yell slices through the truck, a desperate ultimatum that demands immediate action. A tangible flinch from Jungkook, beside you, signals the impact of your words. With a reluctant release, he eases his right foot off the gas pedal, and the once-roaring speed of the vehicle unravels into a gradual deceleration.

“Thank you,” you declare with a furious edge, your gratitude tinged with the lingering urgency of the search.

Jungkook skillfully guides the turn with a precise speed, threading the needle between velocity and caution. As the vehicle emerges from the curve, the truth unravels before your eyes.

A sight that sends your heart plummeting, and an unspoken pact of dread settles between you and Jungkook, a bone-chilling silence that engulfs the interior of the truck.

There it is, the all-too-familiar white pickup truck, an unexpected apparition right before you, nestled on the side of the road. It’s not parked; it’s crumbled against a tree.

Jungkook wrenches his truck to a sudden halt, the engine silenced with a precision that echoes the urgency of the moment. In a flash, he bolts out of the car, a whirlwind of determination propelling him towards the scene. You trail closely in his wake, the echoes of your pounding heart reverberating alongside a disorienting ringing in your ears.

You sprint towards the crumpled wreckage, the front of the car wedged against the unforgiving tree. Panic fuels your frantic search for your sister amidst the twisted metal. Jungkook beats you to the driver’s side, and in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse, you tiptoe over his shoulders.

The chilling reality reveals itself—blood stains the window, and Jessi’s head, eyes closed, rests against it in an unsettling image.

Fuck.

“Jessi!” The desperate cry erupts from deep within you, a primal howl behind Jungkook, and you resort to clawing at his back in a futile attempt to let you pass. However, he remains an immovable barrier, unyielding in his protective stance.

His hand extends, a forceful gesture that wards you off, and his demanding tone slices through the charged air, declaring, “No, let me.”

You cease your futile attempt to scratch through the barrier of Jungkook’s back, relinquishing control to his judgment. Your gaze fixates on the unfolding scene as he seizes the door handle, pounding on the window while the fervent echo of your sister’s name reverberates through the stagnant air.

A leaden weight settles upon your heart, dragging it down to depths unknown, and you slump to the unforgiving ground beside the truck. The haunting question hangs in the air, an unspoken fear clawing at your consciousness—could she be dead?

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a poignant manifestation of your helplessness, as you watch the scene unfold. The overwhelming sense of uselessness engulfs you like a suffocating shroud because Jungkook, with his determined insistence, bars you from contributing to the unfolding crisis.

Jungkook channels every ounce of his strength into wrenching the door handle, a Herculean effort that, to your dismay, yields no success. Undeterred, he pivots, striding purposefully around the car to attack the problem from the passenger’s side. The moment of truth arrives as the door finally acquiesces to his relentless determination, swinging open with a sudden release of pent-up tension. Jungkook, caught off guard by the door’s sudden compliance, is propelled backward, almost airborne, a visceral testament to the raw force he exerted in the pursuit of accessing the vehicle’s interior.

With a determined crawl into the cabin, Jungkook bridges the agonizing gap between hope and despair, finally reaching your sister. The urgency in his voice echoes through the air as he commands, “Call an ambulance!”

You rise from the unforgiving ground, a determined surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With swift precision, you extract your phone, fingers dancing with urgency as you dial those three critical numbers.

“Is she alive?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile whisper that dares not disturb the gravity of the moment. Holding your breath, you await his answer, the air thick with the weight of an impending revelation that could reshape the contours of your reality.

“She’s breathing,” Jungkook exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, a momentary respite from the tension. You approach the driver’s window, eyes fixed on your sister’s form. The sight of her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm becomes a visual anchor, a palpable reassurance that she clings to life.

Well, that’s good.

Cradling the phone to your ear, you navigate the urgent conversation, orchestrating a plea for the ambulance to converge on your dire location. The proximity of the ranch intensifies the raw reality—you aren’t that far away. A sinking feeling grips your heart as you grasp the cruel expanse of time she’s endured out here, alone and injured.

Jungkook delicately prods Jessi’s arm, a gesture pregnant with hope, yet the anticipated response remains elusive—a disheartening void that echoes the uncertainty of the situation.

“I know it looks bad, but we shouldn’t move her. It’s best to wait for the paramedics,” Jungkook utters reluctantly from the passenger’s seat.

You acknowledge the truth in his words, but your gaze lingers on Jessi, a silent witness to the vivid evidence of her injuries—blood seeping from her head. The unsettling unknown looms large, a haunting question mark etched across your thoughts—what other wounds might she be concealing beneath the shadows of her stillness?

The wait for the ambulance unfolds like a nightmarish blur until the air is pierced by the sound of a low voice. Both you and Jungkook pivot, your gazes converging on your sister, a crescendo of fear and anticipation reaching its zenith.

Jessi stirs, her murmurs threading through the air, but the coherence of her words eludes understanding. As her eyes tentatively flutter open, a feeble attempt to articulate follows, yet the utterances emerge as a nonsensical cascade, the syllables twisted into a form of gibberish.

“It’s okay. You’ve been in a car accident, and the ambulance is on its way,” Jungkook reassures, his words a tender balm delivered with a gentle caress on your sister’s cheek. Tears shimmer in his eyes, a raw display of his emotional turmoil, as his calloused fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheekbone.

