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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

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*NSFW* Breathe (Yandere!Monster x AFAB!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, bed bug inspired monster, minor character death, Non-Con, traumatic insemination, blood, physical torture, mental torture, impregnation, necrophilia

(Reader) breathed deeply, bouncing side to side in the back of the armored vehicle. The men and women by their side held equally grim expressions, not knowing what they were about to face. Three days ago an outpost went radio silent, the group of military scientists sent out an SOS before cutting communications. (Reader) had no idea what the scientists were studying, nor why they needed military protection in the middle of nowhere, but it wasn't their place to know. That's what they continuously told themselves as they practiced their deep breathing, secretly unnerved by how little their team was informed about this mission, and by how uneasy their teammates were.

The van rattled as it parked, and everyone exited the vehicle, guns pointed and night vision on, patrolling their designated routes throughout the empty land. (Reader) was followed by Davis and Jones, surveying the backside of one of the buildings, and praying for someone to be found alive. It was a bit dramatic, assuming that everyone was dead, but with how everyone seemed to keep this mission "hush hush", keeping important info from the men and women entering the "possibly dangerous" area, with the goal of "information retrieval" being considered a higher priority over extraction of survivors, it didn't sound like even their superiors were hopeful.

Everything was suspicious, and made everyone on edge. That worry became a very real fear when (Reader) entered the building through the back door and found the floor painted in blood. A body was mere inches from the exit, and the back of his head was torn open, exposing a cracked skull.

"Jesus Christ.." Davis covered his mouth.

(Reader) bent down, turning the body over to observe the face, comparing it to the portfolios of the personal working at the outpost they had memorized on the drive. They clicked on their walkie, speaking low. "This is (Reader), we've discovered a body, appears to be Dr. Romero."

Rodriguez's voice crackled quietly in their ears. "Copy that, this is Rodriguez, I've got two more bodies over here."

"What the hell happened to him?" Jones whispered.

(Reader) couldn't answer. There were scratches on the skull, and the skin was red and puffy surrounding it. The face was purple from the pooling blood. It didn't look like a gun shot, but (Reader) couldn't imagine what it could have been otherwise. "Let's continue on." The three left the body behind, creeping down a hall in procession.

"Movement." Behind (Reader), Davis urgently hissed, motioning towards what looked like a rec room. The formation changed, following Davis as he entered the room, focused on a couch. As they drew closer, a quiet gurgling could be heard, along with something wet dripping onto the tile flooring.

What looked like a man, naked and hunched over, was cradling a corpse, rocking back and forth. In the odd lighting of the goggles, they couldn't tell that there was something wrong with him until it was too late.

"Turn around, and put your hands up." Davis commanded, frightened and ready to shoot. The head of the corpse lulled back, revealing it's neck was completely devoured. In the second it took to blink, the creature had lunged at Davis, tackling him to the ground. (Reader) and Jones opened fire, but the bullets seemed to bounce off his back in the dark. Seeing a slight difference in texture between his back and neck, (Reader) took a chance, aiming at his neck.

The creature screamed, holding his neck and jumping to his feet, taking a moment to reveal his almost human face to (Reader), before crawling up the wall, and through a trap door in the ceiling.

"Davis!" Jones picked up his brother, patting his armor.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Davis panicked, grasping at Jones to ground himself. "I think he was trying to bite me, but- but couldn't get past my mask."

(Reader) got on the radio again. "This is (Reader), we've just been attacked. No injuries, but.. but I can't explain what just attacked us. It looked like a naked man, but it crawled up the ceiling like a bug."

"Not funny, (Reader)."

"That wasn't a joke, Rodriguez. I unloaded a clip into it, and it didn't die. It went into the attic, do I follow?"

"We're on our way, wait for backup."

Davis looked horrified. "I don't want to go up there!"

"C'mon, man-"

"No, Jones. You didn't see that thing's mouth!"

Everyone went silent as something scraped against the floor boards above them, clenching their weapons in suspense.

The front door was kicked in, Rodriguez and her crew entered the rec room, lowering their guns. "Alright, what happened here?"

"Something Humanoid was in the center of the room, eating.. whoever the hell that once was. Davis told him to put up his hands, when it knocked him to the ground, trying to bite him. Jones and I shot his back, but it didn't seem to affect him. I hit it's neck, but that only got him off of Davis, then he climbed up the wall and went through that door." (Reader) pointed at the attic door.

Rodriguez narrowed her eyes in disbelief, glaring up at the ceiling. "Let's find another way up. If there's nothing up there, we'll go back to the van, check your body cams."

Davis raised his voice defensively. "You think we're lying about this?"

"I think, it fucking reeks in here. It doesn't smell like a gas leak, but I don't believe in monsters. I'm not ruling out a hallucinogen of some kind. (Reader)-" She then nodded to (Reader), signaling to get a move on.

They searched the rooms before finding a ladder, and no other doors leading up. (Reader) sighed. "Good enough."

Davis held the ladder as (Reader) climbed up, followed by Rodriguez, then another soldier, Alistair. Inside the attic the smell was worse, like rotten fruit. It was so bad that Alistair gagged a little, trying not to throw up. "Fuck me, what is that?"

(Reader) flinched, seeing something curled up in the fetal position. "Rodriguez."

The three approached the figure carefully, the smell worsening as they approached, then, (Reader) was close enough to see that the creature wasn't breathing. They kicked it, putting a hole straight through it's stomach.

