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clumsybriar · 3 months

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Ghost x Wife! Reader — My Pretty Girl

Ghost x wife! Reader

Masterlist

Notes: use of (y/n), reader is female, ghost really adores his wife, fluff.

Word count: 6,858

Warnings: some swearing and bullying.

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Simon stopped in the doorway watching his wife get ready. He was awestruck by her always. She was curvy, and pretty, and her personality sold it all.

She was in his words ‘a sensitive bugger’, to which she would disagree and tell him she was in tune with her emotions and then giggle. She was so sweet and patient and was willing to try and be everyone’s friend even if she was an introvert. The deal was, they had to talk to her first.

“Pretty girl.” He uttered coming up behind her and kissing her cheek. She had her make up all done and it was natural looking. The way she liked it. Her hair was straightened and she was just trying to get dressed until Simon interrupted her.

“Si!” She whined cutely as she only had one leg in her shorts and her other one was lifted as she was trying to stick her foot in the hole. Simon had snatched it up trapping her in place.

“Don’t whine, dovie.” He smiled as he balanced her. “I love you with all my heart, I’m just showin’ it.” His deep Manchester accent boomed within the four walls surrounding them.

His words were not an understatement either. He adored her entirely, worshiped the ground she walked on. He was a man who was well in love with his wife as he should be. She was gorgeous, even if she had stretch marks, or a bigger booty, or larger breasts. How ever it was, he loved her no matter what she looked like.

“Ah, pretty girl, not this outfit.” He smiled leaving a trail of kissed down her neck to her shoulder and continuing it down her arm.

“What’s wrong with it?” She asked nervously as she looked up at Simon.

There wasn’t anything wrong with it, he loved it. Frankly he would have said that about any outfit she left the house with or were wearing around the house. Even if it was her tangled and messy bed head and a t-shirt and boxers of his. He would still slobber over it and have the same remark.

“I love it, you look so gorgeous in this outfit pretty girl.” He kissed her knuckles.

“Si-si,” she snorted. “You say that about anything I wear.”

“Can’t help it love.” He tapped her butt with his hands. “You look good in everything, and nothing at all.” He teased softly. His lips trailing down her neck again as his hands wondered her body.

“We can’t,” she out a half things frenzied attack which made up of lots of kisses and groping over her soft skin. “We said we would meet Mr. and Mrs. Price at 3:30 at the winery.” His hands still grabbed at her thighs as he tried to sneak a few subtle touches elsewhere. “And soap and a Gaz will be there with their…”

“Pay them no mind, pretty girl.” Simon hummed as he stood up straight. She was petit against him, as in he towered over her and she was just this dainty and tiny little hobbit compared to him.

“Yes lieutenant.” She giggled she was trying to fight off his large hand that gripped her in thigh still up in the air as she wanted to get dressed. He patted her butt one more time as he let her go and laid on the bed watching her as she got dressed.

“Ya’ wearin’ that devils peice of clothing?” Simon asked as he watched her turn around and change her bra. “Go no bra.” He whined slightly. It was so out of character for him to be so whiney like this, but with her he could express himself in any way. He was so comfortable with her.

“I’m wearing a bra.” She fastened the new one and made sure her breasts settled right in it. He rolled into his belly as he rested his head on his fist.

“No bra,” he grunted out.

“Yes bra!” She argued back smiling at him.

“Let me see.” He pawed at her butt. She had fasted her cargo wrap skort and turned around grabbing her crocheted black crop top that cupped around her breasts.

“Pretty lace lovie.” He referred to her bra looking the dark green and how it compared to her skin.

“Your such a tease.” She giggled.

“Can you blame me lovie.” He sat up watching her out on the crochet top. “Such a pretty girl.”

“You try to make my head big.” She hummed as she put on her sandles.

“Baby, your head ain’t ever gonna grow big enough.” He teased her some more as his hands rested on her hips. “Your a pretty girl,” he leaned forward and kissed her collar bone. “And you don’t realize it.”

“I’m not that pretty.” She said softly.

“Beg to differ.” He stood up kissing her cheek. “Dead pretty.”

“Thank you.” She hugged him softly. The two of them had been Mr. and Mrs. Riley for four years.

He met her a year prior to their marriage during a mission. She was a pretty little civilian working her ass off in a library while she tried to finish her art degree. He was a lieutenant in the SAS. And the building she was in, had a bomb located in the center.

Task force 141 had the responsibility to defuse the bomb and evacuate the building.

Ghost could remember it clear as day. He was rushing around giving orders to civilians while (y/n) was staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, unsure if she should move because they could have been a threat to her safety, or if they thought she was the threat.

Needless to say, Gaz who was surprised by the lieutenants kindness in that moment with (y/n), knew he was a love sick puppy as soon as he set eyes on this little American woman.

Everytime Gaz retells the story, he always states something along the lines of ‘havin’ a hard time tellin’ who was the deer in headlights and who was the car about to run the deer over’. Soap would often talk about how everyone in the task force and who had been under Ghost’s command were jealous that she got all his soft and friendly words and they got ordered barked at them that day.

Needless to say, the universe, as cheesy as it was, had made sure their paths crossed so the two could be together.

Though everyone knew Ghost was in love when he gave her his mothers engagement ring as her own engagement ring. It was the last thing he had of his precious mother who had been tortured and killed by Roba. When they laid eyes on the gorgeous ring that had been worn by his mother many, many years ago, they knew he had found the woman he was going to settle down and come home to everyday, especially when his mother’s matching wedding band slipped on his wife’s finger during the wedding.

The wedding was truly something else, to (y/n) and Simon, it felt like a breath of fresh air finally being able to call one and another husband and wife even if they had been for months maybe even a year prior to wedding.

Simon could remember how ethereal (y/n) looked when she appeared from behind the doors. His breath had caught in his throat, and the tears had instantly welled up in his eyes. Soap had to pat his back as Simon—for the first time—had cried in front of many people.

The task force could have sworn it would have been (y/n) weeping heavily, but on that day it was Simon. And no one judged him for it, because she had for sure been the most beautiful bride, especially if you ask simon.

“Ready to go my dovie.” Simon hummed as he wore a white button down shirt and some slacks.

“Ready.” She grabbed his hand as she admired how his tattoos were on display. “You look charming.” She said softly as her eyes met his.

He could stare into those eyes for eternity.

“Mmm,” he leaned forward and kissed her. “Thank you baby.” He kissed her again. “Not as good as you, pretty girl.”

“Stop that!” She giggled as she stuck close to him.

“Never.” He hummed. Ghost had always been so playful with her, letting her see is fun side where many others didn’t get to see that from him. He always made her feel special though that was one thing for sure.

It didn’t take long for the two to arrive at the winery as they walked to the building to see Maria and John price already sipping on wine.

“What’ya want baby?” Simon asked as his hand was gently placed on her lower back.

“A sweet cider.” She said quietly as she was shooed around larger crowds.

“Mmm, want a pear apple cider?” He asked as he started a tab.

“Yeah.” She hummed as they waited. Her hands remained on his arms as she traced his tattoos. The bartender sat their drinks on the counter as they walked out the back to meet up with Maria and John.

“Well, well, well,” John stood up and shook Simon’s hand. “How’s it goin’ Simon.” The older man asked.

“Better everyday.” Simon hummed, a simple answer to how it truly was. Fantastic everyday when he was with (y/n).

Maria cooed softly at (y/n) as she was a very motherly person in general. “Oh darlin’, yer’ youth is refreshing to m’soul.” She hummed giggling as her accent was very Irsish and thick. “A wee baby’s skin isn’t as soft as yer’ skin.” She pinched (y/n)’s cheek gently. It didn’t take long for (y/n)’s cheeks to flare up in a rosy tint.

“Hi Maria.” (Y/n) greeted softly as she kissed the younger woman’s cheeks.

“Oh Simon, I imagine she’s keepin’ ya’ young as well with all her youth,” Maria teased the man. “We’re are ya’ two keepin’ the fountain of youth, Johnny and I could go for a dive.”

“Backyard.” Simon joked as he leaned down and hugged Maria as she kissed his cheeks as well as a greeting.

“Hi missy.” John hummed as he kissed your cheeks. “Keep him better behaved, he’s been causing me trouble at work.”

“I’m sorry,” (y/n) stifled a laughed as she looked up at Simon.

“Don’t you be givin’ my wife ammo.” Simon joked.

“I think your wife has plenty of ammo, me’lad.” Maria hummed. “Yer’ a soft husband, not like m’John who goes fishin’ and leave me with the screamin’ banshees.” She referred to her kids.

“Guilty as all be.” John smiled, sweet bliss for him.

They stood around and chatted as they waited for Gaz and Soap to appear. Of course (y/n) knew the two girls would be coming along as she tried to remember how to blend in so she wasn’t targeted.

“You’ll be targeted no matter what, m’girl.” Maria said softly. “Your a pretty lady, and them boys have known you for years ‘cause o’simon.” She hummed. “Pay’em no heed. If we need a break, you and I can always turn Hyde and walk in the vineyard.”

“Okay.” She said shyly. (Y/n) always felt like she dressed too kid-ish around them even if she was dressing more for her age, being 25. She sometimes believed she was too immature for Simon’s who was 32 and well prepared for life.

“Your so sweet, and so kind.” Simon whispered to her as he coddled her close to him. “So much sweetness, Dovie.”

(Y/n) flushed red and smiled up at Simon. She enjoyed his compliments but it often made her bashful.

“Ya’ look delightful, little one.” Maria smiled as she looked at your mature but youthful outfit. “Good thing Simon knows how to fight, these men would be all over ya’ if ya’ had that ring finger bare.” Maria hummed pointing at (y/n)’s ring finger smiling.

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” She brushed it off sweetly.

“I wish for your sake I could agree with ya’ but Simon’s already gave five different men the stink eye.” John chuckled lightly.

“No one fucks with my baby.” Simon said seriously.

That made (y/n) giggle as she patted Simon’s chest.

“I hope we didn’t miss the party.” Soap hummed as he walked hand and hand with his girlfriend. (Y/n) froze up a bit as she curled more into Simon taking a larger sip of her hard cider.

“Slow down.” Simon cooed softly. “No need to rush unless you would like to hug the porcelain throne tonight.”

“Sorry.” She said softly as she looked down to make sure her cleavage wasn’t too much.

Soap and Gaz were around her age, and the two were young, and they had a habit of staring, not on purpose, but because sometimes, (y/n)’s cleavage was a bit more on show depending on the shirts she wore. And she had a god given right to flaunt it. That’s what Farrah, Alex’s wife always told her when they were visiting her cousin in America. She loved her cousin's wife, finding comfort and understanding in her.

Ghost had snapped at the two before for staring, but he also couldn’t blame them. It was a good sight to see in his eyes.

“Anne, Lilliana.” Maria greeted with a polite smile.

Both women looked so elegant and wore beautiful dresses that spoke Italian villa. (Y/n) felt so out of place wearing a skort and a crop top. Too Americanized among a group of Europeans. The sharks were out today and they were gonna get her. Those sharks were named Lilliana, and Anne.

She smiled nervously saying a soft hi.

“You look so…youthful.” Lilliana said as she leaned against Gaz. (Y/n) could tell it was a forced smile and a fake compliment. They thought she looked immature.

“She looks very lovely, doesn’t she?” Maria smiled as she swooped the girl up and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “My eldest wants (y/n) to go to the boutique with her so (y/n) can help her shop for clothes.”

“Aye, the ladies can have a day out.” Soap hummed. “And us lads can go to the pub and watch footy.”

“Ya’.” Maria nodded, smiling gently. “We’ll have to plan something out.” She said softly.

Simon watched as his wife finished her cider as she looked at Anne and Lilliana’s outfits. He could see the swirling storm in her eyes comparing herself to them.

“Baby.” Simon said softly. He wished she’d understand she was breathtaking and that she shouldn’t compare herself to other women. In his eyes, until the day he dies and beyond that, he will always think she’s the most breathtaking woman. His hands gently brushed down her hair as he looked at her deep in the eyes.

He would continue to devour her with his eyes until she understood how exactly he felt.

“Yeah,” she said softly as she looked at her giant of a husband.

