#content warning: minor injury
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Madison Paige
Obsolete character sheet image -you can see here I attempted to do a hand-drawn idea of imagry on her jacket to replace the images in the game. I ultimately decided to just simplify the jacket and not include the design at all.
Current character reference sheets (excluding out of context spoilers)
#art#my art#comic#comics#heavy rain#heavy rain the morgan meryl cut#madison paige#character sheets#character model sheets#model sheets#settei#reference#cw: minor injury#content warning: minor injury#tw: minor injury#trigger warning: minor injury#quantic dream
6 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Whump Dialogue Prompts
(Feel free to use but please tag me! I wanna read what you make with these :D) (NSFW under the cut, minors dni)
Whumpee:
âNo, stopâshut up, youâre lying! They wouldnâtâtheyâd neverâshut up, shut up, shut up!â
âPlease, noâŚnot now. I canât, pleaseâŚplease just let me restâŚâ
âGet the fuck away from me! No, donâtâget backâcome anywhere near me with that and I swear to God youâll regret it!â
âYouâre fucking delusional if you think for a second Iâd ever follow your fucking orders.â
Whumper:
âHold still or Iâll re-tie those ropes so tight your hands will fall off.â
âIf youâd just tell me what I want to hearâŚâ
âThis is to make you better, you know that.â
âI knew you were pathetic, but pissing yourself over a little pain is just gross.â
Caretaker:
âShh, itâs okay. I know, I know it hurts but shh, you need to keep quiet, stay still, itâll be okay, just calm downâŚâ
âYouâre gonna be okay, you hear me? Weâll get you out of here, weâll fix you up, good as new, I promise. No, donât try to talk, save your breath.â
âWhy the fuck didnât you tell me it was this bad?â
âFuck, what did they do to youâŚoh God, youâre awake? No, itâs okay! Itâs a good thing, itâs good, youâre doing great. Talk to me, tell me anything, just stay awake. Eyes on me.â
NSFW (TW)
Whumper:
âA pretty thing like you shouldâve seen this coming.â
âAnd here I thought I was fucked up. Are you seriously getting off on this?â
âIf I stop, what will you do for me in return?â
Whumpee:
âNo, please, not thatâplease, please no, anything but that, not again!â
âWhatâŚwait, what are you doingâno, stop! Stop! I said stop!â
âNoâŚno, you canât! Iâve neverâyou sick fuckingâwait, wait, please wait, Iâyouâprep me first, please, Iâll tear, you have to prep me firstââ
Caretaker:
âWhere are your clothes? Why are youâŚoh God.â
âOh GodâŚtell me [Whumper] didnâtâŚâ
âNo! No, Iâd neverâIâm not going to do that. I was just trying to help you change your clothes, remember?â
#whump#whump prompt#whump prompts#whump dialogue#whump quotes#torture whump#nsfwhump#whumpee#whumper#caretaker#noncon whump#captivity whump#injury whump#gaslighting whump#defiant whumpee#scared whumpee#sadistic whumper#masochistic whumpee#horrified caretaker#trigger warning#dead dove content#minors dni#minors do not interact#not safe for minors
110 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.
Masterpost / AO3
18.
The door swung open to reveal a knocked over side table, a smashed lamp on the floor, and Jamie Tartt sprawled next to it, bleeding from one hand. Over him stood a man Roy didnât recognise. He was short, with unkempt grey curls and a wild beard.
He was also drunk, Roy noted, as the man turned toward him. Steady enough on his feet, but his gaze was slightly unfocused, and the smell of stale beer unmistakable.
âYou expecting visitorsâ â the man began to drawl, but then his eyes lit up with recognition. âOh, Roy Kent, is it, didnât expect to see you making house calls to old teammates, but I guess you have a lot of free time on your hands now, eh?â He looked down on Jamie, adding, âGet up, Jamie, no need to lay around like a little bitch just âcause you took a tumble, I taught you better than that.â He turned back to Roy, shaking his head in mock-commiseration. âFootballer, and canât even stay on his feet. Might be why you lost so badly today, eh, son? Your balanceâs gone to shit now that youâre faffing around with a bunch of amateurs instead of a real team.â
Roy stared at the man with mounting disbelief and disgust, then turned his gaze on Jamie, who was unsteadily climbing to his feet. The look on his face shocked Roy far more than the signs of a scuffle had; heâd never imagined that Jamie could look so fucking small; curled in on himself, pale, and with downcast eyes, like a child awaiting punishment.
Like a child. Son.
Roy jerked his head toward the drunk. âThis your father?â he asked, surprised at how level he sounded.
Jamieâs eyes flitted to the man, then quickly down again. He gave a small nod.
âUh-huh. You want him here?â
âHey now, Kent, youâve no businessâ â
âNot talking to you.â Roy cut him off with a curt gesture, eyes still trained on Jamie. âTartt, do you want him here?â
Jamie didnât say anything; didnât nod his head yes or shake it no. But he looked up at Roy and in his face there was such resigned hopelessness that it hit Roy like a punch to the gut.
Roy nodded once. âRight.â And before Jamieâs father had time to react, he grabbed hold of him and dragged him towards the door, ignoring the flailing arms and the kicks and the yelling, and tossing him down the step with enough force that the man fell flat on the gravel, hopefully cutting his ugly mug on the pebbles as he went. Roy shut and locked door on his cursing and threats, and turned back to Jamie, who hadnât moved.
âThe fuck happened here?â Roy asked. âYou all right?â
âYeah, yeah, good, yeah,â Jamie said, sounding slightly dazed as he cradled his injured hand with his good one. âFell. Knocked the table over, cut my hand on the lamp, but Iâm good. Yeah.â
Like hell you are, Roy thought, and might have said if they werenât interrupted by a loud banging on the door. âJamie, you open this fucking door, you hear me! Kent, I donât care who you think you are, you posh southern twat, Iâll stillââ
Roy stopped listening. âHe got a key?â he asked Jamie, who had started violently at the sound of his fatherâs assault on the door.
âNo.â
âGood. Let him tire himself out, then. Or you want me want to call the police?â
Jamieâs eyes widened at that. âNo! No, just⌠donât do that. Donât call the police.â
âAll right.â Heâd have offered to knock the bastard out, but an unconscious man on the porch might cause all sorts of annoying questions; Roy knew that from personal experience. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to. âCome on then, letâs have a look at that,â he said, gesturing toward Jamieâs hand. âThis the kitchen through here?â
Had anyone told Roy that thereâd come a day when heâd find Jamie Tartt not talking back concerning, heâd have laughed them right in their idiot face, but as Jamie silently followed him into what indeed turned out to be a kitchen and obediently took out a first aid kit and then sat down when Roy asked him to, he was just that: concerned, and not a little thrown off-kilter by the turn his impromptu visit had taken.Â
There were two cuts on Jamieâs hand, neither of them deep, and Jamie didnât protest when Roy quickly cleaned them out and put plasters on them. Just sat there, hand held out, letting Roy do whatever he wanted.
Fucking disconcerting didnât even begin to describe it.
âThere,â Roy said when he was satisfied with his efforts. âHe got you anywhere else?â
Jamie stirred at that, shifting uncomfortably. âHe didnâtâ He just shoved me, like. Hit the wall, tripped on me feet and knocked over the table. Fucking clumsy,â he added, more to himself than to anyone else.
âOi,â Roy said sharply, then pressed his lips together tightly when Jamie flinched. âFuck. Sorry. Youâre a lot of things, Jamie, but youâre not clumsy. This wasnât your fucking fault.â
Which might have been a hasty conclusion, perhaps, given Jamieâs general propensity for starting fights and the number of time Roy himself would have been more than happy to shove â and do more than shove â Jamie, but given what heâd seen of Jamieâs father, and given what he saw of Jamie now, Roy did not doubt for a second that he had this right. Whatever had gone down, it hadnât been on Jamie. And hadnât been the first time either.
âYeah,â Jamie said, softly. Too softly to sound convinced.
In the quiet that followed, Roy noted that the banging on the door had stopped. Which was a fucking relief, of course, but it also made the silence between them a tangible, thorny thing, stretching out painfully and awkwardly as Roy wondered what the hell to do now. He could  clean out wounds and put plasters on them, sure, and he was fucking brilliant at getting rid of deadbeat fathers, but as for what came after⌠He wasnât great with words at the best of times, wasnât any good at offering comfort â and it wasnât like him and Jamie were friends. Up until yesterday, and if Roy had been a dramatic arsehole, he would have gone so far as to call them enemies. Yet here he was, in Jamie Tarttâs kitchen, trying to think of one single useful thing to say or do; anything that might draw the loud, obnoxious, swaggering Jamie he knew (and loathed) out of this slumped, muted version of the man.
âHe show up here a lot?â he asked eventually, mostly for something to say.
âNo.â Jamieâs voice was still much too quiet, but at least he was responding. âHe lives up in Manchester.â
Roy remembered a confession made around a sacrificial fire. Bragging about me scoring goals. Calling me soft if I donât dominate.
âHe pissed about the missed goal?â he hazarded. He hadnât watched the game, but heard enough about it from Keeley to know it hadnât been Richmondâs, or Jamieâs, finest hour.
But Jamie shook his head. He was fiddling with the plasters on his hand, eyes averted. âNot really. Doesnât give a shit if Iâm not playing for City, does he. Was in town for their game against Palace, decided to drop by.â A small, unhappy shrug, and quick, almost furtive look in Royâs direction. âWanted to know what I was getting him for Christmas. Since Iâm rich and all.â
âBroken bones and a fucking restraining order if he shows his fucking face here again,â Roy said grimly. When Jamie didnât react other than to hunch his shoulders, Royâs eyes narrowed in realisation. âHeâs coming back, isnât he? Bring some mates, wait âtil Iâm gone?â Yeah, Roy knew the fucking type.
A shrug from Jamie, one that said yes.
Roy made a disgusted noise â but at least this meant that there was something he could actually do.
âAll right,â he said, straightening from the counter heâd been leaning on. âLetâs go, then.â
Jamie didnât stir from his chair, just looked up at Roy with a mix of confusion and suspicion. âWhy? Where are we going?â
âMy place. Youâre coming with me.â
âWhy?â Sharper this time. More like the normal Jamie.
Roy raised an eyebrow. âBecause if your arsehole father is planning a grand return, you not being here when that happens sounds like great fucking idea to me.â
Colour rose in Jamieâs cheeks. âNone of your business, though, is it,â he snapped. âI donât need a fucking babysitter, Roy. I donât need anything from you.â
He definitively sounded a lot more like himself, to the point where Roy had to actively fight the urge to snap back. It was far easier than it once would have been though; easier to forgive the rudeness when the shame it was meant to hide was still plain on Jamieâs face.
âYou think Keeleyâd let me hear the end of it if I left you here alone, knowing that that piece of shit might be coming back?â Roy asked, carefully making sure he kept his voice light and dry. Then he sighed, holding a hand up in surrender. âListen, Iâm not going to make you stay with me if you donât want to, but youâre not staying here either. I can drop you off at Tedâs or⌠or fucking Isaacâs, if youâd rather. Take you to Keeleyâs and bugger off myself, even. Just⌠fucking come with me, Jamie. Please.â
In the back of his mind, some small part of Roy was wondering how the fuck he, in the span of 24 short hours, had gone from genuinely wanting to smash Jamieâs teeth in to feeling really fucking desperate that the other should accept his help.
Heâd need to think on that, probably. Later.
Jamie mumbled something. Roy frowned. âWhat?â
âI said, your place is fine.â He glanced up at Roy, and tried for a weak, wobbly smirk. âHear the porch looks dead good.â
Roy barked a short, surprised snort of a laugh. âWas done up by a fucking lunatic, but yeah, I guess it isnât half-bad.â He jerked his head toward the door. âLetâs go.â
This time, when Jamie went without further protests, it felt like a victory.
---
The drive back to Chelsea was slow, and quiet. When they stopped for a red light, Roy glanced over at Jamie, who hadnât said a word since he got in the car, and bit back a low, startled curse.
Jamie was crying soundlessly, silent tears running down his cheeks while he stared straight ahead into nothing.
Roy felt a rush of panic course through him. What the fuck was he supposed to do? His first instinct, which was to offer a gruff get yourself together, Tartt would not â of that he was very sure â serve. But what else was there?
Keeley would know what to do. She was great at this emotional shit. Wasnât scared of a few tears.
Keeley wasnât here.
It has to be me. It canât be anyone else.
Keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel, Roy reached out â slowly, carefully â to put his other hand on Jamieâs neck. Jamie was tense under his palm, but didnât shy away from the touch.
Roy squeezed, once, briefly. âYouâll be all right,â he murmured.
#james tartt sr#is his own content warning#minor violence#minor injuries#hurt/comfort#roy & jamie#jamie's christmas carol#fic#my stuff
11 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Scene from one of my D&D campaigns!
#dungeons and dragons#draconic#elf#dark elf#drow#half human#half fae#Avery#Vaneas#content warning#drug use#cigarette#smoking#minor injury#bruising#digital art
1 note
¡
View note
Text
đđđđđđđđ đđ
đđđđđđđđ
- zayne x reader
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truthâyou will never be able to replace her.
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive contentâminors do not interact!âangst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayneâs bond story nostalgic sweetness
note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru
07.15 p.m
Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.
âDr. Zayne! Great job today!â Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. âWant to grab dinner with us?â
Honestly, he was starving too. âWhere?â
âOh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so Iâve heard. Câmon, weâre inviting the nurses too!â
He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.
âAlright.â
. . .
08.25 p.m
Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.
The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.
It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart thatâ
He was supposed to meet you at six.
If you were asked how you felt about your life now, youâd be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.
You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.
The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.
And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.
âMiss... weâre about to close now...â The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.
You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasnât the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.
Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husbandâs eyes wasnât a fun feeling.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husbandâs name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.
âHello, Zayne?â
âY/N?â Your husbandâs voice sounded frantic. âAre you still at the restaurant? Iâm goingââ
âAh, no need to. Iâm going home.â
âIâll pick you up then. Stay thereââ
âIâve already arrived.â
An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greysonâs laughter was unmistakable.
You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. âItâs totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?â
âYeah...â
âTake care then. See you at home.â
You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.
Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayneâs smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.
It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?
At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.
Your marriage has always been lukewarm.
Zayne wasnât an overly excited person, and you were his oppositeâbut try as you might, some things between you just didnât work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.
Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.
âDr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raidâŚâ
. . .
âYour husband is a doctor here. Why arenât you calling him?â
Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. âWhy do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?â
You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. âHeâs... a surgeon,â you panted. âHeâs busy.â
Above all, you didnât want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.
âWhat sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?â Xavier raised an eyebrow. âDid you at least notify him?â
You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.
âI will then.â
âNo.â
âY/N, youââ
âShut up, Xavierââ
The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.
When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husbandâs figure through your hazy vision. ââŚZayne?â
His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.
Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.
. . .
The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.
You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focusâalong with your husband's face.
"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."
"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentallyâ"
He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.
"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're rightâI'm fine..."
Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."
"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it beâ"
"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."
His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.
âIâm not a child,â you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. âIâm a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.â
âThe least you couldâve done is to tell meââ
âDo you know why I didnât? Itâs because I know how youâll react!â
ââand it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.â
âBelieve me, I do butâ!â
Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. âIâve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or youâll end upâ!â
He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.
His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.
The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.
Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.
And you suspected he had for a whileâperhaps even, from the very beginning.
For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.
âI donât have Protocore syndrome,â you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. âMy heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. Iâm not that weak.â
You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.
That was when your first tear fell.
Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.
To her.
You two are too much alike.
It wasnât the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldnât be the last.
On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.
Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.
Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.
After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.
And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.
. . .
"How much is this?"
"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"
Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.
He thought it'd suit you well.
"I'll get this then."
"Right away!"
As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.
Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi whenâ
"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.
There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.
It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.
"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.
Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."
You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"
"Mm-hm. It's getting better."
"I'll have a look at it later."
"Sure."
Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you werenât sure if you should.
Then, he said, "You really didnât have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."
To that, you pasted on a smile. âYou always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. Itâs only fair I do the same for you, husband.â
Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didnât realize it until after you said it.
But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."
So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.
"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."
"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."
"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."
The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldnât hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.
When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."
"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.
"Open it."
With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."
Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"
Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.
"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyesâ
âbut when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.
"It's healing nicely."
You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.
It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin withâso you often found yourself flustered.
"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."
He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."
"I know!"
Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.
âThank you, ZayneâŚâ you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.
"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."
Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.
"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."
Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. âIf you come to me injured again, Iâll start charging you fees.â
You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"
"A very uncooperative wife, you are."
You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. âWell then, rest. I have to go.â
âWhere are you going?â
âIâm going to stop by the floristââ
And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.
Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."
No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.
Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.
You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.
"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."
Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.
You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.
"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.
You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.
What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.
In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.
. . .
âDoes it get easier?â you asked out of curiosity afterwards. âThree years has passed already.â
Although Zayne wasnât one for drinking, even the need won today. He didnât meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. âSomewhat. As they say, time heals.â
You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.
âShe loved jasmines,â you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.
âShe did.â The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, âShe loved old popsicles and macarons too.â
âAnd you like them as well.â
âTo be honest, I started liking them back when we were kidsâŚâ Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. âShe cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...â
The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husbandâs affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.
Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. âDo I help you⌠in any way at all?â
Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.
âY/N, you...â
It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but thenâ
âI... am glad it is you.â
His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayneâs ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.
âYou were there on the hardest days. And ever since, youâve always stayed by my side.â He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldnât quite name. âIâm grateful for that.â
And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, âWhat I want to say is... Iâm glad I married you, Y/N.â
You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isnât yours to love, until now.
Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.
Was it the alcohol?
You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.
âMmph!â His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.
âZayâŚneâŚâ you gasped between his kissesâteary, breathless, your voice trembling.
But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.
He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wondersâ
In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.
He spitted on his hand, ran it along his memberâstroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of himâ
âAh!â his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.
âDoes it hurt?â he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.
It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.
âIf you donât want this, tell me to stop.â Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. âUnderstand?â
There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.
And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.
He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.
You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayneâs silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.
"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.
Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.
And yet, despite that...
âDo you... finally see me now?â you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.
Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.
But you never received your answer.
Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.
He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined togetherâ as he thrusted inside you over and over.
Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.
You are so happy. Incomparably so.
At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.
Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awakeâ
You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.
It dawned on him that he, too, wasnât decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasnât just the morning air.
Him and you... last night...
Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...
There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.
And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, andâ
He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.
. . .
It was the best sleep youâd had all week.
When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasnât beside you.
Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.
You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"
He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldnât quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.
"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.
"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.
And then came the killing blowâ
"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasnât in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."
Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.
"How was thatâ" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."
Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everydayâ even so!
Your husband considers that a night spent with you���his wifeâa mistake!
The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.
Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don'tâ"
"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.
No matter what you did, you would always come secondâor not at all.
The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.
Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Associationâs dorm just to escape it.
Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.
You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.
"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"
Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before todayâs rescue mission. "What...?"
"No, forget it."
Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by nowâas long as he couldnât let go of his past and you couldnât accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.
Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."
You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"
"Butâ" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."
At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.
But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."
"â?! You're so mean!"
A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"
You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."
A part of you wasnât fully committed to it, of courseâit was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:
Petition for Divorce.
Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.
You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.
He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in himâit felt as though his own heart had been split in two.
Believe it or not, he cherished you too.
That night, even though he didnât show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.
He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.
Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.
It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.
. . .
It was strange to see you on duty.
With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.
"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."
He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.
So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.
But that wasn't the most surprising of allâ
"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.
He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched youâeven if it was just in a platonic senseâwith another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.
Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.
It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...
Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.
But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadnât seen him at all.
Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?
Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.
He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldnât be among them.
"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.
"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."
"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"
Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Donât worry, theyâllâ"
Crash! âall of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.
"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"
Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.
"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"
He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.
"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.
A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"
"Those two! They are alwaysâ!"
What?
Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.
You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.
He didnât register letting go of his coat or crossing the police lineâall that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.
No. Not again!
Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.
"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"
All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...
He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.
The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasnât an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.
If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.
He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckageâ
You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.
Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squintedâ
A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.
A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.
The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.
"Zayne? Zayne!"
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.
Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.
Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.
"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."
Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."
He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.
Since then, you have always been there.
And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.
. . .
Another memory.
"Are you awake...?"
His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.
"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Donât worry about me. Go back to sleep."
You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.
Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Donât go."
"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.
"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"
"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"
You were noisy, but endearingly so.
. . .
"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."
There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.
And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.
"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.
He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.
"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"
You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"
Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...
In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.
"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"
The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than thatâ
"Zayne! Ah, hahâ Please, please! No!"
Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.
Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focusâthe sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still youâ the woman he had married two years ago.
Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?
"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.
"Why did youâ" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"
Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."
"I'll help you get back! Hold onto meâ" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"
"I'm... fine..."
"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"
You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.
Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."
"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"
"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."
"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"
"I canât wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."
His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have toâ!"
"You are my wifeâ" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worryâ for you?"
The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.
And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.
He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.
You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.
"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."
But in that moment, you couldnât care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.
You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. âZ-Zayne...!â
âWhy are you crying again...?â he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. âWhat a crybaby...â
You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. âYou... saved me...â you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. âY-You... got hurt...â
âIâll be fine,â he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. âAnd Iâd do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.â
You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.
He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.
It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.
And one night, several days later...
"Here, don't move..."
You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.
"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."
Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldnât shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.
"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.
"What, why aren't youâ Ah!"
Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"
He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? âCan't a husband cuddle his wife?â
You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. âYes, you can, but...â
His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. âThen thereâs nothing wrong with it. Letâs just stay like this for now.â
And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the nightâwith you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.
"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.
He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."
"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be⌠a mistake...?"
That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.
It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could neverâand would neverâtrade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.
At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him⌠they drive him to.
He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "Weâve come too far for it to be one."
Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.
He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.
But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely differentâ something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.
Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.
âI... want to treasure you better.â
Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.
Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
âThis time for sure... I will.â
And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.
#zayne x reader#lads zayne x reader#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#l&ds x you#zayne x you#zayne angst#zayne smut#zayne fic#lads smut#l&ds fic#lads angst#lads zayne#zayne l&ds#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#l&ds smut#l&ds zayne#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#love and deepspace scenarios#lads fic#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace zayne
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 34: The Whole Truth
Summary: In life, we will be confronted with difficult choices. Sometimes you won't know you've made the wrong choice until it's too late
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 12,582 words
Warnings: Dead dove: do not eat, Angst, graphic violence and torture, mentions of predatory behavior towards a minor, Phillip Graves is a major creep, lots blood and injuries, kidnapping and its aftermath, hostage situations, anxiety and panic attacks, language, very explicitly described torture, âmega gets hit a lot, choking, biting, âmega gets stabbed with an ice pick, author canât write COD missions, vomiting, lots of heavy emotions, detailed descriptions of pain, guns, background character dies on screen, descriptions of guilt and grief, lots of POV changes, some descriptive language of gore and blood at the end, rehashing of âmegaâs injuries from the last chapter, a lot of angst and very heavy content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe
A/N: This chapter deals with some pretty heavy content. Please, please, please read and heed the warnings. I have included content warnings for the more graphic parts before they happen, so if you don't want to read those, you can skip ahead to the next part. I suggest taking breaks if you need to, read it in installments if necessary. And I cannot stress it enough, please heed the warnings.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
âHi darlinâ.â His grin widens like heâs happy to see you. âBeen a long time.âÂ
You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, your brain still sluggish. You feel sick as you try to process, try to figure out why and how. You try to move your arms again, but your wrists are stuck, hands burning as you pull. You desperately want them free, desperately need them free.Â
âEasy,â Phil says, putting his hands on yours, pushing them flat against the arms of the chair. Theyâre warm and calloused, the same hand that had been on your face a few moments ago. âYouâre gonna hurt yourself. More than you already have been.â He lifts your left leg, making you groan quietly as a deep ache throbs down to your foot and up to your hip.Â
Running. A gunshot. Pain.
âHe had strict orders not to harm you.â Phil says, adjusting the bandage wrapped around your calf. âDonât worry. We got you all fixed up.â He sets your leg back down gingerly, his touch lingering for a moment before he looks back up at you.Â
âWhy?â You croak out, trying to make sense of what happened.Â
Corporal McKinney broke into the barracks and chased you into the woods. He shot you and drugged you and now youâre here, restrained in a chair staring at a man you havenât seen for years. A man who was once your dadâs best friend.Â
âA lot has happened since we saw each other last.â He says, pushing himself to stand. âI left the Marines after a few years, formed my own group of military contractors. Invited your dad to join, but you know how he is. All honor and duty and serving the country. Of course, you havenât seen him in quite a while, have you?âÂ
You stare up at him, starting to get scared. You never liked Phil. There was always something about him that put you off. He always stared too long, always sat too close to you. He always greeted you with a hug that lasted too long, squeezing you too tightly against him. He was sweet on you in a way he wasnât with anyone else. He could be intense, brash and almost downright rude sometimes. He was a firm believer in traditional packs too, even if he never spoke about his own pack, his own omega. He had to have one, if he was as dedicated as he said.Â
He was far too much like your father.Â
Phil was always kinder to you, though. Softer. Not quite as callous and bellicose as your father in public. He was polite, always happy to lend a hand, always glad to roughhouse with your brothers to get their energy out. You saw the way your mother looked at him though. Perhaps her apprehension bled into you, those dormant omega instincts picking up on something she was projecting.Â
He made you uncomfortable, and she knew it.Â
What could an omega do, though, in a world where they donât have opinions, they canât argue, they canât disagree. Your mother never said anything because in the world your family existed in, the world Phil existed in, she couldnât.Â
âHe was so angry when he called.â Phil continues, staring down at you. âRanting and raving about how his oldest daughter betrayed him by presenting as an omega. He couldnât stand having such a useless child in his perfect pack.â You flinch at his words, even though you heard your father spew those very words after your presentation firsthand.Â
âHe called you?â You ask, the pieces starting to come together as your brain finally snaps fully into awareness. You knew he called someone, but you hadnât thought it would ever be Phil.Â
âOf course.â Phil chuckles. âWe were good friends, pals, buddies. He knew I could help him.â A shiver runs down your spine. You know what heâs going to say next. âSo I did. I have some contacts in some high places, people who owe me favors. So I made some calls, pulled some strings, got you into FIOT immediately, with some strings attached of course.â He leans down so youâre almost face to face. âI wanted you. They put a note in your file. You wouldnât be placed in the registry when you were old enough, you would go to me and my pack.âÂ
Bile churns in your stomach as you process his words. It all makes sense now. The stares, the hugs, the closeness with your father, your rapid enrollment in an institute that can take weeks to process applications. It was all so you could be his. Something heâs wanted from early on.Â
âYou would have been mine,â He pushes himself up straight again, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. âIf the fucking CIA hadnât gotten involved!â You flinch as his voice raises, the frustration starting to darken his scent. âThey froze your file, made the claim null and void. All for what, their little initiative that never really existed in the first place?â He huffs out a laugh, a smirk tilting his lips. âSmall world, though. Who knew weâd be seeing each other again after so long.âÂ
He steps closer, looking down at you. You hold his gaze, suddenly feeling afraid. Even though you know him, even though you spent a good part of your childhood around him, youâre afraid of him right now. Your mind starts to revert back, the urge to lower your eyes, break eye contact like youâre supposed to flashing through your mind.Â
Donât stare alphas in the eyes. Theyâll take that as a challenge. Itâs not your job to challenge them. Your job is to be subservient.Â
You would have been subservient to him if the CIA hadnât gotten involved. You would have been under his control, bowing to him and his will. Youâd have pups by now, at least one. Heâd always talked about having a big pack with lots of pups someday, always glancing at you when he said it.Â
Youâre going to vomit all over him.Â
Itâs not just the truth that scares you, though. Youâre being held captive here. That thought has registered in your mind now, the reality settling in as you get over the shock of the last few minutes. Corporal McKinney kidnapped you from base, and now youâre restrained in a chair surrounded by unknown alphas. Phil isnât going to help you, take pity on you. Heâs not here to be nice, to have a little chat and catch up on life.
That possibly ended as soon as he was denied what he wanted.Â
His hand cups your chin, holding your face up as he looks down at you. His thumb is rough as it strokes your jaw, a tickling feeling starting in the back of your mind again. Thereâs an almost bittersweet look in his eyes as he holds your gaze. You refuse to lower it, refuse to give him that satisfaction. âYouâve grown up a lot.â He says, his hand sliding down your neck to the collar of your shirt. âYou always were cute, though. I knew early on you were going to be an omega. You were far too...calm and compliant compared to your brothers. Always so polite and eager to please. You can tell if you pay attention, you know. Those dormant instincts start to show themselves long before presentation.âÂ
His hand pulls your collar to the side, revealing your mark. His eyes harden as he stares at it, his lips turning down into a frown. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness in his scent intensifies. Heâs not holding you hostage just to tell you about what could have been, what direction your life might have taken. Heâs here for a reason, and you know your pack is involved. Something has happened, something behind the scenes, something John was looking into.Â
âWhatâs going on?â You ask as he releases your collar, taking a step back.Â
âWell, youâre being held hostage.â He says, like it isnât already obvious. âYouâre...shall we say...leverage to ensure your pack follows orders.âÂ
You blink at him. You havenât heard from or spoken to your pack in weeks. You should be relieved that theyâre apparently still alive, but what if you had been right and they donât want you anymore? Why would they take you if your pack has abandoned you? Or did they take you to ensure they wouldnât...
