#both needing you to either have a gun and decide to use it or have a high enough brotherhood level for daniel to do nothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etfrin · 11 months ago

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964

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strwberri-milk · 2 months ago

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Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader

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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 months ago

Text

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.”

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart.

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.”

“Wait for the potential of us?”

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.”

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.”

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face.

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....”

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…”

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved.

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough.

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.”

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home.

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..”

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him.

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty.

And it stuck.

Now? It stung.

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms.

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...”

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face.

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time.

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you.

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it.

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you.

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years.

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job.

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off.

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years.

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone.

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.”

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. .

Spencer just stared at the photo.

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours. I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call.

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.”

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything.

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?”

“What?”

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.”

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?”

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now.

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life.

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter.

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely.

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit.

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night.

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car.

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face.

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.”

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort.

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?”

The three of you moved inside.

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like.

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you.

“What do you know about Cat Adams?”

That bitch.

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.”

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.”

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was.

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.”

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips.

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too.

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file.

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh.

“What is the last thing you know about her?”

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later.

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces.

“What? What happened?”

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?”

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–”

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.”

Both of them went silent.

“So is he out?”

They nodded slowly, silently.

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing.

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.”

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down.

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you.

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?”

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.”

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her.

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile.

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind.

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed.

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room.

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.”

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.”

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.”

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer.

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid.

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture.

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?”

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.”

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it.

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest.

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong.

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter.

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?”

“She took your father and sister.”

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.”

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear.

“So why is she here?” You whispered back.

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.”

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation.

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet.

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent.

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable.

“Don’t even start.”

He shrugged and stayed silent.

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.”

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone.

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch.

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch.

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.”

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.”

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.”

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?”

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office.

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily.

Emily sighed in agreement.

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.”

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.”

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ.

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.”

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open.

And there he was.

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years.

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams.

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship.

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours.

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit.

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine.

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger.

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?”

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face.

Remember what Prentiss had said to you.

“You know why I’m here.”

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them.

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back.

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off.

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?”

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser.

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue.

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.”

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense.

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face.

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before.

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.”

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.”

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud.

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?”

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.”

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?”

“No.” you just looked down at your hands.

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.”

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?”

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.”

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her. “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch.

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed.

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?”

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine.

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.”

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.”

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head.

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.”

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where.

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you.

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you.

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?”

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.”

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?”

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.”

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.”

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?”

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”.

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?”

“Last year.”

“Was he good in bed?”

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.”

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow.

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?”

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?”

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send.

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.”

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.”

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” .

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.”

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.”

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.”

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer.

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.”

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up.

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?”

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.”

“Would you have written me back?”

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer.

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison.

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke. “We need to debrief.”

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in.

“Spencer, are you okay?”

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug.

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound.

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached.

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away.

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other.

“I should explain all of this.”

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.”

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.”

He just nodded, staring at you really.

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back.

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.”

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find.

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.”

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face.

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger.

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.”

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.”

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…”

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation.

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…”

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was.

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.”

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better.

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago.

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him.

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you.

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.

It was Spencer who spoke first.

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—”

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did.

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered.

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different.

It’s not the way it used to be.

“I need to go Spencer.”

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure.

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head.

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.”

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.”

“Y/n please.”

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.”

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out.

You didn’t.

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you.

But it had to end.

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you.

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car.

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces.

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you.

The doors shut.

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage.

Your heart was aching, burning.

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time.

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 4 months ago

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Enemies to Lovers (Wolverine)

Description: Enemies to Lovers with Wolverine and Y/N

Author’s note: I had a request for hate sex (which I can still do) but decided to do this for now.

Wade smirked as Y/N walked out in her new outfit that the TVA gave her. She looked really sexy. “Hey beautiful. Don’t you look like you’re ready to get fucked.”

Y/N gave him a weird look but shrugged it off as Paradox began to tell them that their universe was about to die off. Oh Hell No!

Wade and her did not like that but when Y/N found out that Logan of all people was the reason why…she was livid.

The second they find him she punches him in the face. He chuckled and stood up getting ready to face the person that did that. Only to be faced with Y/N.

He looked down at her, amused by her, “No wonder that punch didn’t hurt so bad.” She went to punch him again but harder. Wade had stopped her before she could.

“We need him Y/N/N. I sense in the near future you may be under him and not in a fighting way.” He teases. This Logan was a drunk and let down his universe. Y/N wasn’t taking that.

“Look asshole, you’re coming with us to fix this. Because you’re the reason that it’s happening.” She yelled at him before Wade held the gun to his head.

He was not taking them seriously at all. He laughed and drank himself to sleep. Y/N gasped as his body hit the ground. “Well this one will do.” Wade said.

Y/N secretly did a double take at him in the “comic accurate” suit as Wade put it. He did look good but she still hated him.

She rolled her eyes as Paradox made both of them disappear. “Let’s go.” She said and before she fought Paradox he made her disappear too.

She ran up to the boys as they were fighting. “Hey.” She kept yelling but they kept fighting.

She watched and almost came as Logan ran on all fours towards Wade. She stared at him for a good 5 seconds after.

She snapped out of it and attacked him to the ground. “No time for games, Wolvy.” She said and held her knife up to his throat.

He would never admit it but he found that super hot. She was super hot but yet she was an asshole.

When Johnny showed up and started flirting with Y/N. Logan felt a little jealous but he shouldn’t. She laughed at every joke he said while they were tied up together.

Wade watched as Logan rolled his eyes at the two and instantly knew that he was jealous. “Awww is Wolvy jealous?” He asked, teasing him.

“Of what?” He asked, annoyed. “Of fire dick flirting with your girl.” Y/N was not his girl. But before he could deny what Wade said, Johnny started talking to all of them about Nova.

Y/N had never met anyone in the X-men so she never knew Charles or that he had a sister. Wade and Logan didn’t know either.

“Oh your thoughts were naughty naughty earlier Y/N.” She said to her with a wink. Wade was hella curious but Logan couldn’t give two fucks, thinking it was about Johnny.

When Nova killed Johnny, Y/N glared at Wade. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She asked him. “You just got him killed!.” Wade was shocked that they were on the same page.

“Wade, you’re a dick! I can’t believe you did that!” She yelled at Wade after he got Johnny killed. “Boo hoo he got your little boyfriend killed.” Y/N glared at him but Wade had to stop them before they fought.

Nicepool also made an enemy out of Logan after he saw him briefly check her out and drop the biggest bomb ever: “You look just like my wife who just had a baby.”

Y/N was his wife…well a different Y/N. Wade was shocked by the news as was Logan. “So Y/N you’re married to me in a different universe?” Wade was kind of excited.

Y/N shrugged and walked past them. Logan wasn’t thrilled by the news but why did he care so much? Y/N wasn’t even thrilled by the news.

The Honda Odyssey where fights and almost fucking happened.

After Logan’s speech to Wade Y/N did one too but for Logan, “I know you’re not talking Mr. I fucked up in all my universes. Maybe we should have let you drank yourself to death because it’s clear that you aren’t any help anywhere.”

Ouch that was harsh

“He lied to me. Oh I’m sorry you guys lied to me.” He yelled back, kinda hurt by her words.

“You’re the reason that our universe is going dickhead! It seems like you’re useless in every universe.”

“Yeah well in my universe you were a whore on the street.”

Y/N chuckled at that and thus began the fighting. Y/N wanted this no good loser dead but unfortunately that couldn’t happen.

Waking up to Logan drinking and Wade cuddling her was not what she had in mind. “Thor.” Wade yelled as he woke up. “What the fuck?” Y/N said as she sat up.

Gambit was another problem for Logan as he also was flirting with Y/N. “Just like in my universe.” Logan groaned as he watched as Y/N flirted with the card guy.

“That girl in there. Do you actually hate her?” Laura asked him. He shrugged, “No but she hates me and it seems like she does in every universe.”

Y/N and him never got along in his universe and she was still the same here. But they would have to work together to put an end to this.

A team they made and it was pretty good. Both of them along with the others took down most of the people and Nova…almost

“What do you mean don’t kill her?” Y/N yelled at him but unlike her Logan knew Charles and this wasn’t what he would want.

When Nova let him go back to their universe Y/N fell right on Logan. They both groaned and looked at each other. It was almost like the world had stopped before Wade interrupted, “Listen guys you can fuck later. We have a universe to save.”

Seeing Nicepool again was not a good thing especially when the other deadpools arrived. “Ewww Wade they’re so many of you.” Y/N said and that made Logan laugh. At least they could agree on something.

The Mask? Oh Y/N felt the hate leave her body while he wore it. It was very sexy and he smirked at her before they fought the pools.