He felt himself melt at the sight of her looking up at him while her hand rubbed his chest gently.

“You wanna another cider?” He asked softly, his hand gently squeezing her hip.

“Yeah, I can come with you.” (Y/n) said softly as she followed him close.

His hand gently grabbed her as he guided her to the bar top again.

“How’s my pretty girl?” His voice was deep and had an edge of huskiness in it, maybe a bit breathy as well. It made (y/n) swell with love knowing that she got him worked up enough.

Her eyes glanced up at him as she smiled softly. “Better now that it’s you and me.” She said softly.

“To many people, baby?” He asked gently, looking at her with the softest eyes.

“Somewhat?” She looked away nervously. His hand rested on the thin of her back as they waited in line.

“What’s the matter?” He whispered into her ear. It was his way of saying ‘we can have a private conversation right here’.

She fiddled with his collar as she straightened it out. Her eyes glanced around nervously seeing how she wasn’t the only one dressed in the style she was, she had to remember Anna, Lilliana, and Mrs. Price were all older than her, so they would have a different fashion sense.

“Am I childish, overly youthful?” She whispered in his ears. He leaned forward as both his hands grabbed her hips tugging her closer.

He wondered what had got her thinking like that, then it dawned on him. Those two girls were always targeting you.

A month ago, (y/n) had come home crying, having gone out to lunch with the two girls and Mrs. Price, who made sure to deliver (y/n) personally at the Riley’s residence after the luncheon they had. She had been a crying mess blubbering in Simon’s arms all the while Mrs. Price was explaining to Simon what took place as she’s doing her motherly duties in soothing the younger woman.

Soap had thought it was a good idea for the two ladies to welcome the newcomers, who Gaz and Soap had started dating at the same time because the girls were best friends and they had met the two at the club.

Simon could remember Mrs. Price said that one of the newcomers had ‘accidentally’ fumbled their tea and split it all over his lovely wife. He could remember Maria quoting the air when she said accidentally with an eye roll. She knew it was on purpose. Simon knew it was on purpose.

“No dovie, you're beautiful,” he hummed. “I love ya’ just the way ya’ are.” His Manchester accent made it sound like honey. “You're dead gorgeous and I’ll tell ya’ forever until ya’ learn it.” He paused as he ordered their drinks as it was their turn after a few minutes of waiting. He had it put onto the tab he had opened earlier and would have to remember to close later. “Don’t ya’ be listening to those girls, they ain’t got nothin’ on my pretty little wife.” He smooched her cheek. “They’re jealous. Jealous of your gorgeous looks, your gorgeous attitude, your sweet like honey, pretty girl. Don’t let ‘em damper your mood.”

These were the very moments she knew she had made a good choice in marrying Simon. Because he picked up the broken pieces when she needed a bit more support. He let her cry in his arms over nothing until she was soothed and better. He held her hand as he made sweet love to her constantly praising her and making sure she was okay. He was the best husband she could have ever asked for.

“I love ya’ now pretty girl, I love ya’ forever,” he kissed her lips as she giggled softly.

“Love you too.” She hugged him as he brought her left hand to his mouth kissing her knuckles.

“You're my good girl, don’t let ‘em damper the mood tonight.” He smiled at her as the waitress brought the drinks to them, handing it off.

“Yes Si.” She nodded as she followed him back out behind tight against his side.

The night went on and very little trouble appeared.

Maria suggested (y/n) and her take a walk in the vineyard and plan a day out where the two could go with Moira—or Murray for short—and have a shopping spree.

“Ye’ boys be good, I’m takin’ m girl and chatting, don’t worry Simon, she’s with me.” Maria smiled as she put her hand on (y/n)’s waist and walked her into the growing garden of grapes.

“Hold up lassies, Anne, Liliana, go join ‘em.” Soap smiled as he waved them off. “Good fer ye’ gals to figure out their dynamics and then ye’ can have girls' nights.”

“Oh yes, join us.” Maria smiled as she held her disappointment. (Y/n) hid her face dropping as she looked at Simon who gave her a reassuring smile.

Maria would fight on his behalf.

“Let me see, Murray likes the kind of stuff yer’ wearing now. I’m my we’ babes mama, and I’m not good with her fashion even if she is a teen.” Maria laughed. “I could pick out an outfit and she’d yak and say, ‘mam it’s uglier than a tit’.”

(Y/n) giggled at Maria repeating what Murray said.

“Look, teens dress like you too.” Anne snickered and snorted with the other woman, making Maria give them a glare.

“Such…youthful…mmm…” Lilliana tapped her chin. “That’s not the word I’m looking for, more like childish outfits.” Lilliana nodded her head as she sipped her wine. “And you don’t drink wine like an adult, you drink hard cider, probably beer too.”

(Y/n) frowned as she looked ashamed.

“What are ye’ girls yapperin’ about, beer is good, hard cider is better than wine,” Maria corrected them. “And she is fashionable, and me’ daughter is 20, an adult, only 5 years younger then Mrs. Riley here.”

“25 she’s practically a baby.” Anne snorted. “Simon needs a woman, not a girl. Someone who’s mature, honey you don’t fit the bill.” (Y/n) felt that nagging feeling in the back of her head that said: ‘run…run away…no one will find you’. She was starting to think they were right, she was immature and Simon just didn’t know how to tell her that.

“Oh that man loves ya’ beyond all means, yer’ his Persephone.” Maria ignored them. “These fools are just jealous and tootin’ their own horn.”

Maria wasn’t afraid to tell people how it was. She was an outspoken woman. Mr. Price would often tell (y/n) to watch Maria and learn, body language the fact that no fucks were given when she was handling a person who pissed with her family.

Just like that one time a man said Harry sucked at footy. The wretched man said no one would want an imbecile playing footy when he didn’t know his left from his right. Maria, pounced quicker than John who sat back with a can of beer in his hands and a smirk on his face. (Y/n) could remember that one clear-as-day. Simon had leaned over and whispered to her to remind him to never oiss her off. It was terrifying for the two newlyweds nonetheless. (Y/n) was 21, and Simon was 28. The two were afraid they were gonna get a foot up their ass as well for something they did, but didn’t do.

“Let me see your gorgeous wedding rings.” Maria hummed. “He married ya’, and put those precious rings on yer’ finger cause he loves ya’ more than the world.”

Anne and Lilliana paused as they looked at the rings.

Their eyes met one and another as they smiled at each other.

‘Oh dear lord, no. God, no.’ (Y/n) thought to herself.

“Pretty ring,” Lilliana, hummed as they leaned forward. “Can we see?”

(Y/n) hesitated as she knew how important these were to Simon, in fact they were so important to her she hardly let anyone touch her hands.

She showed them from a distance but Anna quickly snatched her hand up making (y/n) squeak out.

“There my mama’s rings baby,” Simon hummed as he smiled at (y/n). “I want ya’ to wear ‘em, they’d look so pretty on your hands.” He kissed your knuckles. “Marry me, pretty girl, make me the happiest man in the whole wild world. Make my mama proud and wear her rings, please baby.” He was so sweet as he proposed to her overlooking Scotland's pretty scenery.

“Yes,” she sobbed.

“Atta’ girl,” Simon lurched forward kissing her as he put the engagement ring on her finger. “Let’s keep the other one tucked away safely so when I get to see you in a pretty dress.”

“These are important to me and Simon, please just look.” She gasped as they gripped her fingers tightly.

“Now ye’ brats let her go.” Maria swatted at their hands.

They didn't let go of (y/n)’s hands and actually started to tug on her ring finger. She was trying to push their hands away as she felt her eyes well up.

“Oh she’s a crybaby too, so immature.” Anna laughed.

“Oh it’s so pretty,” Lilliana started to slip the rings off her fingers as (y/n) tried everything to stop her. Maria did as she called them a nasty word in her native tongue, and tried to get the ring back.

“Now ye’ girls need some manners.” Maria snapped at them.

“Be a shame if they got lost, he might leave you then,” Anna snorted at Lilliana’s words.

She didn’t want Simon to leave her. She didn’t want those rings to be lost. She started to cry as she shut down not knowing what to do. Her anxiety was through the roof. She glanced at Maria with pure panic.

(Y/n) felt her breath stop, her whole world stop as they tossed them behind them like they were nothing. Lilliana and Anne threw each one back like they were nothing. Like they were senseless gold or fake jewelry that would tarnish the wearer’s finger green once the coating was off of it.

Her eyes widened as she watched Maria chase after the area they went to but she couldn’t see them because they had rolled. She didn’t know what to do other than to cover her mouth and sob. “My rings.” She whispered as she saw Maria sit up straight and look at her.

The other girls walked off laughing as they went deeper in the vineyard and hadn’t been seen for the hour Maria and (y/n) were in the ground searching.

Her sobs got louder as she lost faith in finding the rings Simon had gifted her.

“Calm down m’babe, go get the boys and they can help search, go get Simon m’love.” She hushed her and pushed her up to the grounds where the boys were sitting and laughing. She had her mouth covered as she sobbed quietly trying not to gain anyone’s attention.

What if Simon left her and the girls blamed her for the lost rings.

He knew better, those two girls had caused you more trouble over their jealousy. It was just that fact that the anxiety and the fear crept up in her mind.

“Her cousin and Farah are tryin’ for a baby,” Simon hummed softly. “Been givin’ me a bit of a baby fever. Never thought I’d be one for having my own kids, but here I am. She’d look gorgeous pregnant.”

His words would have made her heart beat a bit faster if it wasn’t for the fact that her rings were missing.

“(Y/n),” Price shot forward very fatherly over the girl since she didn’t have her father or mother who had sadly passed years ago. and he was the one to walk her down the aisle with Maria. “What’s wrong?”

Her knees were dirty, and her hands looked like they were digging in dirt.

Simon was the first to bolt out of his chair as she refused to look at any of them. Concern was etched on Simon’s face as he knew when she cried there was a reason, whether it was a silly one or not, it was enough to warrant him to coddle her and figure out what was wrong.

Her eyes never left the ground even as Simon cupped her face and tugged her close.

“Baby, what’s got you upset?” He was gentle as Price was behind her shielding her from other passerbys.

She sobbed and covered her mouth as her other hand clung to Simon. She felt light headed and terrified.

She knew she just needed to spit it out. “Maria and I…” she felt a hiccup break her words as she was crying heavily. “We’ve been searching for an hour.” She sniffled as she started to hyperventilate and her words started to get jumbled.

Simon’s heart cleaned as he brushed the hair from her face.

An hour? An hour of searching for what?

He wasn’t understanding, but he knew one thing: wrapping her up in his arms and getting her to calm down was the first thing to do.

“Shh, shh,” he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Shh, love it’s okay, it’s okay.” He smiled at her softly. “Deep breaths, nice and easy for me, pretty girl.”

She did some of that but other than that she was back to babbling and trying to get her words out.

“And I can’t find it.” She sobbed her hands refusing to clutch too tightly to his white shirt, knowing she’ll get it dirty.

Simon's concern deepened as he tried to make sense of (y/n)’s words. "Can't find what, love? What are you looking for?" He continued to hold her against him, one hand gently stroking her back to try and soothe her sobs.

Then her words were finally freed up knowing she needed to convey the message Maria sent her to tell the men.

“The girls asked to see our rings, and Maria and I didn’t know they were going to rip it off my finger. It hurt and we tried to stop them, and they threw both my wedding band and engagement ring.” She sobbed. “It was your mom’s wedding band and engagement ring, I can’t find them.” She felt like bile could escape from her mouth at any second.

“They did what!” Soap looked like he was gonna have a conniption while Gaz covered his mouth as he looked apologetically to the two of them.

Simon's eyes widened in shock as he processed (y/n)’s words. The girls had stolen her rings and thrown them away? And not just any rings, but his mother's wedding band and engagement ring.

Anger boiled within him, but he forced himself to stay calm. (Y/n)’s tears and pain took priority. He held her tighter against him, his voice strained. "Those bloody girls. They’re gonna pay for this.”

“I can’t find them.” She huffed as more tears welled up in her pretty eyes.

“I’m gonna go talk to the manager and make sure they know that we have a missing engagement ring and a missing wedding band.” Price patted Simon on the back. He disappeared quickly as Simon rubbed his wife’s back trying to soothe her as he whispered to her.