âLaswell stuck her nose somewhere it shouldnât have been.â Phil says, crossing his arms. âItâs only so long before your pack finds out. Letâs just say...theyâre not going to be happy about it. So, to ensure they donât do something impulsive and reckless as they are known to do, youâre going to play hostage.âÂ
You gulp as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Your scent spikes in the air, clouding it with the bitter scent of anxiety. It was the plan all along. You knew it even if you hadnât been told outright. Deep down youâve always known it wasnât about strengthening packs. It wasnât about studying how an omega would increase or decrease the efficiency of military packs. With the events of the last few months, the idea had started to form in your mind. You know you werenât alone in those thoughts. John and Simon were digging into the cameras for a reason. They were put up for a reason.Â
It was always about control.
That was the point of the initiative. That was why they put cameras up, that was why General Shepherd was so invested in the state of your pack and if you had been mated. He needed to ensure you were close enough to them so if something happened that wasnât supposed to, you could be used against them.Â
Youâre nothing more than leverage.Â
Your scent spikes in the air, clouding the room as reality sinks into you. Something happened that caused this. Something called your pack away to isolate you, to leave you vulnerable. They wanted you alone as a contingency.Â
Something did happen.Â
Now youâre here, being held captive by a man you used to know, a man who could have been your alpha had things not played out the way they did. The thought has your stomach churning. How far will they go? How far will Phil take things? Could he be merciful because of your history? Or will his ruined plan make him more ruthless?Â
Youâll be punished for something you canât control.Â
Phil makes a soft sound as he looks at you, shaking with fear in the chair. âDonât be scared. As long as your pack does as theyâre told, I wonât have to hurt you.â He turns the light back to face you, nearly blinding you. âNow, smile for the camera.âÂ
Theyâre safe.Â
It had been close. A rough position to be in, but they managed it. He never doubted them and their abilities, but four against nearly fifty with no backup were not good odds. Heâs been in tighter places before, and while he had his doubts, he is grateful Johnny and Simon were sent in when they were. Even if it was a bit suspicious.
âAll accounted for.â John says as he sinks down onto one of the jump seats next to Kyle.Â
Theyâre all battered and bruised from their final fight. Heâs ready to get home, ready to get back to you. From the sound of it, things were not going well, according to Johnny and Simon. He has a lot to make up for, a lot of apologies to make.Â
âFucking Russian PMCs.â He says, speaking to Kate over the comms. âItâs not a coincidence Kate.âÂ
Kate lets out a sigh that crackles through the comm. âNo, itâs not. My team and I came across some information while we were digging into the cameras.âÂ
âWhat information?â He asks slowly and carefully. He doesnât like being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to his pack. Especially when it comes to you.Â
âNot just information on the initiative, but information on General Shepherd.âÂ
âWhat information?â He asks again, slower this time as Johnny and Simon move in closer.Â
âShepherd was the one that sold those weapons to AQ and the Russians.âÂ
John looks at the other three members of his team. He knew something was wrong, something was off about the way Shepherd had acted while informing them about this mission. âHe wanted those missiles found and destroyed so he could cover his own ass.â He says, his stomach starting to twist. He doesnât like the way this is going.Â
âBut we found out the truth before you could find all the missiles.â Kate continues. âHe sent you on a wild goose chase to give himself a chance to escape.âÂ
Johnâs hand tightens into a fist. âWhere is he now?âÂ
âHeâs gone dark. Totally off radar.âÂ
John pushes himself up to stand, the adrenaline pumping again. âIâm going to find that bastard-âÂ
âJohn.â Kate says, cutting him off. âThereâs something else.âÂ
The twisting in his stomach intensifies. Thereâs a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind. He doesnât want to entertain the dark thoughts that are brewing. âWhat?âÂ
âThey took your omega.âÂ
His stomach clenches, his breath catching in his lungs. The other three shift on their feet, all of them stepping closer. The scent in the plane thickens, anger and confusion mixing into a toxic cocktail. He hopes he heard that wrong, that there was some kind of interference in the connection and his brain made up the words he missed. âRepeat that.âÂ
âThey took your omega.â Kate says again.
He lets out a long breath, his muscles tensing. Heâs had a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind for the last few days. Something was wrong, something was off. He should have known it was all a ruse. Why would AQ and the Russians store a missile in any of the places they had been sent to in the last week? It hadnât made sense, and he had wanted to voice his doubts, but the consequences of a missile being launched because they decided not to look in one place was greater than his own perceived doubts.Â
They had been right though.Â
Of course it had all been a plan. Of course there had been something fishy about it. Heâs hardly ever wrong. Heâs been praised on his instincts on the field and off. He should have known. Pulling Simon and Johnny when they did should have been enough evidence, even if they had been needed in the end.Â
âYouâre positive?â He knows she is. Thereâs no mistaking something like that, thereâs no doubting it.Â
âThereâs a video.â Kate says, Johnâs stomach dropping. âIâm sending it to you now.âÂ
John pulls out his phone, his fingers white as he holds it up. Heâs angry, beyond angry. If theyâve laid a hand on you...if youâve been hurt because of his own failings, his own inability to see the truth...
He clicks on the video when it comes in, a familiar face popping up on screen. âHi boys. Been a while.âÂ
âFucking Graves.â Johnny growls, his hands closing into fists in anger.Â
âI have a little something of yours I think you might be interested in.â He turns the camera around, your face popping up on screen. Youâre restrained in a chair, wrists red from the zip ties, but thereâs a glare on your face, looking as mean and threatening as you can. Thereâs a bruise on your cheek and what looks like a healing cut on your lip. Someone hit you.Â
âSmile for the camera.â Graves says, a bit too cheerfully.Â
You donât smile, your glare sharpening as the camera gets closer to your face. Thereâs still fight left in you. Whatever has happened hasnât been too bad. Yet.Â
âLetâs make this simple.â Graves says. âYou stay away from Shepherd, and I wonât have to hurt this pretty little face. She is pretty, isnât she?âÂ
You shift in the chair, your leg lifting before you kick outward.Â
âOw, you little bitch.â The camera jostles for a moment before itâs straightened back up, a hand shooting out to wrap around your throat. Thereâs no sign of any struggle, the glare still prominent on your face. âFeisty thing. Gotta keep up with those wild boys somehow.âÂ
The hand tilts your face just slightly, showing the mark on your neck. It is you, not that John doubted that from the beginning. It may have been almost two months, but he wouldnât forget your face that easily.Â
âLike I said,â Graves continues. âFollow your orders and sheâll be released unharmed.âÂ
The screen goes dark and John resists the urge to throw his phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, turning towards the wall of the plane. He throws his fist against the metal as hard as he can. It hurts, but he can barely feel it over the rage burning hot in him.Â
âFucking Shepherd!â He shouts, rearing back to throw his hand against the wall again.
Graves has his omega. Graves has his omega and now youâre being used as leverage. Theyâre all being played like puppets.Â
A hand catches his fist before he can punch the wall again, easing him back. âEasy.â Kyle says, trying to soothe him as best he can. âWe have proof of life, we know that sheâs alright for now.âÂ
âFor now.â He growls, looking around at the members of his team. âBut for how long?âÂ
âThey knew weâd go after Shepherd as soon as we learned the truth.â Simon says. âThis has been in the plans for a long time.â
âTheyâre trying to get us to make a choice. Focus on getting our omega back while letting Shepherd escape, or go after Shepherd and let our omega be tortured.â Kyle says.Â
âThose fuckinâ wankstains.â Johnny says, shifting on his feet. Heâs angry, the bitter scent filling the enclosed area of the plane. Theyâre all angry, angry at those responsible, and angry at themselves for falling for it. âThey were usinâ us the whole time.âÂ
John lets out a long breath. Itâs a hard decision to make. Go after Shepherd and cut the head off the snake, or go after you and let the person orchestrating all of this escape. Graves wonât stop, even if they do manage to take out Shepherd. He has his orders, and he will follow them, with or without Shepherd pulling the strings.
There might be a second contingency. They kill Shepherd, you die too.Â
No matter what, you wonât be safe. If they go after you, Shepherd escapes and if they try to hunt him down later, heâll use you again, or worse. They donât have to kill Shepherd, though. They have proof heâs a traitor. He can be brought to justice if heâs caught. Death is too gentle of a punishment for what heâs done. He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life.Â
They have to make sacrifices for the good of the world.Â
âWeâre going after Shepherd.â He says, taking a deep breath. âNone of us will be safe if we donât.âÂ
âThatâs dangerous, John.â Kate says. âWe donât know how far Shepherd or Graves will take this. You know how Graves is. He may not be able to be stopped, even if Shepherd tells him to.âÂ
He takes a second to breathe. His pack is silent, all three of them staring at him, waiting for him to make this decision. He is pack alpha, he is their Captain. They do what he tells them to do, follow his orders no matter what. Kate is right, this is a risk, but sacrifices have to be made. Hands have to be dirtied to keep the world clean.Â
He just hopes youâll forgive him.Â
âWeâre going after Shepherd.â John says definitely.Â
âThis is a bad idea, John.â Kate warns him.Â
âItâs the only option we have. Theyâre trying to draw us away. Itâs a risk we have to take.â He can see the apprehension on his packmateâs faces. Theyâre all feeling it, the drive to go after their omega, but deep down he is right. Theyâll never be safe until Shepherd is taken care of. Going after Graves only removes one small piece of the puzzle. The job always comes first.Â
âGet us locations, places he might try to dig in and hide.â He says, heading towards the cockpit. âWeâll find this arsehole and kill him ourselves.Â
***
Kate lets out a sigh as the comms close off. Itâs a mistake. She knows it is. The guilt is eating her alive. She fell for this, she brought you into this, and now you might get hurt because of it. How she didnât see the reality has shame burning through her. They were all blind, all led astray, all fooled by the red herring.Â
There was never an initiative. It was never about strengthening packs. It was always about control. They wanted a way to control packs. Shepherd knew if the secret ever came out, there would be no stopping the consequences. Legal or illegal, retribution would come for him if the truth was revealed.Â
This was his way of stopping it.Â
That's why the 141 were the guinea pigs.Â
They are the most dangerous threat to Shepherd, and he handed them a way to control them under the guise of strengthening packs, experimenting on how their dynamics and efficiency would shift with an omega added in. Even worse, they all fell for it.Â
John is making a mistake. Graves wonât stop so long as Shepherd knows theyâre coming after him. The last thing she wants is for you to get hurt because of their decisions, their mistakes. Shepherd wonât order Graves to kill you. Thatâs too much of a risk. It would give the 141 nothing to lose, and that would put them at their most dangerous.Â
Will Graves listen to that order?Â
She can send out a team to get eyes on Graves, find his position at least. That way, if things do take a turn, sheâll at least have a direction to point them in.Â
They were all too trusting and ignorant. Youâre innocent in all of this.Â
Itâs her fault.Â
Theyâre going to need help.Â
Christine canât sit still anymore. She can't take it. Itâs been almost eighteen hours since your disappearance and thereâs been nothing. No word, no news. She knows youâre alive. Kate had confirmed that, but that hasnât eased the burning questions eating away at her mind. What is your current state? Who took you and why? Where is your pack and are they even aware of whatâs happening?Â
Sheâs been sitting and twirling her thumbs. She canât bring herself to do any paperwork, any research. What is there to do besides sit and worry? She doesnât have a patient to take care of because she lost the one she was supposed to watch.Â
She huffs out a breath, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Kate. If Kate wonât call, sheâll call herself. Kateâs probably busy though, so Christine canât blame her too much for not calling. Sheâs probably so far from the front of Kateâs mind right now.Â
The phone rings twice before Kate answers, sounding tired and disheveled, just as much as Christine feels.Â
âLaswell.â
âKate, I need to be there.â She doesn't hold back, doesnât try to make small talk. Thereâs no time for it. She knows how Kate is doing, and itâs not great.Â
âChristine, I donât know if I can take that risk.â She says.Â
âI need to be there. I can't take sitting around here anymore, and when you find her, sheâs going to need someone she knows there, someone that knows how to take care of her.â Christine lets out a breath, the relief of getting her thoughts out taking some of the weight off her shoulders.Â
Kate sighs, but she has to know Christine is right. Sheâs not sure what state youâre in, and depending on how bad it is, and where your pack is, youâre going to need her. Even if you think she was behind this. âIâll have a plane ready to go in thirty minutes.âÂ
âThank you, Kate.â She says, letting out a sigh of relief.Â
âDonât miss the flight.âÂ
Christine hangs up, gathering a couple things from her office before closing and locking her door. She nearly runs to her barracks, packing a bag quickly. Sheâs not sure what to bring, or how long this will take. Sheâs not even sure exactly where sheâs going.Â
She hurries to the airfield, phone in hand. Sheâs not sure where the plane is or which one sheâs taking. Sheâs just relieved Kate is doing this for her.Â
Her phone buzzes as she reaches the tarmac, making her puse. She lets out an annoyed sigh before answering the call.Â
âOf course you have to call at the worst possible moment.â She says.Â
âIâve always had the worst timing.â Alexâs voice comes through the speaker, and she can almost hear the smile on his face.Â
âI canât talk long. Iâm about to board a plane.â She says.Â
âI know. Weâll pick you up on the tarmac.âÂ
She blinks in surprise. Itâs been years since sheâs seen her brother, months since sheâs spoken with him. Ever since he retired from Delta Force, his regular calls have been happening less and less, and theyâve reached near radio silence over the last couple years. Now heâs involved in this too?Â
âKate called in a favor.â He continues, and thatâs all she needs to know. âWeâll see you in a few hours.âÂ
âYeah.â She says, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiles. Despite everything, sheâs glad she gets to see her brother again. Glad she has some support in this. Your pack will be mad. Theyâll blame her. Sheâs not afraid of them, but she knows Alex will stand behind her no
**Content Warning: light torture, âmega gets punched, further injury to previous injuries, panic attack**
Your hands are starting to go numb. The constant attempts to free yourself from the zip ties isnât helping, but youâre beginning to get twitchy. Your omega is scratching at the back of your mind, begging to be free, but you know you wonât survive it. The room is full of armed mercenaries, and youâre sure if you tried to take out Phil first, youâd be pumped full of bullets before you could even do any damage.Â
Heâs leaning against the wall far too casually, staring at the phone heâd used to record the first video of you. His explanation had been simple. Your pack stops going after General Shepherd, you donât get hurt. The longer they chase Shepherd, the more Phil gets to torture you until they decide your life is worth more than Shepherdâs.Â
Will they choose you over Shepherd? What if theyâve already decided to abandon you? What if your fears were right and theyâve given up, and thatâs why they were gone so long? They wonât care what happens to you, if they have written you off as a burden, as a loss. Theyâll let Phil torture you to death and they wonât even blink an eye. Youâll just be another casualty.Â
It makes your stomach hurt, the idea of your pack letting you die. Even the idea of someone who had once been a friend of your family being so cold towards you has nausea bubbling in your belly. He doesnât care. His only worry is money, not the past. He doesnât care. Heâll do the bidding of whoever offers the highest price.Â
He lets out a sigh, pocketing his phone as he pushes himself off of the wall. âLooks like your boys donât follow orders well.â He bends down, putting his hands on his knees so heâs face to face with you. âTheyâve decided to leave you here with me. Looks like Shepherd was wrong. They donât really care about you as much as everyone thought they did. Makes me sad, them abandoning you so easily.âÂ
You try to ignore his words, try to convince yourself heâs doing it on purpose, trying to mentally break you. Yet you canât deny those words play exactly into your doubts, your fears. Have they really left you here, choosing Shepherd over you? Would they decide to do that? How easy had that decision been made? Â
Tears blur your vision as you stare up at Phil, your eyes burning as you try to put on the bravest face you can. You wonât let him have the satisfaction of knowing heâs getting to you, playing into your fears.Â
âUnfortunately, that means I have to hurt you.â He stands up straight, staring down at you for a moment before pulling his fist back, hitting you across the face.Â
You see stars for a moment, your head snapping to the side. The left side of your face is numb, the taste of metal flooding over your tongue. Youâre bleeding, blood pooling in your mouth. A hand grips your chin, pulling you back so youâre sitting up straight in the chair. You stare up at Phil, the fear fading away to anger as you glare up at him. Your face is throbbing, and you know itâs going to swell and bruise later, more than it already has thanks to Corporal McKinney.Â
Traitorous bastard.Â
They all are.Â
âI do feel bad for hurting that pretty face.â He says, stroking your jaw with his thumb.Â
The movement is impulsive, the anger becoming too much. You spit the blood in your mouth in his face, the droplets splattering across his skin. He turns his head away for a moment, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the blood.Â
âThat wasnât very nice.â He says, looking down at you.Â
âFuck you, you fucking creep!â You yell, kicking at him with your bad leg.Â
He releases your face, catching your leg easily. He pushes his thumb against the bullet wound, all the fight leaving you as pain tears through your body. You let out a scream, trying to pull your leg away but he wonât let you. He holds his thumb there as you scream, the tears streaming down your face.Â
âOkay, okay please! Please stop!â You beg, the pain radiating up into your hip and side. You canât take it anymore, your brain starting to go fuzzy as you hyperventilate.Â
He releases your leg, his hand wrapping around your throat to lift your face. The tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood from the cut on your cheek. Thereâs no sympathy, not even regret in his eyes as he stares down at you.Â
âI donât want to hurt you, but if you canât behave, Iâll have to do just that.â He releases you as you continue to hyperventilate, your eyes starting to glaze. Youâre distressing. Will Phil help you? Will he do what he has to do to keep you alive? If you die, there wonât be anything stopping your pack. The entire plan will be over. Theyâll go after Shepherd, then theyâll hunt down Phil.Â
Cold ice water hits you in the face, shocking you back into clarity. Phil is holding the cup of water heâd been letting you drink from periodically. You blink at him as water drips into your eyes, your breaths hitching but far slower than they had been. Youâre awake and aware now.Â
You didnât even know it was possible to do that.Â
âDonât distress on me now.â He says, putting the cup down. âWe have so much ahead of us.â He moves around to the back of your chair, bending down until his breath hits your ear. âBesides, you make me help you out of distress, I might not be able to stop myself.âÂ
Your eyes pinch closed as his lips brush the shell of your ear before he stands back up, tears mixing with the icy water still sliding down your face.Â
Christine nearly runs down the ramp once the plane has stopped on the runway. Sheâs jet lagged and worn out after eight hours of worrying, but sheâs eager not only to finally get some news on you and your status, but to see her brother for the first time in a long time.Â
Itâs not hard to find him.Â
âChrissy!â He grins, hugging her tightly.Â
She has half a mind to complain about the nickname sheâd endured her entire childhood, but she canât find it in her as she hugs her brother tightly. Sheâs missed him, more than she realized. Their jobs have kept them busy, her with her medical studies and practice, and Alex with...whatever it is he does.Â
âItâs been far too long.â She says, pulling away from him. Sheâd love to stand there and hug him for an hour, but she canât. They have more important things to do. Time is of the essence, if her worst fears are true.Â
âA lot has happened, a lot has changed.â He says.Â
She looks him over, spotting the more noticeable changes in comparison to the last time they were face to face. âYou could say that.âÂ
âWe can talk about it later.â He turns to the other person with him, a woman. âChristine, this is Farah.â He introduces her. âFarah, this is my baby sister Christine.âÂ
âNice to meet you.â Farah says, shaking her hand.Â
âYou as well.â Christine looks between them for a moment. She knows that look in Alexâs eyes as he looks at Farah.Â
âWe should get moving.â Farah says, ignoring him.Â
âLaswell has moved off the grid.â Alex says, opening the driverâs side of the SUV.Â
Smart, if things are as bad as she thinks they are.Â
Christine gets into the back, letting out a long breath. Sheâs closer now to finding out whatâs happened to you. The guilt is still eating her alive. If she just hadnât left, if she hadnât believed the phone call, put it above your safety.Â
Things might have been worse if she had stayed.Â
âKate filled us in about everything.â Alex says as he drives away from the airfield. âAt least in regards to the pack and your involvement.âÂ
âThereâs some things sheâs not telling us.â Farah says. âThough if things are as bad as they sound, I donât blame her.âÂ
âI donât know much of anything.â Christine says, staring out the window as they drive out of the city. âI feel like itâs my fault. If I hadnât left her alone...âÂ
âItâs hardly your fault.â Alex says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. âIf this was all planned, there wouldnât have been anything that would stop it from happening.âÂ
âThey might have done worse if you had stayed there.â Farah says, speaking Christineâs own fears aloud.Â
âI wish I could see her. Make sure sheâs alright.â Christine says. âIf something happens to her...âÂ
âFrom what I hear sheâs a hardy omega.â Alex says, trying to comfort her. âSheâs withstood a lot. She can survive the 141, sheâs probably giving them hell as we speak.âÂ
**Content Warnings: light torture, choking to the point of almost passing out, blood, very detailed descriptions of pain, non-fatal stabbing**
Itâs getting hard to breathe. Philâs grip around your throat is getting tighter and tighter, less and less oxygen getting to your bloodstream and your brain. Your mouth has an almost permanent metallic taste as blood drips down your chin. Blood stains Philâs arm from where you bit him, teeth marks red and angry looking from where they broke the skin.Â
âYou fucking bitch.â He growls, jaw clenched. âYour alpha should have taught you some manners.âÂ
His hand squeezes tighter, cutting the air off entirely. You begin to panic, tugging against the restrains with your raw, cut up wrists. Black dots begin to dance in your vision, your legs straining against the zip ties keeping them attached to the chair. Your hands and feet are going numb, your entire body tingling. This is it. Youâre going to be choked to death.Â
He holds his hand there for a moment, letting you struggle before he lets go and you suck in a gasp of air. You slump over in the chair, blood splattering on the floor as you cough, your throat raw and sore. Tears burn in your eyes as you heave, trying to get the oxygen flowing through your body again.Â
Phil bends down to your level as you sit there, head hanging as blood drips from your mouth. Your tongue is raw from how many times youâve bitten it. Itâs impossible to tell how much time has really passed. Thereâs no windows in the room. The only light source is the cracks around the door behind you. Even then with the bright light in your face constantly, itâs hard to tell anything anymore.Â
âFeisty still, but everyone has their limits.â His hand cups your chin as he stands, lifting your face to follow him. His hand holds the back of your head up as he wipes at the blood under your nose and on your chin almost gently.Â
Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare up at him, unable to even care anymore that his hand is so close to your neck. All he has to do is move it down just slightly and squeeze and youâll be unaware of anything around you, at the mercy of his bidding.Â
That would almost be a relief.Â
He dumps another icy cup of water over your head, keeping you from slipping too much into a panic. The cold water stings the cut on your chest and the one on your arm as it slides down your shoulders. Youâve lost the ability to feel the throbbing in your calf, numb to most of the pain in your body.Â
Why havenât they come for you? Where is your pack?Â
Have they written you off for good? Was finding Shepherd more important than you?Â
Philâs phone goes off, your stomach dropping. He stares at the screen for a second before turning back to you.Â
You shake your head, the tears cascading down your cheeks. âNo,â You start to shake. âNo, please-âÂ
âYou know I have to, darlinâ.â He moves behind you, tugging on your hair to keep your head up as one of his men stands in front of you with a phone in hand.Â
He counts down on his fingers before pressing record.Â
âSeems you boys still canât follow orders. Your omega sure wishes you would.â Phil says as he reaches around your head, holding your chin in his hand. He tilts your head back making you look up at him. âDonât you, darlinâ. Tell them. Tell them how much you wish theyâd follow orders.âÂ
Youâre still crying, unable to stop as you stare at the camera. They really have given up on you. Theyâve deemed you unworthy of saving. Theyâve let you sit here and be beat up and tortured all because they put the job first.Â
They really have given up on you.Â
Are they even watching?Â
âPlease,â You croak out, half begging your pack to care, half begging Phil to have mercy.Â
âSince you canât seem to bring yourselves to care about your own omega,â He shifts slightly, someone handing him something behind you. You catch a glint of metal, your heart rate picking up. Youâre panicking, breaths coming in shaky gasps. You know he can do worse. Heâs threatened worse, but what is he going to do? âIt seems you need a little more...motivation.âÂ
You try to wiggle out of his grasp in panic, wrists bleeding again from tugging at the zip ties. Theyâre coated in your blood, your leg throbbing but you donât care. You need to get away, get free. âNo, no-â
You let out a scream.Â
Itâs sharp and piercing, but nowhere near the sharp pain in your neck. It fires through your very nerve endings, making you aware of the very cells in your body. It shoots up into your brain, igniting every neuron in your brain. Your very blood feels like itâs boiling, your skin on fire from the pain. Every inhale feels like youâre breathing in sand, and every exhale is like glass shards dragging through your lungs and up your throat. The tears streaming down your face may as well be slicing through layers of skin, every wound pulsing and throbbing with a new kind of angry vengeance.Â
Youâre sobbing, nearly choking on air as the pain continues to pulse in your body. Itâs too much, every sensation inside and outside of your body meshing together in an agonizing harmony.Â
âShhh.â Phil tries to shush you as he bends down, his cheek resting against the side of your head. âI know, I know. Youâll be alright.â He presses a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go limp in the chair.Â
Your scream still hangs in the air even after the video ends.Â
Itâs otherwise silent in the room, all eight of them feeling the weight of their decisions on their shoulders. The scents in the air are full of pain and regret and guilt and anger.Â
âWas that fatal?â Kate asks, breaking the tense silence.Â
âNo.â Christine chokes out, her voice shaky. Her hands are trembling where theyâre tucked against her sides. Her arms are crossed over her chest, trying to bring herself some kind of comfort after what she had just watched. âHe went for the scent gland. Itâs not a fatal injury, unless you go too deep, but he knew what he was doing.â She swallows the lump in her throat. âItâs just incredibly painful.âÂ
Her words hang in the air for a moment, all of them still trying to process what they had just seen.Â
John slams his hands on the table, all of them jumping. âI fucking told you.â He says, his voice laced with the deep growl of his alpha. âI fucking told you Kate, she should have been flown out here as soon as you made the call.âÂ
âI know.â Kate says, undeterred by his anger. Sheâs seen it many times, though sheâs rarely been on the receiving end of it. âI know, I made a bad call. None of us knew they would take it this far.âÂ
âBut we knew something was going on behind the scenes.â John says, still radiating anger. âAll precautions should have been taken.âÂ
âThere was no guarantee her being here would have stopped them. She might not have been any safer here.â Kate says, trying to ease his anger, even though she knows itâs completely warranted. âThis goes far deeper than we thought it did. Even before this plan was set into motion.â She waits a moment, letting the air settle. âA year ago, a convoy was smuggling missiles and other weapons into the Middle East in an off-the-books operation. The convoy was attacked and the missiles and arms were stolen by a Russian PMC group. The operation was conducted under the command of Shepherd, and the soldiers in the convoy were all Shadow Company.âÂ
âThatâs how Graves is tied into this.â Kyle says.Â
âIt goes deeper than that.â Kate says, pulling up a file and displaying it on screen. âThe missiles and weapons being smuggled werenât being sent to aid allies in the Middle East. Shepherd sold them to AQ and the Russians. The PMC group that attacked Shadow Company was hired by Shepherd to make it look like an ambush.âÂ
âFucking weasel.â Simon growls.Â
âI donât know how much Graves knows, or how much he helped hide the entire operation, but his ties to this go even deeper.â Kate says, and they all shift closer. âGraves has history with your omega.â She says, pulling up an old photo. âWe combed through one of her brothersâ Facebook pages. Found an old photo of her dad with Graves. They served on the same base when her family lived in Texas before Graves left to join MARSOC. She would have still been a child at the time.âÂ
They stare at the photo, Graves clearly identifiable as he stands next to another man, beers in their hands. Thereâs two other boys in the photo, young and grinning at the camera. Standing in front of Graves is a little girl, a happy grin on her face. Theyâre all in various combinations of red, white, and blue.Â
4th of July, they assume.Â
âThatâs how she got into the institute so fast.â John says, staring at the photo. Heâs never seen a photo of your father before. You must take after your mother. âGraves pulled the strings.âÂ
Kate nods. âHe did, but under the condition he would be the one to claim her when she grew old enough. The CIA wiped out that claim when they froze her file.âÂ
The 141 all shift on their feet, sharing looks. John feels a sick twisting in his stomach at the implications. Your position in the photo suddenly makes sense. Anger burns in him, deep and bubbling like magma. Heâll kill the bastard.Â
âThis is revenge then.â Johnny says.Â
âIn a way, I think.â Kate says. âWe took away what he wanted. Graves wasnât going to pass up this opportunity. Heâs not afraid to get his hands dirty.âÂ
âThis all is what the initiative was created for.â Christine says, leaning against the table. âA contingency in case this all was uncovered.âÂ
âA way to control us.â Kyle says.Â
Kate nods. âYes. It was all a plan to give the 141 a weakness, a way to be controlled should the situation arise. In this case it just so happened to be the uncovering of his traitorous arms deals.âÂ
âWe were all pawns in this.â Christine says.Â
âWe let them walk right in and take control like that.â John says, turning to Christine. âYou let them walk in and take our omega.âÂ
She turns to face him, undeterred by his agitation and anger. âI did what I thought was right at the time. I got a call from one of the front desk workers in the med center saying that someone was waiting in my office for me.â She explains. âThey wouldnât say who it was, and the whole thing felt off. I knew whoever would be visiting me was not going to be friendly, so I felt it was safer to leave her in the barracks than take her with me and risk something happening in a place she doesnât know well. In the barracks at least sheâd know places to hide and barricade herself.âÂ
She takes a deep breath, still facing down John fearlessly. Heâs coiled tight like a spring, ready to jump at any moment should he deem it necessary. Itâs those protective instincts, the knowledge that his omega is somewhere else, taken unwillingly and being tortured feeding into that need to fight.Â
âMy office door was open when I got there.â She continues. âI always leave it locked. I went in prepared to fight, but I was attacked from behind. Hit over the head and drugged with something fast acting, something that would keep me incapacitated long enough for him to strike.â She stares up into his eyes, projecting her scent just a bit to try and get him to calm down. âWe all made mistakes here, things we thought were the right choice at the time.âÂ
Sheâs not wrong. They all know it. They had just seen proof of it. Â
âThe assailant?â John asks, turning back to Kate.Â
âCorporal McKinney.â Kate says. âHe was in Shepherdâs pocket from the start. Someone who could watch first-hand. Someone who could sneak into the barracks unnoticed without many questions. He was likely the one that put the cameras up.âÂ
âFucking wanker.â Simon growls. âHe approached her once in the mess. Early on. Tried to introduce himself to her. Backed off as soon as I intervened. Never tried again, at least that we know of.âÂ
âShe never mentioned him.â Christine says. âOr anyone else on base that might have tried to approach her.âÂ
âWhere is he now?â Kyle asks. Theyâre all angry, frustrated. How had they not seen this happening?Â
âLocal police tracked his car to an abandoned airfield not far outside of Hereford.â Kate says. âHe was dead inside. Police ruled it suicide.âÂ
âIâm sure it was.â John says.Â
They all know it wasnât.Â
âShadow Company likely picked her up from there with orders to stage a suicide.â Kate says.Â
âOne less loose string to worry about.â Simon says. âCovers their tracks in England.âÂ
They all go quiet. How this had all happened right under their noses? Theyâre all guilty of falling for it, for being too trusting in a world they know they canât be too careful in. Allies can turn on a dime and become enemies. Betrayals can be easily bought. Things can turn downhill within a blink of an eye. Theyâre supposed to be prepared for the worst, ready for every possibility.Â
They had written this off as a conspiracy, and now their omega is paying for it.Â
âWe need a plan.â Farah says, breaking the silence.Â
âWe canât let Shepherd get away.â John says.Â
âWe cannae just leave her.â Johnny argues against his alpha. Itâs a brave thing, considering his alphaâs current mental state. Â
âI donât know how much more she can take.â Simon backs his beta up, the desperation and pain on your face still visible in all of their minds.Â
âLet us go after Shepherd.â Alex says, offering up a solution. âHeâs obviously watching for you to come after him.âÂ
âWe can move undetected.â Farah agrees. âHeâs less likely to expect us. You need to focus on your omega. Shepherd will show himself again eventually.âÂ
âDo we have a lead on their location?â Kyle asks, turning back to Kate.Â
She nods. âWe do now. I sent a team out to try and track location through the videos and where they were being sent from.â She pulls a map up on screen. âWe have a location.âÂ
âTexas.â Alex says.Â
âHe took her home.â Christine says.Â
âWe have a plan then. We go after Graves, Farah and Alex start tracking Shepherd. Kate is eyes in the sky for us.â John says.Â
âSheâs going to need medical attention as soon as possible.â Christine says. She looks at Kate. âWhere is the nearest military base from their location?âÂ
Kate types on her computer. âNaval Air Station Joint Reserve Base in Fort Worth.âÂ
âGet me there and Iâll be waiting. Sheâs going to need someone she knows.â She says, looking at John. âSheâs not going to just let anyone close to her after this. She may not even let you close.âÂ
John stares down at her for a long moment. She stares back unflinchingly. She doesnât get intimidated easily, not after years of dealing with institutes and alphas alike.Â
He lets out a breath, staring down at her for a long moment before he nods. âI trust you.âÂ
âShort reunion this time.âÂ
âIâm just glad I got to see your face again.â Christine says, looking up at Alex.Â
âThings are...complicated.â He says. âMaybe after all of this is over we can go and get some coffee. Talk about our lives...as much as we can.âÂ
The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile. âIâll hold you to that.âÂ
Alex pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly. âYouâre doing good work, Chrissy.âÂ
She shakes her head at the nickname, but she holds him just as tightly. âIâm trying to.âÂ
Alex pulls away, squeezing her arms. âIâd say you are. You care a lot. To the point some might call it a character defect.âÂ
She scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. âNot like youâre much better.â She glances at the car where Farah is waiting patiently. âIâm happy for you.âÂ
âOh, weâre....â Alex blushes to his ears. âWeâre not...âÂ
She gives him a look. âMhm sure.â She looks up at him one more time. âBe safe.âÂ
âAs best I can.â He says. âTake care of yourself. Donât be too hard on yourself either.âÂ
âI try not to be.â She squeezes his hand before stepping away.Â
She watches the SUV drive off, stomach churning with nerves for both of them. Shepherd is dangerous, but Alex has fearlessly faced down danger since he was a kid. Heâs always been brave and determined, loyal and unafraid to do what he thinks is right no matter what. She trusts him to take care of himself, she trusts Farah to help him, even if she only met the woman today.Â
She trusts them both to take care of each other. She trusts them both to help put an end to this.Â
**Content Warning: Blood, vomiting, 'mega forces herself into a panic attack**
Your body aches, muscles screaming. You canât take much more. Your cheek throbs painfully, swollen to the point you almost canât see out of your left eye. The pain burning from your neck makes the other pain in your body nearly irrelevant, nearly nonexistent. Itâs like electricity, burning through your very cells. Every movement seems to make it flare, makes the electric shock jolt through you. The burning pain that follows makes you whimper, a pathetic choking sound squeaking out from your bruised throat.Â
The pain makes you nauseous, vomit staining the front of your shirt and pants. Itâs mostly bile and the little food youâve gotten since your kidnapping.Â
Nutrient bars, meant to keep you fed and nourished for a short period of time.Â
You may never be able to eat them again.Â
âFuck.â Graves curses, staring at his phone. âTheyâve backed off.â He steps up to you, looking down on your pathetic form. âLooks like your boys do care about you after all.âÂ
Do they? Are they really coming for you, or have they simply given up chasing Shepherd because they lost all their leads. Will they come for you, or will they leave you here to rot? What will Graves do then? Try to take you as his own omega? Kill you out of anger?Â
Your stomach churns and you can feel the bile rising.Â
You vomit again, the warm liquid splashing into your lap. You canât lean far enough anymore, not without the risk of not being able to pull yourself back up, not with the pain burning your every movement. You canât even lift your head anymore, your body weak and battered and bruised. Thereâs blood everywhere, on you and on the floor. You can still taste it in your mouth, mixing with the sourness of bile.Â
Graves gives you a disgusted look before turning to the others in the room. âDuran, Lewis, keep watch. The rest of you come with me.âÂ
He leaves the room for the first time in what you assume is days. For once the cocktail of scents begins to disperse, all but two of the alphas finally disappearing. Where theyâre going or what theyâre going to do, you donât know. You canât bring yourself to care either way. You just want to go home. You want to see your mother again, your brothers and sisters, even your father would be a welcome sight after this. You want your alpha, you want him to hold you, to take you in his arms, keep you safe.