Her head pivots towards you, eyes finally unveiling an unspoken distance, their luster dimmed. A pang reverberates through your chest as you meet her gaze—her eyes, once vibrant, now bear the weight of an unspoken ordeal. The visceral urge to pull her from the confinements of the wreck claws at your heart. Oh, why can’t you just extract her from this damn car, ensuring her safety and whisking away the haunting uncertainty that clings to the moment?

“It’s going to be okay,” Jungkook utters, his voice quivering with a blend of reassurance and uncertainty that reverberates through the air. His attempt at strength is palpable, yet the vulnerability seeps through the cracks as tears cascade down his face.

Yet amidst the chaos, a fervent hope takes root within you, a beacon amid the storm of uncertainty. A silent plea echoes in the depths of your being, transcending mere optimism, as you yearn—truly, desperately, for everything to unfold in a way that defies the ominous shadows cast by the present.

The wail of the ambulance siren pierces the air, heralding the arrival of salvation, and it swiftly aligns next to Jungkook’s car. A flurry of activity ensues as paramedics spill out, each armed with purposeful bags. Amidst the orchestrated urgency, some of them extract a stretcher from the belly of the ambulance.

Jungkook emerges from the car, gracefully ceding the realm to the paramedics, and approaches your side. His arm envelops your trembling frame, a silent reassurance amidst the tumult. No words pass between you as the paramedics meticulously cut the seatbelt, delicately affix a collar around Jessi’s neck, their movements choreographed in a synchronized ballet of urgency.

Within the orchestrated chaos, a paramedic deploys a machine, its mechanical whir echoing through the night, to pry open the driver’s door. Simultaneously, another paramedic stands sentinel, ensuring Jessi remains securely in place, a guardian against the imminent void that will unfold once the door is relinquished.

The scene is gruesomely vivid, and an involuntary welling of tears clouds your vision as the brutal reality sets in. Leaning into Jungkook’s unwavering presence, you find solace in the haven of his steady frame, though your sniffling breaths betray the emotional maelstrom within. As your tears mingle with his on the fabric of your shirt, a silent communion of shared vulnerability takes root.

With meticulous care, the paramedics lift Jessi from the driver’s side, each movement deliberate and measured as they lay her down on the stretcher. The air hangs heavy with collective breath, your own held in a suspended moment of agonizing anticipation. The constriction in your chest intensifies, a sensation of breathlessness seizing you. Seeking an anchor in the chaos, you find Jungkook’s hand, fingers interlocking in a tight, desperate grip—a physical manifestation of the silent plea echoing within as you navigate the precipice of uncertainty.

“We’ll transport her to the hospital in town. You can follow us if you want,” one of the paramedics offers, their words a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. Gratitude courses through you, and you manage a nod of appreciation, though the knot in your throat constricts your ability to voice your thanks.

Your gaze lingers on the departing ambulance, the doors sealing your sister’s fate within its sterile embrace. A quiet sniffle punctuates the lingering echoes of the departure. When you turn to Jungkook, his face bears the marks of tear-streaked sorrow, a testament to the profound love he harbors for your sister. The depth of his emotions mirrors the tumult within you, both bound by an unspoken yearning for everything to be right—for the fractures to heal and the shadows to dissipate in the face of an uncertain journey that now stretches before you.

The ambulance departs, leaving a gritty trail of dirt in its wake, a visual metaphor for the unsettling uncertainty now etched into your reality. Your gaze lingers on the vacated space it once occupied, a void that echoes the fear reverberating within. The future looms before you, an ominous terrain shrouded in ambiguity, and you grapple with the unrelenting questions that cast shadows on the path ahead.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

57 notes · View notes

chuuyas-height · 5 months ago

Text

A Gentleman's Word (The Cat Returns)

Hiii this is a short story for the #gt_gotcha_4_gaza and the chapter revolves around the Studio Ghibli movie "The cat returns"

This is absolutely sfw and fluffy :3

You can also find this on Wattpad and AO3

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The rays of the beaming sun gently bathed his golden fur in their warm light as the motionless statue came to life. The appearance of any humans in the world of cats was incredibly sparse, therefore Baron would rarely have any human customers. In fact, even with no humans around, other cats passed his doorstep on extremely rare occasions since the nature of his services was not seeked very often. Baron brushed his thoughts away with a stretch of his limbs as the shop bell rang, indicating the entrance of a client. He straightened the hem of his coat and patted the dust off his fancy clothes to make himself more presentable.

But no matter how distinguished Baron was, no amount of proper etiquette had the ability to stop his eyes from widening ever so slightly at the sight. By the door stood a human woman whom he mistakenly took for a girl. But he was not to be blamed. After all, most humans scaled up to three or four times his own size, and watching a human sport the same stature as him was an odd sight. The woman's small figure crept closer.

“H-Hello,” she stuttered, “is this the Cat Bureau? I-I was advised to come here… I was told you could maybe provide some aid to my predicament...” the lady voiced. As she approached, Baron got a better look at her features. Long, chestnut colored hair graced her shoulders as an anxious pair of hazel irises scanned the room. Her figure, abnormally petite for someone so mature, didn't dare wander too deep into the shop. That's when Baron decided to make his presence known by clearing his throat, earning a soft yelp from the smaller lady.

“I apologise for my imprudence.” said Baron as he removed his hat and bowed into a curtsy. “This is indeed the Cat Bureau and I, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, am at your full service.” As he rose once more and put the hat back on his head, Baron realised he was actually a few inches taller than the human woman. As she reached the same conclusion, the woman flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Baron spoke.

“What is your name, my fair lady?”

“My name is Anna. Pleased to meet you.”