"Oh God!" Rodriguez recoiled.

However, (Reader) almost threw up, not because of the stench, but from the overwhelming fear that suddenly pulverized their spirit. "It's a shell."

"What?"

Rodriguez bent down, gingerly pulling (Reader's) foot out and examining the body, finding it to be a combination of hard shell and molted skin. "I can see why you couldn't kill it. It's back is like a bug's exoskeleton. Looks like the front is a more... human.. texture."

"But doesn't that mean it's still here somewhere?" Alistair nervously asked, glancing around in the dark.

"We need to get back to the van, call this in to our superiors." Rodriguez commanded before picking up the walkie, calling out the the other three person team. "Jackson, return to the van."

Silence.

"Jackson, you there? I said get to the van."

A barrage of shots fired from outside, echoing through the encampment. Everyone raised their weapons and fell into formation, rushing outside quietly while scoping the area. A scream from one of the newer lieutenants pierced the silent air, before choking loudly, and then returning the outpost to silence once more.

The team splintered apart, separating back into their three man groups, covering more ground in hopes of finding the last three members of their team. (Reader) smelled that fruity stench again, and motioned to their men to follow them in the smell's direction. They entered a tent covering what looked like an excavation site, a deep hole roped off with caution tape. A uniformed body laid headless in the dirt next to the entrance. In the bright green view of (Reader's) goggles, they could read Jackson's name on the vest.

Further down the large tent, a disgusting squelching noise was rhythmically slapping, along with animalistic grunts. (Reader) stepped as soundlessly as possible, stepping over torn clothing; a military vest with Adams' name, her jacket, her tank top, and even her bra, torn to shreds and strewn about, leading to the noise.

Behind a metal desk, seconds clicked by like minutes, the adrenaline forcing (Reader) to take in every detail of the horrific scene. The monster, now much larger than it was before, had Adams' corpse in it's arms, her nude upper body violently shaking as it ground it's pelvis into her abdomen, splattering blood around them. As the scene came together, (Reader) began firing, aiming at the side of his head, hoping to hit a soft spot.

The creature angrily stood up, Adams' body sliding off of what appeared to be a curved spike protruding from it's groin. It screamed, rushing (Reader) and ramming into them, knocking them off balance which sent them tumbling down into the hole.

(Reader) heard their team cry out for them, and gunfire, but they kept falling, bouncing off the walls of the hole before landing hard at the bottom, snapping their arm at the bottom.

The shouts of terror didn't last long above ground, ending with sounds of bones cracking and bodies falling. (Reader) struggled onto their feet, feeling discomfort in their rapidly swelling ankles. There didn't seem to be any rope or ladders to get back out, and they didn't know if it was safe to call for help on the radio.

Spinning around, something moved in the dark, scaring (Reader) onto their ass and fumbling for their gun. In the dark, another naked monster, smaller than the previous one, crawled over on all fours towards (Reader), chest heaving like he was sniffing the air. He approached (Reader) who still couldn't find their gun, and cautiously tapped on their goggles, searching their masked face with deep, sunken eyes. His mouth was split open, showing off his jagged, saw like teeth. This monster was about the size of the first one before it molted.

It continued open mouth sniffing (Reader's) head, almost making them vomit by it's rotting body odor, when suddenly it flinched, whipping his head up to see the bigger creature climbing down head first into the pit. The younger looking monster grabbed (Reader's) face tightly, pressing his hands against their mouth and squeezing, forcing them to hold their breath.

Sweat felt like lice as out dripped down the fine hairs on (Reader's) neck. They hadn't prepared to be holding in their air, so they were already beginning to feel light headed. The larger monster paused halfway down, sniffing hard into their air before screeching at the smaller creature. He howled in response, still keeping his hands in place on (Reader's) face. (Reader) understood that the two were communicating, and that it seemed like the smaller monster was on their side, because soon the killer turned around and retreated back up, more than likely to kill more of (Readers) brothers and last remaining sister.

After a painful amount of time, he removed his hands, and (Reader) wasted no time grabbing their walkie. "Hello? Does anyone read me?" They whispered frantically.

"(Reader), we found more bodies-"

"Jackson and Adams are dead, possibly Davis and Jones as well."

"Jesus.."

"We found the monster in a large tent covering what looks to be a dig site. I was thrown into a hole, broke my left arm, lost my gun, and possibly sprained both ankles." (Reader) swallowed their rising bile, watching the monster mimic their movements. "Don't breathe. If you hear rustling, don't breathe. The monsters can see, but I think they find their victims through their breath or something."

"What? Wait, did you just say monsters?"

"There's a smaller one here in the hole with me. I think he saved my life. The one from the attic is much bigger now, this other one is still small. He made me hold my breath and it made the bigger one leave me alone."

"Jesus, alright. That sounds crazy. But.. look, just stay there, we'll be there soon. Can you see a way out?"

"No. No ropes or ladders down here."

"'Kay. Stay quiet, call back if that thing down there tries to attack you. Even if we can't get you out, I can at least throw you down a weapon."

"Thanks. Stay safe up there."

(Reader) leaned back, the pain settling in as the fight or fight response cooled down. They groaned in pain. The monster hopped up, crawling back over to inspect (Reader).