He abandoned you. He left you to suffer like this.Â
Your breathing picks up as you sit there, chin to chest as you stare at your bloody shirt. The smells in the room are awful, the scents no longer there to block out the sour bile and metallic stench blood. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, pink tinted splatters dripping onto your pants. What are you going to do now? What are they going to do to you now? Will they keep you alive long enough for your pack to arrive then kill you in front of them? Will they torture them too, make them watch as the life slowly leaves your eyes in revenge for chasing after Shepherd?Â
A sob rips through your sore throat up out of your lips.Â
You just want to go home.Â
You just want to be free.Â
You can be.Â
Distress. The final defense. The last ditch effort omegas have to save themselves. Distress will lead to your omega taking over, and if nothing else, a quiet death you wonât even realize is happening. Your body will give out and youâll be safely tucked into the back of your brain, comforted by your instincts. You wonât have to worry anymore. You wonât have to care.Â
If nothing else, the pain will be over.Â
Iâm sorry.Â
You begin to breathe heavier, ignoring the pain in your body as you push yourself to hyperventilate. The alphas behind you might do something, might try to stop it. They could, but would they even know how? Would it even work if you got too far? Theyâre not your alpha. They canât comfort you, bring you back from the edge without forcing you. Will they even bother?Â
You tilt your head to the side, putting pressure on your injured scent gland. You sob at the pain, the burning flowing straight into your very cells, making them scream. You push through it, your wrists twisting against the zip ties, digging them further into your already damaged wrists. The pain pushes you to a point of panic, your heart rate through the roof. You can feel it, the tightening of your muscles, your joints locking into place.Â
Youâve never done it purposefully before, but in this state, itâs not hard.Â
They left you. Theyâve abandoned you. Theyâve given up. Itâs all your fault they left. Theyâre not coming for you. Youâre not worth it.Â
The thoughts send you down the spiral, the edges of your vision starting to go dark. Youâre floating away, hands and feet going numb as your wheezing, shallow breaths block the oxygen from getting to your brain. Youâre sinking, your body floating as you begin to retreat into the back of your mind. The cage is open, your omega soothing you as you drift off, curling up in the back recesses of your mind.Â
Youâre safe now. She whispers.Â
Thereâs no going back.Â
Youâre going to get out.Â
Even if you have to do it yourself.Â
The last breath you remember taking is shaky, making you cough before your vision begins to fade to grey, then to black. Youâre getting out of here no matter what. Youâre going to go to sleep. If you fail, youâll never know it. Your death will be quick and gentle and youâll never know it happened until youâve moved on to whatever is next.Â
You wonât remember any of this. Thatâs your only consolation.Â
Your vision fades to black as all memory and awareness leaves you. The last thing you remember is the snap of the zip ties around your wrists as they break.Â
âGraves has moved with some of his men to the western building. Itâs likely the hostage is being held in the eastern building. Gaz and I will go after Graves. Ghost and Soap will try to secure the hostage.âÂ
âKeller is on her way to NAS JRB as we speak. Theyâre on standby for medevac.âÂ
âStealth is our priority. They know weâre here, we risk losing the hostage. Quick and quiet, take them by surprise. The faster we do this, the sooner it will all be over.âÂ
**Content Warning: blood and slight gore, someone gets shot offscreen, some gorey and explicit imagery towards the end**
Heâs not unfamiliar with high stakes missions. Itâs his specialty. Heâs cool and calm under stress and pressure, which is why he gets chosen for them. He can detach easily, get the job done and then go home and forget.Â
So why are his hands shaking?Â
This isnât a high stakes mission, not like one heâs used to doing. The stakes are higher, higher than heâs ever had before. Itâs not just eliminating some faceless target, itâs not just rescuing some faceless hostage.Â
Itâs rescuing you.Â
He hates that you were involved in all of this. He hates that they all fell for it, blind to the truth, blind to Shepherdâs traitorous actions. They refused to entertain those conspiratorial thoughts, and now youâre paying for it. He knows why Price made the decision he did, he understands the logic behind it.Â
He hated it, though.Â
How far would Graves have taken it if they had chosen to go after you first. Would things have gotten this bad? Or would he still have hurt you, tortured you just out of sheer anger for what happened between the two of you? He wouldnât give up just because Shepherd told him to stop. Heâs ruthless and uncaring of who he hurts and why. He gets his orders and he completes them, no matter what, so long as whoever is giving those orders can pay a high enough price.Â
How much did he get for this assignment? How much did he settle for once he learned you were involved?Â
Far too much despite that fact, most likely. Maybe he should become a merc. Less rules and more money.
Itâs not a bad idea.Â
He lasers his focus on the building as they creep through the trees, moving silently. Two against however many are inside. It was impossible to tell with how many were moving between the two buildings constantly.Â
He brought the whole squad. He planned on putting up a fight regardless.Â
At least they have the element of surprise on their hands.Â
âWe move silently through the building.â He says as they approach the door. Thereâs two guards standing outside. âThey know weâre inside, things could go downhill quickly.âÂ
âOn you, LT.â Johnny says, taking point beside him.Â
âDrop one, Iâll take the other.â He says, aiming at one of the two Shadows guarding the door.Â
Itâs quick and quiet, their bodies slumping onto the damp dirt. Simon scans the area before moving forward to the door. Itâs unlocked, Johnny pushing it open slowly to check for a trip wire.Â
None.Â
Sloppy, or perhaps on purpose. They canât be too careful. Shepherd will have let Graves know theyâre not on his trail anymore. Heâll be expecting them.Â
They split up, combing the bottom floor of the building. He takes out two more Shadows, checking every room for a sign of their target, but they find none.Â
âSecond floor.â He says, waiting at the base of the stairwell for Johnny to join him.Â
âYou think sheâs in here?â Johnny asks as they creep up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise.Â
âWell, weâll find out.âÂ
Itâs far too unguarded to where theyâre holding you. Graves will have assumed theyâd split up. He must have moved most of his men to the western building to put up as much of a barricade as possible. He can picture Graves standing there, the smirk on his face as he holds a gun to your head. Will he take that risk, shoot you in front of them and give them nothing to live for? Or will he use a knife, letting you die a slow, painful death in front of them?Â
Or, maybe he moved them to the western building to make them think thatâs where you are. Focus their attacks there so they leave you behind. He gets cornered, he send the word to kill you before any of them can get to you.Â
More red herrings.Â
He pauses before he reaches the top of the steps, taking out the shadow standing down the hallway. They split up again, looking through rooms at the top of the stairs, making their way down the hallway.Â
One of the doors is open, and he silently motions for Johnny. He counts down silently in his head before rounding the corner, rifle up as he scans the room. His stomach churns as he looks inside, taking a couple cautious steps forward. Heâs seen a lot of things in his time, done a lot of things, but this is different.Â
âScreaming Jesus.â Johnny says, lowering his rifle as he steps in behind Simon.Â
Thereâs blood everywhere.Â
Itâs coating the floors, leaving a sticky residue as it dries. Itâs the room you were in. He recognizes it from the video, and the bright light in the corner is a dead giveaway. The chair in the middle of the room has been broken, the wood of the arms snapped off and splintered. Thereâs four bloody zip ties on the floor, along with several instruments on the floor including the ice pick.Â
He wants to shove that into Gravesâ eye for what he did to you.Â
Thereâs two bodies on the floor, one of them dead in a pool of his own blood, the other choking as blood seeps onto the floor under him. He steps up to the shadow, putting his boot on his chest and pushing. The Shadow lets out a groan, coughing up blood.Â
âWhere the fuck is she?â He growls, staring down at the quickly paling face.Â
âFucking bitch went crazy.â He chokes out. âWent running.âÂ
Simon steps back, pulling out his handgun and firing two bullets into the Shadowâs head.Â
âPrice, we found the room.â He says into his comm. âThe hostage isnât here. A half-dead Shadow said she bolted.âÂ
âLT.â Johnny says, motioning to the door, the only other exit from the room. Thereâs a bloody handprint on the door, one too small to be one of the Shadowsâ.Â
âI think she managed to get out.â He says, staring at the handprint. His stomach drops, his hand tightening around his rifle. He glances down at the bodies, throats cut and faces bloody. âI think her omega took over.âÂ
âYou and Soap go after her. Sheâll do the one thing she knows to do, the one instinctual thing she can do if she has nothing to fight.â Price says. âWeâve got Graves cornered.âÂ
Simon pushes the door open, cool air flowing into the stuffy room. Thereâs bloody shoe prints heading down the stairs. He can see the rapid turn on the concrete below before they head off towards the trees.Â
âIâve got a trail.â He says.Â
âGo.â Price says. âSimon...you know what you have to do.âÂ
He does.
He motions for Johnny to follow before hurrying down the stairs. The longer they delay, the further youâll get. He doesnât doubt some Shadows followed you if you made that much of a ruckus. The more time they waste, the more dangerous things get, and not just because they might lose you or the shadows might catch up.Â
He races towards the treeline, rifle in hand, but thereâs no one else standing guard. Price and Gaz will have taken care of those in the other building, and those that were outside probably went after you.Â
He slows once they break the treeline, trying to catch any hint of your scent that might be left. His only hope is that youâve left a trail. Heâs a tracker, he knows what heâs doing. His senses are stronger, more in tune. He can find you. He can track you down. He has to.Â
The guilt is eating him alive. If something happens to you, heâll never forgive himself. Heâs right here, so close and yet so far. Youâre running on borrowed time and thereâs only so much of it left. Eventually you have to slow, eventually your body will start giving up. Will it be too late then? If a Shadow finds you when you canât fight back...
âDead Shadow ahead.â Johnny says, motioning to the slumped over body ahead of them. âWeâre on the trail.âÂ
âLetâs hope she left more markers on the way.â He says, kicking the Shadow, but the stab wound in his neck is all Simon needs to know. âKeep going straight.â He says, continuing on the path theyâve been following. He needs just a whiff, a hint of your scent. Something.Â
They come across another dead Shadow, this one off to the side of the path they had been following. He turns, making an adjustment before moving forward. Johnny keeps close, both of them watching for more Shadows, or for any glimpse of you. All they can hope is theyâre on the right path.Â
He nearly sets off in a run as he hears a sound ahead. Itâs a yowl, almost like a mountain lion. It sends a tingle down his back, his alpha blaring warning alarms. A threatened omega is a dangerous thing. Fierce and protective of themselves, capable of great feats and lethal if you get too close.Â
Itâs you, no doubt.Â
Price had been right.Â
He has no choice.Â
He pushes forward, his steps quick as he makes his way through the bushes. He spots you near a boulder, trying to fight off a Shadow. Heâs got the upper hand, using his size against you. Youâre getting tired, your movements slowing. Simon aims with his rifle, a shot to the head dropping the Shadow. You drop into a crouch, surveying the trees. Youâre covered in blood, a knife in your hand as your wild eyes search for them.Â
âDistract her.â He says to Johnny. âMake yourself as unthreatening as possible. Iâll go around and get her from behind.âÂ
He doesnât even wait for an acknowledgement before heâs moving, slipping around to the side of the boulder. Johnny steps into the clearing slowly, holding his hands up, talking to you quietly.
âEasy, kitten. Ye know who I am.â Johnny is careful not to get too close, his steps slow as he moves to the side, getting you to turn. âWeâre just here to help ye. Get ye home and safe.âÂ
Youâre holding the knife up, brandishing it at Johnny. Simon isnât sure if youâve ever thrown a knife before, but he doesnât put it past you to try in this state.Â
He hopes Johnnyâs reflexes are fast enough.Â
He slips out from behind the boulder as you pause, wasting no time as he races up behind you and grabbing you before you can bolt or go for Johnnyâs neck. You let out another yowl, struggling against him as he wraps an arm around your chest. Your teeth sink into his arm and he lets out a curse, but he doesnât let go. He lets go, they wonât get another chance. Itâll be too late.Â
He doesn't want to do it. His mind flashes back to his father and mother, one of the few times his mother fought back. It hadnât lasted long before her body went limp, practically a ragdoll in his fatherâs hold. Simon had grabbed Tommy and ran, barricading them in his room. They didnât want to see what was going to happen next.Â
He doesnât want that kind of control over you, he doesnât want to put you through that trauma. The disorientation, the fear, the confusion. That must have been what it felt like after being sedated during your heat. You had been sick for days, crying in Johnnyâs room. He had heard every sob, every attempt to soothe you.Â
He put you through that. He made you face that down despite the fear on your face as Johnny escorted you to the med center.Â
And now he has to do it again.Â
He has to this time. He has no choice. His only other option is to let you die. Price will never forgive him. Johnny wonât even look at him again. Heâd betray them worse than you did, worse than Shepherd, worse than Graves.Â
You never really betrayed them in the first place, though.Â
You were afraid, untrusting of them, unsure because of your past. He had been foolish to blame you, foolish to think it was somehow your fault. You acted out of fear, out of terror. How you must have felt in those moments when that beta showed up, when you faced down Shepherd alone, when you returned to find your space invaded and those cameras all over your room. They werenât there to protect you, they werenât there to support you. They left you alone and you hid it from them because you didnât know any better, because you were so afraid.Â
Heâs a goddamn fucking prick heâs been.Â
Tears blur his vision as he tucks his free arm behind you, shifting your position just enough so he can get his hand around the back of your neck. You kick out with your legs, releasing his arm, your head tilting back in a last ditch, instinctual effort to protect yourself.Â
His eyes squeeze closed as you let out a yelp, his fingers digging into the back of your neck. Itâs hard enough it will leave a bruise, but he has to be sure. Itâs the only thing that might save you. Itâs his only option, his only chance to keep you alive.Â
âThere you go.â He says quietly into your ear. âNeed you to relax for me.âÂ
Your body goes limp in his hold, head resting back against his hand as he holds you there. Your muscles twitch as the tension leaves you, eyelids fluttering before they close. His arm stings where your teeth had sunk into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesnât care.Â
âKeep resting.â He says, easing his hand from the back of your neck as he shifts you in his arms. âGonna get you somewhere safe.âÂ
Youâre like a ragdoll in his arms as he lifts you up, cradling you against his chest. Youâre warm, hair sticking to your forehead.Â
âCall it in.â He tells Johnny, his eyes still glued to your face. âWe need that medevac now.âÂ
âPrice, we got her.â Johnny says into his comm. âWe need medevac stat.âÂ
You look so peaceful despite the blood soaking your body. Partially yours, partially the Shadows you killed in your escape. You look like a gruesome painting, a gorey depiction of an omega pushed too far. Something theyâd put on display in a museum, a photo that would win prizes in celebration of such a natural state caught on camera. It would be circulated for decades, something talked about centuries from now.Â
A raw view of humanityâs inner beasts.Â
He canât stand it, seeing you like this. They did this to you. They are the reason youâre like this. They made the bad call in the end, they put you through this. You wonât forgive them, not after everything. You went weeks without them, without a word and then this happened. Innocence tainted in the blood of the guilty. The bloodstained omega held in the arms of the blood-tainted alpha. He should be the one covered in their blood. He should be the one carrying the weight of torture and desperation on his shoulders.Â
The guardian dog covered in blood in the name of protecting his innocent sheep.Â
How heâs failed you. How they all failed you.Â
He pushes past the pain, past the grief, past the guilt and the horror of what they did to you, what they put you through.Â
Theyâve got you back. Youâre safe.Â
Itâs over.Â
NEXT ->
To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications
#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Ghost x reader#Kyle Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#soap x reader#John mactavish x reader#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#omegaverse
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK
Pairing:Â Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags:Â boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (Whatâs Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut
Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk thatâs probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Word count:Â 261.3k
Status:Â Complete
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isnât the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesnât smile, he doesnât appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesnât help that heâs incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko
A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 𫡠This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!
And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. đŤśđź I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!đ
Season 1 -> Playlist đś: on the way home
Episode 1 (wc: 12k)
Episode 2 (wc: 11.9k)
Episode 3 (wc: 14.8k)
Episode 4 (wc: 11.4k)
Episode 5 (wc: 14.8k)
Episode 6 (wc: 14.6k)
Episode 7 (wc: 15.4k)
Episode 8 (wc: 17.4k)
Episode 9 (wc: 18.4k)
Episode 10 (wc: 20.6k)
Episode 11 (wc: 23.5k)
Episode 12 (wc: 24.7k)
Episode 13 (wc: 29k)
Episode 14 - End (wc: 32.8k)
Season 2 (??)
#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook series#jeon jungkook#boss jungkook#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#boss au#workmates au#jungkook#bts jungkook
6K notes
¡
View notes
Text
One Piece Fic Recs that occupy my mind nonstop
After really getting into One Piece this past spring, I've been reading as much as tumblr and AO3 have offered me in terms of One Piece content. It's been hard to keep track of everything that I have read, however, certain stories/headcanons/posts linger in my mind and I thought I'd share them with you!
Minors DNI with fics marked as NSFW and for anyone, be sure to read the content warnings the authors have mentioned!
Hope y'all enjoy!
Updated: October 1, 2024
Killer
Childhood Crush by @analogwriting
does involve violent themes, please be sure to read content warnings for each chapter
Will You Let Me? by @fanaticsnail
NSFW, Pollen AU
Dreaming of You by @fanaticsnail
this also includes Heat and Kid
NSFW
The Break (Kid x reader x Killer) by @standfucker
Gore, graphic description of injury/pain/first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader
Rotation (Heat, Kid, Killer, Wire x reader) by @standfucker
explicit NSFW content
Loving you is easy by @sheerxfiction
NSFW
Three Times Killer Tried to Confess and The One Time That He Did by @nina-ya
SFW
Acid, Salt, Fat, and Heat (w/ Kid) by @fanaticsnail
NSFW
Ace
SFW:
A world we are both in by @my-love-is-sunlight
Kiss by @my-love-is-sunlight
Patching Up Ace's Wounds by @nina-ya SFW
there are more of this prompt with different characters btw!
Help by @sanjisprincesswifey
Blinders On by @froggiewrites
Taking the hit for him by @grandline-fics
NSFW:
Open Flame by @willowbelle
Ace + back dimples by @tetzoro
Fated Reunions by @tetzoro
Coward by @mimi-ya
Need by @maddddstuff
Ass or Tits? by @cloudzoro
Follow Through by @froggiewrites
My Pretty Little Thief by @turtletaubwrites
Zoro
SFW:
Bloom by @tetzoro
brazen by @mydearlybeloathed
"we should get married" by @grandlinedreams
wake him up! by @sleepymarimo
He Loves Me by @clare-875
Got me losin' my cool by @bitchimasnake-sss
Insomnia: owner's instruction by @revasserium
NSFW:
The Right Direction by @willowbelle
with hearts aligned by @eelnoise
2 years overdue by @heyitsdoe
pumpkin by @cloudzoro
beg for me by @angel1010xx
Waterflow by @otkuhotgirl
Law
SFW:
touch-starved Law by @maroronoa
the death of me by @weneeya
too sweet for me by @my-love-is-sunlight
there are no conditions by @cozage
Hidden symptoms by @escenariosinfumables
Unspoken affections by @avocadorablepirate
NSFW:
Tethered Together by @tetzoro
Luffy
A secret by @missmugiwara
18+, suggestive
SFW:
you can talk to me, but you already know by @mydearlybeloathed
clueless by @grandline-fics
Bachata by @fanaticsnail
Mihawk
Sapsorrow by @fanaticsnail
has both SFW and NSFW so make sure to read the chapter warnings!
Creative Cures by @discordantwritings
NSFW
Shanks
SFW:
Remember Me by @fanaticsnail
Dancando Lambada by @fanaticsnail
NSFW:
Always return to you by @discordantwritings
Sanji
NSFW:
Citrus by @otkuhotgirl
Multiple characters
Hey Doc by @fanaticsnail
some NSFW themes depending on the drabble
so very very funny
The Kissing Booth by @fanaticsnail
Paulie, Luffy, Hongo, Smoker, Aokiji, Heat, Crocodile, Sanji, Shachi, Law, and Zoro (right now)
my favorite ones are: Luffy, Smoker, Heat, Shachi !
Competency, Stupidity, Duality by @fanaticsnail
kid, zoro, and killer
SFW
Post Injury by @standfucker
law, shanks, rosinate, blackbeard, mihawk
gore content warnings
Gremlin Reader by @standfucker
Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates, Heart Pirates, and Kid Pirates
literally the funniest fucking thing I've ever read
they hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit by @grandline-fics
zoro, law, shanks
angst, descriptions of injury, and hurt/comfort
Beauty scars by @cozage
law, kidd
borderline NSFW
Truth or Dare by @cozage
Ace, Shanks, Luffy, and Law
SFW + NSFW, the NSFW section is clearly marked by the author
Oblivious flirting by @cozage
Law, Luffy, Ace
SFW
A Plushie Substitute by @cozage
Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, Law
SFW
Five things he says when he thinks you're asleep by @imasimpforshanks
Law, Ace, Shanks
SFW
the moment they knew you were the one by @imasimpforshanks
Luffy, Zoro, Ace, Sanji, Shanks, Law, Sabo
fluff
Falling in love with them by @imasimpforshanks
Ace, Law
SFW
OP to you being clueless to their flirting/feelings part 1 by @astelren
Ace, Luffy, Sabo, Zoro Sanji, Izou, Cavendish, Rayleigh, Law
fluff
there's a part 2!
Being scared to have sex with them by @strawhatsoraya
Zoro, Law, Kid, Ace
obviously NSFW
Calling them my love by @lehguru
Law, Sabo, Ace, Kid, Killer, Bartolomeo
SFW
Kid, Zoro, Law, & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex by @eustasskidagenda
NSFW
there are 2 other parts with different characters!
A celestial dragon wants their fem!s/o by @uramakimochi
Zoro, Sanji, Law
SFW
there's another part too!
