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soaps-mohawk · 23 hours ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 46: My Girl

Summary: The aftermath of your heat brings about a new dynamic in your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,382 words

Warnings: NSFW, smut, 18+, p in v sex, handjobs, heat cycles, mating cycles, heat sex, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, injuries, blood, slight medical stuff, slight angst, emotions, language

A/N: Yeah, prepare yourselves for this one

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There’s a distinct metallic tang in the air as he’s pulled from the light sleep he’d drifted off into. Exhaustion is pulling at the recesses of his brain, trying to drag him back into the sweet arms of sleep, yet something is keeping him frozen there in the place between rest and wakefulness.

He knows that smell.

His brain feels foggy as he forces his eyes open. He feels almost drunk, his vision blurry, movements slow and brain fighting through the fog to awareness. He shifts his body, but something keeps him from moving too far.

Right. His knot. He’s still stuck inside you.

One arm is tucked under your neck, cradling your head against his bicep. He raises the other, rubbing his face. Clarity begins to return, but he can feel the haze lingering like fog on the horizon. Soon his knot will deflate and his rut will sweep in and take over again and he’ll lose all awareness.

How many days has it been? How much time has passed? How much time is left? He’s desperate to know, but there’s no telling. He gave his phone to Johnny, and you don’t have one. His mouth feels dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He leans over, shifting your body as he reaches for the bottle on the nightstand.

The metallic scent gets stronger as his nose presses against the pillow and he pauses there, hand extended.

He knows that smell.

His eyes flutter open, his body pushing itself up before he can stop it. His arm jerks from beneath you, elbow pressing into the mattress to hold himself up as he stares down in horror.

Blood.

There’s blood staining the white pillowcase.

Fear and panic bubble up inside of him as he stares at the red stains on the fabric. His hand is shaking as it slides around the side of your neck, fingers pressing below your jaw. Your pulse flutters against his fingers, slow and even. Your chest is rising and falling with your breath. You’re fast asleep, not even responding to his sudden movement. Sweat is beading his brow as he shifts his hips, tugging at the knot. You let out a whine, pushing your body back to try and follow him.

He keeps his fingers there, pushed up against your pulse. He waits for it to fade, waits for it to stop, but it keeps pumping steadily against his fingers. Your body is still hot pressed up against him, feverish and coated with sweat, not cold like your corpse would be.

It’s not that bad, he tries to reason with himself. It’s really not that much blood. Not in comparison to what he was expecting. You’re still alive, still breathing. You don’t even seem to have noticed.

He doesn’t want to stare at it anymore. He doesn’t want to see it.

He wraps his arms around you, keeping you pinned close to his chest as he rolls, taking you with him as he faces away from the blood stain. He takes a deep breath, staring at the blood stuck to your skin. It’s dried, an old wound. His stomach twists as he stares at the source, the violent indents torn into your shoulder where his teeth had made their mark.

He doesn’t remember doing it. He’s not sure when he did it. A while ago, he thinks, judging by the lack of fresh blood.

Just how long has it been?

He reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, half drunk and warm but he doesn’t care as he chugs it. He should rouse you, get you to eat and drink something, but he can’t bring himself to pull you out of your slumber yet. You need it. It must be getting close to the end. You’re less responsive, less energetic. You’re burning out. He can tell just by looking at you.

His cock hurts where it sits knotted inside of you. He knows that pain will fade shortly, when his knot finally deflates and another blast of your sickeningly sweet scent floods his brain. You’ll whine and keen, grinding down on him desperately. He’ll lose himself in that scent and fuck you again, ignoring the aches in his body as he gives you exactly what you need. Anything to get you to the end of this hard road where eventually the scent will fade and the neediness will die off and it’ll be back to normal life, like it never happened.

Jesus, how does Price do this?

There’s a release of pressure as his knot starts to deflate, his cock finally going soft inside of you. You let out a quiet whine as he shakes your shoulder, wanting to get some liquid into you before things ramp back up.

“C’mon.” He grunts, easing you onto your back. His cock slips out of your pussy, your body shuddering at the loss.

Hazy eyes stare up at him as he eases you up with his arm. Blood has dried across your chest, streaked by beads of sweat. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you drink, dribbles pouring down either side of your mouth but neither of you care. Just more fluids added to the already damp bed.

A bath is going to be a good idea, he thinks.

He tosses the empty bottle onto the floor and it clacks against another with a hollow sound. He shifts over you, pressing your body into the mattress as your scent starts to sweeten. Your hips lift, pushing against his as he settles his weight over you for a moment. He can feel the hot puffs of your breath against his scraggly face. A week without shaving and he’s already getting scruffy. Your poor thighs must be raw by this point.

A quiet buzzing begins in the back of his head as he breathes you in, pressing his forehead against yours. He lays there for a moment, his cock twitching where it’s trapped against your hip. You’re slick again, legs bending upwards to push against his thigh.

“Easy, girl.” He grunts, wincing as his cock gets caught between his hip bone and yours. “I’ve got ya.”

You’re slick and ready for him as he guides his half hard cock back into you. You let out a sigh of relief, arms lifting to wrap around him. You pull him down with surprising strength. He’s let you lead more times than he should admit, letting you take charge and take what you need from him. You’re fully prepared to do that again, prepared to get what you want whether he participates or not.

He won’t be that cruel. Not this late in the game.

He slowly starts rocking his hips, his cock stiffening inside of your warm, fluttering walls. Slick dribbles out around his cock, sliding down your ass and onto the perpetually wet sheets. The texture might have once driven him insane, but now he doesn’t care. He has bigger things to worry about right now, as his hips begin to move, rocking slowly back and forth as you cling to him.

“I think it’s over.” Johnny says, standing in the doorway.

The harsh scent of sweat, sex, and pheromones is wafting out the door behind him. He’s left it open, standing in the maw of darkness on the other side.

“How’s her temperature?” Dr. Keller asks.

“She’s cold.” Johnny says.

Dr. Keller shares a look with Kyle, both of them rising. “Help him while I get the bath going.” She says, heading for the downstairs bathroom.

Kyle slips into the room, turning on the light. Simon’s got his arms around you so tight he can see the muscles bulging. For a terrifying moment he’s worried he might have suffocated you, but he can see the twitch of your eyelids against the bright light. You let out a quiet whine, Simon shifting behind you.

He approaches the bed slowly, blinking through the haze of humid air and scents in the room. His hand touches your leg, feeling the cool skin beneath his hand. They’d let you sit longer than he might have had you been with Price, unsure whether it was the end or not. It’s been eight days since your symptoms started. They had thought it was the end a couple times, but Johnny came back out declaring a fever still, and shortly after it had started again.

Dr. Keller had assured them time and time again a week was only an average estimate. Some heats lasted longer, some shorter. It depended on a lot of things.

Kyle had just been busy eyeing the dwindling supplies while the hours continued to pass.

They babysat in shifts, taking turns sleeping every few hours. Kyle hadn’t been able to rest much, even though now he had the chance to. His brain was still on high alert, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. He’s exhausted and he didn’t even participate this time.

His hand trails up the cool skin of your thigh, gently parting them to check. No knot, but Simon is still half inside of you. He lowers your thigh gently before taking another step, his hand touching Simon’s arm gently.

“Simon, mate, come on. It’s over.”

Simon lets out a grunt, squeezing his arms around you until you let out a quiet squeak before he loosens them.

“Let’s get you in a bath. You’ll feel better.”

Simon mumbles sleepily, but lets Kyle slowly ease him away from you. Johnny takes his other side as they get the alpha on his feet.

“I got ‘im.” Johnny grunts, taking Simon’s weight as he leads the half out of it alpha out of the room and across to the bathroom.

Kyle focuses his attention on you. You’ve started shivering from the loss of Simon’s warmth, your body curling up in on itself. “I know.” Kyle says quietly. “We’ll get you in that bath shortly.”

He drapes a clean blanket over you, wanting to keep you warm while he waits for Simon to get settled. He brushes damp strands of hair from your face. It’s come almost completely out of the braid, and he can imagine Simon sinking his fingers into the soft strands, pinning you down onto the mattress. He’d worried for a while that Simon might not have that instinct to make sure you could breathe, that he wouldn’t know to check to make sure he wasn’t suffocating you.

“He’s settled!” Johnny calls from the living room and Kyle slips his arms under you.

You let out a whine of protest at the sudden movement as Kyle lifts you into his arms. He shushes you gently, letting the blanket drop to the floor before carrying you over to the bathroom. It’s steamy in the small space, Johnny hovering in the doorway as Kyle gently eases you into the water with Simon. It rises precariously high, but he tries not to think about that as he lets you drop back against Simon’s chest.

“You sit in here with them, I’ll change the sheets and get the bed ready.” Kyle says to Johnny before leaving the warm bathroom.

The sheets.

He tries not to think about it as he grabs a bin bag from the kitchen. The sheets were new, bought specifically for this in case they needed to be thrown out after. He’s glad they got a new set as he stares down at the damp white fabric. He tries not to look too hard, tries not to stare at the stain up near the pillows. He’s glad they got more of those too.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he strips the fitted sheet, stuffing it in the bag immediately with the plastic protector. He doesn’t bother removing the pillow case, instead shoving the entire pillow in the bag before pulling the drawstring closed. The sooner he can get it out of sight, the sooner he can forget about it.

He makes the bed with clean sheets, putting the comforter back on in preparation to keep you warm. He adds new pillows and a few of your stuffed animals for comfort, arranging them in a way he thinks you might be satisfied with.

Maybe it will drive you to finally nest.

Johnny sits on the closed toilet lid, staring at the water just kissing the lip of the tub. Simon’s knees are bent, forced up by the small size of the tub. He doesn’t offer any complaint, doesn’t offer much at all except the quiet rumbling in his chest. His nose is buried in your hair, his breathing slow and even as he sits there in the warm water.

Despite the steam in the air, you’re shivering.

He swears he can almost hear your teeth chattering as you sit there in the nearly too warm water. It’s normal, Kyle had told him. Just your body responding to the sudden change in temperature.

He tries not to stare too long, especially at your shoulder. There’s still blood streaked on your skin. He should grab a rag and wash it off, but he’s scared to ruin the quiet moment between you and Simon.

It’s the quietest the house has been in eight days.

“Simon?” Johnny whispers, shifting in his seat.

The alpha grunts, cracking his eyes open.

“Ye want a drink or somethin’?” Johnny is starting to feel a bit restless. “Or a rag tae wash yerself with?”

Simon grunts again, finally lifting his face from the top of your head. “Rag would be nice.” He mumbles.

Johnny nods, quickly searching through the cupboards before finding a stack of wash cloths. He grabs two just in case, passing one to Simon. He watches his alpha dip it into the water, getting it wet before he starts to run it over your skin. You’re still shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

He traces the path of Simon’s hand as it gently smooths over your skin in an attempt to clean some of the grime off. You’ll need a proper bath once you’ve settled, a process that will take a couple days at least. He remembers crawling into your nest with you after your last heat with Price, holding you while you slept. He’d needed rest himself after keeping Simon pacified for a week. He remembers the ache in his body after that and can only imagine how Simon is feeling right now.

Johnny nearly jumps out of his skin as you let out a yelp, water splashing over the edge of the tub as your body jolts. Simon’s hand is on your shoulder, holding the rag against the raw skin. He imagines you might have jumped right out of the tub had it not been for Simon’s arm around you. He’s whispering quietly to you as your lip begins to tremble, a quiet sob leaving your lips. It tugs at Johnny’s heart as he watches you, big, fat tears starting to leak out from beneath your lashes.

Kyle had warned him about that too.

Simon takes the other rag from him, wiping your face and hair before maneuvering you so he can wipe himself down quickly. Johnny sticks his fingers into the water, feeling the temperature.

“Gettin’ cold.” He murmurs, debating pulling the plug and refilling it.

“Everything okay?” Kyle appears in the doorway, likely having heard your yelp.

“Wiped down the wound.” Johnny says, glancing up at his fellow beta. “Water’s gettin’ cold.”

“Then we should get them back in bed. It’s ready for them.” Kyle says, grabbing one of the towels from the counter. “Get Simon up and I’ll help dry him off.”

Johnny pulls the plug in the tub before slipping his arms under Simon’s as the alpha struggles to get his feet under him. Your body slumps forward and he’s glad Kyle is there as he quickly shifts to keep you upright in the water. The tears are still sliding down your cheeks, quiet sniffling sobs wracking your body almost as badly as the shivers.

Kyle helps Simon dry before leading him from the room, taking him back to yours. Johnny eases you up out of the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around you to keep you from the cold.

“Easy, kitten.” He shushes you at your whine in protest as he quickly dries you off before lifting you out of the tub.

He heads back across the living room to your room, the overhead light still on. He can’t imagine what it’s like for an alpha doing this alone. How many omegas don’t get the treatment they deserve because of their alpha being alone? How many don’t get it because of their alpha?

He tries not to think too hard about it.

Simon is resting against the headboard when he enters the room, legs spread and ready for you to be deposited back into his arms. He’s still naked, something Johnny is proud of. How far Simon has come in just a couple of weeks. From barely showing any skin, much less his face, to walking around naked. Not that Simon really seems to care much right now. He can only imagine how much pain Simon must be in and just how exhausted he has to be. He looks ready to sleep for the rest of the night.

Johnny eases you onto the bed, setting you between his legs. He pulls the towel from around you, Kyle there ready to tuck the covers up over you as soon as he gets the damp fabric away. Your face is still wet with tears as Kyle steps away, Simon’s arms wrapping around you again. You relax limply against the alpha, pain and exhaustion wearing on you as well.

“It’s hard to watch.” He says, his heartstrings tugging as he stares at the two of you.

“It’s just a natural response.” Kyle says, reaching up to wipe a tear sliding down your cheek. “They’re both tired and being dragged through the sudden change in chemicals in their brains.”

“Knock, knock.” Christine says, leaning into the doorway. “Got them settled?”

“Yeah.” Kyle says, adding another blanket to the pile on top of you to try and regulate your temperature again.

She stands there for a few moments, waiting as Simon turns to glance at her. She doesn’t move, waiting for a reaction from him before taking a step into the room.

She approaches the bed slowly, Simon watching her cautiously but he offers no protest to her getting closer. Johnny can only imagine what’s going on in his head right now. “I just want to check a couple of things.” She says, setting the first aid kit down on the end of the bed.

Simon’s eyes are still on her as she takes a couple steps closer, moving slowly.

“Hi, honey.” She says softly, addressing you as she pulls out the thermometer. “Just want to take your temperature, make sure everything is back to normal.” She presses the thermometer against your forehead. It beeps a few seconds later, Simon’s arms tightening around you for a moment before they relax. “Normal. That’s good.” She says, setting the thermometer down before sliding the first aid kit closer. “I need to look at your shoulder.”

Neither of you move as she stands there for a moment, testing the waters before lifting her hand towards you. Simon doesn’t move, his eyes focused on her hand as it touches you, gently easing your head to the side and the covers down lower.

“You did take a chunk out.” She says, brushing your hair to the side to look at the wound. “I need to clean it.”

She pulls away from you to open the first aid kit, grabbing the antiseptic and some gauze. She pours some of it on the fabric before turning to you again.

Things happen fast, but to Johnny they seem to take a lifetime. Dr. Keller presses the gauze against your shoulder and you let out a yelp similar to the one you let out in the bath. Your body jerks, trying to move away but you’re too stuck under the blankets to move much. Johnny instinctively shifts forward, Kyle moving too before either of them realize it, converging on the bed.

Simon lets out a growl, baring his teeth as his hand darts out faster than they can see to grip Dr. Keller’s wrist so tight Johnny can see his knuckles go white. She holds out her other hand, staying the two betas as she keeps her gaze locked on Simon’s.

“I’m not trying to hurt her.” She says softly, holding eye contact with the protective alpha. “I have to get this wound clean, otherwise it’s going to get infected.”

There’s a tense moment of silence in the room, none of them even breathing as they wait. Simon could easily break Dr. Keller’s wrist. He’s strong enough, in a good enough position to do it. The doctor is fearless as she stares at him, facing him head on in a way that almost reminds Johnny of you. He and Kyle are frozen, halfway to the bed to intervene if they have to.

The tension eases as Simon slowly releases Christine’s wrist. His arm tucks itself back around you, holding you tightly against him, the growl rumbling in his chest quieting. Slowly Dr. Keller moves again, pressing the gauze against your shoulder. Simon holds you still as she cleans the wound, all of them trying to ignore your whines and whimpers of pain.

Dr. Keller dresses the wound before grabbing the first aid kit. “Get some rest.” She says. “You need it.”

Johnny and Kyle pass one last look at the pair in the bed before following her from the room. Kyle turns off the lights, leaving the door ajar just in case.

“That was fucking close.” Johnny lets out a deep breath.

“Territorial alphas aren’t new to me.” Dr. Keller says with a shrug. “He’s just doing what his instincts are telling him and protecting his omega. He’s still sensitive to them and will be for a while.” She lets out a huffing laugh. “I’m surprised he let me close at all.”

“John didn’t react that way.” Kyle says.

“Simon’s never been through a heat before. This is entirely new territory for him. His alpha isn’t sure how to respond right now, especially to someone outside the pack.” Dr. Keller explains.

“Yer hardly an outsider now.” Johnny says.

“Honorary, perhaps, but in the literal sense I’m an outsider.” She says. “We’ll have to be careful for a while around him. No doubt he’s going through it just as much as she is.”

“Thank ye,” Johnny says, grateful for the doctor over the last week. She’s been keeping them sane. “For everythin’. Fer caring.”

“Of course.” Christine smiles softly at him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

“Johnny.”

The beta turns his head, squinting slightly at Simon in the dim light of the room. He’d left the overhead light off to avoid waking either of you. It’s cloudy out and the curtains are drawn, leaving nothing but dim, grey light to see by.

“Hey.” He grins down at Simon, the alpha blinking up at him blearily. “Welcome back.”

Simon grunts, adjusting his body where he lays on his side. You’re bundled against his chest, quiet snores breaking the quiet in the room.

“Can I get ye anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to the bed. He’d been replacing the bottle of water with a cold one.

“A pint and a cigarette.” Simon grumbles.

Johnny grins. “I can get ye a beer out of the fridge, but you’ll have tae wait on the smoke.”

Simon grumbles something as he presses his cheek against the top of your head. He unburies his hand from the blankets, reaching out for Johnny. It’s warm as Johnny takes it, letting his fingers brush Simon’s rough palm.

“You’re a good lad, Johnny.” Simon says softly, squeezing the beta’s hand. “Wouldn’t have made it far without ya.”

“You’re a good alpha.” Johnny says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Simon hums, stilling as you shift against him. He tugs gently on Johnny’s hand, trying to pull him onto the bed.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’,” Johnny says, kicking off his slippers before lifting the sheets.

It’s warm under the blankets and for a moment Johnny wishes he would have ditched the sweatpants too. He saddles up close behind you, feeling the warmth of your body radiating against his chest. You’re still naked, and so is Simon as he brushes his hand against Simon’s hip.

“Pretty boy.” Simon hums, wrapping his arm around Johnny and pulling him closer. “Such a good beta f’me and my girl.”

Johnny’s brain starts to buzz happily at his alpha’s praise, his beta nearly preening inside his head. He did a good job, he took good care of his alpha and his omega. You’re both alive and well and breathing.

You let out a quiet hum as Johnny presses up against your back, sandwiching you between him and Simon. It feels right, having you there between them. Things have shifted now that Simon has claimed you as well. He wonders if Kyle felt this way after John claimed you. There’s a deeper intensity to your bond, or perhaps that was because of your heat. He was given the opportunity to assist during such a vulnerable, intimate time and bear witness to something so beautiful and primal.

Perhaps it’s both.

“You’re thinking too much.” Simon grumbles, running a hand over Johnny’s head before it wraps around you both, pulling you both impossibly close.

Johnny snuggles down into the blankets, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment.

You’re sweating.

It’s hot where you are, trapped between two bodies under a mountain of blankets. For a moment you thought you were having an unusual moment of clarity during your heat, but you remember that’s over. It’s been over for almost a day. It’s dark in the room, only the warm glow of the nightlight keeping the darkness at bay.

You push back against the body behind you but it’s solid, draped in place against your back. You need to get out, free yourself from the suffocating heat.

You manage to get yourself seated upright between Simon and Johnny, shoving the blankets down towards the end of the bed.

“What’re ye doing?” Johnny mumbles sleepily.

“’S too hot.” You murmur, wincing as you shift. There’s a steady ache between your thighs and you feel raw and sore.

“Go back to sleep.” Simon grunts, grabbing the blankets before pulling them up again, rolling so his back is to you.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, grimacing at the grimy feel of your skin.

“Ye doin’ okay?” Johnny asks, pushing himself up to sit.

“Will you help me shower?” You ask quietly, trying not to disturb Simon again. You doubt he’d be so nice a second time. He has to be as tired as you are, but you’re too aware of how gross you feel to think about going back to sleep yet.

“’Course, kitten.” He says, sliding off the bed to stand. He’s in sweatpants, and you don’t know how he isn’t dying of heatstroke. “C’mere.” he holds his arms out and you shuffle over, hiding the pain from the jolting movements.

He slips his arms under you before lifting you easily, carrying you to the en-suite.

He sits you down on the toilet seat as he starts the shower. Your body aches, deep in your muscles and joints. You probably should bathe so you can sit, but the idea of pressure anywhere near the place between your thighs has you wincing at the thought.

Johnny holds his hand under the stream until he’s satisfied with the temperature, turning back to you. You stare up at him, his hair starting to get shaggy again. His mohawk has gotten longer, the hair starting to droop and stick to his forehead.

“Will you help me?” You ask, blinking up at him.

He blinks back before a grin forms on his face. “Sure thing, kitten.”

He seems all to eager to drop his sweatpants and strip off his shirt, revealing soft muscle underneath. He’s lost some of the definition. They all have after being away from the harsh requirements of the military for months now. You wonder how long it will take to get it back, how hard they’ll have to work to get themselves back into the state they were when you met them for the first time. Hardened soldiers dedicated to the machine that is the military.

You know they’re never going to give it up. You’ve surrendered to that fact.

Johnny helps you to your feet, letting you move slowly on shaky legs towards the shower. You definitely should have gone for a bath but you’re determined as you step under the warm spray.

It’s like heaven, gliding over your skin, relaxing tense muscles. Johnny closes the door as he steps in next to you, his hands sliding to your hips to help hold you up as you bask in the water flowing over you. You stand there for a few moments, already feeling better just having water washing away the grime of a week being covered repeatedly in body fluids.

It’s gross, when you think about it. You try not to think too much.

Johnny’s hands leave your hips as he grabs your soap, squirting some onto his hand before starting to lather it over your skin. You lean back against him, letting him wash you. His hands rub over your stomach and up under your breasts. They’re sore, your nipples raw. Whether that’s from friction or Simon you’re unsure. Maybe both.

Johnny is gentle as he washes you, gentler than you might have been doing it yourself, but you’re touched nonetheless. He peppers soft kisses against your shoulders and the top of your head as he works shampoo through your hair. You hum quietly as he massages your scalp, even that sore after Simon’s rough handling.

He took good care of you, though. You can hardly complain about a few aches and pains.

A lot of aches and pains.

You press back against Johnny, feeling something poking you in the ass and you roll your eyes. “Can’t help it, can you?” You ask.

“Yer so fuckin’ beautiful.” Johnny murmurs, wrapping his arms around you. “Ye have no idea what it was like seein’ ye like that.”

Cock drunk and completely ignorant of the world? “I can only imagine.” You say. “Did you…”

“No.” He says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Didnae have time, worryin’ about ye. ‘Bout killed me.”

You smirk. “I bet.”

While the idea of sticking anything inside of your body is less than pleasant, you know you can at least do something for him. He deserves it after taking such good care of you and Simon, after all.

You turn in his arms, sliding your hand down your stomach. He stares down at you as you wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing gently. He’s hard and almost throbbing in your hand. You can only imagine the torture he had to endure, listening to you and Simon fuck for a week straight. You’re surprised he didn’t join.

You stare up into his eyes as you begin to move your hand, stroking his cock. His eyes are so blue, almost hypnotic as you find yourself getting lost in his gaze. You wrap an arm around his waist, leaning against him to hold yourself up as you jerk him off, twisting your hand across the sensitive length. His arm wraps around your back, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He squeezes gently and you ignore the ache from his fingers pressing into the sore skin. No doubt you have bruises there from Simon’s hands.

Johnny moans quietly, his face pressing into your hair as you continue to stroke his cock. His chest is heaving with his breath, his other hand rising to rest against the shower wall. His muscles flex and relax, his entire body trembling. You can only imagine how sensitive he is after a week of having to listen to you fuck his alpha.

“You gonna cum?” You ask, staring up at him as you quicken your pace, squeezing your hand gently around him. “You gonna cum for me?”

He lets out almost a whine as his hips buck into your hand. “Fuck, yes!” He moans, his cock twitching in your hand.

You drag your thumb across his tip, teasing the rim of his cock before you start stroking his length again, moving your hand as fast as you can. He presses his face into the top of your head, his body shuddering as he spurts his cum all over your hand. You continue to stroke him, working him through his orgasm.

“Fucking christ.” He breathes, wrapping both of his arms around you. You’re grateful for it as your legs ache from standing for so long. “So fucking good to me.” He kisses the top of your head. “We don’t deserve you, ye know that?”