“We’re gonna find them baby, I won’t stop looking until they're back in your fingers.” He kissed her cheek. “So breathe baby, we’re not leaving until they're back on your finger.”

“I’m gonna go down with Maria and start searching in the area she thinks she saw them go.” Soap said as he looked at the two of them. “We’ll find them.” He reassured the two.

“Better find them, and you better keep those rotten women away from my wife!” Simon snarled at the two men.

“Yes LT.” They saluted.

Simon stuck close to (y/n) as he tried to calm her rapid heartbeat and her fears that didn’t seem to be washing away until she saw those rings in either his hands or her own hands.

Johnny and Gaz looked in the area’s Maria had pointed to them, while her and John searched the area she swore up and down it landed at.

The doubt and fear hadn’t settled in (y/n)’s stomach, right now she wished it would go away. She was about ready to throw up all that dinner that Simon worked hard to cook her.

“We’re not gonna find them.” She felt her anxieties creep into the back of her mind.

“Baby, we’re not leavin’ until those damn things are back in that hand.” He pointed to her left hand. “I promise you that.” He cupped her face.

“But Simon,” she was exhausted. “What if…what if we don’t find them?” She fretted as she looked at her husband with tears falling down her cheek.

Simon placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He knew how much those rings meant to his wife, and the thought of losing them was torture for him.

He knew from day one they had made her feel special, feel well loved by her husband who adored her so much. She felt like it was her fault she lost them and it was on her now that they were missing not having protected his precious rings.

He gave (y/n)’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, his voice low and reassuring. "We'll find them, love. I promise. We won't stop until we do.”

It’s all she needed to hear and take in to slowly get back to searching. It had taken him multiple times to finally get it through her head he would have those rings back as soon as he could find them.

“You gave those to me hoping I would keep them safe since they were my engagement and wedding bands but I couldn’t.” She cried softly as she searched the ground near him.

Simon's heart clenched at her words.

Yes, he had given (y/n) his mother's rings with the hope that she’d keep them safe. But he never expected her to be put in this situation. Who would? He’d never expect two girls to be that jealous and put his wife in this much emotional turmoil.

"Love, it's not your fault," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “You didn’t ask for this. Those bloody girls had no right to touch your rings. They had no right to touch you, pretty girl.” He stopped and filled her face. “And I’m gonna protect you until the day I die, and if that means tellin’ them girls off, then that’s what the hell I’ll do.”

Their hands searched the ground as their eyes looked everywhere. It wasn’t until thirty minutes later Maria bounced up with excitement and happiness.

“I found one, ye’ lads keep yer’ eyes open for the engagement ring, I found the wedding band!” She shouted happily as she rushed over to (y/n) gently placing the ring on her finger. “Sweet babe, we’ll find it, I promise.”

Simon watched as Maria comforted the woman he loved so dearly. His anger subsided momentarily, replaced by relief and gratitude to Maria for her kindness. There was truly something special about the mother of three.

"We will," he said, agreeing with Maria. His voice was more steady now. "We'll find that engagement ring, even if we have to tear this place apart."

The two of them went back to searching as they looked through the ground as thoroughly as they could.

It wasn’t until another fifteen minutes had passed after Maria came barreling with the wedding band that they had found the engagement ring.

Simon's eyes caught a glint of something shiny among the blades of grass. He crouched down, gently pushing the grass aside to get a clearer view.

His heart nearly stopped as he saw what it was—(y/n)’s engagement ring.

He had found it, he felt his heart flutter as all that stress and worry subsided and it was gone. The relief was back and he couldn’t be happier than ever to present the ring back to his precious wife who had been stressing and withering as the time went on.

"Love, come here," Simon called out, his voice calm but urgent. He motioned for her to come closer, his eyes never leaving the small glint of gold in the grass.

He plucked the object from the ground and smiled seeing the ring shine in the golden rays that were the sun's final moments before the moon came out. “Come now my pretty girl.”

As soon as (y/n) reached his side, he held up the engagement ring, showing it to her. "I found it, love. I found it."

She felt her mind go blank and her eyes well up as she let out a sob lurching forward and hugging Simon.

Simon wrapped his arms around (y/n) holding her tightly in his embrace, tears streaming down her face. He held the woman tight, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.

"It's alright now," he whispered, his voice soothing. "We found it, love. We found your ring." Simon carefully placed the engagement ring back on his wife’s finger, his touch gentle yet firm. As he did, he couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on her cheek as a way to reassure her everything was alright. "It suits you," he said, a hint of a smile on his face. "It always has. Looks gorgeous on my girl.”

She wiped her eyes as her hands found the back of his neck as her nails scratched into the base of his hair.

“I’m so sorry I lost it,” she murmured into his neck. “I didn’t mean to lose your mama’s ring.”

Simon gently cupped her face in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring. He wiped away her tears with his thumb.

"Don't apologize, love," he said softly. "Those girls took them without your consent. It's not your fault. And you didn't lose them—we found them.”

(Y/n) knew Ghost would defend her until his last breath, and even at that, he would transcend and defend her for beyond human measure.

“I love you,” (y/n) said softly.

Ghosts hand gently caressed her face as he wiped her tears away. “Love you too, pretty girl.” His voice was breathy and a whisper.

(Y/n) was glad she wasn’t in the mix when Ghost confronted the two girls. She could hear the words Ghost growled to them as he lectured them on proper treatment of people in general.

He sounded in that moment, more like a lieutenant than he did her husband and it was a strange thing to hear in his voice when he had always been soft and cute with her.

“He’s gonna be a good father.” Maria hummed as she stood proudly with her hands on her hips.

“Yeah he will,” (y/n) smiled as she rocked in her feet back and forth waiting for him to return to her.

When he did return, (y/n! spent the rest of the night tucked to his side constantly on the receiving end of his hushed whispers of love and adoration.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed as she looked up at him.

“Yeah?” She said softly, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“Ready to go home, pretty girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on pretty girl,” he smirked at her as she knew that look. “I think I need to remind you how pretty you truly are.”

Those words were a reminder that this night could last even longer than she thought they would.

“Yeah pretty girl?”

“Yeah.”

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skyrigel · 3 months

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“The Great War : Part 2”

Pairing: Benjicot “Davos” blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Part 1 of “The great war”

Part 3 of “The great war”

Benji masterlist

“ Benji makes a move, Aeron demands his sister back, you learn the truth—prehaps you would survive the great war after all ”

~ fluff, food feeding, flirty Benji, ‘Darling’ is basically his love language, mention of abduction, bashing Aeron Bracken ( loml)

Wc: 2k

There will be one more part consisting: wedding, smut and jealousy, a happily ever after. Join the taglist<3 xoxo

Request for Aemond, Jace and Aegon are open <3

Two days, you sighed, two days living on false hopes and whispered prayers, the smell of smoke still fresh on your skin.

Bright light shimmering inside and took refuge in your darkness as the flap opened, you looked up from your blood soaked gown and feral watery eyes, sore from tears and hopes.

“ Won't you eat anything darling? ” Benji smiled, despite his words carrying a tone of disappointment, his gaze lingering off the untouched food as he reached you.

Sitting down next to you, his back pressed against your cot, floor cold under your bodies.

“ C'mon, you will die if you won't eat.” His fingers brushed your jaw and you pulled back, turning your face to the outside chatter.

“ Wouldn't that be better ? ” you turned to him, He only beamed more, always flattered to have your attention.

“ No.” He said, bringing the plate towards you, “ Because your brother wouldn't like that and me ? I would be wrecked without you sweetheart.”

“ My brother ? ” you perked up, Benji shredded the loaf, dipping it in the cherry crushed jam.

“ Yes, your brother.” Benji cocked his head, bringing the loaf to your mouth, “open” he mouthed, you hesitated but eventually obliged.

“ When will he come ? ” you asked instantly, feeling your throat dry from days refusing food and water.

“ Bracken's were seen on the east fronts, if everything —” He brought another bite to you, “ — plays out good then he would be here by tommorow.”

“ Oh.” Your lips brushed his finger, Benjy's mouth twitched, “ I can eat by myself.” you said hurriedly, avoiding his eyes that could easily devour you.

“ I know darling.” He said calmly, Ben looked different in this light, his face clear from blood and gore, eyes not blinded by war and chaos but just himself, he was feral, you knew it, knew damn well all his bloodiness but this Benji who visited you everytime in these past two days, his skin clear, his youth shining, his words sweet, his tactics new to feed you, it felt like the very first time. You felt more dirty in the clothes he abducted you, refusing to bathe or change or eat, fingers dirty under your nails. It was a relief he was feeding you.

“ Then let me.” You didn't open your mouth when he brought the sweet loaf to you, his eyes softening as he shaked his head.

“ You are in my care, so you don't get to fret.” He pushed his thumb on your mouth, parting your lips in a gasp, too stunned to form any sentences, let alone for a comeback, you ate.

“ No.” you said, when he started spreading cheese on another peice of bread, his fingers red with cherry jam, like blood.

“ Huh ? ” he looked up, placing tomatoes on the loaf along with cooked meat.

“ Not hungry.” you looked away, not that you weren't, but you hated how your heart raced everytime he was near, hated how you would do anything if he said it the right way, hated how stupid he made you feel.

He dismissed as your stomach churned, embarassing you but he made no note of it, busy in making a flower with his toppings.

“ I thought about asking for your hand in marriage, the first time we met.”

“ We never met. You saw me and I saw you.” you snapped at him, Benji chuckled as he bit his lower lip, you looked away.

“ I thought you didn't remember making eyes at me.”

“ I was just looking ! ” your face grew warm, your heart lept inside your ribs, you wondered if he could hear it.

And sometimes you thought he did, Benji could breathe your hunger, sense your desires and it left you spiralling — did he know ?

“ ofcourse you were just looking, darling.” He was finished decorating the loaf like it wasn't going to be eaten but preserved through the centuries.

“ Stop calling me darling.”

“ Why ? Don't tell me you don't like it.”

“ I don't like it.” you glared at him, he waved you off, pouring wine in two goblets.

“ Then don't blush like that.” He sucked at his cherry smeared fingers, his mouth was warm and pink, soft like a breeze, how soft and sweet...so soft on your lips—fuckity fuck.

You flushed, feeling heat shoot up your spine, slowly crawling it's way to your face.

You grabbed the goblet, downed it one swig, ‘it's the wine’ you would jab at him if he pointed the crimson glow of your skin.

But he never did, Benji watched with his smug face, as your throat bobbled down the whole drink in one go, smiling to himself.

“ It would've been nice if your brother wasn't an idiot.”

“ Say that again.” You frowned at him, ready to bang his head with the decorated loaf if you had to, how dare he ?

“ No offence darling.” He shifted closer to you, running a hand through his hair, you winced at his sticky fingers but it was Benji, he would look good doing anything, stupid or immoral, anything and you shuddered at the feeling he tingled inside you. Stop !

“ but your brother ruined everything, first he declared for the cun—unworthy Aegon and then when I tried to make peace—”

“ oh, the bloodshed ? ” You glanced at him and he looked hurt for a moment before he recovered with a widened shit eating grin of his, streching from ear to ear.

“ It was your Brother and his plan.”

“ No.”

“ Well you have got no reason to believe me and you shouldn't until I prove myself to you, House Bracken and house Blackwood never got along and on that table when I saw you, I saw hope, I didn't mind if Aeron asked for lands or rivers or people or glory as long as he would bless us but...” You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his face crinkling,he wasn't crying but it was there, a proof that he could, “...He and his gitty lords betrayed my trust, no honour, no word keeping—”

“ Stop, please stop.” You brought your knees to your chest, feeling your insides hollow as he spoke and spoke, making you wonder whose sword it was that swinged first that day, his or Aeron's, which man died first, his or your own, because every word he said felt true to his soul and Benji did many things to you, kidnapped you, threatened you, played his silly little games with you but all and all, he never lied, not even to feed you, not even to gain your trust.

You were so doomed.

“ You should rest, darling.”

“ Go away.” You buried your face in the dip of your knees.

“ Right.” He closed his mouth, getting up from the floor, “ Aeron will come for you and this time we could actually talk about peace.”