“Well, dear Anna, your problem must be of an arcane or magical nature, hence your presence here. And if my judgement stands correct, your predicament revolves around your size, no?” The woman nodded and hesitantly took a step forward.

“That's right. It has just recently come to my attention that my body is reducing in size at a rapid rate. From what I observed, I lose around five inches of height every week and as you can already tell, it's quite bothersome.”

Baron hummed in acknowledgement, fondling the fur of his chin in thought. “I can see the source of your worries, my fair lady. I shall certainly start working on a cure right away, although please note it may take a considerable amount of time to gather all the necessary ingredients. I would advise you to stop by regularly so I can check up on your condition.”

The woman nodded as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She didn't want to get her hopes too high in case they came crashing down on her. “Very well. Thank you for your time, sir. Be certain I will return and best of luck with your work.”

Baron bowed his head as a thank you and escorted the lady out. After sharing their goodbyes, the cat returned to his spot and got to work right away.

~~~

True to her words, Anna returned many times, each one appearing smaller than the other. She was losing height gradually, going from three feet tall to a measly two feet tall in the span of two weeks. The velocity of her condition was especially concerning to Baron but he didn't wish to upset the shrinking lady. Instead he opted for optimism and faith in his potion-making abilities. Indeed, whenever the woman paid him a visit, he'd have a new, improved potion waiting for her. She'd happily accept and drink the mix of herbs, extracts and other “secret” ingredients, but her hopes shrivelled with every failed attempt that by now were too many to even count.

Eventually, Anna's predicament had reached a new low. One of those days, Baron was startled by a faint knock on his door. It was the middle of the night and unlike the other cats who were most definitely soundly asleep by that time, Baron was working his butt off, dedicated to reaching the root of the problem. He could sleep once his objective was completed. Wondering who it could possibly be this late at night, he marched to the door. Paws on the handle, he opened the door to find no-one. Confusion was written all over his features but a nearly silent sniffle caught his attention. Looking down, he was met with a tiny figure that undoubtedly belonged to Anna. She was so small she was only slightly bigger than a mouse. As she looked upwards to face the now giant to her cat, Anna's sobs died in her throat. He couldn’t help but observe that her small face was visibly red and adorned with the glistening patterns of fresh tears.

“I… I…shrunk again…” she said softly, barely audible to Baron who now towered above her. His heart swelled at the pathetic display before him and his paws reached down and scooped the woman up of their own accord. Her first reaction was to gasp, not expecting to get picked up all of a sudden. But as her cheek was pressed against the soft, fine material of his vest, she let it all out and a new flow of tears was released. “I-I am s-so scared.” she admitted with both her arms wrapped around his paw, her hands holding fistfuls of golden fur as if seeking some relief. “Worry not, for I will keep you company until you get back to normal.” he purred. Baron looked at the wrecked miniaturised lady with fondness and affection, while fear started to find its way through his heart. She was barely four inches tall. What if… What if he couldn’t help her after all?

He cursed his pessimistic thoughts and pressed the tiny woman harder against his chest in an attempt of comfort and security. It seemed to do the trick as the crying reduced to whimpering and eventually nothing more than occasional hiccups and a racing heart. Wordlessly, Baron walked back inside and took a seat by his work table, careful not to startle the jumpy lady in his paws. While still caressing and comforting the small lady, he had to keep up with his work and finish that potion. It could possibly be his last chance.

~~~

It had been hours since Anna had fallen asleep. By the time Baron mixed the very last ingredient, Anna was snoozing in the cat's vest pocket, huddled in the tight opening. Baron raised the vial with the deep lilac color up to his face, glaring at the thick fluid within. I hope this works, he thought and with a soft sigh, he delicately tried to awake the woman.

“My lady, wake up.” he purred. “There is a new potion I would like you to try.” Baron felt a shift near his chest as the tiny human poked her head out of his pocket, all while rubbing the sleep off her tired eyes. He reached into his pocket and scooped her out, laying her on the work table. He couldn’t tell if she was smaller than he remembered or if the lack of sleep was taking a toll on his body. Anna stood there expectantly, hoping this time everything would work out. At this point, the vial itself was bigger than Anna and Baron had to carefully lower it down to her level so she could take a sip. The woman tried holding the oversized tube but she honestly wouldn't manage much without Baron's help. She latched her lips on the edge and took careful, measured gulps.

The excitement had died off of her as soon as nothing happened after Baron pulled the vial away. She had to admit this one left behind a better after taste than the rest, but it meant nothing if she couldn’t turn back to her original size. Crestfallen, Anna felt her lids droop as the adrenaline slowly evaporated from her body, the previous exhaustion finally catching up. Looking outside the closed window and then at the big wooden clock decorating his wall, Baron decided they both had to catch up on some much needed sleep. He took the woman on his soft paws and headed to the expansive couch where he rested his body, with Anna's tiny form clinging at his sides.

The wearines the cat felt was so great he didn’t wake up until the early hours of noon. Not even the glaring sun managed to awake him. His eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh lightning, but something caught his attention either way. He was no longer on the couch. Startled, he searched for Anna's small body, only to find that he had been resting on the fully sized woman's torso all along. Elation overtook him as he realised his potion actually worked. Anna was still sleeping, unaware of what happened throughout the night. Something soft brushed her left arm and she shifted in her sleep.

“My lady.”

Baron's voice she could recognise anywhere, but what was off was the fact that she couldn’t hear him all around her. Anna's eyes snapped open and she was met with the cat standing on her torso and smiling proudly. “We did it.”