Once it was over they sighed but unfortunately it wasn’t over and they all got back up. “So only Nicepool could die?” She asked in shock as the others were alive again.

Peter Pool saved the day and they escaped to Paradox. Y/N felt herself get sick at the thought of losing herself or Wade for this universe. She almost wanted to push for it to be Logan.

But she cared about him too and also hated that idea. “It has to be toots.” Wade looked at her and held her hands. “Wade, No you can’t.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“It needs to be me.” Logan said not expecting her to disagree. “It can’t be either of you.” She said which surprised him. “Well it certainly won’t be you.” Wade told her.

“Why can’t it?” But before he could respond Logan did, “Look I know you hate me and want me dead but I regret us hating each other in my universe. I want you to be happy in this one.” Right there in that moment she fell in love.

Sobbing at the fact that she would lose one of them until they came out alive and oh boy did she let her jaw drop at Logan’s abs.

“Like what ya see sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and she didn’t deny it. “Put on a shirt you slut.” Y/N took the shirt from Wade and shook her head.

Logan chuckled at that and took the shirt from her hands, “You’ll see more of it later sweetheart.” He told her and Wade looked surprised.

“Oh so now we have enemies to lovers in these films.” Wade said and they looked confused.

“What?”

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine xmen #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #deadpool #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu

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biteyoubiteme · 4 months ago

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movie date

fem!reader x choi yeonjun x huening kai

synopsis: you're too scared to go to bed after you watch a scary movie with your boyfriends.

warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, threesome, praise, slight nipple play, fingering, oral (m!rec), multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstim (m&f!rec), breeding kink, size kink if you squint, unprotected sex, one bite, creampie, use of the names baby, pretty girl, she/her, aftercare, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.7k kinda got carried away oops

an: hope i did this anon justice <33 I currently have a fever of 101 so this was quite literally a fever dream lmao someone take the laptop away from me. not proofread sorry! feedback appreciated :)) [m.list] check out all my other yeonkai fics! busy signal, fit check, wake up call

you really did think you could make it through the movie without jumping once. It was only ten minutes in and your fingers were practically glued to your eyes, only half the screen visible.

When kai had asked you if you would be scared later you told him no so confidently. yeonjuns chin on your shoulder, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other reaching out past you for the movie you held. “I don’t know…” huening hummed picking up another dvd from the family-friendly section. “maybe we need to buy this one so you fall asleep to something comforting,”

“I promise I won’t be scared,” you say, taking the horror movie from Yeonjun. “it doesn’t even look that bad, right jjunie?”

“I’ll be awake either way you know I can’t take the jump scares,” he gives you a light kiss on your jaw before pulling away to reach out for the movie Kai held. “we should take it just in case,”

“We won’t need it,” you say, placing the horror movie into the basket Kai held. “I’m sure I’ll sleep like a rock even before the movie is over,”

but even with Kai’s little grin turned on for you he knew to be skeptical when you and yeonjun thought it a good idea to put on anything scary. He never said no to the movies because by the end of the night, you would be curled up next to him holding onto his shirt with a death grip. You would bury your face into his arm, wedging yourself behind his shoulder on the couch, asking when the scene was over so you could look.

It was cute to watch you, Kai spent most of the time giggling at your reactions, kissing away your fear. Yeonjun liked to jump the gun on being scared flinching before the scary part happened making you extra jumpy and sensitive to the feel of anything brushing against you. It would make you tighten your hold on Kai lightly kicking Yeonjun to tell him to stop, “you make it so much scarier when you do that! I never know when to close my eyes,”

“I can’t help it! The door creaking freaked me out,” both of you let out a scream when the killer jumped up on the screen.

Kai knew this was exactly how the night would go and for a few days, you would be clinging to him in bed and following him around the apartment when it started to get dark.

“So we don’t need a fun movie?”

“The scary movie is fun enough,” you shrug as Kai leans down to plant a kiss on your nose.

“Okay I warned you,” Kai says as you both move to catch up with Yeonjun.

The three of you are trying to decide what popcorn to pick. You and Yeonjun always need Kai to come in to make the final decision on anything. Kai never knew who to say yes to, wanting to please his hyung and his girlfriend he always suggested to pick both. “butter or kettle? pick kai,”

“umm,” you and Yeonjun giving pointed looks to pick the ‘right’ answer.

“Huening,” yeonjun warns, holding out his option in front of him.

You drop your shoulder giving a fake pout, “Yeah I guess yeonjuns is better,” and the act is already working, the basket in Kai’s hand already leaning towards you.

Yeonjun hooks his arm around your shoulders pulling you into him, “don’t fall for it, stay strong kai,”

“No really I’ll put mine back,” you say with no intention to follow through, your puppy dog eyes in full use on Kai. “it’s okay hyuka you don’t have to pick,”

“Let's get both, sweet and salty,” he caves, your smile his favorite treat.

“she’s a little devil you know that,” Yeonjun says pressing a kiss to your temple, “and you always give in,”

Kai shrugs, “She is so cute, how do you not give her everything she wants?”

“easy, just think about how hot she is begging,” you roll your eyes pulling yourself out of his hold.

“I’ll remember that one when you want anything,”

“Baby,” he whines as the three of you make your way to check out.

When in public Yeonjun was always more touchy, if you weren’t by his side he was looking for you to lean on or kiss. It was never more than a few light brushes of his lips. Most of the time people assumed the two of you to be the couple with Kai being a third wheel. Only Kai wasn’t into pda besides holding your hand and the rare kiss. And when riding in the car Yeonjun always drives with you in the passenger seat. Kai napping in the back or laughing at the two of you arguing in the front over directions. Kai holding the door open for you when getting out.

It was your favorite type of night with the three of you in the kitchen. It was a little chaotic with the space being so packed and Yeonjun is usually moved to cleaning duty or playlist handling because of how clumsy he is. huening always being given the ‘kiss the cook’ apron you bought on a whim, the fit making his shoulders look so broad.

The three of you wedged on the couch with your popcorn after dinner. The one bowl mixed with the two flavors sitting in your lap both the boys reaching over whenever they wanted some. Only now the bowl has been totally forgotten in front of you and you’re hiding your face from the screen.

“Are you scared?” Kai asks, his laugh caught on the end of the question.

“no,” you say, shaking your head but you’re not even trying to move your hand from your face.

“I am,” Yeonjun mumbles, face pressed into your shoulder. the loud slash of a knife comes from the screen and while Kai is as still as stone Yeonjun and you are jumping out of your skin. “no no no no!” Yeonjun says to the screen before he jerks back and hides against your shoulder again.

“Tell me when I can look huening. I don't know if I can take anymore,” you say, wrapping your arm around his to hold against your chest.

“it only just started,” he laughs his hand between your thighs, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“it’s morning in the movie i think you can look now,” yeonjun says picking up the popcorn bucket from the coffee table. But for the rest of the movie you spend only seeing parts of the screen. When it’s over and the lights are on you’re fully regretting having put the comfort movie back on the shelf.

“who’s idea was it to watch something so scary?” you ask knowing damn well it was your idea.

“Is someone regretting their decision?” yeonjun asks, picking up bits of popcorn from the couch, at one point the bowl tipped sideways after a particularly scary bit.

“You were complicit in that decision, it's not only my fault, right hyuka?” you’re still holding Kai in place not wanting to get up from a safe spot.

“Nothing is ever your fault,” Kai smiles, peppering kisses on your cheek.

“don’t lie to her huening, as I recall it was with her suggestion that we went out on Sunday and none of us made it to our Monday classes on time,”

“yeah that was kinda a bad idea,” Kai agrees, “my perfect attendance record is all messed up now,”

“you still showed up and we had a good night, win-win,”

“come on let's get to bed or we might ruin huenings perfect attendance more than it already is,”

but when you look down the dark hallway it is the last thing you want to trek down after what you just watched. “I mean one more movie won't hurt,”

“So we should have listened to me when I said to get the extra happy movie,” Kai moves his arm from your hold only to throw it behind you on the couch. Yeonjun lays back down next to you leaning against the armrest, the grey sweatpants he wears low on his hips.

“just one more I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep,”

“You know I do know something I could watch right about now,” Yeonjun tucks his arms behind his head. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings, still coiled from the movie so when Kai leans down to kiss your neck you feel it spread throughout your spine.

“Now that’s a good idea,” Kai mumbles against your skin, “and I’m sure you will be worn out enough after to fall asleep without any problem,”

“Are you using my fear as a way to get off?”

“well…” Kai starts but Yeonjun nods stating, “Kinda,”

“I think it just might work,” you say, moving around so that you straddle Kai, your arms slinking around his shoulders. He cups your waist in both hands with an easy grin on his lips.