"Curious little monkey, aren't ya?" (Reader) panted, becoming nervous at how he sniffed the air excitedly as they did so. He crept back over, becoming far too close again, and starting touching their mask and goggles, confused. Long sharp claws reached under the mask and pulled it down, startling himself. He retreated to the other side of the pit while whimpering.

"Hey, that was just my mask." (Reader) tried to console him. They didn't know if it was because he saved them, or if because he acted like a scared child, but they weren't nearly as scared of him as they were the other one. Seeing that it was just a piece of fabric, and not (Reader's) face accidentally being ripped off, he shuffled back over, rubbing his dirty fingers across their lips.

He tapped his nails across their teeth, pulling open their lips carefully, feeling their jaw and chin, running his hands over every little bump and scrape. Learning that the bottom half of (Reader's) face had been covered by a mask emboldened him to tug on the goggles, coaxing (Reader) into removing them, leaving them completely blind in the dark. His breath tickled their face as he shuddered, purring deep in the back of his throat as he placed his nose on (Reader's) forehead, pressing into them in an almost cat-like manner, smelling them and rubbing his oily skin over (Reader's) entire face.

Uncomfortable by their lack of vision, (Reader) replaced their goggles, much to the monster's dismay. "I need these. Protection." They put back on the mask as well, ignoring his whines of disapproval.

Dirt fell onto (Reader) as Rodriguez stepped near the opening. "You still alive?" She stage whispered down into the chasm.

"Yeah. Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah. I think with the footage we got, and the documents, they'll understand if we don't take any bodies back with us." Her words were harsh, but (Reader) knew she was just as distraught as they were. "Your gun's up here, want me to throw it down?"

"No. I'm guessing you didn't find a ladder?"

"No."

"Then I'll try to climb out."

"Didn't you say your arm was broken?"

"Unless you killed that other creature, it's too dangerous to hang around here." (Reader) readied themselves to climb, immediately hissing as they grabbed into the dirt. The monster panicked, growling at (Reader). But they didn't stop, kicking a foot in, creating a hold, and pulling up. White hot pain flashed through their body.

An arm grabbed them around their waist, and swung (Reader) around; the monster had picked them up like a sack over his shoulder, and began climbing the wall with one arm.

"Jesus Christ." Rodriguez grabbed at (Reader) as soon as they were within reach, yanking them away from the monster. He snarled in response, trying to cover (Reader) with his body, but (Reader) wearily pat him on the head, trying to show that they were fine. He calmed down, but still glared at Rodriguez suspiciously. "What the hell are you?"

"Where's the rest of us?" (Reader) questioned, only now seeing that Rodriguez was alone.

"Only one other guy made it, Davis. He was fucked up when we found him, I got him in the van."

"I'm sorry.."

"It wasn't your fault. Let's go." Rodriguez helped (Reader) to their feet, handing them their gun, and the three left the tent.

Bodies of (Reader's) mates were in pieces, littering the ground with organs. Everyone was wrinkled. Whatever blood hadn't spilled on the ground while being murdered appeared to have been siphoned from their bodies, the chunks nearly mummified. The two soldiers watched their new companion as they snuck back through the outpost, using him like a blood hound to sense if his more dangerous relative was near. There were moments when he would pause, a frightened look crossing his face as he clung to (Reader), and both humans would hold their breath, desperately clinging to the faith that this monster was actually trying to save them.

The sun was still hours away from rising, and horror movie plots drifted through (Reader's) mind, pondering what kind of creature was clinging to their arm at that moment, and what could possibly kill it. (Reader) sped up their pace, rushing to the driver's side door as Rodriguez pulled the unwilling monster into the back with her, wrestling him as he tried to follow (Reader).

Each team leader had a spare key for the truck, so it didn't matter who drove it back, but Rodriguez did have more hands on experience with first aid, so it made sense for her to be in the back with the barely conscious Davis during the ride, just in case his health took a turn for the worse.

The van started up, worryingly loud in the silent town. (Reader) pulled off their goggles and flipped on the lights, flooring the gas as they took off, knowing it was no use trying to be quiet at that point. From the back of the van, the monster started crying.

"Hey, something's wrong with this thing!" Rodriguez called out to (Reader), before the entire van shook under the weight of something dropping onto the roof. "Shit!"

Without thinking, (Reader) spun the wheel to the left, throwing the bloody monster off their vehicle and sending him tumbling into the road. He was able to shake off the fall, standing upright and staring at (Reader) from the road. Now without the night vision, (Reader) saw him clearly in the headlights, the difference between his brown armored shell pieces, and the mammal like skin, almost paper thin in the light, pulsated with the blood of (Reader's) teammates and the doctors they were sent to find. The skin was stretched tight over how swollen he was, growing to almost twice its natural size.

"Hold on!" (Reader) barked, speeding towards the man in the road.

His head snapped forward as his chest connected with the grill, bouncing off the hood as (Reader) drug him back towards the buildings, driving him towards the house with the rec room. (Reader) kept on full speed until they crashed into the wall. Blood splashed across the wall and van as the monster popped under the force of the collision.

"Shit! Are we good?"

The body twitched a few times, choking on it's stolen blood as it feebly clawed at the metal crushing it before falling still, finally dying. "Yeah. We're good."