Anna was stunned, taking in her surroundings. Nothing towered above her anymore. Instead, she was the one who was too big now. Baron took the cue and climbed down the woman's torso as her upper body rose. Everything around her down to every detail was perfectly sized for a cat's comfort. She felt like the giant one for a second. But once she was over the mild shock, her heart picked up the pace and a smile adorned her pretty features. “Oh thank you so much! You did it!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around the cat's figure. “No need to thank me, my lady. After all, I only did my job.”

Anna shook her head. “It's not just that. Thank you for helping me out, and keeping me safe. Thank you for keeping me company and going through all that trouble just for me. I'll be eternally grateful to you, Baron.” And with that, Anna hugged the cat once more before squeezing herself out of the small Bureau and waving goodbye with a huge smile plastered on her face.

Baron couldn’t help but think she was beautiful. But then again, all humans were. And with that thought, he took his usual spot by the window until his next client's arrival.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

@gtgotcha4gaza <3

#gt gotcha4gaza #g/t #gt community #gt #giant x tiny #g/t community #Giant #Tiny #gt_gotcha4gaza #the cat returns #studio ghibli #baron humbert von gikkingen #Anime #fanfic #Fanfiction #my writing #Sfw

34 notes · View notes

macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months ago

Text

God, That's Good

Chapter 7: Wait

Alastor tries to ease Lucifer's impatience, and Vaggie comes by for a favor.

Tags: more brooding, banter, A PROPER KISS

Before I rant about my writing wife some more, I do want to advise that once we get past this chapter, things will be getting quite a bit darker and more explicit. There's murder; there's blood; there's cannibalism; there's a little sex (not dark, but still warranting a warning I think LOL). If you know the musical/movie I'm sure you have a vague idea of what's coming. Be mindful of these things from chapter 8 onwards- I'll make sure to put specifics in the tags for each chapter but PLEASE don't read if you think these things might be triggering or upsetting to you.

Back to our regularly scheduled vibes- as always, huge thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me stick to a normal schedule and being one of my absolute best friends and most enthusiastic supporters 😍 ALSO thank you to everyone that has liked/reblogged/commented- this AU has me in a chokehold and I'm stoked that others are enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it

PSSSST: Wednesdays have even more to look forward to! If you love Alastor being a questionable hottie as much as I do, check out @hazelfoureyes with A Doe in Fall that is ALSO updating on Wednesday evenings! I promise I'm very normal about this story and Hazel's writing in general (she said, lying, being very not normal about either thing)

Act 1: Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6 🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

Despite her promise to visit soon, it’s a fortnight later and the Beadle still has not come by Lucifer’s barbershop.

He would be the first to admit that he broods on it. Between customers of his now booming business, he spends hours sat in his chair staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the remnants of the man he used to be. He watches the tendons in his hands move as he shaves the gentlemen of New Orleans, thinking that they surely were not the same hands of Damien Diggory though they remained on his body all the same. Families came and went through his door, constantly reminding him of what he had lost, what the Beadle and Adam had to pay for, making his unease at her absence grow more every day.

He sat now in his empty shop with one of his razors in hand, staring down at the blue of his eyes reflected on the blade. He felt empty, numbness creeping from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and making his whole body feel like a hollowed out shell of a person- he looked the same, sounded the same, but the substance inside him was either missing or in the process of rotting where it sat. Charlie was still out of his reach, his revenge on hiatus until the Beadle saw fit to grace his shop with her presence. Everything was at a standstill, and the lack of activity beyond shaving was making him a madman, always pacing around the upstairs, approaching the entrance to his family’s old apartment and retreating like a coward.

A creak of the floor alerts him to the door opening, three soft knocks letting him know that it’s Alastor. He can hardly look the man in the eyes these days after he had embarrassed himself that night two weeks ago, when he had tripped into Alastor’s lap and pulled him into a kiss. It was embarrassment more than anything; thinking that he had reciprocated had been nothing but a figment of Lucifer’s drunk imagination, as Alastor hadn’t mentioned it since. Sometimes his eyes will fall on the younger man while Alastor is busy doing something else, and he uses those stolen moments to learn the curves of his face, imagining the blade skimming over his cheeks if he ever gave him the chance to give him a shave.

Alastor comes behind the chair, leaning his elbows on the back above Lucifer’s shoulders. “I thought you had no customers today,” he says softly, watching Lucifer in the mirror. “What are you doing up here, hm? Plotting?” He smiles slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up and giving him a mischievous look. “Or pouting?”

“It’s been a fortnight,” he laments, snapping the razor closed and placing it on the stand beside him. “Why has she not come?” He stands from the chair and starts to pace- surely he looks like a madman, stalking between the apartment door and the sizable chest that held his spare towels and aprons, hands taking through his hair.

Alastor sighs, his smile still in place. “Oh dear, a tantrum. How unbecoming. And just when I’ve started to think you were respectable.”

Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, Alastor- you don’t think it strange that she’s not arrived yet? You’d think such an ‘esteemed member of society’ could keep to a date.” Perhaps his air quotes and exaggerated accent were a tad childish, but it still makes Alastor laugh through his admonishment. “I’m… antsy, sitting around and waiting for her. They have to pay for what they did to Lilith, to me-”

“And they will.” Alastor leaves the chair to approach him, the proximity when he finally stops making Lucifer’s heartbeat pound in his throat. “Patience is key, my good man.”