You pull back to stare up at him, the water starting to go cold. There’s such love and conviction in his gaze it almost knocks the breath from your lungs. You think over his words, the admission coming out of seemingly nowhere, brought on in a moment of passion.

“It’s true.” Johnny says, turning off the water, his arm still wrapped around you. “Ye deserve better than us.”

“Where is this coming from?” You ask as he helps you out of the shower, drying you off gently with a towel. Your legs are starting to shake from exhaustion and you’re ready to crawl back into bed with Simon.

“Just been thinkin’ about it recently.” He says, wrapping the towel around you. “What with John runnin’ off and thinkin’ about what’s gonnae happen next.”

You swallow nervously as he carries you back to the bed. “What do you think is going to happen next?” You say as he runs the towel over your hair to try and squeeze as much water out as possible.

He’s silent for a few moments, the nerves continuing to twist in your stomach. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been thinking about it as well. The eight days of your heat was a relief from having to worry about anything other than getting fucked and bred.

“I don’t know.” He answers after a moment, fiddling with the towel in his hands.

His answer doesn’t offer you any comfort.

Simon has a dark look on his face as you hold his gaze in the mirror.

“It’s gonna be a nasty scar.” He grumbles, his eyes dropping to your shoulder. The wound has started to scab over, some bits of it already turning white and scarring. It’s rough and ragged compared to the clean, even bite on the other side. It’s a perfect mirror of your two alphas, you think. Simon rough and ragged around the edges while John is firm and steady.

“I don’t know, I kind of like it.” You say, running your fingers over the sore skin before rubbing more Vaseline over it to keep it moist. “It’s your mark.” He winces, turning away from the mirror. “You’re regretting it.” You say, turning around to watch him as he leaves the bathroom.

“No, it’s just...it was a stir of the moment move.” He says, dropping himself to sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Would have liked to discuss it more before doin’ it.”

“Well I don’t regret it.” You say, approaching him. “I like that you did it. I like the idea of being claimed by you.”

He snorts, focused on the floor instead of you. It’s strange, seeing him become so vulnerable in front of you. There was a time he would have never let you so close, and now he’s sitting in front of you without a mask, both literally and metaphorically.

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, lifting his hands to your face as you come to stand between his knees. “You shouldn’t regret it.” You say softly, his dark eyes finally turning up to your face. “I would have asked you to do it eventually. You just saved me from having to broach an awkward conversation.”

“It wouldn’t have been awkward.” He mumbles.

“It so would have been.” You grin. “You would have made it weird.”

“Little shit.” He breathes, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

You hold his left hand in the air, trailing your fingers over his tattoos. You pause when you spot something that you’ve never seen before. You sit yourself down on his knee, studying the new mark. “Simon...what is this?” You ask, trailing your fingers around the oval shaped tattoo. “Is it...a bite mark?”

“Yours.” He says simply, shrugging when you turn to look at him.

“When did I bite you?” You ask.

“Right before I scruffed you.” He explains. “Sunk your teeth right in. I’ve got tattoos for the others, thought it was a perfect addition.”

“You tattooed my bite mark on your skin?” You blink, turning your gaze back to the tattoo. “Out of all the things you could have tattooed, you chose my bite mark?”

“It’s a reminder that I’m not as destructive as I like to think.” He says. “That maybe I can do some good for my pack.”

You blink back tears as you stare up into those chocolate brown eyes. “That’s so sweet.”

“It’s also a reminder of just how feisty you are, you little shit.” He says, squeezing his arms tight around you and flopping back on the bed.

You giggle as you’re pulled with him, winding up laying on his chest. You smile as you stare down at him, trailing your fingers over his handsome face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you for what you did.”

“You lived. That’s thanks enough.” He says, brushing his fingers over your face.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Someone’s feeling sappy this morning.”

He rolls his eyes, flipping you over so he’s hovering over you. “Someone else is feeling annoying today.”

“I only do it cause I love you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smirks. “You love me?”

“Course I do.” You say, pulling him down for another kiss.

“Good.” He murmurs against your lips before pulling away, pushing himself up to stand.

He stares down at you as you lay there, running your tongue across your lips to savor every last bit of his taste on your skin.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groans, adjusting his pants.

You smirk, pushing yourself up to sit, staring at the bulge starting to form at the front of his jeans. You flick your gaze up to his eyes, staring at him from under your lashes. You’re still nowhere near ready for a good fuck after your heat, still sore and bruised. You doubt he’d be ready either. He has to be sore too after popping a knot constantly over the course of eight days.

Yet you can feel the bulge of his hardening cock as you push yourself up to stand, your chest pressed against his. You stand there for a long moment, staring up at him before a small smirk forms on your face. “It’s time for breakfast.”

You slip past him, heading for the door.

“You little shit.”

Five days have passed since your heat when you hear the crunching of gravel under tires outside. You glance up from your book, Simon looking up from his. Your omega shifts in the back of your mind, responding to his alpha as he’s suddenly on high alert. He marks his place in the book, your eyes following him as he pushes himself up to stand, moving towards the small window facing the front of the cottage.

You watch nervously as he glances out the window, his shoulders tense, body on high alert. Kyle has risen from his seat at the table, picking up on the alpha’s sudden shift in mood. Both of you watch him, his scent intensifying for a moment before his shoulders drop, his body relaxing.

He moves to the door, you and Kyle sharing a look as he pulls it open. “You could have told us you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You’re on your feet at the sound of the voice, moving around the back of the couch. You pause there, waiting with bated breath as the figure appears in the doorway, patting Simon’s arm.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Been a couple weeks.” Simon says.

“Only a couple.” John says as he steps past Simon into the house.

Tears gather in your eyes as you stare at him, his gaze immediately landing on you. Both of you just stand there, John waiting for you to move while you decide what you want to do. Part of you wants to walk up and smack him, berate him for leaving you like that. Another part of you wants to stomp away angrily and lock yourself in your room to punish him.

You take a few steps forward, approaching your alpha slowly. He doesn’t move, standing still as you come right up to him. His gaze holds yours as you stand there for a moment before throwing your arms around him. He grunts slightly as you collide with him, squeezing your arms around him as tightly as you can. His arms wrap around you, holding you just as tightly against him.

“I missed you.” You whisper, a few stray tears leaking out of your eyes.

“I know.” He says quietly, pressing his nose into the top of your head. “I missed you too.”

His scent washes over you, the fresh scent of petrichor, the deep earthy forest. Your omega purrs happily, the sound rumbling through your chest as you hold him close. He doesn’t let you go either, keeping his arms around you tight. He breathes in your scent, his warm breath fanning over the top of your head. You don’t care that you’re still a bit sore and bruised, you don’t care that you want to scream at him and tell him off for leaving you for so long. You don’t care about much except for the fact he’s here. He’s back.

You never want him to leave again.

Slowly you unravel yourself from him, his hands rising to cup your face. His thumbs are rough as they wipe away your tears, cupping your face gently. You sniffle as you stare up into his blue eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. He’s back. He’s here with you again. The relief flushes out the anger. You’ll get mad at him later. Right now you just want to bury yourself in him and never let go.

He smiles down at you, running a hand over your hair. “Did they take good care of you?” He asks.

You nod. “Really good care.”

His eyes flutter to your shoulder, and suddenly a new set of nerves has started twisting in your stomach. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that Simon marked you. What is he going to think? Will he get territorial? Will he be upset? Will he blame you for letting it happen? What if he kicks Simon out of the pack for claiming his omega as well?

His fingers brush over the quickly healing wound, only a few scabs still lingering from where Simon’s teeth dug in deep. “I see Simon took good care of you too.”

You swallow nervously, nodding. “He did.”

John stares down at the mark for a tense moment before a smile forms on his face. “Good.”

A bit of tension leaves your shoulders at his seeming relief that you were well taken care of. He doesn’t seem angry or upset or even disappointed that Simon marked you as well.

He steps back away from you and you feel a body appear behind you. You turn your head, staring up at Kyle but his eyes are on John. You step out from between them, watching them carefully. Kyle must share some of the same feelings as you. Relief, anger, disappointment. For a moment you think he might be the one to tell John off, throw a punch, but instead his hands cup John’s face and he leans forward to kiss him.

You watch with wide eyes as Kyle kisses John, dragging his body as close as he can. He’s had to miss John as much as you have, if not more. You regret not spending more time with him, discussing your missing alpha, taking comfort in each other. Then again, it’s been a long couple of weeks.

Kyle pulls away from John, still holding his face in his hands. “Don’t ever do that again.”

John smiles softly at his beta. “I don’t plan on it.”

They both turn to look at you, John holding an arm out to you. You step forward into their embrace, both of them wrapping their arms around you, pulling you in close. You breathe in the mixed scents, a tension you didn’t know you were carrying starting to relax in the back of your mind. Your omega purrs happily, the sound rumbling through your chest as well.

Simon stares up at your ceiling, tracing the lines of the shadows cast by your nightlight. He can’t sleep, his mind reeling. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous at John’s return. A lot happened while he was gone, and he hadn’t even considered what John’s reaction would be when he discovered the mark on your other shoulder. Anger, disappointment? He expected the worst, but he hadn’t expected such an...almost relieved reaction.

The door handle turns, Simon’s body tensing. He’s alert, staring at the void of darkness opening up as the door pushes open. You shift against his chest, sensing the change in him even in your sleep. He holds his breath, listening, waiting for any indication of who is creeping in, in the middle of the night.

The tension eases, oxygen filling his lungs as John appears in the doorway, slipping in before closing it again.

“Thought you’d be asleep.” He rumbles quietly.

“Can’t.” Simon whispers.

John hums, moving over to the side of the bed. He reaches over, running a hand over your hair. “It’ll never cease to amaze me how easily omegas sleep.”

“Pretty sure she’d sleep through a bomb if she were tired enough.” Simon says.

John chuckles quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

Simon nods, his thumb brushing your arm. “You asked me to.”

“But you still did it.” John says, staring at his fellow alpha with a pointed look. “You could have said no.”

Simon shrugs. “Figured it was time.” He leans his chin on top of your head. “After all we’ve been through.”

John hums again, trailing his fingers across your back. “Didn’t expect you to claim her too.”

“Didn’t plan on that.” He says honestly. “Was a heat of the moment thing.”

“I’m not mad.” John says. “I’m glad you did it. That was always the plan. If something would have happened to me…”

“But it didn’t.” Simon interrupts him.

“And it won’t.” John says, toeing off his shoes before shifting on the bed to lay behind you.

“He’s really gone?” Simon asks after a moment of silence.

“You saw the pictures.” John says. “It’s what he deserved.”

Simon hums quietly, shifting onto his side. You stir against his chest before settling again, a quiet snore leaving your lips. “Where do we go from here?”

“That’s a worry for tomorrow.” John says. “It’s too late for those kinds of thoughts.” He reaches over, running his fingers across Simon’s cheek. “Get some rest.”

“Easier said than done.” Simon says, fighting a yawn.

John smiles softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon’s eyes flutter closed, his grip around you starting to relax as the comforting energy of his fellow alpha eases away the thoughts in his head until only silence remains.

You’re sitting on the couch again when the sound of gravel crunching under tires reaches your ears again. You look up from your book, sharing a look with Johnny whose gaze has been drawn up from his sketch pad. He’s not expecting this either, apparently. He’s immediately on edge, his body tensing as he sits up straighter, dropping the sketch pad on the coffee table.

Both of you turn to look at John as he comes down the stairs, looking far too relaxed for the situation. Someone unknown has arrived to place that’s supposed to be secure. Shepherd is dead, you know that. You trust John’s word, but there was still the threat of those with orders lingering in the shadows, those who the news hasn’t reached yet.

“They’re early.” John says, moving towards you. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

You stare at his hand as he holds it out to you. You hate surprises. He knows that, yet he continues to spring them on you. You hesitate but take his hand, letting him pull you up off the couch and to the door. He opens it, letting in a blast of cold air. You’re not dressed to be outside.

You step out onto the porch, staring at the car that’s pulled up. The doors open and you recognize Kate getting out of the driver’s side. It’s an unexpected sight. You haven’t seen her since you killed Phil.

The passenger side door opens and your gaze is drawn there. Another woman climbs out of the car, the back door opening and a man steps out. You stare at them for a moment, your breath leaving your lungs as the woman turns around. You almost don’t recognize her. It’s been a few years, far too many years.

Tears blur your vision, morphing her into nothing but a blurry figure but you know. Deep down you know.

“Mom?”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse

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quarterlifekitty · 10 hours ago

Text

Thinking about Simon’s girl who sniffed his neglected, insecure, traumatized ass out like a bloodhound and dug in

You remind him a lot of price. Always trying to take in strays, always stubbornly trying to succeed in the jobs where others failed. It just took one look at his apartment when he opened the door— you’d brought a misdelivered package to him— and you locked in.

Suddenly all your meals somehow had doubled portions. Must’ve misread the recipe. You’re accidentally buying little things, not realizing you already had one squirreled away. Any god— once he steps foot in your apartment?

Call that man Sam Puckett the way he’s always at your place and almost forgetting he has his own place he could go to. He can’t help it— you have a full couch with lots of pillows and a knit blanket. The place always smells of something— fresh baking, stir fry, candles, fresh farmer’s market produce. He puts on a little more weight. Stop buying caloriemate. Hair is a little shinier (he’s using your products in the shower, let’s be real). He hasn’t been burned in ages (you always keep sunscreen with you and insist on applying it to his pale skin).

As a child, he knew the burden that he was. Even as his mother loved him, she couldn’t hide every sigh and slump of the shoulders as she damned near went hungry some nights trying to keep him alive while his father’s pay went straight to his tab. It never left him. But you ignore any and all of his attempts to be low maintainence, to take up less resources— you want every rich taste and pleasure of the world that you know to be his as well. And you’re so happy when he lets you give.

It’s never forceful. Just kind. “Try this, honey— I think you’ll like it,” holding a forkful towards him. He forgets to even start asking you out— your relationship blurs so quickly from all the domesticity. You can only ply someone deprived with love for so long before they want to kiss you every day forever. Before he knows it he’s about to meet your fucking parents, palms sweating as he tries to remember how this all came to be— this whirlwind you’ve swept him up in.

But where he expects a shovel talk, he finds none. They reveal, amused, that it’s always been this way with you. Your childhood home was like a clubhouse. None of your friends had stable lives growing up— you just gravitated towards them and wanted them to have everything that you had. Suddenly the way you so speedily co-opted him makes sense. And they’re not the least bit wary of the man with the dark, leering gaze that’s covered in scars and built like a brick shithouse. Because they know your eyes are better than a jewelers lens when it comes to evaluating quality.

That night he keeps excusing himself to the bathroom to try to hold back the tears and collect himself because all of the sudden he knows what a home and a family are supposed to look like, and you all want him to be a part of it. You didn’t take him to meet your parents because you wanted to see that they approved of him— you took him because you wanted to show off how proud you were of your latest find. A fleck of gold among grains of sand. A piece of sea glass, once a sharp, discarded thing now tumbled smooth and kept in your pocket.

Simon likes feeling kept.

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost Riley #ghost x reader

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 days ago

Text

Something More

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.

“What are you still doing here?”

Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick.

So why were you still here?

You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you.

“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”

Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”

You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”

Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm.

“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah…yeah, probably.”

Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does.”

You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again.

“No, it-”

“It does because you never hide anything from me.”

“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you.

“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”

It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”

He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed.

“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.”

Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you.

“What are you-”

With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?”

Bucky nodded.

“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually…a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”

“Y/n-”

“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”

“What?”

You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table.

You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”

You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”

“Six months?!”

“Just…sit down? Please?”

It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him.

“How can you be okay?”

You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”

“How?”

“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”

Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.”

Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”

You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that…it was worth its weight in gold.

You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something…more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just…

Something More.

Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”

But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat.

You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one.

“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”

Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”

You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions.

You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound.

You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually.

Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.

Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party.

You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt.

It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months.

“Did you buy a renovation?”

You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”

“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you.

“Okay.”

The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it.

You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it – all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed.

The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around.

Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months.

You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint…

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack.

Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work.

“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”

“Stay in your tape.”

After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones.

“Left a bit, left a bit.”

“We need to go right.”

“No, we need to go left.”

Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”

“Two hours. I have tried.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside.

“Right, right. Now go up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up?”

“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”

Sam just started at Bucky.

“Oh, for the love of-”

As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge.

Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done.

You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”

“Where are you getting it from?”

After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”

Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him.

“Why?”

“Because you stink.”

You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you.

Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo.

And then Bucky walked up the stairs.

As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name.

“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”

“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”

“Really? Okay.”

Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet.

However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky.

Naked Bucky.

His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him.

But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room.

You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant.

The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind.

It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-

“Hey, two pep- Matthew.”

What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex.

“What the fuck?”

“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Please!”

His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”

“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”

“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”

Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t.

“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”

“Please leave.”

“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”

In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you.

Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime.

The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you.

“Holy-”

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”

“Oh, really?”

You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants.

“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”

“You’re not worthy of shit.”

Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”

“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked.

Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best.

It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”

A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew.

The pizza guy.

“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”

You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone.

“Thanks.”

“I hope you resolve…whatever this is. Bye.”

Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address.

Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”

“But she still loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might.

He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided.

“She does.”

You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”

Bucky just smirked.

“B-but what about our life together?”

“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”

As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out.

“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”

Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward.

“And what if I am?”

Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed.

“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added.

“But-”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day.

Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist.

Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome.

“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes.

“Thanks.”

Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body.

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away.

“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”

“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed.

“You can’t escape it.”

Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”

It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning.

For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like.

You saw the way he looked at everyone else.

And then there was the way he looked at you.

Something more.

You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you.

It was his turn to step closer.

Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes.

And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed.

But this.

This he didn’t see coming.

No matter how long he’d hoped for it.

You kissed him.

And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours.

In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours.

“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer.

“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”

Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows.

Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason.

“You might have to give me a minute.”

It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel.

“Thought I might get a show.”

Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”

You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again.

“What? What is it?”

You just kept looking.

“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like you’ve got two heads?”

You shook your head. “No. Like I’m…something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know…why do you look at me like that?”

Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”

You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years.

Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were.

And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice.

“Had being the key word.”

He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We…we both needed time.”

Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist.

Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync.

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”

You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”

He looked at you, again.

“You’re more than something more to me, too.”

Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 days ago

Text

Yandere Eldritch Ex-Husband ///////

Your now ex-husband is incredibly surprised when the authorities are dispatched to your new house when he enters. Thinking nothing of it he broke the knob of your new home, thinking after all that time talking with the judge over some foreign topic you’d both be settling into the new place. Turns out this ‘divorce’-thing and ‘restraining order’-stuff meant something after all. That he couldn’t be with you and the baby.

“Wait, the dee - force means I don’t get to come home? What–?”

“Sir, if you give me trouble it’ll only hurt your chances of seeing your kid more.”

“Wait I can’t see him? (Y/n)! (Y/n)-honey, please!”

“Sir, please put your hands behind your back.”

The only reason he doesn’t suck their brains out through their noses+ fight more is because he’s so devastated as he thinks about how in the dark about cruel-human-practices. Only now does it register that when you were oh-so cutely crying about leaving, you weren’t talking about a late night run to the store to satisfy your cravings. That the word he had dismissed as something you wanted to buy was actually an action. An action that meant he’d be deprived of the most important person in his life.

“Hello?”

“......I did not understand before….but I understand now.”

“Kilton? You know a restraining order extends to calls, right?”

“IM nOt LetTInG yOu go—”

Click.

“Creep.”

As he reluctantly uses the resources proposed to him, to argue for custody he has time to think about when you first mentioned the word. But the more he replays those heavenly moments with you he realizes how often your brow was scrunched and a vein was popping from that kissable forehead. It’s then that your ex-husband begins to realize just how little he was actually listening to you. Ashamed, he’s realized that while he finds all your actions absolutely irresistible it didn’t mean you were happy. And he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Hello this is Kilton (L/n) if you have a message leave it at the tone….beep.”

“Hey I hope I got the right number but I need your help with the baby….there’s stuff going on that I have no idea how to deal with. I won’t call the police or tell anyone..I just need….some help. And you're the only one who can give it to me.”

“OF COURSE i’LL BE RIGht oVER!”

“Wait you never set up your voicemai—”

When you left your husband, you were tired of being so confused all the time. Your husband, your best friend was keeping you in the dark for a long time now. Starting from the occasionally odd behavior you’d witness him do, that he’d brush off as if it were nothing. Like the doors in the house that have begun to open to alternate dimensions (that’s what you believe but your husband will not explain in any way) ignoring your concerns and calling you being ‘silly.’ It was annoying but you hadn’t died yet so it wasn’t that bad…until you got pregnant.

“How can this be?”

“Yippee I told you, that one took!”

“No, I literally can’t.”

“Of course, you can babe, you already are look at your little bump.”

“No like I literally can’t this is unbelievable.”

Whether you physically can and were vigilant in prevention or you physically should not be able to conceive matters not. You are pregnant. Or you were. And while dealing with the intense hormones and birthing pains and gravity-defying phenomena happening in your home, your ex-husband would explain nothing. Doing nothing but smile wistfully at you while you demanded to know why the fridge was inching closer every time you turned the corner. Any sane person could only handle so much of his pretend assurances that you were just losing your mind.

But hindsight 20/20 you should’ve known you couldn’t get rid of your eldritch ex-husband with your eldritch baby.

“Hey you left the door unlocked, so I let myself in. Babe, you can’t be doing that it’s really unsa–the furniture doesn’t look at all like it did before.”

“Of course it doesn’t! Because your son has decided to rearrange it with his humming!”

“That’s not a hum, Love. He’s singing a hymn of Utter Chaos–”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS MAKE HIM STOP.”

As you suspected the root of all the inexplicable happenings in your life were because of your ex-husband and by extension the little bundle that has been doing all sorts of things a normal baby shouldn’t. Like humming the ‘utter chaos song’ or making supplies float over to you while changing him or how at the end of his bath the water turns red and evaporates in an echo of screams. It’s just a little alarming.

“Where is the baby?”

“In that other dimension.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that something familiar to you? Every now and then he just goes into this other dimension that let’s his laugh morph the walls a little.”

“Oh my. That’s new for me too.”

Surprisingly despite your husband’s now-confirmed-eldritch-heritage he’s not an exact expert on everything his son does. Apparently no one from his world/dimension/atternate plane of existence does everything your son does and is blissfully writing off as something from your side of the family. He’ll shrug and use the opportunity to listen to you list the observations you’ve made about your darling offspring and maybe compliment you on your vigilance as a new unfortunately single parent. Don’t worry it won’t be that way for long!+

“So the blood water thing. It happens whenever he interacts with water.”

“Oh I know that one it’s an old habit of mine, for storing water for later!”

“What about the metal-eating?”

“Metal eating? With no teeth? Beats me must have gotten a taste from all those utensils you’re so fond of. By the way parenthood looks good on you have I told you that?”

As he becomes more of a constant presence in your home, there's a startling change in your baby boy’s behavior. It doesn’t stop but it’s a lot less destructive. Finally, you could have the delivery crew enter the yard without them being swallowed by the portal to your son’s crib. Finally, you can afford to have a couple-hour meet and greet with your family without anyone inexplicably sprouting horns. So reluctantly you let him back into your life with very specific conditions.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Aww but aren’t you worried about me going home in the dark?”

“I know you’re not just some helpless human, so no. Second rule no kissing or lovey dovey things with me.”

“Got it. So vague I can work with that.”

“And finally–”

“EEEKK! WHAT DID HE DO TO MY BABY!?”

“Oh guess someone’s up from their nap.”

“I’ll distract her with a ring to her doorbell, you change back the dog.”

“As always, please try to turn down her invites for dinner this time. I don’t think I can spare her if she upsets him again.”

“No promises!”

Kilton realizes that what he has with you doesn’t mean he’s equally let back into your life, especially since so many other couples ailed by this (dee)force co-parent more or less the same so he’s got his work cut out for him. He’ll have to finally get over his listening issue while worming his way back into your heart! And don’t worry he definitely will!

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yuons · 2 days ago

Text

IN EQUILIBRIUM, 一目ぼれ

──── in between loving and longing

缘分。 sim jaeyun x f!r .. ╱ 15OO+ o — angst fluff。 cau ! tion profanity jealousy toxicity guilt tripping jake is a douche non-est rs orbit

sinossi. jake didn’t think stringing you along would have consequences— until he sees you with someone else. he told himself it wouldn’t matter, that your attention wasn’t something he needed to begin with. so why is he chasing after you now? so desperate to pull you back, losing you was never part of the plan, but he needed you back into his orbit.

REBLOGS ◜◡◝ FEEDBACKS

jake’s jaw tightens, his fingers curling around the glass in his hand.

he doesn’t know what it is — why it bothers him so much — but watching you stand there, laughing with him, sends something sharp and bitter through his chest. it’s like an itch just beneath his skin, something he can’t reach, can’t soothe.

it’s not like you’re his.

he was the one stringing you along, keeping you at arm’s length, refusing to let things get too serious. but god, seeing you smile at someone else like that? like he’s the only one in the room? it makes his stomach twist in a way he doesn’t want to analyze.

he hates it— no, he despises it. despises the way that guy stands too close, how effortlessly he pulls your laughter from you, laughs that should only be his to hear. he wants to walk over, wrap an arm around your waist, and remind you exactly where you belong. wants to watch the light in that guy’s eyes flicker out as he realizes he never stood a chance.

he wants to scare that guy away, make sure he never even thinks about you again. wants to back you against a wall, kiss you until your mind goes blank. until he’s the only name you can remember, the only one you want to remember.

but all he can do is stand there, jaw clenched, watching from a distance. jake’s grip tightens around his drink, knuckles turning white before he forces himself to take a slow sip, the bitterness of the alcohol nowhere near as suffocating as the simmering hatred clawing at his ribs.

jay says something, some meaningless conversation jake barely registers. he nods along absently, eyes still locked on you. it’s only when jay goes quiet that the words finally break through.