Hand placement by @cloudzoro
Ace, Crocodile, Law, Mihawk, Nami, Reiju, Robin, Sanji, Tashigi, Zoro
NSFW
god the ones about the girls are SO GOOD
affectionate + strawhats by @lehguru
SFW
OP boys in a relationship by @moonydustx
SFW
growing old together by @usernameforaboredcat
Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
SFW
sobbed
one piece boys rescuing you by @badgerbl00d
law, zoro
sfw
heartstopper by @sleepymarimo
luffy, sanji, zoro, law
sfw
party games they'd play as an excuse to kiss you by @imasimpforshanks
luffy, zoro, nami, ace, law, shanks
sfw
Op characters reacting to you kissing them and running away by @princeoftheeternalbog
luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, robin, usopp, ace, marco, izou, sabo
slightly suggestive, mdni
Number Games by @turtletaubwrites
multi-chapter story with Cross Guild x reader
very NSFW, read the tags very carefully
Random Flirting Headcanons by @feral-artistry
Shanks, Buggy, Sanji, Ace, Law, Zoro
SFW
Here's part 2 with more characters
Jealousy fueled kiss w/ âDo you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?â by @grandline-fics
Ace, zoro, law, kid, lucci
sfw
Thinkin about: the monster, trio, ace ân law! Vs breeding kink! by @bitchimasnake-sss
luffy, zoro, sanji, ace, law
nsfw
Habits of touch by @clare-875
Zoro, sanji, luffy
sfw
Butterflies -- how they realize they have feelings for you (touch edition) with Luffy, Zoro, and Law by @radishaur
luffy, zoro, law
sfw
multiple versions! this one is just my favorite hehe
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece fic recs#one piece imagines#one piece one shots#one piece killer#one piece luffy#one piece ace#one piece law#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#massacre soldier killer x reader#portgas d. ace x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece x you#mihawk x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#shanks x reader#akagami no shanks x reader#nami x reader#robin x reader#eustass kid x readaer#crocodile x reader#sabo x reader#sanji x reader#blackleg sanji x reader#buggy the clown x reader#one piece headcanons#eustass kid x reader
1K notes
¡
View notes
Note
I dunno if u do requests however ID FUCKING EAT UP A TOBY SMUT SO MUCH OMG I DONT HAVE ANY CONTEXT OR WHAT I WANT I JUST WOULD 104% SWALLOW DOWN A SMUT FOR TOBY âźď¸âźď¸ anyway as yk i love ur works and ily and idk you but anyway have a nice day/night :3 <3 AND TY!!!!đ
carley ily this is for you đŤś
Refuge For Two
Summary: You decide to spend the weekend at your familyâs cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.
Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Injury, blood, wounds, fingering, thigh fucking, tics, inexperience, kinda first time, vaginal, desperation, cumming on thighs, slight restraint, biting, virgin
Words: 5.7k
As the tires of your Jeep skidded down the gravel path that winded to the cabin, relief finally settled.
Winter was always a rough time for you. As if seasonal depression wasnât kicking your ass, your job definitely was. Working at a hospital had always kept you on your toes, but with the snow and ice set in, more and more accidents piled up in every room. It was nothing short of exhausting.Â
So when you eventually had enough and called your parents asking to borrow the family lodge for a little rest and relaxation, you couldâve cried when they dropped off the keys to you the next morning. The cabin wasnât far from your own home. You lived in a small town nestled off the side of the highway and the cabin was just up the mountains about an hour away. It was a perfect distance from your tiring job and busy life, giving you the time you needed for the weekend. And the drive wasnât terrible. Dark clouds had settled in the sky, rolling over and swirling at the peak of the heavily wooded mountain. It made you all giddy to think of how comfortable it would be nestled up by the fire while snow coated the ground. Yeah, you needed this.
Pulling the Jeep under the carport adjacent to the large cabin, you shut it off and hopped out. The cold wind whipped at your face making your hair fling wildly. You hugged yourself, teeth chattering as you flipped the hatch open, threw your duffle bag over your shoulder, and hurried to the front door.Â
The sun sat just above the mountain range, casting a blue haze over the dense forest through the thick cloud cover. To you, it was beautiful. The calm before the snowstorm that was soon to set in. You unlocked the door, hurrying inside and tossing your stuff on the kitchen island. The inside of the cabin was nearly just as cold as the outside, offering you little relief from the wind. Hurrying over to the living room, you gripped the few logs nestled by the fireplace and tossed them in along with a a couple of matches you found on the mantle. Warmth engulfed you immediately, the fire casting a comforting glow to the rest of the room. A couch and a loveseat sat close to the fireplace, a large rug bringing the room together nicely.Â
Shuffling your shoes off, you kicked them by the door and rustled through the contents of your bag. Random warm clothes, a book you intended on reading, some junk food, and your phone. As you flipped the screen on, you noticed the no service notice in the upper corner before flipping the screen back off and setting your phone down. Whether it be from the high altitude or the dense forest surrounding you, your phone was no use this weekend. Somehow that made you happy, knowing you wouldn't have to worry about getting called in suddenly.Â
You flicked on the small light above the stove and flicked the gas eye on, blue flames erupting from under the metal bars. You filled the kettle resting on the counter with water, placing it on the eye and grabbing a mug with a bag of tea. You quickly brought your bag to the small bedroom down the hall, changing into some comfier clothes before heading back to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling. Pouring the piping water into the mug and letting the tea bag rest, you cupped the mug in your hand and turned to the living room.Â
Through the pulled curtains, you could see the sun was setting low behind the dense trees, a dark pink tint painting the sky through the thick cloud cover. Snow had begun to fall, little flakes of white decorating the trees and ground. The sound of the fire crackling just pulled it all together, driving you to nestle into the corner of the couch with a blanket and sip your warm tea. This was the perfect retreat from your busy life. Nothing but the sounds of nature and fire to keep you company, an amazing contrast to the beeping of monitors and yelling of patients. This was the solitude you craved.
When finally the sun slipped under the ridge and the sky became completely dark, you flipped open your book and clicked on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The snow had piled up a couple of inches now, the wind whipping outside the cabin and creating a low whistle all around you. It was slightly unnerving, but in the security of your warm cabin, you didnât mind it all that much. You became lost in the pages of your book, your tea and the fire creating an atmosphere where your brain slowly crept away. So when you heard a loud thunk outside, you had to close your book and lean forward, unsure if your brain was playing tricks on you. But when you heard another loud thunk just outside the cabin walls, you jumped out of your seat and tugged the curtain back, peering into the dark storm. It took you a minute to adjust your eyes, but when you saw the figure of someone curled up near a large tree, panic coursed through you. You had to double-take just to make sure you were seeing things correctly. What the hell was someone doing this far up the mountain??Â
You wanted to shut the curtains and hide under a blanket, more scared than anything. But being a nurse, your caring instincts took over and you slid on your boots and jacket, quickly hauling open the cabin door. The wind blinded you briefly, the heavy snow whipping against your face and chilling you to the bone. But as you rounded the cabin and trudged through the thick snow, you came up on the figure, realizing it was a boy, curled in on himself and shaking violently. Sliding your hands under his shoulders, you hauled his arm over your neck and hoisted him up. He rested his body weight against you, dragging his feet as he let you pull him to the cabin door. Hauling him inside, you slammed the door shut and brought him to the couch, laying him down quickly.Â
His body still shook violently, the warmth of the fire fighting hard to warm his body. His blue lips chattered, the patches on his face dark and stuck against his skin. Under the light, you could now see the large tear in the arm of his heavy jacket, dark blood soaking through. He wore heavy boots and dark jeans, his curly brown hair stuck to his forehead as he panted for air. But what caught your attention was the hatchet strapped to his belt. Alarming. You quickly realized he was just a boy barely scraping his twenties, he was taller than you, but lanky and not much larger than you. He reminded you of your patients, feeble and sickly.Â
Snapping back, you quickly slid his arms out of his jacket, his long-sleeved shirt underneath torn to shreds at the arm as you finally caught the wound: three large gash marks cut into his arms, tearing the flesh and bleeding quickly. You panicked at the sight, wondering what on earth could have caused that. You didnât know of any mountain lions in the area, but even then the claw marks were too big for them. There was little time to think as you sprinted into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. Pulling it open, you groaned at the lack of sewing needles or sterilizing spray, just some alcohol wipes and rolled elastic bandages. It would have to do. You wet a wash cloth and brought the rest of the supplies back to the couch, where the boy was beginning to stir.
He tried to sit up, but your comforting hand pressed his chest back down against the couch. He was freezing and still shaking wildly, but at least his lips were returning to a somewhat normal color. âItâs okay. Lay down, Iâm here to help.â You cooed to him, rolling his sleeve up to his shoulder and examining the scratches closer. They werenât as deep as they seemed, but the blood was spilling quickly. If you didnât hurry, he could likely pass out. You pressed the wet washcloth to the wound, the boy stirring immediately. He was mumbling something you couldnât understand, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist in an attempt to pull yours away, but you resisted. You pressed a hand on his cheek, reassuring him softly as you cleaned at the wound, the blood slowly clotting under the warm rag.Â
He was still mumbling, whispers of no and please falling from his lips, but he had quit tugging at your wrist. His eyes were still shut, pupils moving quickly underneath in a silent panic. When the wound was clean to your liking, you tossed the rag and tore open an alcohol wipe, bracing your arm against his chest. âThis is going to hurtâŚâ You warned, angling his arm and pressing the wipe against the wound and braced for the panic that you were sure would come. But when he barely flinched, his mumbles unwavering, you raised your eyebrows in alarm. It was odd, but you ultimately chalked it up to his body still being numb from the cold, his pain receptors not fully awake yet. Once the wound was sterile, you wrapped the flesh-colored bandages around his arm tightly, encasing the wound and hopefully stopping the bleeding. You secured them in place before looking at the boyâs face, slightly jostled when you caught him staring at you through hooded eyes.
You rolled his sleeve back down, sitting up and off of his chest and giving him a good once over, satisfied you couldnât see any more injuries. âThat should keep it clean.â He glanced between you and his arm, rising himself up slowly to lean his head against the armrest of the couch. When he did, his neck twitched violently, eyes squinting shut. It caught you off guard, but he seemed to ignore it as soon as it happened. He smiled at you lazily, reaching his arm to brush the hair from his forehead. âT- Thank you.â He said hoarsely, voice still raw from breathing in the cold outside. Stutters. Tics. So all the twitching his body was doing wasnât just from the cold. You recognized the movements, seeing them in other patients. Who was this kid?
You sat across from him on the couch, catching your breath. âWhat the hell are you doing out here?â You questioned, eyes flicking between his sickly face and the hatchet strapped at his hip. He took notice of this, sitting up further onto his elbows. âUhh⌠Hun- Hunting. For bobcats.â He smiled quietly, unsure of his own answer. You wanted to question further, wanted to press as to why he chose the night a snowstorm was coming through to go hunting. But you didnât. You just watched the fire crackle. âWhatâs y- your name?â He caught your attention again as he fully sat up, sliding his legs off the couch and landing his feet on the floor. He was recovering fast, the warmth entering his face again, his strength rebuilding strangely quickly. â[Y/N].â
âThank you, [Y/N]. Iâm T- Toby.â His shoulder twitched at your name, his eyes trailing to the fire as well. The situation grew tense quickly, your mutual silence growing too loud. âIâm a nurse. Couldnât just let you die out there.â You smiled at him, standing and shuffling to the kitchen where you repoured your cup of steaming hot water, this time grabbing another cup. You placed a tea bag into each, cupping them in your hands and bringing one to Toby. He took it reluctantly, staring into the liquid and swirling it around before taking a sip. He sunk into the couch as the warmth pressed his mouth, the taste comforting him. He drank the rest in two big gulps, setting the mug down before popping up.Â
âWell, b- better get goi- going.â He laughed awkwardly, springing around as if he wasnât just on the brink of hypothermia. You sat up quickly, swallowing the rest of the tea in your mouth. âWhat?! You were nearly frozen to death. Absolutely not.â You bit harshly, blocking his way to the door as he scooped up his jacket. Toby looked at you curiously, unsure why you were giving him the decency like it wasnât common courtesy. âThe storm wonât stop till morning. Till then, thereâs no way you're going back out there.â You huffed, sitting him back down on the couch.
You didnât trust him. The hatchet at his side and the uncertainty of his story made you very suspicious. But he was just a boy, definitely not much older than you. You couldnât send him back out there on a good conscience. Although his constant ticcing and jerking were catching you off guard, the genuine concern for him overrode any fears you could have. After fighting with yourself, you made up your mind. He wasnât anything to fear.
âSo, Toby. Are you from around here?â You mused, sipping down the rest of your mug before grabbing him and bringing them to the sink. Sliding off your boots and jacket, you tossed them near the door, scooping up Tobyâs and neatly folding them on the loveseat across from you. He smiled. âYeah. Got so- some, uhm, family who live near h- here.â He stared out the window as he spoke, fingers fidgeting with each other as he watched the snow whip through the air. You deduced that he wasnât a very good liar. But whatever, you didnât know him and he didnât know you.Â
As the storm outside thickened, a shared silence hung over the two of you. Around an hour had passed since you brought him inside, but little had been discussed between you. Toby stared out the window, looking for something you didnât know. He had kicked off his boots and sat them aside, laying into the couch comfortably. His hatchet perched on the coffee table beside him. You kept to your book, occasionally glancing up to study him. It was odd, even though he had warmed up, his skin was still a sickly pale color, and the only sign of life was the dark red tint over his cheeks and ears. The bandages still clung tightly to his cheeks, a large one on his left covering a rather large wound from what you could tell. Peeking through the shreds in his sleeve, you could see the bandages on his arm were stained dark with blood. Closing your book, you reached for the first aid kit, stirring Toby to look at you. âNeed to change your bandages,â You sighed, unwrapping the roll of cloth. âWhat got you anyways?â He flinched, rubbing his hands together. He was way too nervous for such a simple question. âBobcat.â Another lie. If he wasnât going to tell you the truth, there was no reason for you to push further. You slid closer to him, rolling his sleeve up again but the shreds of cloth kept sliding down. âH- Here.â Toby leaned back, hooking his hands under his shirt pulling it over his head, and tossing it to the floor.Â
What you were met with took you back with shock. This guy was decently ripped. Toby was thinner, but his abs and chest muscles complimented him perfectly. His shoulder and arms were thicker too, veins stretching down his arms and muscles pulsing under his weight. Clusters of freckles ran over his skin, hiding the deep blush he sported. The clothes he wore hid his figure nicely, who wouldâve guessed he was secretly ripped? The twitch of his neck brought your attention back to his arm. You could see the small smirk on his lips as you blushed, embarrassment creeping over you as you unclipped his soiled bandages. The wound was a lighter color now, the dark bruising around the wound healing nicely but the puffiness of infection still remained. âYouâll probably need stitches. But itâs looking better.â You grinned, tearing open another alcohol wipe and sliding it over the damaged skin. When he didnât flinch or hiss, your confusion only grew. Maybe he had a good pain tolerance. Or maybe the cut had severed a nerve. Either way, he was going to need to have this looked at professionally.Â
âItâs o- okay. My fam- family has a doctor.â He answered, lifting his toned arm up to let you slide the bandage under and wrap it tightly around once clean. You snugged the bandage on, leaning back to make sure everything was in place before packing the kit up and sliding it back onto the coffee table. âI donât have any painkillers. Hopefully, the pain isnât too bad.â You leaned back into the couch, straining yourself not to glance down at his chest again. He smiled, running his hand through his curled hair. âIâll be al- alright.â He leaned back as well, angling his body to face you as you curled your legs closer to yourself. There was that awkward silence again. The tension between you two was thick, your eyes refusing to look at him for fear of embarrassing yourself again. Toby, however, kept his eyes all over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him studying every inch of you. It made you blush. âHow c- can I thank you?â He questioned, running his hand over his bandaged arm, admiring the neatness of it. You glanced at him, eyes flicking down to his stomach for a split second, but it was already too late. You caught the happy trail running up from under his belt line, his v-line angling lewdly against his pale skin. You blushed hard, eyes flicking up quickly, but by Tobyâs expression, you knew you were caught.
He sat back smugly, pressing his back into the couch and spreading his legs just a little too far. The face you made was embarrassing. Your eyes wide, cheeks dark, and lips parted ever so slightly. Toby knew what he was doing. But he just started into your eyes, freckled cheeks rounded from his cheeky smile. âI think I- I knowâŚâ He cooed, pressing a hand flat on the cushion only inches from your knee. You shrunk into yourself, his soft words making you all kinds of squeamish. This was bad. You were young, sure. Your job was always your main focus, so you never really had time for relationships with someone, your experience only went as far as you did in high school with little hookups or sly touches. You were inexperienced, so to speak. You couldnât embarrass yourself further by revealing how little game you got. You werenât a virgin, but you definitely werenât confident in yourself. And you definitely did not intend on getting laid this weekend.Â
âUhm⌠Iâm not- not reallyâŚâ You lost your words when his fingers brushed your knee, the cold digits sending chills through you. Toby sat up, looking nowhere but into your eyes, gauging every reaction as his hand slid over your knee and slowly up your leg. You placed your hands over him, stopping his trail mid-thigh. âListen, you donât, uh, have toâŚâ His fingers gripped your thigh tightly, rubbing his thumb across the goosebumps on your skin. You glanced at his face, the deep blush on his cheeks heavy under the warm light. âIâll st- stop if you say so, but I j- just want to thank y- you,â He mumbled quietly, eye flicking nervously between your face and the rest of your body. âBesides. Itâs ju- just us out here.âÂ
You were insanely nervous, thoughts running a mile a minute as you contemplated your options. But when his fingers squeezed your thigh again, it made it harder to think. Your eyes flicked between his hand and that pretty face, his nervous smile making you flustered under his cold touch. Before you could stop yourself, you were nodding, slipping your bottom between your lips, and chewing nervously. Toby smiled, his bright eyes laying all over you. You slid your hands off him, gripping the couch underneath you as he slid both of his hands up your thighs, fingers brushing under the bottom of your shorts. He towered over you know, his tall figure encapsulating your easily as he ran his hands up your sides. You were a blushing mess, face burning when he brought his lips dangerously close to your skin. âRelaxâŚâ He cooed, arm jerking slightly before he slid his cold hand under the hem of your sweatshirt. He was met with goosebumps rising on your stomach, they trailed his fingers as he explored but his eyes were locked on yours.Â
He brought his face down to press soft kisses against your cheeks. He perched on his knees, both hands now wandering over your body and reaching to unclasp your bra. You raised your back to help him, squirming when Toby dipped his head lower to kiss your neck. He slid your bra off, tossing it to the ground before he quickly palmed your tits, massaging the mounds under his cold hands. You gasped under the cold touch, nipples perking to attention in his hands as he sucked on your neck. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his tongue slid up your neck to your jaw, raising his head up to meet your eyes. He flicked at your nipples, squeezing the nubs under his fingers and smiling at your squirming. âSo c- cute.âÂ
You were burning up, a dampness already showing on your panties from the excitement. You could barely contain yourself when he sat back against the couch, pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed against his bare chest. He slid his arms around you, the tight muscles tensing and releasing as he slid his left hand under your sweater and quickly grabbed your tit, massaging lazily. His lips met your neck again, sucking on the warm skin as he slid his right hand down the waistband of your shorts, messing with the elastic. You whined under his touch, feet perched on either side of his thighs as he slid his hand to your panties and pressed further still. When his fingers slid against your folds, you finally gasped, reaching a hand back to grip his hair as he continued to abuse your neck with kisses. âS- So wet alreadyâŚâ He groaned, biting softly on your shoulder. He pressed his fingers further, his digits sliding through the slick between your legs and spreading your lips further. He hummed against you, fingers finally landing on your clit and making you flinch. When he circled the nub, it was sloppy and rough, making you whine. The stimulation was a lot, making your knees close together tightly around his hand. When he refused to let up, you hissed your sensitivity.Â
âToby-â You whined, sliding your hand down his arm and under your shorts, gripping his hand to stop his movements against your sensitive clit. âSlow⌠pleaseâŚâ You hissed, pressing your fingers on top of his and rubbing slowly, beckoning him to follow your rhythm. When he repeated your movements, you gasped loudly, laying your head back on his shoulder. âSorryâŚâ He mumbled against your shoulder, peppering little kisses across the skin. He continued to slowly massage your clit, his cold fingers a wonderful sensation against your burning core. It didnât take long until he got the rhythm, pinching your nipple and rubbing your clit deeply, enough to make you buck up into his hand. You slid your hand into his curly hair, moaning loudly when he slid his fingers deeper to press against your entrance. When his fingers slid inside, you gripped his hair tightly, your moans reverberating off the walls. His fingers stretched you nicely, the slow pump of his wrist making your mouth hang open. It was pure bliss. His fingers curled against your walls as he pressed his palm against your clit, rubbing quickly. âToby⌠Oh my⌠oh my GodâŚâ You moaned, grinding your hips in time with his fingers curling into you. He was kissing behind your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he hummed. His pace only grew, fingers curling deeper as you felt your core knotting up wonderfully. His palm nudged against your clit harder, tugging the nub as his fingers pressed deeper against your walls. You felt the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you came on his fingers, walls gripping the digits tightly as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm. You were panting, leaning back against him as he slid his fingers out of your soaked cunt.Â
Toby was smiling against your shoulder as he pulled his hand out of your shorts, admiring the way they glistened with your arousal. Thatâs when you felt it, his cock twitching under your back, trapped inside his jeans. You breathed deeply, pressing off of him and standing up. He whined for a moment, reaching for you until you began to slide down your shorts, then your panties. Toby sat back against the couch, blushing hard as your plump ass stood in front of him. It just made his cock twitch harder in his jeans, begging to be let out. Your sweater was next, pulled over your head, and tossed to the ground. It was all Toby could do not to just cum right there. Your body was so stunning, every curve and divot of your skin making him harder.
Before you could turn around, he pulled you back against him, setting you in his lap. He was quick to unzip his jeans, tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free and nudge against your back. You blushed hard, pulling your legs back to straddle his thighs, your bare ass pressed firmly against his twitching cock. You stabilized your hands on his knees, leaning forward lewdly as your arched your back. You glanced back, cunt pulsing with excitement as Toby spit into his hand and began to lazily pump his cock, eyes never leaving your ass. You pressed back against him, eyes pleading when he finally glanced up at you. âTobyâŚâ You whined, grinding your ass down against his cock when he slid his hands to grip your hips.Â
âShit⌠Y- Youâre so, so hot. Gunna fuc- fuck you soo good.â He mumbled, neck twitching with excitement. He gripped your hips tight, tugging them up so he could nudge his cock under you, pressing the head snugly against your entrance. You stared back at him, stomach fluttering at the desperate faces he was making. When he positioned himself, he gripped your hips again, pressing down slowly. The stretch was glorious, your pinched moans ringing as he pressed you down further and further on his cock. When he finally bottomed out, your warm walls pulsed tightly around him, adjusting to his thick length. He was groaning, fingernails digging into your hips as he pressed you to move, tugging you forward and back on his cock. You were a moaning mess, cunt throbbing around him as he ground your hips down on him. You gripped his knees tightly, grinding back against the length inside you as he pressed against your walls. It was heavenly.
This is exactly what you need. All of your stress of the week prior melted away as Toby tugged your hips up, sliding you up his length before pressing you back down. He kneaded your hips and ass, his cold hands massaging all of your sore spots and melting you into him. You were losing yourself on his cock as he thrusts up into you, your hips bouncing down to meet him. He was groaning, pressing his back against the couch so he could get a better angle to thrust up into you, his lips hanging open. His cock nudged deep inside of you, every thrust pressing against your walls and making you gasp. âYouâre so- so pretty [Y/N]. Riding me so g- good.â He whined, gripping your hips tighter and jerking you on his cock. You could only brace yourself on his knees as he fucked you on his length, controlling your pace with his tight grip.Â
âF- Faster, Toby⌠ahh-â You groaned, glancing back at him as your mouth hung open. He was focused on your ass, concentrating deeply to make sure he fucked you the best he could. Truth was, Toby was just as inexperienced as you. But he was bound and determined to treat you the best he could because, God, were you treating him good. He glanced up at your pleading face, hips stuttering as his arms twitched around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You laid your head back against his shoulder again, perching your feet into the couch and opening your knees wider. At this angle, Toby could thrust up into you better, nudging his cock deeper inside and sending you hollering. His cock stretched you wider, his thrusts pressing firmly against your g-spot with every move on his hips. You tried to arch, but Tobyâs hand gripped you tightly around the waist, holding you still so he could piston up into you quickly.Â
âOh my- oh my God!â You hissed, tangling your hands in his curly hair and tugging sharply. He moaned loudly into your shoulder, retaking his place of biting into your skin, but this time he didnât hold back. His teeth pressed firmly against the muscle in your shoulder, making you roll your eyes. He slid his right hand down your waist, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and circling deeply. Thatâs what sent you over. You squealed, mouth hanging open as you stuttered up into his fingers, chasing your orgasm. Toby noticed this, holding you tighter and thrusting as deep as he could, relishing in the way your walls began to clamp down against him. âCo- Come on,â He groaned, sucking on the bite mark he planted on your skin. âCome f- for meâŚâ His fingers slid on your clit, pushing you over the edge.
When you felt that familiar wave crash over you, Toby was quick to press deep inside of you and hold himself there, letting your walls constrict around him as you cried out. The tightness made him wince, using all of his willpower not to spill inside of you, groaning when you clenched down again. Your clit throbbed as Toby slowly rubbed you through your orgasm, his still-cold hands wrapping you tightly against him. Before you could catch your breath, Toby was pulling out of you and quickly pushing your legs together. He slid his cock in between the gap in your thighs, holding your legs still as he quickly stuttered his hips up, rubbing his length between your sensitive folds. You hissed, the quick pace making you squirm as he fucked your thighs, your ecstasy slick on his length.
Before you knew it, he was spilling on top of your thighs, moaning desperately into your ear as he held your waist tightly. There was⌠a lot. Several stripes of cum coated your legs as his thrusts slowed down to a dull grind, riding his orgasm out. âOh my- y fuckâŚâ He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. As you both caught your breath, he slowly sat you off of him, grabbing his torn shirt off the ground and wiping your legs clean. He was twitching all over, pleasure still riding through him as his tics became sporadic, almost intense. He grabbed a blanket and you grabbed him, your bodies laying snugged against each other as Toby threw the blanket over the both of you, surrounding you with warmth. He reached up, flicking off the lamp on the coffee table and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his body.Â
âT- Thank you,â Toby mumbled, tucking your head under his chin as he breathed deeply. His twitching had calmed, only the slow stutter of his voice left. In the soft glow of the fireplace, you nuzzled into his chest, breathing his scent in deeply. The storm still raged outside, the wind whipping against the house and howling lowly. You could feel yourself drifting as Tobyâs fingers drifted along your spine, little goosebumps rising in their wake. For the first time in a long time, you were relaxed and calm. The stress of work and life had left you as you just lay in Tobyâs arms, swallowed by his scent.Â
-
When you stirred awake from the sunlight shining through the windows, you immediately noticed the emptiness beside you. You sat up, the blanket sliding off your bare chest and sending cold chills across your skin. You pulled the blanket around you, shuffling to the window and peeking out. The snow was beginning to melt, the sunlight reflecting brightly off of what was left from the night before. As you turned back to the living room, there was no sign of Toby. No boots or shirts were scattered on the ground. No hatchet on the coffee table. But what you did see, was his hoodie still neatly folded on the loveseat across from you. You smiled to yourself, picking the clothing up and examining it. It was rather large, swallowing you whole as you slid it over your head. But it smelled like him.Â
When the weekend was up and you packed your Jeep full, you sighed, craving desperately to stay and abandon work. You glanced into the thick forest, longing for some sign of Toby, but knowing you wouldnât get one. Groaning, you slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the warm air relieving you from the cold outside.Â
As you drove back down the mountain, you couldnât help but stare into your rearview mirror at the early morning fog lying low amongst the trees. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or your desperation making you see things. But as you glanced back one more time, you couldâve sworn you saw a curly-haired boy amongst the trees.Â
But when you looked back again, there was nothing there. Nothing but miles and miles of forest.
Even still, you smiled.
This was a request for @carmoronic!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated!