Back at the base, it was a horrifying shock for the troops awaiting their return, guns raised and pointed at the young monster they brought with them, however, they didn't shoot, as he held onto (Reader) tightly, making no move to attack anyone. They uploaded their body cam footage, corroborating their testimonies of what they saw, save for Davis, who was rushed back to the hospital wing for emergency surgery. (Reader) and Rodriguez were also eventually treated for their injuries, Rodriguez only needing a couple of stitches and getting diagnosed with a concussion, while (Reader) had their arm placed in a cast, and both ankles had to be wrapped up for compression to fight the mild puffiness.

The two sat next to each other, finally alone after the military dragged their monstrous savior away. "God, I need a shower." The dark haired woman complained, sniffing her hair that had been let down. Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I smell like those things."

"Ha. Yeah, like rotting fruit."

"Rotting raspberries. So gross." Rodriguez's forced smile melted, incapable of pretending to feel relief. "Why do you think he saved you?"

Clashing with the smell of the sanitized hospital and the saline aftertaste from the IV drip, (Reader) could still smell the pungent scent of the monster on their body, just as Rodriguez pointed out. "I don't know."

"What do you think those things are? Vampires?"

The image of Adam's limp body sliding off of a thin spike resurfaced in (Reader's) mind, making them nauseous. "I don't think so." They leaned forward, scooting closer towards Rodriguez. "I didn't see your body cam video.. did you see mine?"

"No. Why?"

"Did any of the bodies- I mean, this is going to sound.." they sighed, licking their lips and trying again. "When I entered that tent, with the hole, I found the monster with Adams. It had.. torn off her clothes, and it looked like he was.. stabbing her abdomen, with a claw out of his pelvis."

Except for the normal hospital beeping, (Reader's) words left the atmosphere feeling far too silent. "Are you saying it raped her?"

"I don't know.. maybe. Did you see any other naked bodies?"

"..no." They both laid back, exhausted, and frightened. "But if you're thinking that it could tell she was a woman, why weren't we attacked? I mean, I know you're not a woman, but if those things went by smell or pheromones.. I don't even know what I'm saying." She drug her dirty hands over her face.

"Maybe because our's is a kid. I mean, he's the size of that first monster before it molted, so maybe he isn't.. sexually mature?"

Before Rodriguez could think of a response to that a doctor came in, asking to see her out in the hallway. "I'll be right back." She promised, patting (Reader's) shoulder as she left the room.

(Reader) nestled back into the thin pillow and accidentally fell asleep while waiting for their friend to return, the awful rotting smell never fading.

It wasn't until a banshee worthy scream echoed throughout the hospital that (Reader) woke up, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing that it was 19:31, revealing that they had slept through an entire day, and that Rodriguez was not in the room with them. Something down the hall shattered, followed by another terrified shout. Unarmed and now incapacitated, the only course of action their adrenaline flooded mind could think up on the fly was to hide, ripping out their IV and sliding under the cot, hidden from view by the crossing metal bars and plastic barrier.

Footsteps passed by (Reader's) door. They took a deep breath, holding their face to keep in their air. The door opened and whoever it was entered the room. (Reader) was only capable of seeing the bare feet painted in blood as they stepped closer to the bed. The bloody individual leaned on the mattress above (Reader), pressing their weight into it, before stepping away, touching other things around the room. Blood dripped onto the tiles from the drenched body. (Reader) began shaking, trying not to take a breath as they waited for the thing to leave, tearing up at the possibility of it being the creature they willingly brought back with them. The feet disappeared from view, then they heard the door close. Still, just to be safe, (Reader) kept their hands to their mouth for a few more seconds, unable to hear if he left because of the blood rushing through their ears. Quietly, they released the lungful of air and slowly sucked new air back in.

A hand grabbed one of their swollen ankles and pulled (Reader) out from under the bed. In the dim light of the flashing buttons, (Reader) saw the freshly molted monster, smiling down at them with blood coating their face and dribbling from their lips.

"No!" A casted fist attempted to punch him, but he caught it, rubbing the puffy fingers against his face affectionately. He leaned down, rubbing his nose across their face like he had done back when he had first saved them, sniffing loudly. (Reader) began sobbing, knowing what would happen to them after Adams. The thin hospital gown was easily ripped off, pleasing the monster who made that purr-like rumble in the back of his throat, still smiling.

A long, thinly tipped aedeagus unfurled itself, curved and sharp, just like (Reader) remembered it looking.

"Please don't.. please.. I don't want to die!"

Their words weren't understood by the monster, too busy rubbing (Reader's) side. He laid down beside them, hugging (Reader) tightly as he positioned himself, still sniffing their neck as he did so. Between (Reader's) pleas a stinging pain entered their side as he pushed his hypodermic penis into their midsection.

The sound of pain (Reader) made was unlike anything they had ever made, or heard, before. Incapable of jerking away because of his hold on them, he continued making noises of pleasure, rolling his hips as he pressed deeper, splurting blood as he wiggled back and forth inside of them, trying not to puncture anything important until he could get deep enough to what he needed.

His prick pierced (Reader's) uterus, the burning torture as they felt something inside getting stabbed was hell. Their eyes rolled back as his hips rubbed sensually against their side, unable to hold on as they began to pass out. He screeched horrifically, scratching (Reader) as his grip constricted happily, cumming straight into (Reader's) uterus. Even after they fell limp in his arms, his fluids continued pouring out, overfilling the poor organ; his elastic liquid solidifying near the hole like a polyp.