“ah,” jay hums, tilting his head towards you. “your girl found a new guy?”

jake finally looks away, exhaling sharply, “don’t know what you’re talking about”

jay lets out a laugh, shaking his head, “come on, man. we all know this ‘she’s just a friend’ bullshit is a lie” he leans in, voice dropping just enough to twist the knife, “you’re fucking in love with her.”

jake’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking as he fights to keep his expression neutral, “i’m not.”

he’s not.

“right,” jay drawls, unconvinced. then he shrugs, taking a slow sip of his own drink, watching, “so him doing that to her doesn’t bother you, huh?”

jake barely hears the words before his head snaps back to you. and then he sees it.

sees him.

that guy. his hand creeping lower, fingers inching dangerously close to your ass.

that finally ticked him off.

the glass in his hand slams onto the bar, the sound sharp, final. his body moves before his mind can catch up, legs carrying him across the room, hands flexing unconsciously in the pocket of his jacket.

in a few strides, jake’s hand lands on the guy’s shoulder. not hard, not rough. just firm enough to make a point. almost friendly. almost.

the guy turns, brows furrowing slightly, confused by the sudden contact.

“hey,” jake says smoothly, voice light, almost casual. “nice to meet you. name’s jake.”

your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, but he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge you. his attention is locked on the guy in front of him, his grip tightening just enough to make the other man shift uncomfortably.

the guy blinks, clearly caught off guard, “oh, it’s-”

jake doesn’t let him finish.

“never seen you before,” he cuts in, tilting his head slightly, “how’d you get in? this party’s invite-only” his tone is different now, still smooth, but sharper. each word laced with something edged. “did you sneak in?”

the guy’s expression twists, offense flashing across his face, “what? no, i didn’t—”

jake hums, unconvinced, and then — before the guy can even process it — his hand leaves his shoulder and finds your waist, fingers curling around you, possessive, unyielding.

“well, if you were invited, you would’ve already known this is my girlfriend.” his voice drops lower, a rough undertone creeping into it. his jaw clenches, his fingers press into your side as his eyes lock onto the guy’s, “and i don’t like people putting their hands on what’s mine.”

the guy exhales sharply, stepping back instinctively, his gaze flicking between you and jake.

jake doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. he just watches, silent... daring him to make the wrong move.

the guy swallows hard, hands lifting in surrender, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t know- i should just- i’m going now,” his voice stumbles over itself, his feet following soon after as he disappears into the crowd without a second glance.

and just like that, he’s gone.

your hands are on jake in an instant, pushing him away, and only then does he finally look at you.

you’re pouting.

fuck.

he wants to kiss it away. grab your face, press his lips to yours until you forget why you’re mad. but he knows better. knows that spark in your eyes, the way your breath comes just a little sharper, the way your arms cross tightly over your chest.

you look adorable when you’re mad.

and hot.

you always look hot.

“what the hell was that?” your voice is sharp, cutting through the pulsing music around you.

jake shrugs, mouth set in a tight line, “he was about to borderline assault you.”

“i’m not talking about that, jake.”

his eyebrows draw together, “then what?”

you scoff, looking away. is he seriously that dumb?

“i told you last week i wanted to distance myself from you. what part of that don’t you understand?”

jake pressed his lips in a tight line, irritation creeping into his features, “it’s not like i followed you here.”

“i’m not saying you did,” you snap. “i’m saying, why can’t you let me talk to other guys?”

his jaw locks, “because.”

your brows lift, “because what?”

a muscle in his jaw ticks, “because all those guys are terrible.”

a dry, humorless laugh leaves your lips, “oh, and you’re not?”

jake stiffens, but before he can even attempt to answer, you press on.

“i mean, let’s think about it,” you say, voice dropping into something mocking, “you did make out with my enemy in front of the entire school— but, oh, you said sorry, so i guess now we’re even, right?”

your words land like a punch, sharp and unforgiving.

jake exhales slowly through his nose, his fingers fidgeting at his sides. he doesn’t have a comeback for that.

not one that would fix anything.

not one that would make you stay.

“that’s what i thought.” your voice is sharp. but underneath it, below all the anger, there’s something emotional, something that longs for all his actions to be untrue.

jake doesn’t say a word, just stares. his silence feels heavier than anything he could’ve said.

and it pisses you off.

“you know what?” you let out a breathless laugh, “just go date her. i don’t fucking care anymore. clearly, you value her over our—” you pause, the word thick in your throat before you spit it out like it disgusts you. “our nothing.”

jake flinches.

good.

the same word he threw at you a week ago. the same word that took everything you ever were to him and reduced it to dust. nothing.

you take a step back, maybe to ground yourself, maybe to put some distance between you.

“now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m gonna go find that guy again, because at least he’s nice. and at least he doesn’t” you pause, glaring at jake, “at least he doesn’t make me feel like this.”

jake suddenly moves forward, desperate, like his body acts before his mind can catch up, "don't go."

it’s barely above a whisper, maybe you imagined it.

you wish you did.

you act like you did.

but you hesitate.

and jake catches it. the way your breath catches, the way your fingers curl into your palms like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

“please.”

that one word, the way his voice breaks on it, makes something inside you stutter.

“i” his hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you but knows he shouldn’t, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t know what came over me when she kissed me, and i haven’t slept since, and knowing you hate me and it’s fucking killing me, i don’t know what to do—”

his voice cracks again, and your chest tightens.

“you have every right to hate me,” he whispers, “but please. please don’t leave me.”

you squeeze your eyes shut.

you shouldn’t turn around, you should just walk away, you should make him feel every ounce of pain you’ve felt for the past week.

but you do turn around.

and you wish you didn’t.

because hell.

jake looks wrecked. his eyes are red, tears slipping down his face, jaw clenched like he’s physically trying to stop himself from breaking down completely.

you hate him.

you told yourself you despise and loathe him.

so why are your hands reaching for him?

jake’s breath stutters when your fingers brush against his skin, cupping his face, your thumbs swiping away his tears. his eyes flutter shut, like he’s afraid that if he moves, you’ll pull away.

and maybe it was because of how cold his skin is compared to yours, or the tears that keep falling, you know that you don’t want to let go.

𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗶 : this is one of my experimental pieces so i hope it will be given as much love as the others 💌 this is for anna because she really liked it !

taglist form + daily clicks.

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morganaawriterr · 3 days ago

Text

Love’s the death of peace of mind; Jay

SYNOPSIS ➺ You always believed your obsession with Jay was somewhat harmless — the stolen glances, the job you took just to stay close, the nights spent following his every move. But when familiar faces start vanishing and strange coincidences pile up, a chilling truth begins to surface.

PAIRING ➺ Stalker fem!reader X not-so-inocent lawyer!Jay

GENRE ➺ Thriller; slow burn (?); stalker au; killer au; strangers to lovers (?);

WORDS ➺ 13k

WARNINGS ➺ Staker behavior; mentions of blood and death; cursing; obsessive behavior; sexual content (not fully smut); heavy tension; age gap (3 years);

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ This fic is so freaking cool, I am so excited to finally post it! This took me a whole week to write and prepare and its literally my fav ever!!! I hope you guys like it as well! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you so much! Masterlist

You never knew you were capable of becoming what you have.

But your eyes are, once again, focused on him as he sits down in his usual spot by the large window. He always sets down his backpack and takes out his computer after placing his order. He doesn’t put on his earphones until his drink is sitting on the table, just so he can hear you call his name. You barely know him; in fact, you only know his name because you had to write it on the cup. Yet your mind drowns in thoughts of him every time he comes to the café.

The ambient is calm and quiet, the only audible sounds coming from the Bluetooth speakers playing soft jazz. You force your eyes to shift to the dark day outside, where heavy gray clouds paint the sky dark even at three in the afternoon. You admire the bushes swaying in the wind by the entrance, noticing small flower petals drifting away.

Your gaze wanders to the big TV hanging on the wall, and your eyes widen at the news. A girl who’s been missing for months flashes across the screen, and as you carefully take in her face, your heart tightens with an unfamiliar fear, a deep, unsettling feeling that you can’t quite place.

Uncomfortable, you turn toward your annoyed coworker, who’s making the drinks all by herself. As you watch, you notice the store is out of the caramel topping your mystery man always asks for. You smile to yourself, grateful for the universe giving you a chance to talk to him. Your heart flutters at the thought of his voice—not too deep, but warm and attractive.

You slowly walk toward his table, and he notices you halfway there, turning his head to shamelessly watch you approach. Despite your hair being tied in a tidy ponytail, Jongseong can tell how long it is as it sways with each step. His eyes travel lower, and though you’re wearing the unflattering store uniform, he imagines the curves of your body beneath it. The uniform consists of a forest-green button-up shirt, black slacks, and a white apron tied around your waist.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jongseong. Unfortunately, we’re out of caramel topping. Would you like to replace it with something else, or would you prefer a refund?” You speak calmly, keeping your voice as professional as possible.

The man in front of you lifts his gaze to yours, his deep brown eyes holding your attention with an intensity that makes the air feel suddenly thick and hard to breathe. You feel your cheeks flush under his insistent stare, and after a few seconds of silence, he finally responds:

“You can replace it with whatever you think is best. Something tells me your choice will be better than anything I could come up with.” Jongseong’s voice is just as smooth and alluring as you remembered, and you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips.

“Sure thing, Mr. Jongseong.” You offer him a gentle smile and bow politely before turning back toward the counter.

Jay watches you walk away, his eyes following the confident sway of your hips. The apron tied snugly around your waist only emphasizes your figure, and he finds himself captivated. He’s never seen someone so beautiful working such an ordinary job, and now he has his eyes on you.

At the counter, you tell your coworker to add vanilla instead, your favorite flavor for both milk and coffee. As you lean on the counter, she notices the silly smile on your lips and rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed by how easily flustered you are. But she doesn’t know how Jongseong’s eyes wandered over your body or how that gaze left you feeling warm and tingly.

After all, she’s stuck with an unappealing man who’s older but somehow more childish than she is. She thinks you don’t know, but you’ve overheard their fights when he comes to pick her up, his voice always reeking of cigars and cheap cologne. The way he looks at you, like you’re a piece of meat, makes your skin crawl. But today, you’re feeling generous, thanks to the universe, so you let it slide without a word.

As soon as your coworker finishes his drink, you take the cup in your hand, your fingers tracing the letters of his name written on the fragile plastic. You love the way his name rolls off your tongue like a quiet spell.

“Order for Jongseong!” You call out, your voice clear and careful, your eyes fixed in his direction.

Just like a scene from a romantic movie, he rises slowly from his chair and walks toward you. His dark hair is styled back, exposing his forehead, and he’s wearing a sleek black Prada suit. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air as he approaches, and once again, his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

“Here. I hope you like it!” You say eagerly, extending the cup toward him.

“I’m sure I will,” Jongseong replies with a small smile, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the cup from your hand.

And with that, he turns his back and returns to his spot, getting back to his computer just as quickly as he left. You find yourself glued to the way his long fingers move across the keyboard and wonder how they would feel on your skin, gripping your flesh, exploring you, teasing you. You imagine how easily they could reach that spot inside you that you can barely brush against.

Without noticing, your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. Your coworker notices how still you’ve become and gives you a light push, making you stumble on your feet.

“You're staring. At least be sneaky,” she whispers by your side, a teasing smirk on her thin, dry lips.

“Thank you so much for the advice!” you respond with a fake smile before turning around and heading to the back of the café to take a deep breath.

The storage room carries an unpleasant smell of rot because the forgotten fruits in the wooden basket have started growing mold. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, feeling a wave of annoyance. Reaching for the basket, you prepare to take it outside to the trash. Your coworker claimed she had thrown them out last week, which was the last time you worked with her, but clearly, she hadn’t.

As you step through the rusty back door, a harsh gust of wind hits your warm face, offering a refreshing relief. You walk unhurriedly toward the back of the building, where the recycling bins and trash cans are located, humming a soft tune to yourself. You open the trash bin and dump the rotten fruits inside, glad to finally get rid of the stench. Being so sensitive to smells, you notice the distinct scent of rain in the air and know it’s about to start pouring.

As you stand outside, watching the heavy clouds roll across the sky, you feel the first cold drops land on your hair. The raindrops are thick and heavy, soaking your uniform as you close your eyes and tilt your head up, savoring the cool comfort they bring. But after a few seconds, the sensation shifts. You no longer feel the rain hitting you, but instead, you sense the presence of someone standing very close.

You open your eyes slowly and are met with the sight of the tall, handsome man from the café, holding a large black umbrella. His eyes travel across your face, confusion flickering across his sharp features. He takes in your appearance, your dark lashes heavy with rain and your lips stained a deep, bloody red. There’s something about you that draws him in, something he can’t quite place.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?” Jongseong asks, his voice breaking the silence beneath the umbrella, contrasting with the relentless sound of the rain pounding against it.

You stay quiet for a few seconds, your eyes tracing the sharp angles of his jawline now that he’s so close. His lips look even more tempting up close, a perfect balance of pouty and full. You wonder why the universe keeps gifting you these small, perfect moments with him, but you’re grateful all the same.

“I needed to throw away some spoiled fruit,” you explain, his gaze burning into you as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face.

“Then shouldn’t you hurry inside instead of standing out here in the rain?”

There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it also feels like gentle scolding. You try to come up with a reason for lingering besides the simple desire to feel the cool rain against your heated skin. After all, he’s the reason your body feels so warm, his presence and his intoxicating scent clouding your senses.

“I’m going,” you joke, your eyes locking with his one last time before you turn and run toward the back door. You feel his gaze on you the entire way until the heavy metal door closes behind you.

Jay smiles to himself at your adorable reaction, feeling more intrigued than ever. Standing there in the pouring rain, he tells himself he has to come back every day just to catch a glimpse of your pretty face—and maybe, just maybe, get to know you better.

Jongseong comes back the next day, hoping to admire you for a while before starting his work. The city's streets are bustling, and since the café is in the heart of the city, the walk there isn’t long. He smiles as the front of the café comes into view, the blooming bushes swaying gently with the wind.

To his surprise, when he steps inside the cozy place, he isn’t met with your familiar face. Instead, two different girls are working. They smile as soon as he walks in and greet him politely.

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” one of them asks, but Jay finds his mind elsewhere.

“Maybe an espresso to go, please,” he responds just as politely, a small smile on his lips.

“In what name?” she asks, her fingers gripping the black marker, waiting for his answer.

“Jongseong, please.”

She writes his name down and proceeds with the payment. Jay fights a battle inside his head, curious about where you are and whether you’re okay. Should he ask about you? Would that be weird? You’ve only spoken twice, aside from exchanging a few glances. But before his brain can stop him, his mouth moves on its own. As his hand wraps around the warm cup, he asks:

“Do you know if your coworker who worked yesterday is okay?” The words leave his mouth, and he immediately cringes. What a stupid question.

“Hmm, yesterday? Who worked yesterday?” the girl asks the other barista making the drinks.

“It was YN and Munhee, but I think they’re okay. Today’s their rest day,” the girl responds while shaking a cup. Her eyes flick briefly to Jay and then back to her friend.

“Maybe you’re curious about YN? Since Munhee has a boyfriend…” the girl teases with a smile. “YN works on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Don’t tell her I told you this, please!” she adds with a playful pout.

Jay can’t help but smile. “Thank you, and don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything!” he assures them with a last bow and a warm smile before leaving the café.

As he walks away, he reflects on how easy it was to get that information. Don’t they know it’s not safe to share their coworker’s schedule with strangers? Who knows what someone could do with that knowledge? Thankfully, Jongseong only wants to see you more often.

He still remembers the first few times he saw you. You were always smiling and polite, helping your coworkers and keeping an eye on the customers to make sure they were comfortable. The first time you made eye contact was when you noticed him putting on his jacket and turned the AC on, adjusting the temperature just enough to be comfortable.

Jay admired you from afar, his eyes drawn to the curve of your lips as you smiled at him, a quiet acknowledgment. That small, thoughtful act was what made him want to keep coming back, hoping for just a little more of your warmth. It’s nothing more than a quiet admiration, or so he tells himself.

Today is Saturday, and the coffee shop is busier than normal, and as you pace back and forth behind the counter, the sun shines beautifully outside. The light reflects inside the place and spreads a comfortable warmth, despite the chaotic environment.

This time, because your coworker is new, she is taking orders, and you are making the beverages. The drinks today seem to be oddly specific, with numerous variations and additions, causing you to take longer to prepare them. And to your luck, the new hire is also making mistakes when adding the extras, forcing you to remake multiple drinks.

You can feel the sweat forming on your forehead as time goes by and the customers' unsatisfied glares burn into your back. The stress makes your body feel warmer, and your hands start to tremble, exhaustion taking over. Today was also the day you opened the store, and now this rush hour is dangerously close to the time you clock out.

You didn’t even notice him, but he was there the whole time, sitting in his usual spot by the window, calmly sipping his coffee while occasionally glancing in your direction, hoping you would finally see him. But that never happens.

Jay lifts his head from his computer and tries to glance your way, and that’s when he notices something is wrong. His fingers slowly take his earphones off, and he is met with a loud male voice, shouting and making exaggerated hand movements toward you. You stand there with your hands behind your back, head facing down, listening to the man’s insults.

“This is an unacceptable thing to happen!” the man says louder, his eyes scanning the room to make sure everyone is watching. “If you’re that bad at making drinks in this stupid job, maybe do something else!” he jokes with a disgusting smirk, his eyes now traveling up and down your figure. “With a body like that, the OnlyFans site would be grateful to have—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Jongseong is right by his side, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Jay holds it tight, making sure the man can barely breathe. Jongseong’s body is shaking from the sudden adrenaline, but he wouldn’t just stand there and watch that son of a bitch make fun of you.

“If you can’t accept that mistakes happen, you better stop coming to coffee shops,” Jay says, mocking the man’s words.

“She spilled cheap coffee all over my expensive suit!” the man fires back, glaring at Jongseong.

“That doesn’t give you the right to harass her, asshole.” Your Savior’s gaze quickly flickers toward you, making sure you’re okay.

Jay finally releases the man’s collar, causing him to stumble back slightly. As if accepting his defeat, the man turns his back and walks out, leaving a heavy atmosphere behind. Your eyes are visibly watery, and Jay hates it more than he can confess. As his gaze lingers on you, the customers slowly return to their own bubbles.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes carefully searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Yeah, thank you,” you respond with a shaky voice, your cheeks turning pink. “I leave in thirty minutes… so I can handle it.” Your eyes hesitantly meet his, hoping he understands the message behind your words.

“Good,” Jongseong responds simply, offering you a final smile before turning around and walking back to his usual spot.

Those thirty minutes feel like hell, your brain shaming you for telling him that information, judging you for being too easy. Thankfully, the customers start to leave, and the pace finally slows down. Your new coworker seems scared for her life, turning quiet after the incident.

“You okay?” you ask her as you step by her side, with no more drinks to make. She tries to give you a small smile.

“I’m fine… that just caught me off guard. I didn’t know people could be this mean to someone who’s just working,” she says softly.

“It doesn’t happen often,” you try to assure her, softly patting her shoulder. “It’s finally one p.m., and Munhee’s already here, so I’m leaving. Keep up the good work, and don’t worry about the mistakes they make on the first days.” You try to ease her mind before leaving, knowing how annoying Munhee can be.

Your eyes scan the room in the hope of seeing Jongseong, but he’s nowhere to be found. He left? You wonder, feeling a pang of disappointment.

The changing room feels cold as you strip off your uniform, but the memory of the warm day outside makes you smile, already coming up with different plans to fill the rest of your day. As you pull on your red, lacy top, your mind wanders back to Jay.

Where could he be? Why was he here every day you worked? Was he rich? Did he have a wife? Where does he work? What does he do? This might seem a little obsessive since you barely know him, but you can’t deny that over the past few days, there’s been a spark every time you spoke, and it made your heart jump in excitement.

You grab your black purse and grip your phone in your hand, thinking about investigating him on Instagram. Maybe you could find his account and start answering your questions there. But as you push open the heavy back door, you’re met with someone leaning against the wall.

“Sir, you can’t be here,” you begin, but when your eyes fully take in his features, the rest of your words die in your throat. “Jongseong?” you manage to let out, your heart once again speeding up.

“Hey, Y/N. You said you were leaving in half an hour, so… I waited here.”

He has a soft smile on his lips as he looks at you, waiting for your answer.

“I thought you didn’t get the memo. I looked around for you, and I didn’t see you,” you explain, feeling a little embarrassed by your honesty.

“I didn’t want the people to see me leave with you,” Jay says as he starts walking toward the main street.

You don’t like the way he says that, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. A heavy silence settles between you as you walk down the main street, people pacing around, busy with their usual Saturday routines. Suddenly, your stomach growls, making Jay turn his head in your direction.

“You hungry?” he asks, glancing at you with a soft curiosity.

Your knees almost buckle under his intense gaze. “Yeah… I didn’t have time to eat before I left,” you confess, turning your head to the side in hopes that he doesn’t catch your flushed cheeks.

“Let me get you something to eat,” Jongseong offers, his hand gently brushing against yours, his index finger softly tracing your skin.

Following the delicious smells drifting down the street, you soon find yourself at the local market. The road is lined with food stalls stretching into the distance, and the sight immediately makes you smile. It had been a busy day at work, and you genuinely hadn’t had time to eat.

As your eyes scan the shops, Jay disappears from your side for a few minutes, and you watch him from afar, asking the nice old lady for a portion of food. When he starts walking back in your direction, you recognize the small portion of tteokbokki.

“Here, eat this while we look for a shop with full meals,” Jay instructs, handing you the small plate. The spicy smell hits your nose, and you close your eyes, savoring it.

“I love tteokbokki so much!” you say with a wide smile while looking at Jay. “Thank you so much!” As you shift the plate to your right hand so you can start eating, Jay walks behind you.

His long, bony fingers gently gather all of your hair, and then he ties it in a low bun with a hair tie. He takes his time, making sure the hairstyle looks as perfect as you. Slowly, you look over your shoulder and are met with his confused face as he studies your hair. When he feels your eyes on him, his gaze moves from your strands to your face.

“Gotta make sure you don’t get this beautiful hair dirty while eating,” he says, as if he were reading your mind.

The butterflies spreading in your stomach make you sure that maybe you are starting to develop a crush on him and his sweet demeanor. He comes back to your side and slowly starts walking, watching you while you eat the spicy rice cakes eagerly. Jongseong isn’t sure what’s making him act like this with you. He never does this with anyone, but you feel different.

As you walk past the people also looking for something to eat, you let the familiar noise help calm your racing heart, feeling like a kid with a crush. The last rice cake enters your mouth just in time, and Jay throws the plate in the trash while his eyes scan the shops, wondering which one you would like.

“Stay here. I’ll get it,” you tell him, smiling.

“No, wait—” He stops you, his right hand gently wrapping around your wrist. Your eyes travel to his hand, scanning his fingers for a sign of a wedding ring. But you can’t find anything. “Let me do it for you.”

“No, there’s no need for you to pay for my food, Jongseong,” you insist, trying to push his hand away from your skin.

“I want to,” he responds in a stern voice, eyeing your face. Jay loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, as if you were spelling out each syllable carefully just to affect him.

You press your lips together and roll your eyes, wanting badly to give in, but still feeling guilty about it. Jongseong’s other free hand gently taps yours, and his fingers leave your wrist right after. You watch as he walks up to yet another small shop and buys you a steaming bowl of bibimbap. He walks back to you as fast as he left, a smile on his face.

“Here you go. I hope you like it,” Jay says softly, his eyes affectionate as he hands you the warm food. “It’s almost two thirty. I have to go back to work. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, YN.”

You gaze at him, hypnotized, hating how much you love the way your name sounds in his voice. Then you realize you’ve never actually told him your name. But before you can ask, you remember that your uniform has a name tag, and maybe that’s how he knows.

“You work on Saturdays too?” you ask, a little disappointed.

“Yeah. Being a lawyer isn’t as easy as it may seem. I have to study the case before court,” he explains, his right hand reaching for your cheek and gently caressing it.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he assures you, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at you.

Another thing that makes you weak is his height and how much taller he is compared to you. “See you,” you wave at him as he starts walking away, blending into the big crowd of people.

You’ve never done this before, and you never thought you ever would, but all the mystery around Jay makes you curious. What he told you still hangs in your mind. Why didn’t he want people to see him with you? That must mean he has something to hide.

So, before you even realize it, you find yourself following his steps through the crowd. He seems to be in no rush, walking slowly along the busy streets like he has all the time in the world. You eat the bibimbap as you follow him, taking time to lean against a wall to hide every time he looks back or makes a turn.

Your heart beats faster the longer you go after him; the suspense of finding out something is making you nervous. As he crosses the road, you throw away the empty bowl and wait a few seconds before crossing it too.

From your hiding spot near a public bathroom, you watch him walk inside a big building covered in glass. The large letters outside spelling “Law Firm” confirm that his job is indeed being a lawyer. You slowly walk toward the building, taking your time to avoid running into him. You’re not sure what you’d do or say exactly if you did, but you can’t stop now. Not when you’re so close.