#creepypasta#smut#ticcy toby#jeff the killer x ticci toby#ticci toby smut#ticci toby#tobias forge#jeff the killer x reader#jeffrey woods#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta smut#eyeless jack#jeff the killer x eyeless jack#jeff the killer smut#jeff the killer creepypasta#jeff the killer x y/n#jeff the killer#eyeless jack x y/n#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack smut#eyeless jack x reader#creepypasta x reader#slenderman#creepy pasta#ticciwork#ticcijack#ticcinina#ticcimask#ticcijeff#slenderverse
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
- SIMON âGHOSTâ RILEY FIC RECS 2 -
my big, broody husband | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!
part one | main masterlist
SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS
yes, lieutenant ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @sinkovia (very very angsty, violence, smut)
forcedhusband!simon x reader
âł by @suimon (sooo much fluff, comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, lots of bantering)
unexpected | part two ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @dammn-dean (pregnant!reader, angst, comfort, fluff)
the roommate ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world (angst, fluff, smut, kidnapping, simon here made my heart so fuzzy)
please love me | part two ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @rowarn (angst, smut, comfort, twâs like depression, sa and suicide)
actions have consequences | part two ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!civilian!spouse!reader
âł by @mrweh (heavy angst, mean!simon)
office romance ⢠supervisor!simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @hecateslore
you had his baby and he didnât know | part two ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @sgrplumditz
ghost distribution system | part two | part three ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @katz-chow
ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HCâS
his heart, his light, his world ⢠dad!simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @thexsilentxwordsmith (so so fluffy)
no judgement ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @blingblong55 (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)
consequences ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @sinkovia (very angsty, tw: miscarriage)
a place to be weak ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @cherryredstars (fluff, little angsty)
superficial wounds, deep devotion ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @tacticaldiary (fluff)
tormented by a ghost ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @shotmrmiller (mean!simon, little explicit)
lights ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @babygirl-riley (dad!simon fluff, angst, childhood trauma)
sunshine ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @sgtcosmo (fluff)
whispers and words ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @dammn-dean (angst, slightly suggestive, happy ending)
secret haven ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @lightwing-s (fluff, secret relationship)
gentle love ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @floatingfireflies (fluff)
his girls ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @casiia (dad!simon, domestic!simon, fluff, slight angst)
migraines ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @mockerycrow (fluff, physical hurt/comfort)
family ties ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @lundenloves (angst, dad!simon but not a cute dad ahaha)
longing ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @yawnderu (fluff)
hold it together while the world is on fire ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @unreliablesnake (major character death, grief, angst, tw: drug abuse)
is it too soon? ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @unreliablesnake (fluff, simon is whipped, grief)
in another life ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @suimon (very angsty, hurt but no comfort)
over his shoulder ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @imperihoe-writes (tooth rotting fluff)
sweet dreams, my love ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @qtboni (so fluffy)
the sacrifice ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @bravo4iscool (medic!reader, fluff, angst but happy ending)
wrong words ⢠simon âghostâ riley x 141!reader
âł by @milf-murdock (hurt/comfort)
being chosen⌠by a baby ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!single mom!reader
âł by @southernbluebellereader (fluff)
big guy ⢠simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @kivino (fluff, jealous!simon)
gentle giant ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @asph6lt (fluff, soft!simon)
girl dad ⢠dad!simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @thexsilentxwordsmith (very fluffy)
home invasion ⢠neighbour!simon âghostâ riley x gn!reader
âł by @oceantornadoo (hurt/comfort, violence, fluff)
everythingâs gonna be okay ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @pearlofthesirens (hurt/comfort)
meet the family ⢠simon âghostâ riley x civilian!reader
âł by @sim0nril3y (angst, comfort, family issues)
oh muse, tell me of the things done by golden aphrodite ⢠simon âghostâ riley x fem!reader
âł by @sprout-fics (smut, greek mythology au)
late night embrace ⢠simon âghostâ riley x reader
âł by @mondaysoct (fluff, slightly explicit)
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x fem!reader#simon riley x y/n#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x reader fluff#simon ghost riley x reader angst#simon ghost riley x reader smut#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod imagine#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod#call of duty#call of duty x reader
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
ŕ¨ŕ§ zayne loses control of his evol and hurts you in more ways than one
â§.* warnings:- fem!reader, established relationships (zayne x reader), nightmares, minor depictions of PTSD, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, ANGST, breakups, hurt and comfort, jealousy, slight xavier x reader, unresolved emotions, reader and zayne are bad at communicating with each other, mentions of foods, hospitals, medication, suggestive content, language, explosions, zayne is kinda soggy and pathetic in this one, canon typical injuries, reader is in a coma, talks of surgeries, makeup sex, size kink, oral sex, girl on top, petnames (little on, my aurora, my love, darling), overprotective tendencies, possessive bf!zayne
â§.* strap in slĂźts (affectionate) we have 15k+ of zayne angst let's go
If someone had asked you what Zayneâs deepest fear was, you mightâve told them it was a botched surgery, or wilted carrots in his fried rice.
Itâs not as if your childhood-friend-turned-lover walked around with his fears stapled on his forehead; Zayne was a private guy, and even after months of dating, you were still trying to get used to his moods and needs.
However, oblivious to you, Zayneâs fear was entirely apparent.
Time and time again, he showed you the truthâwithout words or fanfareâwhenever he scolded you for being clumsy on the field or forgetting to eat the entire day.
Zayne was afraid of you getting hurt.Â
And he was afraid of hurting you.Â
The bags under your eyes have gotten worse.
A week had gone by since you had slept a full five hours, schedule packed to the brim after a deathly Wanderer attack at the train station left seven injured and five more dead.Â
Zayne wasn't faring well, either. His days were consumed with operation after operation; more broken and injured people filling the intensive care units till Akso Hospital had to transfer them to their sister hospital, Mariso.
The Association had issued out a full city warning for Hunters to patrol the streets from dawn to dusk. All your colleagues were burnt out, praying for this harsh season to end so they could return back home; back to normality.
In your shared household, the nightmare was on a constant loop.
For days on end, you and Zayne were fleeting shadows passing each otherâthe most contact being whispered good mornings or good nights, depending on the time, and once, his touch on your lower back when he gently nudged you away from the door so he could rush out for another surgery.
Things were catastrophic, to put it mildly.Â
And it didnât help that your insomnia and his nightmares were back.Â
Staring up at the ceiling, you almost didnât hear the bedroom door opening until you noticed his broad shoulders outlined in the dim darkness.
âHey.â
Zayneâs voice is laced with exhaustion, and wordlessly, you open your arms for him.
Heâs colder to the touch than you remember, a sign of his Evol losing its composure after days of insurmountable stress and adrenaline spikes.
Heâs silent, holding you tightly to his chest. You smell the hospital standard bleach and anesthetic off his work clothes, feel the stuttering of his heart underneath your spread palm.Â
âWhen will it end?âÂ
His voice, quiet and in a timbre you know and love, vibrates against your cheek.Â
âI donât know,â you reply to him truthfully, bleakly. âIâve been asking myself that same question since this all started.â
Thereâs a whistling wind outside the windows, rattling the wooden panes. You close your eyes, trying to put aside the mental image of a Wandererâs snarl and how similar it sounded to the rushing breeze.
âYou should go to sleep,â he touches your face, strokes the back of his knuckles down your cheek. âIâll go take a shower.â
âCan I come with you?âÂ
He huffed a laugh. âOf course. If I am correct to assume, you would be doing your skincare twice tonight. Would that not tire you out? Other than this inquiry, please. Be my guest.â
You chuckle slowly, and sit up, watching him undress. Lashes of scars on his defined torso, the sinews of muscles and sharp edges all stack up to create the man you missed with your entire soul.
Zayne fights back a smirk when he feels your arms around him, face tucked into the back of his neck.
âI missed you,â you breathed. âFeels like itâs been years.â
âOnly a few days,â he corrects softly. Without sparing another minute, he turns, gathers you in his arms.
You spend the next few minutes showering with him, tracing the water trickling down his defined traps, obliques and abs with your wandering eyes. Lathering up bath soap and going over the spots of your body you had forgotten to scrub in your tired fugue, you discreetly watched him wash his hair, lost in his own thoughts.Â
Zayneâs beautiful green eyes flicker to the present when he feels you sneakily coming up behind him, and he almost groans like a virgin teenager at the sensation of your soft tits pressed against his back.
He stays still when your wandering hands trace down his stomach, over his pelvis where his hips tick the second he feels your tiny hands wrap around his cock.
âWhatâre you doing?â he asks, trying to sound gruff, but it came out breathless instead.
âShowing my boyfriend how much I miss him,â you hum.Â
Zayne bites on his lower lip, glad that he was facing the shower wall when you decided to play with him in such a risque way.Â
âWhat a little vixen,â he groans, voice dropping an octave deeper; a baritone timbre which sends shivers up your spine. âItâs amusing. If I had any suspicions, I think youâre trying to get me riled up so that I would lose control.â
His observation was apt, as usual.
âYouâre correct,â you brush your lips across a scar over his right shoulder. âSo, should I give you a medal, Dr. Zayne? Or, a trophy for getting it right?âÂ
He breaks your hold on him, and youâre breathless, thinking he is going to reject you when he pulls you into his embrace. Your back meets the tiled walls, and his large hands grab fistfuls of your ass, hitching you up high enough so your legs can wrap around his slim waist.
âAll of that is useless,â Zayne whispers huskily against your lips, and you swore your heart was about to double in size and burst out of your chest at his next words. âThe only recognition and reward I need is your sweet little pussy, my Aurora. May I know if I can treat her well tonight?â
He didnât even need to ask; you would serve your cunt on a silver platter for Zayne, no questions asked or needed.
âYes,â you breathe, twining your fingers through his dark locks and tugging his face closer to yours. âYou may, Dr. Zayne.â
His nightmares always started the same.
A dimly lit room. Chocolate wrappers on the bare, wooden floor. Loud explosions outside. And somehow, there was always a broken mirror somewhere in his periphery.
Zayne dreads (no, perhaps, itâs too mild a word)âhe absolutely fearsâwhat comes next.Â
Thereâs a little boy, no older than seven who looks at him hopefully. Zayne always ignores him, preferring to watch a blinking red dot on his screen.Â
Heâs different here; dressed sharply in a dark trench coat, expression like a blank slate. Nothing at all like his focused, calm self in the present. And yet, Zayne recognizes him like how someone might recognize the back of their hand even under a different light.Â
The man before him was him⌠but not exactly him.Â
Heâs been dreaming of this Zayne for a long timeâever since he turned twelve.Â
And right now, he was about to see the extent of this alternate Zayneâs power.Â
He can predict what comes next; the stretch of skin on the boyâs face snarling, broken bones sounding in the small room. The shard of ice through his heart which eventually ends his life.Â
But, this time, the boyâs cries are different. Theyâre higher pitched.Â
Feminine, almost.
Zayneâs heart races, his movements in the dream sluggish.
Zayne! Her voice reverberates, and he recognizes it. Zayne, please! Donât hurt me anymore! Save me. Help me. Youâre a doctor, Zayne. Not this. Never this. Please. Donât hurt meâ
The boyâs face disappears, replaced by one he knew all too well. His features morphed right into yours, and Zayne desperately lunges at the dark ice piercing your chest, fighting to get it out.
It would never move, no matter how hard he tugged on it or how much he willed his power to make it melt. You were dying with every wasted second, breathing growing ragged.
Zayne, Zayne⌠you never stopped calling out for him.
Zayne, help me. How could you hurt me like this? Zayne⌠ZayneâŚ
A burst of light explodes behind his closed eyes. Someone is shaking him awake, the cadence of her voice familiar and sweet.
â... Zayne? Hey. Hey. Itâs a bad dream. Zayne, youâre fine. Ssh, youâre fine.â
Her warm hands find his cheeks, pulling him right into her embrace. His face buries into neck, and he shudders, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries from her hair.
âZayne, youâre so cold,â you murmur into the darkness of the room. âYouâre shivering.â
He was; huge tremors which rocked him from his very core. He feels the familiar tingle on his skin, the web of ice which encases his hands.
Before he can gather enough lucidity and control to push you away, it all explodes in one fell swoop.
Ice shoots out, hitting the ceiling, piercing through the wooden bedframe.Â
âZayneâ!â
Your scream of pain rips through the night, and he frantically sits up, finding a huge shard piercing through your forearm.Â
âNo,â he whispers, fevered. âNo, no.âÂ
His hands are stained with bloodâyour bloodâas he tries to help you. But, the shard wouldnât budge.Â
âZayne,â you hiccup, moaning lowly. âShit⌠H-hurtsâŚâ
Nightmares become reality when it finally slams into him what he has done.Â
âHospital,â he mutters hoarsely. âWe need a hospital.â
âZayneââ
âDonât argue with me,â thereâs a feral note in his tone, a harsh reprimand which makes you flinch back.Â
âNow, grit your teeth and bear the pain for a little while, Y/N. I am taking you straight to the emergency room.â
You felt like you were floating on auto-pilot.Â
Colors and shapes melded into one strange blob the longer you sat in the examination room. After a few excruciating minutes of the ERâs doctor trying to get all the shards of hardened ice out of your arm, you were stitched up and given a heavy dose of painkillers, enough to knock out a horse.
But, you resolutely stayed awake, afraid that if you closed your eyes, something bad would happen.
Immediately once the minor surgery on your arm had concluded, Zayne had disappeared from your side, and you assumed he was downstairs by the general admissionâfilling up your details. He had stayed with you long enough for the extraction, giving you his hand to hold, though he remained tight-lipped and pale throughout the entire ordeal.
You wanted to see him again, even if it was for a few minutes.Â
When the curtain parted, you looked up, expecting to find a pair of emerald green eyes, but were greeted with a pair of worried purple ones, instead.
âHey, Pipsqueak. Zayne called me the second you got in. Grandma couldnât come because she wasnât feeling too well.â Caleb shifted the drapes aside, slowly stepping into your ward. He sat down on the chair by your bedside, the bags under his eyes heavy though his smile still held a teasing quality you were familiar with.
âCaleb?â you winced at how rough your voice sounded, reaching for the water bottle by your bedside. He beat you to it, grabbing the plastic bottle and tipping your head up, helping you drink.
Once your throat wasnât drier than the desert, you sat up, the woozy sensation exacerbated from your sudden motion.Â
âHey,â he whispered, rushing to steady you. âSlow down. Youâre injured, Pipsqueak.â He rearranged you back onto the bed, expression pinched. âWhat happened? Zayne sounded frantic on the phone and thatâs something new. Always thought he could disable a ticking time bomb with how unruffled he is.âÂ
Despite poking fun at his childhood friend, it didnât bring a smile onto your face. Caleb ditched his sunny disposition, becoming serious.Â
âY/N, are you okay? Youâre acting strange. Did⌠did Zayne hurt you?â
Immediately, you whipped your head towards him, eyes wide. âN-no! Of course, not. Why would you think that?â You struggle to speak past the drugs making you slur. âHe⌠he didnât hurt me. Brought me to the hospital. I tripped.âÂ
A lame conclusion. Calebâs eyes narrow, and heâs about to ask you again, when a familiar voice interrupts.
âShe needs to rest. I thought I told you to come by in the morning?â
Zayneâs frosty glare sets off Calebâs strained smile. Your childhood best friend's nostrils flare, and the whites of his teeth shine like the edge of a knife when he stands up to greet Akso Hospitalâs best surgeon.Â
âYou made it sound like she was dying so of course I came as fast as I could.â Casting his amethyst eyes to yours, Calebâs feral smile softens. âYouâre right. I can see she needs some rest. Letâs goââ He clasps a hand on Zayneâs shoulder, and you donât have to be on the receiving end to know Caleb was using his Evol to tighten his grip on your boyfriend.Â
âYou and I have a lot to discuss.â
Zayne grimaces, and you shoot him an apologetic smile.
Caleb turns to you with a cheery wave. You mouth donât kill him and he rolls his eyes.
Iâll try not to, he mouths back.
Then, the curtains droop close and you settle back on the hard pillow, freefalling into a dreamless sleep.
Something was off the second you woke up.
Firstly, Zayne wasnât with you again.Â
It was Calebâs dark bedhead which greeted you, his face inches from your arm, eyes closed and breathing steady.
You lean up, wincing when you felt your stitches pulling.Â
âHey,â you whisper, touching your best friend's broad shoulder. âCaleb? Whyâre you still here?â
He groans, groggily opening his eyes. âM-morning, Pipsqueak,â he staggers through a yawn. âWhat time is it?âÂ
âI donât know,â you whisper, feeling a huge migraine clustering behind your eyes. âUgh, whereâs Zayne?âÂ
At the mention of your boyfriend, Caleb blinks, wide awake now. âAh. He told me he had some emergency surgeries lined up. Heâs probably working.â
Oh. You fall into a disquiet, staring at the swathing white blankets. That uneasy feeling was back again.
âDid he say when he would be done?âÂ
âI donât know,â Caleb confessed. âBut, you have his schedule, so I think youâd know better than me, Pipsqueak.â
Right. Zayne was your boyfriend. Caleb would barely know the guy if it wasnât for your insistence in the both of them meeting up once a month for dinner with Grandma.
Swallowing your disappointment down, you plaster on a bright smile. âAre you up for some coffee today? Youâre always complaining about the ones at the Academy.â
Caleb smiles, and leans forward to ruffle your hair. âYâknow, if this was a normal day, I would totally take you up on your offer,â he becomes serious now. âBut, youâre still healing, Pipsqueak. And caffeine is bad. Let me call the nurse to check on you first, okay?â
You nod, watching his broad back disappear out into the halls.Â
Fidgeting, you touch your bandaged arm, recalling the clammy silence last night as Zayne drove to Akso Hospital; his jaw tense and eyes steadfastly not meeting yours.
Heâs probably angry at himself, you reasoned. Zayne always was harder on himself than anybody else, and the guilt could be eating him alive.Â
Feeling slightly reassured that nothing bad would happen, you lean back against the pillows again, closing your eyes.
You fell back asleep the second Caleb reappeared with the nurse; both of them politely closing the door and giving you some time to rest, your best friendâs eyes lingering right on your exhausted expression.
âGoodnight, Pipsqueak,â he whispers into the still air which was permeated with your steady breathing. âSee you later.â
That night, you woke up to an icy cold hand in yours.
Fluttering your lashes, you find Zayne with his eyes closed and head bent forward, one hand in yours and the other braced on his forehead.
âZayne?âÂ
He thaws from his uneasy doze, woozy emerald eyes widening slightly at your relieved expression.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers the second he finds his voice. âI lost control. I⌠I hurt you.â That last part was spat out, as if he was firmly disgusted with his lack of composure. âIt was dangerous of me to even be next to you. I was aware of my nightmares and my Evol has been unstable as of late. I put you in harmâs way and I am forever sorry for doing so, my Aurora.â
His lips were cool on the back of your hand, those brilliant eyes fogged over with an unfathomable expression.
âZayne⌠itâs okay.â
They flare back to life, this time electrified with an untamed emotion. âOkay?â he says slowly, like he couldnât believe his sins were absolved that easily. âIâve hurt you and all you can say is âokayâ? Y/N, please. Be reasonable.âÂ
You open your mouth to counter his harsh words, but his hand had already detangled from yours. Zayne stood up, the look on his face awfully cold and distant.
âI donât think this will work out.â
What? You wanted to voice out, but your words were stuck behind the lump in your throat. âZayneâŚâÂ
You reached out for him, but all you felt was cold air where his warmth once stood. He had backed away, expression closed off and frigid. Shame and hurt filled you, threatening to pour out from your eyes.
He couldnât bear to look at you, those emerald eyes latched to a water stain on the ceiling as if it was more interesting than the girl whose heart he was breaking right in front of him.
âWhat do you mean by that?â you demand, though it sounds like a plea in your thick voice. âZayne, it was a mistake. A one-time thing. Donât make it bigger than what it is. Please. Letâs talk this outââ
âNo,â he stood to his full height, looking at you down the line of his nose. âItâs not something we can talk about. Youâre better off without me, and I, you. I will drop your things off at your apartment the moment I get off work. Goodbye, Y/N.â
Hot pain sliced through your soul, leaving a gash where he once stood.
âNo,â you murmured, though you were speaking to the thin air. Zayne had already turned and left. âZayne? Zayne! Come back, we can talk it outââ
You tried to stand and run after him, but your body was weakened from the medication and lack of movement. Stumbling back, you sat on the edge of your bed, fisting the sheets and fighting back the urge to scream at him to come back. There was nothing you could do except watch the broadness of his back leave, disappearing down the hall and around the corner.
Easy. How easy it was for him to break things off like this.
Like you didnât even matter.
You hang your head forward, the misting tears in your eyes pooling onto your lash line. You had no idea how long you stayed like this; frozen, immobile. Waiting for him to come back.
The curtains opened again, and you expected Zayne to be there with a change of heart. But, when you saw it was Caleb instead, carrying a box of doughnuts and his signature easy going smile, you couldnât help the pang of disappointment coruscating on your trembling lips.
He sensed something was wrong the second you didnât greet him, and he was right when he sat beside you and you broke down into tears.
Sorry, you gasped in between sobs. Iâm so sorry. Iâm usually stronger than this.Â
Caleb didnât push you or demand you tell him the reason why you were crying. He held you close instead, patting your head. When you wouldnât stop sobbing, he rubbed your back, telling you in his low, reassuring voice that you were going to be okay.
He never did find out why you were crying, and neither did you voluntarily supply any information.Â
But, when he took you home the next day and found your things neatly packaged in boxes waiting by the front door, it wasnât hard to put two and two together.
Zayne�
You flinched when Caleb mentioned his name.
For a single second, neither of you said anything.
Caleb exhaled noisily, gripping your shoulder and pulling you into his one-arm hug. âIâm going to kill him for what he did to you.â
âNo need,â you surprised him and yourself by how emotionless you sounded; nothing but exhaustion and resignation in your tone.
âIt wouldn't be worth itânot at all.â
For days after that, you threw yourself back into your work.
The second Jenna called for volunteers for a dangerous mission, your hand would almost always shoot up. It didnât matter how bad the fluctuations were or how big the threat wasâyour name was almost always on the list every single day. Even Xavier was starting to notice how impulsive you were becoming, though his worry was more subtle than the rest of your nagging colleagues (read: Tara).
âWouldnât your doctor boyfriend worry about you throwing yourself in such situations?âÂ
You fight back a wince, polishing the nozzle of your Hunter gun. Of course. None of your workmates knew the truth; they all still assumed you and Zayne were together.
âNo, he wouldnât,â you reply back mildly, eyeing the barrel down with a grimace. âHe doesnât care if I live or die.â
A gloved hand picks the gun from you, and you turn to find him frowning. Xavierâs pinched expression spoke volumes, though he didnât ask any follow-up questions.Â
Neither of you broke the silence, until you heard the gun clatter back down onto the floor accompanied by his tired sigh.Â
âThere are many, many stars in the night sky, Y/N,â he starts. You turn to him with a frown.Â
Where is he going with this?
Xavier continues. âEven if one dies or explodes, another one will take its place. Donât lose your light for a star who refuses to shine for you.â
Standing up, he extends a hand towards you.
âSince youâre not in the best of moods, I was thinking we could have some lamb hotpot tonight. What do you think? Iâll let you choose most of the ingredients.â
Though the idea of food sounded unappealing, you couldnât help but smile at his attempts to cheer you up.
Taking his hand, you nod.Â
âSure. Can I also pick our second soup base?â
He huffed a laugh. âWhy not, huh? You can hog most of the dipping sauce, too. I wonât complain.â
It was the first time in days since you had smiled, the expression foreign and almost painfully pulling your cheeks.
But, you do it anyway.
Despite his odd allegory, Xavier was right.Â
Even if someone took their light away from you, it didnât mean you had to stop yourself from shining again.
Zayne may have been the brightest star in your universe, but at the end of the day, you were the fucking sun.
And no one could take away your light without your permission, no matter how hard they tried.
Another long night at the ER, another cup of coffee.
Zayne puts down his glasses with a sigh, and hears his office phone beep. He barely has time to steel himself when the message comes through, urgent and demanding.Â
âDr. Zayne? Itâs Dr. Lewis here. We have a code red down by Bloomshore Forest. Something about a fluctuation. Most of the injured are Hunters.â
His heart rate spikes and he immediately stands.
Itâs been more than a week since he last saw you, and Zayne was almost at the end of his emotional tether. He had reacted poorly to the entire ordeal, and was now facing the repercussions of his hasty actions.
Nights were spent tossing and turning, his nightmares coming back at full force. Sometimes, he woke up and padded into the living room, trying to find respite on the couch where your old t-shirt still lay, smelling of you and his regrets.Â
When he woke up, there was no one to greet him or kiss his cheek with her morning breath. No one who hummed in the shower while she got ready for work or left loud, theatrical smooches on his cheek before she rushed out of the door.Â
There was no you in his life anymore.
Zayne was tired of shadow fighting with demons he couldnât see.
Plain and simpleâhe missed you.Â
And right now, he had to see if you were one of the injured; Zayne would never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldnât make amends.Â
Rushing down the freeway, he passed by signs of destruction everywhere; torn up trees, fractured roads. Wanderers who left a trail of discord and mayhem wherever they went.
The flickering blue and red lights were what caught his attention, and he quickly disembarked from his car, hurrying to the thick of the commotion. Tents were set up, medical personnel running to and fro.Â
Someone recognized him and handed him a pair of scrubs and gloves. Zayne immediately got to work the second Greyson approached him, gray in the face from fatigue.
âDr. Zayneââ
âGive me a rundown, Dr. Greyson,â he mutters, hurrying to the closest tent.Â
âFour injured and about ten with minor abrasions,â his assistant started, âWe counted about two missing from the fray. A Mr. Xavier and⌠Miss Y/N.â
No.Â
At the mention of your name, Zayne stopped in his tracks.Â
Greyson looked apologetic, though for what, Zayne had no idea.
âWhen was her last contact?â he didnât mean for his voice to rise, but it did, betraying his stress and fear over your whereabouts.Â
âTwo hours ago. A comm signal right in the middle of the N109 Zone.â
Zayne swore he felt his heart drop right into his boots. He gapes, opens his mouth and closes it, but no sound escapes.
âDr. Zayne?âÂ
Greyson was waiting for his response. Zayne had to react, fast.Â
âSet up the operation room for the four injured and get me a line with the closest hospital for blood transfusions. We need as many supplies as we can get our hands on. Has the Association been notified of their two missing Huntersâ?âÂ
Before Zayne could finish his sentence, a commotion stirs at the fringes of the forest.Â
Several people yell, and he looks up in time to find a limping figure supporting someone else.Â
Your silhouette solidifies in the half light, dirt and blood caked on your face and limbs. Greyson gasps as well, muttering oh thank goodness.Â
A nurse with a blanket rushes over to you and a fair-headed man whom he assumes is Xavier, wrapping the both of you in the thick fabric.Â
Greyson doesnât notice how his attention has waned, locked right on your smiling yet exhausted face. âWeâre establishing a line with Marisoâs hospital down the blockâhey, Dr. Zayne?âÂ
He zeroes in back on his assistant with a firm nod. âDo it, then. And keep me updated on the progress.â
Thereâs a pause.
âArenât you going to speak to her?â Greyson asks, curiosity lingering at the thought of why his superior wasnât going to greet his girlfriend. Zayne takes one last look at you, and he drops his gaze.Â
âNo. I do not want to overwhelm her before her evaluations.â Straightening, he nods. âLetâs proceed with the different evals and prep. Line up the next surgery for hour 2045.â
There would be no time to let his heart take the lead.Â
He had to focus on the task at hand.
Greysonâs expression fades in and out of focus. Zayne notices that Xavier has his hands on your face, inspecting a nasty cut on your cheek.
How easy it was for you to replace himâŚ
âHour 2045, surgery #1 is confirmed, Dr. Zayne.â
He tears his gaze away from you and nods; ignoring the hollow pang in his chest.Â
âLetâs get it started, then.â
You didnât expect to see Zayne in the distance when you returned back from a near death experience.Â
A part of you wonders if your mind is playing tricks on you; if the adrenaline has you seeing things your tired brain canât catch up with.
But, there he stands. Forlorn yet imposing. Expression a blank sleet.Â
You swear he looks over in your direction, but when you look up, heâs walking away with a colleague, head bent low and eyes firmly on his tablet.Â
How easy it is for him to walk away from me.Â
âHey.â Xavier brings you back to the present with a small smile and a cup of coffee in one hand. âNo cream and three spoonfuls of sugar. Just like how you prefer it.â
You crack a smile, accepting the cup. âAre you sure you didnât burn it this time?â
He chuckles, taking the spot next to you. âI told the nurse she had to make it and not me, so I wasnât involved in the process whatsoever.â Your hunting partner blows steam off the cup, pursing his lips to sip on the dark liquid.
âMhm. See? Sweeter than my burnt coffee.â
You follow suit and take a sip, nodding in agreement. âYouâre right. It does taste better.â
Xavier follows your line of sight when he realizes youâre quieter than usual. His azure eyes land on the surgery tent in the distance where a few figures were milling around.Â
âAre you worried for Tara?âÂ
You grip your cup tighter, fighting back a wave of self-loathing at what you had done.
âIf I hadnât asked her to accompany me near the fringe, none of this wouldâve happened.â Your shoulders slump forward, and you feel Xavier shifting closer. âItâs all my fault, Xav. I couldâve gotten her killed.â
At the realization, tears prick your eyes. His arm hovers in your periphery and you sniff, imperceptibly nodding.
He wraps you in his one-sided embrace, holding your face close to his shoulder. âYou couldnât have known a protofield of that size would open. Itâs not your fault.â
You thought back to Taraâs scared cries; how she dove head first to the ground to dodge the energy surges of that Berserk Wanderer.
The both of you wouldâve perished if Xavier hadnât stepped in at the last minute, breaking the field and swooping in to save you two.
âI need to apologize to her when sheâs done,â you mumble softly, âI canât get that mental image of her hurt out of my mind.â
As you spoke, someone familiar approached you. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a tight smile, Akso Hospitalâs Dr. Greyson beckoned you over with a wave.
You shrugged Xavierâs arm off you and stood up, confusion clearly in your gaze.