He added sincerely, before smoothening your hair as you refused to look at him, feeling everything you believed crumble, going upside down.

“ Eat that when you're hungry.” and with that he left.

~~~

Benji was true to his word, By afternoon two maids came in, holding a dress, it was just a simple cotton gown with red flowers embroided and despite almost three days of refusing to do anything that was told,

You finally gave in, feeling your body melt in the hot water as soft hands brushed your back, combing through your hair.

Blood, smoke and many other things rubbed off your skin, you were finally clean.

Your eyes widened, heart bloomed as two men in cloak escorted you in front of a tent, biggest in the whole camp after where you were kept.

“ Go inside.” One said and you reasiled she was a woman, you weren't going to be told twice before you entered, it was lit only with candles. You squinted your eyes and before them stood your brother.

Aeron looked up, his eyes moistened as he saw you, joy knew no bounds as it filled inside you.

“ Sister.” He was already on his feet, circling the room as he ran and took you in his arms, picking you off the floor and swinging you midair.

“ you're okay ? ” you asked him, once he let you down and he nodded, bumping your nose, “ I should ask you that.” He said grimly, shooting a glare towards Benjicot, who was watching the whole reunion with a scowl on his face.

His scowl disappeared as you followed your brother's gaze to him, smiling brightly as he waved at you.

“ Now that we are all here,” Benjicot announced, and you were suddenly aware of many other unrecognisable faces in the room, all with pride and loyalty in their eyes, “let us discuss some very important matters that have continued to become a pain in our ass.” Benji looked at Aeron, who bristled away, taking your hand as he went to sit opposite from Benji on the council table amongst his important men.

“ Not there.” Benji said sweetly to you, immediately the chair next to him was pulled, “ Little dove, here.”

You blinked, glancing at your brother whose face was clamped in a bitter line.

Remembering your place and territory, you walked to his side, sitting next to him.

“ Did you sleep well last night, darling ? ” He leaned back as wine was poured to each lord, some of them were eyeing Aeron and his men very suspiciously, some only smiled with smirks plastered to their hard faces.

You gave him one pointed look before turning back to your brother.

The council began with a very drunk man howling how House Bracken took everything from him, fluent in curses as he threw one after another before you groaned.

“ Take Lord Hawthorne away, he clearly needs rest.” Benjicot said, as two hands helped the said lord out, still telling Aeron how he could fuck himself.

“ Now that we are back again—”

“ I want my sister back.” Aeron made his point, slamming his fist, his hair falling down from his bun at the force.

“ very well.” Benji smiled, all the lords hummed or tutted, like they knew something only the Brackens didn't.

“ last time when we talked about any exchange, you stabbed me in the back.” you watched Aeron for any sign of denial, you were disappointed, shit, “ which is a metaphor, ofcourse, you talked about peace, killed my men, offered your sister and took her away from me.”

“ There was no betrothal.” Aeron said simply, avoiding your gaze. Benji's laugh was humourless, more threatening.

“ You promised and I am asking for that promise back.”

“ In no life I would let that happen.”

“ Then you will face consequences lad.” one man spoke, he was older, his skin slacked around his arms and nerves popped up blue.

“ Your brother is stupid.” Benji leaned and whispered to you, as the council crackled at the old man's words.

“ What are your terms ? ” You asked him instead, knowing Aeron's eyes on you.

Benji's mouth curved in a smirk, his nose almost brushing yours.

He looked towards your brother, to catch his eye and when he did, he became the man you met on that table years ago for the first time, chiseled jaw, mischievous eyes, beautiful and crazy.

“ Marry me.”

Something dropped and you wondered if it was your heart, but that was just Lord Fester who passed out with wine pouring out on his face, and ofcourse your heart too.

You might still survive the great war.

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 7 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐬𝐫/𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𓍼 𐙚 𓍢ִ໋🀦

art cred: gnillhem (x), howdong_ (x), mimmirii_ (insta)

❀ synopsis: how various men would love their chubby gfs <3

❀ genre: smut

❀ a/n: as a chonky gal myself this was so fun to write, also this was an ankn req from my old blog!

❀ tags: nsfw, mirror sex, praise, explicit, vulgar, cunnalingus, riding, fluff(?)

❀ Gallagher- You can’t tell me this man isn’t obsessed with curvy women. Absolutely enthralled by all your dips and mounds; feasting his eyes all over your figure and making sure no one in the bar ogles over you too hard. Just a little is fine though. Only a little.

He’s definitely possessive over you, but not controlling in the slightest.

In public, he’ll hug you from behind and squeeze you lovingly. And when you nap he’ll lay his head down on your stomach with his body inbetween your legs, loving when you graze your hand through his hair.

His hands though, love to hold every part of your body when you’re on top of him; especially your hips.

“Oh, god, right there,” you moaned, as his hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements up and down his cock. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as your skin pressed together, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your clit. He relished in the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, his hands roaming up her back, down your sides, never wanting to let go.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

❀ Wrio- Doesn’t necessarily care about body types, but is obsessed with thighs. Doesn’t matter where, if he’s seated next to you his hand will be placed on your knee like a brace. He rubs them with his thumb, even if he’s driving they’ll be all over you. He’s always touching you, feeling your skin against his.

Oh yeah, by the way, he’s obsessed with your thighs. So much so that he’d do anything to be buried in them.

“Stay still…” He’d plead, muffled monotone coming from between your legs as is face is stuffed in the middle. His tongue traces up and down your exposed slit, hands gripping onto the fat of your thighs as his face is completely engulfed from side to side, marked up with marks of his teeth and colors of deep purple from his tender kisses.

“Wrio-“ You moan out- tempting to open your legs as the pleasure arose, earning a loud and stinging slap on your ass from your lover.

“Still.” He affirms, continuing to wring all the cum out of you, lapping it up while massaging your thighs with his palms.

❀ Diluc- Incredibly flaunting of you, you’re his beautiful prized possession. Not that your a trophy wife, but it would be a crime against teyvat to keep the world from seeing you.

Diluc especially loves to see you in the finest silks and chiffon.

The only thing he loves to see you in other than the most expensive fibers, is just nothing at all.

Every time he undresses you, his breath hitches at the sight of your benevolence. He loves the way you feels under his touch.

His favorite way to undress you, is right infront of the mirror. Standing behind you, he unties the buttons that trail down your back. It’s his favorite dress on you, but it’s subjected to the cold marble floors like every other peice of clothing he’s torn off you.

Slowly he drops the sleeves down, moving your hair out the way so he can plant kisses to your neck, one hand snaked around from behind you to hold your neck. The other groping and squeezing your breasts, before trailing down to feel your wet folds inside your panties.

“Pull these off.” He says, and you eagerly comply, sliding your panties to the side as he watches you infront of him in the reflection.

He takes in the sight before him, his eyes roaming over your exposed body, making you feel vulnerable yet completely safe in his embrace. 'You're perfect,' he whispers, before he turns his lips to descend on yours, igniting a fire within you that can only be extinguished by him.

It’s not long before he has you sitting on the dresser opposite of the mirror so he can force you to watch him fuck you. So that you can see how hungry he is for you, with your own two eyes.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

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evilminji · 6 months

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*evil grin of The Ponderings™*

You know who DEFINITELY would have Unfinished Business?

Heroes. Professional "If I could just MOVE, just fight a BIT LONGER, save ONE MORE PERSON" Heroes. It's the ultimate and unending Unfinished Business. To protect people. Not just their friends, their co-workers, but the innocent people around them.

That kid, stuck crying in the rubble.

That business man, screaming in pain, caught in the cross fire.

The People NEED them. They SWORE. Their very SOULS burn with the NEED to help. But... the flesh gave out. Injuries. Age. Quirk overuse. They knew... they KNEW, this was not a safe line of work... but... but! Please! Just one more person! Why can't they just make their breaking, dying, bodies MOVE!

Of course they refuse to move on.

They are needed HERE.

Yet? Their hands pass through. Their voices do not reach. A hell of their own, unknown, making. They can't let go, but they can't HELP either. There isn't enough Ectoplasm here. The walls of their reality overly patched up, since that unfortunate leak a few centuries back.

After all, the Zone had dumped near lethal quantities of unfiltered Ecto into the atmosphere. They're STILL dealing with the mutations and fall out, aren't they? At least, they are according to the Zone. (Wtf is a "Quirk"?) And, yeah, someone should PROBABLY do an assessment on the ecological recovery of the Reality. But like?

Do you have any idea how few people have an Obsession for stuff like that? Wait your turn! The list is long and you're not fuckin special, okay? The agents are BUSY.

Now, you might wonder? Wait. If they aren't moving on. Are DEFINITELY Ghosts. Starving as they are. Refusing to die as they may be. Wouldn't... Wouldn't that leave the whole ass area around their Reality an ecological dead zone? If it got over patched and no Ghosts LEFT, thus noticed, and started to try and work on it from the outside? Assuming the COULD?

Yeah. Yeah it would be!

It's called the "New Wastes"!

There used to be some cool Lairs around there. But there was a turf dispute. Someone DID something. Punched a HOLE. And everyone re-died. It was fixed but never quite re-healed. Portals... don't show up there? For some reason? Meh. Wanna brawl?

No. Danny's curious. He wants ANSWERS.

It's his fatal flaw.

Well... that and his inability to keep his mouth shut. But he likes to think he's funny. So... off he goes! And MAN! Does it feel funky out there! Weird textures. Mmmm, Don't Like THAT ™. It's probably a King thing? The Zone here... FEELS wrong.

Not... the way it's SUPPOSED to be shaped, if that makes sense?

And? It feels... if you sorta squint? Like... a LOT of people AREN'T where they should be. But aren't gonna leave until they're READY. Ooof. Great. Someone messed up again. Why does he KEEP FINDING bits and pockets that need straightening out? Unruffling? It's like he has to keep smooth out this giant peice of fabric with all these stains on it. Clean the messes on it.

He feels more like a maid then a King.

Maybe he is?

Pretty sure he's more of a nanny, since the Zone is more of a whiny yet excitable toddler then anything else. Alright, let him in. And fix... whatever THAT is.

So he steps into the Reality and? Huh. Japan. Neat. He always meant to go, never got around to it. Why is that man an otter?

.......oooohohooo, this place was HELLA fucked up by Ectoplasm, wasn't it? This is multi generational exposure. It's in the air. The water, ground, buildings. But stale to the point of stagnation. That can't be healthy. At least a few people he sees have developed ecto-resistance, thank the Ancients.

Danny discovers there are? "Superheroes"? Or just... heroes, apparently. They sell shampoo lines and athletic gear. Villians are petty criminals and psychopaths. All lumped together. He gets fuckin CHASED by the COPS and half the cities spandex patrol, called a "villian" (you know, like the purse snatchers and the DUDE WHO TRIED TO OPEN FIRE ON A CROWD) for flying around trying to assess the situation. Not speaking Japanese fast enough.

Soooorry! He TRIED to answer your confusing barked demands! This isn't his native language! He's translating through Ghost Speech! He knows it sounds unsettling to the living! It's the best he's GOT, man! (Asshole)

He escapes, obviously, because he's not 14 anymore. And honestly? He could top 200mph or so AT 14. He's only gotten faster. Intangible flight means no wind drag, motherfuckers~! OR need to dodge buildings! HA. Try to follow him through THE GROUND!

A few Blob sucked (to remove the ectoplasm) bits of treasure later? And he leaves a pawn shop with local currency. Thank YOU shady pawn shop! Ask him no questions, he'll tell you not lies. Enjoy Pariah's gold.

He does tourist things. Buy foods he's never tried, wanders around. Sees what's needed. Noticed a lot of people struggle with some aspect of the ecto-mutations brought on by the extreme Limnality. Need accessibility aids.

.....well, he IS a Fenton. His parents would disown him on the SPOT if he left with out at least TRYING to help. So he tracks down one the local ghosts. He'll need a guide or two.

He? VASTLY underestimates how desperate a sea of Obsession Starved Hero and Vigilante Ghosts will act, the INSTANT, they realize not only someone can see them... but it's? Their "Boss"? They aren't sure HOW they know that. But they DO. It's THE Boss. Here to help them! Asking for HELP ™ from THEM!

Yes

YES THEY CAN DO THAT

He gets swarmed. Hundreds of ghosts fighting over each other. Shouting. Turning on each other like rabid animals. All worn down and ragged by their Obssesion starvation. He's forced to shout over them.

And? Holy shit, these are only the ones from THIS CITY, too.

Thank Zone, again, he's no longer 14. That he has friends who are Rulers ™ that taught him HOW to Rule. To delegate. Pretend he TOTALLY knows what he's doing. That every action is on purpose.

It takes less then two hours, with all the experienced Unground Heros help, to make himself a Real Boy and buy a building. Put himself into the correct databases. He officially has licenses for things he's never studied. Is a tax paying citizen. Even belongs to several local clubs.