As you step inside the place, you’re met with a security pass just ahead. Behind it, a large coffee spot spreads out, with brown and white sitting areas and sofas. As your eyes scan the place, you notice a big sign saying they’re looking for a new manager for the coffee area, and a small smirk grows on your lips.

Is there any better way to get closer to Jongseong than working in the same building as him?

The next few days at work pass by surprisingly fast. Since it's officially summer, the coffee shop is always filled with happy teens asking for refreshing drinks. During the four days you’ve worked, Jongseong comes around just in time to see you get to work or a few moments before you leave, but this week he never kept you company after work.

You felt kind of disappointed about it, wanting to talk to him more and more every day, but he was always there at the café, waiting for you to call his name so you could hand him his drink. And every time you did, he’d walk over with that precious smile, making butterflies swirl in your stomach. Jay’s fingers would linger on yours every time you passed him the cup, causing a faint pink blush to paint your cheeks.

Sometimes, when the café was calm, you’d pretend to clean the tables near him just so you could admire him, mesmerized by his prominent jawline and expensive clothes. Other times he’d call for you, pretending he needed something, just so you’d come over to his table and talk to him. Jongseong would ask about your day, scold you if you hadn’t eaten yet, and always flash you his beautiful smile and those small dimples.

Of course, he was unaware of the days you followed him back to his workplace, unaware of how you weren’t exactly as innocent as he thought. This week, you’d started taking photos of him, carefully, of course. He was clueless about how you admired those pictures in your bed late at night, drowned in thoughts of him. Every time you lay down and closed your eyes, you could hear his voice saying your name in a needy tone; you could imagine his long fingers tracing your thighs and making you scream his name.

That handsome face of his—you wanted to see it contort in pleasure so badly. Or maybe in pain, as you sink your teeth into his flesh and mark him up so everyone knows he’s yours. Every time Jay asked if you slept well, you always said yes with the biggest smile on your lips.

Today you were working with your work-bestie, Jihyo, who was always funny and matched your energy at work. As you spoke to Jay, her eyes stayed glued to the two of you. She found it adorable how shy you became when he was close, but as Jihyo observed his face more carefully, she realized he was the man from the other day, the one who’d asked about you.

Something inside her stirred, and she felt sick. Call it a bad omen, but she wasn’t as happy to see you with him anymore, realizing how creepy the whole thing seemed. When you started walking back with a tray filled with empty cups, she ran to your side to help you load them into the dishwasher.

“I have something to tell you,” she said in a low voice, her tone hinting that something was wrong.

“I have something to tell you too!” you added with a bright smile, completely missing the worry on her face.

“I’m serious, Y/N…” Jihyo said sternly, her fingers tightening around a cup. “That guy you were talking to—he came here last week asking about you. At first, I thought he knew you from somewhere and was going to tell me something about you, but he didn’t even know your name. I had to tell him. The new hire mentioned you were on your rest day, and I told him that.”

She explained, pushing the dishwasher door closed. You looked at her with furrowed brows, not understanding where she was going with this.

“So I told him your schedule. I didn’t mean to, but it just happened. Munhee told me he’s been here every day just to see you. Isn’t that creepy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked into yours.

“Creepy? No!” you giggled. “He’s just interested in me and trying to impress me.” She didn’t like your answer.

“No, listen to me. It wouldn’t be weird if he came from time to time… but every single day you work?” Jihyo insisted, that bad feeling stirring inside her once again.

“I think it’s kind of hot, honestly. Relax,” you told her, giving her a side hug. “I know how to take care of myself, and besides, I like him too.” Jihyo wanted to believe you, wanted to ignore the heavy sense of dread sitting in her chest, but it was too much.

Still, she forced a small smile. “Well, you know I’m always here if you need me,” she added, and you made a cute pout before giving her a real hug.

“Aw, you’re so cute! I know you are; that’s why I want to tell you something!” you teased, excitement lighting up your face. “I’m going to be a manager!” you announced, and Jihyo’s face lit up with the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“Oh my god, girl! I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, but don’t get too excited… because it won’t be here,” you said, watching her expression shift. “It’s in a big building, a law firm. They have this massive coffee shop area, and the pay is wonderful!”

She stayed silent.

“Come on, Jihyo! Say something,” you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at her.

“I’m happy for you, girl, but… this whole thing… it has a weird vibe,” she confessed, still trying to keep her smile.

“It’s going to be fine~!” you said, brushing off her concern before turning your back to check on the new customers waiting at the counter.

You didn’t notice the horrified look on Jihyo's face when she realized Jay had been standing by the counter the entire time — his eyes locked on hers as she voiced all of her concerns. When her gaze met Jongseong’s, his stare was intense and uncomfortable. The charming and sweet aura he usually carried was gone. The way his eyes darkened made him look like a complete psychopath, and a shiver ran up her spine.

Quickly, she turned her back on him and hurried to the backroom, needing a deep breath before returning to the front. But the image of Jongseong’s deadly stare was already engraved in her mind.

Walking down the usual street today makes you feel emotional, knowing it’s your last day working in this place. Memories cross your mind, and you remember all the good days at work, the laughter, and the fun you shared with your coworkers. A small smile grows on your lips, but it doesn’t last long. When you walk into the café, you notice how empty it is despite it being a Saturday.

The day outside is warm and bright, spreading positivity that should motivate people to leave their homes, yet only a few customers are sitting inside, chatting quietly. Your eyes meet Munhee’s, and she gives you a fake smile, as if silently saying you should have come in earlier. You return a forced smile.

Since it’s so quiet and slow, you tell her to stay behind the counter while you grab some cleaning supplies to give the coffee machine a deep clean. To your surprise, she agrees without protest. So you busy yourself with the mission of scrubbing every inch of the machine while vibing to the music playing from the speakers.

Two hours later, the place is still somehow deserted. Your eyes scan the few customers inside, and you realize Jongseong hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe he won’t come today, and if he doesn’t, you won’t get to tell him it’s your last day. You hadn’t mentioned it before because you wanted it to be a surprise, but since he hadn’t waited for you after work this week, you never got the chance.

As your mind drifts, you remember how strange he looked yesterday. When you left work around lunchtime, you grabbed a quick bite and waited near the building where he works. But to your surprise, he didn’t leave until nine p.m., looking exhausted and maybe a little sick. His skin was paler than usual, and you watched him sneeze a few times before getting into his car.

Perhaps he’s taking a sick day, you think. With that thought in mind, you try to keep yourself busy, cleaning everything within reach. After the coffee machine, you tackle the pastry display, then the inside windows, the tables, and even the floor. Sweat forms on your forehead as you proudly admire the spotless windows, not a single fingerprint in sight.

You find yourself standing in the middle of the room when your eyes catch the TV, where an elderly woman is crying, pleading for her missing daughter to come home. The sight brings back memories of the girl who disappeared weeks ago. Tears well up in your eyes at the woman’s desperate words, so you quickly look away, trying to regain your composure.

With your shift almost over and hunger setting in, you grab a chocolate muffin and head to the back for a quiet moment. But your peace doesn’t last long.

“That weirdo stalker guy you like is here. He’s outside,” Munhee announces with a smug smile.

“Don’t you think you should worry more about your own creepy boyfriend? It’s weird how you pretend he’s not a whole thirty-five-year-old dating a nineteen-year-old,” you snap back, tired of her constant jabs.

Truth be told, her comments about Jay have been grating on your nerves for days. The second the words leave your mouth, her face twists in shock, clearly not expecting you to bite back.

“He’s not a creep! I’m not a minor!” she shouts as you head toward the back door, refusing to engage any further.

Outside, Jongseong stands against the wall, looking more casual than usual. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants, and your eyes trail over his toned arms, following the line of his muscles until he notices you.

“Hey,” he greets you, his voice deeper than usual.

“Hey. What’s up with you?” you ask, pretending not to know he’s sick.

“Caught a cold. Not sure why,” Jay explains, his gaze fixed on you. “You’re not done with work yet?”

“No, but only ten minutes left,” you reply with a grin, your eyes drifting to his neck.

“I’ll wait here,” he assures you.

You nod and slip back inside, closing the rusty back door behind you. The last ten minutes pass quickly as you put the cleaning supplies away and wash your hands.

“I’m leaving,” you inform Munhee, untying the knot of your apron.

“No, you’re supposed to close!” she whines, but you just flash her a smile.

“I don’t care. Goodbye,” you reply, heading toward the changing room. Before you disappear, you add one final jab. “Oh, and tell your boyfriend I’d never sleep with him, no matter how much he begged the last time.”

The way her face flushes with rage makes you laugh as you slip away. Quickly, you change into your long black dress and boots, leaving the uniform behind for good. When you step outside again, Jay is standing right by the door. His eyes rake over your figure, taking in the way the soft fabric of your dress hugs your curves.

“Shall we go?” he asks, extending his hand.

You nod and let him take your hand; his fingers warm around yours.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask with a smirk, your other hand clutching your purse.

“I thought we could grab something delicious at the local market. Like last time,” he suggests, glancing at you.

“Sounds good. But you’re not going to ditch me this time, right?” you tease, pouting up at him.

“I won’t leave, princess. I promise,” Jay assures you, his dark eyes softening with affection.

Your face lights up with a wide smile as you stroll alongside him, the silence between you feeling warm and comfortable. You take in the busy street, the hum of conversations, and the scent of street food filling the air.

As Jongseong’s eyes wander over the bustling city, you wonder what’s going through his mind. He always looks so composed and serious, but when he looks at you, his entire face softens. That change in him is what draws you in the most. He’s unreadable.

“What are you feeling today? Rice or noodles?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the road to admire your face.

“Hmm… maybe noodles,” you say thoughtfully, your eyes meeting his.

Jay nods, his lips curling into a small smile. “Let’s see what options we have.” His eyes scan the line of food stalls ahead. “Oh, what about rabokki?” he suggests, and the way your face lights up tells him he’s made the right call.

This time you and him walk together to the small shop and sit down on the plastic chairs while waiting for the food to be ready. You rest your chin in your hands and look at Jay once again, analyzing every inch of his handsome face. Then, a question pops into your head:

“Can you tell me a bit more about yourself? We've been talking for weeks, and you didn't even tell me your age,” you say.

Jay presses his lips together and rubs his hands, seeming a little embarrassed. “I’m not half as interesting as you think I am. But you are right. I’m 25, I am a lawyer, and I’m single. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here with you.”

“Hmmm, a loyal man, I see. I like those,” you joke, earning a laugh from him. “I’m 23, a very skilled barista, and I'm also single,” you share.

Jay admires the way your lips curve into a smile as you speak, making your cheeks look fuller. He might seem laid back and confident, but the way you are making him question things about himself kind of scares him. You're so cute and hardworking… such an angel.

His thoughts are interrupted by the voice of the old lady saying that the food is ready. Proving once again how much of a gentleman he is, Jongseong gets up from his spot and reaches for the two hot bowls, setting them on the table. For drinks, you both choose a Coca-Cola can and get some kimchi on the side.

Silence sits with you at the table as you both start to eat, but despite not talking, there is something hanging in the air. You can feel it every time you accidentally lock eyes with Jay. A shot of electricity that you haven't felt with anyone else. You notice every single little movement he makes as you eat—the way he grips his chopsticks and the way his free hand gently holds the bowl.

“I need to tell you something,” you say in a low voice, your eyes nervously avoiding his.

“Tell me.”

“I quit my job, and I'm starting somewhere else,” you finally disclose.

Jay flashes you a smile.

“That is great! Why are you acting like it's a big deal?” he asks, chewing on a piece of rice cake.

“Well, I won't be able to see you so much.” It is an obvious lie because the place you've been employed is in the same building as his job, but he doesn't know that.

“Oh, that's what worries you?” he adds with a small smirk, teasingly. “We can try to make our schedules align and go out anyway.”

“Maybe,” you simply say as that weird feeling from the other day spreads across your body.

The words you want to say die in your throat as your body suddenly becomes hyper-aware of what is happening around you. Jongseong notices the way you suddenly turn quiet and finds it strange. As his eyes analyze your face, he sees that you have turned pale.

It seems like you are trying to listen to the girls behind you, your body leaning into them just enough for him to notice. “YN, are you okay?” he asks, concerned, his hand sliding across the table and gently holding yours.

“Yeah… It’s just that the girls behind me are talking about that girl and those men who have been missing for months. And I don't know why, but every time I think about them, I feel sick,” you explain, nervously swirling around the little bit of noodles you have left.

You don't notice how his face turns cold as you talk about the missing people. Your eyes are busy looking at your food. But Jay’s jaw tightens, and his skin becomes warmer.

“YN, I would never let anyone come near you to hurt you,” Jongseong tells you, his eyes serious and dark as he gazes into your face, looking at your eyes. “I can protect you. You don't need to be scared.”

You finally lift your face and look into his eyes, but they barely offer any comfort. Instead, they make your throat close. “Thank you,” you manage to say, pulling away from his hand. “Can we leave? I’m feeling suffocated,” you ask him, but it sounds more desperate than you intended.

Jay nods his head and stands up to go pay for the meal. After that, he signals you to walk in front of him as he slowly follows behind, his hand barely resting on your lower back, trying to offer you some comfort. When you are finally back on the main road, the fresh air feels incredible as you take a deep breath, but the discomfort from before is still present.

Not understanding what your body is trying to tell you, you try to come up with an excuse to go home. Soon enough, you find one.

“Thank you so much for the meal, but I'm feeling exhausted. I think I need some rest,” you explain, stopping your walk to look at Jay, whose eyes haven't left your frame for one second.

“Sure, princess, I can take you home if you want.” Jongseong suggests.

“No, it's okay. You're sick; maybe it's better you go rest too!” you deny his request, needing to be alone to process what you are feeling.

“Alright, as you wish,” Jongseong adds in a sweet tone, his hand reaching out for your face so he can caress your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his palm, the feeling of his touch burning your skin in the best way possible. As you open your eyes, you observe the little dimples on his cheeks as he smiles at your cute reaction.

“Maybe you can give me your number?” Jay asks, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean… I just want to know if you're okay when—”

“Of course I can, dummy. Here.” You reach for your phone and show him your number. He quickly grabs his cellphone and types in your contact information. Then he calls you for a few seconds so you can save his number too.

“Text me when you get home,” he adds sweetly as he leans forward and plants a small kiss on your forehead.

Your cheeks feel warm all over again, his manly demeanor putting you under his spell. You don't say anything else; just wave at him and start your way back to your place, your heart still jumping happily at the faint sensation of his kiss on your skin.

Later, when you get home, you quickly text him, “I’m home, Jay,” and then run to your bathroom to take a long, hot shower. You use that time to think about what you felt and what your next step will be since you've got the job at the same place as him. These feelings that you have for him are much more than just a crush. You crave him. You want to know every single detail about him. You want to be the center of his world, and you want him only for yourself.

As you start to dry your damp body, your phone vibrates, signaling that Jongseong has responded to your text: “I’m glad, princess. I’m also at home. My body feels heavy, so I'm going to sleep. Have a good rest of the day!” You read the message, and a smile automatically grows on your lips at the nickname.

Deep down, you want to pursue this relationship normally, but you can't help but want to know more about him as fast as possible. If he ever found out you follow him almost every day and that you got this job just to be closer to him, he would probably be freaked out and leave. But you would never let that happen.

When Monday rolls in, you jump out of bed with extra energy, excited to start this new job. You did apply to be closer to Jay, but the opportunity is genuinely attractive. Being the manager can't be much different from what you've done before, since you used to be responsible for the café all the time due to the many months you'd worked there.

So, you put on a black suit and a thin white blouse with the first two buttons undone, exposing your chest. On your feet, you wear some comfortable low heels, and you put on your favorite perfume. Causing a good first impression is the most important part. With one last look in the mirror, you leave your apartment and take the subway that drops you closer to the building.

Stepping inside the familiar building feels good; the thrill of the challenges makes you speed up with excitement. As soon as the doorman sees you, he comes by and hands you your key card so you can finally have access inside. On the other side of security, an older lady is waiting to show you around the whole coffee space.

She excitedly shows you around, starting with the sitting area and then moving to the kitchen. It’s equipped with the latest machines and hardware, making you wish you'd come here earlier. After the tour, you have a meeting to discuss your duties and meet all the employees, who are girls in their early twenties. They seem responsible and hardworking, and that’s all they need to be to keep you satisfied.

Lunchtime comes faster than you realize, and soon the entire morning is over. As you sit inside the small office behind the kitchen, you notice you haven't eaten anything yet, so you walk to the counter and snatch a small slice of apple pie and an iced coffee. But before you can turn around and go back to your office, a familiar voice calls out to you:

“YN? What are you doing here?” Jongseong asks, surprised, his eyes admiring your frame.

“I work here.” You watch as his face turns confused.

“Wait, the place you told me about is… here?”

“Yeah.” A silence settles for a few moments before you remember you need to act like you didn’t know he was going to be here. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I work here too. I mean, in the offices above, but yeah.” You open your mouth, faking surprise.

“There is no way! This has to be destiny,” you joke, smirking at him.

Jay shakes his head and smiles. “Yeah, let’s call it destiny.”

“I have to go back to work. There’s a bunch of paperwork to go through,” you complain, trying your best to sound bored.

“I understand. I’ll see you around.”

You wave at him one last time before walking back to the office. Closing the door behind you, you sit down on the tall chair, your mind making new plans to learn just a little more about your crush. Jay looked extra good today, wearing a full black suit and shirt, complementing his black hair. While your mind wanders back to his handsome face, you find yourself working automatically.

The rest of the day passes by incredibly slowly, and by the third hour alone in the office, you decide you need somewhere else to work. So, you grab your stuff and walk to the sitting area of the café, choosing a corner seat with a clear view of the exit so you can see when Jongseong leaves.

Just as you predicted, Jay appears at the exit a few hours later, and when his eyes meet yours, he waves goodbye and leaves. You know exactly how long it takes him to get to his car—four minutes—so you stand up, clear your stuff, and leave the building.

Today is the day you find out where he lives.

Since you came by subway, you need to find a taxi soon, and as if the universe is on your side, an old man stops right by you. You get inside and ask him to follow Jay’s car, faking a story that he’s your husband, and you think he’s cheating on you. The poor old man swallows your story and eagerly follows Jay. A few minutes pass, and as Jay starts parking, you tell the kind old man to drop you off. He shows you a sympathetic smile and tells you to be strong.

You leave the taxi with a stupid smile, not believing how well you lie. From the corner of the street, hiding behind a tall brick wall, you watch Jay grab his usual work bag and walk toward a very luxurious house, tall trees lining the front gate and surrounding the property. How can a lawyer afford this kind of house? You wonder. There is something he isn’t telling you.

Patiently wait for him to get inside the house before slowly crossing the street and walking closer. Curiously, you take a stroll around the house, your eyes carefully analyzing each door and window, making sure to avoid being seen. You catch a glimpse of him in the living room, taking off his blazer and then throwing himself onto the sofa, legs spread and shirt half unbuttoned.

The sight makes your body heat rise and your mouth water. Jongseong always looks so manly and confident, causing your obsession to grow. You leave him for a few moments to study the area and think about a good place to park your car next time you come to see him. You didn’t drive today, so he wouldn’t recognize your car if he ever spotted it while you were watching him.

You don’t like to call it stalking. You’re just looking after him, making sure he isn’t lying to you about his life. Your eyes dart up to the sky, and you realize it’s getting dark. For your safety, you decide to head home and be done for the day. You take one last round around the house before leaving, and to your surprise, Jay is no longer visible in any of the windows. Not even his shadow in the bathroom's opaque glass. Despite finding it a little strange, you start walking down the main road, planning to take the bus back home.

A month passes incredibly fast between learning your new position at work and watching Jay almost every day at his house. You find yourself enjoying managing the café more than you thought you would. Taking care of the employees, making sure everything is well done, and checking the weekly supply orders. It is definitely easier than dealing with rude customers.

You have also surprisingly enjoyed watching Jay eat his dinner at home almost every day while you silently eat something from the outside, as if you are eating together. You notice he has a very strict routine. He comes home, watches TV for an hour, then prepares dinner and eats. After that, he goes to his office, works a little more, and then goes to sleep.

You have watched him undress his work clothes and change into his pajamas a few times, but it still catches you by surprise every time. His body is well-built and proportional for someone who doesn't seem to work out. He has muscular arms and a lean frame. And his Calvin Klein boxers never fail to make you squeeze your thighs together, unable to control your mind from imagining all the possible steaming scenarios with him.

You can almost see yourself on your knees in front of his king-sized bed, face to face with his boxers, eyes locked on his as he gently brushes your bottom lip with his thumb and forces himself inside your mouth. You wouldn’t mind him being a little rough. All you want is to please him, to watch his face drip with sweat as you work hard to make him cum.

It hasn't been easy to keep your thoughts pure around him since you've been eating lunch together every day. Every time his dark brown irises meet yours, there is an unspoken desire that makes your body shiver. You feel his eyes linger on your chest when you're having a conversation, and the truth is you open an extra button every time he comes around, on purpose to give him a show.

You can also feel his eyes burn into your waist and thighs every time you bend down to get something from the ground, and you love it so much. You love feeling desired by him. You love the feeling of his hungry gaze on you. You're sure he can see how your breathing quickens every time he accidentally brushes against you, pressing his hips into yours when squeezing past the counter to follow you to your office.

The way he always leans in the door frame, his seductive eyes and addicting cologne invading your office, makes it impossible not to think about him even when he’s gone. And today is no different. You're sitting across from him in the building’s cafeteria. The atmosphere is calm and comfortable as the people around you chat and laugh.

As you put a bunch of glass noodles into your mouth, your eyes wander to the big TV on the wall. The same words flash across the screen again, and that unsettling feeling spreads across your body like wildfire. Another man is missing. That makes it three people in three months. Your mind wanders to how the police are doing absolutely nothing to look for them, just showing their faces in hopes someone has seen them.

“They should probably start looking for their dead bodies, no?” you comment in a low voice, your eyes now flicking in Jay’s direction.

“What?” he asks, sounding uninterested, covering his mouth as he speaks to keep chewing his food.

“The missing men and the girl. They should probably look for their dead bodies, right? I mean, it’s been three months since the first girl went missing.” You explain your point, uncomfortably shoving around the rest of your food.

“Maybe. I don't know,” Jongseong replies, his voice avoidant and deep.

The silence that follows feels suffocating, making it hard to finish your meal, but you eventually do. Jay finishes his food faster than you, then stands up and gives you a quick “see you later” before leaving the table. You find his behavior odd, but you already felt uneasy yourself, so you figure you could also use some extra time alone.

The end of the day rolls by incredibly slowly, and you find yourself exhausted. You consider skipping your usual routine of watching Jay tonight, but something in your gut tells you to go. Despite the exhaustion weighing you down, you change into black clothes and drive to his house.

As usual, you turn off the engine and stay inside the car for a few minutes, making sure he isn’t around, and it’s safe to leave. But as your eyes scan the road, you notice that Jay’s car isn’t in the driveway like it usually is. Intrigued and with a strange gut feeling, you decide to stay right where you are. The tiredness slowly starts to get to you, your eyes growing heavier by the minute.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, the sound of a car passing by wakes you up. You focus the second you notice it’s Jongseong’s car, but unlike usual, he opens the gates and parks inside his house. You wait just a few more minutes before stepping outside, making sure he’s already in the house when you move.

You walk slowly to the front of the house, making sure no one can see you behind the plants lining the street. Your eyes follow his movements inside, from the hall to the bathroom and then to his bedroom. You glance at your wristwatch and realize it’s already on a.m., and this isn’t normal for Jay. He’s always home by eight and follows the same routine every day.

Outside, you peek around the corner and move to the bedroom side of the house. Between the curtains, you watch him start to undress. He’s wearing something unusual—black pants, a long black T-shirt, and a baggy black hoodie on top. Your brows furrow as your eyes travel along his body. There are dark, sticky stains on the side of his jaw and his forearms. From this distance, you can’t quite tell what it is, but it sends a strange feeling crawling up your spine.

For a brief moment, curiosity gets the best of you, and you lean forward, but you slip and fall against the bushes. You let out a faint, panicked sound, but you think you’re safe. Jongseong is close to the window, his eyes scanning the area, but he doesn’t see you. After a few tense moments, you carefully watch him move back to the center of the room.

Jay never thought he would feel this way, threatened and scared. He’d noticed a different car in his neighborhood, one that was never in the same spot in the morning, but he thought he was just seeing things. Now that he’s seen you, it all makes sense. He can’t believe you would do something like this, after all; he thought you were a naive person.

He knows that if he acts any differently than usual, you’ll probably realize you were seen, so he tries his best to give you a good show. Jongseong starts by slowly taking off the rest of his clothes, letting his hands brush against his bare abs longer than usual. He can’t see you, but he’s sure you’re there because he can feel your eyes on his body.

Jongseong then turns his back to the window and slips his boxers off, something he’s never done before. He takes his time reaching for the clean boxers on his bed, dragging out the moment before sliding them on just as slowly. When they’re finally secured around his waist, he turns back around and stretches, his muscles flexing under his skin.

Maybe he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but if you came all the way here, he might as well make it worth it. After his little seductive show, he lays down on his bed and turns off the lights. As his head rests against the cold pillow, he wonders how long you’ve been doing this and how long you usually stay. Despite his tired and sore body, sleep doesn’t come easily, as the strange sensation of being watched still lingers.

After a few restless minutes, Jay figures it’s time to stop hiding the truth and finally tell you everything. Since you seem to be just as crazy as him, it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

The next day, the same routine with Jay follows. He waits for you by the cafeteria door so you can eat lunch together. When you start walking in his direction, he waves and smiles, seemingly happy to see you.