Kissing Kai was always your favorite thing to do, he always started off so gently. Testing the waters as he gave you soft pecks, building up momentum as he found his footing before he was all over you. Kissing down your jaw, hands sliding up under the back of your shirt trying to pull you closer to him. and he was always hard after a few kisses, grinding on him making him vocal. Eyes closed and his brows creased, whining about you breaking away to pull your shirt off.

“Do you remember your first kiss?” Yeonjun asks getting comfortable, you turn to look at him, Kai sucking hickeys down your neck while you grind on him.

Every once in a while Yeonjun loved to bring up how the three of you got together. When everything was new and you three had no idea what you were doing. How he had been the one to suggest you get together after years of friendship, how one simple kiss ended with the three of you living together in the best relationship.

“not so easy to forget,” Kai kisses down your chest before sucking your nipple into his mouth, your back arching into him.

It hadn't been much different than this night when you asked if either of them had ever kissed someone before. Shyly wondering if you were falling behind, Yeonjun confessed that he had in fact kissed someone shrugging like it was nothing and saying it wasn't too exciting. ‘have you?’

‘no,'' you admitted even if it felt like with anyone else in the room they would make fun of you. ‘neither have I,’ Kai piped up blushing from ear to ear.

‘Maybe you two should just get it over with now. Be each other’s first,’ and you had listened to the suggestion. Kai and you leaning in and giving the softest kiss imaginable. ‘no not like that, like this,” and without much thought, you were making out with Yeonjun before he pulled away and pushed you back to huening, ‘your turn,’ the make out with Kai leading to the three of you finding any excuse to repeat the night.

“Now look at you, our needy girl putting on my favorite show,” you loved having his eyes on you, watching every little reaction you had to kai, eating up every sound, craving the sight of you falling apart. And it wasn't only Yeonjun who looked at you like that, Kai's hands slipped back to your waist guiding your hips to rock back and forth on him, your hands twisted in his hair as he looked at you like he belonged to you, like you set the stars in the sky.

Kai slipped off his shirt and you still had your shorts on and needed to take them off before they drove you insane. But Kai wasn't letting you up anytime soon, he pushed one hand into your waistband slipping right past your underwear to rub circles on your clit, moaning at the feel of you. “You're already so wet,” he whispers, exploring your folds. You rock your hips into his hand, his smile spreading as he slips two fingers into your entrance letting you fuck his hand, clit pressed onto the heel of his palm. His fingers are so long that they brush your g-spot with no problem and every time he does you stutter in your grinding. Arm wrapping around his shoulders pressing his face into your chest, “I'm gonna cum,” you whine feeling your orgasm build.

“Maybe you should stop huening,” Yeonjun shrugs, knowing it's the last thing Kai would do when he had you this close. He just loved the way you responded, that drawn out, “noo jjunie please,” your hips picking their pace, your hold on kai tightening before you were trembling over the edge, cumming on the edge of a cry. huening gave a few slow pumps of his fingers before completely removing them to place in his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

You were already getting tired and standing up on shaking legs it was evident. But Kai tugged down your shorts and underwear for you before pulling you back to the couch. On your knees leaning over Yeonjun, he adjusted himself to sit up more, the bulge in his sweatpants clearly evident. “hi pretty,” he placed a kiss on your temple as Kai kneeled behind you.

Kai was wasting no time, the head of his cock brushing over your entrance making you shudder. when he pushed in the tip the both of you moaned, his slow entrance making you push back against him to try and get any more that he had to offer but he kept you back with his hand on your hip, “Wait baby I don't want to hurt you,”

one hand holding yourself up and the other holding yeonjuns you squeeze his fingers to try and keep yourself still. “I can take it hyuka,” you whine and Kai gives you small pecks on your back, edging in, “I know you can, you always take me so well,”

you can feel the stretch in taking Kai but it doesn't stop you from trying to push back again, kai’s throaty moan is loud when your ass is pressed flush with his pelvis.

Yeonjun gives a soft chuckle brushing your cheek with his thumb, “So impatient,”

Kai wraps one arm around your waist leaning over you and wraps the other around your chest using his hold to slowly pull back out before sinking back in. He barely pulls out again, “god you're sucking me right back in,” he moans trying to pick up his pace. You can feel his tip kissing your womb, every achingly slow drag of his cock brushing right where you need him. “How did I get so lucky, hum? My perfect girl taking me so good, so warm and wet for me,” you preen at the praise arching your back and feeling him slip deeper if it were even possible with how close the two of you are.

You're a whimpering mess when Yeonjun says, “Why don't you suck me off and get me all prepped and ready before I fuck you, okay?” his free hand pushes down his sweatpants to pull out his straining cock. Your mouth waters at the sight, face already close enough to kiss the tip. The warmth of your mouth makes yeonjuns hips jerk, hand wrapped around the base to keep himself in place. Every thrust from Kai makes your head bob forward sending Yeonjun deeper into your mouth. Your moans around him send chills up his spine as you lick up his pre-cum. An extra hard trust sends Yeonjun to the back of your throat and he has to pull out before he cums, not wanting to waste a single drop when he could pump you full of it.

“hyuka,” you cry knowing you're close but needing some kind of stimulation to push you over again.

“Tell me you want my cum,” Kai can hardly get the words out, “tell me,” he begs, punishing his cock into you.

“I want it, please, please,” and Kai pulls you up to sit you fully on his cock, stilling before you feel him twitching, hand pressed to your pelvis as he fills you with his cum. Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder before you jerk forward at the feel of fingers rubbing at your clit.

You give a shout as Yeonjun works your clit, leaning over to help you. Kais still throbbing inside you as you cum, pussy fluttering and overstimulating him, you would have fallen forward if Kai hadn't been holding you in place on him, his tip pressed onto your gummy spot making you cry out.

“Thank you,” you say trying to catch your breath when Yeonjun moves his hand away from you, but you don't know if you're thanking him for starting or stopping.

Kai slowly lays you down on the now empty couch, your hands cupping your breast so that your sensitive nipples don't rub against the fabric, cheek presses into the seat as you feel the gush of cum leave your heat, your thighs slick with it. If this was supposed to wear you out they had succeeded but Yeonjun hadn't had his turn and he wouldn't stop until he came at least once.

Yeonjun climbs up behind you leaning down to bite the side of your ass before he pulls away rubbing his thumb over the spot, admiring your body laid out before him. So easily compliant to his needs after Kai had his way with you, it was why he never cared if he had you first or not, watching was just as fun as fucking, and watching you twitch with overstimulation was his favorite. So he slipped his hand down between your folds spreading all the fluids through your folds brushing over your clit watching the way you trembled for him. He pushed your knees apart, angling your hips slightly up so that he could have access to you.

He was painfully hard as he slipped his tip along your swollen lips, no time for teasing anymore as he sank in. Yeonjun leaned his weight on you, wrapping his arms under you to grab your wrists, lips pressed to your temple as he gave slow, shallow thrusts. So warm and slick to slide in and out of he was a mess, every moan rumbling against your back and into your ear. “my pretty girl is always doing so good for us, hum? When I cum will you be good and keep it all in?”

You're at a loss for words, nodding along to everything he says, his body keeping your shakes to a minimum as he hits your g-spot, whimpering on a loop. “if you don't ill have to fuck you all over again. How many orgasms until you're so overstimulated I only have to blow on your clit to make you cum?” just the thought has you squeezing him, your gummy walls begging to be coated. “my pretty girl likes that idea huh? oh fuck I'm gonna-“ his fingers intertwining with yours, hips jerking his thrusts slowing until he completely stills inside you, moaning into your hair. The warmth of his cum is enough to make you climax right after him, wanting to pull away from the overstimulation but trapped under Yeonjun and left to feel it all. You're completely shaking under him as he gives you soft kisses on your cheek, making sure not to move so that you can have some time to whine down.

You are finding it hard to keep your eyes open when Kai leans down in front of you two, pushing stray strands of hair from your brow. “I got the bed all ready for you when you’re up for it,” he had already put on his pjs, a few damp cloths in his hands ready for clean up. “I even made sure all the lights are on so you won't get scared,”

“thank you hyuka,” you smile, Yeonjun finally pulling away, a soft whimper leaving your lips when he pulls out. Yeonjun takes one of the cloths from Kai, cleaning you up as gently as possible before you roll over so that he can get everything. You're not sure your legs are ready to walk just yet but Kai hands off the rest of the cloths to Yeonjun to finish cleaning himself and putting his sweats back on before grabbing his discarded shirt off the back of the couch to pull on over your head. Kai had gotten you a clean pair of panties to slide on, helping you before giving your knee a kiss.