Contrary to what (Reader) thought, the monster who caressed their body was intelligent. He was far smarter than his brother, who had been so desperate to implant his seed he fucked that poor woman to death, not taking into account that human females hadn't evolved to handle the method of reproduction that their species used. Even their own could die if they mated multiple times, so he really should have been more careful. He held onto (Reader) dreamily, using their gown to stop the bleeding as he pulled out. He took the time to ensure nothing was damaged inside his wonderful little mate, so the only bleeding he had to worry about was the skin. Some of his sperm clung to the tip of his needle like cock, so he rubbed it across (Reader's) face as they laid unconscious, just so that if another male of his species did somehow follow them, the could smell that (Reader) had already been claimed.

When he was searching the hospital for (Reader) he had seen stitching, and learned what it was for by watching a doctor from afar before killing him and the patient. It wasn't too difficult to figure out.

(Reader) would live. It would hurt, but imagine how happy they'll be when they awake to find themselves pregnant! It made him purr with joy, wondering how many children he'd have with his beautiful human.

After all, unlike humans, his species only needed to fuck once and their sperm would survive inside the host body for years, creating a kind of sac to plug up the hole in the uterus and protect the sperm from the forming infants, releasing sperm whenever there is a vacancy in the uterus to immediately impregnate the host again.

His mate shifted under the needle in their sleep as he fixed them up. It brought him such pride, imagining that he could almost see them becoming pregnant at that very moment. He knew from the second he smelled (Reader) down in the dirt he was unburied from that he was born to be their mate~

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #cw noncon #cw death #cw violence #cw monsterfucking #traumatic insemination #bed bug inspired #bad writing #not proofread

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yanxidarlings · 10 months ago

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YANDERE TWD

REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)

imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.

somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.

"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.

the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.

"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.

for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.

that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.

but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.

"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.

after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.

BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.

m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.

he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.

he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.

"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.

daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.

before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.

it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.

letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.

the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.

the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.

the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.

it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.

it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.

but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.

perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.

the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.

waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.

grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.

m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.

woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.

"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.

rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.

rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.

the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.

"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.

daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.

taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.

the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.

"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"

daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.

daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"

rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"

neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.

when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.

"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.

daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.

the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"

"you piece of shit!"

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gigabyte-flare · 2 years ago

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Insatiable (Part 3) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: The hunt is on. How far can you run?

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: I present the thrilling conclusion to this greatly anticipated part! I want to thank everyone for their support: for reading, liking and reblogging! I never expected this series to blow up at all. While, yes, this is the conclusion, I absolutely plan on revisiting yandere plagas!Leon, he was so much fun to write. I hope this part meets everyone's expectations! I also want to take a moment to showcase another one of @chanif-art's Yandere Plagas!Leon pieces, I love the way they portray him!

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive. Just like animals, animals, like animals, —mals. Maybe you think that you can hide, I can smell your scent from miles. Just like animals, animals, like animals, —mals."

You run as fast as your legs allow you into the parking garage, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. You take two steps at a time to get yourself up to where you parked your car faster. You don’t dare look back, you know Leon is hot on your trail. You can hear gunfire, screaming and the sounds of death from whence you came.

Getting onto the third floor of the parking garage, you spot your car on the far side and you sprint, practically throwing yourself at your car once you get there. You rip open the driver’s side door and climb inside, immediately locking the doors when you get in. Fishing your keys out of your pocket, you accidentally drop them onto the floor.

“Fuck!”

You bend down at an awkward angle to pick them up, hooking your finger around the keyring and sitting back up where you are met with Leon staring at you, his clawed hands pressed against the glass of your driver’s side window. You suck in a breath, your eyes locked onto his blood red eyes.

“Found you!” he says, a sadistic grin forming on his face.

You see his sharpened canine teeth once he fully grins; he opens his mouth and you watch as a set of mandibles come out from inside his mouth, a low guttural growling sound coming out of him. This is nothing like the nightmare you had.

This is a thousand times worse.

You let out a blood curdling scream before you turn your attention back to starting your car, shoving your key into the ignition and turning the car over. The car roars to life, you immediately throw it in drive and slam your foot on the gas, launching forward as you turn the wheel to the left, drifting around the bend to go down the ramp to get out of the parking garage.

You get to the bottom, busting through the barrier to get onto the street. You swerve through traffic, trying to get onto the interstate as quickly as possible. However, the gridlock traffic on the on ramp makes that impossible, so you continue to swerve through traffic in the heart of the city. You look in your rear view mirror, your stomach sinking at the sight of Leon keeping up with you, jumping on and over cars as he chases after you.

You make a split second decision to turn left down an alleyway and you gun it, the tires squealing on the pavement. However, you slam on the breaks when you see that Leon stands in your way. Your hands white knuckling on the steering wheel as the two of you stare at each other. You furrow your brows and scream in rage as you slam your foot onto the gas pedal, hoping you can take him out with your car.

Oh, sweetheart, that is a big mistake.

He grins, holding his hands out in front of him to catch your car. His clawed hands leave indents in the front of your car as he plants his feet into the ground as your wheels spin and spin and spin until one of them finally bursts into pieces. Your vehicle now severely crippled, he walks over to the driver’s side, ripping the door clean off the car. He watches as you try to cower to the passenger’s side.

It’s futile. He reaches in, grabbing you and pulling you out of the car. He wraps his arms around you as if you were a long lost lover, one of his hands gripping the back of your head as he embeds his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply like you were a drug. You smell absolutely divine.

