#he's got a lot going on in my head (again. I swear its cause I love him) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

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Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?)

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there. “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there. He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel

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writingsonsaturn · 7 months ago

Note

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee.

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up.

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch.

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted.

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

#tim bradford x reader #reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you

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roosterforme · 6 months ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You felt exhausted and unappealing at the start of your third trimester, but according to your husband, you were still perfect. Just as you solve one problem for your friend, you inadvertently cause another one for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Bradley eating pussy, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

As nice as your second trimester had been, as soon as it ended, you were exhausted all the time. And you were once again starting to feel nauseous every morning. Maybe your mom was right and you needed to eat more than random foods dipped in hot sauce sporadically all day long. Your belly was also starting to change from a cute bump to a tender, oversized monster. When you mentioned it to Bradley, he scoffed.

"Don't call my Nugget a monster."

"I'm not talking about the baby!" you said as you started to get dressed for work in your maternity tent, gesturing at your body. "But there's a lot going on here."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted as he pulled a clean flight suit from the closet, eyeing you up and down. "There sure is. You look fantastic."

"I feel tired. And gross," you told him as you got dressed.

"That's just the hideous uniform talking. You didn't feel gross last night when we were snuggling. And you certainly didn't look gross."

You wanted to agree with him, but you were in a bad mood. The attic still wasn't finished even though your contractor, Bradley Ross, was at your house so frequently, it felt like he had moved in. And your parents would be here in four days. And your house still wasn't decorated for the holiday. And the only gifts you managed to buy were matching pink tropical shirts for Bradley and the baby to wear next summer.

Your husband zipped up his flight suit and made his way around the bed to where you were standing. "Would you feel better if I picked up dinner on my way home so you don't have to cook?"

"Probably," you muttered, trying not to smile.

He kissed your forehead and gave you his most innocent looking gaze as his fingers grazed your belly. "And after that, I'll eat your pussy until my jaw locks up and you're in tears from too many orgasms?"

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you could say, "Please."

"Then it's a date, Baby Girl," he said before kissing you on the lips, leaving you to chase him for another feel of his rough mustache before you let him leave for his early flight time. "I love you and the Nugget!" he called from the hallway.

"We love you, too!"

Five minutes after he left, you were still getting ready for work. In fact, when your doorbell rang and Tramp went running through the living room, you were still buttoning your tent shirt. "I'm coming," you called out, already knowing it was your contractor. When you pulled the door open, your shirt was buttoned mostly correctly, and you told him, "I'm just about to head out."

"Okay," he replied, taking you in before you stepped aside for him. It didn't matter what your husband said, you were a bit of a hot mess right now. And that reminded you that you needed a little bit of hot sauce before you left for work.

"Do you need anything from me?" you asked Bradley Ross, and his gaze dipped down to your horrible uniform.

"Not at all," he replied, turning toward the stairs. "Enjoy your day."

You parted ways and headed for the kitchen, and you realized your shirt was even worse than you anticipated. You had to unbutton and rebutton the whole thing while your bread was in the toaster. When it came out nice and crunchy, you dipped it into a dish of hot sauce and ate it in four bites.

"It's so fucking good," you moaned at Tramp before scooping him some breakfast. "No hot sauce for you. Just for the human baby," you told him, holding your hand near your belly button as Rose started doing her somersaults. "You're up late this morning," you told her, deciding you better stop in the bathroom one more time before you even attempted the short drive to work with her bouncing on your bladder.

As soon as you were done and walked back through your bedroom, you eyed your bed longingly. "No," you told it, turning away from temptation and walking out to your red Bronco in the driveway. You backed out past the other Bradley's truck and drove to base.

You were already hungry again by the time you got there. When you turned the corner to your office, you found Maria standing next to your door. "Are you waiting for me?" you asked, and her gaze snapped up to yours. "I'm surprised you're here this early with Bob blowing your back out twenty-four hours a day." Tears filled her eyes instantly, and you rushed toward her. "Oh my god, Maria, what's wrong?"

She let you pull her into an awkward hug with your belly in the way, and she sobbed instead of responding with words, so you let her cry. She had been preoccupied at brunch with you and Cam, but she definitely hadn't been like this at all. If anything, she'd seemed like she was lost in a dream world with her French toast the other day.

She sniffed and managed to whisper, "Bob's being deployed for some special mission. He just texted me. He's leaving the day after Christmas."

"Oh," you gasped, rubbing her back as she cried. This would be the first time her boyfriend was deployed since they started hooking up a few months ago. They would be fine. You knew they would. But you recalled all too easily what it was like when Bradley was gone when you and he were first dating. It made you feel sick to recall the feelings of self doubt and uncertainty, especially now that your daughter would be arriving in three months.

You were about to tell Maria that Bob's deployment would feel terrible but wouldn't last forever when she said, "I have to break up with him."

"Pardon?" you asked, completely thrown by what she said. "I thought you were in love with him."

"I am," she cried as you finally unlocked your door with her clinging to you and managed to get her inside. "But I can't tell him that now. We've been taking things a little slower after taking things really fast right after he moved in."

You were trying your best to piece everything together, but it just wasn't all fitting in your mind. "That's good," you said gently. "So why would you have to dump him? You love him, and he'd be coming back to you and the apartment when he gets home?"

She looked at you and shook her head. "I can't expect him to go months and months without having sex. We do it like at least once a day," she whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Maybe he'd agree to take a break? I don't know. But I can't get upset when he wants to hook up with someone else on the aircraft carrier."

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out. "Maria, I really don't think you should be hasty here."

She just shrugged in your arms before pulling away from you and wiping at her tears. "You're so lucky you have Bradley." She left you standing there, unsure what to say.

---------------------------

All of the holiday decorations had Bradley a little stressed out. Some of his neighbors had lights on the palm trees in their yards, and there was even a tree inside the guard house. He could remember very little about his dad, but Bradley could remember everything his mom did until he died. For the life of him, the one thing that escaped him was how she made even the most basic things feel magical.

She must have done it effortlessly, because he never took the time to look behind the proverbial curtain to see how it was done. There were always presents under their little Christmas tree even though he realized after she was gone that it must have been a struggle. And now Bradley wasn't sure how he was going to do the same when it all just seemed so stressful.

He snorted as he made his way across the tarmac to the tower. All you said you wanted for Christmas was a babymoon trip and a million orgasms. But you could have asked him for either of those on any day, and he would have given them to you. He needed to find something else for you, too.

"Are you having a baby shower?"

Bradley looked up to find his best friend was looking at him as soon as he walked into the rec room to get a drink. "Good morning to you, too," he said, reaching past her into the refrigerator.

"You need to have one, okay?" she said. "Your wife will like it."

Bradley felt a little more anxious, because he was going to have to admit he was clueless when it came to this topic as well. "Isn't that something her mom should do?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "That's a lot for her mom to handle when she lives on the other side of the country."

He cleared his throat. "Well, what do you even know about baby showers?"

"More than you," she said easily. "Which is why I'll take care of it."

Bradley sighed in relief. "You're not going to give me a hard time about this?"

"Of course not. When have I ever done that sort of thing?"

"Literally since the first time I met you," he muttered as she walked away. But he knew he had nothing to worry about; Nat would make sure you had exactly what you wanted or needed in any scenario.

A minute later, when he got called out to the tarmac, he found his best friend wrapping Bob up in a hug. While he wasn't invited into the conversation, he could hear the dreaded word 'deployment' as he walked past on his way to his jet, leaving him to assume Bob got a notification this morning. Poor Bob, but at least it wasn't him for once.

When he took to the air, Bradley immediately felt a bit calmer. He would figure out how to take care of everything with you by his side. He would make things special for Rosie in his own way. He could share all the things with her that he loved about his mom.

But the thing that calmed Bradley down most of all was arriving in the cafeteria for lunch in time to see you. "Sweetheart!" he called out, cutting in front of Jake and Javy to get to you faster. You had a burrito bowl in one hand and a bunch of little packets of hot sauce in the other, and you still looked cute in your tent uniform. Your face lit up when you saw him, and even though he reeked of jet fuel, you let him give you a hug.

"Do you know where Bob is?" you asked after you kissed him on the cheek. "He and I need to have a conversation."

Bradley ran his hand along your belly, hoping to feel a little thump from the Nugget. "I think he's been notified about a deployment," Bradley muttered.

"I know he has," you replied with strong annoyance in your tone. "Oh, there he is," you said, looking past Bradley. "Excuse me, Roo." You kissed him and added, "I love you, but I need to take care of this. I'll see you at home later when you're going down on me?"

Bradley nearly choked as he muttered, "Okay," while Jake and Javy clearly tried to hide their surprised and amused laughter.

You hurried off in Bob's direction as Javy said, "Nobody better try to call Rooster tonight."

"Silence your cell phone," Jake said, clapping Bradley on the back while he blushed. "Eat your lunch but save room for dinner."

"Fuck," Bradley grumbled, walking away from them as they laughed. Just for that, he'd make sure he was on his A game at home. He'd also have to remind you that your voice tends to carry when you're annoyed.

-----------------------------

You set your lunch down across from Bob at one of the small tables with only two seats. He smiled as you slid into the chair opposite him, and he greeted you by name. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You're not sitting with Bradley today?"

You followed his gaze to where your husband was sitting with Nat and Mickey. "Nope. I wanted to sit with you."

"Okay," he replied, still smiling. "But I'm actually waiting for Maria?"

"She's not coming."

His smile started to fade. "She's not?"

"She's not," you confirmed. "She told me you're getting deployed soon." When he nodded, you asked, "Do you like having a girlfriend?"

His smile was back. "I like having Maria as my girlfriend."

You were shaking your head as you started emptying packet after packet of green hot sauce onto your lunch. "And are you planning on sleeping around while you're gone?"

"No." His voice sounded hoarse, and his face went pale.

"Glad to hear that," you told him as you rammed your fork into your burrito bowl.

"Why would you think I'd want to do that?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his brow creased in concern.

"I'm not the one thinking it. You better ask yourself why Maria might think you'd want to do that."

Bob's eyes went wide even as he blushed bright pink. "I don't know... I thought she knew how happy I am. I told her she makes me crazy... I said... I s-said I want to go at it all the time now. I've never been with someone like her." You shoved a bite of food into your mouth and chewed it up while he processed his words. "Wait... does she think I'm like obsessed with getting laid? Because I'm certain I'm just obsessed with her."

You nodded as you swallowed, proud of him for piecing it together so quickly. "Seems that way. You have about a week to put in some legwork if you don't want her to break up with you." In an instant, you were left with Bob's abandoned tray as your only lunch companion, and when he didn't return, you ate his breadsticks and baked pasta.

This was turning out to be the longest day imaginable, and when you finally climbed into your Bronco to head home, you were yawning. Then when you pulled into the driveway, not only was your Bradley not home yet, the other Bradley was still working. You grumbled as you made your way inside, where he was hammering something upstairs; you couldn't even start taking your horrible uniform off in the living room after you opted to wear it home today to get here faster.

When you let Tramp out of the laundry room and sent him to the backyard, you were fighting the urge to take your shirt off and walk through the house topless with every fiber of your being. You made it to your bedroom before tearing it from your body along with your uniform pants. You eyed the bed. You were tired enough to get in and stay there, but you wanted your reward for making it through the day.

"Takeout and head," you whispered, nodding in the mirror with a grin. You turned from side to side, examining your belly and your breasts. Rose was moving a lot today, so much so that you almost noticed it more when she took a break. And your boobs did look pretty nice. You took your bra off and added it to the laundry pile, and that's when your husband walked in.

"I brought pizza, Sweetheart," he said before his lips parted in soft surprise. "You trying to get started without me?" he groaned, reaching for his belt.

You bit your lip, and shook your head. "Do you think we should wait until the other Bradley leaves?" you asked, earning a devilish smirk from your husband.

"Didn't stop us last week when we had sex in the laundry room while he was working. And it didn't stop you from sucking my cock while he was here the week before." You squeaked as he smacked you on the butt and whispered, "You promised me I could have your pussy the second I got home."

"Did I?" you asked, climbing onto the bed, and he was right there with you, hovering over your body as you stretched out. When he nodded, you said, "Then I guess it's all yours, Roo."

But that wasn't even where he stopped first, and you shouldn't have been surprised. His lips met the valley between your very perky breasts while he unzipped his pants. Then you watched him rut gently into the bed as he licked and sucked on you. He had some particular fascination with your chest right now, and he was almost reverent in the way he touched you.

The sounds of hammering and soft music playing from upstairs were really doing it for you. Getting nasty while you weren't quite alone was always enough to get you going, but on top of that, your husband was so turned on by your weird pregnant body. You felt like a queen as he plucked at one nipple and then the other with his lips, leaving your skin damp to the cool air. Your nipples were furled into tight peaks as he whimpered your name.

"I can't get enough," he murmured, letting his mustache scrape along your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked from the bed as he let his teeth graze your nipple. "Where do you want my mouth?" he asked, meeting your eyes even as his tongue darted out to trace the undersides of your breasts.

"On my pussy," you gasped.

"I can't hear you."

"On my pussy!" you cried out, and he smiled that wicked smile again.

"Now everyone knows," he growled, leaning on his forearms and treating you to the flex of his biceps as he pushed your thighs apart and settled in.

---------------------------

Bradley had one perfect tit in each hand and his face buried in your soaking pussy. Each time he thought you were getting close, he lazily kissed along your dainty rooster tattoo and up to your belly. Once he even paused to say hello to his daughter while you dug your heel into his back and begged him incoherently to put his mouth back on your clit. And he did so with a smile.

Was he rock hard? Yes. Would he love to cum right now? Absolutely. Was he enjoying every second of the way your body felt and tasted? Definitely. Could he wait until he got you off to let himself unload? For sure.

Your tits were getting bigger and more enticing by the day. And your swollen belly was clearly all his doing. He was grinding his cock into the bed as he slid his hands down to your thighs, spreading you a little wider as he licked all around both of your holes until you were whining his name.

"Fuck," he grunted. Bradley Ross had just turned off his radio. That meant he was getting ready to head out for the day, which also meant the hammering had stopped. You were getting loud as hell as Bradley pressed his nose to your clit and lapped up your wetness. He was only concerned for a split second about your volume before he decided to just carry on. It wasn't like the contractor hadn't seen how hot you were with his own two eyes. Nobody could blame a man for getting at his own wife as much as possible, especially one with massive, pregnant tits and the prettiest face imaginable.

"Roo!" you moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit. "Let me come, Daddy."

You were tired. He could hear it in your voice. The bedding was a little damp from the mess you and he were making, and his jaw truly was starting to ache. When you released the bedding with your left hand, Bradley could see the sparkle of your engagement ring before you dragged your fingers through his hair.

Okay, now he needed to get off pretty badly, so he slipped two fingers inside you, and as soon as he did, you came. "Damn," he grunted against your clit before circling you with his flat tongue as you rode his hand and yanked his hair. You were riding him as he pushed on the back of your thigh until he couldn't take it any longer.

He barked out your name as he got to his knees and thrust his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as you were coming down from your orgasm, and that just made you come for him a little more as you shook your head back and forth on the pillow. One more deep thrust, and he came too, with his hands on your tits and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

When you opened your eyes, you had the most serene look on your face. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose as he pulled his cock free and grunted. "You know, the guys heard your little pussy eating comment at lunch today."

"Oops," you giggled, running your fingers softly over your tits as he stood up and started fixing his clothing.

"I got roasted for it all afternoon." But he was all smiles, because he really wouldn't have it any other way. "Come out and get some cold pizza when you're ready. I'm going to see how it's coming along upstairs."

You just nodded, and Bradley took one more look at the messy creampie he gave you before vanishing out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. The Craftsman smelled like sawdust and fresh paint, and he was really hoping the project would be completed in the next few days so your parents could sleep up there during their stay. Otherwise he might have to gag you during sexual activities, and he was only half joking in his mind.

Bradley Ross was carrying a paint can and some rollers down the stairs, heading right for the front door. "Have a good night," he called out, barely pausing to get through the door. Perhaps he'd heard your beautiful chorus of moaning. Didn't matter, but Bradley had hoped to ask him how much longer he thought the project would be. Instead he climbed the stairs to investigate for himself.

It looked incredible, and it seemed like a lot had been accomplished today. Two bedrooms of identical size were both primed and ready for paint. The hardwood flooring looked perfect, and the new windows were letting so much natural light in. The bathroom wasn't large, but it did have a tub and a single sink vanity, and the tiles you picked out looked pretty.

He shut all the lights off and headed back down to the kitchen where you were wearing a pair of his underwear with a maternity tank top, dunking a slice of pizza in some hot sauce. "How's it looking?" you asked. He knew you were talking about the attic, but he couldn't help himself as he grabbed a slice from the box.

"It's looking sexy and pregnant and like it just had an orgasm." You burst into laughter as he added, "The project upstairs looks good, too."

--------------------------------

Later that week, you got a vague text from Bradley letting you know that he'd be late getting home from work. You were expecting maybe he'd be home around six or seven, just in time to help you wrap the presents you ordered for your parents, but he didn't get home until almost eight, long after Bradley Ross left for the day.

He was quiet and looked contemplative when he walked in. "Hi," you called out from where you were sitting on the couch, and he finally met your gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He made his way over to you. "Mav just wanted to chat. Is there any pizza left?"

He kissed you before heading to the kitchen, and you stared after him. "Of course there's no pizza left. I'm pregnant. And are you being weird on purpose? Why are you three hours late getting home?"

You watched as he started to pour a bowl of cereal in silence, and you weren't sure if he was even listening to you. When you made your way into the kitchen, he finally said, "There's a potential job opportunity. Remember when I filled in for a few days here and there as an instructor?" When you nodded he took a bite of cereal before continuing. "Mav seems to think I could do more of that type of shit."

Your eyes went wide at the prospect of fewer deployments for him. "That might be a good opportunity," you told him, still unsure exactly where he stood on the topic.

He just shrugged and said, "It's certainly something to think about, Sweetheart. Wouldn't really be happening until a few months from now, but I'm going to keep the conversation going with Mav."