Yeonjun leans over to plant a kiss on the top of your head, “Let's go finish up in the bathroom and head off to bed before all three of us are late again tomorrow morning,”

your knees feel a little weak as you stand but not too bad, both boys watching to make sure you're okay. “I'm fine,” you stand on your toes to give each of them a kiss on the cheek but your thighs are trembling, “neither of you fucked me hard enough to do much,” you playfully joke.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes raising his hand, “A challenge or a dis?” you move away from him giggling as you hide behind huening knowing if you got anywhere near Yeonjun he would slap you on the ass.

“Both?”

“oh okay so now you're playing with fire,” Yeonjun lunges forward ready to follow you all around the apartment if need be.

“Kai please protect me,” you say moving him in the way but he just wraps his arms around you holding you in place, you squirm as he kisses down the trail of hickeys he left behind earlier. “oh no you're not getting away with that one,” he passes you to Yeonjun who holds you in his arms giving you a playful scowl.

“I'm going to make you regret saying that,” he dips his nose down to yours before kissing you, you should have expected the slap on the ass as soon as you were distracted but you yelp anyways.

“I love you,” you say, pulling away from him before reaching back out for Kai, “and I love you. but I'd like to see either of you try,” and you take off down the hall to the bedroom, both of them following after you, laughing the whole way there.

#kpop smut #huening kai x reader #txt huening kai #huening kai #txt huening kai smut #hueningkai #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt #beomgyu #soobin #taehyun #yeonkai x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 4 months ago

Note

Toji as a bodyguard

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)

Part Two Part Three Part Four

Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.

One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.

But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.

It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.

That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”

You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.

“W-What—?”

“No, never!”

“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”

Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.

If you could even call him a man.

A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.

“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”

“E-Everywhere?”

“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.

Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?

“Right, thank you.”

“You’re welcome--”

“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”

“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.

“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”

Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.

Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.

Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”

“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”

“A sign? Like a signal?”

“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”

You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.

“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.

“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”

“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”

“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”

Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.

There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.

“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”

“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”

The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.

“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”

“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”

Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.

But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.

Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.

After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.

After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.

“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”

Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.

“Did you make sure to tag the—“

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”

Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!

“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”

“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”

You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.

Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.

The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.

Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.

If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.

Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.

These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?

You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.

You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.

You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.

“Ijichi! Hi!”

“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”

Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.

“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”

“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”

No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.

“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.

“Huh?”

His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”

“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”

“I don't eit—”

Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.

“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”

“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”

This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!

You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.

“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”

“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”

Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.

“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”

Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.

“And another thi—”

The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.

“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”

Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.

This was fucking serious.

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

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cornerstoreclown · 1 month ago

Note

Mornings with Art? I think it’s a cute scene to imagine Art eating while reader comes in (all sleepy and groggy and out of it cause they just woke up), wordlessly kisses him on the cheek, and makes her breakfast

Writing this before bed. So if there’s errors, I’ll get ‘em tomorrow. For now here’s some domestic shit. I did add dialogue though, I hope that’s okay! I was trying to think of how to go about it without words but then I just went wherever my head led me.

F!Reader x Art

———————————

Ever since he’d come home one particularly bad night due to a victim that just so happened to be carrying a firearm, he’d been taking it easy on himself. A few bullet wounds here and there, which you helped him patch up with the standard bandages and gauze, but for the most part he took his injuries in stride, opting to lay low and keep indoors for however long he decided. Dying was hard when you were a supernatural force, which you knew he very well was. You let him borrow the spare room to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos he wanted to create for his next escapade–for whatever that might actually entail.

As long as you’re not at the end of his knife, gun, mace–whatever weapon he decides to use, you’re fine with it. Though you know one day you might end up with one of those weapons lodged in your back or in your skull, you pray that it never happens. The first mistake would be to get comfortable around this man and let your guard down, which you never did.

However, it’s moments like this, when he’s sitting at the kitchen table when you head downstairs for breakfast that really make you want to do otherwise. Especially right now.

Art was sitting right at the kitchen table, eating frozen pizza from last nights dinner, and he’s doing it rather politely, you note. One slice on a paper plate, napkin nearby, and another slice being daintily held with both hands as he quietly and gently chews each bite he takes.

You have to remind yourself he killed someone last month and ate a rat last week. But it doesn’t stop you from tiredly smiling as you watch him through your unkempt hair that obscures part of your vision.

He merely regards you with a look, still munching away.

Fatigue whispers in your ear and urges you back to your warm and comfy bed. But whether you’re burdened by school, work, or both, there’s no rest to be had.

“Hey,” You yawn tiredly, walking your way to the coffee machine. It was either that or tea this morning. Art was a tea kind of guy, so you put on the electric kettle for him.

He resumes eating, almost finishing his first slice. He’s now got one leg crossed over the other as he assesses you in your oversized t-shirt, munching away on the crust. He has an aura of sassiness to him this morning with that body language.

“Yeah, yeah, I look rough, I know. Not all of us are divas when we wake up,” You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “And pizza? For breakfast? Come on.”

Art just responds in kind with fluffing up his imaginary hair and then flipping it over his shoulder. Bad hair day? Couldn’t be him!

“You got any plans for today, or are you just gonna go back to crafting shit in my spare room?”

Art shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for the second pizza slice, this time ripping off parts of the cold sauced and cheesed up flatbread to pop in his mouth in a very prim manner. He’s been very into letting his whims lead his decisions as of late.

“Gotcha.” You remark, not sure where to continue the conversation immediately, but you don’t need to worry about that as your coffee has finished brewing and the electric kettle has heat up the water. You sweeten your coffee to taste, as well as Art’s tea in a timely manner. He liked his drinks sweet. Anything bitter was an immediate no. With the remaining hot water in the kettle, you use it to make yourself instant oatmeal.

You plant a kiss to his cheek which he allows as you put his drink down near him. You take your seat on the other side of the table where your oatmeal waits, coffee mug in hand, watching him eat. Silence passes between the two of you until you finally voice what you’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.

“Can you rip me off a piece?”

#art the clown #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #cornerstore musings #cornerstore asks #x reader

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [30] - Daring

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: A promising heir is a daring one.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well, mind blowing sex was an aspect of this marriage that you hadn’t expected, but you weren’t going to complain.

You tried to catch your breath as Bucky fell on his back next to you on the bed, a smirk curling his lips.

“So how many stars is that?”

“…Six stars out of five,” you said, still panting and he let out a chuckle.

“I want it in writing, princess.”

“The sex journal is all the way there,” you motioned at the other side of the room but before he could say anything, your phone started vibrating on the nightstand. You grabbed it, then let out a groan and sat up in bed, then quickly started typing back.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, his fingertips tracing over your spine making you smile before you licked your lips.

“My aunt,” you muttered and scoffed when she sent you another text. “She wants to invite us to dinner.”

“Tell her we’re busy,” Bucky said calmly and you ran a hand over your face before you sent the answer and tossed the phone back to the nightstand. You let yourself fall back on the bed, making Bucky chuckle as he propped his head up on his fist.

“What’s going on?”

“She just…” you trailed off and let out a small laugh. “You know, she thinks I should ask you to help Ian out on that meeting.”

He raised his brows. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” you said. “And she had the audacity to say Ian would help me out if I fucked up like he did.”

“He wouldn’t help you out.”

“Nope.”

“And you wouldn’t have fucked up like he did.”

You bit inside your cheek, deep in thought and Bucky nuzzled to your neck before getting on top of you again, making you giggle. He settled between your legs and looked down at you, cupping your face to caress your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What is it?” he murmured, his voice soft and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gazing up at him.

“The way she talks to me,” you muttered. “Or Ian, or my father, or your father, they—none of them take me seriously, Bucky.”

“I take you seriously.”

I nibbled on your lip, trying to decide whether to ask the question that had been on your mind for the last week but in the end, your need for assurance got the best of you;

“And this doesn’t change things?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Us having sex,” you said. “I mean granted it’s no strings attached but—”

“Marriage is a string,” Bucky added helpfully and you rolled your eyes.

“Fake marriage,” you corrected him. “But either way, I don’t want this to make you go all…”

Bucky pulled his brows together. “Hm?”

“I’ve seen how spouses are treated in this line of work,” you said. “I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”

“How are they treated?” Bucky asked with a small smirk and you raised your brows.

“Like they’re fucking porcelain dolls,” you said. “They’re kept out of the business, and you can’t pull that shit with me. I’m still your business partner.”

“I’m not going to keep you out of the business.”

“Good.”

“But I’m not going to put you in unnecessary danger—and before you start,” he added when he saw your expression. “I wasn’t going to do that before we had sex either. So technically, this doesn’t change things.”

Your frown deepened and you pulled back slightly when he leaned in to kiss you.

“Define unnecessary danger,” you demanded and he heaved a sigh.

“Can we go back to the part I was inside you—”

“Not until I’m convinced I’m not getting fucked over.”