Over the next few days? He sets up his new... oi! Quickdraw! What're they called again? Right. "Lifestyle Support Company" which? Is a dumb name. But, Fenton Works is Fenton Works. Somehow he always kinda knew he'd be inherenting. It's in a cruddy part of town and the prices are cheap as he can safely get um.

He already had two customers, even though half the building isn't even fully set up. Which? I mean... he gets it. Poor guy. Knives for hands. Sharp ones too. The other guy's Obsession made him emotionally react to colors and like three different ones were ruining his life. So, hand Prosthetics controllable by knives and color filtering wrap around glasses.

Took him a lunch break or two.

Changed THEIR lives.

Suddenly his shop is packed. Schedule screaming for relief. And the ghosts? Getting more tangible by the day. See, his work shop? Ecto proofed. Let's him relax. But it ALSO let's him radiate fresh, clean, Ecto out into the air. And as King? With a direct line to The Zone? He puts out a lot.

There start to become Sightings.

People who SWEAR they saw long dead Heros out of the corner of their eyes. Dead vigilantes. That was who through that bottle. Who tripped that thug at just the right moment. Who unlocked the door. The SWEAR. They aren't crazy!

And... at first? Brushed off. Stress does a lot of crazy thing to a person, ma'am. But? How do you brush off, making eye contact with your dead best friend? Your old mentor on the other roof? That vigilante, who you WATCHED bleed out? Can you brush them off... when a vigilante from the dawn of quirks, punches some two bit villian on live television? Calls the Heros on the scene gloryhounds? Goverment dogs?

Runs from the cops and vanishes into thin air?

When this shit KEEPS HAPPENING?

Is spreading?

Are... are you supposed to arrest them for illegal vigilantism? How? They're THE proto-Heros! You don't want your name tied to that! The HPSC is furious. The goverment is uneasy. There are like... 6 dudes and a lady, openly stalking some kid in UA. Trying to mentor him. He looks moments away from a nervous breakdown.

Us too, kid. Us too.

All? While Danny? Is just sitting in his lil shop. Tinkering. Not HIS problem. Gotta let the ghosts here get it out of their system. Get their Obsession's full. Then it's all aboard the Zone Train. He's just here to make sure no one does anything "Too Crazy".

What's HIS definition of "too crazy"?

Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy~☆

@hdgnj @lolottes @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn

#dp x bnha #minji's writing #just here for moral support au #ghostly Heroics au

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enwoso · 11 days

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PINK SKIES — alessia russo

this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.

this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍

WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.

"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.

alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.

alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.

it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.

"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.

"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.

"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.

but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.

some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.

"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.

you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.

it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.

a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.

but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.

you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.

“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.

“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.

both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.

you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.

alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.

"your actually coming to london!"

"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”

"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"

"me neither y/n, me neither."

or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.

alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.

both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.

everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.

but for you it couldn't have been further from that.

after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.

you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.

if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?

if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.

if the team conceded it was your fault.

if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.

in the eyes of the public you could do no right.

but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.

in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.

but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.

“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.

“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.

a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.

“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.

alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, “y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”

a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.

“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.

alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”

lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.

“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.

“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.

“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.

“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.

“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.

“i wish tomorrow came”

you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.

the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.

after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?

any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.

any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"

alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.

it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.

she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.

however tomorrow for you, never came.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lotte wubben moy #enwoso

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hollyhomburg · 8 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

398 notes · View notes

calypsocolada · 7 months

Text

CAPTAIN | r. zoro

synopsis: the captain of the hockey team really gets on your nerves. authors note: hi! i'm back from the dead to offer this fic! i saw a tik tok and got inspired. it was a sports au of hockey player zoro and I was obsessed and wrote this! hope you guys like :) might write a part two since I really like this pairing. also was thinking of doing a series where all the one peice characters play different kinds of sports :)

cw: sports au!, hockey player zoro, not proofread, slightly suggestive wc: 3.5k

click here for my masterlist

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You would venture to say you're a pretty reasonable person. You never got angry easily, or upset. You kept it together pretty well usually.

Usually.

Today… Well, today was an exception. Actually it was always an exception when Rorona Zoro was in the rink. He was one of those rowdy hockey players that you would mostly ignore. You worked at the ice rink on weekends and most of the time you got lucky. The players would either be at away games or out partying on weekends. But not Roronoa Zoro. If you could say one nice thing about him it was that he is dedicated to his craft. You had the displeasure of being stuck talking with him and a few of his hockey buddies one day. Who knew this one day would taint the rest of the times you saw him.

His hockey friends were desperate, you’d think they’d never talked to a human woman before in their life the way they pounced on you. Asking you tons of questions about your life, if you had someone, who was your type, did you fancy anyone. By the time they were done asking you felt as though it was an interrogation. You were about to tell them you had to get back to work when suddenly Zoro spoke first.

“Leave the girl alone.” He’d walked out of the showers, his green hair damp and messy. “She clearly doesn’t like being interrogated.” He grumbles. The rest of the team sighs but they listen to the green haired man, leaving you be. You watch as they head back towards the showers, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks.” You had said, he shrugged.

“You should learn to speak up for yourself, rink girl.” He says and before you can respond he’s gone back towards the locker room.

Asshole.

After that you didn’t even spare him a glance, let alone a moment of your time. When he’d check in you’d slide the clipboard over to him not even looking up. It was a bit petty but you felt slightly vindictive towards him. Maybe not entirely towards him but also the company he keeps. His other hockey friends are atrocious to be around. They stare and ask for your number and try to eat lunch with you and just bother you relentlessly. Also despite them all claiming to have interest in you they call you rink girl because of Zoro even though your name is on a tag on the front of your shirt.

Days like today were no different. Once again two of the players were at your desk, asking about your day and pretending to care.

“Still no guy?” The blond one asks, you never learned their names since they didn’t care to learn yours. You clicked your pen, you had paperwork to do and were in a particularly bad mood.

“Still no girl?” You snap, the blond one pouts but the brunette one snorts a laugh.

“I see why Captain likes you so much.” The blond one mutters under his breath. You barely hear it, your brows furrowing.

“What?”

“Dude… shut up.” The brunette intercepts, knocking the blond in the back of the head. The familiar ding of the front door sounded as Zoro entered the building. “Oh shit… let’s go, hurry!” The blond gasps, you watch the two players practically sprint and trip over each other to get away from your desk. You furrow your brows as Zoro clears his throat. It makes you jump.

“Jesus!” You gasp.

“No, it’s Roronoa.” He says as he watches you place a hand over your heart, the other grabbing the clipboard for him to sign.

“Ha-ha.” You mock, sliding it to him. For the first time in a while you look at him. It’s cold out so he’s bundled up slightly, his cheeks lightly dusted pink from the cold. He’s almost… handsome? You never really noticed. You can’t look away… well until his eyes meet yours. You look away quickly as he clicks the pen and places it on the clipboard, sliding it back to you. When you reach to grab it back your fingers just barely grace his hand. He’s warm, despite just being out in the cold. You clear your throat, pulling your hand away quickly, busying yourself with your paperwork again.

“Hey,” He says as your hand pauses and you slowly look up at him. He looks at you for a moment, as though he’s trying to read something on your face.

“What?” You ask, slightly concerned that he’s lingering at your desk more than usual.

“I saw those two idiots talking to you.” He says and you're not sure if it’s a question or a statement so you nod your head. His jaw tenses as he sighs heavily. “Are they bothering you?” He asks. You stare at him for a moment, trying to read his face to know whether or not he was messing with you. He was infinitely serious.

“No. I can take care of myself.” You say with a tad bit of venom in your voice. He nods his head, the look in his eyes unreadable.

“Good.” He says and with that walks towards the locker room without another word. You watch him go, very confused.

A few hours pass as you walk back to your desk after lunch. The players are leaving for the day, some of them wave at you and you wave back halfheartedly. When the blond and brunette from earlier today pass they walk past you like wounded dogs, very clearly avoiding looking in your direction. Zoro isn’t with him curiously and as it gets later you see he’s the only one who hasn’t checked out and since the rink is closing soon you sigh and hop up from your chair. You walk into the locker room first, silence fills as you poke your head around the corner. Sure enough his locker is open and full of his stuff. You make your way towards the rink you know he’s in there before you even catch sight of him. You hear the sound of his hockey stick smacking against the puck sending it flying through the air, it swishes into the net with ease. A perfect shot. He hasn’t noticed you watching as he sails across the ice to retrieve the puck and set up again for another drill. He’d gotten much better in the months he practiced here. He played like a possessed man, much different from the person you watched practice months and months ago. Not that you knew anything about hockey but there was a reason this man was the captain.

“Enjoying yourself?” Zoro calls out to you. You jump again for the second time again, blowing out a breath, holding your heart again. “Someone’s jumpy.” He mumbles as he lines up a shot, sending it sailing down the ice into the goal. You clear your throat.

“We close in six minutes.” You call out to him coldly, turning.

“Hey,” He calls out to you. You're not sure why but you pause, turning as he skates to you, the only thing shielding him from you was a thick piece of acrylic glass that spanned the entirety of the ring. “You play?” He asks as you furrow your brows.

“Hockey?” You ask, looking up at him. Was he always this damn tall? He nods his head, reaching up and wiping sweat from his brow. You scoff, slightly amused.

“No.” You answer and his eyes travel from your own down your body then slowly, agonizingly slowly back to your eyes. You're blushing by the time he meets your eyes again.

“Think you can block me?” He asks and you stare at him incredulously, it takes you a long moment to answer.

“W-what?” You question, he cocks his head, smirking down at you.

“I said… Do you think you could block me?”

“I heard you.” You sigh. “And no… I don’t think I could block you.”

“Why not?” He asks, leaning against the glass.

“B-because you're like eight foot tall and hundreds of pounds.”

“Ouch… you make me sound like a monster.” He tsks, still with that grin on his lips.

“You are… you're huge.” You say and a second later your words cause you to blush and look away.

“Uh huh.” Zoro hummed, laughing slightly. You swallow, clearing your throat. “Put on some skates, Y/n, if you can’t guard me I’ll need a goalie.”

“We’re closing, in fact we're probably closed already.” You say as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Hmm… didn’t take you for the scared type.” He says, slowly skating towards the puck.