It was then that you realized he looked exhausted. "Want to take a shower with me? I could wash your hair."

Your husband moaned softly and set his empty bowl in the sink. "Hell yes. Absolutely."

Within three minutes, you had your hands coated in shampoo, and you were working them through his thick hair while he felt around your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. "I feel like I barely got to spend any time with her this week," he whispered with a pout. "Where's my Nugget?"

You felt her give a little thump, as if she knew he was right there waiting for her. You quickly placed his hand a little higher, and he sighed in contentment. "Hey, Rose. Daddy's tired. Can we all snuggle in bed soon?" She seemed to squirm in response. "Your grandparents are coming to visit tomorrow."

"And the attic conversion should be done tomorrow, too," you told him. "That's what the other Bradley said when he was leaving today."

"Amazing. Merry Christmas to us."

You practically tucked him into bed as soon as he was dried off, but he kept reaching for you to join him. "I need to let Tramp out. I'll be right back." You walked through the kitchen and past the refrigerator which was covered in ultrasound photos. Then you straightened up a little bit while Tramp ran around the yard. By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bradley had fallen asleep with the Nugget Notebook open on his chest and a pen in his hand. You took a peek to see what he had written.

Hey, Rosie. It's almost Christmas. I'm not really good at celebrating holidays, but your mom is. Her parents are, too. I'm hoping I'll kind of figure this whole thing out once you get here. I'm thinking you'll make everything more fresh and fun for your old man. We can get better at things together.

--------------------------------

You were more than ready for a few days off. When you left work on December twenty-first, you reminded Cat that you planned on dropping off some gifts for Jeremiah over the weekend. When you got to the parking garage, you saw Maria and Bob making out next to his truck. He had her hands pinned above her head, and she was all smiles. You felt immediately better.

You knew the plan for the evening, and so did Bradley. Your parents were landing in San Diego at 6:15, and you assured them that you'd be there to pick them up. When you got home from work, Bradley Ross was finishing some details upstairs, and you were delighted by what you saw when you went to have a look.

"It's perfect," you gushed, looking around the space. The one bedroom was almost ready for your mom and dad. Someone would just need to make the bed later. The bathroom was shiny and bright and lovely, ready to be used. The second bedroom still had some wet paint, but you planned on just closing that door for a few days. "Let me write you a check for the balance," you told your contractor when he was about ready to leave. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

After you wrote out the check, you waited for both Bradleys while you dipped some grapes in hot sauce. It was almost time to leave for the airport, and you still needed to change out of your uniform tent. You undid the top few buttons and played with your necklace charms, and as soon as Bradley Ross walked downstairs with the rest of his supplies, you rushed his way.

"Here's what we owe you. Thanks again for squeezing us into your schedule so close to the holidays."

"I hope you are happy with the outcome for many years to come," he told you with a smile.

"It looks so good, I'll definitely refer my friends to you for any projects in the future."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You didn't bother correcting him when he didn't use your hyphenated last name, because as soon as he walked outside, you had your shirt off and you were rushing toward your bedroom. But as soon as you passed your mirror on your bra on the way to the closet, you paused and smiled. Your husband would love a little treat in his text messages; it had been ages since you sent him something dirty.

You snapped a photo of your boobs as they were hugged by the black lace. Then you took your bra off, covering your nipples with your hand and forearm before snapping another. Then you removed your arm and took one last picture of your breasts complete with tightly furled nipples. You expected that your husband would run into the house begging for a quickie before heading to the airport. The thought of his flushed cheeks and raspy voice made you giggle as you attached the photos and texted them away.

His hyperfixation was so fun for you right now, and you started to wonder if he was going to be as excited by your boobs after the baby was born. Would he be interested in the breastfeeding process?

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You turned toward the doorway as you straightened your sports bra and pulled an oversized shirt on. "Hi," you said, trying to play coy, but just grinning wildly instead.

"You ready to go get your mom and dad?"

"Yeah... almost. You looked down at his gym shorts where you could see the outline of his phone in his pocket. You pouted a bit when you had to ask, "Did you like the photos I texted to you?"

His brow furrowed as he patted his pocket. "What photos?"

You sighed. "The ones I sent like five minutes ago."

You watched as he unlocked his phone and started to shake his head. "I don't have any messages from you since lunchtime. What was it?"

"Thee pictures of my massive tits," you told him as you reached for his phone. But when you checked, they definitely weren't there. "Maybe I didn't tap send?" you murmured picking your phone up from the bed.

Bradley's arms wrapped around you from behind, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, "Can't wait to see them for myself." But you froze and tried to shake him off as your stomach lurched.

"Oh no. No no no no no!"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You handed him your phone and covered your eyes as you started to panic. Apparently you hadn't tapped on Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3 in your contacts. After you started typing his name, you must have accidentally selected Bradley Ross as the recipient. "Bradley! I sent them to the other Bradley!"

His eyes bugged out as he saw the photos in the message for himself. "You sent our contractor pictures of your tits!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you shrieked. "They were for you! What are we supposed to do now?!"

He pocketed both phones, heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and muttered, "I'm going to have nothing but fucking gray hair after this, I swear to god." Then he rushed from the room and you followed him long enough to watch him grab his keys and run out to his Bronco.

-----------------------------

Checking in with Maria and Bob was dramatic. Like damn. At least BG got to eat his lunch. And now we have the great Bradley mix-up to contend with. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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jaysswlvrr · 9 months ago

Text

Bratty Baby...

bratty!reader x tamer!sunghoon

warnings: sunghoons really rough bcz u were a brat >:(, random pet names, unprotected sex, kissing, teasing, dirty talk, and swearing, reader probs says 'dont touch me' when angry but its obvs doesnt mean that. (normally my smut are like a quickie and rushed but ill try to stretch this one out).

summary: You got angry, very angry that u couldn't control yourself, swore a little at sunghoon (maybe a lot), and got your punishment for being a brat.

"Fuck off sunghoon" you wrestled your way from his embrace, leaving his so called 'friend social hangout'. He looked at you in awe, chuckling a bit at your new misbehaviour.

He ran after you and grabbed onto your wrist earning an angry whine, you turned your head aggressively to his face, his charming, beautiful, face.

Wait what?

'No, no, no y/n you have to stay mad at him' you were chanting in your head.

You pulled and tugged, he was so much bigger than you that you could barely even move but you did, freeing your hands from him once again. Knitting your brows together, you push his chest a little, causing him to stumble back

"Don't fucking touch me sunghoon, fuck off!" you yelled, a finger pointing directly at his face.

*Meanwhile* (goofy jake incoming)

"What's going on with them" Jake said nose squished up on the window, his eyes huge, trying to examine the little wrestling match going on outside.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, embarrassed of his own best-friend.

"Stop stalking them like a creep, look even the birds are flying away from your dumb-ass looking face, YOUR TURNING PURPLE!", he jokingly said, stopping his friend form getting into your business.

*Anyways*

Sunghoon dragged you, pinning you to the closest brick-wall, and smashed his lips onto yours, biting your lips in the process to enter his tongue, slithering through your mouth, exploring every bit.

"You fucking belong to me ok?, don't act like a fucking brat right now alright?" He drags you to his car, opening the door for you and gently pushing you in, before slamming the door and entering himself.

He starts driving, eye glued onto the road, but yours where stuck onto his face. He doesn't have to look at you to realise that you were staring at him in trepidation.

You really didn't mean to shout at him, but you couldn't help it when he found your old diary, pictures filled with him,

nothings wrong with that...

But he teased you, so, so, much, that it wasn't even funny anymore, teased you to the point that he was about to tell his friends whilst you were hanging out with him!

And that's how you got here.

He turns his head to look at you when the traffic light turn red, and your eyes meet instantly. Now your thinking of how to apologise, but you just wont let the little bratty self in you do it. In any case right now, he should be apologising.

"You have something to say?, I mean you practically swore at me and pushed me" never breaking the eye contact with your big, doey eyes, as if he knew what you were thinking.

"Your not going to apologise are you?, you never will" he laughs a little at your obstinacy.

"m'k, ill just have to make you apologise isn't it?, just shove my cock into you and you suddenly start acting like a 'good girl' hm?" he says whilst driving again. "Then you'll listen wont you?, make you sob and cry until you apologise for being naughty again *sigh* c'mon y/n you know better."

You reach home, he runs to the side of the car where your sitting and opens the door for you, sticking out his hand for your, dragging both of you to the front door and opening the door in on swift move.

He pushes you against the door, his leg between yours, making you wetter at the moment. He kisses you once again, but way harshly. You couldn't help it, his hands running down your waist, other hand keeping you in a chokehold, firm but gently, his lips biting yours, his tongue gliding against your mouth.

You couldn't stop yourself from grinding against his, trying to find some friction eagerly, but sunghoon was too smart, quickly removing his leg and biting your neck causing you to moan whilst taking you to your bedroom.

He sat at the edge of the bed, motioning for you to come over, you slowly walked over to him, bending a little to pull down his trousers, his biceps looking bigger than ever.

"Sunghoon, can I... undress my s-self" you said looking down, but looked at him once again as he was chuckling.

He stroked your face a little, his fangs pointing out as he gave you his signature smirk, "well done for asking baby". You waited for his response...

"go ahead doll"

There you go.

The answer that you wanted this whole time.

You quickly took your clothes, layer after layer until you revealed your little surprise that you wore under. You cute, lacy lingerie, a bow in the middle of your low cut bra, revealing your cleavage.

"you look so cutee" he emphasised on the word 'cute', dragging you to his now practically naked body. He pulled down your underwear slowly, revealing your soaking wet pussy.

Pressing two fingers on your slit, and eyes never leaving your face, he watched your expression switch to a pleading face begging through you eyes for sunghoon to do something to you.

To ruin you.

"Fuck sunghoon " you pushed his hand away " Just do something, anything" You begged

He scoffed, "You couldn't even wait a little longer, such a bratty little girl" his voice deep but he was smiling the whole time.

He pulls you closer and onto his lap, watching your tight pussy stretch around his huge length. You let out a small 'fuck' due to the size change, him filling you up so well.

"Since you want me so badly do it yourself" he looked at you.

"What?"

"Fuck yourself on my cock"

You sighed so loudly, about to cry. Sunghoon was like 100x stronger than you and you could barely even move on him, but you were so desperate, trying your best to fuck yourself.

You put you hands on his shoulder, slowly bouncing up and down on his huge length, letting out long, dragged moans due to the felling, but when you opened your eyes, sunghoon hadn't even budged, still giving you a lusty stare.

"Fuck it sunghoon" you started letting out your crocodile tears. "Please sunghoon, please hoon-"

"uh uh" he tutted. You whimpered, starting again, forcing yourself to move up and down even thought your legs were so sore, sunghoon enjoying every bit.

"Please sunghoon". He rolls his eyes, he couldn't help but succumb into your pleading act.

He couldn't help it.

He puts your back on the bed before fucking in and out of you in an animalistic speed, making you choke on your breath.

"Gonna apologise isn't huh?" You whined again. "C'mon baby" he started increasing his speed again, breath increasing due to your tight little cunt.

How could a man speak so calmly whilst practically ripping you apart. You knew if he didn't get what he wanted, you wouldn't, so you just had to please him and finally giving in.

"S-sunghoon" he hummed in response.

"fuck- 'm sorry- fuckk! 'm s-sorry for-mmmm! being bad again sunghoooon- shit I... I wont do it again!" you let out another extended moan.

He smiled, hands wrapping around your neck, slightly chocking you, watching your eyes roll back at the small restraining,

"now that's the good girl I know" he proudly spoke, pushing your legs up to your chest and going deeper into you.

You haven't felt so manhandled in so long, sunghoon practically was playing with you like your were a toy, wrapping your legs around his waist to see your fucked out face again.

"You'll do anything for dick y-yeah?" you nodded your head aggressively not even listening to what he was saying.

"Fuck sunghoon!" you yelled his dick hitting places he never had, the spongy places that had you arching your back.

"Can I cum... pleasee!" you heard him chuckling again. He slowly nodded him head.

"C'mon, go ahead"

Your orgasm hit you so hard everything went white, sunghoon creaming and breeding into you almost at the same time. He slowed down, trying to drag the pleasure before pulling out a little, looking at your fucked up pussy with a smirk.

He pushes him cum back in with his fingers, biting onto his lip as his juices leaked out again.

"Lets go get you cleaned up" He said slowly walking out the room, thinking you were behind him.

But all he heard was heavy breathing, and an almost dead y/n laying on the bed.

"Oh" he picked you up in bridal style and taking you to the bathroom, getting a nice hot shower for both of you.

He smiled at you, whilst you looked down. "'m really sorry hoon" you muttered.

" Its alright y/n," he smiled again eyes squinting into a creasent shape.

"Your way cuter when your not bratty" you smiled.

"My bratty baby"

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhyphen hard thoughts #enhyphen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung #sunghoon smut #sunghoon #smut

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st4rgzer · 6 months ago

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now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

*comment to be added*

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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kenmakodz · 3 months ago

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it's hard :/

── .✦ yuuta x reader.

syn: sorcerer!yuuta has been neglecting doctor!reader in their relationship recently.

angsty angst, swearing, implications of a breakup, gn reader.

take everything from me, don’t care ‘bout this money,

you didn’t miss the way yuuta’s eyes glazed over, a reflection of the ring you just tugged off your finger shining back at you. it was a beautiful, princess-cut ring, with a big fat gemstone in the middle.

“it’s my promise to you”, he said.

“that i’ll stick by your side. forever”, he said.

he said a lot of things, didn’t he?

the ring never left your finger since that day, your first anniversary. he couldn’t have been more proud to be your boyfriend, parading you around like the two of you had just gotten engaged. holding your hand out towards your mutual friend, maki, as if you were royalty. of course, she played her natural indifferent facade, yet gossiped with you later on about how the hell he could’ve afforded that.

you don’t miss the way he flinches when it’s slammed onto the marble countertop, the palm of your hand covering where it’s sat.

“your promise, to me huh? what a joke, okkotsu.”

i just need you by me, need you right beside me.

“okkotsu…?” he shakily lets out, his voice merely higher than a whisper. he was scared to speak even half a tone louder, scared that you’d be caught like a deer in headlights and run off.

“really, that’s what you’re calling me now?”

as his final question leaves his mouth, he’s left staring back at you as a laugh he’s never heard before escapes your mouth. it’s not your normal, sweet, beautiful laugh. no, it’s something sinister- something laced with hate.

“what do you expect?!”

another laugh comes from you, almost as though you have gone completely manic. if he squinted, though, your pupils weren’t blown. you knew exactly what you were doing. it was simply a breaking point.

“you never put in any effort anymore! why should i address you with love in my heart, when i barely even get a ‘hello’?”

you throw your hands up into a shrugging position, causing him to flinch once more as he watches them fly right back down onto the ring. his head is in his hands now, and a long, deep breath is had before he formulates his next response.

“y/n, i love you.” brows furrowed, his gaze flicks down to your hands on the countertop, before reluctantly raising to make contact with your own.

… really?

before you can even take a breath and begin your next quip towards him, he continues. his tone isn’t angry, nor is it upset. you’re usually very good at pinpointing yuuta’s emotions, why is it so difficult now?

i remember watching the sunset, my world, it got darker

my life, is it done yet? wrap it up like a spider.

“ever since our two friend groups formed into one, when i saw you from the first time, i’ve loved you. ever since those same friends planned a picnic and we were the only ones who actually showed up, i’ve loved you. ever since the night we went to the beach and i watched you pick through sand for hours looking for sea glass, i’ve loved you. through the countless nights we’ve spent driving around going absolutely nowhere, i’ve loved you. it’s always been you, ever since i met you, and you want to throw it all away?”

the smallest, almost unnoticeable glimmer of hope spreads through his face, as if he’s gripping onto his final life force.

you missed it, for the very first time.

“don’t guilt trip me, please. you know that’s not what i’m doing.” you sigh, almost getting angry at yourself. a world of guilt is tumbling down on top of you; you shouldn’t be feeling like this, he’s been neglectful. you know giving into him is wrong, just like it always has been in the past.

why are you letting him get to your head again?

he’s hurt, and that you don’t miss. his left hand starts to tug at the chain around his neck, which holds his matching ring. it didn’t fit when he got it for himself, and the two of you constantly forget to get it resized. so, putting it on a necklace was the next best option.

i know that it’s hard to be with me.

and i’ve been trying to hard to be what you need.

“i’m not guilt tripping you, i’m trying to make you see my side! i know i haven’t given you much attention, and i know it’s my fault, but you know how taxing being a sorcerer is! for fucks sake, y/n, your everyday life is filled with aiding to them! it’s not an excuse, and i know that, but just because life has been hard lately isn’t a reason to throw four years away!” he allows his tone to rise, to let his raw emotion bleed through, which he almost never does. sure, the two of you have gotten into ‘fights’ before, but never in his life has he raised his voice at you. you deserve better than that, he thought. he never wants to take his anger out on you.

you shove the ring into your pocket, and turn on your heels, finished with the conversation. he isn’t hearing you, and frankly, you don’t want to hear him either.

yuuta almost goes to grab your arm, plead for you to stay, practically get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness if that’s what it came to. but something inside him told him to let you go, let you clear your head. he loathes leaving things unresolved. the nights with you in the guest room, and the side of the bed where you usually sleep being cold. the nights where he stays up staring at the ceiling instead of being fast asleep with you in his arms. he hates it. but this time, he lets it happen.

i had to take a walk, i’m nervous, wonder when you’re coming back. and i can feel the distance growing, was it something that i said?