âHello! Miss Y/N, right? Dr. Zayneâs girlfriend? I need you to sign here as a witness for Miss Tara since her family is out of state.â
He procured a document and a pen. You took them mutely, unsure if it was rude to correct him on your updated status in Zayneâs life. But, figuring that it would be best not to trauma dump on a stranger, you sign your name on the dotted line without much resistance.
âWonderful. Thank you. Dr. Zayne will step out and see you in a bit once he has some free time. In any case, please stay here and do not wander back for anymore Wanderers. We canât have anymore of Linkonâs brightest Hunters hurt!â
Chipper and happy like he wasnât in the middle of a dire situation, Greyson left you and Xavier alone.
âNice guy.â
âHmm,â you sit back down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. âZayneâs colleague. Older than him but a sweet one. I used to bribe him with fried chicken to get ZayneâsâŚâ your breathing hitched, and you clear your throat. â... work schedule.â
Xavierâs body stiffens underneath your cheek and you immediately retract yourself away from him. âSorry,â you mumble, unsure what had gotten into you; how you couldâve let yourself get this comfortable with your fellow Hunter of all people.
But, he shakes his head, patting his shoulder. âYou can rest here if you want. I know youâre tired. I am, too.â
Cautiously, you lean your head back on his shoulder, eyes closing.
Xavierâs cheek gently rests on your head, and you hear him exhale tiredly. âIâm dead on my feet.â
âMhm hmm,â you mumble, fighting the exhaustion caking heavily on your lids. âI could close my eyes and sleep for days.â
âThat sounds like a wonderful time.â
The both of you take a second to rest, trying to recenter yourselves back to the reality of being safe and sound away from those terrifying Wanderers.Â
You hear someone approaching, gravel crunching underneath a pair of boots.
âY/N?âÂ
His soft voice fringes on your consciousness, and your eyes flutter open.
Zayne stands before you, tall and intimidating. There was no spark in his lustreless green eyes which flickered towards the dozing man by your side and then back to yours. You suddenly feel cold all over, like shards of ice were prickling underneath your skin.
It doesnât matter what it looks like to him, you glance at Xavier and pat his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up. Zayne and I are long over.Â
âI need to run a checkup on you. Hunter Associationâs orders. Can you follow me, please?âÂ
Xavier stirs the second you nod, and releases you from the swathes of blankets. A clash of azure blue meeting clear green; both men staring each other down while you shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
âMake sure sheâs all right,â Xavier says in a soft voice, though you donât miss the steel underneath it.
Zayne nods, and turns around. Barely even looking back to see if you were following him.
Wordlessly, you limp after his broad back, consciously touching your face and trying to smooth your hair down.
Inside the tent, Greyson smiles and leaves you two alone for the first time in days.
Thereâs a makeshift desk and a chair beside it. An examination bed that had been hastily drawn open stands, forlorn and waiting.
You take a seat by the desk, hands laced onto your lap and eyes on the dirt-packed floor.Â
âAre you alright?âÂ
You donât delude yourself into thinking there was a hint of concern in his tone. Zayne was just being your primary care physician at this moment��nothing more than his appointed role in your life.
But, wasn't there a time when he was more than this?Â
You shake off those thoughts, giving him one-worded answers.Â
âYes.â
He drags the chair by the desk and sits on it, unfurling a binder and picking up a pen. It clicks loudly in the silence, exacerbating how alone you two were with each other.
âAny dizziness? Loss of hearing?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo, Dr. Zayne. I feel fine.â
âPlease look at me in the face. I am trying to give you an evaluation for your Associationâs report and I need to make sure you meet the health standard.â
Exasperation mingled with professional arrogance laced his tone. You bristled, but did as you were told, lifting your face to meet his eyes.
Those green orbs were galaxies you could get lost in. Swallowing hard, you repeat what you had said, this time in a forceful tone. âI feel fine, Dr. Zayne.â
You make sure to emphasize on his title, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.
How you had cried for nights on end when he wouldnât return your calls or messages and now here he wasâfeeling more like a stranger day by day.
You promised yourself you wouldn't be that stupid, brokenhearted girl anymore. This would be the last time you let Zayne play with your resolve and mind.
He picked up a flashlight, beckoning you closer. Cool fingers touched your face, and you nearly flinched when the bright beam permeated your irises.Â
âMy apologies,â he mumbled, and you thought he meant the intrusive medical checkup when his next words catch you by surprise. âI didnât have time to answer your calls or messages. I was busy cleaning up after last weekâs attack. Please, forgive me.â
He whispers that last part and your mind blanks.
You donât know what to say, or how to react. So, you settle for silence.
Zayne frowns, clicks off the flashlight. He writes down his findings and brings out his stethoscope.Â
The cool circle touches your pulse point, your chest. He closes his eyes, listens to your heart.
âItâs beating faster than usual,â he mumbles, removing eartips and going back to his report. âAny fatigue? Dizziness? Perhaps vertigo hitting you when you least expect it?â
You shake your head. âIâm fine, Dr. Zayne. I told you.â Sighing, you plaster your eyes back to the ground to avoid his piercing stare. âI donât think you should waste your time on me. There are other patients who need your expertiseâstarting with Tara. But, thank you for seeing me, anyway.â
He doesnât get a chance to dismiss you before youâre standing up and walking out of the tent with your head hung low.
Zayne doesnât call you back, and neither do you turn around to give him one last look, like you always do before you leave his office.
Meters of silence and unsaid words stretch between the both of you; coldness replacing once fond memories.
The flap of the tent falls close and a forlorn wind whistles through the air, ruffling the papers on his desk.
Zayne tears his eyes off your form, ignores how his heart squeezes when he sees you returning back to Xavierâs side.Â
The other man smiles at you, and the look on your face is far from detached. Warm and inviting, Zayne canât recall when was the last time you looked at him like that.
Shit.
Never one to be steeped in regret, Zayne finds himself wishing he could turn back the hands of time; change his actions the second after he had lost control of his Evol.
Not only had he injured you, but he had left you behind like so many others did before.Â
That was the one thing he promised your Grandma that day he dropped by for lunch: I will protect her with everything I have, maâam. I will never leave her alone for long.
And this was the best he could give you? Broken promise after broken promise?
For the first time in his life, he feels like a failure; an idiot with nothing but a lofty title and his big-headed ego.
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
Zayne grimaces, knowing how well you could hold a grudge if you wanted to. It looks like he has to temporarily play the role of the fool to get you back.
However, he relents and accepts his fate: this Herculean task of winning back your heart.
He would never say it out loud, but he admired your tenacity and determination; how you would always stick to your principles and never let yourself be swayed by a different current.
Reclaiming back your love wasnât going to be an easy task. You would put him through the wringerâhe was sure of that.
But, itâs what he deserves; what he could stomach and take after treating you so cruelly.
It was time to let the begging game begin.Â
â... Tara, what the heck is all this?â
You had walked into work one day to a deluge of roses heaping onto your desk. Tara was halfway signing off the delivery manâs note with a gleeful smile, before she turns and offloads the last huge bouquet into your arms.
âLooks like someoneâs ex-boyfriend misses her.â
She winks and skips away, leaving you floundering with at least six bouquets of blood red roses swarming around your desk.
You flush with embarrassment when Jenna walks in, her expression one of open curiosity at the sight of all those flowers.
âLooks like you have a secret admirer,â your boss muses. âOr, someoneâs boyfriend has done something really wrong. Wild shotâIâm leaning more towards the former.â
It was no secret you were dating Dr. Zayne, but to have it so brazenly rubbed into everyoneâs faces was making you cringe from head to toe.
âIâm so sorry, Jenna,â you blurt. âIâll toss this all out. Donât want bees in anyoneâs hair.â
You chuckle nervously when she gives you a look.
âOh, donât be silly. Just hand them to the gardener downstairs. Iâm sure sheâll know what to do with them. Such pretty flowers would be wasted in the trash.â
Nodding, you pick up every single bouquet, struggling to not drop one on your way out of the office. Tara sits smugly behind her desk, not even offering to help; wanting to see how far your pettiness could take you.
âGood⌠morning?â
You peek past the crest of roses to find Xavierâs scrunched nose and confused expression examining the blooms in your arms.
âMorning,â you mutter hastily.
He drops his bag and plucks two bouquets from your arms.
âAre we throwing a party? Or, did someone from our department get engaged?â
You feel like you could spontaneously combust, steeling yourself to reply to his innocent question.
âThese are⌠for me. I think.â
Xavier pauses mid-stride, glancing at you through lowered, ash blonde lashes.
âOh. Are they from Zayne?â
You pretend not to feel your heart soar in your ribcage at the mention of his name, preferring to plaster on an irritated glare.
âI hope not. That wouldnât make any sense.â
Xavier doesnât prod anymore, and neither do you offer to keep the conversation rolling.
He helps you duly dispose of the roses, the gardenerâs toothy smile a small consolation for saddling her with this many blooms.
Once you get back to your desk, you pick up your phone and bring up Zayneâs name, finger hovering over the call button.
But, you change your mind at the last minute and click on the chat bubble option.
Please donât tell me you robbed an entire florist to send me those roses.
Send.
Instantly, a chat bubble appears, his reply coming faster than you expected.Â
Your accusation is inaccurate. I did, in fact, leave the old man a huge tip for procuring those roses in record time. Youâre welcome.
Brows knitted together, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.
I donât want them. Please, donât waste your time or effort on me anymore. Itâs not worth it.Â
The bubble appears again. Then, it disappears. Reappears.
You wait on the other end with baited breath. Never did a pair of ellipses make your chest hurt this painfully; wildly thrumming heart caught in your throat.
Your tone suggests I am far from forgiven for what I did. If that is the case, would you like to join me for dinner at The Promenade tonight? I recall you adore their chestnut ice-cream. I can pick you up from your apartment. I would very much like to make amends, Y/N.Â
Clear and dry cut. Zayne was putting all his cards on the table for you to pick apart and prod.
You switch your screen off, unable to formulate a response.
The memory of how coldly he had treated you resurfaces; the cruel blankness on his face. The ease in which he left you like a man who had done it many, many times before.
Tightening your hands into fists, you fight back a fresh wave of tears which threaten to take you under.
Someone clears their throat, and you snap back to the present, blinking hard and pretending you had something in your eye.
Bless his heart, Xavier willfully ignores your lapse of control; he gives you a small smile, gesturing towards the pantry. âThey⌠just brought in some new instant noodle flavors. I was going to make a cup. Do you want some?â
You plaster on a fake smile, nodding. Suddenly, your stomach rumbles, and he exhales a laugh at the well-timed interjection. Â
âNoted. The beef broth one?â
âSounds good.â
âRoger that,â he turns on his heel, and you donât know what possessed you to call him back. He turns, waiting for you to speak.
âWhatâre you doing tonight?â you blurt, and he pauses, tilting his head to the side.
âNot much. I have this movie I really want to watch. Why? Wanderer hunting?â
Knowing it was your favorite thing to do to let off some steam, he waits for you to formulate your response.
âNo. I need to inspect something. At that forest again. Something about the fluctuation pattern those few nights ago⌠Something doesnât add up.â
Xavier considers it, shifting from one foot to another. âAnd if we do find it? What, then?â
âWe come back here and fill in the team,â you mutter. âAnd we can finally match the fluctuation pattern to Onichynusâ fabricated Protofield. It would give us a clue to their plans.â
Despite his reservations at letting you delve deeper into this conspiracy theory, Xavier had a hunch that if he didnât follow you, you were bound to do it on your own.
Whatever happened between you and Zayne mustâve driven you down this frenzied yet determined path; choosing to prioritize your job over the feelings you havenât sorted out yet.
And who was Xavier to complain? If he had a few more moments to spend with you, he would take it, no matter the motivation.
âSure,â he shrugs. âIâll meet you tonight at the Fringe. 8 oâclock.â
You nod, casting your eyes back to your phoneâs dull screen. Zayneâs text message taunts you, and you sensed there would be hell to pay for ignoring him.
But, you turn off those thoughts and focus on your desktop, sorting out your emails and mission debriefs.
There were more urgent things on your plate that needed your focus than an indecisive ex-boyfriend.
The biggest storm of your life was on the horizon, and you were so sure that come tonight, you would finally get the answers you needed.
The tapping of his fingers on the table resounds like a metronome in this quiet restaurant.
Zayne picks up his cup of water, brings it to his lips and pauses. Setting it back down, he glances at his watch for what feels like the 178th time in an hour. A bouquet of fresh jasmines lie on his lap, and he thinks they might be wilting by the second for every minute you donât show up.
Though it was unlike him to jump to conclusions, Zayne held a small flicker of hope that you would change your mind and see him tonightâdespite how his text to you remains unanswered.
Someone clears their throat, knocking him out of his reverie.
âSir, may I bring you some appetizers while you wait?âÂ
The waiterâs smile is thin, and behind his sincere question, Zayne senses the pity shining in his eyes.
It bothers him, somehow, that people would feel sorry for him.Â
If anything, he thinks they should mind their own business; not jump to conclusions.
He heaves in a deep breath and shakes his head. âNo. Please, get me the bill. I apologize for taking up your time.âÂ
The waiter nods and disappears back to the kitchenâpresumably to gossip to his colleagues about a random lonely man he had to serve tonight who was stood up by his date.
Somewhere to his right, a table full of young women were eyeing him, whispering behind their manicured hands. But, he pays them no attention, signing the bill and standing up, clutching the bouquet of flowers by his side.
Zayne steps out of the restaurant, and notices the darkening sky roiling above.Â
It was going to rain tonight and he hoped that wherever you are, you would have an umbrella on hand. He wouldnât want you to get sick, and was about to pull out his phone and remind you when he stops short at a message flashing across his screen.
Sheâs hurt.
Dr. Greysonâs chat bubble appears, and then pauses. It starts typing again, and Zayne holds his breath, suddenly feeling uneasy all over.
Your girlfriend. You need to come to the hospital now.
He barely wastes anytime, rushing right to his car. Zayne guns it down the highway, straight for the hospital, no thought in his mind besides worrying for your safety. When he arrives, it was like that night he met you near the Forest; a nurse was hurrying into the ER, someone was yelling for more bags of blood, and there, in the fray, was Xavier, broad sword strapped to his back.
âWhat happened?â
Zayne feels his heart in his throat when Xavier turns to him, grim in the face.
âA calculated attack⌠an explosion.â
âExplosion?â The surgeon feels like his head is about to combust. A vein throbs in his temple and he narrows his eyes. âWhat caused it? Is she okay?â
âIâm trying to find out, too,â Xavier mumbles back. âBesides, it was my fault. You don't have to worry anymore after what you did to her.â
Frost sparks on his fingertips, and Zayne tries to control his temper; willing his Evol to stay in line.
It wouldnât be wise to lash out at Xavier; it would do nothing but make you madder at him.
âWhich surgery room is she in? I can help resuscitate her if necessary.â
The Hunter opens his mouth, but it's Dr. Greyson who interjects. âDr. Zayne, sheâs in Operation Theatre 2. Awaiting anesthesia.âÂ
Zayne turns on his heel, leaving Xavier alone with his silent judgement.
âI need a full body evaluation on the patient to determine the exact location of overpressures and debris. Keep the defibrillator on standby. What category is the blast coded as?â
âTertiary, Dr. Zayne.â
He swore under his breath, wincing. The same blunt force injuries that would traumatize a person who was involved in a car crash, fall, or collapsing building.Â
What did you get yourself into, Y/N?Â
Zayne has no time to ruminate; he has to save your life.
A hand on his shoulder stops him. Greysonâs heavy eyes permeate through his soul, rooting him to the spot. For a single second, the fatherly concern shining in his gaze reminded him of another elderly doctor; one who was forever lost in Mount Eternal. âAre you sure you can do this, Dr. Zayne? Are you well enough to take on this task?â
The implicit concern was clear.
This is your girlfriend weâre talking about. Can you handle trying to bring her back from the brink of death?
Zayne nods, bracing himself for another long night.
âI will try to undertake this with everything I have, Dr. Greyson.âÂ
He stops, correcting himself. âI have to undertake this with everything I have, Dr. Greyson. I believe I do not have a choice.â
Suspended. Floating.
Trapped.
It was completely dark where you were, no light but a flickering blue ember in the distance. Reaching out to it, you found it dancing just out of your reach; taunting you with even more confusion.Â
You had no idea how you came to be here or what happened that led you to this strange place.Â
In this limbo, time neither exists nor moves forward.Â
You were just here. Just being.
Hours mustâve passed. Or, was it days?
You felt a softness wrap around you. Once or twice, you thought you remembered the feel of someoneâs lips on your forehead. The shape of a hand whose fingers intertwined with yours. A whiff of a familiar cologne you couldnât quite place.
It was dark where you were, but you were never alone.
Someone was always beside you. Talking to you. Drawing you closer and closer to that blue flame.
â... Iâm sorryâŚâ
You caught that word a lot.
Sorry.Â
Sorry.Â
But, for what?
Who was that voice apologizing to?Â
And what had they done wrong?
You would never know the answer. Except, one day, it appears before you, shining like a periwinkle blue sky opening to a new world.
The blue flame glows brighter, almost encompassing you.Â
Please⌠Iâm scaredâŚÂ
You tried to scream, tried to push back.
But, it grew bigger and brighter. About to swallow you whole.
Was this how a new star was born? Did they see an unbearably bright light before they were engulfed in the flames of being?Â
Were you a star right now?
The flames hurtâfuck, they were lapping at your hands. Your arms. Your flesh turns a sickly pale blue, about to drop off your bones.
But, you donât fight back this time. The burn feels almost sacrificial. Sacred.
Like a ritual you had to push through to see the other side.
So, you gritted your teeth and dug your heels in the ground; staying absolutely still. Letting the embers flicker at your feet, caress your sides and hair.
â... sheâs waking up!â
â... quick⌠nurse!âÂ
âZayne⌠sheâs backâŚâ
Thereâs a commotion in the distance. You feel like youâre about to orbit another universe, your space ship drifting and attempting to dock with this strange planetâs gravity system.Â
The bright light pierces through your sticky lids, and you feel askew, like you could fall off this new planetâs axis anytime.
A familiar sharp scent permeates your nose, and you groan, the sound low and groggy.
âSsh, donât be scared.â His voice is familiar, a low timber which sounds exactly like home. âIâve got you. Come back when it feels safe for you.â
Despite your hesitation, you drift back into the abyss, feeling the warmest brush of lips on your forehead again.
You want to reach out to that bright light, hold it in the middle of your palm. Fighting hard now, you wade past the molasses of your sluggish mind, forcing one eyelid to pry open. And then, another.
Finally, you blink, slow and unhurried. Swiveling your head to the side, it felt like you were in slow motion, every action delayed by three seconds.
The word was entirely made up of a blur. It was all too white. Too loud.
Someone cradles your face, and your world tilts. You find yourself sitting up slightly, a familiar face you knew and loved swimming into view.
His bright green eyes solidify, and you make a sound in the back of your throat.
âItâs alright,â he whispers, full of reassurance and relief. âItâs quite alright, my Aurora. Youâre safe now. Safe here.â
âZ⌠Zay⌠Zayne?âÂ
You force your tongue to cooperate; it feels like a clumsy eel in your mouth, twisting and turning in a slippery mess. Moans and low grunts emitted from the back of your throat, and you wince with every word you struggle (and fail) to enunciate.
âSsh,â he mumbles, and you feel something circular and hard slipping in between your lips. âItâs water. You have to drink it from the straw. Do you remember how to sip?â
The motion comes back after a few tries, and you hesitantly imbibe the cooling liquid.Â
âGood girl,â he whispers, patting your head gently.Â
You struggle to pin your eyes on him, wondering what type of lights were shining above for him to appear so bedazzlingly in front of you.
The room is empty, and itâs only him here with you. Outside, the world was pitch black, but here, you feel like every beam was dancing in Zayneâs eyes; the relief in them washing over you, calming your spiking heart rate.
âYouâve been in a coma for three days, Y/N,â he informs in a low whisper, sitting beside you. Taking your hand, he presses it to his lips, kissing each knuckle reverently. âI donât want to push you, but you need to rest. You suffered quite the blast from that attack.â
It all came back to you in an instant: Xavierâs wide, azure eyes, the flash of golden light. Searing pain and an impenetrable darkness.
You start to shake, and Zayne notices, immediately bringing another blanket from your bedside shelf and wrapping you in it. When that doesn't work, he twines his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. Ever so tender, he cradles your body, gently rocking you from side to side like you were a terrified child.
âItâs alright. Itâs alright. Youâre alright. It is normal to feel shocked after what happened. But, youâre safe, my Aurora. I have made sure of that.â
You paw at his shirt, fighting to roll the words off your tongue; remembering the unanswered text message and your instant regret when you realized far too late during your failed mission that you had basically told him not to care for you anymore.
âS⌠SorryâŚâ
âPlease,â he says in a soft, tired voice. âNo more apologizing. Donât ever apologize, Y/N. It was never your fault.â
Zayne tilts your head up, his eyes soft and warm in the dark blue expanse of this hospital room. His thumb grazes your cheek, your jaw and lower lip.Â
âYou should rest,â he murmurs, smiling when you start to pout. âAlright, my love? I am right here. I will keep you safe.â Leaning forward, he presses the softest kiss to your forehead, its warmth achingly familiar.
âI love you. Pleaseârest.âÂ
You close your eyes, inhaling his comforting scent. Nodding off, the last thing you felt was his lips in your hair, his soft whisper of, âI am so sorry for how I treated youâ dissipating into the recesses of your subconscious.
Once more, you succumb to the darkness, but this time, you do so with open arms.
âBedrest and lots of fluids,â Dr. Carol says sternly, much to your chagrin.Â
Her salt and pepper eyebrows shoot up, daring you to fight back. You stay silent, staring at your lap glumly.Â
The day is much too nice to be bound in bed; sun streaming in through the frosted glass windows, cherry blossoms dotting the sill and bird song fills the airâthe heart of winter thawing right into a dazzling spring.Â
Zayne is beside you, holding onto your purse while the doctor gives her diagnosis, trying hard not to smirk at your crestfallen expression.Â
âI will write a note to the Hunters Association to give you a month off. Lay off the dangerous missions, wandering into closed off zones, and getting yourself into trouble.â
She signs the paper with a flourish, tears it, and hands it to Zayne. Not even giving you a chance to protest.Â
âThank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Carol,â your boyfriend says with a curt nod, pocketing the strip.
She returns his gesture, pushing her rimmed glasses up her blunt nose. âYou take care of her, Dr. Zayne. Keep her out of trouble.â
Zayne helps you stand, letting you lean against his arm for support. âOh, believe me. This little Hunter will be very well rested before sheâs finally allowed back onto the field.â
You fume next to him, though with your warming cheeks, Zayne thinks you look a lot like an adorably pissed chipmunk. Before the door closes, you remember to politely give a small bow to Dr. Carol, despite how you were livid at her treating you like a wayward child.Â
âDonât pout,â he murmurs, poking your side as you both tread down the narrow hallway. You flinch, glare deepening.Â
âWhat am I going to do for one month? Sit around and collect dust? Zayne, you have to speak to her. I canât stay at home all the time,â your tone goes whiny, and he musters a quick chuckle.
âDarling, you know I canât just interfere with another doctorâs advice. Besides, I wholeheartedly agree with the decided diagnosis.â
Warm sunlight spills across your cheeks; you take mincing steps, still getting used to walking after a full week of rotting on the hospital bed. But, Zayne is patient with you, holding onto your arm while he keeps you steady, matching his pace to yours.
He continues. âYouâve been overworking yourself since we took a break. You need to rest before your body shuts down.â
At the reminder of the separation you both endured, you made a face. âMaybe I shouldâve stayed broken up with you for a little while longer to find my answersâŚâ
âAnd risk throwing yourself headfirst into more conspiracy theories like a pig-headed fool? Be grateful we were given another chance,â he retorts without missing a beat. âYou would be severely injured if I werenât here to give you a voice of reason.â
You quieten, watching a cherry blossom break off a tall branch and float to the ground.Â
Zayne notices your silence, and nudges you. Glancing at him, you see a shadow of a smile etched on his lips.Â
âI know you must miss the outside. How about we come to an agreement? Take your medication, get loads of rest, and Iâll bring you out every evening to see the cherry blossoms. Would this be more suitable for a âpunishmentâ, my Aurora?â
Your heart skips a beat; youâve missed hearing your favorite term of endearment from him.
âOkay,â you murmur, considerably happier. âYouâve got yourself a deal.â Holding out your pinky right in his face, Zayne chuckles again, but indulges you, wrapping his smallest finger with yours.
âIt is a deal,â his voice is softer, fringed with amusement and tenderness.Â
Zayne is a man of extremes; rarely meeting you in the middle.
When Dr. Carol had advised against strenuous activities for at least a week while your body heals, she didnât take into account that Zayne would refuse to even touch you in any way other than as a caregiver.
He would fix your meals, help you around the house, and even tenderly bathe you if you so much as breathed a request for it.
But, he would neverâin any circumstancesâtake it further.
How long has it been since weâve last been together?
You fidget in your seat, staring out a window.Â
Far too long, the answer comes back to you like a nefarious whisper. You should do something about it.
And you do have a plan. Granted, itâs half-baked and needs a dash of liquid courage to work, but nevertheless, it was a plan.Â
Zayne would be home in exactly an hour, and that was the bulk of time needed for you to get ready.
You washed your hair, brushed your teeth, did your skincare and makeup; there was an attempt to style your locks but you gave up halfway only to let it air dry while you slipped on some silky lingerie. It was his favorite setâblack and lacy with a sheer mesh covering the cups that left little to the imagination.
Catching your lower lip in between your teeth, you try to rearrange yourself on the sofa, chest out and hoping your lipgloss hadnât faded yet; squirming to position your limbs so that it didnât look like you were a splayed starfish.
The door unlocks, and you hold your breath, a big grin fighting to break through your expression.
Zayne blinks the second he notices you, his doctor's coat bundled up in one arm and the other hand holding his briefcase.
â... Hello?â
You sit up, hoping to God you were at least seductive when you cross your legs, giving him a sweet smile.
âHello, doctor. Welcome home.â
Those gorgeous green eyes flit to your chest, and his jaw ticks under your scrutiny.
You expect him to at least compliment you, or ask what you were doing in bewilderment. Not sayâ
âYou are going to catch a cold if you keep this up.â
Before you can react, he sets down his briefcase and wraps you in his coat, drawing you to his side.
âZayneââ you mumble, dismayed. He keeps you tightly to his chest, like you were going to disintegrate without his support anytime soon. âZayne!â You fight free from his grasp, giving him an exasperated glare.
âHello? Here I am trying to seduce you, and you just mother henned me!â Pressing your palms flush to his broad pecs, you push him back firmlyâexasperatedly. âThis is so embarrassing!âÂ
Petering off into a whine, you huff and cross your arms. Missing how his eyes darken ever so slightly at the sight of the skimpy fabric stretching across your tight nipples.
Taking in a deep breath, Zayne fights the urge to throw you over his shoulder and give your ass a firm squeeze (or smack, seeing as how his self-control was steadily declining). You were making it so hard to keep his composure under lock and key. He channels that frustration into a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
âYou are single-handedly the most infuriating woman I know on this planet.â
Without warning, he nudges you back, until youâre flush with a wall. He leans forward, and you hold your breath, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw.
âYou know other women?âÂ
He canât fight back an exhaled laugh at your petulant words. âNo. Of course, not. None of them can compare to you, my Aurora.â
His minty cool breath fans across the sensitive strip of your neck, drawing goosebumps down your arms.Â
âYou are so infuriating,â he noses the length of your jaw, breathing you in. The heat emanating from his broad chest is overwhelming; it makes you dizzy with lust, thighs squeezing together to alleviate the tension throbbing in between them.Â
âA menace⌠youâre impossible to deal with.â
His large, veiny hands grip the fleshy domes of your ass, squeezing them heartily. âHavenât had you in so long.â Longing coats his every husky exhale. âI miss you so much⌠but, you arenât at your peak health, my love. I do not want to hurt you again.â
Zayneâs dizzying warmth distances away from you and you actually cry out softly, grappling onto his shoulders to keep him in place. He gasps, low and taken aback, hips clipping into yours.
âNo, pleaseâŚâ you feel your face burning up; never were you this desperate to feel him. âI need you, Zayne. I really, really need you.â
His groan reverberates in his chest, sounding like it came straight from his tortured soul. âYouâre going to kill me.â
âPlease,â you whimper. âI need you.â
Strong hands lift you up, pin you right to the wall.Â
Zayne doesnât give you any time to breathe. His mouth is on yours, ravenously drinking your moans and mewls.Â
For a man whose Evol is ice, his hands run ridiculously warm; grabbing at any flesh he can find purchase onâyour thighs, ass, breastsâsqueezing them firmly.Â
Fuck, you gasp into his mouth. Oh⌠ZayneâŚÂ
The room spins, nothing but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears filling your mind.
He sucks on your bottom lip, desperately rutting his hips into yours. You feel him growing harder against your thigh, straining behind his slacks.
Boldly, your tinier hand rests on his bulge.Â
Naughty girl, he rasps. Youâre asking for trouble now, little one.
A shiver runs up your spine which has nothing to do with his now colder hands running down your sides.
His Evol drops the temperature around the room, a faint glow of blue ice coating his fingertips. He runs those freezing pads down your exposed skin, catching right on the tops of your breasts. Your pelvis. Inner thighs.