“Hey!” You greet him excitedly.

“Hello, princess.” He responds, matching your energy.

“Did you sleep well yesterday?” You ask as the two of you walk to the center of the cafeteria to grab your food.

Jay glances at your face, and there it is again, the innocence. Your eyes are big and sweet, and your lips curled into an affectionate smile. He can't believe you’ve been following him all this time.

“I didn’t sleep much, honestly. Bad nightmares kept me awake,” he explains as he reaches for a bowl of kimchi soup.

“Nightmares? They’re the worst. I have a lot of them.” You pout, grabbing a bowl as well.

“I know.”

Jongseong’s words make you quickly turn your face in his direction.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, statistically, women are more likely to have nightmares. So I figured you probably have more than me.”

Though he feels like that was a lame excuse, you seem to take it at face value.

Silence settles between you as you find a table and sit down, enjoying the peace. Despite seeming normal, you’re clearly deep in thought. Your eyebrows furrow as you eat, and your lips occasionally press together in a thin line.

“I have something to ask you.” Jongseong says, pulling you from your thoughts. “I’ve been talking for a while, and I was thinking… would you like to come over tonight? Have dinner with me?”

You’re obviously caught by surprise. He can tell by the blush that spreads across your face. Your eyes seem to sparkle under the ceiling lights, like you’ve been dreaming of this for a long time.

“Of course, I’d love that, Jongseong.” You smile, your heart skipping a beat under his dark iris.

“Good. That’s good,” Jay whispers, more to himself than to you.

Don’t get him wrong. He does have second intentions in asking you this. But he’s also genuinely excited to have a moment alone with you. To get to know you better. For you to get to know him better.

The rest of the day passes teasingly slowly, and when the clock finally hits six, you sprint out of the building to get to the subway as fast as possible. You’re finally taking a step further into the relationship, and you have to make sure you look your best, just for him.

When you get home, you leave your heels at the door and head straight for the bathroom. You take a long shower, using the expensive shampoo that leaves your hair smelling divine for days, and lathering yourself in a floral-scented body wash. You want him to lose himself in you the moment he gets close enough to breathe you in.

After the shower, you carefully dry your hair and style it with loose curls. Then, you put on the black dress that has been sitting in the back of your closet for years. It’s made of a thin, slightly heavy material that clings to your curves despite its loose fit. To finish, you slip on your red bottoms and fasten a dainty silver necklace around your neck.

Checking the time, you realize it’s almost eight, the time Jay asked you to arrive. He sent you his address by text, little knowing how familiar you already are with it. You arrive faster than intended, so you stay in your car for a few extra minutes, reapplying your lipstick and taking a deep breath.

After convincing yourself that you look good enough, you walk to the pavement near his house and send him a text, telling him to come outside since you don’t know which house is his. Jay responds almost immediately and appears within seconds. You watch as he steps out the front door, making his way toward the gate.

“Here, love,” Jay calls to you in the sexiest tone you’ve heard from him yet. You flash him a smile and walk toward him.

Jongseong watches your every move, mesmerized by the way you look. You always look good, but today you really took your time to drive him crazy. His eyes flicker down to your chest as it bounces with each step, lost in the sight of you. He thinks about dragging the truth out just a little longer, just enough to touch you. But he’s waited long enough.

“You look so handsome, Mr. Jongseong.” You flirt as you walk past him, your eyes accentuated by dark makeup.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he responds, throwing you one of his signature side glances, the ones he knows make you shy.

And the way you turn your head away to hide a smile? He finds it cute how well he knows you.

You both walk into the house in silence, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

You carefully analyze every detail of the place, finally being able to take it all in up close. As expected, Jay has great taste in interior decor. The house is eclectic yet meticulously clean. As you stepped further inside, the sound of your heels echoed through the empty space, reflecting the rapid beat of your heart.

Suddenly, you feel Jay’s presence behind you, his figure still towering over you despite your heels. You turn your head slightly to the side, trying to follow the movement of his hands. He gently takes hold of your blazer sleeve, his eyes locked onto yours. First, one side slips off, then the other. Soon, he’s holding your jacket in his hands.

You turn to watch him hang it up. “Thank you, Jay,” you say softly. You're breathing unsteady from his faint touch.

“You’re welcome, princess. Shall we go to the kitchen?”

Jay guides you with his hand resting lightly on your lower back. When you step into the modern-style kitchen, you’re caught off guard by the dim lighting, the red rose petals scattered across the table, and the expensive champagne. Your eyes widen at the sight, the romantic gesture making you crave him even more.

“Woah, Jay, this is beautiful!” You exclaim, turning to look at the mastermind behind it all.

He gives you a proud smile, his small dimples appearing. “You deserve all of this.”

Jongseong steps closer, his intoxicating scent invading your senses. His hands settle on your hips, but his eyes never leave yours. The warmth of his touch seeps through your skin, sending heat through your entire body.

“Let’s sit down and eat.” He suggests, his head tilting slightly.

“Sure.” You respond, breathless.

Jay pulls out your chair for you, and your stomach flutters at the gesture. You love these little gentlemanly moves of his. He then circles the table, pouring you a glass of champagne as he begins serving the food.

But suddenly, something inside you shifts. Your breath quickens, and your palms begin to sweat.

What is this feeling?

Deep down, you know. It’s the same feeling that overwhelms you when you see the faces of missing people on TV. A warning. A bad omen.

Jay doesn’t notice the shift in your mood, too focused on making your plate look perfect, wanting to impress you with his cooking skills.

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask suddenly, standing up a little too fast.

“Sure, it’s down the hall, the door on the right.” He gives you a curious look but doesn’t question it.

He could notice the weird way you were walking, as if your legs felt weak, but he tried to ignore it, wanting to follow his plan. Jay waits patiently for you while sitting down at his table, the hot rice and steak steam hitting his nose and making him hungry. But you were taking longer than you usually do, and he found it strange.

You find yourself lost in that immense corridor, or maybe it was the anxiety that was making it harder. You close your eyes and try hard to remember which side Jay said the restroom was, but it's all gone. The corridor is empty, quiet, and haunted, making goosebumps form all over your skin. Your legs fail you for a few seconds, and your body falls forward, towards the wall.

You use your hands to steady yourself, pressing them against the wall as all the oxygen in your lungs seems to fade away. Just as you thought that things couldn't get any worse, you feel something move under your fingers.

Confused, you knock on the wall a few times, and the sound that it makes is dry and loud, as if there were a room behind it. With a little extra stretch, you seem to press the right place, and a small gap forms on the wall. You take two steps back, unsure of what to do, but your intuition is screaming for you to check it out.

You ponder on the possibility for a few minutes, though your heart is telling you to leave this house and never come back. Despite the desperate pleas of your gut, you decide to slide the door just enough so you can step inside and are faced with stairs going down. Due to the lack of light, you let your right hand slide across the cement wall and go down, steadying your body.

Soon you find yourself inside a large basement. It is still rough, with no color or tiles on the wall or on the ground, just plain gray cement. The smell is unpleasantly clean, and instead of bringing you peace, it makes your stomach twist. As you walk further down, you are faced with a large table and a sink, and as you stroll closer, you realize that there is a small ax resting there. It is all clean, despite a few small red stains on the wooden handle.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you cover it to try to keep quiet, but it doesn't do much, because when you turn to your side, what you see is even worse.

“What the hell is this?” you whisper to yourself as you step closer.

Before you is a big whiteboard filled with pictures of you and things related to you. You notice a picture of your apartment, one of your car, one of you walking by your main window, and one of your old workplace. As your eyes wander more, you recognize the faces of three people. They are pictures of the missing people, and they have a red cross on top of them.

Your mouth dries out, and your heart starts to beat uncontrollably fast against your rib cage. Fear takes over your body, and you start to shake, the adrenaline pumping hard.

“Oh, you're here already? I thought we were having dinner first.” Jay’s voice says its mocking tone, sending shivers down your spine.

Your head turns to him, and you watch how he slowly walks over to you, his face a mix of seriousness and something else you can't quite identify.

“What... what is all of this?” you stutter, your voice failing you.

“This is my master plan, YN,” Jongseong confesses. “I know you thought you were the one who had this under control, but I did. I made it all happen, princess.”

“I don't... I don't understand. You've been stalking me?” you ask with a strangled voice, your throat closing up.

“It's way more than that. Can’t you see it?” Jay adds, feeling annoyed. “I made everything happen. You getting that job instead of the other girl, coming there every day and letting you work in my company. I even protected you from creeps and evil men. Look.” He pointed at the two male faces. “Can't you recognize them?” he insists, tapping on the photographs hung on the board.

Now that you think about it, you do recognize the three faces. The woman was the girl who was fighting for your position when you applied for the job at the café where you met Jay. The first male face was from the guy who yelled at you at that same café, and the last one was Munhee’s boyfriend.

“What did you do to them?” you ask as tears start forming in your eyes. No, this can't be real; this can't be happening.

“I killed them all,” Jay responded with a smile. “Aren't you going to say thank you?”

“Say thank you... Are you crazy? What the actual fuck?!” you shout at him, tears silently rolling down your cheeks. But to your surprise, Jongseong just smiles as you yell.

“Yes, you should be thankful. If I hadn't killed that girl, you would never have had that job because she slept with the owner to secure it. The man that shouted at you was pleasurable to kill. After all, he was just a creep addicted to porn. And your coworker's boyfriend? It wasn't just a favor to you, but to the world. That fucker was a pedophile. Besides dating a literal barely adult, he had multiple videos of... you know what.”

You remain silent at his words. Though it is horrifying what he did, he kind of... did something good. They weren't exactly good people, and he just got rid of them for you. There is another shift in the atmosphere, and Jay seems to notice it because he steps closer to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

“Jongseong...”

“Don't act like you weren't obsessive over me as well,” he starts. “I saw you the other night when you fell and made that noise that startled me. And I know you followed me all the way to my company and applied to that job just to be closer to me.” Jay shows you a devilish smirk as he watches your cheeks turn red. “I had just killed that pedo when I caught you spying on me. It was a funny coincidence if you ask me.”

“What do you mean,'my company?’ ”You ask, confused.

“I own the building and the advocacy company. I was the one who accepted your candidature for the coffee department.” Jay explains as one of his hands reaches for a stray strand of your hair and puts it behind your ear. “And I did all of this so you can be mine.”

You know this is psychotic and disturbing; you know you should be afraid, and yet you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“I have been yours, Jay. All of this was unnecessary,” you try to reason.

“No, don't you get it? I made you fall for me,” he insists, his hands now holding your face.

“It doesn't matter how it happened. I am yours,” you confess once again, your eyes shifting into something that Jongseong had yet to see.

Slowly, he starts to lean in, his warm breath ghosting against your lips as he holds your face in place. With no more hesitation, his plump lips kiss yours slowly but eagerly. The kiss felt better than all the fantasies you've made in your head, and his tongue was definitely more dominant as it danced with yours, tasting you as if you were his favorite meal. Your hands fly to his hair, and you pull on it gently, earning a sound from him.

“But now, princess,” he whispers against your lips in a low tone, “I have to kill you too since you know all about me.”

Your heart starts beating fast against your rib cage all over again, his indifferent stare making you sweat cold. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, too stunned to form coherent phrases.

Jay watches the way your features turn to fear in a matter of seconds, and he feels disappointed that you believe his words. After all, would he do all of this just to end up killing you?

“I’m joking, my love. I would never hurt you, never,” he adds with a smirk that worries you more than calms you down. His thumb caresses your cheek lovingly. “But I am serious about something, though. You can never leave this house ever again. After all, no one but you can know about all of this.”

Jongseong plants a small kiss on your forehead, and before you can realize what he said, it is too late. He was several steps away from you, and as you ran up the stairs behind him, he closed the invisible door, locking you inside the basement. Panic takes over your whole body that instant, and you bump against the door with all the strength you have, but it's useless.

As you slump down the door, tears start to form in your eyes, and you break down crying.

Jay listens to your sobs from the other side of the door. And though it makes his heart ache, it's necessary to make sure that you would never tell anyone about what he did. The playlist he made for the night is still playing as he sits down alone in the kitchen and starts to eat. His thoughts travel to the future, where you would freely walk around the house, waiting for him to come back from work so he can take care of you as no one else can.

As he sings the lyrics of the song with the feeling, ‘Love’s the death of peace of mind,’ he finds himself agreeing with them. Because ever since he laid his eyes on you, he was never at peace again.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie @vixensss @ro-diares @hoonvinx @immelissaaa @jiryunn @quilevyt @vrusha01 @kkamismom12 @skzenhalove @theothernads @moonpri @nicoleparadas @fightqueen @heesunghooney @starl0ver4 @jooniesbears-blog @k1arar3 @riri-lvs-food @kolawnk @mitmit01 @dummyf @tender-is-the-moon @dksfml @tobiosbbyghorl @loveydoveyez @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @hhyvsstuff @moondooll @enchantedtomeetyou @desistay @filmofhybe

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

#enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen thriller #enha #jay #park jongseong #enhypen angst #jay angst #jat x reader #engene #enhypen smau #slow burn #stalker au #enhypen hard hours #strangers to lovers

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multific · 1 day ago

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Close Quarters

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: An injury leads you to a safe house with Simon. In there, you are forced to face your feelings for the Lieutenant.

The cabin wasn’t much.

A single room, a battered couch, a fireplace. It was a temporary refuge, a hiding place in the middle of nowhere, and it was just the two of you.

Simon Riley wasn’t much for company.

He had been silent for most of the night, except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

His mask was still on, his broad frame looming in the dim light as he paced near the window, keeping watch like the soldier he was.

You were injured, nothing too severe, but enough that travelling through the storm outside wasn’t an option.

“I don’t bite,” you said, breaking the silence, and shifting on the couch. “You can sit down.”

His shoulders tensed. He was always like this, always cautious, even when it was just you. You had fought side by side before and had saved each other more times than you could count, but being this close and alone felt different.

After a long moment, he finally sighed and sat in the chair across from you, the wood creaking under his weight.

“How’s the leg?” His voice was rough and low, the concern buried beneath layers of detachment.

You flexed your ankle slightly, wincing at the dull pain. “Better. You did a good job patching me up.”

He grunted again, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something softer, unreadable.

Silence settled between you, the only sound of the wind howling outside.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, suppressing a shiver.

Simon noticed. He always noticed. With a sigh, he stood, grabbed another blanket from the small cot in the corner, and walked over. Instead of handing it to you, he draped it over you himself, his hands brushing against you briefly.

“Can’t have you freezing to death on my watch,” he muttered, stepping back.

You looked up at him, heart skipping. “And here I thought you didn’t care.”

Something flickered in his eyes again, something hesitant. He didn’t answer immediately, just stood there, watching you. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Course I care.”

Your breath caught.

He never said things like that, never admitted to anything, and yet, here he was, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’re always looking after me,” you murmured.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Someone has to.”

Your fingers twitched against the blanket, resisting the urge to reach for him.

But then, as if sensing your hesitation, he surprised you. He sat down beside you, shifting awkwardly like he wasn’t sure how to be this close. The couch dipped under his weight, his thigh brushing yours.

“Get some rest,” he said, voice quieter now. “I’ll keep watch.”

For once, you didn’t argue.

Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, testing the boundary between you. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

After a moment, you felt him shift slightly, adjusting so you were more comfortable.

It was a small thing, barely anything at all.

But to you, it was everything.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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nolita-fairytale · 2 days ago

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and for us, it won't be long | joaquin torres x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: after joaquin's accident, you reconnect with your childhood friend

warnings: hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, eventual smut, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers

word count: 2.7k

a/n: so i think this is a small cute mini series of exactly 3 parts. i haven't written a fic in a while so this is wild but i'm happy to be here. the title of this fic is from baynk's song, grin.

You watch him fall out of the sky on national television, the footage juxtaposed with an exterior shot of the Walter Reed Military Medical Center that’s got been stock footage, resulting in the world’s worst case of emotional whiplash. The news anchor’s voice is clear—reassuring, even—as he explains the situation:

An accident involving the Falcon.

In critical condition.

The new Captain America at his side.

Hopeful.

It’s the word he keeps repeating.

The doctors are hopeful.

But his words are lost on you, traveling in through one ear and out through another. In a state of shock, you’re only able to comprehend bits and pieces because watching the man you’ve known for most of your life soar through the air—not to mention, in flames—and plummet straight into the Indian Ocean, makes you feel like you’re going to pass out.

It’s not like you expect for him to pick up—but you’re calling Joaquin’s phone, your heart practically beating out of your chest like he could—because there isn’t much else you feel like you can do. Besides, if, when he wakes up, you want him to know that you’ll be there.

You get his voicemail.

Of course.

But you can’t sit with this alone.

So you call your mom. And then his. And then three of you hold each other through the phone like he held your father all five years through The Blip.

And when all is said and done, after days of agonizing nothingness, you get a text from his mother saying:

He’s going to be okay.

It’s the seventh time in the last ten minutes that Sam sees the screen of Joaquin’s phone flash upwards toward the hospital ceiling, signaling that he’s got yet another notification.

“You should give ‘em a call,” Sam encourages.

Joaquin shoots a quizzical look to the man he’s looked up to his whole life, as Sam nods towards the cell phone once again, clarifying his previous statement with: “Your family, Torres. And whoever else’s been blowin’ your phone all day.”

His face falls.

The doctors had called to let his family know that he had made it through a successful surgery, and that he was going to be okay, but he hadn’t reached out just yet. Hell, he was almost grateful that his phone had been dead for days, crossing his fingers that the hospital wouldn’t find a spare charger. But then Sam came in this morning, brand new phone charger in hand, forcing Joaquin to return to reality: an overwhelm of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t-, I… I don’t want to worry them,” Joaquin hesitates, the disappointment in himself evident in how cautious he is. It’s why he’s been putting it off. He can’t seem to beat the nagging feeling that he should’ve done some differently—something so he didn’t have to make this kind of call.

But he knows he’ll have to face the music sooner or later.

“What-? What do I say? What am I supposed to tell them?” he asks earnestly, searching the face of his mentor for any kind of guidance.

“Tell ‘em you’re gonna be okay,” Sam replies gently, the reassurance in his words allowing the obvious to land a little softer than it would had he chosen a different path. Joaquin nods slowly in response, reaching for the phone on his hospital bedside table.

With a sigh and a heaviness he can’t yet name, Joaquin begins to scroll through the notifications. While he expects to see calls and texts from his parents, extended family members he hasn’t spoken to in years, he doesn’t expect to see 5 missed calls and 3 texts from you.

Sam watches carefully as a look of surprise washes over his friend, colleague, and wingman’s face, and there’s something different about his reaction when his thumb hovers over your messages.

“I’ll give you a few minutes, man,” Sam bows out, respectfully.

When Joaquin finally texts you, it’s just a stupid GIF of a zombie rising from the grave. You’re less than amused by his humor at a time like this, but your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest as you see that the notification is from him. 2:08 pm

You: Not funny, asshole! We’ve all been worried sick. 2:10 pm

Joaquin: 😣You talked to my mom?!

2:15 pm

You: 🖕Fuck off. You know Lydia likes me more than you.

2:16 pm

Joaquin: 💔

Savage.

2:16 pm

I’m jk. Mom told me how wonderful you’ve been with her and Dad. Thank you. 🙏

2:22 pm

You: I’m just glad you’re okay.

2:30 pm

Joaquin: 😅

2:30 pm

You: Can I call you later?

2:31 pm

Joaquin: Yeah :)

You’ve never been this girl: the girl that waits by the phone for some guy to text her.

But in the days following Joaquin’s accident, you have to remind yourself that the fact that you’re practically glued to your phone waiting for updates is just a result of the fact that you could’ve lost him.

Besides, he’s not just some guy. It’s Joaquin: he’s the neighborhood kid you grew up with, the sweet seventeen year-old boy who took you to your senior prom, and the man that both of your mothers still swear to this day that you’ll marry.

It’s Captain America—Sam, he insists that you call him—who eventually puts you out of your misery by inviting you to see Joaquin, when he notices his wingman’s recovery is going better and better all thanks to his mysterious pen pal.

“I know kids these days can’t get off their phones, but something’s telling me there’s a cute girl on the other end, Buck,” Sam mentions over the phone one day, when the latter asks him about Joaquin’s recovery. “Hey, I’m not mad at it! Seems like it’s helping him.”

“Kid’s gotta girl?” Bucky asks from somewhere along the campaign trail, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he inquires further. “There’s only one way to find out,” Sam shrugs with a little mischief in his voice.

It’s not hard to swipe Joaquin’s phone, considering his recovery still requires lots and lots of rest. The last thing you had expected that day was a call from Captain America himself—from Joaquin’s phone, no less—asking you to come to DC to reunite with your childhood friend.

What’s even more shocking is the fact that it’s Sam Wilson himself, who’s there to meet you at the hospital. You try to keep your cool as you introduce yourself, but you can’t shake the giddy feeling of excitement that fills you upon meeting the Avenger you and Joaquin used to see on TV. He leads you down the long hospital hallways, warning you quietly that Joaquin was pretty badly injured, and he may have a little more wear and tear than you expected.

You don’t mean to gasp, but your sharp intake of breath upon seeing him in his hospital bed isn’t exactly subtle. Your eyes trace over him worriedly, as you take in the burn scars on his neck and the still-healing cuts and scrapes on his face. It’s the moment you realize that, since making the choice to join The Avengers, your superhero friend is not so invincible.

“What’re you-?” Joaquin balks, speechless at the sight of you. He looks from you to Sam, then back to you, before returning to Sam once more, his eyes landing on the man like he’s Benedict Arnold. “Sam, you didn’t-. How did you-? You called her?!”

“Wasn’t hard to swipe your phone when you need a nap every 2 hours,” Sam replies casually, as if he isn’t acting like the world’s most embarrassing dad right now. “And I got tired of watching you wait by the phone all day for your girl to finally text you.”

“Oh my god!” Joaquin groans, at the very same time you let out a:

“Oh he’s not my-!”

“Dude, we’re not-,” Joaquin gestures towards you in a panic, as he searches for the right words, saying a silent prayer that he can get out at least one full-finished sentence. “I’m not like, waiting by the phone but It’s not like I can go anywhere right now, man!” Sam chuckles only to be met with a very dramatic eye roll from Joaquin as he tries to defend himself.

“Listen, we’re old friends. We’ve just been catching up,” he tries to explain again, gesturing towards you once more.

Sam smirks, uttering an unconvinced, “Sure. Well, whoever she is or isn’t to you… seems like she’s been helping your recovery. Thought it couldn’t hurt.”

You laugh, exchanging a look with Joaquin.

“I still can’t believe you called her,” Joaquin shakes his head, still trying his best to process this.

“Well, of course he called me, Torres, considering you’ve always been shit at asking for help,” you finally chime in, with a ball-busting attitude he’s missed.

“Oh shit,” Sam says, looking from you back to Joaquin as he waits for a reaction.

Joaquin grins, gearing up to explain: “When she feels threatened, she has a tendency to lash out.”

Sam chuckles.

“Feisty. I like it," he smirks with a nod of approval. And he knows that this that’s his cue. It’s time to give you kids some time alone. “Imma step out for a second. You guys… catch up. Or whatever.”

You press your lips together, stifling another laugh, and waiting a beat as Sam disappears.

“Dude,” you start, taking a few steps closer to Joaquin, with a look of disbelief.

“Dude,” Joaquin mimics you, unable to hide the smile on his face upon seeing you.

“That’s like… Captain America,” you nod towards the hallway as you take a few more steps forward.

“I know,” Joaquin says back, an excitement between the two of you.

“Captain fucking America,” you emphasize..

You’ve really been doing the best to keep your cool, but you’re not sure you can contain it any longer.

“I know!” he fanboys with you this time, because Joaquin still can’t believe this is real either.

That he works with Sam Wilson. That he’s Captain America’s wingman. That you’re here, in DC, with him.

It’s as if a piece of home has joined him for the first time in a long time in this new chapter of his life.

The two of you exchange another smile and a wave of relief washes over you.

You take a beat and one step closer to him, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. You shake your head and this time, the expression on your face goes from soft to a much more hardened and worried look.

“Joaquin,” you start, the tone of your voice a warning enough.

“Oh God,” he sighs, recognizing that tone.

“I could kill you,” you threaten, the next part reinforcing his more than accurate evaluation of you from earlier. “But clearly you don’t need my help.”

“Well, I did technically die,” he parries, light heartedly.

“Joaquin!” You interject, your voice going up in pitch as you cut him off.

“What? You scared you’d miss me or something?” he teases, meeting your fire with his.

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff, with a shake of your head. “It’s not-, don’t joke about that! It’s not funny!”

“Didn’t you just threaten me with-?” he continues, knowing all the buttons to press.

“Yeah, but it’s different when I-. Didn’t you just say that I have a tendency of lashing out when I feel threatened?” you snap, the worry in your voice enough to get him to stop.

You sigh, your eyes scanning him once more, because maybe it would be easier if he really were invincible.

You take a beat, and the two of you share a full silence between you. It’s comfortable, yet filled with ‘what ifs’ neither of you want to acknowledge.

“I can’t believe Sam stole my phone and called you,” Joaquin shakes his head this time, groaning again because Captain America really should be renamed to America’s Most Embarrassing Dad for this. “How did you get here so fast, anyway? My parents won’t even arrive till tomorrow.”