⤷ © kenmakodz

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tojiscrack · 5 days ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃

summary: 7k words — while you’re struggling with the difficult pre-calculus questions, megumi ends up finding out information he wasn’t actively searching for.

notes: woah, sumaya released a chapter a week after the last one and not months later? 😱 what caused this? 🫣 @reinaswrld (aka my wife) got a promotion at her job! 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN!!! this chapter is dedicated to you and your success, well done <33 ik it’s not much — one of the shortest chapters so far in the story — but it’s building up a bit of plot, i hope you still enjoy it all the same ❤️‼️

tw: a lot of swearing from a very angry man (you’ll see), gossiping, that’s it tbh :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n, her parents, and other oc’s mentioned in the story. the rest belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was organised with a focused, minimalist setup, with rows of sturdy tables that filled most of the space, each paired with two hard-backed chairs that left barely enough room for you to move around without bumping into someone else's desk. you stared up at the whiteboard which took up much of the wall, its surface freshly wiped but faintly marked with smudges from the writing by your favourite teacher in the world — kento nanami — who had made you sit at the front for the sole purpose of doing a one-to-one session on the easier questions that you still somehow struggled with.

a projector hung from the ceiling above, casting crisp, blue-tinted notes and problem sets onto the board. his desk was positioned directly beside the whiteboard, immaculately organised, with a stack of ungraded worksheets, a coffee cup, and a single pen resting beside his computer. you thought satoru could use some tips on how to keep his work space as clean as kento's; you knew he wouldn't listen.

around the room, colourful display boards brightened up the neutral walls, each one crowded with pre-calc formulas, visual aids, and student projects — some crumpled from years of use, others meticulously laminated. none of them were of use to you, not when you found yourself stuck on something as simple as functions and transformations.

"try again," kento — or mr nanami, as he constantly demanded you refer to him as — patiently guided you, sliding a fresh worksheet with extra space for you to do your working out on. the previous one you'd been given had been a complete mess of scribbles, doodles, and working out that made no sense whatsoever.

you spun the pencil through your fingers in a dramatic manner, eyes squinted as you addressed the complicated questions on the sheet.

and gave up the second you saw the graphs.

"i'm failing this class," you decided with a sigh.

kento — mr nanami — shook his head at you, his lips in a straight line as he tapped the sheet.

"you haven't even given it a go," he stated sternly, his cheeks hollowing as he stared down at you. "remember what we went through."

"i already forgot," you admitted, abashed.

kento nanami's gaze was a perfect balance of sternness and patience as he looked down at you, his expression unwavering; his eyes were sharp, fixed intently on you with a hint of exasperation glinting beneath his otherwise calm exterior. it did not look as though he was going to let you give up that easily, no matter how deep your sighs of defeat ran. he tapped the sheet again, and despite it sounding like a couple knocks on the table, it really was a beat that spoke in strong tunes, one that said you're going to try again, whether you like it or not,

so you picked up your pencil, frowning at the size of the eraser attached to its rear end (knowing all too well that it was not going to be enough to keep your paper from becoming a mess of lead by the end of the lesson) and got to work, reading the question, and then re-reading it, trying your hardest to understand it down to a t.

kento had left you to tackle the problems alone as he moved across the room, pausing by other students' desks to offer guidance.

...and then returned to find that your paper was now full of doodles and scribbles. he furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, rubbing his straight brows from where they began, to where they angled downwards, the lines on his forehead more prominent as he tensed.

"i tried," you said, looking sullen.

"i can see that," he replied, and it wasn't just the mess of lead he was talking about; he could see the parts of the paper where you had made an attempt at answering the question, only to give up and then fail miserably.

he leaned against his own desk, peering down at you through his circular glasses. they looked odd to you, specifically the way they stuck onto the skin around his eyes like that. it was almost as peculiar as that weird, spotted tie he always wore.

"how often do you study at home?" he asked you, and the tone of his voice, serious, made you suck in your stomach, an unsettling feeling resting in your tummy.

"every friday," you lied. it wasn't as though he'd know you didn't.

only, he somehow had.

"i know you and your family spend fridays at gojo's," he told you, his brows furrowed.

you paused.

thought of your answer.

and then reconsidered it just in case there were any loopholes he could find.

"yeah," you agreed, nodding, "but i study there too. before dinner."

"no she doesn't."

megumi had approached kento with his notebook and worksheet in hand, his handwriting neat, each letter and number placed with a precision that seemed almost methodical.

you scowled at him as he looked straight at your teacher, barely even regarding you with a simple glance, apparently unbothered by your reaction.

"can you grade my questions?" he asked, only looking down and meeting your gaze with a glare when you kicked him from where you sat.

"you're being rude," you snapped, watching him shake the foot you had kicked.

he looked down at his foot, then at you, then back at his foot, as kento took the notebook out of his hands. "you literally just kicked me," he stated with a deep lour.

"yeah, 'cause you interrupted me when i was talking to kento," you shot back, brows furrowed.

"you mean when you were lying to him," megumi corrected you, an accusatory brow raised.

your cheeks warmed as you averted your gaze, barely managing to suppress a scowl. you crossed your arms, focusing on the scribbled doodles and half-erased notes on your worksheet, ignoring megumi's pointed look as you tapped your pencil against the paper in a futile attempt to appear unaffected, but the stubborn heat on your face betrayed your feigned composure.

"check that last question," said kento, handing megumi his notebook back and pointing at something on his page with the end of his red pen. "otherwise, well done megumi."

megumi nodded, muttering a quiet thanks before sitting back in his seat that was somewhere behind you; you didn't bother checking where after his attitude.

"you," kento began, brows furrowed at you, "need a tutor."

you would have beamed at the idea, if not for already being in a particularly sour mood after megumi's comment. still, you vouched for yourself, even though it meant pushing aside your stubborn pride.

"megumi, he said you have to tutor me," you said, turning around to speak to him — he had been sitting on a table with yuji on his left and nobara on his right. you found yourself seething with envy that you were so unbelievably terrible at math, your friends got to squish themselves on a table for two without you.

"i didn't say that," kento added dismissively. "i said you needed a tutor, not that it'd be megumi."

at that, the both of you peered back up at him, dumbfounded.

"i've done it before," your friend informed your teacher, his brows raised expectantly. "she takes forever, but —"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "was that really necessary?"

kento shook his head regardless.

you frowned, looking back at megumi, and you could have sworn you'd seen his shoulders deflate slightly too, but your teacher remained firm, regarding you with tight lips and furrowed brows.

"you get distracted very easily," he told you, his hands resting in the pockets of his formal pants. he nodded in the direction of where your friends were sitting without you. "specifically with megumi."

"megumi and i work very well together, actually," you corrected, unaware of yuji shaking his head in disagreement behind you. he'd stopped when you turned to see where kento's eyes had slowly drifted, suspicious. "even though he's really rude when he teaches me —"

"— i'm not rude —"

"— and super judgemental when i get something wrong," you continued over him; he was most likely glaring at the back of your head, you didn't need to see him to know that, "i still learn a lot."

"while that might be true, something always happens to go wrong when the two of you work together," said kento, and even though he was gentle with his approach on this topic, it still felt like a harsh kick to the stomach. "you aren't sensible."

"i'm sensible," megumi openly disagreed.

you did not appreciate his obvious jab at you. "wha— so am i!"

and to your dismay, yuji had intervened. "no you're not!" he jumped in, expression fierce as he pointed at you accusingly. "you told mr haibara my art work was made out of a toilet accident!"

"well it looked like a toilet accident," you shot back, your face relaxed, eyes half-lidded.

"he asked for her opinion," said nobara — your sweet nobara — coming to your defence without a second thought. she leaned over megumi to speak to yuji directly. "what did you expect her to do, ignore him?"

"if she's capable of saying my art piece looks like a pile of shit smeared on some paper, she's capable of ignoring someone!"

it was kento's slight groan that had the four of you looking up at him, and when you did, you'd been met with the sight of him pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifted by his fingers as he let out an exasperated sigh. kento did not enjoy it when the four of you would argue: he said it distracted the class despite your peers having discussions, jokes, and even arguments amongst themselves, unaware of the little spats you'd have with each other.

"enough," he voiced coolly, before regarding both you and megumi with a look of finality. "you have proven my exact point."

"i wasn't even—" megumi began, but you cut through him straight away. it wasn't like he was going to vouch for anyone but himself anyway, the selfish bastard.

"we're not like this at home," you argued passionately, brows raised in a desperate attempt to get kento to consider your situation, even if it meant dealing with a very judgemental megumi, who was never gentle when teaching you.

it seemed that your statement had only strengthened kento's decision to assign you a tutor who wasn't megumi, for his brows had drawn into a firm line, his gaze much harsher as he stared you with what seemed like a mix of finality and resolve.

"i saw the two of you at gojo's birthday last year," he'd said calmly. "the piñata was meant for him, not you."

ah.

kento was talking about the incident where you had 'hijacked' (as satoru had eloquently put it) his birthday piñata. you scoffed — he lived to tell the tale, with that goofy look on his face that was apparently meant to make you sympathise with him, but lived nonetheless.

it wasn't as though anybody was harmed in the process.

kento adjusted his glasses and regarded you with narrowed eyes. "it was also meant to be beaten open with a weapon, y/n. not megumi's head."

"arguably, his crazy hair is a danger to us all, and therefore a weapon of mass destruction," you stated, and found yourself internally pleased when you heard both yuji's and nobara's quiet snickering. "the piñata would agree."

you heard yuji and nobara's chuckles sputter into startled groans, abruptly cut off by a telltale thunk that had megumi written all over it. you couldn't help a sly chuckle as you glanced their way, where the pair nursed their sore heads with matching looks of betrayal, nobara muttering something that sounded a lot like a threat on megumi's life.

he, of course, remained unfazed, still glaring at you, looking about as done as kento had seemed, and sensing his icy gaze narrow further, you quickly schooled your face into a mask of innocent defiance.

"i'm not tutoring you," megumi replied bluntly, and you barely had the time to process that and groan before kento had intervened again.

"that settles it," he said, no longer leaning on his desk and now holding a finger up in a silent motion of 'no more' when your lips had parted to speak. "i will search for someone who i think will be best to tutor you —"

"but megumi —"

"— and is willing to do so too," he said, before picking up a folder, searching through it, and handing you a new worksheet with a different set of questions. "have a go at these before i come back, y/n."

he had left to go and approach other students, moving briskly towards those with raised hands, leaving you with only the fresh worksheet in your own hand, and a sigh caught somewhere between your frustration and reluctant determination.

you only hoped your tutor would be someone you could get along with.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

yuji and megumi walked side by side down the bustling hallway, their steps quick as they wove through clusters of students lingering between classes.

yuji had animatedly recounted an outrageous tale about how choso and todo had finally met, and how it had gone terribly wrong in only a matter of seconds. megumi was silent throughout the story, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he still managed to pay attention and had got the general gist of the story. in fact, megumi was certain that he could summarise it all in one simple sentence, something that yuji had failed to do: yuji's brothers did not like each other and were essentially fighting over him.

yuji squinted his eyes as sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, casting warm beams across their path as they neared the business classroom. megumi raised his arm to shield himself, blinking off the colourful spots in his vision.

"when did all that happen?" he asked, a crease between his brows from the frown he'd been holding up.

"after practice last week tuesday," said yuji, casually, "when i tried catching the early bus, remember?"

"i thought you got the early bus," megumi replied, the two of them taking a right where they'd find their classroom. they'd been stalling for a bit, walking round in circles in different areas of the school, but it was nearly time before the bell rang.

yuji nodded. "i did, but todo insisted on dropping me off. i said no, but — you know him, he doesn't take no for an answer."

megumi knew that quite well. when he first met todo and he'd demanded megumi to tell him his type, no matter how many times he'd refused to, todo remained persistent.

it was annoying.

"and then they met — and then everything was just —"

when the pink-haired boy had stopped speaking so abruptly, megumi glanced over at him.

yuji's gaze drifted into the distance, his eyes widening slightly as he seemed to lose track of his story mid-sentence. megumi furrowed his brows at him, watching his mouth hang open for a beat, the usual spark in his expression dimming as he focused intently on something across the hall. slightly confused, megumi turned to follow yuji's line of sight, the silence between them suddenly weighted, and megumi could only lour at what he'd seen.

"hey," yuji began, voice distant, "isn't that tsumiki?"

across the hallway, kamo stood beside tsumiki, his posture formal yet oddly relaxed, hands resting in his pockets with a quiet attentiveness. tsumiki, in turn, seemed engaged, her expression open and bright, using light hand gestures and motions that she usually did when explaining something.

megumi had seen the same thing in different areas of the school: during study hall, he'd seen tsumiki wave kamo goodbye, just before lunch had ended, he'd seen kamo walking her to her english class, and for the nth time that day, he was watching them interact, watching as tsumiki listened attentively, nodding along with something he was saying.

what the hell was going on? since when did kamo and tsumiki talking to each other become so frequent? was that ever a thing to begin with? megumi couldn't comprehend any of what he was seeing.

but he couldn't blame himself for his lack of understanding here, for everything that had happened in the past week regarding kamo had been odd, especially since that conversation his teammates had had in the locker rooms before practice.

and with a more relaxed, loose expression, megumi realised what that meant; how had this not been the first thought in his mind?

tsumiki was someone that both megumi and yuji knew pretty well. he'd completely ruled out the possibility that kamo would find interest in someone older despite majority of his teammates doing exactly that — they liked older girls.

he just did not believe that any one of them would be interested in his sister.

"yeah," megumi nodded, biting his inner cheek to avoid the natural scowl that he knew was trying to make an appearance. "it is."

"why's she talking to —"

"i don't know," said megumi, now wanting more than ever to enter class early, if only to get rid of the disgusting sight before him. he wished he could also say that he did not care, but he was curious, and he wanted to know what was actually happening between them. "let's go."

"oh, she saw us!" said yuji, raising a hand to wave. "she's saying hi!"

megumi didn't look to see whether this was true or not, but he didn't doubt it, only choosing to ignore his sister entirely and go to his class, half annoyed when he realised that kamo would follow behind him soon since they shared the same one.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" yuji repeated, sounding taken aback by megumi and his cold response of ignoring her entirely.

megumi stepped into the classroom, his expression tight and shoulders tense as he made his way towards his usual seat at the back. the lively hum of conversation around him felt distant, each sound fading as he focused on shaking off the odd irritation from the hallway, and not even a moment later, yuji had trailed behind him, loudly questioning why megumi was ignoring tsumiki, his voice ringing through the quiet room. his obliviousness hung in the air, adding to megumi's quiet frustration as he sank into his seat, mentally urging his friend to just sit down and stop broadcasting his every thought.

to his dismay, yuji did not stop, not even when kamo had entered the room, walking over to his seat parallel to the two.

the rest of the class went by as usual, the only difference being the constant voice at the back of megumi's mind — nagging and pressing — reminding him of what he'd seen throughout the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi stood just outside the theatre hall, his figure casting a long shadow on the tile floor as the late afternoon light filtered in through the high windows. the hallway was quiet now, only the faint sound of distant chatter echoing from a classroom down the hall, while the smell of fresh paint and worn wood from the theatre room seeped faintly into the corridor.

dressed in his football uniform, his hair still damp from practice, he idly scanned the posters pinned on the corkboard outside the door: upcoming plays, rehearsals, and auditions for the semester. there was even a picture of you from one of the plays back in sophomore year, a huge success, according to the school newsletter attached to it. he remembered that one, a re-telling of rosalind and how even through the mess your family had caused behind the scenes, you had remained professional enough to take your role as the lead and make something better of it — it was admirable, not that he'd ever tell you that.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his eyes occasionally drifting to the door as he waited, his gaze relaxed. when he heard footsteps at the other end of the corridor, light and unhurried, he turned his head, brow twitching slightly as tsumiki closed the large distance between them, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, holding a file to her chest as he swiped the damp strands of his hair away from his forehead.

she stopped just short of him, glancing down at his feet. he followed her gaze, frowning when she didn't speak.

"what?" he said, defensive.

she pointed at his socks, stained with grass. "you're gonna walk in your house with those?"

megumi shot her a look, half grimacing, half glaring. "no," he snapped, snippy. "i'm gonna take them off at the front door."

she shrugged, holding her pink folder to her chest as she leaned against the same wall he had been leaning against.

"i knew i'd find you here," she said, the fluorescent lights above softening her already-gentle features, casting a warm glow that blended with the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the nearby windows.

megumi grunted in response. it was enough to show that he acknowledged her comment. she understood that well enough.

"what do you need?" he asked her, flinching when a random cymbal crash had sounded from inside the hall. he could bet his two dogs it was because of you. "i'm not doing your stats homework again."

"no, silly," she laughed, nudging his side and relishing in the slight hiss he'd let out — yuji had tackled him hard on the field during practice, driving his weight into megumi's side and slamming him mercilessly against the grass. the impact bit deeper than he'd expected, the sharp sting lingering even an hour later. "i was gonna ask you a question."

"ok."

...

"you're not gonna ask me what it is?"

"you're the one that needs to ask the question here."

"stop acting like aunt maude, megumi," scolded tsumiki, making an attempt to pinch his side. he slapped her hand away, cross and displeased with her playful nature. "anyway," she sighed, apparently having given up on trying to tease him any further than he'd let her, "don't get mad at me when i ask this."

he looked down at her, a feeling that still felt strange. only this past summer had he finally outgrown her, and after spending most of his life looking up to meet her gaze, he still wasn't quite used to the new perspective.

he didn't like the look she was sporting. it was something in between a sensible smile and a mischievous grin.

"don't say anything to make me mad," he shot back, brows furrowed.

tsumiki held her file closer to her chest, like a mother protectively cradling her baby.

"let me say a quick prayer before i ask," she said, meeting his sharp gaze with a small frown. "what? i don't wanna get attacked when i ask."

he scowled. "i'm not gonna atta—"

but she wasn't paying attention, her eyes closed as she cupped her hands and whispered her prayers into it. megumi could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of 'protect me from the evil standing right next to me'. if he hadn't been taught that disrupting a prayer was a form of evil, he would have hit her twice on the head by now, but the last thing he needed to do was prove a point.

once she'd blown into her chest, she faced the wall opposite them with a smile, letting out a small breath.

"that was stupid," he muttered, unimpressed.

"didn't ask," she hummed, before clearing her throat. "are you interested in anyone?"

he was wrong — perhaps she did need that prayer after all.

megumi peered down at her, a brow raised, judging.

his usual sharp composure faltered for a moment as he processed her question. a frown twitched at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decipher the motive behind her sudden curiosity. this wasn't like her usual teasing — it had an edge of genuine interest that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite place.