“Fucked yes, over no—”

“Bucky,” you said, looking up at him to see the soft light shining in his blue eyes. He licked his lips, his fingers stroking over your hair.

“There’s a war going on, Charm,” he said gently. “Yes we’re going to put you on your father’s throne but in the meantime, I need you to be safe.”

You could feel the pleasant warmth in your ribcage as you traced the tattoo on his chest with your fingertips absentmindedly, and he nudged your nose with his, making you giggle before he pecked you on the lips.

“So just…don’t do that shit where you look for trouble?”

Your smile widened and you heaved an exaggerated sigh, then wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you don’t count as trouble, Barnes?”

That made him smirk as he leaned in.

“Maybe,” he admitted, brushing his lips against yours. “Almost as much as you, sweetheart.”

Sit downs were an expected part of the business, they took place every six months but this time, it was moved to an earlier time per everyone’s request. As it turned out, Ian’s fuck up was too big to wait and you had to actually hold back from bursting into a song every couple of hours, excitement making your head spin.

This evening was the first real step in undermining Ian and showing your worth to the rest of the bosses.

You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t feel a bit guilty about leaving out the second part of the plan when you talked about it with Bucky though. Right now, he only assumed you would be present in the meeting to tear Ian apart just like the rest of the bosses, and to subtly give the message of there being an alternative to the others but in your defense you still weren’t sure how okay he would be with it considering how big of a move it was and you had laid the groundwork for it years and years ago—

Fine, that was a terrible and selfish excuse, but he was going to agree with you once he saw that your plan was working.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked once the car came to a stop in front of your father’s house and you snapped out of your thoughts, then nodded your head.

“Uh huh.”

“You sure?”

“He knows I’m going to be in the meeting right?” you asked and he nodded.

“He wasn’t very happy about it,” he said. “Did he not call you?”

“Nope,” you said as the driver opened the door for you. “I can’t even decide if it’s a good sign or a bad sign.”

You stepped out of the car with Bucky following you, and you looked around the yard to see hundreds of men patrolling, jet black parked cars scattered around. Bucky touched the small of your back to gently steer you to the mansion and you both climbed the stairs, then passed through the door.

“Here you two are,” Sam approached you. “Buck, can I borrow you for a moment?”

Bucky turned to look at you as if asking for your permission and you nodded.

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, then walked away with him. You made your way to the living room where the rest of the bosses were waiting and you gave a small smile to Ryan who smiled at you back, then flung yourself on the couch.

Natasha was there with Yelena, her younger sister who was already named her heir and when her gaze fell on you, she nodded at you with a small smirk, then leaned in to whisper something into Yelena’s ear, making her raise her brows. Stark was in a deep conversation with Clint and you could only guess that Steve was wherever Sam had taken Bucky to, for a conversation before the meeting. Ian muttered something to Ryan, then clenched his teeth and came to sit beside you.

“So,” he said. “Finally you’ll be allowed into a sit down. Must be exciting.”

“I could say the same for you,” you told him. “This is going to be your first sit down as well, after all.”

“For some reason I thought Barnes was too smart for you to manipulate him through his dick, but I guess not.”

You gave him a sweet smile.

“Aw,” you cooed. “I know you’re nervous Ian, but I’m sure they’ll go easy on you.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Is that why auntie asked me to talk to Bucky?” you asked. “Running to your mommy doesn’t exactly scream confidence, you know?”

“At least I have one to run to,” Ian told you, making your eyes narrow in a glare but before you could say anything, one of your father’s men stepped into the living room.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and you stood up along with everyone, Bucky entering the room to make a beeline to you.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked him and he nodded.

“Oh yeah, nothing to worry about,” he assured you, entwining his fingers with yours. “Come on.”

You followed him to the meeting room, your heart beating in your ears. Being a part of these sit downs was one of the many things that your father had kept you away from, and considering this was the perfect opportunity, you had to make sure not to make any mistakes. Bucky pulled your seat for you and you quietly thanked him, then turned to look at your father who was sitting at the head of the table but he only gave you a disapproving glare, then leaned back as everyone else took their seats.

“Welcome everyone,” he said. “As usual, it’s a pleasure to see all of you here.”

You rested your hand against Bucky’s vibranium one and he turned his head to give you an assuring smile while everyone else around the table returned to sentiment to your father. Ian licked his lips, shifting his weight in his seat.

“We all know why every single member asked for this sit down to be moved to an earlier date,” your father said. “My heir has heard my…criticism in detail before this meeting.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the disappointment pulling at your stomach at hearing him call Ian his heir.

“But he hasn’t heard yours,” your father said. “And since he is here, no more kid gloves. Who would like to start first?”

Bucky and you had both agreed that staying away from this discussion at first was a good idea, considering your position. You couldn’t look too aggressive or pushy yet, and judging by how Steve and Sam had exchanged glances, so had they.

Everyone around this table knew who Bucky, Steve and Sam supported as your father’s heir after all.

Natasha was the first to speak.

“Well we’re all here short of a couple millions,” she said. “As a result of a raid. By the cops. Right in the middle of a war with Hydra.”

“Not a good look, Ian,” Clint said and Tony hummed.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he commented. “Do you mind walking us through that complete failure that you called a strategy first?”

“We are still looking for the person who’s responsible for the first attack,” Ian started and turned his glances to you but your expression was completely serene. “But unlike other attacks, it didn’t look like a Hydra one.”

Your stomach did a nervous flip.

“And the timing is rather strange, considering it happened right when we’re in a war with Hydra,” he said, making your father pinch the bridge of his nose. “Almost like someone is making use of the war, wouldn’t you say?”

A silence fell upon the room and Sam scoffed.

“I’m sorry, let me get this clear,” he said. “Are you actually insinuating that the attack was done by someone in this room?”

“He’s not.”

“All due respect Arthur, he can answer for himself.”

Ian looked like he was considering saying yes but then gritted his teeth.

“Could have been another gang trying to prove themselves.”

“Yes well, we’re not interested in that right now though, are we?” Steve asked. “We’re talking about the raid. What happened there?”

“After the attack, I needed to find an alternate route,” Ian said. “For the shipment. And I figured, considering the time and the place, the west side second dock made more sense.”

Yelena tilted her head.

“Is this your first time in the city?” she asked, making you bite back a smile. “Is this—has Arthur pull you out of the street on your way to a museum and give you a responsibility?”

A small smirk pulled at Natasha’s lips while Bucky chuckled.

“My sources in the law enforcement assured me—”

“Your sources in the law enforcement lied to you, you mean,” Bucky corrected him and Ian took a deep breath.

“They have been replaced.”

“Not soon enough,” Tony stated. “West side second dock has that reputation for a reason. What, you thought it was just a rumor?”

“As I said, I was misled by my sources.”

“So your sources gave you the false information and now it’s our problem,” Clint said and Steve clicked his tongue.

“You know how it will look from outside,” he said. “The other families in other cities.”

“A war with Hydra and now we can’t even control our own shipments,” Natasha said. “There are already rumors brewing, and this city cannot handle another war on top of all this shit with Hydra.”

“We will present a united front as usual—”

“Right after you pay our losses, you mean?” Clint asked him. “Because in case it has escaped your notice, that raid wasn’t just to your shipment. Ours was there as well, hence the millions of dollars.”

“And thanks to that raid, now those cops are watching the docks very closely,” Bucky said. “How are you planning on solving that?”

“The business will continue once the dust has settled.”

“And the potential losses in the meantime?” Steve asked. “Some of the cities are reconsidering their business deals with New York thanks to the shit you pulled.”

“They’re not going to stop doing business with us,” Ian said and Steve raised his brows.

“Yeah?” he asked. “So you’ve talked to them and made sure of it then?”

That made Ian fall quiet and you licked your lips.

“Which cities are reconsidering their deals?”

“I talked to Boston,” Steve told you. “They seem to be the only ones who are solid. Phoenix is having second thoughts.”

“Washington is a maybe,” Sam said and Natasha hummed.

“Houston is locked in, but Philadelphia has been looking for alternatives, I’ve heard.”

“San Diego?”

“Also a maybe.”

“Dallas?”

“I wouldn’t trust them.”

“We need something big if we want to keep those cities.”

Ian raised his brows.

“Well, as I said—”

“How about you sit this one out right now?” you cut him off. “You have fucked up the stability and the safety of this city, not to mention our deals and nothing you say offers us a solution to any of the problems you created.”

“And your solution is to whine about it?” Ian asked back and Bucky glared at him.

“Arthur, pull your heir into line before he accidentally disrespects my wife.”

“She’s here as an heir,” Ian said and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Arthur, pull your heir into line before he accidentally disrespects my heir.”