You cry out when he teases your mound through the lace with those cold fingers, back arching wantonly.
âI want to see this pussy beg for me,â he murmurs. âI want to see her drip.â
Slowly, like you were a present he was leisurely unwrapping, Zayne pushes down your bra straps, until the cups are barely clinging to your heaving tits. He presses loving kisses down the strip of your throat, stopping shy of your areolas.Â
Stop teasing me, you whine, and his warm breath caresses your nipples as he exhales a laugh.Â
I canât⌠Iâm having too much fun, my Aurora.Â
He licks and sucks on them until theyâre dripping with his spit, achy and tender to the touch. While he loves on your nipples, one hand slips in between your thighs, finding your twitching center.
Zayne eases the seat of your panties out of the way, and you bite down on a whimper when the cool air brushes your swollen clit and damp folds.
âSo wet,â he murmurs. One finger drags through the slick mess, finding your clit and rubbing circles on it tenderly.Â
Proving he was more man than robot like how you always teased him, Zayne slides to his knees and looks up at you with pure devotion.
Iâm going to eat you out right now, my Aurora, he whispers. Is that alright with you?
Fuck, yes. You almost scream. He didnât need to even ask; you were begging for it. His tongue, friction, anythingâyou swore you were about to die from the anticipation.Â
Hitching your right leg over his shoulder, he eyes your pussy with a dark look, one which makes you think of a predator cornering his prey.Â
Sheâs so pretty, he muses. I wonder if sheâs missed me at all.
âYes,â you breathe into the darkening living room. The blinds are still wide open, streetlights staining his apartment floor a warm, orange glow.
Sheâs missed you so much, Zayne.Â
The sight of his pink tongue flitting out to touch the corners of his lips, the perfect arch of his cupidâs bow running against the slinky lace, almost makes you explode.
Prying your panties crotch to the side with his teeth, Zayne breathes in your scent, his perfect nose pressed right to your glistening cunt.
âGood,â he mumbles to himself. âBecause Iâve missed her like crazy, too.â
His tongue running through your folds catches you by surprise, your cry rebounding across the room.
If it werenât for his strong grip around your thighs and waist, you wouldâve melted to the floor like a snow draft on a hot summerâs day. Zayne held you up as he ate you out; lips and tongue giving you the sweetest friction you had been dreaming of.
Youâre so worked up, he breathes in between sinful licks. Zayne mouths your clit, tongue sliding through your folds like he was made for this. Thereâs nothing but the wet sounds of his mouth on you; his tongue flattens, and you drag your clit over it, hips twitching, getting yourself off.
His cock twitches and he knows he would be the one to swallow his own words; how he wants to get you dripping when heâs the one leaking in his pants like a horny teenager.
Fuck, fuck, Zayne mumbles, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. He bites on the plush flesh, loving how you tense and squeal.
His teeth grazes the sensitive flesh, making you flinch. Youâre so responsive, itâs making him heady.
Deep groans well from his broad chest, and you swell with pride. Only you had the power to make the reserved, stoic, measured Zayne go crazy on your taste.Â
And he duly gives you the credit you deserve.
âYou drive me insane,â he mumbles, lips brushing your skin.Â
Itâs intimateâhow heâs looking at you. Those thick, black lashes that frame his perfect emerald eyes lowering; lust pooling in their depths.Â
Zayneâs lips are puffy, coated with your juices. Thereâs a light pink dusting on the high of his cheeks.Â
âAre you alright?â he mumbles softly, running those large hands you love up and down your thighs.
You nod, teeth catching on your lower lip. âZayne,â softly, you voice your need. âCan you please fuck me?âÂ
How polite. He fights back a smirk, lowering your right leg back to the ground, giving your inner thigh a soft kiss.
He stands back to his full height, towering over you. His sheer size makes your heart quicken, and your back presses flush to the wall, anticipation right in your throat.
But, heâs gentle, as he always is, when he takes your hands, pressing them to his chest.
âUndress me first, my Aurora.â
A stern command wrapped in silkâI wonât touch you until you show me how much you want it.
Your shaky hands move to his shirt, tugging on it until those pesky white buttons loosen. Scars line his chest and pecs, each of them a road your tongue, lips and fingers have explored. Down his stacked torso, more of those white indents make a home on his skin, and you briefly touch them, grazing your fingers on the happy trail leading right to his defined âVâ.Â
The buckle of his belt goes next. You slip it off, working on his slacks and underwear. Zayne silently watches, not giving a reaction. He loves this part; how you huff and warmth surges on your cheeksâhating how much of a tease he was.
But, youâre always an obedient little thing for him.Â
You would do as he said, knowing the rewards that lie behind these slight humiliations.
He shrugs his shirt and pants off, and youâre already on him.
Fumbling in the cocooning darkness, your lips paint over his collarbone and neck, right to his jaw. Zayne leans down, kisses you fully on your mouth as he lifts you back into his arms.
Swiftly, your legs wrap around his narrow waist, and he brings you straight to the couch; too impatient for the bedroom.
Your back meets the soft surface, a cushion haphazardly arranged underneath your head so you didnât have to strain your neck.Â
The mastermind has thought of it all. Your musings were cut short when he unhooks your bra, a deft, fluid motion with little to no fumbling. A surgeonâs hands surely were the steadiest.
But, they trembled lightly when he plucked at the band of your thong, gently tugging it down your thighs.Â
Beautiful, he whispers, half to himself.Â
Zayne, please. You twine your fingers in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours. Feeling his warm breath on your lips. Donât keep me waiting.Â
Hold on, beautiful. Zayne slots himself in between your legs, letting them rest around his waist. He grips your left thigh, hooking it on his shoulder and turns his head slightly to give your plush calf a kiss. His cock catches your attention, fully hard and glistening with pre-cum. Like his physique, it was girthy and thicker; imposing and intimidating.Â
Will it fit inside of me after so longâŚ?Â
A bead of his excitement pearls on his tip, rolling down the impressive shaft. You smear it across his tip with your thumb, not missing how he shivered.
âIâll go slow, darling,â he mumbles, locking your fingers with his, drawing your hands above your head and keeping it there with one hand. âTell me if it hurts, alright?â
He kisses you fully on your parted mouth, drinking in your hitched gasp. I love you, my Aurora.Â
Giving his cock a few strokes, he lines it right to your drooling hole, dragging his tip through your folds to prime you up.Â
The thickness of him breaches past your tight opening, and you cry out, back arching. Zayne shushes you, focused on not splitting you open too fast.Â
Shit, youâre tight, he hisses. I may not be able to hold myself back, my Aurora.
You shake your head, glossy eyes making something in his chest twinge. Donâtâlet me feel you entirely, Zayne.Â
âAlmost,â he mumbles, and you feel the glorious stretch; how it burns in the best way.Â
The sounds falling from your mouth were much too lewd, easily heard past the thin walls; though at this rate, you didnât care who would complain.
He breathes hard, sweat bulleting down his forehead. Finally, with one push, heâs fully sheathed inside of you.
The both of you groan in relief, his forehead knocking softly into yours. He lets go of your hands, letting them wound around his broad shoulders.
You bury your face in his neck as he starts to move, tentatively rolling his hips to get you used to him again.Â
âTaking me so well even after so long,â he breathes hard. âYouâre always so perfect for me, arenât you, my Aurora?âÂ
Mhm, your slurry moan brushes his heated ears.Â
Falling apart. He was dissolving for you faster than snow under the sun.Â
âI can feel your pretty pussy fluttering around me.â He brushes his lips across your cheeks and nose, those gorgeous heavy lidded emerald eyes sending jolts down your spine. âYou really wanted this.â
You canât do anything but moan for him, pleasure unfurling across your body like a cresting tidal wave.Â
His hips clipping heavily into yours, the dense sensation of his cock filling you up over and over again, coarse pubic hair catching on your clitâall of it were slowly edging you towards the biggest release of your life.
He fucks you slower this time, wanting to draw out the moment.Â
Weeks of separation and anxiety were condensed within this singular moment; thick gasps flowing from his mouth into yours and back again, filling the air with an unbearable tension.
I love you, he repeats again, figuratively and literally drilling his devotion into your lax body. I love you so much, my Aurora.Â
My Aurora. Mine.Â
His.
Zayneâs possessiveness leaves you reeling, overwhelming your senses. He was right, as he always was; you belonged to him, body, heart and soul. Every beat of your heart, every trembling breathâit was all his.
Only he could fuck you this good; this deep. Only he could make you tremble from such an onslaught of emotion and sensation.Â
His thumb slips into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue; your lips hollowing around it, sucking on his digit like you would his cock.Â
Good girl, he rumbles, removing his thumb and replacing it with his index and middle finger. So good for meâyouâre my sweet little girl, arenât you?Â
Yours, you mewl, mouth and voice thick with his digits. All yours, Zayne.
The pressure buildsâreaching a fever pitch. All of it piles up; heady breaths, sloppy thrusts, his moans and groans slurred into your hair.Â
He moves his mouth to your throat; sharp sting of his teeth blends with his murmured praises. But, you canât focus on anything beyond his cock pumping inside of you, the mess heâs fucking out of you. It smells like sex in this room; musky and heady.Â
The couch is shaking, clawed feet dragging across the floor. Somewhere in your foggy mind, it registers that his downstairs elderly neighbor would surely be storming up to confront him. But, no distractions exist when youâre in the circle of his arms.Â
He probably wouldnât even hear her knock over your keening moans.
Something about Dr. Zayneâthe meticulous, righteous Dr. Zayneâignoring someoneâs distress because he was too busy fucking you, makes the taut string of your impending orgasm snap.Â
Good girl, he whispers; groans when he feels your nails stab into his shoulders. Doing so good for me. Generous hands grip your ass, lifting your back slightly off the sofa. Can you give me another one?Â
His selflessness would be the death of you. Zayne hadnât even cum onceâtoo focused on your needs.
Your head lolls back, feathery moans tainting the air with pure sin. Your thighs spread further, taking him deeper.
âZayneâŚâ
âMy Aurora?âÂ
He groans softly when you glide your tongue over the shell of his ear, breathily moaning, âCan you please cum for me?â
Strong shivers wrack his body; his sharp mind drawing a blank.
âPlease,â you mouth his pulse point, drawing your hands back to his hair to give his dark locks a tug. âGive it to me, please⌠wanna feel you all hot and pulsing inside of me.â
Fuck, he bites your shoulder, thrusts growing sloppier. Fuck, fuckâ
Heâs been holding back on you; not wanting to hurt you when you wanted it to hurt.Â
You wanted the heat, the overwhelming need. Whining, you whimper please, please, please, over and over again.Â
Give me your cum, Daddy.Â
That does it. Zayne grits his teeth, a lusty groan of pain and ecstasy brushing against your neck. His cum fills you up steadily, first in spurts, then a fulfilling warmth which coats your walls, drawing deeper into your body with every pulsing contraction; a mini release set off by his own.
He slumps over you, skin growing cooler to the touch. You glide your fingertips over his sharp shoulder blades, feeling frost coating your fingers. They melt instantly at your touch, leaving your skin damp with both sweat and the residue of his Evol.Â
Zayne shudders, rubbing his cheek against your jaw and neck like a sated beast.
You twitch your hips, and he pulls out slightly; the fullness of him unplugging and dribbling down to join the mess of both your releases onto the couch.Â
He stays deep inside of you, lips tangled with yours; the both of you unable to let the other go.
âAre you alright?â he asks into the afterglow. You squirm a little, feeling his softening cock twitch.Â
âMhm hmm,â you flash him a satisfied smile and he fights back a chuckle. You wiggle your butt, biting on your bottom lip. âI love how full I feel of you right now.â
Zayne squeezes your hips, an exasperated and exhausted smirk gracing his perfect mouth. âLittle minx.â
He holds your cheek, smoothes his thumb over your lower lip.
âYou do know how much you mean to me, donât you?â
His face is hazy, eyes soft and full of love in the faint light.Â
You rest your palm on the back of his hand, melting into his warmth with your eyes half closed and a small smile lifting the corners of your lips.
âPerhaps.âÂ
You donât give him time to recover from your quip, flipping him over, both of you still connected from base to tip.Â
Zayne doesnât think heâs ever seen such raw beauty held in one person before; how your skin glowed in the muted orange glow, pretty eyes filled with a passionate ruin.
âBut, if you let me take care of you this time, Dr. Zayne, I might be inclined to believe so.â
His hands span across your lower back, smoothing down your hips.
âAnything,â he mumbles hoarsely, an accessory to your seduction. âDo anything you want to me, my Aurora.â
You mumble his name, honeyed with devotion and lust.
And Zayne doesnât care how many times fate would push you two away; like the tide to the sea, he would always come back for you.Â
As many times as it would take. For as long as he could.
âI love you, Zayne,â you whisper, tinier palms pressed to his chest; taking your turn to fuck him.
And he knows you would do it again, too; go through it one more time for him. It was the nature of your loveâa push and pull as old as the sea tides.Â
But this timeâmost definitelyâhe makes a firm vow that it would be the very last time you were taken away from him.
â it is safe to say i am insane over this man i fear. reblogs and feedback are appreciated !!
ÂŠď¸ all works belong to lalunaymph. do not copy, repost, translate or share across any other platform
#𦢠writes#zayne love and deepspace#zayne angst#zayne smut#zayne x reader#zayne x you#love and deepspace
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Unwanted Masterlist
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. Completed.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
Warnings: 18+ Minors: GTFO; I donât serve your kind here.
"*" indicates explicit sexual content (each chapter will feature its own warnings as needed), language, alcohol/drug use, drunk!Bucky, drunk!/high!Reader, pick-me!oc, angst, mentions of CSA, angst, emotional affair, angst, physical infidelity (dependent on your pov), canon-level violence, emotional trauma, did I mention angst?, some fluffy moments, destructive behavior, injury, medical conditions, poorly translated Russian, unprotected anonymous sex, murder, minor oc character death, mentions of SA and torture, underage drug use, mentions of sex trafficking, mention of child injury.
More will be added as the story progresses, and some chapters will have specific warnings that I will keep under wraps to avoid spoilers. When we get to those sections, I will let you know, so if there is a specific trigger that you absolutely cannot handle, let me know and I will tell you if the section is safe. As always, please let me know if I miss any warnings.
Word Count: 155.2k
A/N: And here I present unto you, my beloved, the fruit of my labors these many past moons. Seven months in the making. My magnum opus.
Tumblr says this post has too many links, so for Chapters 27, 28, 29, and 30 (the epilogue), please use the navigation links in the first part of each chapter.
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Part 1 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/6/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/6/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/8/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 4 (Posted 3/9/24) Part 5 (Posted 3/9/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/10/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/10/24)
Part 1* (Posted 3/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/12/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/13/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/15/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/16/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/17/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/17/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/19/24) Part 3* (Posted 3/19/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/23/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/26/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/27/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/28/24)
Part 1 (Posted 3/29/24) Part 2 (Posted 3/30/24) Part 3 (Posted 3/31/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/01/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/02/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/03/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/04/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/05/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/6/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/7/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/8/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/8/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/9/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/10/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/10/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/11/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/12/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/12/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/13/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/13/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/14/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/14/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/14/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/15/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/15/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/16/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/17/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/17/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/18/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/19/24) Part 5* (Posted 4/20/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/20/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/20/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/21/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/21/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/22/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/22/24)
Part 1 (Posted 2/23/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/23/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/23/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 5 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 6 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 7 (Posted 4/24/24) Part 8 (Posted 4/24/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/25/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/25/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 2 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 3 (Posted 4/26/24) Part 4 (Posted 4/26/24)
Part 1 (Posted 4/27/24) Part 2* (Posted 4/27/24)
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđđđđđđđ (đđ)đđđđ
đđđđđđđđ
- sylus x reader
master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive contentâminors do not interact!âangst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry
note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg tagging @sanriosatoru per request <3
Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.
The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.
What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.
âI don't mind to spend the whole night with you,â heâd whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.
And youâd respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.
âAhh... ah!â Before you knew it, his cockâthick and long in sizeâslid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.
âKeep me going with your voice, kitten.â Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. âYeah, just like that...â
Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way tooâ
âIs this... all you've got?â you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. âSurely... y-you can do better...â
âHa,â he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. âCareful what you wish for... sweetie.â
And then your vision literally tilted upside downâSylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.
ââ!â Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.
He broke into a satisfied smirk. âLet it out,â he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. âYou never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, donât start now.â
âYou b-bastard...â you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.
He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.
It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.
You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.
âTired?â Sylusâ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. âI really like this look on your face right now.â
You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. âI bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.â
âHow presumptuous.â He sent you a sour scowl. âI have a high standardâ you should consider yourself lucky.â
Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. âIâm cold. Clean me up already.â
âNow, now⌠what a spoiled little thing you areâŚâ Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.
Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.
No strings attached.
This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?
At least, you thought so.
. . .
âDamn, youâre going to make me soreâŚâ you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. âAhh...â
Sylusâ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. âWell, Iâm just that good, and you did ask for it.â
âAre you going out?â you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. âItâs midnight.â
âLuke and Kieran said she has arrived.â Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. âAfter all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.â
The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.
A part of you didnât really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. âWill you bring her here too?â
âIâll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,â he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.
Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himselfâhe isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evolâthe Speech Manipulationâwhich is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.
This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. âWell, consider me jealous then. Seems like Iâll have a rival soon.â
Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.
âHa.â Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. âIs there even anyone brave enough to go against you?â
You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. âWe shall see about that.â
Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.
You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.
But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himselfâ having her shoot him right in the heart.
âShe is funny,â he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. âShe was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.â
âIs that your only findingââ you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. ââafter shooting yourself just to mess with her?â
Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.
âIs that really necessary?â you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. âOr are you just trying to get her attention?â
Sylusâ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.
âWhatâs got you so worked up about this, hmm?â he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. âLast I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each otherâs personal affairs.â
Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.
But the fact remains that you two are nothing more thanâ
âFine.â You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldnât say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.
Until you felt a hard tug on your armâ
âAnd where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?â
Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wallâyour left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.
His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.
âHave I ever told you that you look beautiful when youâre angry?â Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. âIf I didnât know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, Iâd want you to look at me like this every day.â
It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.
âWhatâs wrong? Weâve been closer than this,â Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. âWhatâs making you so nervous?â
If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. âI hate you.â
âHow lovely.â
âYouâre infuriating,â you spat, devoid of any amusement.
He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughlyâ
âThen perhaps...â he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: âYou can help to fix me, sweetie.â
His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.
As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.
. . .
"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.
"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."
"I can't sleep."
"Poor you. I can though."
You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."
"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"
Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.
"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.
"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.
"Why are you hugging me? Weâre not usually this touchy after sex."
"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."
"You're so damn insufferable..."
Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...
You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?
âCaw, caw, caw!â
âMephisto, shush.â
Sylusâ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldnât be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.
You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.
âLuke, Kieran,â you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. âWhere did Sylus go?â
Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, âBoss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!â
You supposed you shouldnât be surprised, but you were nonetheless. âAnd he still hasnât come back?â
âAh, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. Heâs probably back or already on his way?â Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.
It irritated you, it gnawed at youâhow Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbookâ
Just as he had done when he pursued you.
Calling her âkittenâ, âsweetieâ... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.
Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.
You were petty, and you knew it.
âMephisto,â you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. âGo find and bother her, okay? Donât let her out of your sight,â you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.
Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.
You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk intoâ
Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl⌠nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.
âY/N?â Sylus looked at you over the girlâs shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.
In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. âI-itâs not what it looks like! I swear! Sylusâ I was just trying to find his brooch andâ!â
In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanationsânone of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.
You werenât sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.
âSorry for intruding,â you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.
It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.
Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldnât even find the tears to cryâas you weren't allowed to do so.
Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.
You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.
And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.
"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.
"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.
"Or boss lady?" Kieran supplied.
Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, youâd spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.
They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.
"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.
He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.
But why didn't you come to him?
And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?
However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.
At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.
You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didnât know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.
And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.
...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.
. . .
"Mm-hm, really?"
"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."
You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.
"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.
"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your nameâ"
You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"
"Very much so!"
This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:
"Halt."
He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.
"W-what happenedâ!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.
"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."
With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.
You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.
"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."
The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.
"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."
Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"
"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"
Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.
"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairsâ"
You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "Youâ!"
He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.
This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.
At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.
"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."
And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?
You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didnât reciprocate your feelings, did he?
"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprintâ
Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "Youâ"
"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."
"Listen to me!"
He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was fasterâ
"Move."
His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.
. . .
The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.
You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.
It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.
You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?
You got your answer sooner than you thought.
White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.
No, the feelings didnât go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.
And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.
"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"
"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"
"So much bloodâ! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"
"Boss! We found her!"
"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."
"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."
You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.
Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.
"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."
What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?
Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one pointâ
"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.
You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"
"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."
Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.
And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.
When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.
At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.
"Awake?"
Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.
He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.
However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.
"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.
"How are you feeling?"
"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.
The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"
His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"
"Thereâs no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You mustâve done something."
âHa, when it comes to these things, youâre sharp,â Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.
"Answer me."
"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."
"You..." you were rendered speechless. "Youâwhat? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"
Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.
"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."
"H-how... why..."
"That was your only chance, or you wouldâve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."
The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."
Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.
He gave it up to save you.
Still, it confused you.
âIf I died...â you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. âThen it just means Iâm no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.â
You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. âSo why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?â
There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?
Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.
But no, it wasnât anything sensual like he usually did. His handâlarge and warmâwas a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.
"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"
You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.
"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."
Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.
You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadnât dared to hope for more.
âThe naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,â he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. âSo now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.â
His red gaze narrowed as he added. âMoreover, since I have saved your lifeâ you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you canât rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?â
Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. âYou shameless bastard...â
And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.
Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talksâ just you being alive and well in his embrace.
âHow long have I been out?â
âThree weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.â
âThree weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?â
Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. âItâs been horrid.â
Neither of you would be caught dead saying âI love youâ, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.
#sylus x reader#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#l&ds x you#sylus x you#sylus angst#sylus smut#sylus fic#lads smut#l&ds fic#lads angst#lads sylus#sylus l&ds#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#l&ds smut#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#love and deepspace scenarios#lads fic#love and deepspace fic
6K notes
¡
View notes
Text
small favours
â joel miller x fem!reader
â warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts
â a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and itâs literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah⌠i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and itâs finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.
You hadnât asked for much.
It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you donât know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, itâs just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?
Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know theyâd all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.
It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jacksonâs walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasnât safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, theyâd get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.
It wasnât that you werenât likedâ you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didnât see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.
All that anti social behaviour certainly didnât win you any favours thoughâ hence the still broken door. You loved itâ you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so⌠win-win.
There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasnât so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, thatâs the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable providedâ that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days heâd come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then youâd fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.
Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and youâd work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joelâs low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldnât deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.
âHey, you stillâ damn. What happened here?â Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because itâs his voice calling you do you look up.
âItâs been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, butâŚâ You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. âI guess they had other shit to do. I canât move it on my own.â
Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.
âSo you were planninâ on sitting in here all night?â The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. âYou gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?â
âOkay, it was a dumb plan. But, itâs that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.â He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.
âYou take him, Iâll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.â Before you can protest or tell him he doesnât have to, heâs walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.
Youâd always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. Itâs far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just⌠peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.
You lead Joelâs horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like himâ quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking itâs demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.
âSaved you your favourite spot.â You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so wellâ at least, he was definitely older than most. âSee? Heâs right up there.â
The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joelâs porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know itâs there. You donât come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you canât help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardyâ you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.
When you find your way back to the front, Joelâs footsteps are trudging back down the hill. Youâll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you canât seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but thatâs mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.
âYou donât have to, Joel. Really, Iâm sure someoneâllââ
âNo, they wonât. Knowinâ the people around here, youâll be sleepinâ on the floor till next year.â He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.
In a few passing thoughts youâd never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just soâŚcapable. He could do so many things so easilyâ and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.
âWhat happened?â He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.
âI have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but itâs soââ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesnât even look like he tried. ââheavy.â
âCome âere and hold it straight.â He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. âI wonât let it fall. Come on.â
âLike this?â You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.
âPerfect.â He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.
âYou really didnât have to do this, but thank-you.â Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.
âLeast I can do. Everyone should be up here helpinâ you anyways.â He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. âKeep holding it still.â
âYeah.â You manage, eyes fluttering closed. âPeople help, though.â
âOh, I bet.â He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.
âThey do! Sometimes⌠I mean, itâs not their fault. Iâm kind of a hermit up here. I donât really make an effort, so I canât blame them.â He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.
âYouâve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. Theyâd die out there without âem. Carl doesnât know his left from rightâ he got lost eight times last patrol. Itâs cause of your horses he got back safe.â Joelâs face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. âDoesnât matter if you ainât makinâ friends. This ainât middle school, and people should be helpinâ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.â
âThatâs why I keep you around, Joel.â You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.
âGood. You tell me next time, and Iâll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.â You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. âHow do you know so much about horses?â
âI lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, theyâre easy to navigate once you get to know them.â Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you canât help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. Itâs not even scarred yet, still fresh
âYou okay?â He says softly, tilting his head.
âYour face.â His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. âSorry. You⌠did something happen on patrol? You have a cutââ
âJust a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldnât handle.â The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. âGood as new.â
âYou should clean it.â You say, worry edging in your voice. âIf it was clickers.â
âIâm fine.â He shrugs it off.
âCome on. Itâs the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.â He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. âSit. Iâll get the kit.â
âYes, maâam.â You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. âWhy you got a first aid kit in here anyways?â
âYouâre using it now, arenât you?â You turn around, raising your eyebrows. âYouâd be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. Itâs not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.â
âAnd none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?â He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.
He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.
Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesnât flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.
âDoes it hurt?â You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.
âNo.â He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like heâs straining to keep himself still. âTold you it was fine.â
âAnd I told you I wanted to help.â When youâre satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. âYou might need stitches. Itâs deep.â
âGo on.â He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.
âYou want me to stitch your face together?â
âGood practise, and I trust you.â The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.
âIf I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.â When you find what youâre looking for, you straighten, Joelâs face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isnât lost on him either. Itâs probably the most emotive youâve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard heâs biting down.
âItâs already messed up. Youâre fine.â He manages, his voice strained.
âHold still.â Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and itâs when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.
âSorry. Shitââ
âItâs fine. Are you okay?â He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. âYour face isnât messed up.â
âHuh?â
âItâs not. Messed up.â You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. âThere. Youâre pretty again.â
Your breathing was rapid even though you didnât have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His handsâ strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.
The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joelâs hair. Itâs never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.
âJoel.â You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you werenât so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.
âThank you, darlinâ.â You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why heâs so easy to fall into. You donât even really notice how dark itâs gottenâ you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joelâs here, and with him this close, you canât think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.
âCan I kiss you?â He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.
âOnly if you hurry up.â You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.
Itâs anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesnât take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.
You let him inâ youâd let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when youâve been starved of something for this long it doesnât matter what he does itâs just that heâs giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.
You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.
âFuck, darlinâ. Come closer.â He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then itâs wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. âYeah. Right here.â
Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. Thereâs something equally hard and soft about his handsâ rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how theyâre careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.
At some point you have to breathâ both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling tooâ like actually smiling, not that half smirk youâve seen so often.
âWhat are we doinâ?â He laughs, kissing you again.
âI donât know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesnât smell like horse shit?â You whisper and he laughs again. Itâs sounds so goodâ like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. âPlease, Joel. I really wantâŚâ
âTell me, baby.â He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly⌠âFuck knows I wanna hear you say it.â
âYou. I really want you.â He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, thereâs only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joelâsâ two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.
For the first time since youâd been here, you really donât care if people are looking at you, or what theyâre saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often heâll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.
He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porchâ one youâve spent way too much time staring at from afar, youâre both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. Youâve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.
âLet me take this off.â He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. âGod damn gorgeous.â
âYour turn.â The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. âJoel.â
âNothinâ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.â As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.
âPlease take your fucking shirt off.â You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. Heâs clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.
âOr what? You gonna make me stop?â He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. âNah, you wonât make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, donât you?â
âBut I wantââ
âShh, shh. Iâll give you what you want.â His mouth his dizzyingâ words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. âThere you go, darlinâ. Feels good?â
âGodâ yeah, faster. Please.â Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. âFuck, Joel!â
âI know, baby.â He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it buildingâ pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joelâs unrelenting grip.
He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.
Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have thatâ to see skin youâve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.
He doesnât help youâ too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark thatâs lighting you up inside.
âShirt, Joel.â You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesnât give you the time to admire him that youâd like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.
âPerfect.â He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.
It doesnât take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like heâs fucking hungry for itâ pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.
Thereâs no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undoneâ a sight you wouldnât be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldnât be able to hold out under him much longer.
âJoel. Joelâ fuck.â His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. âOh, godââ
He doesnât say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.
You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.
âYouâre so soft.â He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for himâ draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. âSo fucking soft. Sweet.â
âYou like that?â You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. âI can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.â
âWhatever you want. Fuckâ anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.â A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but youâll settle for giving him just one.
He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be⌠he was big. It made senseâ he was a big guy, but it wasnât just that. He was just⌠perfect.
âEyes on me.â He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. âI want to see your face when IâŚâ
He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.
He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel fullâ the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, itâs the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.