"what the hell?" he demanded, visibly disgusted and audibly confused.

"you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she huffed, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "it's just as simple as any other question."

"except you've never asked me that before," he retorted, glowering as she shrugged, her eyes tracing the display board, the one with your image on it.

her expression shifted to a thoughtful calm, taking in each photo and flyer pinned neatly on the cork surface, her fingers tapping lightly against the folder she held, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

megumi didn't understand what was so amusing about her question.

it was confusing; it made no sense.

"so?" she prompted, nudging his side for the second time that day; he shrugged her off, annoyed. "is there any girl you like? any girl you think you like?"

"what's it to you?" he interrogated, placing his helmet over his head to block her out of his peripheral vision. maybe if she wasn't being so annoying, he wouldn't have to do that.

she didn't hesitate when she answered him.

"i'm asking because of an event," said tsumiki, and as she spoke, the sound of shuffling had penetrated megumi's thick helmet, entering his ears, prompting him to turn and glance down at her to see what she was doing. from the lines on his helmet, he could see her shuffling through pages in her folder, before eventually pulling out a purple flyer and offering it to him. sceptically and suspiciously, he took it. "'cause i'm organising it, i get vip tickets for friends and family. i wanted to give you one, and if you have anyone in mind, give her one too. but you're being so secretive."

"i'm not being secretive," said megumi, barely reading the flyer's contents. he was sure he wasn't going to go anyway, he never usually did anyway. he handed it back to her, waving it when she wouldn't take it. "i just don't have anyone."

she sniffed, pushing the flyer back towards him. "could've just said that."

"you were being suspicious," he sneered, eyes narrowed as tsumiki shook her head at him, disagreeing. he clicked his tongue, disapproving. "i don't even go to any of the school stuff anyway."

tsumiki raised a brow at him, visibly sceptical.

"what about homecoming?" she suggested, and megumi was thrown back in time to when he'd been struggling to avoid satoru and his 'bonding time' (which was essentially just picking out expensive suits together). "winter formal? spring fling? the spring formal last year?"

he remembered all of those quite well. still, he remained stagnant.

"i only went to those 'cause y/n dragged me to them."

tsumiki reached up and knocked on his helmet. he scowled and harshly moved her hand away, failing once, twice, three times before she finally stopped.

"did y/n hold a gun to your head?" she asked him, watching as he slowly took his helmet off and shook his hair out of his eyes. he was in need of a haircut soon, he thought to himself, reminded of his mom who politely nagged at him every day about it.

"mentally, she did," he commented quietly. he locked gazes with tsumiki and looked away not even a second later. "does."

a flicker of thought crossed megumi's mind. he recalled the multiple times he'd caught glimpses of tsumiki with kamo throughout the day — small moments, brief exchanges, but enough to catch his attention. she'd been smiling, animated even, in a way that felt unusual.

he acted on this prickle of curiosity, brows furrowed.

"are you taking anyone?" he questioned, looking down at the flyer to clarify. "to the... choir?"

tsumiki shook her head, a look of mild frustration pained over her face. "ever since satoru and your dad scared derek off last year, i... i stopped looking."

megumi raised a brow at her, very clearly critical of her hesitant response. "you stopped looking or they stopped approaching you?"

tsumiki's usual warmth seemed dimmed, her kind expression weighed down with a mix of weariness and irritation, brows knitted slightly with a faint line of frustration formed between them as her gaze shifted to the side, avoiding megumi's probing look.

"they stopped approaching me," she admitted with a sigh, but she was smiling, so megumi assumed it wasn't a massive bother.

not when she seemed to be hitting it off with kamo, apparently...

"so why do you keep talking to kamo?" he asked, straightforward and blunt. there was, in his view, no point beating around the bush or sugarcoating it. it would take too long for her to explain and equally longer for him to just get to the point. he did not have the time nor the patience for that.

there was a gentleness in her face, but it looked stretched thin, as if the weight of the question had caught up, stunning her momentarily. her lips parted briefly, like she wanted to explain, but ultimately came to the decision where in the end, she would not.

"wouldn't you like to know?" she settled on saying, her lip curled.

it irritated megumi.

"i don't," he lied, his voice distant and quiet.

"kamo's a nice guy," said tsumiki, as though trying to feed him this information little by little, like a child being monitored with how much candy they consume. "a really nice guy, actually."

megumi did not particularly agree with this, but he was not going to communicate that with tsumiki, not when she seemed so starstruck by him. megumi didn't even think she felt this strongly about derek carter from the basketball team; it rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that he might have to see one of his football teammates — other than yuji — turn up to dinner at satoru's every once in a while on fridays.

even so, he didn't necessarily believe kamo to be a bad guy.

he was decent: megumi respected his ability to never indulge in gossip as well as the company he always chose to keep — except for todo, that was something he silently critiqued.

but kamo and tsumiki...?

odd pairing, he thought to himself.

"he can hold a conversation better than i thought he could," tsumiki added thoughtfully, slightly nodding to herself as she spoke. "and... he's considerate."

megumi averted his gaze back to the display board, now uninterested.

"will i be seeing him around more?" he asked her without actually looking at her properly. he wasn't in support of this odd pairing, but if tsumiki genuinely liked noritoshi kamo, he wasn't going to actively try and prevent them from happening.

that did not, however, mean he couldn't silently judge them in his head.

and perhaps verbally with nobara, too, since she did feel quite strongly about his teammate ("he acts like he doesn't care about anything, with that 'i don't care' attitude, but look at his face! he's trying too hard, so he definitely does!").

"possibly," said tsumiki, smiling gracefully.

as the muffled sound of voices grew louder, both tsumiki and megumi instinctively turned their heads towards the theatre hall doors, where a steady flow of students began spilling into the corridor. the doors swung open, and megumi's gaze sharpened as he and tsumiki lightly searched the crowd, his eyes moving over familiar faces until they landed on you, standing and walking amidst your classmates.

you approached the two with a smile.

"ooh, tsumiki, you walking home with us?" you asked brightly, adjusting the strap of your bag as you shoved your papers inside. judging from the format of the text, megumi assumed it was a script for another play.

"mamaguro invited me over for dinner," she explained casually, "but she said absence isn't an option, so..."

"ugh, i'm jealous," you frowned, gesturing to your bag to clarify what you meant. "i want to come over too but i have a script to memorise by next week, and i need help with the pre-calc homework kento gave us today."

tsumiki's eyes darted between you and megumi, her lips pursed as though she had been missing something significant.

"megumi's... not able to help you with that?" she asked, her voice an octave higher with apparent confusion.

you raised your brows. "no, he can."

megumi aided you. "i just won't."

tsumiki's head tilted ever so slightly, and a faint crease appeared on her forehead, the kind she only got when she was trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. her lips then parted as if to ask something, but she hesitated, scanning megumi's indifferent expression and your casual one with a slow shake of her head.

"i'm not gonna ask," she settled on saying, before you noticed the flyer in megumi's hand.

leaning in closer, you scanned the leaflet's front, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. the fact that megumi of all people was holding onto one left you momentarily speechless, lips parted as you took in the big, bold text, still a little stunned.

"what's that?" you asked, barely waiting for an answer before reading it aloud. "'choir day: join us and learn the trombone' ... you're actually going to that?"

"no," hestated, looking down and shaking the flyer at tsumiki as though he'd forgotten that he had been holding it. "i'd even pick your stupid plays over some choir show here."

you nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of who he was speaking to.

"they're not stupid, they're fun," you corrected him with a scowl, pleased when he stepped away from you and threw you a light, warning glare.

tsumiki clicked her fingers at him, making him turn his head and his attention over to her, attentive, like a dog.

"and you're sure you're not taking anyone?" she'd said, brows raised as she opened her folder and tapped at a sheet of paper in it.

you perked up, nonplussed. "you're taking someone?"

"no," he snapped, turning to tsumiki again with a glare. the three of you had started walking out of the hallway now, making your way to the exit. "i told you, i'm not into any girls."

tsumiki, placed in between the two of you, nodded thoughtfully. "ah, so you swing the other way?"

without hesitation, megumi gave her a firm shove, sending her stumbling sidewards — right into you.

"don't be stupid," he'd said over your loud protests, planting his feet firmly onto the ground as tsumiki stood behind him, regaining her balance.

"no, tsumiki, he likes princess jasmine," you told her over his shoulder, watching her enthusiastically nod in agreement.

"i don't —"

"that's why little you's cheeks turned red when her outer robe fell off —" you teased as you walked right up to him, prepared to attack because of his careless shove against tsumiki.

but he was one step ahead of you.

just as you moved to strike, he planted the helmet on your head and delivered a solid smack to its top. the sound reverberated around you, ringing in your ears, while a dull ache radiated from the point of impact.

your brain had too much fog to focus on what he was now doing to tsumiki. all you could see, through several hard blinks and the stupid face mask lines, was megumi's back, which meant that he was now towering over tsumiki and launching a range of attacks.

you had an idea:

bending over, his helmet now in line with his behind, you charged forward like an angry bull, your head colliding with his back (a stiff one, you had to mention) repeatedly.

"what the—" you heard him grunt.

you couldn't see it, but he was looking down at you from over his shoulder, confused and inwardly concerned with your choice of attack.

it did hurt though, so he'd have to put a stop to it anyway, and that would've been easy to do if tsumiki wasn't now tugging on his hair and stomping on his foot.

from the far end of the hallway, a teacher spotted the scuffle and rushed forward, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to outright disbelief. apparently, he'd first assumed it was a classic tussle between a group of rowdy boys; the vigorous shoving, stomping, and grunts gave that impression from a distance, but as he got closer, he had blinked in surprise, recognising that the three of you involved were a pair of girls and only one boy.

"right, just... walk home safely, you three," he'd said, eyeing megumi's creased jersey and dishevelled hair with a grimace. when his eyes darted to you, the helmet still on your head, he nodded. "bye... y/n."

"no i'm megumi, can't you tell —"

"let's go," megumi grumbled, gripping onto your elbow and tugging you forward with a little more force than necessary.

you shoved him off and walked beside tsumiki again.

the rest of the journey home was filled with collective bullying, laughter, and a disgruntled megumi who vowed to keep you and tsumiki away from each other at all costs. you were rubbing off on her and he didn't like it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

toji shoved satoru off of him once the door had been kicked shut behind him, his chest puffed out in an attempt to appear more intimidating, but he knew the childish man wouldn't flinch even if he bit at him.

"you touch me again and you're gonna end up in a hospital bed you white haired —"

"shut up," satoru groaned, his words drawn out in apparent exhaustion.

toji did not like this demand, parting his lips to say something — no doubt some sort of threat — but satoru had been quicker: for the first time since toji's known him, he was jumping straight to the point.

"look, i don't like you, and you don't like me —"

"incorrect," said toji, arms folded over his chest, though his fists were still clenched where they rested on each side of his waist.

satoru grimaced.

that look — staring back at him with one side of his upper lip lifted, his brows raised and contorted, his nose scrunched. toji wanted nothing more than to punch it right off, a clean swipe.

however, it seemed that he didn't have to, for his face had shifted into one he recognised even better...

the cocky one.

he hated that one even more.

"see, i'm flattered, fushiguro," he began, grinning as toji's nails cut right into each of his palms, leaving half moon crescent marks behind, "really, i am, but i have a wife —"

toji's nostrils flared dangerously.

"shut-the-fuck-up-before-i-shove-my-fist-in-your-fucking-mouth-you-cocky-fucking-bastard —"

satoru raised his hands in mock surrender.

"woah there buddy —"

"you got it fucking twisted," snapped toji, stepping up to the other male with a menacing glare. "i hate your guts. i wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire — and even now, i wanna squash you where you stand, like a bug. consider yourself lucky my wife likes you —"

"i am not the enemy here!" satoru interrupted him loudly.

without breaking eye contact with the enraged, bulky man before him, he pointed at the door behind him where laughter and chatter sounded from members of the gathering.

"we have a common enemy out there. and just this once... aside from the time the serial-hump-er was out for us men... i offer a truce to get rid of the brat."

derek carter was, by all outward appearances, exactly the kind of guy most people would be thrilled to see with someone like tsumiki. he was relentlessly polite, with a clean-cut look and a warm, ready smile that seemed designed to put parents at ease. always prepared, he carried her books without needing to be asked, laughed at all the right moments, and brought flowers to meet the family — not that toji or satoru could find anything wrong with him, on paper.

and maybe that was the problem.

he was too perfect.

perfectly timed smiles, perfect grades, perfect compliments... to toji and satoru, he seemed like he was performing rather than being genuine, and that subtle insincerity — whether real or perceived — set them both on edge. neither of them bought it, and both of them, despite their very obvious differences, couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't quite what he appeared to be.

toji's defensive posture shifted, shoulders loosening as satoru's offer had started to sink in. his glare had softened, the tension in his clenched fists releasing as he glanced from satoru to the closed door behind him, where derek's too-perfect laughter rang out.

for a moment, toji just scowled at the ground, processing, and satoru had assumed he had lost the deal, that they would not be able to collectively get rid of the perfect brat of a date that tsumiki had brought out. but then, toji looked up again, and gave him a quick, almost reluctant nod.

satoru gave him a toothy grin, which was not returned.

"what did you have in mind?" toji began, his voice gruff with obvious reluctance.

"hate to say it, but i'm gonna have to be the brains behind this," said satoru, sounding all too pleased with himself.

if toji hadn't been so pissed with the sight of that carter kid, he might have actually spent time being suspicious with the white-haired freak. what if he was setting him up again? it certainly wouldn't have been the first time...

"believe me, i'd love to be in on the action too," he continued, still smiling that dopy smile, "but i'm a teacher at the high school. got a rep to keep up. and... i could lose my job, obviously..." he glanced at toji with a small, cheeky grin. "you wouldn't be able to relate —"

"— get to the fucking point —"

"— all right."

the plan had been made, enacted, and even altered slightly during it.

the chaos that followed was a carefully orchestrated disaster. satoru's brilliant plan had required toji to bring back a bothersome personality trait he had put at rest from meeting his wife onwards, turning an already uncomfortable event into a whirlwind.

plates clattered, chairs tipped, and the silverware clinked at the most inopportune moments, all while derek had tried to keep his composure, only to grow more visibly unnerved as the night went on. between satoru's subtle, deadpan remarks that derek barely caught, and toji's unexpected, pointed comments that cut through any remaining calm, derek found himself squirming, second-guessing every word. and when toji made a point of 'accidentally' standing too close, arms crossed, looming like a silent bouncer, that had been the final straw.

tsumiki's date excused himself with a pale face, disappearing through the door as fast as he could without actually running.

in turn, tsumiki had not spoken to either of them again for a whole, entire week.

at least the brat was gone without any legal reinforcements.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

notes: i hope you enjoyed this chapter (congrats again reinaswrldddd) my wifeee 🎀💓 i hope it pleases you, i hope you become rich and rule the world (gonna need it after trump’s win 😐). you’re the best and ily (did you guys know that she’s my wife? 😱❤️‍🔥)

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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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totowlff · 24 days ago

Text

a monegasque horror story

➝ in the sun-soaked streets of monaco, you cross paths with a mysterious man named toto. drawn to each other by a shared love of classic cars, you quickly form an intimate bond, but beneath toto's charismatic exterior lies a web of secrets. as your relationship deepens, you discovers a chilling truth: toto isn't who he claims to be.

➝ word count: 2,9k

➝ warnings: mentions of death

➝ author’s note: i wrote this one shot for a little competition in the wolff pack server in discord. maybe it's a different tone that you are used to read here, but i hope you enjoy it!

It was a warm summer night in Monaco when you saw him for the first time. He was standing next to your car, looking at it closely. It wasn't unusual for the vehicle to attract attention, especially considering the model, which was only produced for a short period in the 1950s. After a few moments of silent observation, you cleared your throat.

— Is there a problem?

He lifted his head toward you, a shy smile appearing on his lips. In the dim light from a nearby streetlamp, you could swear he was blushing.

— Oh, well, no — the man stammered — Is it yours?

— Yes, it is.

Running a hand through his hair, he seemed a bit flustered, which was funny considering how imposing his presence appeared.

— A 1955 300 SL, right?

— That's right — you said, still feeling a bit tense in your shoulders — Have you seen one before?

— I had one — the man replied — Silver, with an all-red leather interior, a true work of art.

You nodded, agreeing with him. That was definitely your favorite car out of all the ones you'd ever owned, not just for the design, but for its personal meaning.

— I like it too. It was a gift…

— Oh, so it has sentimental value as well — he smiled, causing you to smile back. In your chest, you felt something different, but not uncomfortable. A kind of strange calm.

— Yes, my dad gave it to me when I moved here.

— So, you live around here? Not long, right? I’d remember seeing you, especially with a car like that…

— Yeah, not long. Just last month, actually.

— Ah, that explains it. By the way, what’s your name?

— Y/N — you replied, walking toward the driver's door and opening it — Well, I have to go…

— You can call me Toto — the man said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans — See you around, Y/N.

Your second encounter with the man — Toto, as he’d introduced himself — was at a café on Plage du Larvotto, just over a week later. You had parked out front and were watching the movement on the boardwalk in front of the beach when a familiar voice called your name. Turning, you found him standing there, wearing the same white shirt and the same smile on his lips.

— Good morning, Y/N — Toto said, approaching you — What a coincidence seeing you here…

You shifted slightly in your chair, a small smile on your face.

— Well, it’s one of the most popular cafés in Monaco, isn’t it?

— True, but I thought you preferred quieter places. At least, that was the impression I got from the restaurant you were at that day — he replied, in a good-humored tone — But maybe I got it wrong…

— No, actually, you're right. But the coffee here is good enough to deal with all this movement.

Toto laughed, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of you.

— It is, I really like this place. I used to come here a lot with my friend Flavio.

You raised an eyebrow.

— You don’t come here anymore?

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling again.

— Not as often. But maybe I'll start coming again — Toto replied — I have a good reason now.

His words made your cheeks warm. You weren’t the shy type, but something about having a man like him focus on you made you feel different.