“Leon Kennedy!” he hears a man shout from one of the ends of the alleyway.

Leon turns his head, seeing a large group of men with guns pointed at him. Leon turns his head the other way, seeing they’ve completely blocked him in the alley.

“Let the girl go, Leon!”

Leon looks back over at the man, his tail whipping back and forth as a low growl emanates from his throat.

“No,” Leon says, narrowing his eyes, “she’s mine.”

“Don’t do this Leon! Let her go and we can end this peacefully!”

He feels you trembling in his embrace, too stunned to fight back or even scream. Grinning at the man threatening him, he bares his fangs, a low growl coming from the back of his throat. Then he looks down at you, your terrified gaze looking back up at him. Grabbing your face, he forces your mouth open. You start screaming when his mandibles come out of his mouth again. His mouth latches onto yours, his mandibles clawed into the sides of your face, preventing you from pulling away. His eyes roll into the back of his head as his body convulses before a Plagas egg slips inside of your mouth, causing you to gag. Releasing his mouth from yours, his mandibles retracting back into his mouth, he leans back as you cough profusely.

“Swallow. It.” he growls at you.

You have no choice but to swallow, otherwise you would have likely choked. The stress from this whole ordeal must have been too much because you faint in Leon’s arms afterwards. Leon throws you over his shoulder and jumps straight up into the air. A flurry of bullets shoot around him as he lands on the roof of the building, running across it at a terrifying speed. He leaps from rooftop to rooftop with the grace and agility of a jaguar; his pursuers found it impossible to keep up with him.

There’s an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city, a perfect place for Leon to settle down and enjoy his mate. Landing nimbly onto the ground in front of the factory, he struts inside with his prize still unconscious over his shoulder.

Your eyes snap open and you sit up; your whole body trembling as you start violently coughing into your hands. You look down, your eyes widening when you see that your hands are covered in your blood; you feel it trickle down your bottom lip and chin. Suddenly, it came back to you, Leon had infected you. You start hyperventilating, your eyes wide, darting around to your surroundings. You deduce that you’re in some kind of large abandoned building, the rays of the sun at dusk fracturing through the decaying structure.

You turn around, sucking in a breath when you see Leon sitting nonchalantly about an arm’s length away from you with a smirk on his lips and a look on his eyes that could only be described as lustful.

“How are you feeling, love?” Leon asks before he emits a low, almost purr like sound from his throat.

“Where the fuck did you bring me?”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “somewhere safe until I can find us a place for you to safely give birth to our offspring.”

“Excuse me?!” You say with a gasp, pushing yourself away from him.

“Calm down,” he growls, “I haven’t done anything to you, yet. It’s not fun to copulate when my mate is unconscious.”

“I am not your mate!”

He begins to chuckle, shaking his head before locking his red eyes onto yours, “I wouldn’t be so sure, I should bet money on how long it’ll take for me to make you scream my name.”

“Oh hell no!” you say as you scramble to your feet and start to run.

You don’t get very far, however, as you feel something coil around your leg and pull you back onto the ground. Within moments, Leon pounces on top of you, pressing himself into your back, pinning you to the ground. You realize it was his tail that had coiled around your leg. His clawed hands pin your arms to the ground.

“Don’t you dare run,” he purrs, bringing his lips up to your ear, “I don’t like to chase.”

You feel his hardening member pressing up against your bottom as he grinds his hips into you. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply before trailing kisses from your head to your shoulder before sinking his sharp teeth into your skin. You scream, your body tensing up against the excruciating pain in your shoulder.

He unlatches himself from your shoulder, letting out a lust filled growl before climbing off you. You try to crawl away, but he grabs you by the hips, flipping you over onto your back. He sits up on his haunches, breathing heavily as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire. You watch his tail move back and forth and his back claws flex, ready to strike at you if you try to run again.

You watch as he grabs his shirt with both hands, ripping it apart to expose his chest. Even his chest is covered in those dark veins; you suspect his whole body is. Still staring down at you, he undoes his belt before he stands up to discard his pants and underwear. You can’t help but stare up at him in awe, feeling your skin crawl as you stare.

“Feel that?” he says, climbing back on top of you, slipping his hands under your shirt to pull it off over your head, “do you feel the pull between us? We were made for each other, love.”

There’s a sudden ear piercing ringing in your ears, causing you to wince and whimper as you grasp the sides of your head.

Give in to me.

Your eyes widen when you hear Leon speak inside your mind. This has to be a side effect of the Plagas, you had read reports of its mind controlling abilities; you never thought in a million years you’d experience it first hand.

I will make you love me.

The ringing finally stops; you hesitantly lower your hands away from your face, his face hovering just above yours. He presses his lips against yours, kissing you aggressively as his hands work to remove your pants. Once he gets your pants off, he sits back up on his haunches before spreading your legs apart. He licks his lips upon seeing the dark wet spot on your underwear.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he says, a purring sound emanating from him before he continues, “so nice and wet for me.”

He leans forward, grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth and dragging them slowly off your body. Once your underwear is off, he practically launches himself between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he inhales deeply before running his tongue over your slit. He props your legs over his shoulders as he starts to fuck you with his tongue, which almost seems longer than a normal tongue would be as his nose rubs into your clit.

You let out a moan as you throw your head back, your fingers digging into the ground as your legs squeeze against his shoulders. You cry out when you start to hear the painful ringing again.