“Until your actual heir comes along,” Ian corrected him and Bucky opened his mouth but Tony beat him to it.

“That’s not what we’re here for,” he said. “The line of succession is a family matter. Does anyone have a solution for the issue at hand?”

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster but you took a deep breath.

“I do.”

Everyone around the table including Bucky turned to look at you better and Natasha raised her brows while Bucky frowned in confusion.

“You have a solution?” Natasha asked to make sure and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Which is?”

You swallowed thickly, excitement making your ears ring but you managed to smile.

“Chicago,” you said. “I can get us Chicago.”

Chapter 31

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asterias-record-shop · 2 years ago

Text

—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering

You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.

You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.

It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.

Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.

“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.

“He’s coming over here.”

You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”

Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”

You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.

Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”

He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”

You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”

He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.

Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.

That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.

“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”

“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”

King grins. “I will.”

Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”

“Uhm… can I help you?”

She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”

“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”

Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”

Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.

“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”

“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”

The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”

“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”

“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.

You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”

His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”

You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.

“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”

He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”

It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”

He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”

You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”

He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”

The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”

He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”

You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”

He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”

He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.

His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.

You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.

“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”

Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.

He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”

You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”

You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”

He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.

It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.

“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”

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lizzyk137 · 8 months ago

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The Technical Analyst and the Boy Genius: Spencer x Reader

Summary: You finally get your dream job working as a technical analyst for the BAU, but one team member isn't happy you're there. Warnings: Angst, talk of death, guns, shootings, stomach wounds

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Five years. It took you five years to make it where you are today. Five years of no sleep, constant anxiety and a need to get where you want to be.

You worked your butt off in school to get your many degrees, but your hidden passion was computer work. Getting into the many cracks that was hidden and searching for answers or for what was in the unknown. It was what made you so useful to the FBI.

Throughout your five years of working for the FBI, you had been with multiple units as a technical analyst, helping your coworkers save the day on different missions. It brought you more joy than you would have thought it did when you stepped into the FBI building all those years ago.

Within that time, you've joined your teams on and off the field helping, and you struggled with what you liked better, field work or office work. Either way, you were helping. So, when you got the offer to transfer to the FBI's BAU, though you were sad to leave your team, you jumped at the chance to work with the group that was your end goal. And that was because of one person.

Penelope.

You both had only met a handful of times, your schedules always opposite of each other and your work bringing you to different locations didn't help either. But she was your mentor and her word was gospel. It had started your first year at the FBI, you had hacked into her computers just for fun and since then you were best friends. And now you were finally getting to work right were you wanted to be.

"Oh my god, oh my god, it's you! It's really you!" Penn gasped out once she saw you make your way through the double doors of the BAU's bull pen. She squished you into a hug, disregarding the fact you had a huge box in your hand.

You laughed in her embrace and your free hand circled her back. "I know it feels like a dream!"

You stood there chatting for a second before a smooth masculine voice came from behind Penn. "I heard we were getting a new partner in crime, I didn't think she'd be this beautiful." He stopped besides Penelope before saying to her, "Not as beautiful as you, baby girl."

You smiled at the exchange between the two. You had done your research on the team, Penn suppling you with random lists she made of each member to help you get to know them better. "You must be Derek Morgan, it's a pleasure to meet you." You said, stretching out your one good hand to shake.

"You know me?" Derek chuckled, as he shook your hand.

"I've done my research." You winked at him before laughing.

"See, she'll fit right in." Penn said before grabbing your hand and introducing you to everyone.

Two weeks had flown by since you started working besides Penn. It was awkward at first getting to know the team and how each one worked, but you didn't mind. It was the awkward bits that made it fun. You had managed to nail down how everyone worked and what they expected, except for Spencer. He was upset at you randomly, bickering at the things you said or just wanting the news from Penelope. Rossi told you it was because he didn't like change, and not to take it personally. But as the days went by, it was starting to, not matter how hard you were telling yourself to power through.

It wasn't until a case that required you specifically was when he started acting differently.

It was a strange case, the UnSub would implant a virus into large computer server farms, where he would kill his victims by using flashing lights and noises through their computers to send them into a deathly seizure. The only way to rid this virus was to remove the discs that were implanted in person while also blocking it remotely from getting to people. It was a two-person job, and Hotch decided it was best to fly you out with them since you were cleared for field work.

Spencer wasn't thrilled and he made it known, Hotch sending him looks to shut him up when he started. You didn't mind when he wasn't besides you, you could ignore it like you used to when you had similar thoughts from people on your old teams, but when Hotch paired you two together with Derek that's when it started to annoy you and it just got worse as the day went on.

"Do you ever shut up?" You asked him that night at the police station. Everyone was trying to figure where the UnSub would strike next, but all Spencer could do was dismiss everything you'd say.

The room grew silent when you finally snapped. Derek and Emily biting their lips to stop from smiling because you finally stuck up for yourself.

"I don't care if you're a genius. You don't know computers like I do. If I were the UnSub, I would strike here. It's a huge server farm with plenty of rooms full of servers to sneak this virus in. He's gone with all smaller farms before and has been building his way up. He's cocky, and he isn't going to stop until he hits the biggest farms." Spencer stood quiet, watching you as you took a deep breath in before you tilted your head at him. "Oh, and did I forget to mention, I have several degrees in Psychology and Criminal Justice along with degrees in almost every field on computer work?"

The room broke out into chuckles, Spencer remaining silent. Rossi gave you a pat on the back with a small wink. "I think you finally broke him. Good job."

The next day, you were once again paired up with Spencer, this time alone. He was quiet as you drove and didn't say a word until you were at the farm when he grabbed you and whispered to be quiet.

You looked at him shocked, he wasn't one for physical touch, especially to new people and you knew it wouldn't happen with you with how much he disliked you. He pointed at the hallway that upon inspection had droplets of blood going down it. Spencer drew his weapon and stepped in front of you as you both headed down the hall to find a security guard leaning against the wall bleeding from several gunshot wounds.

Spencer called for an ambulance and back up before saying, "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, what happened?""

The man struggled to sit up so he could talk. You helped him up, pressing your sweater against his wounds. "A man came in, shot me and headed to our main server room. I tried to lock down the doors before he could get in, but he shot the control booth and shot me again."

You looked up at the control panel in the small room next to you. Spencer replaced your hands on the man's stomach and nodded for you to take a look. The panel was beyond fixing, the only way into the server room was to unlock it by hacking into the lock on the door. You looked back Spencer who was holding the man up as he reassured him help was on the way.

"The only way to open the room is accessing the panel box on the door. We're going to have get to the main room." Spencer nodded and helped looked at the security guard next to him.

"Tell me how to do it, you stay here with him."

"It's not something you can just figure out, it's something I need to do."

"No, Y/L/N. It's too dangerous, you're just an office worker."

You sent him an annoyed look. "I'm more qualified than you think I am."

"You may think you're qualified, but they didn't give you a gun. So, tell me what to do."

You looked at him and sighed. There was no way he could unlock the access panel in time to stop the UnSub and arguing back and forth was stalling you both. You could either give him the information and hope he figures it out or break away from Spencer and do it yourself.

In no way did you want credit or glory in taking down an UnSub, you just wanted to stop him. You didn't want him to take more lives than he already had, and this server farm was huge, and he could easily kill hundreds if he wanted too. Wasting time was ideal in this situation. You could have your badge taken away or be removed from the team, but you knew you had to try. So, you did the opposite of what the boy genius was telling you to do, and that was to sprint out of the control room, Spencer screaming for you to come back as you headed to the main server room.

You looked at the control panel on the side wall, pulling the frame off of it before plugging in your phone to it and taking over the controls. Your brain felt like it was on fire with how hard you were trying to find the specific number pattern to help your phone out. Once you figured it out you could easily hack into main control system and open the door. But you still had the UnSub to think about. He already shot up the security guard which he hasn't done before. So, you had to figure he was by the door, gun ready for you to come in. You were a few seconds away to opening up the door when an angry Spencer came running your way, his face red with anger.

You didn't have time to think, you just did. You launched yourself at Spencer, knocking him over as the door opened and bullets flew towards you.

Spencer was stunned with your body draped over his, your sweet perfume mixing with his woodsy scent. He watched you quickly get up, somehow dodging the few bullets that was shot at you before knocking the gun out of the UnSub's hand with a roundhouse kick before swiftly taking him the ground, his face smooshed into the ground. You looked like an angel and his brain couldn't comprehend what just happened.

The sound of footsteps heading his way and JJ leaning down to check on him brought Spencer back to reality. You single handedly stopped an UnSub with a roundhouse kick while saving his life a few seconds earlier.

Hotch quickly took over from you and handcuffed the UnSub. "Go, I got this."