Special, that was the word.

The casual encounters around town soon turned into an invitation to dinner at a small restaurant in Port de Fontvieille. Of course, the night had its hiccups, like the maître d’ claiming there was no reservation in Toto Wolff’s name, which meant you had to wait almost an hour for a table.

However, nothing made you feel less excited about getting to know the man in front of you. Between sips of wine — which Toto politely declined — and bites of Parma ham bruschettas, he told you more about his life, his passion for cars, and how he almost became a race car driver.

— Clearly, I didn’t have the talent for it, so…

— So, you just stayed a spectator? — you suggested.

— Exactly — he answered, giving you a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

After dinner, you drove him back to Monte Carlo in your car — something that might seem unconventional, but perfectly appropriate considering you had met because of it — feeling a certain anxiety. You had never gone out with anyone since arriving in Monaco, making the whole situation feel brand new to you.

And the exact opposite for Toto.

— Well, here we are — you said, parking in front of Plage du Larvotto, where you’d met him earlier that evening.

— Yeah, we are — he replied, resting a hand dangerously close to your leg, exposed by the edge of your dress. That simple proximity sent a shiver through your skin, anticipation crackling at the back of your neck.

— You sure you don’t want me to drop you at your house?

— No, no need, I don’t want to take you out of your way…

— I don’t mind — you quickly replied — Besides, it means I can spend more time with you, right?

The corner of Toto’s mouth curled into an almost mischievous smile, his fingertips brushing against your thigh.

— How about spending the rest of the night with me, then?

That was the first time you had taken someone to your place after a date. It was also the first time you had slept with someone after a first date. And, even though every code of conduct and feminine etiquette said you shouldn’t, you couldn’t resist the desire to feel his touch against your skin.

The next morning, you woke up in Toto’s arms, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. His calm breathing and the relaxed expression on his face made you certain there was no better place in the world to be than right there, in that bed, beside him.

— Good morning — he murmured, his voice husky with sleep — Did you sleep well?

— Good morning, yes, I did. And you?

— It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years — Toto chuckled, pulling you closer — I think I’ll start sleeping here with you every night.

— I wouldn’t mind — you replied, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

And so it happened. That same week, Toto began sleeping at your place almost every night. Though, of course, his presence wasn’t exactly well received by your neighbors, who seemed to find it strange that a man suddenly appeared by your side. Maybe it was the fact that he was older or made little jokes in your ear that made you laugh loudly, which provoked suspicious whispers and disapproving glances.

— Let them look — Toto would say, kissing your forehead after you spent long minutes venting about how one of the neighbors suggested you see a psychiatrist to “deal with the man you were seeing” — Let them think what they want. What matters is what you think, right?

— Yes — you replied, nodding.

— And what do you think?

— That you’re the man of my life.

A smile of approval appeared on Toto’s lips. However, in the back of your mind, the voice of your neighbor still echoed in your ears. The concern in her eyes was burned into your memory, as if she knew something you didn’t about the man lying next to you.

Staring at the way Toto’s chest gently rose and fell, you felt like you were standing in front of an incomplete puzzle, with pieces that had gone missing. He was a good man, polite, sincere, no doubt about it. But the gaps in the story he had told you were too glaring to ignore.

Where did he live? What did he do for work? Where was his family from? Why didn’t he like having meals with you? How many white monogrammed shirts did he have? Why didn’t he have a phone?

Theories raced through your mind at an absurd speed. Maybe he was hiding from someone or from some organization. Maybe he had done something terrible and needed to keep a low profile. Had he killed someone? No, Toto wasn’t that type of person; he had always been so kind to you…

It was those questions that led you to type his full name into your work computer, your fingers trembling against the keyboard. The page took a few seconds to load images of Toto at luxurious events, accompanied by the last words you expected to read.

“Search for missing businessman called off.”

You clicked on the headline, hesitant. "This is impossible," you thought to yourself, your stomach churning.

In the article, the journalist wrote that, after a month of searching the Mediterranean Sea, the Monaco police had called off the operation, citing the strong coastal currents and the low likelihood of recovering the body.

The following paragraph was dedicated to Toto, referred to only as Christian Wolff, and his life. According to the article, he was a successful Austrian businessman whose investments in technology companies had made him a billionaire. Charismatic, he was a prominent figure in Monegasque society, along with his wife, Susie, and their son, Jack.

The discovery that the man you had been sleeping with for months was married with a young child made you want to vomit. Closing the page, you stood up from your desk and, with your bag over your shoulder, furiously drove back to your apartment, tears streaming down your face.

You wouldn’t be “the other woman.” You refused to be her.

When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the couch, reading a book. Upon seeing you, a wide smile appeared on his face.

— Ah, meine kleine! — Toto said, putting the book down on the cushion — You got back early…

— I left earlier — you managed to say, your voice trembling. You wanted to confront him, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could feel was the sensation of having been deceived all that time, of being just a toy. That realization made more tears run down your face, causing his smile to fade.

— Are you crying? Y/N, what happened?

— You lied to me.

His posture stiffened.

— Lied?

— Of course! — you shouted — You’re married!

— Y/N…

— Worse, you faked your own disappearance so no one would find you — you continued yelling, your sobs becoming deeper — You did it to restart your life with a new identity! You abandoned your family, you piece of shit!

Toto pressed his lips into a thin line.

— You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.

— Don’t I? — you asked, in an ironic tone — How do I not know? I read it, Toto, I saw your pictures with her, with your son! You have a son, a wife, and you’re fucking another woman…

— I had! — he shouted, making you stop, your cheeks completely wet. Your breathing was shaky, as were your hands — I had, Y/N.

— What do you mean? — you stammered, sniffing — What are you talking about?

Toto stared at you for long seconds, as if trying to find the best way to explain it all. In your mind, you believed it was just a lousy excuse, a way for him to buy time to get away with it. "Typical scoundrel behavior", you thought to yourself, clenching your fists.

— Y/N, I had a family — he began, slowly approaching you — I had a wife, Susie, and a son with her, Jack. They were the people I loved most in the world, Y/N. I don’t think I ever loved anyone more than those two.

Your bottom lip trembled, your eyes filling with tears again. How could he say he loved them and betray them like that? How could he be so cynical?

— But they — Toto hesitated, placing his hands on his face. The words wouldn’t leave his mouth, as if they were too difficult to say. After a few seconds, he exhaled deeply — I can’t, Y/N.

— Can’t? What are you talking about?

— I need to show you, Y/N — he replied, his eyes full of sadness — You need to come with me.

An incredulous laugh escaped your lips.

— I’m not going anywhere with you, Toto. You lied to me, deceived me — you replied, anger seeping into your words, along with the tears.

— Please, you’ll understand, let me show you — Toto begged, desperation evident in his tone and the way his hands held your face — You need to hear me, Y/N. Please, meine kleine.

You couldn’t process anything after he called you by the affectionate nickname he had given you. Maybe it was his tone, or simply the desire to end all of this, that made you give a small nod, agreeing to let Toto take you to the place where everything would finally be revealed.

The drive was a blur. The curves of the French Riviera were blurred by your tears, but you held back the urge to sob. Until the car pulled over, the engine silencing, leaving only your breathing in the air. Wiping your eyes, you realized where you were; it was a spot where tourists usually stopped to take poetic pictures of the Mediterranean and the setting sun.

But at that moment, there was no poetry to be found.

Standing before the horizon, you heard Toto’s footsteps on the gravel. When he placed a hand on your arm, your skin tingled.

— Y/N — he murmured, his tone tense.

— Did you bring me here to try and convince me to keep being your mistress? To continue ignoring your family? — you retorted, staring into the void ahead. You knew that if you looked at Toto, you would start crying again. However, he didn’t back down, nor did he reproach you for the harsh tone.

— No, Y/N. I brought you here to tell you everything you need to know about me.

— There’s more I need to know besides what I already know?

— Yes — Toto said seriously — And the first is that Susie and Jack are dead.

You blinked, showing no reaction.

— They died five years ago in a car accident. Susie was driving back from the airport with Jack; they had gone to Scotland to visit her family. She lost control of the car and it flipped — he continued — They died instantly, there was no time to save them.

You stared at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he might be lying, but all you found was sincerity.

— So, they’re not here?

— No. They’ve been gone for a long time, Y/N.

— Did they die here?

— No — Toto answered seriously — I died here.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening. Taking a step back, you were sure you had misheard. He couldn’t have said he died; it couldn’t be true. How could he be dead if he was standing right in front of you, breathing and full of pain in his eyes?

— What...

— I couldn’t bear living without them. I couldn’t handle the emptiness they left behind, Y/N. I wanted to see them again, so I took that car — he said, pointing to your car — And I came here.

— You jumped?

Toto nodded, stepping closer to you. The coastal wind tousled his hair, while the sun made his brown eyes gleam. How could he be dead when he was standing there, so alive and real in front of you?

— But you survived — you stammered.

— No. My body is trapped in a tangle of seaweed inside a cave down there. No one ever found me, despite the searches.

Your mind couldn’t process it; it felt completely surreal.

— But you’re here, standing right in front of me…

— Because I’m trapped, Y/N. Since no one found me, I’m stuck in this world, unable to move on, unable to reunite with my family.

— Toto — you murmured, tears streaming down your cheeks.

— You were the first person to see me since that day, Y/N — he said, caressing your face — I didn’t realize how much I needed to be seen until that day. You made me feel joy, hope…

— But you’re not here, Toto. You’re not, you’re not — you kept repeating, through sobs — I’m crazy, those people were right, I’m crazy.

— You’re not crazy, Y/N.

You stepped back, sniffling.

— How am I not, Toto? You don’t exist, you’re not here, I shouldn’t be able to see you!

— But you do, you hear me, you make me feel alive again — he said — You’re my salvation.

— I can’t…

Once again, he approached you, placing his hands on your face. They were strangely warm and comforting, despite belonging to a dead man. That word sent a shiver down your spine. Dead, he was a dead man. He had never been there, despite you seeing him.

— You can, meine kleine, I know you can. Trust me.

Feeling your heart pounding heavily in your chest, you simply nodded. You could, you were the one who could save him. You were the one who would save him.

Only you.

SEARCH FOR YOUNG WOMAN SOLVES ANOTHER COLD CASE

Monaco police announced today that the body found during the search for Y/N Y/L/N is that of Christian Wolff, an Austrian businessman and billionaire who lived in the principality. Wolff, who had been missing for about four years, was located in a rocky formation near Cap-d'Ail. Authorities stated that the discovery was an unexpected development in the search for Y/L/N, who remains missing.

The billionaire, known for his ventures in the financial sector, had mysteriously disappeared, sparking speculation about his whereabouts. The police have reopened the case and are now investigating the circumstances of his death; at the time, criminal involvement was ruled out as his car, a 1955 300 SL, was found near the location where he was last seen.

Authorities also confirmed that the search for Y/N Y/L/N continues, with the hope of finding her alive.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #f1 x reader #formula one fic #toto wolff fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot #formula one one shot

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 6 months ago

Text

Words: 5,818

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Era: the Whisperers

Warnings: language (lots of swearing always haha), typical TWD violence

Summary: Daryl finds himself in a tight spot in the woods when walkers are suddenly behaving in ways they shouldn't.

A/N: This is the first part of a news series! Thanks for joining me on another new adventure.

“How was it?” Carol asked, catching sight of Daryl as he came in.

The archer shrugged. “Got somethin’. Deer. Ain’t much. Was pretty scrawny, but better than nothin’. Dropped it off at the pantry,” he drawled. He hesitated and she saw it immediately.

“What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

Daryl shook his head and shrugged again. “I dunno. S’weird. I felt like somethin’ was watchin’ me out there some of the time.”

She leaned heavily on the counter, a tight frown growing on her face. “Something?”

“Or someone maybe,” Daryl said with a shrug.

The worry lines on her forehead deepened. “Well, did you see any sign of anybody out there? How close were you to here, to Hilltop?”

Daryl hauled his crossbow off his shoulder and shrugged. “I didn’t see shit. And I was a ways off but not far enough. Close enough that if somebody is out there, they’d probably stumble their way here eventually. Made sure nobody could follow me back but—” He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “I dunno.”

Carol looked worried and her eyes drifted to Henry where he stood with Alden and Earl, already starting his blacksmith training.

Daryl reflexively reached for his knife in its sheath, meaning to check the sharpness of the blade. He swore when his hand grasped at air. “Fuck!” he growled.

“What is it?” Carol asked.

Daryl sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, annoyed. “I must have left my knife out there… Prob’ly set it down after I gutted the damn deer. There were walkers comin’ and I was in a hurry.” He sighed heavily again. “Shit. I’ll go back for it tomorrow. See what else I can see out there. I can’t shake the damn feeling somethin’ was out there.”

Carol nodded, her brow still furrowed.

“Ya heard anything from Michonne? How’re the kids?” Daryl asked.

Carol’s expression dropped. “Haven’t heard. We’re still… not talking. She’s keeping Alexandria closed off.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hums, swinging his crossbow back up on his shoulder. He was about to go on, but Tara, Jesus, and Aaron come running up. They exchange greetings and hugs before Daryl excuses himself to find some place to crash with Dog for the night.

Carol puts her arm around Henry’s shoulder as they watch him wander toward the barn. “I guess he’s not so bad,” Henry comments. “Henry!” Carol scolds him, but she can’t help laughing a little herself.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl woke early like usual, plagued by the same old restlessness that never seemed to have a cause or a cure. He wanted his damn knife back, and that nagging feeling was still bothering him, like a tickle at the back of his brain, some itch he couldn’t reach to scratch. That feeling he had been watched the day before. He assembled his gear, grabbed a spare knife, and set off beyond the walls of Hilltop and back into the woods, retracing his route from the day before.

It was easy to retrace his steps. Even if he hadn’t known the woods like the back of his hand by then after his six years of wandering, the circle of vultures and noisy cawing of ravens squabbling over the gut scraps of the carcass drew him. He prepared himself in case there were walkers feeding too. He found the gut pile easily and started to search the ground nearby for his knife. He felt through the leaf litter and kicked over sticks and through nearby bramble but his search was initially fruitless. Did the damn thing sprout legs? What the hell… It wasn’t until he stood up in frustration and really scanned his surroundings that the glint of something silver caught his eye.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the metallic object. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and stood on end. He found himself carefully surveying the entirety of his surroundings again, straining his hearing for any sound of movement, squinting into the shadows cast by the large trees overhead. He cautiously approached the nearby tree trunk, watching where he placed his feet, waiting for someone to pounce like this was a trap and he was the mouse going for the cheese.

His knife was hanging from an arrow shot into the trunk of a huge oak, dangling from a leather strap. Daryl carefully slid it off and inspected it. It looked just as it had the day before, except for the addition of the makeshift loop in order to hang it from the arrow. Oh—and it had been sharpened? The blade was honed to perfection. And the arrow was something else… He grabbed and pulled on the shaft, but the head broke off and remained buried deeply in the tree. He could tell, however, that it had been handmade. The fletching was of stiff, black, glossy feathers with a slightly iridescent sheen. He spun the shaft between his fingers and watched the way the light shone on them, shifting from plum to emerald to shining sapphire blue and then back to deep night. He glanced over his shoulder, frozen, listening.

He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he knew one thing for certain now; he wasn’t imagining that feeling of being watched. But who was watching and why would they bother to hang a found knife in case its owner returned? Most people would have considered it a good find and kept it for themselves. He maintained it religiously as a rule. It was in perfect condition. Not that he was complaining… but it seemed fucking peculiar.

As he turned toward home, a raven let out a series of raspy croaks overhead and took flight. The wood was so quiet that Daryl could hear the wind through its wings as it flapped past and wheeled upwards, disappearing into the canopy of the craggy trees.

Daryl began to slowly search the area for any sign of someone, but was surprised and even more perplexed when he couldn’t seem to find a leaf or twig out of place. Not even a damn partial footprint… an impression in the ground. Nothing. The archer scoured the area thoroughly for the next couple hours, knife back in its sheath and the mysterious arrow shaft with its inky black fletching clutched in his right hand. He kept his eyes open for game, but it seemed to be making itself as scarce as clues were. There were seemingly endless game trails, old and new, and he walked them as systematically as he could. It was the easiest way to get around. Step off to either side and the blackberry brambles and vines would tear at your clothes and skin, biting in and drawing blood. That alone should have made it easier to figure out if someone was lurking around, but he found neither track nor trace… With the day wearing on and no sign of anything else out of the ordinary, Daryl conceded and decided to head back to Hilltop. At least he had his knife...

It was nearly dark by the time Daryl could see the walls of Hilltop ahead. Carol happened to be up on the guard platform when he returned, though Henry was absent. “Find anything?” she asked, surveying his expression as he came inside and the walls closed behind him. He was as stoic as always.

His hand went to the handle of his knife, replaced in its sheath. “Yes and no,” he drawled. Furrows appeared in Carol’s forehead. “Found my knife. But it was hangin’ up on this,” he said, holding up the arrow he still had clutched in his hand. “Stuck into a goddamn tree like somebody was waitin’ for me to come back for it.”

“That’s strange,” Carol murmured. She took the shaft and examined it, running a finger along the glossy black feathers at the end. Her eyes met Daryl’s, sharp and wary. Her expression was questioning. Daryl shrugged and shook his head. “I ain’t got a clue. I spent the whole day over there, crisscrossing the trails lookin’ for some sign of who was out there and all I was left with was this damn arrow. Not a boot print, not a broken twig, fuckin’ nothin’. ‘S’like it was left by a damn ghost.”

“Why would someone would pin it up for you to find again? Why wouldn’t they just keep it?” she questioned him, handing the arrow shaft back. Daryl shrugged.

“Dunno…” he murmured, twirling it in his hands. He looked around at the afternoon shadows crawling slowly over Hilltop and sighed. “How’re things? Henry?” he drawled, patting Dog’s head absently.

“He’s… doing okay,” she said, smiling. “I think it’s going to take him a little time to find his place here. But Alden and Earl have gotten him started.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t be easy tryin’ to figure out bein’ ‘round other kids his age for the first time,” Daryl commented.