“Oh I uh-. Well, you’ve been busy saving the world so I haven’t exactly been able to tell you,” you reply, realizing that it hadn’t even come up in conversation via text yet. “I moved to Philly a few months ago.”

“Philly?” Joaquin asks, a little surprised, because he’s not sure he could picture you anywhere that has a properly cold Winter season. “Yeah,” you chuckle, immediately recognizing his look. “I had to buy my first Winter coat this year but… the trade off is that I’m only an hour train ride away from you now.”

His face lights up as soon as you spell it out for him.

“Well, my parents are coming in tomorrow. Are you-, think you’ll be around?” he asks, hopefully.

“Do you want me to be?” you ask in return.

He nods, “Yeah. Think they’d like to see you.” “Okay,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay.”

A beat.

And another silence between the two of you, one that feels much heavier than the last.

“You could’ve died, Joaquin,” you state quietly.

“I know,” he replies, the guilt evident in his voice.

You could’ve-,” you begin to repeat, your voice breaking this time.

“I know,” he says again, much firmer as he reassures you. “But I didn’t. And we’re here now.”

He reaches for your hand, and you’re almost angry with the way your body betrays you. With tears in your eyes you look back at him, shaking your head.

“Goddamit,” you swear with a small laugh. “You’re the one who gets hurt yet you’re here comforting me.”

He shakes his head this time, squeezing your hand as he smiles, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” A beat. “But I’m still gonna kill Sam.”

You laugh, wiping a few tears out of your eyes with your free hand.

“And yeah. I would,” you finally admit, your voice soft.

“Hm?” Joaquin asks, his lashes heavy as he blinks, taking you in.

“I would really, really miss you,” you answer, a vulnerability in your voice this time that you’re quick to put an end to. “So don’t fucking do this shit again!”

Joaquin laughs as he squeezes your hand once more, knowing it’s not a promise he can make to either of you.

9:45 am

Joaquin: Mom and Dad left yesterday and Mom told me to tell you that she misses you already.

10:01 am

You: You can just admit that you miss me already.

10:03 am

Joaquin: 🤐

Thanks though. I think they’re a little less worried now that they know you’re close by.

10:08 am

You: How’s it going?

10:13 am

Joaquin: Good! I got discharged a few days ago and am heading to Wakanda in a few weeks.

New suit! 🦸

The last time you see me can’t be in a hospital gown.

10:15 am

You: I don’t know why you’d say that! It’s a great look for you.

10:20 am

Joaquin: 🙄

Guess I should’ve swiped one from the hospital to wear all the time.

What’re you doing next weekend?

10:21 am

You: Nothing. What’s up?

10:30 am

Joaquin: What do you think about me coming to Philly?

10:31 am

You: To visit me? Or just because?

10:32 am Joaquin: Yes to visit you 😆

Thought we could hang out before I go.

10:33 am

You: Yeah! I know it’s only an hour train ride in and out, but I’ve got a super comfy couch you can crash on if you want.

So that’s an option.

The next text you receive is a selfie of him, wearing a plain grey crewneck sweater.

You laugh. The guy loves a good selfie.

10:40 am

Joaquin: 1 photo attached

Rocky ain’t ready for this

10:43 am

You: LOL

Please don’t tell me you’re coming to Philly so you can recreate the Rocky training montage.

And if you’re wondering, I will not be partaking. You’re on your own with that one.

But yeah, I’d be happy to host you!

10:48 am

Joaquin: Deal.

I’ll call you later. We can work out the details :)

11:00 am

You: Deal :)

#joaquin torres x reader #captain america brave new world #danny ramirez #joaquin torres #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #the falcon #the new falcon

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riddleswhcre · 3 days ago

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────۶ৎ his hunger, your ruin

tom riddle doesn’t just want your blood—he wants to ruin you, break you, and fill you until you know you’re his.

warnings: smut, vampire!tom, bloodplay, creampie, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, degradation, possessiveness.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: this wouldn’t exist without my love marleen, who first blessed us with the vampire!tom. all credit for this deliciously dark concept goes to her, so go lose your mind over her au + fic. show her all the love and tom might just pay you a visit in the night x

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

his breath is cool against your throat, a ghost of a touch that makes you shiver beneath him. ‘pretty thing,’ he murmurs, voice like silk laced with something darker, something more dangerous. ‘mine.’

you whimper, thighs already trembling where they’re spread around him, the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your slick folds. he hasn’t pushed in yet, just letting the tip tease you, smearing your arousal over himself. he loves this—loves watching you squirm, watching the way your body betrays you.

‘needy little thing,’ he taunts, dragging a single, sharp fang along your pulse point. you jolt, body arching up, but he pins you down, fingers bruising where they dig into your hips. ‘do you have any idea what you do to me? how fucking sweet you smell? i should drain you dry right here, watch you go limp on my cock.’

your breath stutters, a whimper slipping past your lips. and fuck, it only makes him harder, cock twitching against you, precum leaking onto your swollen clit.

‘please,’ you gasp, and that’s all it takes for his control to snap.

he thrusts into you in one brutal motion, splitting you open, a strangled moan tearing from your throat. you can feel him—feel every inch, every ridge, feel the way his cock stretches you, forces your body to take him.

his fingers find your jaw, tilting your head back, exposing your throat. he watches you, eyes blown black with hunger, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

‘so good for me,’ he purrs, rocking into you, dragging his cock along your walls, slow and deep, making sure you feel every fucking inch. ‘so tight. so warm. you were made for me, weren’t you?’

you nod—desperate, delirious, pleasure pooling low in your belly. ‘yes,’ you breathe. ‘yes, tom—’

his teeth sink into your throat.

the pain is sharp, white-hot, and then—bliss. a rush of pleasure so intense your vision blurs, your walls clenching tight around his cock as you cum, a cry tearing from your throat.

he groans, fucking you through it, drinking deep, his hips snapping against yours, chasing his own release. your blood is thick on his tongue, intoxicating, his grip unrelenting as he ruts into you, dragging out every last tremor of your orgasm.

‘so perfect,’ he breathes, pulling back just enough to press his bloodstained lips to yours. ‘so fucking perfect.’

then, with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep, spilling inside you, his body shuddering against yours.

but he’s not done.

‘look at you,’ he breathes, dragging his fingers through the mess between your legs, pushing his own cum back inside you. ‘soaking my cock, full of my cum, and you still want more, don’t you?’

you whimper, but you don’t deny it. can’t. not when your body is still trembling, still burning with the need to be ruined by him.

he smirks—dangerous, sharp. ‘such a needy little thing.’

and then he moves, dragging his cock through your slick folds, teasing your overstimulated clit with the flushed tip before slamming back inside.

the sound that rips from your throat is obscene, high and desperate, tears spilling down your cheeks as he fucks you open again, raw and wrecked.

‘crying already?’ he taunts, thumb swiping away a tear before he shoves it past your lips. ‘s’too much for you, sweetheart? can’t take it?’

you shake your head, tongue flicking over his thumb, sucking it into your mouth.

he groans, jaw tightening. ‘that’s what i fucking thought.’

his hips snap against yours, unrelenting, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the room. he’s deeper this time, fucking you rough, ruthless, possessive, like he’s trying to carve himself into you, ruin you for anyone else.

‘you’re mine,’ he growls, fingers curling around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. ‘mine to fuck, mine to fill, mine to break.’

your walls clench around him, drawing a deep, shuddering moan from his lips.

he loves this—loves watching you unravel, loves knowing you can’t get enough of him, loves knowing you’re his.

his free hand slips between your bodies, fingers rubbing tight, desperate circles over your clit.

‘come on,’ he urges, voice dark and dripping with sin. ‘cum for me again. make a fucking mess, sweetheart.’

your body obeys before your mind can catch up—pleasure slamming into you, knocking the breath from your lungs as you cum, clenching down on him so tight he groans, hips stuttering.

but he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow.

he keeps going, fucking you through it, dragging out every last aftershock until you’re sobbing, thighs shaking, body wrecked.

and still, he keeps fucking you. keeps using you.

‘one more,’ he whispers against your throat, voice thick with hunger. ‘one more, and then i’ll fill you up again.’

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

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rhyrhy · 3 days ago

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Venom in the veins 🕸️

Spider!Ellie x Fem Villain reader

✦ Synopsis: When trust is broken, and alliances shift. Your local friendly neighborhood spiderwoman! is forced to choose between her love and loyalty!

✦ Warnings: enemies to lovers to enemies..? Angst, violence, death/grief , language, romantic tension, familial issues. 5k words.

A/n: thank you to @s0phi3w4lt3n , because their lovely brain is helping make this possible. This is chapters 1-2. (3-7 will be separate posts!) + Ellie’s suit desc is based off this beautiful art!

October 5th

I guess I finally understand what it means to wear the weight of something bigger than yourself.

Nobody tells you how lonely this gets. They say it’s a responsibility. A privilege. But nobody warns you about the nights when your body’s so sore you can’t move, or when you have to smile at people who would hate you if they knew the whole truth.

And the worst part? I should’ve seen it coming.

I should’ve known the second I woke up with a spider bite the size of a penny and a bad feeling in my gut.

But I was just a dumb kid clinging to Joel’s leg in the ER, sure I was about to drop dead…

Being a hero wasn’t as simple as they made it look in the comics she read. It wasn’t just about the mask—it was about juggling the power, the responsibility, and the weight of knowing that, at any moment, everything could come crashing down.

And in the end? It was always a game of masks. Who’s hiding behind them, and who’s fooling who?

Ellie wasn’t the best at keeping secrets.

Especially not when she had a spider bite the , wrapped in white gauze and held together with SpongeBob bandages that did little to ease her nerves. Her pain tolerance wasn’t exactly low, but weren’t black widows deadly? She could still feel the long-gone venom burning in her bloodstream—or maybe she just thought she did.

“Joel, I’m too young to die!” A younger Ellie whined, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung to his leg.

“You aren’t dying. They said you’ll be sore at most.” He sighed, patting her head.

“Dramatic” wasn’t the word he’d use to describe the distraught figure clinging to him like she truly believed her life depended on it. Eleanor “Ellie” Anna Williams, at the ripe age of twelve, gave her adoptive father more wrinkles than he could count.

This time, it wasn’t a scraped knee from wobbly attempts at skateboarding, or a burn on her forearm from trying to make him breakfast. It was a spider bite. She didn’t get a good look when she flung her head after the sting set in, but she was almost certain what that eight-legged creature was that had crept onto her hand while she doodled on her notebook in science class.

She rambled about it the whole way from the school’s nursing office to the emergency room. Not even the radio could drown out the frantic girl, who loved all things nature—as long as it wasn’t trying to kill her. She’d just learned to use a training bra. She couldn’t die now.

“I’m not?” she said, her green watery eyes looking up at him.

“No. Weren’t you listening to what the nice lady said? The one in blue scrubs?”

To be honest, she wasn’t. However, she did remember the woman he was referring to—and the way she made her heart race. Even now, as a young adult, Ellie would bring her up when questioned about her gay awakening.

“You’re goin’ to be fine kiddo” He bent down to her level, his Texan accent dragging out his “n”s.

Comforting her had become something Joel mastered over the years. Trying to navigate Ellie’s spectrum between smart mouth and nervous breakdowns wasn’t easy for a man in his early thirties. But he’d found a way to wedge himself somewhere right in the middle—right where she needed him.

If there was one thing Ellie learned quickly, it was that Joel knew best. With legs full of scars and scrapes and a pair of worn-out Converse that Joel begged her to throw away, Eleanor—who preferred just ‘Ellie’—skated into her high school years.

Going from Little Orphan Annie, which she hated when assholes at school called her that, to your average teenager in the big city of Seattle, everything was completely normal.

Except it wasn’t. At all.

In fact, nothing about Ellie was normal. But the unusual started small—extremely small—and Ellie didn’t know any better. At first, she thought it was just the weed she smoked with Jesse still messing with her system.

Because ever since that fateful day in seventh grade, weird, borderline supernatural things had started happening.

She couldn’t tell you exactly how it all started—at least, not without cringing through the many, many journals she kept as a teenager—but somewhere in the mess of scribbled notes and half-finished sketches, there was an entry about a joke gone wrong.

One night, on a dare to see how long she could hold a handstand, Ellie found herself upside down—only she wasn’t just balancing. She was walking. On her ceiling.

The next morning, she convinced herself it was just some weird, half-awake dream. But when she tried it again—yeah, no. She wasn’t dreaming.

“Holy shit!” she blurted out, stumbling back to the ground.

“Language!” Joel’s voice rang out from the living room, blissfully unaware of the very sticky situation unfolding just a few feet away.

Ellie swallowed, staring at her feet. “Holy shit…” she whispered again, this time to herself.

For a while, she tried to ignore it. Between figuring out her sexuality and preparing for an upcoming science fair, she had enough on her plate. So when weird things happened—like catching something mid-fall way too fast or feeling vibrations through the walls—she brushed it off.

But the signs were getting harder to ignore. Especially when she asked Riley if she could hear that sound—

—and Riley just stared at her.

“Hear what?” Riley asked, setting up their volcano project.

“That—” Ellie waved her hand vaguely. “You seriously don’t hear it?”

Riley squinted. “Williams, I love you, but you have absolutely lost it.”

Ellie would’ve argued back, but the sound was coming from three tables down.

“Booger-eater James?” Riley snorted, nodding toward the kid hunched over a glass box of spiders. Not sure how that was science experiment. “He’s just standing there. With his creepy crawlers. I pray for him once we hit eleventh grade—he’s never getting a girlfriend.”

Panic set in—sudden and overwhelming—as her mind spiraled. Was this some weird side effect of the bite? Or was it something worse? She thought about her biological family, about the things she didn’t know, about the one thing she did worry about when it came to her health.

These were crazy person signs, right? Or worse—crazy person genes running through her blood. Torn between telling a school counselor or just locking herself in the bathroom to cry, Ellie excused herself from Riley and approached the table. But the closer she got, the louder the sound became. A crawling, chittering hum that made her stomach flip.

There was no way she was communicating with something that had more than two eyes and eight legs. An arachnid, for crying out loud.

Don’t get her wrong, Ellie loved science. But people who claimed this kind of stuff? They got laughed out of programs. Stripped of titles, accreditations. Blacklisted. Snow White talking to animals was one thing. A teenage girl talking to spiders? That was an entirely different planet.

But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense.

The heightened senses. The weird reflexes. And that bite mark—the one she was so sure would scar? It was completely gone the next morning when her bandage fell off in the shower.

What started as a sneaking suspicion was quickly turning into a daunting realization.

Ellie tried to ignore it. She really, really did.

For the next few weeks, she chalked it up to stress, exhaustion, anything that made more sense than the alternative. But the signs weren’t stopping. If anything, they were getting worse.

The way her body moved before she even had time to think. The way she could feel things that weren’t there—like the vibrations of footsteps before someone entered a room. The way her grip had changed—how she accidentally shattered a glass one night at dinner, how the basketball stuck to her hand a second too long in gym class.

She stopped journaling about it. She stopped mentioning it to Riley. But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. this was so , so much worse than the time she wasn’t allowed to leave the dinner table until she finished her brussels sprouts.

And that was how she found herself standing in front of her bedroom window one night, hoodie zipped up, black Converse laced tight.

Sneaking out wasn’t new to her. She’d done it before. Skating out to meet Jesse, tagging walls in alleyways. But this?

This wasn’t just sneaking out.

That night, she got her first real taste of herself without the skintight suit she now wears like a badge.

Little did she know at the time, how important that near miss would be.

“Glad nobody saw that.” An embarrassed Ellie giggled to herself, standing to her feet after stumbling for the hundredth time.

Parkour always seemed a little odd to her—she preferred her guitar or a late-night reading session, but those seemed to lay still on her bookshelf nowadays. I mean, who wanted to potentially hurt themselves running along buildings, jumping from concrete to concrete, brick to brick? Short answer: she did.

Long answer: the stairwell right behind her apartment building, leading to the city’s rooftops. Mariano’s, her favorite pizza joint that always closed way too early in her opinion, the old library that closed down only to be replaced a few doors down, and the laundromat. Dusting off her jeans, she’d do this for what felt like hours.

The back and forth would make normal civilians sick—feet swollen to hell. But for Ellie, after a fight with Joel about curfew or an unnecessarily long school day, as soon as the sun set, this was her heaven.

She wasn’t normal. She’d established that a long time ago. But it’s not like she could exactly tell people she could do these kinds of things. They’d look at her the way Riley did. A FYI, she was so right about James—after graduation, he still never got a girlfriend.

Ellie, on the other hand, had quite a few up until graduation.

A shared kiss with Riley, a faded stick-and-poke cat the girl in her art class gave her, and her unforgettable first time with the first girl she could truly say she loved: Dina.

To say “fair share” was a bit of an understatement. It was more about quality than quantity. Her building real connections, some still lingering around. Some took the high road, choosing to stay the bitter ex. But Ellie didn’t see it like that. She appreciated the good and the bad, even if she did have to get a real tattoo over that stick-and-poke cat.

But times like these, where she let her feet carry her across the city, were when she was allowed to forget about all that, leave it in the past where it belonged, and focus on the future. But even with her tassel turned, she always found herself in that alleyway, climbing up that same fire escape to get to the roof.

The city lights below flickered like distant stars. So many people, but none of them knew her name. Maybe that was for the best. In this city, the only person Ellie needed to be was herself.

The wind against her skin felt sharper tonight, like she could almost taste the city’s pulse. A distant car honked, but she didn’t hear it the same way anymore. It was all part of the rhythm, the energy that seemed to flow through her, the way the rooftops called her to them.

For now, the rooftops were hers. But she knew, deep down, that wouldn’t last forever. Heroes, villains—one day, someone would come looking for her. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe.

Freshly graduated, Ellie was hanging out with friends at her favorite pizza joint, the smell of pepperoni filling the air, and the sound of laughter ringing in her ears. It was one of those normal, relaxed nights. nothing out of the ordinary. Or at least, it didn’t seem that way at first.

But when a hooded figure paced back and forth in front of their table for the fourth time, Ellie couldn’t help but feel a cold chill run down her spine. Her green eyes snapped to the sound, hands slowly lowering the slice of pizza she’d been about to take a bite of.

“That young man stole my purse!” A woman’s voice broke through the hum of the restaurant, her trembling hands pointing toward the culprit.

Ellie’s green gaze snapped to the man now hurrying down the sidewalk, his steps quick, his movements too frantic. The adrenaline surged through her as she pushed her chair back and stood, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass door. She didn’t wear her mask yet, but the sensation of needing to act was unmistakable.

She couldn’t just let it go.

The man was fast, but he wasn’t fast enough. Ellie darted into the street, weaving between pedestrians like a blur, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the city’s noise. When she reached him, she tackled him with everything she had, the force knocking the purse out of his hand and sending him stumbling backward.

He didn’t stick around to fight back. In a flash, he bolted, disappearing into the shadows before Ellie could react.

She stood there, chest heaving as she clutched the purse in her hands. The woman, now catching up to her, approached with wide eyes.

“You got it back!” The woman gasped, her voice thick with relief.

Ellie smiled awkwardly, handing the purse back to her. “I… I guess I did.” Heart still racing.

Before she could say more, the woman pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie froze, not knowing what to do. She had no idea this small act of kindness would cause a strange warmth to spread through her chest.

“Thank you,” the woman whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

Ellie gently pulled back, her heart still racing. She was pretty sure she was just a regular girl, with no superpowers or any big secret to her name. But in that moment, the feeling of doing the right thing—of helping someone in need—felt bigger than anything she’d ever experienced. Maybe she was crazy. But a little bit of crazy could do good.

And Ellie? She loved justice.

“Bullshit. No way you tackled him like that.” Abby’s voice rang out, interrupting Ellie’s storytelling.

“Alright, maybe I exaggerated a little bit, but I’m telling you, I kicked ass.” Ellie laughed, holding the door open for the tall blonde.

“Uh huh. Sure, Williams.” Abby huffed, walking past her into the bookstore. The familiar chime of the doorbell rang out above them, a small sound that felt like a second home.

Ellie inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting smell of ink and crisp pages being turned. She loved it here, more than the silly pictures of cats online, which, in the Williams world, meant a lot.

Abby, tall and always a step ahead in the teasing department, fell into step beside her. One of the few friends Ellie could confide in. Even if that came with endless ribbing. Ellie could admit that she’d told the “first save” story a million times, but it was one of the few she could tell without giving herself away—without breaking her promise. The promise she made to herself when she officially earned her title as ‘hero.’

But here, in the bookstore, she could nerd out all she wanted. No secrets to hide, no need to pretend. She could throw in the subtle bragging without fear of it getting back to the wrong people.

Ellie wasn’t a huge talker. She preferred humming to herself or getting lost in her own thoughts. As she scrolled past the comic book section, her fingers brushing against the glossy covers of vibrant colors and bubble letters, she was suddenly back in time. A place of nostalgia. Staying up way past her bedtime, reading comics under the covers with a trusty red flashlight.

When the small tv in the corner of the store caught her attention. A new report, crime in the city’s streets. detailing the latest wave of crime sweeping through the city. From petty purse snatching to stolen identities—and sometimes, even lives. It was all too familiar.

“This just in: Another robbery in the city’s streets. Police are still on the lookout for the suspect,” the newscaster announced.

She hated it, the fear in people’s eyes. The feeling of a warm blanket being ripped off all because a few people probably weren’t hugged enough as kids. If anybody knew a rough childhood, it was Ellie, and what she didn’t do was use that and take it out on the world. The last thing she expected years from this moment is trying to be understanding with the one who did.

If anyone knew a rough childhood, it was Ellie. But she didn’t use that as an excuse to lash out at the world.

In fact, the last thing she ever expected, years from this moment, was to try and understand the person behind the violence.

“Jesus, this city’s falling apart,” Abby muttered, her eyes still glued to the screen. “Where are the cops when you need them?”

It made her sick. The injustice. The feeling of helplessness.

“Sometimes, people just need to learn the world doesn’t owe them anything,”

Abby looked over at her, but Ellie kept her eyes on the chaos. The sirens were already wailing in the distance, but they’d never get there in time—not when the damage had already been done. And when the cops finally showed up. Just yellow police, tape and tears.

“Scary, huh?” Abby said, standing beside her, arms crossed. She shot a glance at the scene before turning back to Ellie. “Where are the cops when you need them?”

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, they always show up too late. After the damage’s already done. It’s like they just don’t care enough to stop it before it gets out of hand. Makes you wonder if anyone’s actually doing anything about it.”

Abby sighed in agreement. “Someone should.”

Ellie’s mind wandered then, as it often did in moments like this. She’d seen it all too many times—the heroes who talked big but never seemed to get things done. But the ones who really caught her attention were the ones who operated in the shadows. The ones who didn’t care about fame or recognition.

Her thoughts drifted to The Phantom—a mysterious figure who’d been cleaning up the streets for years. Nobody knew their true identity, and that was the way they liked it. No flashy costumes, no headlines, just quiet, effective justice. They worked in the shadows, out of sight, but the results spoke for themselves.

“Maybe someone like that could show up,” Ellie murmured. “Someone who teaches people the lesson that their actions have consequences. Not just words, but real, lasting consequences.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, casting her a sideways glance. “Wait, are you seriously saying you’d want to be like them? A shadowy figure, handing out justice however you see fit?”

“Maybe. I mean, someone has to.”

And someone did. She did, she had to. things quickly escalated from saving purses to kittens out of trees you name it Ellie was there.

So what about the fabric hung deep in her closet. The one she mentions hundreds of times in her journals throughout the years.

Well, It wasn’t like she had a fancy suit. No, Ellie had to make do. Her costume came from a combination of chance and necessity. Absolutely one of those “it just happened” moments that ended up being so much more.

It started with a hand-me-down.

After one night where she barely managed to escape with a bruised arm and a scraped knee, Ellie found herself on the edge of the city. In a forgotten corner of a local alley, tucked behind an old, unused storage unit, Ellie found a discarded suit. It was a mix of gray, black, and green fabric—more rugged than sleek, a little worn out, but something about it screamed potential. Her hand reached out for it, like she could feel the joy she’d bring with it on her skin.

fit like a second skin. It didn’t stand out too much, which was good; Ellie didn’t want to draw attention, not yet. The colors worked too—gray for blending in, black for stealth, and green because… well, why not? It matched her eyes.

One afternoon, Ellie had found herself standing outside a local store, looking out over the city, when a voice caught her attention. It was a soft voice, one that belonged to a little girl.

“How’d you get up there? You move like a spider.”

Ellie smiled beneath her mask, thinking about the first time she made the jump to scale a building. She was very clumsy, but she’d learned quickly. It was funny, she hadn’t really thought much about it until now. A spider… That’s what had started this whole thing.

The bite she thought would kill her.

“What’s your name, hero?” the little girl asked, her wide eyes.

Ellie hesitated. A name?… A spider? This was a loaded question. But That’s what they called her, wasn’t it? She was just some kid trying to do right by the world.

“Spider… uh… girl… woman!” She blurted out, almost embarrassed. Hoping it sounded cool, so in the moment, she went with it.

“Spider Woman. Yeah, that’s it.”

She didn’t mind the title. It was fitting, simple.

Spider-woman. Silly, right? It sounded like something out of the DC Comics stacked in her room. And she loved it.

The name was sung like gospel on the news, printed in bold ink for those who still bothered with newspapers.

On one channel, a reporter stood in front of a cityscape, microphone in hand.

“The masked vigilante, called ‘Spider-Woman’ by the public, continues to stir-up debate. Some call her a hero, while others question if she’s just another masked threat. We hit the streets of Seattle to hear what the people really have to say.”