“I…” You stutter, scoffing a laugh. “Am not scared.” You finish as he shoots you a look, a challenging one. It was stupid really. Stupid that you found yourself sliding into skates and sailing right towards him in the rink. “Fuck,” You curse, not able to stop as you practically crash right into him. But it’s more like hitting a damn wall, he barely budges and grabs you before you can go down. “Sorry.” You breathe out, his hands are on your hips, stabilizing you, your hands on his shoulders trying to keep your balance.

“You can’t even skate?”

“I just haven’t done it in a long time.” You say feeling a rush of something entirely out of your control when his hands slowly let you go. “I’m fine,” You say, testing the waters as you skate around a tad bit. He watches you like a hawk and when it looks like you're about to go down he’s there in seconds, those big hands back on your hips.

“I think it’s safe to say I’ve won this game before we even started.” He says with a slight laugh as he slides off his jacket. You shake your head vehemently.

“Nuh uh! I just-- need to warm up, that’s all.” You say, staring at the ground as your hands grip his forearms.

“Here,” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, it smells like him, like something warm and woodsy. You slide your arms through the sleeves. “Look up,” He says. A moment later your eyes find his, something sparks between you, your stomach doing a flip. “Don’t stare at your feet as you skate.” He directs as you nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak and not mess up your words. Slowly he starts skating backwards, holding you as you keep up with his pace. Slowly you fall back into your old routine, able to skate on your own.

“See… told ya’.” You say a bit cockily, almost falling again but catching yourself. Zoro smiles softly, shaking his head. You could crash looking at the smile alone. You force yourself to look away. “So… how do we play?” You ask as Zoro grabs and tosses his stick to you, you catch it with ease.

“We’ll play for five minutes, if you can score one goal on me you win.”

“I thought I was gonna play goalie?” You ask.

“I’d rather me get hit with pucks than you.” He says, warmth spreads through you at that, so you don’t answer him. He reaches and zips up your jacket before skating towards the goal. He turns to face you, crouching slightly, nodding his head to you. Game on, you guessed.

You skated a few feet before hitting the puck hard. It sails and misses the goal by at least a couple feet. Zoro laughs.

“You’re trying right? That wasn’t even anywhere close.” He mocks as you skate to grab the puck.

“I don’t even know if I’m holding his damned thing right!” You call out, shaking his stick at him.

“You’re not.” he says and you huff.

You hit the puck again and again and again. A few times you made it close to Zoro but he just batted it away with ease. You weren’t sure how much time passed before you were hitting the puck again, missing, the force of the hit making you lose your balance and slam onto the ice. You lay sprawled out on the ice as Zoro skates over quickly to your side. You took the opportunity to hit the puck where you laid and slowly it glided into the goal.

“She shoots! She scores!” You cheer from the ground as Zoro scoffs a heartily laugh, his cheeks dusted that same pink from earlier.

“That was a dirty play.” He grins, looming above you.

“It was a play all the same right? Is that five points? I don’t know anything about hockey.” You skirk as Zoro lends you a hand, you take it.

“It’s one point.” He laughs, pulling you easily to your feet.

“One point…” You trail off. “I slammed into the ground for one point.” You say and Zoro breathes out a laugh, nodding his head. “What do I win for beating the captain? Bragging rights?”

“You can’t utter a word of this to my team.” He says in a mock serious tone as a smirk grows on your lips.

“You can’t tell me that, Roronoa, I’m the captain now.” You say as Zoro raises a brow, his cheeks going even more pink.

“Is that right?” He asks, his voice a rasp. You notice than how close you two are standing, you're still holding his hands, the warmth of them radiating through you.

“That’s right.” You confirm, keeping a well placed poker face.

“Got another round in you?” He asks as you shake your head.

“Y/N! Is that you?” Your boss called as you heard the door being pushed open. Your heart drops in your chest, the alarm showing on your face. “What’re you doing?” Your boss asks as you stutter out a sorry.

“She was helping me clean up, sir, sorry for keeping her.” Zoro calls out to your boss. Your boss buys Zoro’s words.

“Well hurry up, I need to get home for dinner.” Your boss says, walking back out of the rink. You blow out a breath, skating towards the exit, Zoro just behind you.

“Jesus… thanks.” You blow out, heart still in your throat.

“No worries.” He says just behind you.

You plop down on the bench, leaning to untie your skates. Zoro sits beside you quietly, doing the same. It's a little awkward now, especially after all that oblivious flirting you were doing. This wasn’t something you couldn't see coming.

Just last week you didn’t even like looking at this guy, now you found yourself liking looking at him. A complete turn around. Not entirely unwelcomed though.

When you finally kicked off your skates, you sat up just as Zoro reached over, warm fingers on your chin and turned your face gently towards him and pressed his lips to your own. You gasped, taken off guard, eyes wide. A spark shot through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. His fingers on your chin slid until he was gently cupping your cheek, his other hand coming up and doing the same thing on the other side of your face. He kissed you gently. Slowly your eyes fluttered closed, your hand reaching up and falling short, as you knotted it in the front of his t-shirt, pulling him by it closer to you.

“I really fucking like you.” He mumbles against your lips in between kisses, you kiss him hard at his words. Ghosted over your lips causing a shiver to track down your spine. All the pent up emotions you harbored came spilling out as you somehow ended up in his lap, the moment grew intense, a groan escaping his lips that your lips muffled. His hands found purchase on your ass as he stood, taking you with him, carrying you with one hand to press your back into the acrylic glass around the rink. One of your hands slides around the back of Zoro’s neck, tangling in his hair. Zoro makes a sound you didn’t think was possible for him to make, something that had your stomach bottoming out and your fingers barely tugging at his hair, a soft sort of whimper escaping his lips. His kisses then turn hungry, almost feverish. He’s burying his lips in yours, forgetting to breathe, his hands tightening around you, completely lost in the moment. Someone clears their throat, startling you both as Zoro lets you down. Your boss stands there, hands on his hips, a look of embarrassment on his face.

“Sir, I was helping him.” “She was helping me.” Zoro and you speak at the same time. Your boss raises his head, shaking his head as you nod your head in understanding leaving with your boss.

You were reprimanded but ultimately he let you keep your job. Yay. It was your first infraction and he said to keep it professional which you agreed with and apologized vehemently. You probably apologized hundreds of times in a five minute conversation. Your boss asked not to talk about it again and you were completely fine with that. You gathered up your stuff and pushed out into the cold winter night. The cold hitting your warm cheeks and cooling you off. You didn’t have a moment alone to think about what had just transpired.

“Y/n…” Zoro called out as you crossed the parking lot. He waved as you blushed. “I’m so sorry… you didn’t get fired did you?”

“No... What was that?” You asked as you got closer.

“What?”

“Why’d you kiss me? I-- I sort of thought you hated me.” You confront.

“What? I don’t-- I don’t hate you.” Zoro shakes his head.

“You sure? I mean-- you were an asshole to me that one time… saying I needed to learn to take care of myself and that stupid fucking nickname? Rink girl? All your teammates call me that by the way.” You say, all of it sort of falling out like word vomit. Zoro raises his chin slightly, looking down at you.

“They call you that?” He asks, his voice level as you sigh.

“Yes! They do!”

“I’ll fix that.” He promises as you stare at him. This whole night was just strange.

“Why’d you kiss me?” You ask again. Zoro’s eyes soften.

“I told you already.” He says as you shake your head.

“You didn’t tell me anything? We barely talked before today.”

“I said I like you. I said I really fucking like you.” He reiterated. You remember him saying that. The heat and warmth spread like a wildfire after hearing it again.

“Why?” You ask as Zoro sort of cocks his head.

“Why?” He echoes as you raise your brows, nodding your head imploring for an answer. “Because you're pretty. You’re funny and I like the way you ignored me all the time.” He admits as you laugh despite yourself.

“What? Y-you like that I ignore you?”

“I did. I like this way better.” He motions to you and him talking. You raise your head.

“Okay…” You say skeptically, you find your mind trailing back to the kiss and it brings a blush to your cheek. You clear your throat. “How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you liked me?” Zoro looks like he’s thinking about it for a moment.

“The first day I met you probably.” He says nonchalantly. You laugh.

“Yeah… sure.” You roll your eyes. He steps closer to you.

“I mean it. You introduced yourself and said I had green hair, not that you liked it, you just said I had it.” You remembered that, your lips part in surprise because he remembered it too.

“It’s uncommon.” You say and Zoro smiles warmly down at you.

“Still don’t know if you like it or not.” He grins as your eyes bounce to it.

“I like it.” You say and see a soft blush form on Zoro’s cheeks. “Why were you such an asshole to me that day?”

“I-- am sorry about that. I was more angry with my teammates for annoying you. I wanted you to know that you could speak up for yourself, that you could just tell them to shut up but-- I’m sorry.”

“And Rink girl?”

“Poor attempt at flirting…” He says. You start laughing, shaking your head.

“The poorest attempt. But… your words did make me speak up for myself more, so…” You relent. Zoro smiles softly. You can’t help it, you pull him against your lips. That smile was too much. You needed it pressed against your lips. His hands slid around your hips.

“Christ, Y/n… go home!” Your boss grumbles as you startle, Zoro’s hands stay planted on you as you shoot an apologetic look at you boss.

“Sorry, sir.” You say as he waves you off, slipping into his car and driving away. You start laughing, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“You are going to get me fired.” You grumble as Zoro presses his mouth to yours again as though he couldn’t wait another damn second, walking you back until your back is pressed against his car. He lifts you with ease, setting you on the hood as the car’s alarm sets off.

“Fucking hell!” Zoro hissed, fumbling for his keys. You dissolved into laughter.

#one peice x reader #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x y/n

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cvpidzcvrse · 3 months

Text

𝔅𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔪 𝔐𝔢𝔢𝔱-𝔲𝔭

art by: eriimyon

MDNI, step off pls, and thank u

☆A/N: IM BACK AGAIN!! this time it’s diluc, and it’s back in genshin times so ignore the mention of modern alcohol pretend you didn’t see it. like i said before, suggest some stuff if u rlly wanna!! but ofc as always, enjoy this one loves!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･synopsis: As a stressed adventurer, you stopped at Angel Share. The smell of alcohol calms you down, what’s even more calming is the redhead behind the bar.

⋆.ೃ࿔*･wc: 2,108

⋆.ೃ࿔*•warnings:: Mdom, strangers to lovers, spanking, alcohol, fucking while standing, one night stand, public sex, almost caught, degradation, oral masc!receiving, p in v, bathroom sex, light choking, rough, and ofc creampie (practice safe sex)

(The reader is black)

The job of an adventure is stressful at times, either having to save someone or save yourself. You let out a sigh as you walk into the warm embrace of Mondstadt. You smile at the warm air and the lively city. As you’re walking you notice Jean talking to one of the Knights of Favonius before waving him off. You tilt your head in confusion before making your way towards her. “Hey, Jean! You look…stressed?” A worried look made it to your face before flashing her a comforting smile. Jean lets out a sigh before nodding slightly.

“There’s a festival coming up and everything is a wreck. So now I have to pick up the peices.”

She huffs before rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll be fine! Listen, I’m stressed and you’re stressed, so how about we stop by Angel Share and get a drink.” I suggest before slightly nudging Jean’s shoulder with a smile. “Come on, I know you want to! Join me, Please” You give the sweetest smile you could muster before she finally sighs and agrees.

“Fine, but only for an hour.” You nod happily before fixing your braids and grabbing her hand. You cautiously speed walk towards Angel Share, pulling Jean along with you. “I wonder if Diluc is in today?” Jean checks the time on her clock before finally acknowledging your very confused look.

“You do know Diluc, right? You know the owner of Angel Share.”

At this point, she looks more confused than you. How could you not know who Diluc is? As much as Jean brings him up she wonders if you even listen to her when she talks about him. You shake your head before she sighs and opens the door to the tavern. The smell of warm alcohol floods your senses. You take in a sharp breath before being interrupted by Jean lecturing some drunk bard in the corner. You’re left alone at the door, looking like a lost puppy before something catches your attention.

A bright red ponytail behind the bar, you can’t see his face but just looking at his body you know he must be attractive. You stare at him for a few seconds before he turns around, probably feeling lasers shooting through his skull. His bright red eyes met your intense gaze.

You’re so hypnotized by his strong features you don’t even realize he was waving you over to take a seat. You give him a sweet smile before walking over and sitting at one of the bar side stools. He’s completely enamored by your beauty. Your dark brown skin shimmering under the tavern light, the two-toned glossed lips, the way the adventurer uniform fits your curvy body, And the way your long, black box braids frame your face shape. It’s clear to say he’s obsessed with you, even if he doesn’t know your name.

“Can I get a Henne and coke?”

You give him a sweet smile, flashing your pearly whites.