“I’ve waited for so long already,” he groans. “Was fifteen years not enough? Must I wait another ten before I’ve avenged the wrongs against us?”

“So she’s a few days past when she said she would come,” Alastor says flippantly. “Do you not think that your over-eager manner won’t scare her off? Cause her to alert the Judge?”

Lucifer says nothing, not wanting to concede that he’s correct. He keeps his eyes on his feet, that hollow feeling returning to his chest and muffling the sound of Alastor’s voice as he continues talking. What would he do if she never came? Then surely Adam would never have reason to set foot in his parlor; he would never have his vengeance, Charlie would be lost to him, Lilith would be dead with nothing to show for his avenging her-

“Lucifer.” His head jerks up, and Alastor is watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

He’s sure his face flushes. “Of course I did,” he lies, “you were… shit-”

The smile returns to his face. “I was saying,” he says softly, “that perhaps you can use the time to update your bearings. Get some flowers, hang some decor on the wall- that will likely sway the Beadle’s mind as far as recommending your establishment to the Judge, if the walls are not bare as though you’ve just moved in.”

“I have just moved in,” Lucifer points out petulantly. “I’ve only just started taking customers this last fortnight, I’ve not had time for bearings as you well know.”

Alastor claps his hands together, the sound making Lucifer jump. “I’ll send Husker for a floral arrangement for you- I think it will really cheer the place up.” He glances at Lucifer, a slow drag of his eyes up and down the barber’s body that almost makes him feel shy with the heat it contains. “I was also thinking that the unknown waiting period we find ourselves in is not a wholly bad thing. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I find that half of the fun in a plot is making the plan itself! Especially when one has a partner.”

And to Lucifer’s surprise he steps closer, bridging the already short gap between their bodies and taking Lucifer’s hands in his own. “I, for one, have also been enjoying this time simply getting to know you.”

He thinks his brain stops working, the way his mouth stammers to get out a response to that. “Oh! Well, I- I mean, I’ve also been, you know. Enjoying you.” Alastor’s head tilts in amusement, and Lucifer realizes what he’s said. “Enjoying your company, I mean! Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Alastor murmurs, and he releases one of Lucifer’s hands to slide around his back, pulling him fully into his chest. “We did say that we would revisit the intimate portion of that night when you were no longer intoxicated. Tell me, Lucifer, are you under any influence at this time?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he shakes his head. It shakes some logic loose- that kiss had been a mistake, the door wasn’t locked if a customer approached, he was less than ten feet from the apartment he had shared with his dead wife- but doesn’t stop him from allowing Alastor to lean in and press their lips together.

It’s so much better now that he’s not drunk. The kiss is soft and gentle for a bit, simply their lips touching as they learn the ways they fit against one another. It’s not until Alastor fists a hand in his shirt to keep him close that Lucifer even considers trying to deepen it. His hands tremble from nerves instead of liquor when he reaches up to hold the back of Alastor’s head, fingers threading through his hair while a broken noise tears itself from the back of his throat. Alastor responds in kind, making a soft sound that’s lost in Lucifer’s mouth as he parts his lips, his tongue shyly seeking entrance that Lucifer is all too eager to give him.

Lightning sparks behind his eyes, heat flooding his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he knows he needs to end the kiss before he does something that both of them may regret- though he hates to break the intimacy of the moment, ravishing Alastor in his parlor was not on his agenda for the day. He would need time to plan, to properly court the baker perhaps before inviting him to his bed- not to mention the extra time he would need to whisper pleading prayers to Lilith to forgive him.

Lucifer pulls back, his resolve nearly broken when he sees the way that Alastor’s lashes flutter, a noise of confusion escaping him. “We-” He clears his throat, embarrassed at the low rasp of it. “We should stop for now. Which is not to say that I don’t want to kiss you more! I do, very much,” he rambles, and Alastor merely blinks slowly and watches his mouth move as he had that first night. “Just, we should take this a bit more slowly. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-”

“Rest assured, Lucifer,” he purrs, “you are not.” And that makes him lose his train of thought for a moment, with how husky and low the words come from Alastor’s mouth.

“Haah, well, still. I would like to take this a bit slower and do it right. If you would allow me to, you know, properly court you, I would very much like to do so.” He sounds stupid, he realizes, like a child with a crush asking them to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on a piece of paper; he just hopes Alastor isn’t put off by the formal request. Perhaps he would prefer something unspoken, more blinding, unplanned kisses that steal both of their breath and leave them panting and wanting more.

But thank God, Alastor simply smiles at him and takes his hand again. “I would like that as well,” he says, and Lucifer thinks he could just collapse from the relief he feels. “We shall go at whatever pace best suits us- though I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit impatient at times.” He watches Lucifer’s neck as he says this, and the barber knows he follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. “But by that logic, if I can wait for what I want, surely you can as well.”

Lucifer opens his mouth to respond- to admonish him, or perhaps pull him in for another kiss- when he hears the creaking of the stairs. He has just enough time to step back from Alastor before the door swings open, and he manages to hide his disappointment that it is not the Beadle, like he hoped, but Vaggie.

“Mister Morningstar!” She crosses the room to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake. “It’s been ages, I haven’t had much time to make it to this side of New Orleans but I’m happy to see you’re in business. And hello to you as well, sir,” she offers to Alastor, who gives her a small smile and turns to tidy something on the shelf behind him. “Mister Morningstar, I admit I have a favor to ask of you- there’s a woman, you see-”

Alastor scoffs behind them, and Vaggie’s eyes narrow into slits before she continues. “She is kind and beautiful, and stubborn beyond belief; she’s opened my eyes to so many new ideas and theories, and- her guardian poses a problem to any intentions I may have towards her, but late last night as we talked and the Judge called her away, Charlie slipped this into my hands.” She holds up a key, dark and dangling off a red ribbon. “It must be a sign, don’t you think?”