Cop, off duty: “Look, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them. Vigilante or not, she’s got a record, and that means trouble.”

Masked kid in a homemade costume: “She’s like, a ninja or something! I think she’s cool!”

Teen girl with dyed hair: “She’s kind of badass, not gonna lie.” She shrugged.

younger woman with a toddler: “Are you kidding? She’s the only one out here actually doing something! You ever had a gun in your face? ‘Cause I have. If she’s around, I know I’m making it home.”

The tv Cuts back to the news anchor at the desk, straightening their papers.

“You heard it here folks! Love her or hate her, one thing’s for sure. she’s out there. And she’s just getting started.” The news reporter finished.

But every hero had their villain.

And Ellie? She was crushing on hers.

With Brown hair tied back, wheels skimming smoothly across the pavement. No suit today, just a hoodie and jeans, her usual off-duty attire. As a creature of habit, she skated her way to the bookstore like clockwork, the same route.

Had she finished the last two comics she bought? Absolutely. A little faster than intended. But a five-minute ride was nothing for a girl who spent most of her nights swinging across the city, trying to do right by the world. In her own way.

The streets of downtown Seattle buzzed with life, familiar shop signs blurring past her periphery—the record store with the neon “Vinyl Lives” sign, the café that always smelled like burnt coffee, and the corner thrift shop with racks of clothes spilling onto the sidewalk.

Then—“Shit—!”

Ellie barely had time to swerve, nearly colliding with someone standing dead center in her path.

“Sorry!” she called over her shoulder, skidding to a halt a few feet away.

The person barely reacted. Headphones on, phone in hand, just a slight jerk of the shoulder to let her pass. like they’d done it a thousand times.

Ellie shot them one last glance, catching just a flicker of their face. The shape of their eyes, the calm in their posture despite the near collision. No sense of surprise, Weird. Most people flinched.

Shaking it off, she kicked forward again, hitting the sidewalk with a small exhale. Board tucked under her arm, she pulled open the door to the bookstore, the familiar jingle of the bell bringing an easy grin to her face.

“Like clockwork. You are so predictable, Williams,” Josh, the store clerk, greeted from behind the counter.

“What can I say?” Ellie shrugged, stepping inside. “When you’re a comic book connoisseur—”

“—It becomes a lifestyle,” Josh finished, smirking. “Indeed you are.”

Ellie chuckled, already making her way toward the shelves, completely unaware that the person she nearly crashed into was about to become a permanent part of her life.

She just didn’t know it yet. And neither did you.

Just few moments before …

“What an idiot,” a deep voice muttered, entering the back alley. Away from prying eyes.

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you leaned against the brick wall beside him. “She was skating. God, do you ever lighten—”

His hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing just enough to remind you. Not a threat. Not yet.

Your mouth shut. Swallowing your retort.

He exhaled through his nose, slow and measured. Thinking. Shit. Your gut told you to argue, to roll your shoulders back and step away. But you didn’t.

She wasn’t. You knew that. But your world didn’t allow second guesses.

Unlike Ellie, there were no scraped knees followed by fatherly reassurances. No kissing boo-boos, no gentle words. Hell, in your world, mistakes didn’t just hurt. They burned.

And the man towering over you now, eyes sharp as a blade’s, wasn’t the type to let things slide. The city dubbed him Red Hand, a name spoken in hushed whispers.

But you just settled for—

“Will you relax, old man? I get it.” You scoffed, swatting his hand away.

Old man. Boss. Everything but Dad. He didn’t deserve that title. Maybe once, when you were too young to know better. But now? Now, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw anything close to affection in his eyes. Sure, you’d hear a gruff, “You did good, kid,” now and then—but only after running his errands. Only when you were useful.

That’s how this started. You don’t grow a hatred for the world overnight. It’s molded into you when you’re most likely to sponge it all up. Seeing people for what they really are, learning early that it’s survival, not love.

Your real parents? Nothing but a shadow of the past. A blanket. A half-hearted note. A promise that you’d be “taken care of.” Not loved. Not held. Just… handled.

And he did. In his way. He didn’t mark your growth on a doorframe. He didn’t pack lunches with little notes that said, “Have a great day, love you.”

No, that was too soft. The Red Hand was feared. With just a snap of his fingers, his problems were taken care of—no questions asked.

At first, you weren’t sure who they were—the ones who carried out his orders, the ones who came and went like shadows. Or why he always denied your late-night tea parties with Mr. Bear.

One eye missing. Fur worn and faded from too many hugs. The first toy he’d ever bought you. Well, stolen. But it was a gift nonetheless.

You used to crack your bedroom door open at night, small fingers barely making a sound as you peeked through the gap. Trying to make out the hushed conversations happening just a few feet away.

Never catching much. But it was whispered for a reason. And even as a kid, you knew better than to ask.

Then came second grade. You walked through the door with puffy eyes and a fresh bruise on your cheek. He barely looked up from his paper as he slid an ice pack across the table.

“And did you hit them back?”

Your small legs dangled off the couch as you shook your head. “No…”

The paper rustled as he set it down, finally looking at you. “C’mere, kid. Let me show you something.”

And he did. With careful, practiced movements, he taught you where to aim. How to make it count. Jabs, punches.

“Those little shits won’t bug you too much after this.”

You learned quickly. Not just how to hit, but when. Where. How to read a room. How to never show weakness.

Because in his world? Weakness was a death sentence.

So no, there were no bedtime stories. No reassurances whispered into your hair. Just lessons. And you learned them all. After all, it paid to be useful. Even if that meant the occasional run to the principal’s office

The city doesn’t care. People don’t care. They’re too busy fighting to stay on top. So why bother trying to be something else? Why bother saving anyone when they’ll just let you down? He’d shown you what the world truly was. A place where you had to take what you wanted.

A place where you had to survive, no matter the cost.

You’d stopped asking questions a long time ago. Why did they leave? Why did he allow you to stay? What was that gnawing feeling deep in your gut? You’d stopped wondering about what could be, what should be. This was it. This was all there was.

And as Ellie’s world spun with hope, with the promise of doing right, yours had long since given up. Because in your world, saving lives wasn’t enough. The world didn’t reward you for being a hero. No. It rewarded you for knowing when to stop asking, when to take what you were given.

Dressed in black, learning what was most important: to keep moving.

To be continued …..

Line dividers | 2 | 3

Ellie m.list

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stargazedwinchester · 3 days ago

Text

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `unseen, sam winchester

Summary: You're Charlie's sister, and you get way less attention from the boys regarding that. Sam wants to change that dynamic. Word Count: 1,003 Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Being Charlie Bradbury’s sister has its pros and cons. She’s so cool and carries fun wherever she is. The cons, though, Charlie brings you to them.

You’ve never really got on with the Winchesters, but realizing they’re close to Charlie, you can’t really escape seeing them. She practically forces you along, knowing that you won’t say a word.

You arrive at the bunker with Charlie, exiting her sunshine yellow vehicle. She shoves the iron door open, allowing herself inside. You lock the door behind you and shuffle down the stairs behind her. Dean stands in the lobby with open arms. “Charlie!” He exclaims, and she rushes toward him. “Sup, bitches!” She releases from Dean’s grip, moving over to Sam to give him a hug as well. You stand there awkwardly, making eye contact with Dean. “Hey, Y/N. How’re you doin’?” Dean pats you on the shoulder before moving over to join Charlie and Sam in conversation.

This always happens. She leaves you for them and it’s almost like you slip away into nothingness. It’s like they don’t even notice you’re there. Thank God you bring your laptop, headphones and book with you every time. As you make your way to the library where it’s quiet, you don’t notice it, but Sam’s focus is on you. Pulling out your laptop, you set it down on the table next to you. You connect your headphones and turn on some music. Taking your book out of your bag, you flitter through the pages to find your bookmark.

“Y/N?” A tall figure stands before you, making you jump. “Oh! Jesus,” You slide your headphones off of your ears and place them on your lap. “Yeah?” You look up, seeing Sam tower above you. “Can I?” He motions over to a seat next to you, and you nod. He pulls the chair up and plants himself on it. His eyes dart over you, unclear of where to begin. He huffs. You purse your lips awkwardly.

“Can I help you?” You ask, ready to put your headphones back on and drown them out. Sam hesitates. A slight smirk appears on his face before he starts. “I feel so guilty from the past times you have come here and retreated away from us. Even Charlie. I’m not sure if anyone else has noticed, but I have. And I want to say I’m sorry.” His pretty hazel eyes look up at you; genuine apology shines in them. It’s not like the brothers make you feel uncomfortable, or that you hate them. It’s the pure fact of never wanting to get to know them or having the effort to talk to them. Charlie gets along with them famously and surely that’s enough, right? Guess not.

You attempt to avoid eye contact with Sam, but he’s leant forward with his arms resting on his lap. He’s looking at you, waiting for an answer. You frown, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologise, Sam. I enjoy being alone.” You admit. He sighs. “That’s not the point I’m trying to make… I-”

Charlie makes her way over, glaring at Sam. “What’re you doing with my sister?” She shouts at him playfully. Sam runs a hand through his hair and chuckles. “Nothing. Just, uh, talking.” He says, glancing over at you. You smile shyly at him. Admittedly, Sam is very good looking. He’s smart, careful and considerate when he needs to be. You’ve known him and Dean for a couple of years, and from what you know, he’s not allowed himself into a relationship for a long time. It’s hard to understand why, but guessing from his chaotic lifestyle, he’s avoided it all completely.

There’s a weird silence. Like Charlie just interrupted something. She stands there next to a bookcase, eyeing you both sitting next to each other. “Well, anyways. Sorry to cockblock, Sammy, but we’re heading out now.”

“Really? This hour's drive for us to just stay for two minutes?” You whine, closing your laptop and getting your bag ready. “Oh, so now you’re complaining that you don’t want to leave?” She remarks, folding her arms across her chest. You scoff. “I don’t want to stay, it was-”

Sam stands up, clearing his throat. He smiles down at you. A warm, friendly smile that you see occasionally. Sam is definitely the friendlier one compared to Dean, but this smile felt more… personal.

“I know. I’m kidding. Gosh, sisters, huh?” She mocks. You zip your bag up, glancing at Sam, who’s still looking right back at you. You lug the bag over your shoulder, and pass him a quick grin. “See you,” you hush, and he replies the same. You also say goodbye to Dean before leaving the bunker.

Entering the car, Charlie buckles her seatbelt and faces you immediately. “He so has a crush on you.”

You shove the seatbelt into the lock. “What?” You ask, completely taken aback by her comment. “Did you see the way he was looking at you when I came to speak to you? Damn, wish I had a lady that would look at me like that,” she laughs, and you internally facepalm. “No, he doesn’t have a crush on me. He came to check on me and apologise for not being more welcoming. That’s it. That doesn’t mean a thing.” You shut the idea down completely, even though you wouldn’t exactly go against it if her judgement was true to real life.

Charlie turns her whole body and folds one leg under the other, fully facing you this time. “Listen, my little Y/N. I just know when Sam has a little bit of passion for someone. He’s not very obvious about it, but when you know him…” She rolls her hands as if to allow you to finish her sentence. “When you know, you know.”

Charlie clicks her fingers. “Exactly.” She turns around and flips the engine over, a smug smirk is plastered on her face.

“Sammy and Y/N sitting in a tree…”

“Shut the hell up, Charlie.”

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #spn x reader #spn x you #spn x y/n

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snowysosturn · 2 days ago

Text

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, arguments, hurt.

Nick and I stand there, frozen.

My stomach drops to my ass.

Christina is in Matt’s bed.

Fast asleep, wrapped up in his sheets like she belongs there. It reminds me of when I stayed in his bed in the house.

How could he allow her to do the same.

I feel Nick tense beside me, he's silent but I can almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, like he’s piecing together the same horrifying realization I am.

Then the ensuite door swings open.

And out walks Matt.

Messy hair. Shirtless. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Looks like she helped him out last night instead.

The second he looks up, our eyes meet.

And everything inside me stops.

Nick moves first, he could never be silent for that long. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Matt’s mouth parts slightly, but Nick doesn’t give him the chance.

“Seriously?” he seethes, stepping forward. His voice is a dangerous mix of betrayal and anger. “You fucking lied to me. To her.” His arm motions toward me, but I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.

Matt tries to speak.

But Nick gives him no mercy.

“I don’t wanna hear it!” he snaps, his voice rising. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking word come out of your mouth right now.”

Matt’s face hardens, but he stays silent.

Nick scoffs. “You had one thing to prove, Matt. That you meant it this time.” He shakes his head. “And you couldn’t even do that.”

I can’t stand here anymore.

I need to be in my room. So I turn and leave the room.

Not fast. Not slow. I honestly feel like I'm floating.

I can hear Nick’s voice from down the hall, and he's not letting up easy.

“You either care about her or you don’t, Matt.” His words cut through the thick, suffocating silence.

“So which is it?”

I don’t hear Matt’s answer.

Because I don’t think I could handle it.

Nick’s POV

Y/n turns and walks away, and I don’t blame her.

I watch her go, watch the way her arms wrap around herself like she’s holding herself together, like she has to hold herself together because Matt sure as fuck won’t.

But I’m not done.

Not even close.

I turn back to Matt, still standing there like a fucking idiot, like he’s the one blindsided.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking.” I breathe, the disbelief thick in my voice.

Matt doesn’t even try to defend himself.

Maybe he knows there’s no excuse.

Maybe he just doesn’t have one.

Matt motions me out of the bedroom before closing the door behind him, the two of us stood in the hallway.

“What, I might wake your precious Christina?” I sneer, pointing at the door. “Wouldn’t wanna interrupt her beauty sleep, huh?”

Matt exhales sharply. “It’s not like that.”

I laugh. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

He shakes his head, but I don’t soften.

“I’m so disgusted with you.” I shutter. “I thought you would be real this time. That if you were serious about Y/n, you’d to fucking act like it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. “Nick-”

“And what do you do?” I cut him off. “You self sabotage. Again. Like you always fucking do. Because you never know how to handle something real.”

Matt’s eyes darken.

I don’t care.

I take another step forward. “And Y/n?” I point a finger toward the door she just walked toward. “She’s the realest thing you’re ever gonna get. And you know that.”

He drops his gaze for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see it.

Guilt.

Good.

“You know it” I repeat, voice quieter but my tone stays the same. “And you just threw it away.”

Matt opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, a door behind me swings open.

“Jesus Christ” Chris groans, stepping into the hall. He looks half asleep, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Can you two shut the fuck up? Rachel’s asleep in my room.”

I whip around. “Oh, of course she is!” I snap. “So what, you’ve got a girl in your bed too?”

Chris blinks at me, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What?”

I throw my hands up. “Seriously, who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea to bring girls out here?”

I don’t care who hears me.

I don’t care if I wake up the entire goddamn villa.

Chris shrugs, unfazed. “I did?” looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“The fuck are you freaking out about?” he scoffs. “I like Rachel, so I flew her out. I can do that, you know.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh yeah? And you think that was a good fucking idea?”

Chris crosses his arms. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be?”

“Because look at what you just caused!” I snap, throwing a hand back toward Matt’s door. “You might not have been the fire, but you sure as fuck were the fuel.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m being real.” I hiss, stepping closer. “I want them out. Within the next two hours. I don’t give a fuck what needs to be done. I want them gone.”

Chris’ expression hardens. “That’s unfair.”

I shake my head. “Unfair?” I scoff. “You wanna talk about unfair? Y/n spent this whole trip thinking her and Matt were finally on the same fucking page, and now she walks in to find Christina, of all fucking people, in his bed? And you wanna stand there and act like I’m being unfair?

Chris opens his mouth, as Matt stands awkwardly next to me.

Chris locks eyes with him.

“Wait, what?” Chris’s brow furrows. “She’s in your bed?”

Matt still doesn’t say a word.

Chris shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, man.”

I shake my head in complete disgust, looking between the two of them.

“The two of you are fucking idiots” I say, my voice filled with nothing but disappointment. “Absolute fucking idiots.”

Chris exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, while Matt just stands there, still not saying a goddamn word.

I don’t have the patience for this. Not right now.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm down the hallway, heading straight for Y/n’s room on the other side of the villa. My blood is boiling, not just at Matt but at Chris too. They both fucked up, and they both know it.

As I walk away, I hear Chris let out a frustrated sigh before opening his door and stepping into his room.

Matt?

I don’t hear him move at all.

I get to Y/n’s room and try the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. It’s locked.

I sigh, knocking gently. “Y/n, it’s just me.”

A few seconds pass, and then I hear the soft click of the lock. The door opens, and there she is, completely wrecked, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. My chest tightens at the sight of her.

“Ah no Y/n.” I mutter, stepping in without hesitation.

Before she can say a word, I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly. The second she buries her face into my chest, she breaks, her sobs shaking her whole body. I squeeze her tighter, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“He’s an idiot” I tell her. “A fucking idiot.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps crying, and I hold her through it.

After a minute, I guide her over to the bed, and we settle in. She wipes at her face, sniffling, and I wait, letting her take her time.

Finally, I ask, “What happened last night?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, wiping at her damp cheeks before finally looking up at me. Her voice is quiet, shaky.

“It was fine at first” she starts. “Obviously I was so happy for you, then you’s got up and left after Chris did.” She trails off, taking another breath.

“Then Chris came back with them.”

I already know exactly who she means.

“Christina and Rachel” I say, and she nods, pressing her lips together like even saying the name makes her sick.

“Chris kinda insinuated to Matt about them two catching up.. Nate and I felt awkward, so we went and did two shots and when we came back Matt and Chris were gone, it was just Rachel and Christina in the booth.” She says, staring blankly across the room.

“I mean, I knew things had happened between them before, but Matt told me.. he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since..” She pauses, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying to stop fresh tears from falling. “Since that night in the house. And Vegas was after that, so I didn’t think, I hoped, nothing happened. But the second she started talking, I just knew.”

She clenches her fists in her lap, shaking her head.

“She was smug. She kept making these little comments, insinuating that they were a thing. And when I asked her outright how Vegas was, she just smirked and said “WhAt HaPpEnS iN vEgAs StAyS iN vEgas.”

My jaw tightens.

“That was it for me” she says. “I didn’t want to be there anymore. I knew if I stayed, I’d just get more upset, and I didn’t want to make a scene. I just needed to leave.”

She looks at me with tired, blood shot eyes.

“Nate asked if I was okay, and I told him it was just a weird situation, but.. the truth is, it wasn’t just weird. It hurt.” She pauses. “I don’t think anything happened in Vegas.. Well, I didn’t. But the fact that she’s still here, still acting like she has some claim over him, and the fact that he-” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard before continuing. “That he let it happen? That he didn’t even try to stop it? It just made me feel like a fool.”

I shake my head, anger building in my chest.

“You’re not a fool.” I tell her firmly. “He is.”

She gives me a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Me and Nate ended up leaving then, he didn’t want to stay either” she says. “I didn’t even say goodbye to Matt, but at that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

I nod. “Was anything said at all?”

She sighs. “Nope, when we got back to the villa. I checked my phone, hoping stupidly that maybe Matt had messaged me. I know he’d seen I left. I just hoped that he’d care.”

Her voice wavers on those last two words, and I clench my fists.

“But there was nothing” she whispers. “Not a single message. Not a bit of concern. And I just, got so angry because I knew why I was angry. Because I care. Because I have feelings for him.”

She blinks, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“So I turned my phone off and went to bed, hoping that if I slept, the night would be over faster.”

I take a deep breath, letting everything she just told me sink in. I already was mad, but now? Now I’m fucking fuming.

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I'm going to say it again, but Matt’s a fucking idiot” I mutter.

She lets out a small, sad laugh. “Yeah. He is.”

I pull her in again, letting her rest against me.

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing my face. “I feel awful for not being there for you last night” I admit, my voice heavy with guilt.

Y/n immediately shakes her head. “No, don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were living your life which you deserve, you were oblivious to everything.” She sniffles.

I lean my head back against the headboard, exhaling sharply. “Well, this whole situation has officially shocked me into being completely sober.”

That earns a small giggle from her, and I smile, relieved to see even the tiniest bit of light return to her eyes.

I tilt my head, looking at her. “Do you want me to stay in here for a bit?”

She hesitates for a second before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d like to be on my own for a little while.”

I nod, respecting her space. “Okay. But if you need anything, I mean it, Y/n, just come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nick.”

I squeeze her hand one last time before getting up, heading for the door. Before I step out, I glance back at her, still curled up in bed, her eyes staring off at nothing.

I want to fix this for her. I want to fix Matt. But for now, the only thing I can do is be here for her.

So I leave her room, closing the door gently behind me, and head to my own.

Y/n’s POV

I drag myself off of my bed to push open the balcony door, letting the early morning air into my room. I feel like I’m suffocating in here, like the walls are closing in on me.

I crawl back into bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. Numbness settles over me, and I let it. I don’t know how long I lie there, my mind running in endless circles, but it must be at least an hour.

Then, faintly, I hear voices outside on the patio. My ears perk up at the low tones, one voice sharper than the other.

Nate and Chris.

I don’t move, barely breathing as I listen.

Nate’s voice is quiet, laced with disbelief. “I just don’t get it, man.”

Chris sighs. “What?”

“This whole thing. I came home with Y/n last night, and I thought-” He pauses, like he’s still processing it. “I thought Matt was different with her. That he actually gave a shit.”

Chris exhales, and I hear the scrape of a chair moving. “I don’t know what the fuck is going if I’m honest.”

Then followed by a pause.

“The girls are leaving soon” Chris says after a moment, his voice more certain. “I told them they have to go.”

Girls? So that means Rachel is in the villa, too.

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. The thoughts of the four of them being in that booth all night. It’s not the four it should’ve been.

“Good” Nate finally says, though his voice is distant, still caught up in his thoughts. “That’s good.”

Neither of them says anything after that, just the occasional sound of movement. I don’t know what to do with any of this. Do I go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t hear? Do I stay curled up in bed and wait for them to leave?

I don’t know.

All I do know is that I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hear the girls voices outside, light and carefree, like they have no idea the storm they’ve left behind.

They laugh, saying their goodbyes, talking about how much fun they had. Christina’s voice is the loudest, going on about how this trip is "so needed." Rachel thanks Chris for having them over last night, her tone full of gratitude, like this was just some casual getaway and not the disaster it turned into.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back at our hotel” Rachel says smoothly.

Chris responds almost too casually, “Yeah, do that. Hopefully, we can meet later. One on one.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the sting in my chest. Of course. Of course, he’s already setting up another meetup, like none of this meant anything. Like bringing them here, ruining everything, was just some minor inconvenience.

How long are they even here for?

I hear the shuffle of movement. I hear Christina giggle, making some passing comment about how wild the night was, and then the sound of the front door closing.

They’re gone.

But the mess they left behind? That’s still here.

I should feel relieved, but all I feel is exhausted.

I don’t move from my bed for the rest of the day. Not for food, not for water. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. My mind replays every moment, every touch, every look, every promise Matt ever gave me.

Was it all fake?

Did he ever mean any of it?

Or was his plan to play with me all along?

I feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. I let myself believe in something real. I let myself believe in him. And now, I’m left here, in this bed, in this villa, drowning in the realization that I was just another girl to him. Another meaningless moment in his never ending cycle of self sabotage.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I’ve cried enough.

Instead, I just lay here. Empty.

Four more days in this place. Four more days of agony, of being in the same space as Matt, of pretending I don’t care when it’s eating me alive. Within the last 10 days, everything felt different, full of excitement, possibility. Now, it feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

It’s confusing. All of it. The way he looked at me before, the way he made me feel like I mattered. And now? Now he’s just another person who’s shown me that words mean nothing. That promises are empty.

But one thing is clear.

I don’t want to speak to Matt again.

a/n : GET HIM NICK GET HIM (dw any questions you may have will be answered)

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

176 notes · View notes

devixncy · 3 days ago

Note

Can I request a Thanos x reader AU where the X voters actually win and they leave early? But the main problem is that the reader was on the games to pay off debt so she can leave her shitty parter/fiancée/spouse but now she can’t because the money wasn’t enough to pay it all off. Fortunately, Thanos and the reader grew close during the games and he knew her reason for being there, and also knew the money wouldn’t be enough. So basically post games, he runs into her and they reconnect and he absolutely beats the shit out of the reader’s awful partner (because in Thanos’s mind, anyone who hurts the reader deserves hell)

If you couldn’t tell, I’m a sucker for protective Thanos who won’t hesitate to (literally) kill a bitch haha

a/n: anon i'm sorry this took me so long, i rewrote this 6 times. SIX. (i am never satisfied with my own work LOL)

✧ pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x reader

✧ word count: 6.1k (i'm sorry.)

✧ content: fem!reader, swearing, mentions of abuse!!, mention of drugs, violence, ooc thanos/su-bong yet again (oops), au where X voters win, partner is gn bc it wasn't specified but also realized that thanos beats they ass so...

The first day was the hardest. The sterile feel of the dormitory, the looming silence, and the constant threat of death. Nothing could prepare you for the weight of it, the brutality of it all, how you were just merely a pawn in a sick game.

You had stood lined up with the others—strangers, all of you forced into a game of life or death. None of you could fathom what was to come. The sounds of the red light/green light game still echoed in your mind, the screams, the metallic scent of blood, the bodies falling one by one.