“No,” Carol said. “But I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” she added with a tight smile.

Daryl looked up as Jesus, Aaron, and Tara were suddenly making their way down the hill toward him and Carol with grim expressions.

“S’matter?” Daryl drawled, fiddling with his bandana absently as they came to a stop in front of him.

“Early this morning, Aaron and I found Rosita collapsed and exhausted out in the woods. She fired a flare. She and Eugene were working on something when walkers came up on them. Eugene’s hurt. She said she left him in a barn and was trying to get here for help. She’s in the infirmary,” Jesus explained.

“Eugene is still out there,” Aaron said, looking at Daryl. “We could really use your tracking skills. I don’t want to risk him spending another night out there.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.” And the three of them, Daryl, Aaron, and Jesus (and Dog) prepared to head out and search for Eugene.

They headed back toward where Aaron and Jesus had found Rosita and Daryl realized it wasn’t far from where he’d shot the deer and forgotten his knife. He pondered this, but didn’t say anything to Jesus or Aaron. He did, however, continue scrutinizing the ground closely for any sign or Eugene or anyone else.

They came to the edge of a large field and Daryl stopped dead. “What the hell?” he drawled. Aaron and Jesus stopped beside him, squinting at a herd in the field moving in concentric circles.

“Have—have either of you ever seen walkers do that before?” Jesus asked. Both Aaron and Daryl shook their heads.

“Never,” Daryl said, his gaze sharp as he studied the swirling horde. “C’mon. We ain’t got long before dark.” He led the way again with Dog out slightly in front. Moving through the woods as silently as possible, Daryl knew they were now very close to where he’d shot the deer. The hair on the back of his neck prickled again and he stopped as a gust of wind suddenly kicked up at their backs. “Stop,” he said suddenly, throwing up a hand. Jesus and Aaron stood still. “I can hear ‘em,” Daryl drawled. “On the wind.”

Straining their hearing, Jesus and Aaron heard the growls on the wind now too. “They’re following,” Aaron said, glancing back. Through the trees, wandering shapes could barely be seen. “Did they see us?” he asked.

Jesus stared at the incoming herd, suspicious and at a loss. “I don’t know. But we better keep moving.” Night had fallen by the time Daryl was able to trace Rosita’s trail back to the barn. They found Eugene huddled in the cellar. He was nearly incoherent, shaking and sweaty. “C’mon. We gotta go, Eugene,” Daryl insisted.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked concernedly as soon as they had hauled him up from the hidden cellar.

“I took a bad step and dislocated my knee,” Eugene said, still shaking.

“Well, if it’s dislocated we can just pop it back in,” Daryl said, his brow furrowed.

“No. No, listen to me,” he argues, wiping sweat from his brow. “The herd that followed us here is on its way back.”

“I saw their tracks,” Daryl drawled, not understanding his frantic tone and his trembling. “They’re gone…”

“No. It’s not. It’s already been through here twice. It’s lookin’ for me,” he insisted. “Eugene—” Jesus started. “No! We have to get out of here before it comes back! This wasn’t a normal run-of-the-mill bunch of wandering dead,” he says in his Texas twang.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, wide-eyed and unsettled by Eugene’s behavior.

He lowered his voice. “When they passed us by, we could hear them—they were whispering to each other.”

Everyone exchanged confused and stunned glances. “You mean they were—talking?” Aaron asked.

Eugene was almost crying he was so frantic. “I know how it sounds! But Rosita heard it too. She’ll corroborate!”

Suddenly, Dog barked. The herd was back and inbound.

Daryl rushed to look out the window. “Shit,” he swore. “They’re gonna cut us off… Look, you two get him outta here. I’ll distract ‘em, lead em away so you can cover some ground. This dun make any damn sense,” Daryl said, pacing the length of the barn.

“They shouldn’t have doubled back like that and they definitely shouldn’t have followed us to the barn,” Jesus agree, shouldering Eugene’s weight with Aaron.

“It ain’t right,” Daryl agreed. “Alrigh’, go. Go! I’ll lead ‘em off. Go! C’mon boy!” Dog rushed after Daryl as the other three made their way slowly in the opposite direction.

Daryl and Dog pounded the pavement as fast as they could until they reached a dilapidated trailer house on the side of the road, not too far from the fork where he’d separated from the others. Daryl hurriedly heaved himself up on the top and withdrew some firecrackers from his bag, flicking his lighter, and lighting the fuse. He tossed them out onto the pavement and they soon were popping and banging with a burst of sound that echoed up and down the lonely road. Dog barked at the herd in the distance and Daryl watched as some of the walkers began to turn toward him and away from the direction of Eugene, Aaron, and Jesus. “Keep ‘em comin’ boy,” he called down to Dog, squinting in the fog and darkness.

All was as it should be at first; the walkers were following the sound. And then suddenly, they weren’t. The ones who had veered off were suddenly pulled back the way they had come as if drawn by some magnetic force correcting their course again. Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hurriedly hushed Dog and stared, bewildered and desperate as the horde continued in the direction of his friends.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shit!”

Daryl hurriedly slung himself over the edge, hung from the edge and then dropped down onto the ground. Dog ran up beside him. Huddled in the grass, he wondered frantically what to do. He had to get to the others—they wouldn’t know what was coming until it was too late. But how?

“Fuck it,” Daryl muttered, straightening up and dashing across the road into the brush on the other side. He followed parallel to the walkers, trying to get ahead of them so he could reach the others, but it was hard as they walked on the old highway and he had to scramble through windfalls and brambles, Dog bouncing in front of him. He found the path of least resistance suddenly cutting closer and closer to the road and the horde.

Overhead, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Daryl ducked low in the shadows, eyeing the progress of the walkers, constantly trying to pass them and stay hidden. Soon the developing fog was closing in around him and he could barely see ten feet. Suddenly, Dog let out a low growl and Daryl froze, sensing some mass behind him. His hand twitched to his knife and he withdrew it. He spun and was face to face with a lunging walker, its hands raised and slashing like claws. He struck with his knife and it dropped. Daryl stumbled backward and swung his bow off his shoulder as his back hit the trunk of a large tree. He fired a bolt as another figure emerged from the fog reaching for him. Dog leapt and attacked as another walker stumbled forward. Daryl readied his knife again. They were closing in. He was hemmed in on all sides, the tree at his back, and as he stood, trying to prepare himself, panic threatening to drown him as he faced the certainty of his own death, he did hear the whispers.

Kill. Kill him. Kill. Tear. Rip him apart. Kill.

“Dog! Here! Get back!” Daryl yelled, waiting for the next of the circle of walkers around him to lunge. He watched with confusion as a huge walking, lumbering toward him, was struck by an arrow, seemingly rained down from above. It fell with weight in front of him, tripping up another. Then Daryl was suddenly struck hard on the head by something which then tumbled down over his shoulder.

Distracted, he looked to see a rough-looking rope ladder with wooden steps cascading beside him from out of the tree. Another walker jolted forward, snarling, and Dog clamped down on its head and didn’t stop biting until it lay still. Daryl kicked another back to keep it off Dog. He craned his neck to look up the ladder, up into the huge old oak tree, but he could see nothing high up in the darkness and haze of the fog. There was a sudden moan and snarl and Daryl found himself holding off a walker at arm’s length, grappling with it to keep its snapping jaws away from his neck. There was a sharp swish and a rush of air and the walker he was fighting went suddenly still, an arrow buried in its face. Daryl had half a moment to note that the fletching was black as midnight before it fell at his feet.

More of the dead pressed in. He stabbed two more and another arrow from above pierced the head of a third. He glanced back up at the tree and the dangling ladder. Did he have a choice? He looked back at the circle of walkers pressing ever more closely in. Another couple began to stagger forward. Dog barked frantically, facing them bravely, trying to protect Daryl. No choice. He had no choice. “Dog! C’mon! Up! Get up!” He seized the bottom of the ladder and pulled it slightly out, using all his weight to hold it taught as Dog let out a nervous bark and then ran up it like a ramp at full speed, scrambling a little against the trunk and more vertical steps near the top but finally disappearing into the darkness under the eaves of the tree. Daryl heaved out a final breath, slung his bow across his back and scrambled up after him. He felt fingertips on his ankle and kicked hard to free himself but the grip was strong. Another rush of air and the sharp sound of a passing arrow and the grip disappeared.

He climbed, heart racing, until he arrived at a surprisingly large wooden platform, built in among the thick branches. He spilled onto it and lay flat on his back, trying to catch his breath. Dog surged forward, anxious paws tapping, and licked his face.

Daryl startled as a dark figure moved beside him and quickly heaved the rope ladder up, rolling it into a neat coil and dropping it onto the platform before retreating again to the other side to lean back against a particularly large offshoot of the tree trunk. Daryl hurriedly rolled over and sat up on his knees, squinting into the darkness. Below, the growls and snarls seemed even louder and he could still hear the faintest rustle and hush of whispers woven in among them.

Dog circled and sat beside Daryl, peering with interest at the dark-clad figure. Daryl waited with bated breath for a long time to see if they would speak. They didn’t.

They were set back in shadow and he couldn’t make out much about them at all until lightning burst overhead again and he could barely see that they had on a sort of dark cloak with a hood and clutched a bow in one hand.

There was an increasing roar of crackling and rustling all around him and Daryl realized that it had started raining, but he felt no drops falling on him. Looking upwards, he saw with the next burst of lightning that there was another platform above him. He glanced back down at the figure. They were still unmoving. He watched as they set their bow aside and then raised their hands and pushed back their hood. Another fork of lightning lit the sky.

He gulped. His heart did a strange lurch in his chest. He was staring at you, and you were staring back at him. He was at a loss for anything to say. Below, the growls and snarls went on and on…

You were studying him carefully, your eyes narrowed, lips parted a little and slightly pursed.

He attempted to clear his throat, but it felt tight all of a sudden. “‘M Daryl,” he said, having to nearly yell over the torrent of rain and continued rolling booms of thunder.

You reached for your bow again, not taking your eyes off him.

“I—I think ya just saved my life. And Dog’s too. Well—I know ya did,” he said lamely, trailing off.

Instead of responding, he watched as you slung your bow on one shoulder and then turned and started to climb up the large vertical branch you’d been standing in front of with an agility and speed that was astonishing.

“Wait—hey!” he called after you.

But the tail of your dark cloak was already licking around the platform above and you were gone. Dog trotted over to where you’d been, sniffing and then looking up the branch. He let out a low whine and wagged his tail.

“What the fuck?” Daryl muttered, climbing to his feet and going to stand where you’d been. He examined the tree trunk, half-expecting to find steps or footholds drilled in that allowed you to climb so swiftly but there was nothing but the rough bark of the tree. He ran his fingers over it. He couldn’t imagine how you’d gotten a hold. Another bright burst of lightning shot through the sky and a loud boom of thunder rolled. Daryl backed away from the edge and sank down in the middle of the platform beside his pack and crossbow. He hauled his bow onto his lap, set another bolt in the flight groove, and drew it back so it was ready to fire in a hurry if needed. There he sat, rigid, staring into the darkness around him, Dog at his side.

His heart sank as he thought of Jesus, Aaron, and Eugene. He hoped they were safe. What a massive fucking misadventure this had been. But as he sat clutching his bow, wondering who the fuck you were, why the fuck you’d helped him, where the fuck you’d gone now (up the tree?), his mind did continually wander back to the whispering... He’d heard it. Exactly as Eugene had said. And the herd had behaved unlike any other he’d ever seen. They’d doubled back. They’d ignored the lights and sounds of the firecrackers. They’d rerouted. They seemed to move with purpose. They didn’t just wander. He didn’t know what it meant, why it occurred, but it was terrifying. _ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl awoke with a start when Dog let out a soft woof and he shot upright, grappling for his bow. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, especially being twenty-five feet in the air, but he had finally succumbed to exhaustion when the storm had passed in the wee hours of the morning. His back was stiff and tight from sleeping on the hard wood and he attempted to stretch to relieve the worst of it but was far too aware of you staring at him.

Now, he was looking back at you in the light of morning where you’d just climbed down on another ladder from the upper platform. This ladder passed through a hole in the platform above and he again remembered how skillfully you’d ascended without it the night before.

You were still dressed in mostly black, but the cloak and hood you’d worn during the night were gone. Along with your bow and a quiver full of arrows, there was a small bag slung across your body and you knelt and slipped it off. You flipped it open and pulled out a thermos and a chunk of crusty bread. You thrust them toward him and he eyed them somewhat warily. You finally just set them down and then stood, shifting your bow and quiver to the side, and leaning back against the tree trunk in the same way you had the night before. You crossed your arms over your chest and surveyed him.

Your eyes were bright and the colors seemed to flash in the morning sun. Daryl gulped and then cautiously reached for the bread and thermos. He unscrewed the top and sniffed its contents. Steam rose up and it was accompanied by an earthy and slightly sweet smell. Hot tea. Tea… in a tree? He was baffled. Did you have a fire up there somewhere? A stove? What the fuck? he thought for the hundredth time in a day’s time.

He looked up at you again and set the thermos aside. His eyes flickered down to your quiver. The feathers of the fletching were all glossy black. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ya found my knife the other day.” A long beat of silence. You were unreadable. “Why’d ya—hang it back up for me to find?” he asked. “Ya knew I’d come back lookin’?”

Still nothing.

“Were ya watchin’ me out here before?”

Silence.

He was getting slightly annoyed. “Christ, d’ya speak at all or—”

“Yes,” you said suddenly. “I do.”

Now, Daryl’s mouth was hanging partially open.

“But I’m not in the habit of speaking with strangers.”

“Well,” he straightened up a bit, clearing his throat, “’M Daryl. And this is Dog,” he said, ruffling the Malinois’ fur. He waited to see if you’d reciprocate the introduction but you merely shifted a little. Daryl chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

“How’d you get mixed up in that mess last night anyway?” you asked him. You couldn’t help studying his every little movement closely, watching for a microscopic flash that something was off, waiting for him to suddenly reveal himself to be something… dark. But you saw nothing like that. Not yet, anyway. But he was obviously strong, capable. Careful, you cautioned yourself mentally.

Daryl’s stomach turned as he thought again of Eugene and Aaron and Jesus. He scolded himself for not thinking of them until now after waking up. “S’kinda a long story,” he drawled. “I was tryin’ to lead ‘em away from somewhere. Guess it backfired.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Lead them? Of course it went wrong,” you said, looking at him like that was the most obvious thing ever, or maybe more like he was a fucking idiot.

His brow furrowed low over his blue eyes. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well, the shepherds, obviously,” you said, deadpan.

“The—who?”

You straightened up, perplexed as you stared back at him. “The shepherds.” There was no understanding or recognition on his face. “Of the dead.”

Daryl only stared back at you, utterly confused.

You shook your head a little. “Couldn’t you hear them?” you asked him.

Finally, he nodded. “Ya mean the—the whisperin’?”

“Yes. It’s the shepherds,” you said again.

He still looked confused. You sighed and walked over the coiled ladder and nudged it off the edge with your foot. “Come down. I’ll show you.”

Daryl watched you slip down with ease and then glanced at Dog. “Stay, boy,” he said, and he followed more clumsily down the ladder behind you, feeling cautiously with his boots for the next step. He felt overly large and awkward behind you. When he planted his boots back on solid ground again, he was surprised to see the number of dead walkers lying at the base of the tree. You had shot more than he’d noticed the night before in all the chaos. Most had a thick arrow shaft capped with black feathers protruding from its head. You went about collecting your arrows. You paused at the last one and gave him a significant look before rolling it over with your boot so it was facedown. You bent and Daryl moved closer. “Here. See?” You pointed at the back of the head. At first, Daryl didn’t understand what he was supposed to be looking at. You withdrew a knife from your hip with a skillful movement and slipped the blade up the back of the head. It was as you did this that Daryl finally saw the lacing, like a shoelace, on the back of the head.

“What the hell?” he growled.

Once the lacing was cut, you gripped the scraggly hair on the top of the head and tugged. The whole head seemed to come off at first until he realized it was slipping off like a mask. You held it up with a disgusted look on your face for him to see.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he drawled. He turned the body back over and found himself looking at a person. Not one who had ever turned to the undead, but the very human-looking corpse of a person dead from your arrow the night before. He stood up, in slight shock.

You dropped the horrifying mask to the ground. “They wear skins, herd the dead. They walk with them. Control them,” you said. “The shepherds.”

“Why?” Daryl asked.

You didn’t answer, simply stared at him stony-faced, sheathed your knife, stuffed the arrows you’d collected back in your quiver, and climbed the ladder back up into the tree.

As a last thought, Daryl grabbed the mask and crammed it into the inside pocket in his vest. Then, he followed you back up.

Daryl found you sitting at the edge petting Dog when he pulled himself back onto the platform. The bread and thermos were still sitting there in the middle and his hunger reared its head. He grabbed the bread and sank down beside his pack and bow again.

“What d’ya know ‘bout these shepherds?” he asked you again. “These—Whisperers?”

Your eyes flickered up to his face and then back to Dog as you picked a burr out of his coat. “They almost killed you last night. What more do you need to know?”

“Alrigh’…” Daryl drawled, biting off another piece of bread. “Ya ain’t even gonna tell me yer name? Where ya came from?”

Your eyes snapped up to his face again. “You don’t owe me your backstory and I certainly don’t owe you mine,” you said. You stood abruptly as the croak of a raven sounded nearby. “You led that herd right to my tree—”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “Ain’t like I did that on purpose. I didn’t know somebody was livin’ in a fuckin’ tree—it coulda been any tree in a thousand.”

“But it wasn’t. And I saved your ass—”

Daryl was slightly incredulous. “Ya want another thank you? Or an apology?” he asked, standing.

Your hand reflexively strayed to your knife as he rose to his full height. “And now I’ll have to move—”

Daryl continued to stare at you, baffled. The raven croaked again nearby. “Why the hell did ya even save me and Dog?” he asked.

“Should I not have?” you retorted. Abruptly, you tore your eyes from his face. “I think it’s time you go. I’m sure your people are worried,” you said, patting Dog once more time.