“Charlie?” He could hardly dare hope that it was her- that the Judge Vaggie spoke of was Adam, that such an opportunity to have her back was simply being dropped into his lap like this. “Charlie. And, the Judge, you say?”

“Charlie- Charlotte, I suppose, that is her name. And the Judge Cain and his lackey, the Beadle Sera Dempsey. They patrol the alley behind Cain’s home at random hours but despite this we’ve found days that we talk for hours before they can interrupt us. She is perfection, Mister Morningstar, and even if she doesn’t return my feelings I want to see her free from these jailers she’s in the care of. If I can convince her to leave with me tonight- perhaps later in the week, depending on when that horrid Judge is home- could I bring her here for shelter for an evening? Just until I can find a coach for hire to take her North with me, or wherever she wishes to go.”

She finally stops talking, taking a deep breath while she waits for Lucifer to answer her. He finds his words stuck in his throat- yes, bring her, please, bring her to me- and is dismayed to find a lump in his esophagus, halting his words behind the threat of tears. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes a couple times to rid himself of emotion. “You may bring her here,” he says, his heartbeat rapid in his veins, and Vaggie’s face lights up with joy.

“You’re a blessing, sir, thank you! I hope to see you again tonight, but in any case, I’ll come with Charlie soon!” She shakes his hand again, the force of it making him stumble, before she releases him and is back out the door as quick as a flash.

He turns almost absently to Alastor, who gives him a smile. “Who could have guessed?” He says cheerfully. “You’ll have her back before the week is out- possibly even before the day is done!”

“Charlie will be coming here,” he says distantly, and then it hits him like a train. “Charlie is coming! Oh God, what will she think of me? I need to- shave, maybe, or- should I grow it out? My beard was grown out when she was young, maybe that’s why she no longer recognizes me-”

“Lucifer.”

Alastor approached him slowly, like one might a feral animal- and that’s what he had felt like lately, some untamed beast stalking around his shop, so perhaps Alastor was right to take a cautious approach. “Perhaps we focus first on getting her here before you spiral about letting her know who you are, hm?”

“You’re right,” he says, and thank God for Alastor to help him keep a level head. “Of course, making sure she gets here safely is the most important part. But- we should clean the place up a bit! How soon do you think Husk can bring those flowers you mentioned? And I can dust the apartment, make sure that everything is tidy-”

He’s interrupted by the creaking of the stairs again, the bell at the bottom ringing loudly to signify someone coming. He expects Vaggie again, or even perhaps the Beadle at last. But to his confusion, it’s neither- Sir Edward Pentious stands in the doorway, his small assistant at his side and carrying a bag that was far too heavy for her slight frame and causing her to tilt to one side.

“Sir Pentious,” he greets cordially, “and… young lady.”

“I’m Niffty, sir,” she giggles, reaching a hand out to vigorously shake Lucifer’s. “Nice to meet you when you aren’t beating my boss in a shaving contest- and his shop is way nicer than yours too,” she directs to her employer, and he flushes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure you want to be a barber?”

“Niffty,” he hisses, and gently shoves her behind him. “I was hoping to speak with Mister Morningstar alone,” he directs to Alastor, who shrugs with a soft hum and leaves Lucifer’s side.

He meets Niffty at the door. “Well, aren’t you just a little wisp of a thing!” He says when he sees the bag she carries. He takes it from her hands and gestures her down the stairs. “Come along, I’ll see if I have anything adequate for you to eat…”

His voice and Niffty’s enthusiastic reply fade as they descend, leaving only Lucifer and the growing grin of Sir Pentious.

Again, a secret little 'so sorry, gotta do it' for the next chapter. Pour one out for Pentious y'all

Act 1: Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6 🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lucifer hazbin #radioapple #human lucifer morningstar #human alastor #sweeney todd #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ily frau <3 #God That's Good #GTG #slow slow slow burn #my stuff <3 #so sorry my sweet snakey boy #but the plot must plot

23 notes · View notes

thequeenviana · 6 months ago

Text

Inkbound

Chapter 4

Pairings:Kim Taehyung x OC x Jeon Jungkook

(A short chapter)

Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

...

"Thank you for joining us."

Jungkook's mother, Ella, expressed her gratitude to the new guest who arrived, with her husband, Jeon Ji-Sook beside her. Ji-Sook wore a bright smile as he interacted with the guests at their son's birthday celebration.

But then Ella turned abruptly to her husband, who passed on the gifts to the guard behind him. An expression of displeasure crossed her face.

"Where is he? He should be here greeting the guests!" Ella whispered sharply at Ji-Sook, who paused and scanned the room before catching the eye of his assistant, prompting the assistant to hurry over.

"Where is he?" Ji-Sook's tone was icy, making the assistant gulp nervously. Witnessing Ji-Sook's imposing presence, it was no wonder their son inherited his commanding aura.

Ji-Sook, a highly successful businessman alongside Kim Jungmin of the Kim Empire, was renowned not only for his wealth and status but also for his striking appearance. Despite his age, he still possessed a mature and attractive resemblance to a more seasoned Jeon Jungkook. Ella, once a top model, crossed paths with Ji-Sook, and their friendship blossomed into a widely known romance.