But there was one person you noticed, even in the chaos. The purple haired rapper that you had heard the other players talking about, Thanos. He wasn’t like the others—no frantic desperation in his eyes. You had seen him after player 196 was shot in front of him. How quickly his demeanor changed once he took a pill out of his necklace; how quick he was to put others lives at stake. He breezed through the game, like it was something fun instead of something twisted and terrifying.

You had no intention of ever speaking to him–or anyone else for that matter, unless the games required it. You felt as though you couldn’t trust anyone. There was already a divide, the vote evenly splitting the remaining players. Unfortunately, you voted to stay. It wasn’t like you wanted to, no. There was not a drop of greed in your body unlike most of the players that voted the same as you. You were drowning in debt, obviously–but it was more than that. It was debt that wasn’t your fault, but was the fault of your shitty excuse of a partner. You needed that prize money to escape from them as well, get away from the awful card you’d been dealt.

You found yourself sitting alone in the dormitory after the vote, exhausted and anxious. Your mind raced—how would you survive this? Your previous determination was slipping away, overtaken by thoughts of self-doubt. Even if you did escape with enough money, how would you hide it from your partner? If the games disbanded early and the X voters won, would it even be enough? And what if it wasn’t?

“You’re thinking too hard, señorita,” a low voice rumbled from behind you.

You stiffened, jolted out of your thoughts. Turning, you were startled to find Thanos standing there, his frame casting a shadow over you. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, his pupils blown wide.

“You know, thinking like that can get you killed.” he said, lowering himself onto the stairs next to you. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t even wait for an answer. You weren’t sure what gave him the confidence, but you could only assume it was the drugs still running through his veins.

You scoffed, looking straight ahead. “And what would you know? You’re clearly not thinking about much of anything but yourself right now.”

He barked out a laugh, making finger guns and pretending to shoot them. “That’s how you play the game, flower. Only focusing on yourself means you’ll live.”

“Okay, is there a reason you came over here? Can I help you with something?” You asked with an eye roll, not quite sure what he wanted from you.

“Tell you what. You stick with me, and I can keep you safe. Come join the Thanos world,” He said with a hand movement, and you turned your head to stare at him with a questioning look.

“Didn’t you just say-”

He cut you off. “Forget what I said. I don’t even remember what I said,” He responded with a stupid grin, his high still in full effect. “Look,” he said as he pointed to the blue O patch on your chest. “We’re basically already on the same team anyway. Don’t you think it would make sense?” You pursed your lips as he blabbered on.

“We’re here for very different reasons.” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Clearly not,” he snorted, his arrogance on full display. “But if you say so, señorita. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a wink, he stood up and skipped off, presumably to go harass others with player 124.

You shook your head to yourself. Why would you ever need him?

—

The next day, during the second game, you were ashamed to have to walk up to Thanos. You felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, dragging your feet. In all fairness, you didn’t think you would need to team up so soon. And unfortunately–Thanos was the only player you had spoken to so far.

As you approached, he immediately noticed you. Turning his attention towards you, he grinned.

“Señorita! Did you change your mind? Couldn’t resist the charm of the legend Thanos?” He gestured to himself. You internally gagged, wanting to turn around and walk away right then and there.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this because I have to.” You grumbled, while he and player 124 snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. C’mon, you won’t regret it.” He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you shrugged it off. You ended up sitting with your group that was made up of Thanos, Nam-gyu, Min-su and Se-mi.

You began to open up a little as you sat and waited for your group's turn, conversation about nothing important flowing easily (more so with the sober ones of the group). Either way, it was a welcome distraction from the gunfire and bloodshed happening around you as entire groups were gunned down. Your tense posture and slight flinching at the sounds didn’t go unnoticed by Thanos. As soon as he noticed, he put a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. I said I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” He asked with a laugh, however, you caught something genuine in the tone of his voice. You looked at him and his large pupils, and as you did some of the tension released from your body. Maybe he really did mean it.

Thankfully, your group had breezed through the six legged pentathlon. You were terrified–and being chained directly to Thanos didn’t help, considering how reckless he was. To your surprise, however, his presence was comforting. He cheered you on during your turn, giving you the confidence you needed to help advance your team.

Then came the next vote. You voted to stay yet again, as difficult as it was. The prize money still wasn’t enough to justify switching your vote. Thanos made himself the center of the chaos as per usual, egging on the O voters and only helping to increase the tension between both sides. It was almost unbearable to watch.

Meal time was next, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your hunger. You’d been behind Thanos in line, watching as he threw his arms up in exasperation as he saw what they were offering. Once you stepped forward, you figured out why. It was a lousy piece of bread and a carton of milk. You accepted the food with a sigh, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ to the guards and turning on your heel. You walked past Thanos and the rest of your group, hearing him call out to you with one of his dumb pet names. Ignoring it, you went and sat by yourself to have some peace and quiet, wanting to be alone with your thoughts.

Unfortunately, the universe did not have your back because minutes later, you felt a presence sit down next to you. You could see the flash of purple in your peripheral vision, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I help you, Thanos?” You questioned, taking a bite out of your bread. He was tapping his foot in an aggravating fashion, causing you to shoot your arm out and grab his leg. “Please stop doing that.”

“Ooo, I didn’t think we were moving that fast, señorita,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind, don’t worry. In fact, we could-”

You immediately put your finger up to his lips to stop him from talking. “You do not want to finish that sentence. I am not in the mood.”

“Of course you’re not. Do you hate jokes and having fun?” he let out an exaggerated sigh, gulping down his milk. You didn’t respond, taking another bite of your food.

“I’m kidding, relax,” He said as he noticed your silence. “Anyway, question for ya.” You didn’t respond, but motioned for him to continue. “Haven’t gotten a name from you yet. I can only come up with so many nicknames, you know?”

“That wasn’t a question,” you stated matter of factly.

“Tch. Okay smartass.” He said, and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. His eyes lit up at the sight, and you could tell he was about to make some dumb comment.

“It’s (Y/N).” You said before anything could leave his mouth. He was silent for a moment.

“Hm,” he hummed, looking right at you. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His voice was filled with nothing but sincerity, causing you to look at him with burning cheeks. “Aww, she’s blushing!”

And he effectively ruined the moment. “Do you do this to every girl you meet?” You tilted your head questioningly.

“No. Only the pretty ones.” He snickered, and this time you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. You huffed, finally finishing your meal. Taking notice of the fact that Thanos somehow hadn’t yet, you raised an eyebrow. You watched as he broke a piece of his bread off, holding it out to you and gesturing for you to take it. Vehemently, you shook your head. “Come on, (Y/N),” he tested your name, waving the food in front of your face. “You need it more than I do.”

“Uh, no actually. You shouldn’t be high on an empty stomach, you eat it. I’m not taking your share.” You stated, genuinely not wanting to take it. They barely fed you all as it was, not nearly enough to be sustainable. He shrugged, popping it into his mouth with no hesitation.

“If you say so.” He mumbled with his mouth full, causing you to scrunch your nose.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, your bond with the egotistical rapper was quickly growing. Never in a million years did you think he of all people would be the person you’d become the closest with. To be honest, it wasn’t like you really had a choice. He didn’t leave you alone. But you were starting to look forward to his presence—it was the only form of comfort and familiarity you had in this place.

That same night, you sat in your bunk with your knees pulled up to your chest after lights out. The faint glow of the piggy bank was the only thing illuminating the dark room. It allowed your eyes to wander around without being too obvious, although most players were long asleep. You, however, were wide awake. That would only be prolonged when a certain someone decided to come invade your personal space.

You almost didn’t register how your mattress dipped below the weight of another person, your unfocused gaze and scrambled thoughts making you oblivious. Your head shot up, and your body quickly relaxed once you recognized the figure on the end of your bunk.

“Relax,” Thanos whispered as if you weren’t surrounded by people who could easily take you out. “Just me again.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Thought the pills would have knocked you out.” You cringed as the words left your mouth, not even trying to come off as rude. He chose to ignore it, though.

“Could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He asked as you shrugged.

“Can’t sleep.” You said simply, looking at him in the golden glow of the pig.

“I noticed. That’s why I came over here,” he said as he made himself comfortable on your bunk, sitting with his legs crossed. You mirrored his movements as sitting with your knees up was becoming slightly uncomfortable.

The two of you sat and conversed for longer than you expected. You knew it wasn’t ideal—both of you should be getting enough rest for the third game. He was very easy to talk to, you had to admit.

“So, how did someone like you end up in a place like this, señorita?” He asked, and you had been dreading that question. You could easily lie and come up with something other than your situation, because in all honesty Thanos absolutely seemed like the gullible type. However, you had come to trust him in the short amount of time you’d known him and didn’t feel that it was necessary to lie. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket, taking in a shaky breath.

“I’ve raked up a lot of debt. I know that goes for everybody here, obviously. But it wasn’t my fault,” You paused, your eyes averting to stare at the mattress. “My partner…after we started dating, they got me to move in with them. Everything was going well until then. After I moved in, they had me quit my job. Promised to “take care of me”, said I wouldn’t have to worry about working. Then they drained my account, took everything I worked for. Blew through it, left both of us with nothing,” You said as you rolled up your sleeves, showing off the fading and now yellow bruises that littered your arms. “This has been my life. Escape always felt impossible, until I was handed that card in the subway station,” You let out a humourless laugh, feeling tears sting the back of your eyes. “And that’s why I’ve been voting to stay. So I can pay off my debt, and get the hell out of there. But easier said than done, I suppose.”

Thanos was silent. The deafening silence that made you uneasy, and you almost regretted saying anything at all. You kept your eyes averted, honestly in disbelief that you had confided in him so easily. But then, you heard him slowly exhale. His hands reached over, rings brushing against your skin as he tugged your sleeves back down. His touch was gentle, hands steady—he wasn’t high.

“Hey,” he said softly, his finger guiding your chin up so that you were looking at him. “Trust me when I say that we’re getting you out of here. And then you’re getting out of there. On my life, a hand will not be laid on you again.”

You looked at him in shock. His expression was something unreadable—but you could see the anger that lingered underneath. Never in a million years did you expect something so sincere to come out of his mouth, not from the least serious player in the games. It honestly left you feeling confused. Did he really care about you that much? You hadn’t even known each other long.

“That’s the plan, I hope,” you said with a humorless laugh. Your stomach churned at the thought of failure, of not being able to leave. As Thanos opened his mouth to speak, you held your hand up to stop him. Talking about your situation only made the mood bleak, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“What about you, Thanos? How’d you end up here?” You asked with a tilt of your head. He paused, dropping his hand from your chin. Thankfully, he recognized that you were redirecting the conversation. He chuckled as if the answer should be obvious.

“Blew all of my money on drugs, clubbing, clothes, shoes, you name it. Spent it on whatever I wanted. When I went through all of my money, I went to loan sharks. Started coming after me because I couldn’t pay it back. Simple as that, sweetheart,” He hesitated then, as if there were more to it. And there was. “The recruiter found me on a bridge. I was about to just end it all before he got there. So now here I am. Guess you could say he saved my life, in a way.”

Your lips parted in shock at his confession, not expecting vulnerability from him like that. “Oh wow, I’m so sorry Thanos-”

“Su-bong,” he interrupted, causing you to pause mid sentence. “My real name is Su-bong. Hearing you say Thanos just sounds strange.”

Slowly, you nodded. “If you say so, Su-bong.” You spoke unsurely, his name sounding foreign on your tongue.

“That’s more like it,” he said with an encouraging grin. “I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth much more than Thanos.” He winked, causing your cheeks to burn. You smacked his leg and he laughed, causing a nearby player to tell him to “shut the fuck up”.

That night, Su-bong had fallen asleep on your bunk. Neither of you meant for it to happen, however exhaustion had hit both of you hard seemingly out of nowhere. He actually had fallen asleep mid conversation; you had asked him a question and got nothing but snoring as a response. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up and kick him off, so you let him sleep at the end of your bunk. Shortly after he passed out, you followed suit, curled up at the head of your bed. If you were being honest with yourself, it was the safest you’d felt in a while.

When you awoke the next morning, Su-bong was already up and gone. You did take notice of the blanket covering your body that wasn’t there when you had fallen asleep, though. The gesture was sweet, something you weren’t used to. It warmed your heart, but guilt started to creep in at the same time–even though it shouldn’t.

“The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready.”

You sighed, swinging your legs over the side of your bunk and standing up along with all of the other players. Making your way into the center of the room and into the crowd, you immediately made your way towards the easily recognizable mess of purple hair. He was standing with Nam-gyu, surely doing something stupid, and as you got closer you could instantly recognize that they were high. Your smile faltered slightly, but you shook it off as you approached. If he needed it to get through the games, so be it.

Su-bong noticed you immediately, a grin adorning his face. “Señorita! There you are!”

You chuckled, falling into step with him as you headed towards the stairs to the game arena. “Good to see you too, Su-bong.” As his name left your mouth, Nam-gyu immediately threw a questioning look towards him. Su-bong noticed and threw his hand up, accidentally smacking Nam-gyu in the face with it. He slung his other arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. You weren’t entirely sure if it was affection or for his own benefit, considering his noticeably unsteady steps.

During the game–which ended up being mingle–had to be the most terrified you’d felt in your time there. This was a game where desperation reared its head, players shoving and ripping each other away to ensure their spot in a room. The entire time, much to your relief, Su-bong stuck with you. Your wrist was constantly in his grip so that he didn’t lose you. He almost had, during the final round. He chose you over Nam-gyu, dragging you towards a room with a speed you didn’t know was possible. Someone had grabbed the back of your tracksuit jacket before you got in the room, trying to rip you away from safety. Su-bong was extremely quick to react, even while high, and ripped the other player away from you with a strength you didn’t know he had. Besides that minor incident, the game had gone as good as it could’ve–although your tremors had yet to slow down.

Upon heading back to the dormitory, you nervously waited for the vote to be cast yet again. Your hands shook, still slightly shaken up. Su-bong stayed by your side, his arm brushing against yours. There were only 100 players left, and the prize money was at 356,000,000 won. It was almost enough. Almost.

You placed your vote, yet again voting to stay. You stood on the O side, arms crossed across your chest. Watching as Su-bong skipped up to the booth and smashed his lips onto the O button, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He scampered over to you immediately, then changed direction and pushed his way towards the back. You paid no mind, feeling too much anxiety about the vote to pay attention. However, you could faintly hear him and Nam-gyu starting to harass Min-su into voting to play another game. To their dismay, he didn’t. Nam-gyu, who voted after him, was noticeably unhappy. You weren’t thrilled either at the thought of losing a vote, but you couldn’t blame him.

Down to the final vote, you held your breath. The vote was currently tied. Deep down, part of you knew that this was it and you weren’t winning this. Accepting it was a different story. As player 001 walked up to the booth, your hands clenched into fists. Su-bong, who was next to you, took notice and grabbed one of your hands. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Don’t worry, señorita. We’re going to win this vote.” He said it with too much confidence. Time stood still as player 001 made it to the booth, pausing before he made his decision. The red X button illuminated, changing the vote from a tie. Immediately, cheers erupted from the X voters. It was decided.

The sound of the final vote echoed in your ears, muffled and distant, like you were trapped underwater. The games were over. You were going home.

Your chest tightened. Your breath hitched. No. No, no, no—

You could hear the other players on your side reacting around you. But their voices barely registered. The moment the vote was cast, your body locked up, panic surging through your veins.

This was supposed to be your way out, the only way you’d be able to pay all of your debt and get your own place to leave your partner. Now, you weren’t sure what you would do.

Your hands curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as you stared blankly ahead. You had spent the past few days convincing yourself that you just had to survive. Just win. Just hold on long enough, and then you’d be free. Free from the debt. Free from the hands that grabbed too tightly, from the voice that spat venom at you whenever you spoke out of turn.

But you weren’t free. You were going back to them.

Your breathing grew shallow. Your vision blurred at the edges. The world felt too small, suffocating you as the reality of your situation settled in. You knew you were perhaps being irrational, not thinking clearly—but it was hard not to.

A firm grip on your wrist yanked you back to the present. You flinched, expecting the worst, but when you looked up, it wasn’t them. It was Su-bong.

His grip was solid, grounding. “Breathe,” he murmured.

You shook your head wildly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I-it’s not enough money, Su-bong. What am I supposed to do?”

Something dark flickered in his gaze. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed around your wrist before slowly releasing you.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to come find you, no matter what it takes.” He promised, but in the moment it felt empty. You couldn’t even respond, your thoughts racing as the dormitory became chaotic. The guards were saying something but you couldn’t even listen.

Suddenly, you could hear a hissing sound. Smoke began to spill out of all of the vents, quickly filling the dormitory. You brought your hands up and gripped Su-bong’s wrists, everything becoming hazy. The last thing you saw was his face, and the last thing you heard was his voice.

“You hear me? I will find my way to you.” Then everything went dark.

—-

As you expected, life outside of the games hadn’t gotten any better. The games had been disbanded for almost a month now, and nothing had changed. You were miserable, still burdened by your remaining debt and toxic partner.

They hadn’t let go of the fact that you had disappeared without a trace for three days, only to show up again in the dead of night. It was dangled above your head, used as a way to manipulate and guilt trip you. You felt lost, hopeless even.

Your mind was still plagued by Su-bong. You wondered how he was faring after being granted freedom. His promise to find you hadn’t come to fruition yet, but you still clung to it–it was the only thing keeping you going. But until then, you lived your life in misery.

You had convinced your partner to let you pick up a part time job at a local convenience store. It had taken a lot of convincing, because they were sure you were going to disappear again. But you pressed, telling them it was just to get some extra money, promising to get them whatever they wanted with it. In reality, you didn’t care about that. You wanted an escape, to be able to go somewhere where you weren’t constantly scrutinized. And thankfully, it worked.

Late night shifts were your favorite. It was the only sliver of peace you had–where the streets were empty, where you could breathe, if only for a moment.

That’s where you were now, walking home from work, the cold biting at your skin. The chill didn’t bother you–in fact, it seemed to keep you grounded, stopping you from getting into your own head. The silence was welcome, nobody around to bother you. But that’s when you felt it.

A presence.

It was subtle at first, something you could easily shrug off. Then, you heard footsteps. Directly behind you.

Your breath caught, heart racing. You had to keep moving. Ducking into the nearest alley, you turned the corner almost too fast, nearly losing your footing. You didn’t dare to look back. You weren’t sure who was behind you, but paranoia told you it was your partner. They had warned you. Told you they’d be watching. That if you ever even thought about running—

A hand closed around your wrist. You gasped, your fight or flight response kicking in. Before you could do anything, whether it be scream, fight or run–you were spun around.

Your mind took an extra second to catch up with your body, not registering who was in front of you. But when you caught a glimpse of purple hair, the chain around his neck, the ear piercing–your eyes widened.

Su-bong.

The adrenaline left your body, your tense posture sagging with relief. You only stared at him, unable to form words, in disbelief that he was in front of you. But he spoke before you could. He lazily grinned at you, holding his arms out and gesturing to himself.

“I told you I’d find you.” He said, and hearing his voice set something off in your head. You wasted no time in throwing your arms around him. He reciprocated, his arms immediately snaking around you tightly.

“Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to see you and hear your voice.” You admitted quietly, and he chuckled. After a moment he pulled back, holding your shoulders at arm's length. His eyes raked over your form, his smile slipping away as he took in your exhausted appearance. His smile disappeared further at the fact that you had tried to run, thinking he was someone more dangerous.

“Did you think I was someone else?” He asked with a tilt of his head, and you swallowed hard.

“Yeah..” you whispered, knowing there was no point in lying. He already knew your situation.

He frowned, watching as you nervously played with the ends of your sleeves. Anger bubbled in his chest, easily interpreting what was going on. “You’re still there, aren’t you?” He murmured. Slowly, you nodded.

“...I’m still there, Su-bong,” you admitted, slightly ashamed. “I’m still not financially stable enough to get out and get my own place. Not with the debt I have, too.” You could feel his grip tighten at your words. Thankfully, he didn’t press, but his next words made you stiffen.

“Let me walk you home. That’s where you were going, right?”

“Yes,” you said, hesitating as you chose your next words. “You can walk me home. But that’s it.” You warned, knowing he had some kind of underlying intention. He nodded, the grin returning to his face.

“That’s all I need, señorita,” he slung an arm around your shoulder. “Such a pretty flower shouldn’t have to walk home by herself in the dark, anyway.” He began to walk, pulling you along with him. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but smiled–that was such a Thanos thing to say.

Your walk back to your apartment was peaceful. But as soon as you reached the building, the atmosphere shifted. You turned to Thanos, and he looked down at you. You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thank you,” you murmured, and he nodded. He took his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up a new contact before handing the device to you.

“Put your number in. Please,” He said as you took his phone from him. You typed your number in, and then to lighten the mood, you set your contact name as Player 243. Handing it back, you watched him shake his head. “You’re something else.”

“I try,” you said with a laugh. Then, you took a step back from him, signaling you were about to make your way to your apartment. “Goodbye, Su-bong.” You said, a warning edge to your voice. He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, lifting it up and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart skipped a beat, face heating up.

“See you later, (Y/N).” He said, letting go of your hand. He gestured for you to ascend the stairs, and you did. You didn’t disappear until you made sure he turned his back to leave the complex.

Sighing in relief, you slowly made your way to your door. It wasn’t like you actually wanted him to leave–you just didn’t want more unnecessary problems. You wanted to be smart about this. Pulling out your keys, you fiddled to find the correct one. As you moved to put it in the lock, you paused.

“Su-bong,” you whispered, your eye twitching. “What did I tell you?” Looking over your shoulder, you shot him a glare.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around and avoiding your gaze like he had no clue what you were talking about. You had to give it to him, though, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. For someone who was typically so loud, he knew how to move silently when he wanted to.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as he finally met your eyes. His expression softened. “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna let you go in here alone? Especially with the way you acted earlier?”

You only rolled your eyes. “What exactly is your plan here?” You asked while pushing the door open slightly, signaling for him to be quiet. Unfortunately, the universe hated you.

“Maybe beat some ass–I mean talk some sense–into someone.” Su-bong responded nonchalantly. But his voice was a little too loud.

“Who the fuck is at the door?” A voice slurred from inside, causing your stomach to drop. You were so screwed.

You barely had time to react before Thanos reached forward, pushing the door open wider with one hand.

Your partner stumbled out into the entryway, rubbing their eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar figure now standing in their doorway. Confusion twisted into irritation. Then into anger.

“Who the hell are you?”

Su-bong didn’t answer. He just stared, gaze cold and unreadable. It was like a switch flipped, his chill demeanor disappearing in an instant.

Your partner sneered, stepping closer to you. "You screwing around on me, huh? That what this is?" They turned their glare on you, their lip curling. “You brought him here, didn’t you? You really think some asshole off the street can save you—”

A loud crack echoed through the apartment. It happened so fast, you barely registered it.

Su-bong’s fist connected with your partner’s jaw, sending them sprawling backward. They hit the floor with a thud, groaning.

It was like something took over him, rage consuming his whole body. Before your partner could recover, Su-bong was on top of him.

“You fucked up. You think you’re tough, treating a defenseless girl like that?” Su-bong spoke calmly–but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. It was a warning.

Your partner sneered, rolling their eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, man. But stay the fuck out of it.” They tried to shove him off. Before you could even blink, Su-bong struck again. His fist connected with their face–a hit that knocked the arrogance straight out of them. He channeled his blinding anger into every hit laid into your partner. His fists quickly became bloodied. Each hit was filled with fury; he wasn’t just fighting, he was punishing.

“You like keeping her scared, don’t you?” Su-bong snarled between punches, eyes dark. “Makes you feel powerful. Makes you feel big.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Pathetic.”

You watched with a hand over your mouth, torn between horror, relief and some dark sense of satisfaction. No one had ever stood up for you like this. But as you watched, you realized he had no intention of stopping–you had to intervene before he literally killed them.

“Su-bong,” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you loud and clear as he paused. “Please.” You whispered, a plea to stop only because you were worried about him. You didn’t want this to get him in trouble. He exhaled slowly, but wasn’t done yet. He grabbed your partner’s collar, bringing their bloodied face closer to his.

In a low, chilling tone, he delivered an ultimatum. “If you ever come near her again, I promise that I will finish what I started. Are we clear?” They nodded frantically, and he slammed them back to the floor. Su-bong got to his feet, finally turning towards you. His eyes softened upon landing on your shocked form. “C’mon,” He started casually, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s go get your stuff and get out of here.” You nodded, trying to will your legs to move.

After the events that had transpired, you ended up in Su-bong’s apartment. You brought as many of your belongings with you as you could, with the promise that you could stay with him for as long as necessary. While he helped you get settled into his guest room, you tried to come up with the right words. You hadn’t spoken about what had just happened, how he almost just killed for you. You stopped what you were doing, watching him for a moment. He sat on the bed, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“Hey,” You called out, and he stopped whatever he was doing to look at you. “I never thanked you,” you said softly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it out of there without you.”

He reached out and grabbed your arms, pulling you towards him so that you were standing between his legs. “You don’t have to thank me,” He murmured, cupping your face with his hands. “I was just doing the right thing. I would’ve never let you walk in there alone, you know that. You never deserved that. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

And you smiled, the first genuine smile you’d shown in weeks. He grinned, running his thumb across your cheek. “That smile looks good on you, señorita,” He whispered, standing up and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks burned, not used to being complimented after being degraded for so long. “You should get some rest, flower. If you need anything you know where to find me.” You nodded and he left the room, giving you some space. You sat down on the bed and smiled to yourself.

Your heart was full; for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt completely safe. You knew you weren’t alone anymore.

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