You nodded and looked at the hundreds of servers in front of you, analyzing which ones could contain the virus. The team watched you as you figured which ones had it and how many there were. The rest of the day was spent disarming the virus, Spencer following you around as you went holding onto whatever you gave him.

"Hey, Y/N." Spencer's voice came from behind you as you made your way to the plane's stairs.

You turned aorund to find him staring at you, nervousness written all over his face. "Yeah?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, I just wanted to thank you for back at the server farm. You knew what needed to be done, and you were able to stop the virus before it could take another life. So good job back there."

A smile crept onto your face at how nervous he was to thank you. "No problem. I have anti-terrorist training from one of the old units I worked with. We profile and anticipate their next moves so it was pretty similar."

"You were a field agent?" He asked, as he made his way up the stairs behind you.

"Yeah, I worked on and off the field in my old units. It helps me from going stir crazy." You laughed and took a seat on the couch, Spencer joining you.

"Wow, and the karate?"

"Oh, I was a gymnast and did karate growing up."

The rest of the plane ride you spent talking with Spencer about your old units and your interests.

Emily looked over at Rossi and Derek before nodding over to the two of you. "Looks like they're going to be inseparable soon."

"Looks like you and Penelope have some competition." Rossi chuckled.

"Baby girl and I are going to have to step it up."

JJ tuned around in her seat to join the conversation. "Looks like Spence is already pretty comfortable."

The team looked over to see your head on Spencer's shoulder and his on rest on the top of yours, sleep finally catching up to you two.

Hotch sighed at the two of you. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to watch them too."

#spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #dr reid #criminal minds penelope #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #jj criminal minds #arron hotchner #derrick morgan #david rossi

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ibelievewhatyousaid · 2 months ago

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The Sinner’s assigned Abnormalities in L. Corp are very intriguing to me, as not being a general “resonance,” that Limbus uses with its current day Ego. But! They were assigned that for a given reason, even if only on a meta level, so I’d like to put my two cents into it as I love the Lobcorp Abnos so much. These are simplified summaries of the Abnormalities and speculation on how they fit said Sinner.

Faust - Forsaken Murderer

I do not believe she has an Ego Gift adored to her except the one for this Abno, so we can focus in on this purely; all being of Forsaken Murderer. (On this note, although I am not talking about the realization Ruina Egos, Meursault has Ego for this Abno as well) Forsaken Murderer in his original logs was said to have been a murderer in federal prison to have been sentenced to death. Before that could take place, a bunch of researchers decided to experiment on him. They wanted to prove an innate “evil,” existed and on a further level, they wanted to “cure,” him, although unclear what it really was they wanted to cure. Their experiments twisted out all of his penitence for violence, turning him docile, until he came to this belief of ringing in his head, that his head itself had became metal, leading to self harm against himself. Eventually a fatal accident happens, the researchers jump the ship and decide to simply dissect his brain, until the end he muttered, “ends, begins, ends, begins, end.”

NOW, this is hard to shape into Faust’s story, given how little we know about her on a deeper level, but, I think there’s already (shallow-ish) connections we can make. Faust has a lot of implications of science experiment (Child in a Flask, Telepole) whether we take this ‘literally,’ it’s safe to say either way Faustcord keeps her on a tight leash as being an “experiment” of a Faust who is willing to take a gamble. A lot of Forsaken Murderer focuses on the fact he is chained and tied up but “free as any other man,” we could take this as Faust’s expectation of being a skilled scientist and genius who is bound by those around her, to fulfill that role, yet “free,” at the sake of being all knowing. Faust is “omnipresent,” yet she is just another in a chain of command. In TKT she mentions to Vergilius that both of them “know their place,” despite how great she is, how “free,” of knowing she is, she is just another chain, in both the City and Dante’s contract to the sinners. We can also go deeper with this concept of “inevitably,” of the city, given to her by a predestined plan of fates, in every mirror world, how it all will end has already been put into motion. To know of how tied you are to fate surely must be a token of freedom as well, can’t it? He also seems to have a bit of an ego, a Ruina line of his being, “Don’t look at me with those eyes. You’re the most pitiful one here.” Which, fits Faust’s need to be above others, such as “Faust is brilliant, smart, Yi Sang is a genius.” An implication that Yi Sang had a cap on how brilliant he can be, something he must’ve lucked into, Faust was born to be great. Even if she is regrettably pitiful in every other aspect. An inability to connect to others or form meaningful attachments, this especially rears its head in events were her intelligence creates gaps between her and others, all of MotWE or Dante’s brush off of her in Canto 6 when she cannot given them an answer, or, even earlier, Sinclair accusing Faust and Limbus using the Sinners as compasses to boughs. In all situations it leaves her isolated and awkward, unable to answer, creating a larger, pitiful wedge between her and others, despite how great she is. She is still a thing to be “studied,” whether from an actual scientist or to other versions of her, or those around her, she is a spectacle.

Outis - Der Freishütz / Bloodbath

The story of Der Freischütz in Lobcorp was of a marksman making a deal with the devil, the devil proposed that the gun could shoot anyone, on the last bullet it would pierce the person the marksman loved, in return, the devil would gain the marksman soul in hell. The marksman thus went through all his bullets, killing off all his loved ones. The marksman traveled, simply doing good and bad deeds in impulse, no sign of an actual moral code. Eventually, he realized that the devil had long since stopped following him. He realizes that the contract had long been fulfilled, since the very beginning of him giving up his loved ones, did he fall to hell. And so, now a devil as well, the marksman continued to shoot anyone he wanted, forever.

Again, another sinner we’re left out in the cold for. But, to tap into Outis’ source, The Odyssey, the story follows Odysseus’ desperation to finally reach home, to his family. As the stories play out the more Odysseus gives up his morals. To sacrificing his men to no mercy, a king who was once gentle and kind, gives up all people around him to succeed in arriving home. Of course, from the start, Odysseus had given up his family, a mother who died alone, a wife left waiting for over a decade, a son who had never known him. Odysseus also makes many deals with Gods around him, something he pays greatly later for. Of course, none of this is a one for one, but I think it is to mimic Odysseus, or here, Outis’ slower decent into someone who hurts those who she loves (or should’ve) by her cruelty, once Odysseus had set off to war was the moment he was bound to lose everything. Which, is very similar to how Der Freishütz is, he had lost his humanity the moment he made the deal.

Bloodbath is a Abno based overtly on Carmen, but, to ease it into a more general baseless story, the Abnormality represents: “the pain of all those who couldn’t take their sorrow in stride.” A huge focus on Bloodbath is the guilt of love, of unable to achieve success, using “scars” as marks of failure. The bath mocks the person peering in with hands reaching out desperately, as if begging to be saved, or joined, in this misery. It’s a sign of endless despair, unable to ever reach the climax of this, the only outcome is to accept this wave of despair and let yourself accept it.

So, arguably this fits Outis really well just on the bases of the line: “Many hands float in the bath. They are the hands of the people I once loved.” This once again, is more of a line of thinking born from her source, but a lot of Odysseus’ guilt is haunting to him, specifically that of Penelope, but overall, he gives up many men, including people very close to him, to never truly “succeed,” I feel like this one is easier to connect to, given what I said of the previous Abno to Outis, so.

Don Quixote - Meat Lantern / Void Dream / Fragment of the Universe

Meat Lantern is quite.. obtuse, in its logs, both in Lobcorp and LoR most is left obscure. Which is terribly fitting. Meat Lantern, by your guess, is obviously not a tiny little flower. The logs say that it is gigantic, underneath the entire facility, always waiting, it lures people in, in L. Corp’s lens, it lures in employees by being a lantern, something shiny, full of hope, they haven’t seen stuck underground for so long. Any nature, any lights, something that wasn’t horrific or artificial has long since been lost to everyone there. It’s easy to feel it calling to them, to reach out, to touch, but it’s all a ploy to devour and eat whoever trusts it.

So, Donqui’s Abnos are actually what made me originally want to write about them. I had written out my analysis of hers a few months before, but it was too hinged on my own reading of her that it felt easy to write off as me sounding insane. But! With the reveal of MotWE.. this seems, pretty obvious. (Glad to know I’m not too crazy) Don Quixote wears a mask, one of “hope” something born from really just being .. silly, of something rare in the City. Someone who genuinely believes in good? In hope? Here? As “Don Quixote” stands as an ideal, a concept, “too good to be true.” and beneath that is a “reality,” no one’s has “really ever seen.” (as the log says about the “real body” of Meat Lantern) and then “devours” people. Yeah. I bet.