“Hang on—how d’ya know I got people?” Daryl pressed you.

“You have people,” you said.

“Do you have people?” he asked.

You ignored his question. “I can fit a harness on your dog to lower him down,” you said.

“Forget it,” Daryl growled. He shoved what was left of the chunk of bread into his pack and slung it across his back. He shouldered his crossbow. “Thanks for breakfast. Dog. Shoulders, c’mon!”

Daryl bent his knees and Dog propelled himself onto Daryl’s shoulders and balanced there. Daryl was bowed slightly under the weight and you watched, somewhat amazed as he navigated the edge of the platform and climbed the ladder back down. You leaned over and watched Dog jump down. Daryl readied his crossbow in his hands, prepared to set out.

You couldn’t resist having the last word. “Daryl,” you called down. He looked up. “You didn’t thank me, technically, for saving your life.”

Daryl peered up, disbelieving. “Last night, I said—”

“You stated a fact, that I did,” you interrupted. “That isn’t a ‘thank you’.”

He swore under his breath. “Hey, what the hell is your problem?” he growled back.

And for the first time, Daryl saw you smile, and his stomach seemed to somersault in his midsection. Just then, a huge raven swooped in and perched on your shoulder, letting out a raspy noise as a greeting and ruffling its feathers as you scratched beneath its bill affectionately. “Bye, Daryl. Be careful of the shepherds. And I’ll ask that you just go and forget about me.” And with that, you disappeared, and the ladder behind him slowly began to raise as you reeled it back up.

Daryl had seen a lot of shit in his time since the world fell, but this? You? Some mysterious woman living in a tree with a fucking pet raven? What the fuck... This was something else entirely. Forget about you? Not fucking likely.

#daryl dixon x reader series #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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drabblesandimagines · 9 months ago

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Dove (part eight)

Leon Kennedy x female reader (bodyguard trope, domestic fluff and the slowest, slow burn I swear) Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven.

Leon emerges from the garage, a folding chair tucked under his arm, and locks the door – as always - behind him.

“Success.” He smiles, using his other arm to hold it out in demonstration before carrying it into the bathroom. He unfolds it in a swift motion, placing it right against the sink, with its back to the side. “What else do we need?”

“A jug or something, maybe, to rinse? Probably awkward just with the taps.” As if it’s not already awkward enough that the man assigned for your protection is about to wash your hair.

“Got it.” He strides over to the kitchen to start opening various cupboards in search, whilst you carry the shampoo and conditioner over to the sink counter one by one in preparation, before grabbing a couple of towels. Finally, you shrug off the zip-up you’d thrown over upon leaving the bathroom what must’ve only been five minutes ago, a black tank top underneath. You reason no matter how careful you know Leon will be, it’s going to get damp.

You take the sling and the zip-up and drape them over the back of the couch for later, when Leon pops up from below the kitchen counter, raising his hand to show off the jug as if it was a trophy.

“Got it!”

You smile at his demonstration and head into the bathroom, expecting Leon to follow but his footsteps cease.

“Jeez, Dove.” He sucks in air between his teeth in sympathy, eyes fixed on your back - deep purple and yellow bruises all across your shoulder blades. “No wonder you can’t stretch up – got some nasty bruises back there.”

“What?” You turn your head to the right, but all you get is a twinge of pain for your troubles.

“Looks real tender. A lot worse than the other night.” You open your mouth to question what he means by that, but you remember that he’d seen your back previously when he’d helped you undress.

“Oh…” You’d shrug if you knew it wouldn’t hurt. “Must’ve been from the stairs.”

Or the creature throwing you against the wall.

“Yeah…” He nods before following you into the bathroom and placing the jug down besides the sink. “Right. Take a seat, please.”

You sit down, tentatively, on the folding chair and lean your head back, trying to make it meet the sink. The chair’s a little too low, your head awkwardly on the ledge and you sit back up, panic bubbling in your stomach.

“Actually, this is probably not goi-“

Leon holds out a hand – stopping himself from grabbing you by the shoulders to keep you seated in fear of causing you pain. “Got an idea. Wait a second.”

He turns and leaves the bathroom as you remain sitting awkwardly, before he returns with a throw cushion from the couch. “This’ll boost you up a bit. At least give it a go, hey?”

You stand up whilst he places it down on the seat and, again, you sit down cautiously, adjusting your position. It has helped elevate you, perhaps a tad too much, but Leon is already a step ahead – rolling up one of the hand towels and sliding it between your neck and the sink counter.

“There, balanced out. Comfortable enough?”

“Mm-hm. Thanks.”

He leans over you to turn on the taps, fiddling with the temperature and running his own fingers through it before filling the jug up in preparation.

“Ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

He pours a small splash of pleasantly warm water over your scalp before pausing. “Water temperature okay?”

You can’t help but laugh at the question. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“And what’s so funny?” He looks down at you, his brows quizzical.

“You. I mean…” You bite back another laugh. “You, sounding like a hairstylist.”

“Well,” he tilts his head in thought, “let’s just see how this goes first. Could be something else to add to my ever-expanding resume.”

Leon proceeds to pour the jug of water over your scalp, being mindful of the steristrips still in place on your forehead. You’ve got a good angle as he leans over of his jawline, defined, looks to be freshly shaved but you hadn’t seen any razors on the counter top.

It clicks, then. Of course there wouldn’t be. Protocol – you hear it in Leon’s voice. When this is all over, you hope you never hear that word again.

Next, he opens up the shampoo bottle and squirts out an amount, lathering it up between his palms.

“I’d recommend you close your eyes from here on out – just in case.”

You do so - closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as he begins to lather the shampoo through your hair, methodical in his work, scrunching his fingers into the roots. You thought it’d feel horribly awkward once he’d started this part, the same way you do at the hairdressers if truth be told, staring up awkwardly at the ceiling, but as Leon continues to massage your scalp, you feel more calm and relaxed than you have in not only days, but maybe even weeks. Once satisfied, he begins to rinse it out with the aid of the jug of water, holding one of his palms horizontal against your forehead, acting as a barrier to any water or shampoo that might dare to run down.

“Conditioner too?”

“Please.”

Leon’s never done this for anyone before, but he takes it as seriously as he does when cleaning his weapons – thorough and methodical, wants to do a good job. You look so content as he massages your scalp – a warm feeling in his stomach to know that the blissful smile on your lips is from his touch and attentions alone. A thought bubbles up – positions reversed, wondering what it would feel like to have your fingers massaging into his scalp.

He knows you’re meant to let conditioner sit for a moment, so he keeps running his fingers through your hair whilst he waits - completely entranced by the peaceful look on your face, the subtle smile on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t hold off forever, no matter how long he wants to stay in that moment – not return to reality with its bioweapons and questions from Hunnigan. It is with reluctance that he fills the jug and begins to rinse your hair a couple of times, making sure it’s completely washed out. “Okay…” He scrunches your hair carefully to try and rid it of the excess water. “I think that’s that step done, so towel or brush next?”

You open your eyes and lift your head, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he waits for your response. “Erm, towel. Would you mind…?”

He’s already reached over for one and drapes it over your head. “I just kinda…” He mimics the action of towel-drying his own hair.

You hold back a laugh. “That’s the one.”

“Right.” He puts his example into practice, a little more cautious than he would be with his own hair. “Then brush?”

“If that’s okay. Hopefully tomorrow it won’t be as sore, so I can do it an-“

“I won’t mind. Just let me know, okay?”

You nod, and he looks so focused as he starts to run the brush through your hair, mindful of pulling at tangles. You’ve seen the same look when he heads out for his perimeter checks – he’s taken this whole thing as seriously as he does his work. You feel like you could cry at how gentle he’s been with you, going above and beyond with everything.

Truth be told, the care Leon had provided you in the last few days has been more than you’d ever received from your jerk of an ex-boyfriend from however long ago it now was. Everything had seemed too much for him, any request met with a sigh or a huff of annoyance.

“Thank you. I know you said I don’t have to thank you but, you know, everything you’ve done for me is just…”

“You’re welcome, Dove.” His smile is bashful, the arm comes up to rub his neck and you can’t help but wonder if you make him feel as nervous as you feel. “Can I help with the sling?”

“That’d be great.” You follow him back out to the living room where he picks it up off the back of the sofa and swiftly gets your arm situated once more, making subtle adjustments with gentle touches until he’s happy with the fit.

“That feel okay?” He asks, a cautious palm hovering over your good shoulder.

“Perfect.” You reply, feeling goosebumps travel up your other arm from his proximity.

Leon seems to notice immediately, picking up on body language cues had been a part of his training after all. “Here,” he picks up the zip-up, helping you thread one arm through before draping the other side over your shoulder. “You looked a little cold.”

There’s a sharp pain in your eye, ruining your train of thought. “Ow.” You wince, ducking your head down in reflex.

“Did I hurt you? Shit.“ Was he too rough with the sling? Maybe you had some sort of head wound that the medic missed? There’s no chance for you to reply, though. “Here, sit down,” there’s a warm palm at the small of your back as he ushers you down to the sofa before he crouches down in front. “What hurts?”

“Nothing, I swear. I…” You rub your eye with your good hand before looking back up, blinking furiously to try and ease the irritation. “I think it’s an eyelash.”

“Can I take a look?”

“Yeah.” You nod, leaning in.

“Look up again for me?” He doesn’t know why he does it – could play it off as keeping your head still so he didn’t poke you in the eye – but he cups your cheek with one hand and gently presses his index finger of his other near your watering eyeline, catching the culprit.

“Got it.” He smiles, before gently wiping the spilt tears with his thumb. “Better?”

“Thanks.” You look back down, meeting his blue eyes, feeling heat prickle over your cheeks. You’re closer than you thought.

You should move back.

Leon knows he should let go.

You lean forward.

Leon’s palm slips from your cheek to caress the back of your head, gently, tangling his fingers in your damp hair.

You place your hand on his thigh then, steadying yourself, and close your eyes.

You can feel Leon’s exhale of breath across your lips, another arm slipping around your waist and…

Beep.

You swear your heart jumps up into your throat as Leon’s pocket begins to beep continuously, a harsh, piercing noise. He jumps up to his feet, one hand digging his cell out of his pocket and the other going for his holster.

“Fuck - perimeter alarm.” He mutters, tapping something on the screen to make the horrendous noise stop, though it continues to echo around your head.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is tight, heart pounding in your ears.

“Something’s tripped it.” He mutters, before catching the look on your face. Good job being reassuring, Kennedy. “I’m sure it’ll be nothing, Dove. Probably an animal or, hell, even a strong gust of wind can do it if the angle’s right.” He’s heading towards the garage door again and you awkwardly turn, following his path, watching as he fishes the keys out of a pocket. “I need you to stay right there whilst I go check it out, okay?”

“Is that safe?”

“You’re safe in here – I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“No, I know.” And you do, you believe it with your whole heart. “But I mean, if it's not an animal or the wind... Will you be safe?”

He can’t help but grin as he withdraws his gun, clicking the safety off. “They won't be.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! Part nine.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

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✨capturing magic: park sunghoon

a vampires bleeding series: four / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 5.3k

synopsis: your witchy presence causes an uproar with sunghoon, him not enjoying the idea of you being anywhere near him. as you struggle to regain your strength and magic, the banter between you and sunghoon continue grow along with the pull of fate.

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, vampire!sunghoon, photographer!sunghoon, witch!reader, angst, some fluff.

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, y/n has long black hair and facial piercings, stubbornly cute sunghoon ♡

“YOU BROUGHT BACK A WITCH?!” Sunghoon snapped, his jaw clenching tightly.

“Yes!!” the dhampir snapped back, “We couldn’t leave her there to die!!”

Sunghoon was filled with anger, blood boiling.

“Let's all calm down…” Heeseung spoke up, placing a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Sunghoon slapped his hand away, “Hyung, that dhampir bringing this witch here will put us all in danger!!”

“This witch is one of my best friends!” She yelled, “I wasn’t going to leave her, end of story!”

Sunghoon scoffed, “Yeah, and if we all die it’ll be the damn dhampir’s fault.”

“Hey!” Jake yelled, getting in his best friend's face, “That damn dhampir is my mate, watch your words. She’s in our pack now.”

The room fell silent. Sunghoon figured he would have connected with the dhampir, the tension between the two was too obvious.

“And for the record,” Jake said, taking a step back away from Sunghoon, “I’m the one who said to bring the witch here. We need information once she wakes up.”

Sunghoon looks away from his friend, looking at the witch lying unconscious on the couch.

He knew Jake was right. In order to stop Dorian, they needed any information possible.

Sunghoon releases a breath, “Fine, do what you want with the witch.”

And with that, Sunghoon stormed off.

—

“Easy does it,” Heeseung grabbed your hands, helping you sit up.

It’s been exactly a week since Dorian burned down your village and killed your coven. You were the only surviving member.

Your heart ached for those you’ve lost, but you knew their souls were somewhere free from the cruelness of this world.

Most of your burns have healed from your recovery spell, but you still ached with each movement, making it harder for you to move. On top of that, your right leg was broken. And no recovery spell could make that heal any faster.

The vampires have shown you kindness for the most part. One in particular doesn’t care for you much.

Once you were completely sat up, you thanked Heeseung.

Jay knelt down beside you, looking at the bandages that covered your arms, slowly lifting them up to look at your skin.

“We can probably remove the bandages,” He said, lifting more of the bandage up to get a better look at your skin, “The only thing is, there’s a lot of scarring.”

You nodded, “Recovery spells can only go so far.”

Jay removed the bandages, relieving the scars. You didn’t realize how bad they actually were until you looked directly at them.

Flashbacks to the fire came back, shaking you to the core. You dropped your head into your hands, begging for the thoughts to go away.

“Y/N,” your best friend drops beside you, her hands set gently on your shoulders, “what’s wrong?”

Her voice alone was enough to snap you out of it, you quickly looked up at her, giving a nod, “I am fine, the scars just…”

She sighs, “It brought back the memories?”

You nodded again.

A scoff happened from across the room. You immediately glared in its direction.

Sunghoon leaned against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, his black hair falling against his eyes.

“Got something to say, bloodsucker?” you hissed.

Sunghoon raised a brow, “You gonna put a hex on me or something, witch?”

You gripped the blanket that covered your legs, “I just might!”

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. He smiled just enough to show his sharpened fangs and cracked his knuckles.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Jungwon snapped, looking between the two of you, “This situation isn’t ideal, but we all have one goal in common, so please for the love of everything put your differences to the side and shut the fuck up.”

Sunghoon sighed, retracting his fangs.

“Good boy, listen to your leader.” you gave him a wink.

“Y/N,” Jungwon warned.

You sighed and relaxed your body. You were powerless in your current situation.

A pack of vampires and two humans were your only source of protection at the current moment. Your coven was destroyed. This is all you have right now.

Sunghoon scoffed, then stormed out the door into the night.

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs to bathe and sleep in a bed finally?” your dhampir friend asks, giving you a soft smile.

You removed the blanket, and more burn scars trailed down your left leg, while the other was covered in a cast from your knee down.

You pulled your shorts down, trying to hide the scars.

“Hey,” Jay’s mate kneels beside your friend, her soft hands taking yours, “These scars are proof that you survived, don’t try to hide them.”

You wanted to protest, to shout that she doesn’t understand what it meant to survive after what you went through.

But then you noticed the scars on her neck. It didn’t take long for you to recognize that those scars were caused by Dorian. That __ survived almost being killed by him.

You forced a smile, “These scars don’t just show that I survived, they show what I also lost.”

“Then you’ll carry them with you forever,” she gives you a soft smile, “It’ll be a reminder of what Dorian has done, and what will be done to get back at him.”

She was right. You gave her a smile back with a nod.

Jay pulled his mate up and to his chest, wrapping her in his arms, “__ always knows what to say.”

Their bond pulled at each of them. Jungwon pulls __ to him and Jake pulls your friend to himself. Sunoo, Niki, and Heeseung had smiles watching their pack.

You too had a smile. You could feel the bond they shared. Their vibes and how their energies matched.

You looked at your friend and Jake. The way he held her so tightly and her head in the crease of his neck.

Your heart danced for them. You knew how much losing her first mate did a number on her. But you truly believe Jake was meant to be hers completely. She just had to go through some bullshit shit first.

Eventually, you had enough of the love birds, positioning yourself to stand up.

Your recovery spell healed your broken leg enough that you were able to stand up straight and still walk…but just barely.

Your half-blooded friend noticed your struggles, releasing herself from Jake to help you up the stairs and into the bathroom.

The reflection you saw in the mirror haunted you, a burn scar covering your left eye and up the side of your forehead. The recovery magic healed it enough that it was a light pink.

A sigh escaped your lips, as you turned and faced away from the mirror.

You cleaned yourself up, washing away the couch bum life you had for the last week.

You were so glad to finally be able to sleep in a bed. Archer was nice enough to run to the nearest supermarket to buy you extra clothes, bed sheets, and other witchy essentials to have here.

Your new room was filled with plants and crystals and a few books that Jake was able to salvage from the fire.

You tried to stay awake to read, but your eyes failed you. After not sleeping in a bed for over a week, it was way too comfortable.

—

You stood in front of the mirror, pulling your long black hair behind you and into a braid. Your bangs pull out perfectly down the sides of your face.

Your half-blooded friend brought you some jewelry to wear, which you were ecstatic about.

Witches can’t go without jewelry, right?

You pull some rings onto your fingers, then dangle earrings into your ears.

A perfectly black hooped nose ring suited your nose and a lace choker around your neck and a short silver bar on your eyebrow.

You pulled a white cropped tank top over you and a black baggy pair of cargo pants and black boot, and black cast boot on your right leg to match.

A beautiful light brown cardigan made the outfit even more perfect.

You did a three-sixty in the mirror, finally feeling and looking like yourself.

You stared at the scar on your eye. You traced your fingers over it, feeling the rough skin.

Dropping your hand back at your side, you turn and walk away from the mirror.

The kitchen was lively, and laughter from your new friends echoed up the stairs as you made your way down.

Jay stood at the counter flipping pancakes and bacon, a bag of blood attached to his lips.