That's it, cum for me. Cum on my tongue.

Leon growls, the vibration shooting through your entire body. You are driven so close to the edge, causing tears to flow from your eyes.

“Oh… oh god… oh fuck… L-Leon!” you scream, “I’m… I’m gonna cum…!”

You feel Leon smile into your folds, his tongue still buried in your cunt.

What a good girl you are! Didn’t I tell you I’d have you screaming my name?

He lets out another growl, this time it’s enough to make you fall apart on his tongue. He moans, lapping up your juices as they flow out of you. He pulls his tongue out of your leaking hole, his mouth soaked in your orgasm. He licks his lips clean before he climbs back on top of you, his throbbing cock pressing against your slit.

“It’s time to breed this beautiful pussy.” he says with a sinister smile.

Leon looks directly into your eyes as he pushes himself into your body, watching as you squirm beneath him as he fills you. When his hips and yours meet, he stays still for a moment admiring the sight of your two bodies together as one. He cages your body with his arms and back claws, thrusting in you at a steady but powerful pace. His eyes trail down your body, taking in the sight of your breasts bouncing in your bra with each thrust. He reaches with one hand, grasping your bra and ripping it clean off. He sits up and grasps your thighs, pushing you back into a mating press and quickening his thrusts inside you, eliciting loud, desperate moans out of you.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice breathy as he fucks you ruthlessly, “such a good girl for me.”

“Oh god… shi-- L-Leon!” you moan, running your fingers through your own hair as you throw your head back, already on the edge of another orgasm.

His pupils dilate as he stares at you and to his pleasure, watches as black veins start appearing on your body; you are transforming quickly. He attributed that to being in your presence, since he is your mate. He can feel himself getting close; he leans down, latching his mouth onto one of your breasts, making a purring sound as he sucks on you hard. He reaches down to your clit, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb as his other hand grabs your other breast, squeezing hard.

The sounds of your screams, whimpers and moans is music to Leon’s ears as he marks your breasts with bruises and bite marks. He feels you tug on his hair gently and he looks up at you, only to find you staring at him, your eyes gazed over in lust, your pupils now touched with red like his own. Seeing you like this sends him over the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” Leon growls, moving back up to you to kiss you deeply.

He feels your pussy clench around his cock, sending him over the edge as he pushes impossibly deep into you, shooting his load into you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace as you moan his name over and over.

At that moment, a set of doors bursts open on the other side of the room, and Leon watches as a flood of men with guns rushes in, taking aim at him. Leon holds you against him with one arm, the other propping him up as he glares at the men, a low, menacing growl coming out of him. Your arms and legs instinctively wrap around him as he starts to stand up, his member still twitching inside of you.

“Put her down, Leon,” says the man that originally threatened him in the alley; Leon concluded that he is probably the squad leader.

“You’re too late,” Leon says with a grin, “her transformation is nearly complete and I’ve claimed her with my seed.”

He pulls himself out of you and holds you bridal style. He can feel you trembling, but you’re trembling from your orgasm, your breaths slow and heavy as you nuzzle in his embrace.

“You bastard!” the squad leader shouts, firing his gun at Leon.

Leon is too fast, however, he sidesteps the gunfire and rushes at the group of men, his tail thrusting forward, impaling the squad leader before whipping around, decapitating several men in a single swing. The rest of them stand there stunned for a moment before opening fire. Leon, while still holding you in his arms, moves gracefully in the midst of the bullets, impaling a few more of the men easily with his tail. What’s left of the men quickly lose morale, dropping their guns and rushing out of the abandoned factory.

Leon watches the men flee, a look of content on his face as he looks down at you. Leon turns, approaching a forest that lies beyond the abandoned factory. With a single, graceful jump, he lands in the trees, disappearing into the night.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy x reader #gigabyte writes #insatiable

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darkbluekies · 2 years ago

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The witty and uncanny

Doctor!yandere OC x reader x Mafia!yandere OC

Summary: After escaping Silas, you wake up at the hospital with a doctor who hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. And now, you have two to escape from ... at the same time.

Warnings: yandere, needles, gun + gunshot, blood, fighting, getting drugged, unhealthy relationships, jealousy, scalpels, a lot of drama

word count: 3.2k

Part 2

A bright light stings in your eyes as you pry them open. You whimper slightly at all the different pains in your body. You're lying in a bed, but it's not very comfortable.

"Oh, you're awake", an unfamiliar voice says. "I started to get worried."

A blurry shadow appears in front of your eyes. You blink a few times until you see the outline of a blonde man.

"How are you?" he asks softly.

You open your mouth to answer, but it's drier than a desert. The man puts a plastic cup to your lips and you sip a few mouthfuls of water.

"There we go, good job", he smiles. "Now, how are you?"

"Where am I?" you whisper.

"At the hospital. Do you remember anything?"

"I …"

You stay silent as you look at the doctor. Don't you recognize him?

"Have we met before?" you ask quietly.

"The two of us?" he repeats. "Yes, we have. I cared for you a year ago when you came to check up on your sore throat. I'm doctor Kry."

"Oh, right … I remember."

A few seconds of silence occur as you try to remember last year. Everything feels so blurry after Silas took you.

"Now I'll ask again: how are you?" the man asks.

"I'm hurting", you admit.