“Of course. This one is on the house, I wouldn’t dare charge a pretty girl like you.” He smirks before turning around to make your drink. You’re grateful your skin hid the blood rushing to your cheeks, or you would’ve been as red as a tomato.

“Thank you…”

“My name is Diluc, I’m surprised you don’t know. You’re friends with Jean, right?”

You make a mental note that the ‘Diluc’ person Jean talks so often about, is very attractive. You nod in response before taking a sip of the drink he placed in front of you.

“Well thanks for the free drink Diluc, I’ll remember that for next time”

You give him a small wink before taking another sip of your drink.

Diluc is very interested in you. The way that you smile, smell, and talk. His eyes scanned every single body part and facial feature you displayed. Taking note of what you like and dislike, the jokes you made, and the jokes you laugh at.

By the time you finished the drink you had loosened up, all of today’s worries were washed away by a cup of henne and coke. After talking to Diluc for a bit you notice the way his bartending suit squeezes on his muscular body. You cross your legs to try to calm the wetness that’s forming. The way he moves when he’s making a drink, the way his muscles flex when he mixes the ingredients. It turns you on, a lot. Maybe it’s the liquid courage getting to you but you would definitely fuck him here and now, and you’re going to make it happen.

Diluc is currently resting his arms on the bar in front of you explaining how to make some difficult drinks. You knew this was your time to shine, so you subtly started dragging your finger up and down his forearm and nodding slowly while you listened to him explain. His eyes squint at you slightly, questioning your current move.

“You know Diluc, you’re kinda intriguing.”

He gives you a low chuckle before bringing his voice down to a low whisper.

“Is that so? How about you show how intriguing I am.”

He gives a little head nudge towards the bathroom before mouthing a little ‘Go inside’. You nod before slowly getting up from your seat. You give Diluc a wink before making a slow stride to the bathroom.

“Fuck..”

He mumbles under his breath before trying to smooth down the bulge he has in his pants, it's been there since you walked in. He waits about five minutes before smoothing down his pants and making his way to the bathroom. When he walks in he’s met with a lewd sight, You’re sitting on top of the sink slowly rubbing soft circles around your clit. You make hungry eye contact with him. He takes in the sight before rolling up his sleeves and slowly walking up to you.

“So you started without me? I don’t remember telling you to do that." He grabs your wrist and pulls it away from your aching clit. You whimper before you pull Diluc into an intense kiss. He grabs your hips and pulls you into one of the stalls and locks the door. He starts unbuckling his belt before pulling away and staring at your puffy lips.

“You don’t even know my name and you wanna fuck.” You huff out before helping him unbuckle his belt.

“I don’t need to know your name, just show me what you can do.”

He grabs your hair roughly before pushing you down on your knees. You take his pants zipper in your mouth and slowly zip it down.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He lets out a shaky breath before watching you take his cock out with ease. You look up at him as you slowly stroke his cock, precum already dripping all over it. He stares down at you with lustful eyes before roughly grabbing your braids and brushing your lips on his cock.

“I’m not a fan of teasing, Suck it.”

He gave a stern look before you took his full cock into your mouth. You let out a moan as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Diluc’s head flew back in pleasure as he roughly pushed you onto his cock. Your speed increased as his hips thrusted forward, shoving his cock deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby you feel so good. You know how to use your slutty mouth well.”

He chuckles before letting out another shaky moan and grabbing your hair tighter. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you let out another moan before twirling your tongue around his tip.

“I don’t wanna cum, fuck…stop"

You groan, ignoring his command you continue to suck his soul out of his body. He groans loudly before pulling you by your hair and roughly off of his dick. You whimper and give him a pleading look.

“You’re such a fucking slut. Get up.”

You barely make it to your feet before he pushes you up against the stall door. With your face squished against the cold metal door of the stall. You can feel his warm calloused hand running down your leg slowly taking off your stockings. He pushes your uniform dress up and pulls your panties to the side.

“I don’t have time to take these off, but I’m sure a whore like you likes this shit. Don’t you?”

You can feel his breath grazing against your ear, the tension causing you to let out a frustrated moan.

“Put…put it in already.”

You hear a chuckle before you feel a sharp stinging pain on your ass. You moan loudly, your clit twitched in excitement. You whimper lightly feeling his cock rub the folds of your pussy, the teasing goes straight to your head.

“Beg and I’ll give you what you want.” His deep voice sends chills up your spine. The way his hand is wrapped around your neck and his dick on your ass. The lewdness of the situation makes your pussy wetter every second.

“Please, Diluc, I need it…”

You whimper while pushing back into him trying to get any friction you can.

"You need what, doll? Spit it out."

He slaps your ass again and you let out a sharp yelp and a whimper.

“Your cock! I need it please!”

You pleaded practically grinding your ass against his cock. He groaned before slamming his cock into your pussy with no warning. “Fuck, you’re such a slut.”

He groans loudly before giving you the backshots of the century. His hands are on your love handles, using them to push you back and forth on his cock.

“You like this shit, don’t you? You cock slut, say it”

You nod your head quickly, trying to cover your moans with your hands.

“Fuck, I do, I such a fucking cock slut! Right there, fuck!”

You mumble completely fucked out. The bathroom is filled with moans and grunts, your electro vision hitting the wall every time he does a hard thrust. You can feel warmth bubbling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Diluc, I’m about to-”

You hear the click of the bathroom door opening. Diluc smiles at the sudden interruption, slightly speeding up his pace.

“(★), Are you in here? You’ve been in here for a minute, I’m making sure you’re ok.”

You hear Jean’s voice echo off the walls of the bathroom. You look back at Diluc as he’s refusing to slow down his relentless strokes. You give him pleading eyes but all he does is laugh.

“Go ahead, answer your friend. Show her how much of a whore you are.”

You shake your head before you feel a light slap on your ass.

“I-I’m…fuck…fine. T-the…mmph…alcohol just…got to…me”

You manage to get out, letting out a small whimper.

“Oh, alright. Have you seen Diluc anywhere? I’ve been looking for him.” Diluc wraps his hand around you and starts rubbing fast circles around your clit. A shaky moan comes out of your mouth before you muffle it with your hand.

“N-No, I…haven’t.”

“Ok, I’ll just ask around.”

The bathroom door shuts before you let out a loud moan when Diluc speeds his pace up.

“Good slut…fuck…I guess I can give you what you deserve.”

Your pussy clenches around diluc’s cock, you grab Diluc’s arm tightly as your orgasm approaches.

“Fuck, Diluc, I’m about to cum.”

The grip he has on your neck tightens and you feel his cock twitches inside of you. His moan getting louder and his thrust getting messier. You shake subtly before you feel your liquid running down your legs, Diluc following close after. His cum shooting inside you before groaning lightly.

“Fuck you feel so good…”

He pulls out, wiping the sweat off of his forehead and taking his handkerchief and wiping your forehead.

“I can’t let a pretty girl walk out looking a mess.”

He chuckles lightly before pulling your stocking up and fixing your uniform. Still out of breath you thank him and fix your hair.

“Go and get fixed up, I'll meet you outside.”

He admires your beauty once more. Even as a sweaty and cock drunk mess, he still thinks you’re the most gorgeous person ever.

He reaches to unlock the stall door and pushes it open. As you both walk out the stall you see Jean patiently waiting by the door. She’s leaning on the wall, arms crossed, and a face filled with disappointment. Your eyes widen with shock as you see Diluc freeze in the spot he’s in. You look like a deer in headlights.

“Good to know you met diluc.”

#new writers on tumblr #x black y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x fem!reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #diluc x black reader genshin x black reader

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

Text

Sidelines ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Best friends since university, Yoongi has always been the first one rushing to your side. But when you fall into his arms after, yet again, another heartbreak, Yoongi reaches his breaking point.

Pairing: best friend!yoongi x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends2lovers, oneshot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: cursing, impulsive confession, sexual content, also reader's true feelings are left a bit open ended

Sexual warnings: dom!Yoongi, slight brat!sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't follow thier lead!), begging, spanking, penetration, f*ngering, cunn*lingus, t*t play, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (princess), slight degradation (b*tch)

Now playing: Love The Way You Lie, Infinity, Escapism+

A/N: Had this idea for a while so when I tell you I sprinted through this oneshot, I SPRINTED. It may be a bit melodramatic and short. Enjoy! 💞

Yoongi stares at his phone–waiting.

Waiting for your name to pop on the screen.

Waiting for your shaky voice to ring through the phone, asking to come over.

Waiting for you to throw yourself into him in desperation to be held.

It should happen anytime now. Why haven’t you called yet? He’s thinking about making the first move but no. That would look too suspicious.

"Dude, you gotta tell her.” Namjoon looks at his friend with deep compassion. He’s known Yoongi since college. Knows the type of heart he carries in his chest. It’s beautifully devoted, warm, and open. But this time…this time it’s too much.

"It's not my place Joon,” Yoongi rasps. “I made a promise.

Yoongi thinks back to the day he met you. It was a cool autumn morning and you were poking around every brick building, nearly walking in circles. It was clear you were searching for something. Turns out it was the dining hall, which was no easy task to find with the campus being the size it was. You were a transfer student and being a recent transfer himself, Yoongi gladly walked you over. That became the first of many memories you’d share together.

Late study nights where you’d fall asleep on his shoulder. Stealing his sweatshirt with a devious yet playful smile. Always having not one pack of gum, but three in your bag. You loved gum for some odd reason. By senior year, Yoongi missed those days most and he wanted more than anything to tell you that a peice of himself was with you. How could he tell you though when you had begun spending every night with the captain of the hockey team? No, he wasn’t going to get in the way.

But he really should have. Heartbreak number one came when you found out your lovely hockey boyfriend had his tongue down some chick’s throat at a frat party. You’re kicking yourself for ever bawling your eyes over that jerk. Perhaps more pressing however is that Yoongi knew your boyfriend wasn’t a great guy. He even tried dropping hints that you ought to be careful with him but you didn’t listen. Despite everything, Yoongi was still the first to show up beside you that day. You won’t forget it.

Now four years out of university, you have a new man of the year who is, for the first time, genuine. Or at least that’s what you think. Yoongi knows otherwise. Just the other day he overheard said boyfriend planning to break up with you. When Yoongi stepped out to confront him, your boyfriend begged that he be the one to tell you. Yoongi promised he wouldn’t say anything which is what brings him to this very moment now.

"You can't keep doing this,” Namjoon urges. “Being her saving grace, her constant shoulder to cry on. It's not fair especially when–”

"She's my friend. I'd do it for you too."

“Bullshit. You’re still in love with her and she doesn’t even think twice about it. She still thinks of you as her older brother.”

“So let her think of me that way. A friend, an older brother…I can't turn my back on her after all this time. I won't."

“All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her.”

The truth in Namjoon’s words stings, pricks like thorns. Yoongi wishes they didn’t but the tensing of his muscles and the heat steadily climbing the back of his neck were clear signs that he couldn't repulse them.

“It’s too late for–__!”

Yoongi's eyes instantly gravitate to his cell vibrating against the coffee table. He snatches it in seconds, bringing it to his ear.

“Yoongi! I–he….Yoongi he ended it with me," you say, voice cracking. Though not in front of him, Yoongi could see the tears trickling down your cheeks. He could feel the sunkenness deep in your heart. He shared this pain with you many times before and it burned stronger each time. "I'm shocked. I didn’t think…I’m sorry I’m having trouble thinking and–and speaking. Yoongi, please, please can I come over? Or can you come here? I know it's late but I just really need to be with someone right now.”

Yoongi turns his gaze to Namjoon who mouths the words 'don't' but he can't bring himself to agree. It goes against his nature and his devotion to you. Maybe his friend is right and you'll only ever see him platonically. One thing's for sure though–he can't lose you.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay there." Yoongi grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and bolts out the door.

"That jerk!" You splash cold water on your face, hoping it will clear your mascara-smudged face. Yoongi was about to come over and you looked like an absolute wreck. He couldn't see you like this again.

Quickly, you rush to your dresser and pull out a less wrinkled t-shirt and lounge pants. You head downstairs next to tidy up the space. You may or may not have had a tiny outrage after your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, told you he was leaving you. Yoongi couldn't see that either.