In his youth, Ji-Sook was a cold but a handsome figure, attracting numerous admirers who failed to capture his attention. He focused on his career, eventually reaching the pinnacle of success. Ella was the one who thawed his icy exterior, leading him to fall in love.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Ji-Sook spared no expense to lavish Ella with gifts. He even went as far as eliminating any potential suitors who vied for her attention.

Deeply in love with Ella, Ji-Sook had committed countless sins for her and their family, determined to protect their bond at all costs.

"He'll be down shortly," the assistant assured Ji-Sook before heading off to fetch the man in question.

Turning back to Ella, Ji-Sook encountered her gaze. She had overheard their conversation but redirected her attention to the arriving guests, flashing a practiced fake smile.

The grand mansion buzzed with high-class guests exchanging pleasantries. Soft music played in the background as some guests swayed to the rhythm, savoring the evening together. The atmosphere was filled with joy and celebration, creating an ambiance of warmth and camaraderie as everyone enjoyed the night away.

....

"Hey, what's up with you? It's your special day, but you look like you're at a funeral."

Jungkook turned his head slightly from the royal blue couch where he was seated to see who had interrupted him to see one of his friends,Jung Hoseok, a 27-year-old who owned the Jung Hotels. He was not only rich but also a handsome actor with a charming personality that drove girls worldwide crazy for him. Who wouldn't be madly in love with him? With his good looks, fit body, and being a billionaire at a young age, everyone wanted a piece of him, and no doubt even mens were impressed by him.

But behind the camera, ofcourse he was a very different person,known to be ruthless and cruel and only the closed persons to him knew.

"Nothing," Jungkook replied in a bored tone as he turned back to the event happening at the bottom of the stairs, looking uninterested.

"Oh, no one's fawning over you today, huh?"

A smirk formed on Hoseok's lips as he stood near the staircase railing, scanning the crowd below. His focus, however, was on the grumpy Jungkook beside him.

It was surprising to Hoseok that every time he visited the Royale Mansion, he heard gossip about a woman named Yana. The rumors painted her as a promiscuous and possessive woman who was involved with two men at once. Despite the negative talk, Hoseok felt a strong desire to meet this woman whom everyone was talking about. Even though he had seen her before, she always ignored him, which bothered him deeply. She was the first woman to disregard him, despite his fame and allure that captivated women worldwide.

Jungkook sighed in annoyance and continued to sip his expensive wine, ignoring Hoseok's teasing remarks.

"Where's Nara? Why weren't you with her? Got bored, huh?" Hoseok's teasing tone made Jungkook frown in annoyance and let out a scoff.

"I'm just not in the mood, hyung. Stop it," Jungkook replied, trying to brush off the topic.

Hoseok chuckled and scanned the crowd below before his gaze landed on Nara, who happened to be looking their way, causing him to smirk. "Well, it seems like your woman really wants your attention."

Jungkook quickly clarified, "She's not my woman."

Hoseok turned to face Jungkook, a hint of concern crossing his face briefly before he reverted back to his carefree expression that charmed everyone around him. "That's new... I always thought she was, especially since you seem to defend her more than anyone else, especially to 'her' who was always there by your side."

Hoseok's words hit a nerve, causing Jungkook to stiffen in his seat, lost in his thoughts, and ignored what he had said and got quite in his seat, ignoring further conversations with the older.

"What were you two talking about?"

Just then,a new voice entered, making the two man snap their heads in its direction to see, Taehyung with his usual blank expression who seems to be always masking his true emotions, as he observed the interaction between Jungkook and Hoseok with his deep, calculating brown eyes.

It's fascinating how despite his intimidating demeanor, every woman seems to be drawn to him. With his sharp looks, intimidating personality, and billionaire status at a young age, he could easily be a character straight out of a fiction book - the ultimate dream man.

"Oh, here you are. We were just talking about that woman," Hoseok chimed in, drawing Taehyung's attention.

Taehyung's expression briefly soured at the mention of the woman who had been occupying his thoughts lately, driving him to distraction.

"And who was 'that' woman?" Taehyung probed as he joined Jungkook, poured himself a glass of wine, and settled in, waiting for an answer.

Hoseok, with a mischievous grin, leaned against the railing before responding, "Yana," teasingly. His grin widened as he anticipated Taehyung's reaction, which was evident as Taehyung tensed and averted his gaze.

"Where's that woman though? Didn't see her at the party, especially since it was Jungkookie's birthday," Hoseok teased, earning glares from the two men, knowing he hit a nerve.

"Shut it, hyung," Jungkook warned in a deep voice, but Hoseok simply chuckled before spotting a woman in a red dress in the corner, a smirk playing on his lips as he excused himself, "Well, gotta go. Have a woman to take care of, folks."

...

Fae had lost track of time, curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, sobbing in distress. She had been locked in the room for hours, feeling abandoned and forgotten.

Those two were the worst!

I hate them!

"M-mom!"

Fae cried out softly, burying her face in her hands, overwhelmed with emotion. However, her cries halted abruptly when she heard footsteps approaching her room.

"Wha—help! Please open the door!" Fae shouted in panic, her heart racing.

She heard the footsteps stops and then the doorknob began to shake as someone attempted to open it.

"Yana?! Is that you?"

Namjoon?

"Yes! Please help me, Namjoon!"

"Oh God! Who locked you up here?!"