Void Dream’s logs follow someone who has Void Dream eat all their nightmares, giving them the best dream they could have imagined, the person they love had returned, even working in such a horrible company that is L. Corp was good. Everything was so, so amazing, a perfect ideal world for the dreamer. When waking up, the person was crushed by reality, when forced to confront the truth they became despaired. They tried to find those dreams again, in an obsession, but, they never did come back. The employee comes to the realization that Void Dream’s deal was too good to be true, that from the start, the Abno had set them up. And they had lost, unable to enjoy either sides of reality or dreams, they find their way back to Void Dream and beg them to eat all their dreams. Stealing away all their dreams, nightmares, hopes and despairs, virtually leaving them empty. When Void Dream is accused of leading people on, it brushes off the person, insisting it just wishes the best for others. The line, “a demon must change its shape to deceive others.”

Originally, I had read this purely as Don Quixote being put into the victim’s prospective, someone who “wakes up” from a perfect dream to be crushed by reality. And, I don’t actually disagree, I think this still 100% fits. But I think her fitting “as” the Abnormality makes perfect sense, too. Obviously, the whole “deceiving others,” line fits. To change one’s shape, a “demon” a Bloodfiend, to deceive others into seeing it as innocent, pure, true to the ideals it preaches. But, and this is a bit speculation on what we know very little of, “Don Quixote,” was given, or is a dream herself that a Bloodfiend wishes to dream, that Bloodfiend must’ve spun this tale, this “perfect” dream is an “act of kindness,” despite not being kind at all. Despite giving out this dream, not only to herself, but to others around her, does it lead to destruction and a harsher fall to reality itself.

Fragment of the Universe.. actually isn’t an Abnormality. At least, not traditionally, if the logs are true. The log mentions how it let itself be caught and studied, and through studying they declared it “intelligent enough” to communicate via language, thus, it learned more and more of humans and humanity. It became endeared and loved people. It reflected what it saw, leading to it looking like a kid’s drawings of hearts. When asked why it had came to interact with humans, it said it wanted to spread messages. One being its song, a song of the universe that drove people crazy, but also let them “finally see the stars,” and also to inform everyone that “there are no coincidences in the universe.”

FotU is really intertwined to its love of humanity, even its design is rooted in this love for the species. Its aim to spread its song is to “relieve” people, as well, even if misguided or unable to be understood. I think Don Quixote, as a concept, is so terribly human. She’s overly emotional, she’s quick to action, strong morals, she’s clumsy and brave and fearful and determined. She is so very human that it backfires. Given Cassetti’s lines, “we are so, so hideous behind the mask.” and his dedication as well as other Bloodfiends to “run” from being monsters and Elena’s lines of her wondering if she was desperate enough to “chase after being an ordinary human again.” I think the Bloodfiend behind Don Quixote genuinely loves humans, and, most likely, wants to “be” one. And “reflects” what she sees, which is a habit Donqui has, mirroring Merusault in TKT, or wishing to “copy” other sinners from Outis’ wristwatch. Donqui also has a huge tie to stars, so, so many of her IDs have her mentioning them, not to mention her tagline. I think an Abno who knows far more than it lets on, powerful, letting itself into humanity, coming to love them, but never being one, is dreadfully fitting.

Yi Sang - Funeral of the Dead Butterflies

FotDB is an Abnormality born from the pain and suffering of.. Lobotomy Corporation, actually! It’s a mourner who is rumored to wandering the halls of the facility with a coffin for those who are bound to be lost, an early mourning for those who are destined to die, and an incomplete sorrow for those already gone, the coffin too small to fit them all, unable to fall asleep or escape. The ending of the log decides that there is no escape, these butterflies are damned to wait, because there “must be an end to every world.”

I think, just like with Gregor’s case, although the original Abnormality is directly tied to L. Corp, in a more general definition, it is about the pain and sorrow of those inevitable deaths born from things such as K corp, or the Smoke War. Cases of people’s lives being thrown away and devalued, not given proper burials, no home to escape to, a fate to dying here, leaving the mourning to the others in the same situation who simply “lucked out.” In Yi Sang’s case, an “ending for every world,” feels very deliberate to the “world,” in which he was locked up in a cage, passively awaiting the days for it to end, one way or another, only to realize he was able to walk out, that the door was never locked. Yi Sang’s grief and attachment to the League of Nine, the only person who seems to grieve over those loses, alone, carrying that pain wherever he goes. In that sense, “an ending to every world,” could also be turned into a guaranteed ending of things he loved as well. There is more to be said, but this one seems very obvious.

Ryōshū - Spider Bud / One sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds / Scorched Girl / Bloodbath / Big and Will be Bad Wolf

(Oh my God girl. Do you need that many???)

Spider Bud is an Abno that is deeply protective of her babies, quite literally her alternative name being “brood mother,” she reacts negatively and violent if an Agent hurts or steps on her children

Ryōshū has gotten this Abno thrice now. It’s gotta be important, and yeah, it is! This is born purely from her Source, but Yoshihide’s tragedy is losing his daughter, Spider Bud’s entire gimmick is being peaceful (as an Abno can be) unless someone hurts her children, she stalks and watches and exacts revenge against those people. I didn’t want to bring in Uptie stories, but Ryōshū’s uncharacteristic gentleness to the spiderlings who nip at her is really.. striking. Once again, this one feels kind of.. duh, so I won’t go much deeper into it.

One Sin is an Abnormality with the purpose of being confessed to, to relieve one of their sins, it’s tied to religion to Hell’s screen gimmick of.. Hell.. feels, yes, but I feel as though this is more general and disingenuous from One Sin’s connection to Christianity while Hell’s screen is about Buddhism’s hell. Instead this felt more interlined to Parallel Gebura. A lot of people have jumped on this for power scaling fun, but! I think it’s important to realize why Carmen would’ve said “At least similar in this regard,” my take is that a huge aspect of Gebura’s woes in Lobcorp was her unable to protect those she loved. Given Yoshihide’s tragedy here, unable to protect his daughter. I think that is the aim that makes the most sense right now with how very little we have about Ryōshū.

Scorched Girl is another Abnormality she’s already gotten, all in all, SG lives on a sense of angered revenge and self destruction. Her logs depict her to be torn in two from her desire of affection to one of wishing harm on others.

Her attempt at hurting others involves hurting herself, which lines up with Yoshihide’s ending, of his natural self destructiveness, how he makes his art and his death. Her rage also lines up with Ryōshū’s, a want to have back warmth, love she’s lost, but only able to be a match of destruction.

Bloodbath, we already covered this in Outis’ section! I think Outis and Ryōshū naturally align similarly, (Hong Lu, Mr. “Horrific family” isn’t ever the one getting cold or aloof to mentions of family or parents or children, it’s only ever these two!) A guilt of unable to succeed despite how much you gave up and sacrificed, including others And to lose those you love, the hands in the water being everyone you’ve ever loved, by your own faults.

Finally, Big and Will be Bad Wolf! The Abnormality is about being set up from birth being one way. From the way society sees you, you will always be what they depict you as. The Abnormality doesn’t feel remorse over the violence it causes, because it was “inevitable” he’d turn out this way. Who is he to blame nature? Regardless of nurture.

This one is the most hard to really fit without going “well, just a hunch.” I think this could be in regards to Yoshihide’s further and further acts of violence and pain to others around him, but unable to feel that remorse (until it is too late) because he was born with this way. He was “born” an “artist.” Who is he to defy things sacrificed for art? He is unable to be anything but cruel and vindictive, and he doesn’t try to be.

Well, that’s everything I could remember off the top of my head! Apologies if it starts to get a little weaker by the end, I’ve been typing for hours. In general, there’s more I could say or conclude, but, because of how loose Abnos are in concept, as well as how most of these Sinners (everyone but Yi Sang…) haven’t had their cantos yet, it leaves a lot of assumptions built upon their sources and short behavior ticks we’ve seen them display. I won’t say these are confirmed or sure fire takes but more so a jumping off point in fathoming these choices.

#limbus company #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #faust limbus company #outis limbus company #don quixote limbus company #yi sang limbus company #ryoshu limbus company

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 months ago

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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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redrose10 · 3 months ago

Text

Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose

Word Count: 3,824

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.

You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.

“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.

The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.

“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.

You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”

“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.

The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.

“How do you know Yoongi?”

“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”

The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”

The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.

The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.

“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”

You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.

Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.

But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.

Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.

Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.

So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.

Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.

At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.

Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.

Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.

Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.

His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.

At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.

He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.

Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.

Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.

And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.

Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.

You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.

You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.

As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.

After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.

It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.

With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.

“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”

Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?

You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.

*Knock…Knock…Knock*

Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.

The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.

“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.

Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.

“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.

Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.

Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.

Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.

You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.

You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.

“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.

You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.

“Bosses orders”, the man growled.

Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.

You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.

You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.

Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.

“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.

“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.

You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.

He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.

A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.

Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.

As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.

Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.

A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.

Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”

You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.

You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.

You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.

Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.

Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.

Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.

“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.

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