While cleaning your eyes prick with tears again. It hadn't registered to you now but there were reminders of your ex everywhere. Little gifts he'd given you. Pictures of the two of you on random excursions. How could he do this to you? You harden your face and stomp to the kitchen, searching for something big and black.

You start tossing everything in the garbage bag. Pictures, cards, trinkets, stuffed animals–it all went. And it felt good. It dried your tears. As you make your way around the room, you're suddenly stopped in your purge. A small smile breaks on your face when you see the gift Yoongi got you for graduation. It was a double picture frame with a vibrant orange leaf sealed inside. One photo was of you and Yoongi the first year you'd met. The other was the two of you on graduation day. Yoongi put this together to commemorate your friendship. He's still your day one, you sigh. Four years and he's still here to help you pick up the pieces.

"___!"

Thumpthumpthump

"It's me, open the door," Yoongi gruffs from the hallway. You drop the garbage bag and immediately stride over. You pat yourself down before letting him in.

"Yoongi, hi."

Yoongi takes your invitation and paces inside. "Bit of spring cleaning __?" Of course the garbage bag is the first thing he sees. You fiddle with your hands unsure what to say. "I'm sorry ___. He didn't deserve you."

You bury your face in his shoulder, biting back the growing temptation to cry. Yoongi brings you into a closer embrace. His arms hold firmly around your own shoulders. "Thank you for coming. I know it's late so I understand if you can't stay long."

"I'm here as long as you need." Yoongi pauses, recalling your brief conversation earlier on the phone. "You know you can cry around me ___."

"I'm f–"

"Fine?" Yoongi loosens his grip to look at you. "The clothes, the dried tears, the giant garbage bag in the living room? Needing someone to be here because you don't want to be alone tonight. What part is fine? Because I'm not. Neither are you." His thumb gently strokes your shoulders, soothing your tensed muscles. "So if you need to cry, yell, whatever. Do it."

Wetness caresses your cheeks again and this time you don't wipe them away. "Why does this keep happening?" Your voice cracks as you peer into your best friend's eyes. "They never love me. No one ever does."

His dark eyes soften and you nearly see them glass over through your own tear-filled eyes. You search Yoongi's face for a response but all Yoongi can hear is the echo of Namjoon's words – "All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her".

Yoongi is silent for a moment, mauling over what his friend said. You see him hesitating for the first time in a while. "So–so why do you choose them?" He chokes.

You're a little stunned. This isn't how this usually goes. If you didn't know any better you'd think there was an accusatory tone in your best friend's question. It's unnatural and you're slow to reply.

"Because..."

Yoongi stands still, concentrated on you.

"I don't know. Because they seem kind? And I want to give them a chance."

That's it? Yoongi isn't sure he's hearing you right. Surely there would be more to it. He expected so. Before he's able to retract the words they're already out. "Then what am I? I've never had a chance."

Reflexively, you push away from him. No. No this isn't happening. You must have misheard. "What do you mean?"

"From someone, I mean. No one ever given me the chance to be with them like that so you're very...uh very open." Lies. You're lying again, Yoongi thinks. But look how she broke away from you?

"Oh, I thought you meant...."

You know what? Screw it. Namjoon's right–"You're not turning your back on her by being honest".

"I did." He clenches his fists. "I meant it exactly how you interpret it. I–I love you. And if it isn't love it's damn close."

Your heart drops, mind scatters in twisted directions. You've heard of friends growing feelings for each other before but you never thought–why now? After four years of being next to each other and going out with all those guys. Why didn't he say anything? And when did it happen? Did he always feel this way? Oh my god.

"Sorry, I panicked," Yoongi continues. "But those guys you go out with? They don't care about you like I do. Every time they hurt you it makes me want to scream 'I'm here if you see us as anything more'. But I'm terrified to lose you ___. That's why I kept it to myself."

"Yoongi I–I don't know if..." You stop seeing his heavy eyes. You don't want to break his heart but you can't tell what you're feeling. You never took the time to think of him in these terms. But one thing was for sure. You walk up to Yoongi and take hold of his hand. "You'll never lose me. Do you hear me? You're my best friend and I could never let you go."

"But did you hear me?" Yoongi squeezes your hand. "I love you ___. I don't expect it to be reciprocated so...."

"We can try." Without thinking you close the distance between your best friend. You move to press a soft kiss to his lips but Yoongi lunges backwards.

"Please don't," he says. "You don't need to force yourself ___. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't supposed to be about me tonight, I'm sorry."

"Don't say that. This is about us now, our friendship. I'm glad you told me and to be honest, I'm not saying no. I'm saying we can try."

Yoongi sighs and leans on the back of your couch, arms crossed and eyes downward. "You just got out of a relationship ___."

"Yeah so? We were only together for a few months. I don't even think I loved him."

"But you could have with more time."

You join Yoongi next to the couch. "I mean sure maybe if he didn't break up with me."

"___. Don't you see?" Yoongi turns his face towards yours. "We've had four years together. I don't want you to try to love me, I want you to love me naturally. Like I do. And if, after four years you don't then I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you."

"You're not pressuring me to do anything. You've always been there for me through everything and i care very deeply for you. Maybe I haven't thought of you as more than a friend because I didn't let myself to. Maybe I was too caught up in everyone else that I just..." You pause, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"What if we try and nothing changes? Or something happens and we break each other," Yoongi interrupts. "We'll never recover."

"Do you have that little faith in us?" You place a hand on his other shoulder, turning his whole body around. "Because I don't. Perhaps you're right that something might happen that makes things complicated. But I know we won't let it get out of hand. In fact, something beautiful might come out of this. Don't you want to find out?"

He does. Of course, he does. But was this how you really felt? "You were really upset earlier," he says. "I don't want to cloud your judgment, especially after what happened."

You lean into him closer, lips hovering over his. "I don't care about that anymore. All I care about is my best friend and I really, really want to give this a chance."

Yoongi searches for any hesitation. It's hard to do when you're mere inches from him. He's tempted to lean forward and close the distance completely– to say yes. So you do it for him.

You weave your hands through Yoongi's silky dark hair and press a firm kiss to his lips. He's disoriented at first but like a tidal wave, everything he's been holding back rushes out as he moves harder against you. You feel his hands travel down to the small of your back and snake around your waist. A tongue finds its way inside your mouth next. It dances with yours in a fiery passion. Your body burns up with every touch, every kiss. It's a foreign feeling but you welcome it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yoongi murmurs.

You give a faint smile and take his hand. "There's no one I'd rather do this with." You guide him down the hall and into your bedroom. Yoongi pulls you into another kiss, this time resting a pair of cool hands underneath the fabric of your t-shirt. You moan softly into the kiss and pull the t-shirt over your head.

"I'd tell you that you look beautiful but you already know that." Yoongi traces up your sides and along the band of your bra. It tickles for a moment but then you remember who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing.

"Not so fast," you pull back from his grasp and eye his covered chest. Yoongi picks up on your signal and rids himself of his shirt, revealing his smooth, tan torso. You've seen him shirtless before but when did he get so muscular?

With lust-blown eyes, you're pushed on your back next, sinking into your mattress. Yoongi hovers above you. A light peck is placed on your collarbone before moving to the valley between your neck and shoulder.

"Yoongi."

"Mm?"

"How long have you loved me?" Yoongi open-mouth kisses the ridge of your neck. You close your eyes, anticipating his response. "When did you know?"

"Last year of university when you started going out with that jackass on the hockey team." Yoongi lifts his head from your neck and looks at you. "What did you ever see in him? I thought you said you give the kind ones chances, not asses like him."

You nibble on your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck playfully. "Oh no, him? He was just hot. I wasn't really thinking very much when we got involved...if you know what I mean?" You raise an eyebrow but yelp when Yoongi digs his hands behind you to unhook your bra. He snaps the lacy fabric off the rest of your body and throws it on the ground.

"Yeah?" Yoongi gruffs. Well, who's little bitch are now? Answer me." He gives your left nipple a tug. You feel a wetness gather between your legs but it wasn't from the stimulation of your nipple. It was his tone, his demeanor. Yoongi never talked like this and it made all the hairs on your body stand.

"Are you–jealous?"

"Wrong answer princess." Yoongi pinches your nipple again. "I'll ask you again, who's bitch are you?"

"No ones." You flip the man over and straddle his waist. "Who's bitch are you?"

Yoongi growls and gives you a hard slap on your ass. When you let out a moan, the man underneath goes feral–riveting with desire. You're thrown on your back again with legs spread apart. Yoongi waits for your nod before yanking your pants off, along with your panties. He does the same to himself, cock hardening in your view. Fuck, you curse to yourself. You had no idea what he was packing until now.

Yoongi settles between your thighs and stares you dead straight in the eye. "We're gonna have a little competition princess. I'm gonna eat you out and if you finish without begging to have my cock then I'll be your bitch. Deal?"

You swallow hard and nod. Who knew your best friend was this nasty. "Deal," you reply, widening your legs. Yoongi smirks and runs a cool finger along your slit. You feel the pit of your core tighten upon contact but keep a straight face. "I thought you were eating me–fuck!"

Yoongi pushes in, breaching your walls as far as he could with his finger. He adds a second in after two pumps, focusing on your reaction. "There's something you should know ___." He begins circling his thumb on your clit, causing your head to throw back in the process. "I don't like brats. So if this was any other time, I'd probably already be fucking your tight, wet pussy. But it's our first time together." Yoongi retracts his fingers instantly, soaked with your cum. "I'll go easy on you."

"Shit." You claw at the sheets. Yoongi licks a long stripe up your folds, dipping between ever so often just to see your hips jolt. His hands dig into your inner thighs, driving your senses wild. "Ah! Yoongi!"

"Need to come princess?"

You struggle to reply, bringing a hand up to latch on his hair. "I–ah–I'm not even close-close yet!"

Hearing your response, Yoongi thrusts his fingers back in, creating a steady rhythm with his tongue. "Fuckfuckfuck!" you curse, knot twisting inside you. You feel Yoongi smirk that same cocky smirk from earlier as he continues eating you out. "Yoongi, I'm close now!"

"Are you? Beg for my cock and I'll let you come."

What the actual fuck? "You're such-ah-a cheater! Well I'm not gonna–fuck! Please, please I need to come."

No response.

"Okay...okayokay. Please, Yoongi, can I have your cock?" You immediately come, tightening your hold on his hair. "Oh my god Yoongi, you're so evil fuck!" You give him a slap on the chest once you release. Yoongi grins down at you and catches your wrist.

"Who's bitch are you?" Slowly, he crawls further up your body, pinning your arm above your head. He grabs your other arm and places it on top of the other. "Are you really not gonna say it?"

"Yours. I'm yours, Yoongi."

"Damn straight you are. Now keep them there." He squeezes your wrists together before placing his hands on either side of your head. He bends down and gives you a passionate kiss. "You really are beautiful ___. Are you still sure you wanna do this?"

"Please."

Yoongi caresses your check, aligns himself with your entrance, and pushes in. Your mouth falls wide, but nothing comes out for a moment. Once you adjust, you give a slight nod.

"Fuck." Yoongi moves inside you, penetrating through your velvety walls. Your eyes roll upwards as his close shut. "Oh god, Yoongi–faster please," you breathe.

Yoongi pushes deeper in you, his length pulling in and out of your hole at a rhythmic pace. Beads of sweat form along his forehead and your around your neck. You let out a loud moan once feeling the cord within you wind up again. Yoongi soon feels it too, quickening his speed.

"I can't believe we're doing this-ah shit!"

Your hands, struggling to stay down, jolt with every thrust. You look deep into Yoongi's eyes, his staring straight back into yours. You're both grinning too, like idiots really. "Me neither. But I'm glad we are."

Yoongi kisses you again. It's sloppier than before but you couldn't care less. "You're gonna come soon mm? Because I know I am. This pussy is so tight-fuck-it's basically swallowing my cock. Brat like you love this shit don't you?"

You laugh and rustle through his hair but your arm is pinned back down. Yoongi starts moving inside you as fast and hard as he can, breasts bouncing against his muscular chest. He so close and so are you. "Asked you a question princess."

Your back arches as he fucks into you. "Yes-yes we do! Fuck, I'm gonna come. If it doesn't happen now it'll–"

"Come for me __." Yoongi pushes himself into you one last time before both of you finish, gasping for breath. You feel his length pull out of you shortly after.

Side by side now, hot and sweaty, Yoongi looks at you. "What the fuck did we just do?"

You grin and leap on part of his chest. "We're giving us a chance."

"By starting with sex?" Yoongi throws an arm around you. "Let's do this properly and go on a date tomorrow."

You giggle and bury your head in his shoulder. Goof. Maybe, this does have a real chance of working out. "Okay," you whisper.

A/N: Thanks for stopping by! As always, lmk your thoughts. See ya! 💞

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