Namjoon's distressed voice reached Fae's ears as he tried to unlock the door.

"Wait, I'll call a maid to open it, okay?" Namjoon assured her, sensing her panic. He sprinted down the hallway, urgently seeking out a maid with a spare key to unlock the door to the room where Yana was trapped.

As Namjoon made his way to the room where Yana was locked up, he couldn't help but sigh in distress, wondering what had transpired and who could have done such a cruel thing.

Finally, the maid arrived with two guards and swiftly unlocked the door. Namjoon entered the room quickly, his heart breaking at the sight of the woman weeping on the floor. As she looked up, she rushed into his arms, seeking comfort. Namjoon's anger simmered beneath the surface as he tried to contain his emotions, focusing on calming the distraught woman in his embrace. Moved by her sorrow, the maid and guards quietly left the room, allowing them privacy.

...

"Young master," a guard greeted Jungkook, bowing respectfully before whispering something that ignited a fire within Jungkook. He stood up abruptly and stormed off, his fury evident in his hurried steps, leaving Taehyung puzzled. Taehyung stands up and followed silently, curious about what made his cousin this mad.

"That despicable woman, how dare she!" Jungkook muttered to himself, his pace quickening to a jog as he stormed down the hallway in a fit of rage.

Oh he will really thought that woman a lesson.

As Jungkook turn left in the corridor to the room where he Locked her down, he suddenly stopped in his track when he saw the door opened. His eyes darkened.

"What's wrong?"

Taehyung's deep voice heard next to him as Taehyung's eyes too followed Jungkook's,and see the opened door in the hallway.

He raised his eyebrows in confusion and looks back at his cousin who again walks faster towards the room,he didn't move first but then a scream was heard both men and a woman's,and it's really familiar to him, especially the woman's voice as he suddenly runs to the door to see the scene that was happening.

He's cousin on top of the tutor of his brother,Namjoon beating him to a pulp as he delivers continues punches fast that the man under him can't even move.

"Stop!please get off him!"

He turned his eyes slowly towards the woman who was thrown on the floor who had probably twisted her foot as she grips it in her hands while crying in pain as she shouted towards Jungkook to stop.

At first he didn't move and just watch the scene unfolding before his eyes, before striding out to the two mans who were beating up each other on the floor and separated his cousin while he signaled the bodyguards to get Namjoon off the floor who was now bloody and was half unconscious.

"You fucker! Don't you ever dare to step foot here again!!"Jungkook yelled furiously with murderous eyes glaring at the man.

Aware of Jungkook's simmering rage and the potential danger he posed, Taehyung realized the severity of the situation. Despite his cousin's seething anger, Taehyung knew the depths of Jungkook's restraint, acknowledging the dangerous path that could have been taken if not for his intervention.

As the maids and bodyguards arrived at Taehyung's request, Namjoon, now unconscious from the powerful blows delivered by Jungkook, was attended to. Jungkook's history as a trained underground boxer, known as "the killer," spoke volumes of his formidable skills. In the ring, there was no room for mercy, and Jungkook's opponents knew the consequences of challenging him. The aftermath of his wrath was testament to his prowess in combat and the repercussions of crossing him within the confines of the ring.

One of the maids attempted to assist the woman who remained silent, her gaze fixed downward. When Taehyung raised his hand to halt the maid, he approached the trembling man himself, noticing the woman shift back slightly.

With a decisive motion, Taehyung lifted the woman into his arms, noting her quiet demeanor and the unspoken pain that weighed heavily upon her. Carrying her through the hallways, he made his way to his room, signaling his men to transport the injured man to a hospital away from the mansion, cognizant of the looming threat posed by his enraged cousin.

.....

"When will you listen,huh?"

Taehyung whispered to the silent woman on his bed, noting her distant gaze and deep in thought expression. Despite her ignoring him, he remained unperturbed, understanding her pain and the turmoil within her.

"I've called the doctor; he'll be here soon," Taehyung assured her, sitting beside her and emmidiately she distanced herself,at this he grows annoyed and grips both her arms tightly that made Fae cried in pain and started pushing him off her.

"Didn't I told you to stop whoring around?!"

In a stern and intimidating tone, Taehyung questioned her actions, accusing her of behavior he found unacceptable.

"What's wrong with you?! Isn't this what you want,for me to leave you alone?!"

Fae, bewildered and frustrated, questioned his sudden aggression, struggling to comprehend his tumultuous dynamic.

She suddenly screamed, startled when Taehyung pinned her in the bed and climbed on top of her.

"There's nothing wrong with me,but what's really wrong is you whoring around!"

Fae closed her eyes in fear when Taehyung shouted violently at her and his face closed to her that made her turn her head to the side.

"P-please stop!Get off me!"

She started pushing him but in no vain as Taehyung only chuckled at her weak state under him but his eyes suddenly stops at her lips who was trembling along with her crying and hairs sprawled under her on the bed that made her a crying mess under him.

A beautiful mess.

Taehyung thought in his head.

And then suddenly something in him snaps at the thought to claim her, right there, right now as his eyes darkens at the thought as he can feel himself getting hotter by the second especially by the position they were in and before he can stop himself he slammed his lips on her luscious ones as Fae froze on her struggling.

#bangtan #bts #bts v #jeon jungkook #yanderetae #taehyung yandere #dark romance #dark Taehyung #dark jungkook #yandere Jungkook #Lovesick #kim namjoon #bts hoseok #inkbound #princessviana #darkstory #violence #blood #domxsub

45 notes · View notes