âFuck, baby. Feel so good around me.â Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like itâs a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. âNeeded to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, arenât you?â
âYes, Joel. Please, I needâ need you to move.â You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that youâve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.
âGood girl.â He groans, and then picks up the pace.
Itâs devastating. Itâs the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you arenât entirely sure he didnât just create himself. Like heâs forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesnât seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.
You are incoherentâ overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesnât fucking shut upâ and itâs about the hottest thing youâve ever experienced.
âSo fucking tight around me.â
âGod, you feel good.â
âYou are so beautiful.â
âGonna fuck you for days.â Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. âOh, fuck thatâs it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christââ
âJoel.â You can only whisper nowâ voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.
The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.
He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.
âWhatâs so funny?â He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.
âJust happy. Can I be happy?â Itâs meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.
âYeah. Yeah, you can be.â He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. âI am.â
You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, youâd be able to see the stable from here, but itâs black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joelâs safe arms, thereâs nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel killer x y/n#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x reader
12K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK
Pairing:Â Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk thatâs probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count:Â 12k
Series Masterlist
Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isnât the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesnât smile, he doesnât appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesnât help that heâs incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. Youâve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist đś: on the way home
A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! đ Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe đ)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I donât know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! đ
Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always đĽ°
Jung Hoseokâs smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. Itâs light and infectious, but more than anything, itâs genuine. Thereâs comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; thereâs this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.
It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his familyâs company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. Youâd see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.Â
You wouldnât have expected that five years after that, youâd be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.Â
He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. Heâd spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, heâd preside over meetings with vigor, and heâd start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.
Itâs that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with âyou worked hardâ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.Â
âThank you for all that youâve done,â Hoseok says. âI know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. Iâm gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.â
Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that itâs Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseokâs executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change heâll be experiencing starting next week, heâs the one affirming and comforting you, something thatâs rare for someone of his stature and something youâll definitely miss.Â
âYou know I donât cry, but I just might,â you respond, earning you a chuckle. âBut really, I⌠I canât thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials werenât like the others butââ
âMs. Cho,â he interjects. âThe only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them wouldâve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.â
âYouâre a good boss, itâs that simple,â you return the compliment now. âYou were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a personâs confidence, you know?â
âI know that now,â he smiles again. âBut really, I donât think I couldâve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkookâs lucky heâs taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.â
At the mention of the manâs name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.Â
âNot a fan of him, I see,â he eyes you curiously.
âI donât mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,â you explain. âI may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.â
âYes, I do confirm that,â Hoseok chuckles. âJungkookâs quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But heâs brilliant and creative and youâll learn a lot from him, too. Heâs being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think thatâs you. His father thinks thatâs you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.â
You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company wonât ever really go away. You didnât graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. Youâre thankful for the trust that youâve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.Â
At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. â___, as your former boss and as your friend, Iâm here to back you up. Jungkookâs family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?â
He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that youâll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesnât want you to go through that again.Â
âOkay. But I didnât mean to imply that heâs a jerk just because he doesnât smile,â you clarify. âI guess I meant to say that⌠Iâll miss working for you. Thatâs all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. Iâll miss being with A-yeong, too.â
âI know you also meant to say that Iâm the best boss youâve ever had,â Hoseok chuckles, though you donât miss the sadness in his eyes, too. âBut Iâll just be two floors above you. Youâll still see me everywhere. And A-yeongâs gonna miss you, too, thatâs why she canât let you go without having dinner out, that Iâm apparently not invited to.â
âWeâre just gonna gossip about you, donât worry,â you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times heâs cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. âBut thank you again, Hoseok,â you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because thatâs what he is, and itâs a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. âYouâve treated me well, and Iâll never forget that.âÂ
âThank you, ___,â he smiles once more. âIâll finish setting up my new office now. Iâll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, heâll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.â
âOh, so heâs coming today?â You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. Youâre clearly uninformed about this. âDidnât he just arrive last night?â
âYes, he did. I thought heâd at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say heâll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,â Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. âI know itâs short notice so you donât need to brief him or anything yet. Youâve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.âÂ
âOkay, but Iâve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,â you say, having prepared all the documents heâd need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing itâs your job to help him with that.Â
âOf course you have,â Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. âIâll see you in half an hour.â
You sulk in your seat once heâs out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, youâre the one who isnât. Youâd held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking youâd have the entire weekend for that, so youâre caught off guard at having to face him today. Itâs one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; itâs another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.
Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseokâs assistant, youâd only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when heâd fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didnât really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.Â
But youâd definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. Youâre not exaggerating when you say that youâve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when heâs talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his fatherâs infectious charm and his motherâs youthful energy.
Youâve gotten used to Hoseokâs passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because itâs what he loved to do with her. Youâre unsure how youâll manage assisting someone whoâs the complete opposite. Youâve heard of Jungkookâs abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, heâd say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps thatâs why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that youâd always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.
You didnât think those times that youâd one day be having him as your boss. You didnât expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.Â
Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support teamâs office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but youâre stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.Â
She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.Â
âItâs only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,â she laments. âWhy did they appoint him as President so soon? They couldâve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!â
You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.Â
âWe always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sisterâs place,â you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. âAnd much as heâd like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. Heâs just two floors above us, though. Iâm sure he wouldnât mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.â
âNo, Iâm bitter,â she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.
âWell, at least the new Vice President isnât a stranger,â Manager Lee chimes in.Â
âI heard the CEOâs son doesnât smile,â Do-hyun counters. âHow do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesnât think thereâs anything worth being happy about? I also heard heâs a workaholic, so what if he demands that we canât leave the office until he does? And that heâs kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have toââÂ
âYah! Those are just hearsay, and we donât listen to those,â you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.Â
And if those are, itâs your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that thereâs no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. Youâve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you werenât burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.Â
But then again, itâs natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it couldâve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, youâre now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.Â
âYouâll meet him soon, and Iâll make sure heâs properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,â you say. âLetâs just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.â
The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.Â
âOkay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,â you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.Â
Youâre busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.
âMr. Ri,â you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. âWhat are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?âÂ
Knowing youâre referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.Â
âIâm here as Jungkookâs chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,â he clarifies. âIâve just driven him from his penthouse.â
âOh,â you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. âSo, heâs here.â
âHe is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesnât waste his time when he starts next week. Heâs at Hoseokâs office right now. I believe heâs supposed to sign some documents?â
âOh shit,â you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Riâs demand for you to slow down.Â
With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseokâs office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the Presidentâs assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.Â
âHi, ___. I was just about to call you,â she says. âCEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, theyâre waiting for you.â
You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkookâs voice.
âI still prefer my old assistant,â he says, obviously displeased. âHe was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didnât even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesnât know any other foreign languages when thatâs one of my requirements.â
âSon, youâre being too harsh,â CEO Jeon chides. âMs. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. Sheâs worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how sheâs been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.â
â___ is great, Kook. Sheâs incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesnât need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,â Hoseok argues.Â
âI still want my old assistant. Itâs more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,â Jungkook insists. âIâm just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I canât be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that Iâd much rather give my attention to.â
âAnd Iâm saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,â the elder Jeon counters. âPlus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and thatâs harder. Itâs just not practical, especially since youâre due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.â
âBut Iââ
âGood morning, gentlemen,â you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already canât stand his judgmental and entitled ass.Â
You walk towards the middle of the room where theyâre congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that youâd overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.
âGood morning, Ms. Cho,â CEO Jeon says. âI know youâve seen him a few times but Iâd like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.â
Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesnât meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if itâs the last thing you think he deserves. Â
âMy pleasure, Mr. Jeon,â you respond. âI was told that youâd like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. Iâve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,â you add, handing him an iPad. âThis has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. Thereâs also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments youâre overseeing. Youâll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. Iâve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if thereâs anything missing that youâd like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.â
âHmm,â Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders youâve prepared for him.
In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that youâve provided to him, youâre given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last yearâs gala.Â
As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, youâre reminded that this is the first time youâve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.Â
Heâs unfairly handsome.Â
Heâs got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes theyâd be the lucky one heâd choose to be with for the night.
The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.Â
âIâm sure Iâll find something thatâs missing,â he states.
âIf theyâre relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,â you respond, knowing full well that youâve included every possible document that would be of use to him.Â
âIâll be the judge of whatâs relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,â he counters.Â
âOf course, Mr. Jeon,â you say, conceding. âWhatever it is, then Iâll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.â
Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections heâs missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you donât mind. Heâs the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.
Once heâs done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. âIs there anything else, Ms. Cho?â
âI suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,â you say.Â
Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. Itâs at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.
âYou can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,â the older man says.Â
âThat can wait. Iâve had enough of engaging for today,â Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.Â
âIn that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.â
You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You donât miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that itâs fine, that Jungkookâs someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesnât faze you. It doesnât change the fact that you wish he wasnât your boss though, or at least, that he wasnât such a jerk like what heâs being right now.
Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.   Â
Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.Â
âOn the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,â you start, thankful that thereâs not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. âOn the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down theââ
âIâve been here before, Ms. Cho,â Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. âThis is my familyâs building; Iâm very much aware of how the floors look like.â
Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation heâs trying to make you feel isnât gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, thatâs the only thing that will keep you going.
Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics wonât work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.Â
Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell heâs already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think heâs processing the information and making sure he remembers them.Â
There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.Â
âIâm sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But Iâm here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as Iâd like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,â he starts. âMy cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, donât expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because thatâs what I commit myself to and thatâs the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?â
âYes, sir,â the team answers in unison.Â
âWe commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,â Manager Lee says. âAs the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.â
âThatâs good, and thatâs what I expect,â Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.Â
âIs my room still being sanitized?â He turns to you.Â
âYes, sir.â
âWhy did it need to be sanitized? And why today?â
âItâs protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I donât need to come here tomorrow, as he doesnât like any of his staff working during the weekend,â you reply. âThis should be finished this afternoon. Iâve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.â
Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that heâs heading out to meet his friends.
âIs there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?â You ask, thankful that you donât have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
âNo.â
âOkay then, sir. Iâll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?â
âSure,â he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. âJust keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.â
Heâs gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once youâve heard the elevator ding that indicates that heâs gone. When you get there, youâre greeted with everyoneâs frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.
âI donât like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!â She complains. âI miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?â
âAish!â You reprimand her. âDonât speak like that. And donât let those few minutes determine everything for you.â
âWell, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I donât like him. No matter how good-looking he is,â Chin-sun says.
âHe is, right!â Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. âIâve seen him around but I didnât think heâd be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that heâs a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe thatâs why he doesnât have a girlfriend! Heâs probably too snobby andââ
âYah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,â you scold her this time. âThatâs your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?â
âEvery washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?â Do-hyun responds.Â
âAnd since when do we listen to gossip,â you scowl at her. âSure, heâs not our favorite person right now but we donât have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!â
âPeople talk, I guess,â she shrugs. âAnd heâs often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. Iâm not saying theyâre all accurate⌠just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?â
âNo, I donât, and we shouldnât be sticking our noses in places where they shouldnât be,â you say.
âFine, but itâs just a heads up,â Do-hyun says, turning serious now. âYouâre his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and thatâs just how our worldâs set up.â
âSheâs right,â Chin-sun chimes in. âI mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out⌠You just got lucky that Mr. Jungâs pretty chill and has a wife whoâs even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.â
Youâd laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know theyâre both right. Hoseok wasnât perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.
But with Jungkook as a single man, youâre unsure what personal business youâd end up being involved in. You just wish it wasnât something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isnât something you can even really talk about with others.
âWell, I donât wanna think about any of that right now,â you sigh, knowing youâve got enough to worry about, such as how youâre going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesnât want you around.Â
But if heâs gonna be a hard-head about it, then youâre just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because youâre determined to prove yourself constantly, and youâll just show him that he needs you, and he doesnât really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.Â
You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. Youâre no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didnât notice the time fly by; before you know it, itâs 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.
âHi,â she chirps, hugging you in greeting. âAre you ready?â
âIâll just pack my things,â you say, walking to your desk.Â
A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. âThis looks so different from how it used to be. And thatâs good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. Heâs into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.â
You know that despite her kindness, she wouldnât lie, and you could only hope that sheâs right. You think it looks nice, but itâs what he thinks that matters; youâll just have to wait until Monday to find out.Â
As youâre about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.
âIâm sorry about Jungkook, ___. Heâs stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isnât always like that, and this isnât me making excuses for him,â your former boss says.Â
âWhy, what did he do?â A-yeong asks worriedly.Â
âBasically implied that Iâm not qualified for this role, among other things,â you respond. âBut itâs okay. Not like I havenât heard that before.â
âAnd you know thatâs not true,â Hoseok comforts you. âHeâs not good with change, thatâs all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and heâs just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, donât take them to heart. Heâll get a word from me, and heâll definitely get one from his father.â
You want to say that itâs not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; heâs your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But youâre not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that youâve experienced a bit of what itâs like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.
âHeâs probably just tired,â you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. âAnd he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. Iâm just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and heâll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.â
âBut that matters though,â Hoseok insists. âI got things done because we worked well together. Heâs gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And Iâll make sure that he does.â
âI know you said you want to look out for me but I donât think itâs a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,â you say, letting him know youâre serious and you mean business. âIâll be okay, donât worry about me.â
You give him a comforting smile, and you hope itâs enough to quell Hoseokâs own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and itâs the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.Â
You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.Â
All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.
Jungkookâs apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you havenât been to yet, as itâs one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.Â
You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. Itâs Monday, after all, and itâs your first time here; you donât want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.Â
Youâre about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.Â
There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and itâs probably due to the boxing heâd just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way heâs panting heavily.Â
You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if youâre the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you canât deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.Â
âYouâre here,â he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.
âI asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,â you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. âPerhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if youâre not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.â
You donât actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and heâs the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistantâs scheduled to come. You wouldâve appreciated it if he says you donât need to apologize, but he doesnât.
âItâs fine, I just finished,â he huffs.Â
He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.
âSo, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jungâs outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?âÂ
âSure. I just donât have any staff with me so youâre on your own. Iâm fine with anything though. Iâm not usually hungry in the morning,â he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.
You follow him, careful not to enter spaces youâre not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.Â
âHow will you prepare my clothes from there?â He huffs. âOf course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.â
You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. Heâs already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.Â
You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. Thereâs really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.
Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.Â
He looks away and says itâs fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where youâve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.
âThatâs⌠thatâs all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,â you say. âI can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes andââ
âIâm having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,â he says, as he takes a bite of his food. âSo, whatâs my week like?â
You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings heâll be having this week, including who theyâll be with and their purpose. Theyâre mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and youâre thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkookâs questions are more specific than you expected.Â
Sure, heâs a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, heâll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, heâll be involved in crafting policies; heâs also free to manage his own construction projects, and thatâs what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.Â
You suppose itâs why his questions donât stop, even after heâs cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes heâs made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that heâs also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you canât help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly donât feel too annoyed.Â
But of course, he has to ruin it again.
âI need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,â Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. âAnd I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe youâre trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.â
âYes, sir,â you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that youâre unsure of the need for them before the meetings.Â
Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know youâll be cramming to get everything done.Â
You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and itâs times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so youâd at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.Â
Itâs not to say that work wasnât overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now youâre stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isnât enough.Â
You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkookâs room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.Â
Itâs an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasnât exactly a good start of the day.Â
They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkookâs coffee, remembering from his former assistantâs notes how he wants it. Heâd put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time youâre doing it for him.
His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.
âTwo espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,â you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.
He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.Â
How bold of you to assume that heâd thank you or even acknowledge it, as if heâd shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasnât.Â
You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.Â
It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didnât miss the way heâd acknowledged them with âgoodâ and âwell done,â and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you canât process how itâs his non-acknowledgment thatâs just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, youâre unsure if thatâs on him or if thatâs on you.Â
Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. Thereâs a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.Â
You saw the excitement in your team membersâ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that youâre all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your dayâs been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period heâs giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.Â
You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that youâre all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, youâd have to match Jungkookâs ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.Â
Youâre clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you donât have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that youâll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.Â
You donât realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkookâs form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if youâre done with the annotated documents.Â
âIâll send it in five minutes, sir,â you say, hoping heâll at least give you that.Â
âOkay,â he responds. âCome to my office after youâve sent it.â
âYes, sir,â you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.Â
You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. Itâs quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and itâs at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.
You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if youâre too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkookâs eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but itâs not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.Â
It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkookâs assistant.
âDo you need to step away, Ms. Cho?â He asks, not meeting your eyes.Â
âOh, itâs not⌠uh,â a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. âI just had a busy lunch break.âÂ
You settle for that, a hint that youâd spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt youâd get anything close to that from this man.
Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesnât ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.Â
Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.
âMr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,â he instructs his chauffeur. âSheâs too busy right now.â
âWill do, Mr. Jeon.â
Taking minutes of a meeting when youâre starving is not a good thing. You know this because youâve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. Itâs also not rare to miss out on lunch because thereâs a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.Â
But just because youâre used to it, it doesnât mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. Theyâre so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that youâre documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You donât even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but itâs really not helping your concentration.
You hope the way youâre nibbling your lips doesnât give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.
[From: Min Yoongi] you didnât have lunch, did you?Â
You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.Â
You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and thatâs on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.Â
It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.Â
You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didnât hear you because heâs already on the phone and heading out the door. But itâs that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. Youâre not surprised anymore to find out who itâs from.
âEat,â Yoongi says from next to you. âI could see your hands shaking from across the table.â
âWhat about you?â You ask, your lips in a pout once more.Â
âYou know I donât eat these things,â he shrugs.
He doesnât, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and heâd saved these so he could give them to you.Â
âTen years later and youâre still trying to make sure I eat, huh?â You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.
âIf I donât, who would?â He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. âYou have a bad habit of not doing that.â
âWell, duty calls. What can I do?âÂ
âTake care of yourself even if itâs hard,â he replies.Â
âSays the man who rarely does it himself,â you chuckle.Â
âYou know, the best advice I give are the ones I donât actually follow, so disregard the fact that I donât even do what I say because they apparently work,â he says. âBut I mean it, ___. Eat this now.â
âThanks, Yoongi,â you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.Â
Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose itâs enough to not make you faint at this moment.Â
âAnd eat a proper dinner, okay?â He follows up.
âIâll be off late, so Iâll just grab something from the convenience store,â you say. âThatâs as proper as I can afford tonight.â
âAish, fine,â he shakes his head. âBut let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts wonât taste as good without one.â
âThat would be life-saving,â you dramatically say. âWhat did I do to deserve a friend like you?â
âDonât know. I mean, Iâm not that great,â he shrugs.Â
You playfully roll your eyes. âIâll save the compliments once I have the coffee.â
âYeah, yeah, whatever,â he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.Â
You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that youâll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. Itâs 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.
âThis is all they have left,â he says. âI hope it can last you until tonight.â
âIt will,â you smile. âThank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I donât think I wouldâve survived all these years without you.â
âWow, all because of coffee and snacks,â he laughs, teasing.Â
âItâs a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,â you tease back.Â
âYeah, whatever,â Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.Â
Youâre thankful that after everything thatâs happened, youâre still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.Â
âAnyway, Iâm quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume itâs still here? Unless itâs in the archive room,â he continues.
âItâs within five years so it should be here,â you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.Â
You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.
âNeed help?â Yoongi asks.
âAnd what help could you give, huh?â You tease again, earning you a playful groan.
âYou brat.â
You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.Â
âJust make sure I donât fall and embarrass myself further today,â you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.Â
You feel Yoongiâs arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and itâs moments of relief like this one that youâre glad youâre afforded after a long day like today.Â
From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, heâs never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isnât agitated or serious.
He knows that thatâs probably on him. Heâd spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But heâd been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.Â
Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that heâd be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone heâd only heard of as Hoseokâs assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didnât even impress him.
Jungkook doesnât like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; thatâs the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.
But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. Heâs been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didnât really plan to.
That doesnât mean that he didnât plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. Heâd been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.
He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. Heâd never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and itâs the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesnât get rattled the next time you counter him.
Thatâs why he demanded more work, which he didnât intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. Heâd seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what heâd bought but heâd left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.Â
Maybe there wasnât enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesnât think heâd ever see that directed at him, considering how heâd been to you on his first day, but maybe thatâs also good; that could be his defense. Maybe itâd help quell that initial attraction that he doesnât want and cannot allow at all to grow.
It doesnât mean it doesnât agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like thereâs something there.
Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isnât exactly advisable, but heâd gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.
But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.
âHey, Yoon,â he says as he opens the door. âCan we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.â
Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkookâs voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didnât expect the two would have.
âThis building is a good starting point,â Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. âIf this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. Iâll just ask ___ for the files I need.â
âYou two seem close,â Jungkook says too quickly.Â
Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didnât expect heâd hear. More than that, he tries to read whatâs underneath it, knowing that his friendâs tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.
âYou could say that,â Yoongi replies. âShe did say that no oneâs looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldnât have survived all these years without me.â
âSo youâre actually friends?â
âYes.â
âWere you more?â
Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer heâs looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.
âDoes it matter?â The older man asks.
âJust donât want to be surprised, thatâs all,â Jungkook shrugs. âIf thereâs an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.â
âIt happens here a lot,â Yoongi responds. âI mean, it gives people something to gossip about but itâs how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.â
Feeling like he wonât get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesnât know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.Â
But itâs what prompts Yoongi to reply.Â
âWe met when she was just an intern,â he says. âWe used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.â
Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.
âI also asked her out before,â Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. âYou just canât help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didnât want to lead me on because she didnât feel anything more. She also doesnât like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.â
âHow are you still friends?â
âAsks the guy whoâs still friends with his ex,â Yoongi laughs.
âChaerin and I are civil, thereâs a difference. And we havenât spoken in years.â
âYou loved her, though,â Yoongi counters. âI never got to that point.â
âThis isnât about me,â Jungkook huffs.Â
Knowing itâs a topic that his friend doesnât like talking about, Yoongi relents. âI moved on. That was years ago,â he says. âAnd it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, sheâs not from here and her friends arenât here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didnât think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? Thatâs all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.â
âHow brave,â Jungkook remarks.Â
âYou mean mature?â Yoongi corrects. âYes, thatâs what I am, and itâs the best I could be for her. Especially since sheâs got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, thereâs just so much to do for your first day on the job.â
âDonât remind me,â Jungkook groans.Â
âI will. Only so you could feel bad.â
âI already do. Thatâs why IâŚâ
âBought the pastries,â Yoongi finishes. âI mean, I didnât order them.â
âWas any even left for her?â Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and heâd been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.
âSort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.â
âYou sure you donât like her anymore?â Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesnât understand. He finds you attractive, thatâs it. He doesnât know why his mind searches for more answers.
âYou donât have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?â Yoongi responds. âAnd she needed it. Heavens know the support sheâd need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.â
Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because heâs the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldnât call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.
âHey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say itâs from me?â
âThe food hallâs closed,â Yoongi says.
âThe cafe down the street, then?â
âYou canât be fucking serious,â the older man groans.Â
But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because itâs easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space thatâs become comfortable because heâs been the only one inside for so long.
So Yoongi does as heâs asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what itâs for.
âJust thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day youâve had,â he says.Â
âHey, those are delicious,â you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. âBut thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.â
âJust make sure to eat on time so I donât have to buy your dinner again,â he teases. âI mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?â
âOkay,â you smile brightly. âGet home safe tonight.â
Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. Thereâs this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow thatâs enough to lessen the guilt for now.Â
He still doesnât know if heâll ever see that smile directed at him or if heâd ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; itâs trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. Heâll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesnât push you away in the process.
Series Masterlist
Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxxâ @di0rggukâ @thequeen-katâ @fan-ati--c  @cravingforhotchocolateâ @adoraminieâ @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshineâ @kookxinâ @petuliii @yoursthvâ @libra04â @fancycollectormoonâ @twixxxpieâ @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-gââ @bids97ââ @minyoongiboongiâ @main-bangtansmauyeondanââ @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker
Series Taglist: @xhazmania @ash07128 @rinkud @junniesoleilkth @junecat18 @peachytokki @baechugff @coralmusicblaze @jalexad
#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook series#boss jungkook#boss au#workmates au
3K notes
¡
View notes
Text
After Hours
DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language
WC: 8.2k I am so sorry
A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth
Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last nightđ)
Universe Masterlist
You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too.Â
"Mhm, and she saidâ Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher.Â
The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher.Â
"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion.Â
"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now."Â
Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student.Â
"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you.Â
Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father.Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too.Â
Leon Kennedy.
"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad.Â
She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt.Â
"I'm sorry daddy."Â
"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in.Â
"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes.Â
"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks.Â
"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.Â
"Whatâ y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet.Â
"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless.Â
You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous.Â
"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression.Â
Seriously?
"Okay."Â
"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting.Â
"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?"Â
"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this."Â
He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes.Â
"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it?Â
"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.
"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?"Â
You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed.Â
"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head.Â
"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you."Â
"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat.Â
Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feelâ No. That's inappropriate. Focus.Â
"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms.Â
"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty."Â
"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom canâ"Â
"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed.Â
You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot.Â
"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."
"I am. It's just that my jobâ"Â
"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again."Â
Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed.Â
"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant.Â
"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough.Â
"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?"Â
"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time."Â
He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss."Â
~~~~~~~~~~
"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess.Â
"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.
Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad.Â
"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?"Â
"Yes. He said he would." Good.Â
"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.
"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad.Â
It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy.Â
"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here."Â
She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours.Â
"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.
As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh.Â
"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about.Â
"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He'sâ" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec."Â
She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her.Â
"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime."Â
"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh.Â
"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will."Â
"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself.Â
"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation.Â
You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong.Â
"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face.Â
"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes.Â
His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face.Â
"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty."Â
Now it was your turn to be fluttered.Â
"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly.Â
"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy."Â
"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you.Â
God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead.Â
"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."
"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face.Â
"Yeah well, I try."
"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did.Â
"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table."Â
"Mrâ"Â
"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time."Â
You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm.Â
"I'll be seeing you around, Leon."Â
He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note.Â
Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. âMiss
"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon."Â
"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble."Â
"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"
"I asked if she wanted to, actually."Â
"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?"Â
Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph."Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there.Â
"Woah⌠You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly.Â
"Thank you. You look good too."Â
"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown."Â
The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit.Â
You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if thatâs what he wanted.Â
âMmm Leon,â You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. âIzzy. Is sheââ
âNot here. Sheâs at my friendâs for the night.â He answered in between kisses.
âYou have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Arenât you lucky?â
âCan we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin.Â
A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave. Â
Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed.Â
He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back.Â
"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess.Â
You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.
You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met.Â
"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.
"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath.Â
A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable.Â
"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?"Â
You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded.Â
"Yeah, okay."Â
He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down.Â
"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you.Â
Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs.Â
"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable.Â
A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence.Â
"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.Â
"Please." A weak plea was all you could say.Â
"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on.Â
"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care.Â
"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question.Â
"I⌠Yes Iâ Of course I can handle you."Â
Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again.Â
"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me."Â
You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle.Â
"I won't break Leon."Â
A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point."Â
He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit.Â
"Oh myâ" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck."Â
Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed.Â
"Shitâ Leonâ!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you.Â
He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that.Â
"Fuck fuckâ Shit Leon pleaseâ" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Pleaseâ I'm so close please, please don't stop."Â
Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard.Â
Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak.Â
"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.
You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it.Â
"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me."Â
When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain.Â
But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock.Â
He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet.Â
He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling.Â
"Leonâ" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress.Â
"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock.Â
"Iâ I'm sorryâ" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head.Â
He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times.Â
"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though."Â
With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him.Â
Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you.Â
"Leonâ Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress.Â
"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you.Â
He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this.Â
You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.
With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear.Â
"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?"Â
You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame.Â
"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words.Â
Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress.Â
His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist.Â
"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing.Â
Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too.Â
"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck."Â
He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long.Â
"Ahâ Shitâ Leonâ" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wannaâ"Â
"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's itâ Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me."Â
He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now.Â
"Yeahâ yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuckâ Fuck I'm gonnaâ Shit."Â
He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him.Â
"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left.Â
"Oh fuckâ fuck that's a good girlâ Ahâ" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that."Â
His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you.Â
Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on.Â
"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.
You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile.Â
"Of course not. I⌠I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride.Â
"Well, I do like to be the exception."Â
"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled.Â
You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacherâ who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you.Â
"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused.Â
"I mean⌠I'm supposed to, right?"Â
Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?"Â
"Well. Uh⌠Yeah. I mean, Izzyâ" He cut you off right then and there.Â
"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't⌠I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I justâ"Â
Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now.Â
"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips.Â
"I wouldn't mind either."Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you.Â
He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing.Â
You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you foundâ his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge.Â
Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom.Â
Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around?Â
"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen.Â
You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh.Â
"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead.Â
"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.
He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.Â
You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips.Â
"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too."Â
You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them.Â
"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you.Â
Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit andâ
You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath.Â
You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen.Â
"It says Claire."Â
Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically.Â
"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?"Â
He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh.Â
"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon."Â
Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry.Â
"It's Izzy. I left her at my friendâs and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest.Â
You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night."Â
"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets⌠Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter.Â
"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could.Â
"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?"Â
The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried.Â
"Yeah, I'll be around."Â
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy
3K notes
¡
View notes