The two humans stood behind Jay, begging him to hurry with breakfast and Jay tried his best to shoo them off.

Jake sat with __ on the couch. She ate a bowl of cereal while Jake drank his own bag of blood.

Sunoo, Jungwon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table with a map in front of them discussing the layout of the area.

Niki also sat at the table, backpack in his lap, and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a juice box.

You giggled and walked over to the table, “You really are stuck in a seventeen-year-old body arentcha?”

Niki rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately.”

Heeseung checked his watch, “Off to school.”

Niki groaned, throwing his head back against the wall, “This fucking sucks.”

You softly smiled at the younger, “I’ll walk you out.”

Niki stood up, throwing the backpack on.

You went to the fridge, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water. The piles of blood bags filled the bottom shelf.

Seeing the bags reminded you that one bloodsucker in particular was missing.

“Where’s the idiot bloodsucker at?” you asked anyone who would give you an answer.

Jake perked up, “That idiot bloodsucker has a name,” you shrugged your shoulders, and Jake sighed, “He’s outside doing his photography.”

Your dhampir friend smiles at you, “Worried about him, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes, “He annoys me.”

She smirked at you, “You look pretty.”

You toss your braid over your shoulder, “Of course I do, part of being a witch is also being charming.”

The vampires groan, which you expected. They might be being nice to you for the moment, but witches and vampires still don’t get along.

You grabbed a blood bag along with your other items and closed the fridge.

You patted Niki’s back, “Come on baby bro, let’s get you off to school.”

—

Sunghoon sat up in a tree, camera in hand, and snapping photos of the open land.

The morning sunrise hit the land perfectly. He changed a few filter and lens settings, finding the perfect combination.

His mood changed once he heard the door to the house open, sensing Niki and you stepping out of the house.

Sunghoon turned around, watching as you waved Niki off, him going into a full sprint and gone within seconds.

You took a bite out of the apple in your hands, looking around until you made eye contact with him.

Sunghoon glared before turning his attention back to his camera.

“You lack a lot of manners bloodsucker, ya know that?”

Sunghoon scoffed, looking down at you who was now underneath him.

“Why do you care about my manners, hmm?”

“Haven’t you heard? We have a common goal, gotta act like friends, don’t want Jungwon to snap our necks, right?” You loved teasing him. You loved how irritated you made him and how you knew exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Deep down you really wanted to get along with all the vampires, Sunghoon was just the only one not budging.

Sunghoon ignored you, his jaw clenched as he held the camera back up.

You whistle at him, his eyebrow rising.

Sunghoon was fixing to snap, “I know for a fact you didn’t just whistle at me like I am a dog.”

“Look at me then.” You said.

Sunghoon looked back at you, a warm smile on your face.

You tossed the blood bag up to him, Sunghoon catching it.

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?”

All Sunghoon could do was stare at the bag, his tough exterior relaxing.

“Thank you,” was all he could say.

You smiled even brighter, taking another bite out of your apple.

Sunghoon drank the blood as you finished off your apple and drank your water.

“Can I see your work?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sunghoon glared at you again, “Why do you care?”

You sigh, “Because believe it or not, we are kinda stuck with each other, soooo.”

Sunghoon rolled his head, running a hand through his hair.

He knew you were right.

“You won’t put a hex on me if I come down, will ya hex girl?”

You glared at him, “No you idiot!”

Sunghoon smirked, “Sassy much, hex girl?”

“Continue pushing my buttons and you’ll see, bloodsucker.”

This small banter admittedly made Sunghoon happy. You were the first person to get under his skin and make it crawl, but returned every ounce of energy he gave out.

Sunghoon flung himself down from the tree, waving you over.

One by one, Sunghoon showed you all the photos he took this morning.

“These are really beautiful, bloodsucker,” you said, patting his shoulder, “But it’s missing something.”

Sunghoon once again glared at you, “Missing what, exactly?”

You smile, pointing at yourself, “A model!”

Sunghoon furrowed his brows at you, “I don’t need you in my photos hex girl, might put a curse on them.”

You rolled your eyes, “Come on, just snap a few pictures.”

Sunghoon wanted to protest, why should he take photos of his enemy?

But with the way you looked right now, Sunghoon knew with the sunrise and open fields, you would be a perfect fit.

He nodded, “Fine.”

You smiled, skipping away from him.

Sunghoon lifted his camera, snapping a few photos of you skipping.

You stopped and quickly turned around, the biggest smile on your face. Sunghoon snapped that as a photo, his stomach doing flips.

The way your lips curled as you smiled. How the sun brought out the color of your eyes. The way your hair fell and blew in the wind.

Sunghoon stared at the photo. You were so beautiful.

“Hey!” You snapped Sunghoon out of his trance, “Are you going to stare at the camera or tell me how to be a good model?”

Sunghoon smiled, “Just…be you.”

You thought about it, deciding to make a joke, “What if I do Wanda Maximoff poses? Like Scarlet Witch Style?”

Sunghoon blinked at you, “Can you actually do magic like that?”

You glared at him, “No! I’m a witch, not a superhuman.”

Sunghoon glared back, “Well, I didn’t know what all you witches can do!”

“Just think of us witches as hippies, just that we don’t smoke a shit ton of weed.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his hand clenching his shirt from his laughter.

“What is so funny?” You tried to not laugh as well, but his laugh was contagious.

“Just the way you explained witches,” Sunghoon took a deep breath, “I’ve only ever been in contact with witches who use darker magic, you’re the first who doesn’t.”

You studied him and his smile, his natural fangs being present with his smile.

You haven’t seen him smile at all since you met a week ago.

You walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “What are you doing? Get away from me.”

You sighed, “There’s that tough exterior.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, he pulled away, but reached back for him, connecting your palm to his skin.

Sunghoon’s heart was racing at your touch, his jaw locking together.

You breathed in, “You have such a tough exterior, but are so caring and soft underneath it.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo shit on me.”

“Sunghoon.”

It was the first time you actually called him by his name, and oh did it do numbers on him.

He made eye contact with you, and immediately after, you backed away from him.

Sunghoon knew why. There was a spark of electric energy that shot through the both of you, that small string slowly getting tied, but being still loose.

He shook his head, not letting it tighten.

“I’m going back to the house.” Sunghoon quickly turned and walked away, leaving you.

You touched your chest, looking down at the ground.

“What the fuck was that.”

—

Sunghoon spent the rest of the day locked inside his room, flipping through the photos he had taken earlier that morning, stopping at the one of you.

His heartstrings were being pulled. The moment of the string being attached to the both of you came back into his mind.

“I can’t mate with a damn witch, it’s impossible,” he whispered to himself.

But the more he looked at your photo, the more his heart called to you.

He turned the camera off, set it on the bedside table, rolled over, and fell asleep.

He woke up at the sound of footsteps walking down the hall.

Sunghoon stretched, a yawn escaping his lips.

He checked the time off his phone, rolling his eyes at the time.

Sunghoon quickly got out of bed, sliding his sneakers on before walking out of his room, seeing the door to your bedroom was open.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “What the hell is she doing?”

He found you outside by the pond sitting on the ground. Glass bottles filled with herbs sat in front of you, and a small fire was lit to your right.

“It’s three a.m.,” he yawned, “why the hell are you outside at three a.m.”

You turned and smiled at him, “I’m doing witchy things.”

Sunghoon scoffed, “I already figured that, hex girl. I’m asking what exactly you are doing.”

You turned back to the herbs, slowly mixing them together and setting them into the fire.

“Don’t you know the witching hour is three a.m.?”

Sunghoon shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Yes, isn’t that when your powers are at their strongest? Just like us on a new moon.”

“Exactly,” you sang, “My powers are only stronger for an hour, plus the protection barrier I put around the house was fading due to my injuries from the fire. I need to revamp my recovery spell as well, so these scars go away.”

Sunghoon’s heart pulled towards you even more, you were sacrificing so much to protect everyone, to protect him when he does nothing but be an ass towards you.

You stood up, brushing the dirt off your sweatpants, “The barrier on the house has been fixed, so yay!”

Sunghoon nodded.

“But I ran out of herbal recovery leaves, so I need more of that to remove all these burn marks.”

You started to walk away, only for Sunghoon to grab your arm.

You raised a brow at him, noticing how serious his face looked at you, “What?”

Sunghoon walked closer to you, tracing his fingers over the massive pink scar on your face, “You’re beautiful as you are,” his fingers moved over every inch of the scar, before moving down your cheek, his palm cupping your face, “You’re so beautiful, scars and all.”

Your heart raced. He thought you were beautiful? You thought he hated you. But you couldn’t help but feel that tug to him, and notice his energy was matching that tug.

“What is this feeling?” You asked, “This energy that’s flowing between us? It wasn’t there before today.”

Sunghoon reached for your hand with his free hand, his eyes meeting yours, “It’s the string of fate.”

You looked at him confused, “String of fate?”

“When vampires meet their mates, a string of fate ties them together,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, “And I think we might have a string of fate tying around us.”

“Is that another way of saying we are soulmates?” You made a grossed-out face at him, which earned you a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that hex girl, you act like it’s a choice.”

“Is it not?”

Sunghoon shook his head, “Trust me if it was, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Must be spine-chilling knowing your string of fate is probably being tied to a witch.” you teased him.

Sunghoon half smiled, biting his lower lip, “You know for someone who was the head witch of your coven and village, you sure don’t know a lot about vampires.”

You rolled your eyes, finally pushing his hand from your face, “I was only recently appointed as head witch, it’s not something I wanted.”

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, “It’s like Jungwon being our leader, I don’t think he thought he was fit enough.”

“Jungwon is doing fanatic, better than I was.”

“I bet you were fine—“

“If I were fine,” you took a deep breath in, “Then Dorian wouldn’t have found a way to break the barrier over my village and wouldn’t have burnt down to ashes and killed my whole coven.”

Sunghoon pulled you to him, embracing you, “I am so sorry they didn’t get to you in time. The moment Dorian would have been near Jake we would have known, we would have been there in seconds and…”

“And what, bloodsucker?”

“I could have saved you and your coven.”

You looked up at him, “You hate me, hate witches, why do that?”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, pushing your long hair behind your ear, “I would have gone to protect Jake, he’s my best friend after all, but I would have met you sooner, and could have prevented what happened.”

You stepped away from him, tears filling your eyes and not wanting him to see it.

“I couldn’t have stopped what happened, but I can do something now to protect you and my pack.”

You made eye contact with him, once again feeling that string of fate, it pulled your hearts together, you could feel and see the red energy wrap around the two of you, but you could also feel Sunghoon’s heart trying to reject it.

“We can’t be mates, you won’t allow it.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo on me.”

you scoffed, “I’m not using voodoo! I am using my—“

“Just shut up and come over here and kiss me.”

You stared at him, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You chuckled, “What?”

“Y/N,” your heart stopped at hearing how beautifully your name rolled off his tongue, “I am fighting to push out that string of fate. Anytime I’ve thought about who my mate would be, I never once pictured it would be you. Yet here you are in front of me. We are total opposites and two different types of creatures. And if you go back into that house and ignore this fate, then we will continue this back and forth. But if you come over here and kiss me, I swear I’ll be good to you.”

God damn that string of fate and god damn this vampire.

You rushed to him, standing on your tiptoes to reach his lips. His hands found your waist. The red energy of this fate tied you two into a knot. Bonding you as mates.

“Goddammit, hex girl,” he whispered in between kisses.

“Goddamnit, bloodsucker,” you whispered back.

Sunghoon sat against the tree, with you between his legs. Back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you.

You leaned your head against his chin, watching as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon.

“How long were you the head witch?” Sunghoon asked, taking your hands in his.

You sighed, “Only two years, I was next in line but I didn’t want it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Sunghoon was curious. Witches were something totally different than vampires, dhampirs, and even werewolves, their way of life was completely in the opposite direction.

“I didn’t feel as if I was ready,” you leaned more into him, “I don’t have as many years on me as some of the other warlocks and witches in the village.”

“And what time period are you from exactly?” Sunghoon teased.

“I saw the Salem Witch Trials happen.”

“Gosh you’re so old!” he teased you more, planting kisses on your cheek.

“Oh shut up!” you shoved your back into his chest, “I can NOT believe I am stuck with you until the world ends.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart.”

You both laughed and leaned more into each other.

“Can I take a photo of us?” Sunghoon asked, “I want to capture this moment.”

You nodded and he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“No camera?” you teased.

“Phone cameras work just as well.”

You looked into the phone's camera and gasped, “Oh my god! I can see your reflection!”

Sunghoon dropped his arm and rolled his eyes, “Shut up with your stupid ass jokes and take a nice photo with me, hex girl.”

You decided to stop teasing him and smiled into the camera.

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of the two of you, the happiness he felt, he could see it written all over his face.

“You know, I’ve never captured something as beautiful as you.”

You looked up at him, “And I’ve never thought I’d have my own personal photographer to take model photos of me.”

“God you’re so annoying.”

Hand in hand, you followed Sunghoon back to the house.

Everyone was awake and stopped everything they were doing in shock at the sight they were seeing.

“Who would have thought,” Jake teased.

Sunghoon tried hard to fight back his smile, “Shut up.”

Everyone laughed and joked along.

You were happy.

The moment you bonded with Sunghoon, you felt the same bond with the others, including your best friend and the humans in the pack.

It wasn’t like your coven, but the bond was still there. You belonged somewhere again.

You looked up at your mate, his smile working numbers on your heart. God you loved him so much already.

But Sunghoon’s smile faded, and so did the other vampire's smiles.

The room fell silent. The humans and you are both confused, clearly not being able to hear what they are hearing.

“Something isn’t right,” Heeseung said quietly.

“Sunghoon?” you take your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand tightly.

Before Sunghoon could open his mouth to speak, you sensed the other presence.

You dropped your mate's hand, and slowly back away.

You looked at your half-blooded friend, she was already looking at you.

“Dorian...” you whispered, “He broke the protection barrier.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, “Guys what do we do?”

Before any more could be said, you and __ were running towards the door.”

“No no no!!” Sunghoon and Jake both yelled, grabbing ahold of you and her.

“Jake, fucking let go of me!!” she screamed.

You also fought off Sunghoon’s grip on your arm, “Let go of me!” you hissed.

“I am not letting you go out there!” He snapped.

You managed to get out of his hold and were out the door.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon yelled, going after you.

__ released Jake’s grip and was following behind.

Everyone else was right behind.

Dorian stood at the edge of the pond, two women standing at his side, and a black portal opened behind him.

You clenched your fist and you stood in front of him at a distance.

“Dorian!” you hissed.

“I see you survived being burned,” he laughed, “You unfortunately didn’t get the fate as your coven did.”

“How dare you speak of them!” You took a step forward, only to be stopped by Sunghoon getting in front of you.

Sunghoon glared down at Dorian, his rage hitting its peak.

Dorian laughed, “Oh this is too good! Two enemies mated? This pack continues to surprise me.” He glances over at your best friend with Jake also at her side, “Ahh, nice to see you again, __. I also see you’ve mated again.”

“Shut up!” the dhampir snapped, “Don’t you dare bring him up!! You murderer!!”

Dorian’s laughter grew louder the more he made eye contact with each member of the pack.

Jungwon and Jay have death grips on their mates. Their eyes narrowed and their jaws clenched.

“I would love to stay and chat up with you guys, but I only came for two of your mates, and that is all.” Dorian looked at the women at his sides, “Ladies will you do the honors?”

The women both smiled and disappeared.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, those two weren’t like normal vampires.

“He used magic..” you whispered, “He figured out how to read the spells he stole from my coven.”

Dorian’s laughter filled the air and it only made Sunghoon rage even more.

With one blink of an eye, one of the women was at Sunghoon’s side, and then she was gone. She reappeared back at Dorian’s side with you in front of her, a knife pressed against your neck, the sharp edge making a cut, a small stream of blood dripping down.

The other woman reappeared with the dhampir at Dorian’s side.

As if on command, Sunghoon and Jake both rushed forward.

They weren’t thinking clearly. Their brains fogged and only had their sights on their mates.

Heeseung made it in time to grab Sunghoon, pulling him back, and Sunoo for Jake.

“GIVE HER BACK!!” Sunghoon screamed, “FUCKING GIVE HER BACK TO ME.”

“Sunghoon calm down,” Heeseung shouted, “He’s going to kill them both if you take one more step.”

Sunghoon stopped fighting Heeseung, but Sunoo struggled to keep Jake at bay, until Heeseung repeated the same words again, causing Jake to fall to his knees.

“Good,” Dorian said, “Would have been a shame to kill your mates in front of you.”

“What do you want with our pack members!?” Jungwon snapped a low growl leaving his lips when he yelled.

“I have some unfinished business with them,” Dorian stared down at Jungwon’s mate, causing Jungwon to press __ even closer to him, “I have some unfinished business with all of you actually, but Y/N and this dhampir are more important. They have something I need.”

Sunghoon went to take a step, just to be stopped by hearing your whimpers as the knife was pressed harder against your neck.

“Now then,” Dorian turned and faced the portal, “We shall be taking our leave then.”

He stepped through the portal, the women slowly following behind him.

Sunghoon and Jake tried fighting Heeseung and Sunoo again.

Both scream out for their mates.

Sunghoon felt powerless as he watched you disappear through the portal, quickly closing up after you stepped through.

The last thing you saw was the tears that filled Sunghoon’s eyes.

Once you were gone, all Sunghoon could do was fall to his knees, his fingers dug into the dirt as he stared down.

The sounds of Jake’s cries muffled out.

No one ever told Sunghoon how it would feel to have your mate taken from you, to feel the distance of how far they were. The loneliness of them not being at your side.

Sunghoon couldn’t hold in his rage as he let out a yell until his voice was gone and his throat sore.

The last thing Sunghoon remembered was Heeseung pulling him off the ground and dragging him into the house.

—

Everyone sat in silence the next morning.

Jake sat in the corner of the living room, knees to his chest and head on his knees, tuning out the world.

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of you he had taken with his camera. His hands shook.

“Dorian is going to pay.” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I am going to make him pay for the things he’s done and get my mate back.”

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