"Nothing is broken, I can assure you of that. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Silas, he- …" Shit. You shouldn't have said anything.

Dr Kry grows increasingly stiffer hearing the other man's name.

"Silas? Who's that? Your boyfriend?"

"No."

At least you don't think so. You never agreed to become Silas’s partner … or his prisoner for that matter.

"That's relieving to hear", Dr Kry smiles slightly and brushes the hair out of your face. "Can you tell me what happened? I won't tell anyone. I have to stay silent by law."

You gulp. You had escaped Silas during a mission of his. He'd brought you with him for who knows what reason and you managed to run while he wasn't looking. When he noticed that you were gone, you had to throw yourself down a cliff to get out of his reach. Landing in the water, you had no other choice but to swim to shore and then run for your life. You had been running for hours until exhaustion took over you. You fainted in a park. Now you're here.

You give the doctor a brief explanation, leaving out most of the information about Silas and his job.

"Why were you running from him?" Dr Kry asks suspiciously. "Did he hurt you?"

You nod. When you close your eyes you can see the basement's stone walls in front of you.

"Don't worry, Y/N, you won't get hurt ever again", Dr Kry promises. "You're safe with me now, okay?"

You shake your head quickly. You'll never be free from Silas! He's insane! He'll burn down the hospital once he finds you.

"Calm down, dear", Dr Kry smiles. "You're safe, I promise. This hospital has fantastic security. You wouldn't be able to break out from here even if you tried to."

You nod carefully, deciding to try to calm down. After all, you haven’t gotten the slightest bit of relaxation after Silas stole you away from your life. Resting now might be crucial in case Silas decides to find you again. Otherwise you might be too vulnerable for Silas's harsh manipulation. You won’t survive the basement if you’re not rested up.

Dr Kry sits with you as you sleep, watching over you. He goes through some papers, reading through your journals.

“Oh, my dear Y/N”, he whispers for himself, flipping pages, knowing full well you cannot hear him. “Finally you’re back with me.”

A while later, there’s a knock at the door. Dr Kry frowns and walks over to open. WHat he’s met with takes him by surprise. A black haired man with a long coat and a gun in his hand.

“Where are they?” he hisses.

Dr Kry looks at the gun with a glare and clenches his jaw.

“You must be Silas”, he says warningly, still sounding calm.

“Back away”, Silas says darkly, pointing with the gun. “Go to your desk.”

Dr Kry backs away slowly, refusing to look away from Silas. Silas notices your sleeping form in the bed, breathing out in relief.

“Y/N!” he says. “Little thing, wake up.”

“Don’t”, Dr Kry says quickly. “They just fell asleep. If you wake them up I’ll call for security and you’ll leave this hospital in pieces.”

Silas scoffs as one side of his mouth pulls up. “I’m the one with the gun here. I make the rules, okay, doc?”

“This is my territory that you’ve trespassed on. Here, I’m in charge.”

Silas glances at your sleeping form, at the bruises on your skin and the IV-drop next to your bed.

“What have you done to them?” he growls.

“What have I done?” Dr Kry repeats in shock. “They were worse when I took them in! What you see there, you have caused when they were running from you.”

Silas pushes Dr Kry up against the wall, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. The black haired man is a tad bit taller than him, but he isn’t feeling threatened. He’s furious. This man has caused you harm. He needs to be taken care of before you wake up. Dr Kry can’t let you see any of his bad sides. Silas puts the gun against Dr Kry’s temple.

“If you’re so stupid to kill me here, you better find another doctor to care for your ‘little thing’”, Dr Kry says, mocking Silas’s nickname for you.

Silas gives the doctor a nasty look and lets him go harshly. He’s about to walk over to you, but Dr Kry storms after, grabbing his arm.

“Don’t even think about moving them”, he warns Silas. “They’re hurt thanks to you. They need to heal up!”

“I will get them everything they need”, Silas mutters.

“Yeah, sure. Since when do you know how to use medical equipment? Smallest misstep and you’ll harm them. I’m not going to let you do anything that could worsen their condition.”

Silas gulps and looks around, hate still clear in his eyes, but now also a bit of worry.

“Fine”, he mutters. “I guess I’ll let them stay here until they’re better.”

Dr Kry smiles inside. Oh, you’ll never get better.

By now, you open your eyes after all the sound the two men have caused. Your gasp alerts the two of them, turning both their heads towards you. Your eyes are stuck on Silas with fear glowing in them.

“N-No-”, you almost sob.

“Don’t cry, little thing”, Silas says and pushes Dr Kry out of the way. “Come here-”

“No! Don’t touch me!”

Your scream hurts Dr Kry’s ears. He grabs Silas’s shoulders and forces him away from you, standing in between him and you as a shield. Silas is about to throw himself at the doctor when he sees how you hide behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spits. “Y/N is mine! If I want to touch my baby, I have all the damn right to do so!”

“You forget that this is my territory”, Dr Kry warns him calmly , taking your hand. “I decide who touches my patients or not and right now, I’m the only one allowed to.”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit. Let go of their fucking hand right now.”

"Or what? You're going to shoot me? We've been through this already. If you shoot me you don't have anyone else to care for them. Is that what you want?"

"I'll find someone else."

"Then are you really going to put Y/N through this? If you shoot me, my blood will splatter on them. Try manipulating them to like you after that."

"You piece of shit-"

Silas is about to attack him, but Dr Kry picks up a scalpel and holds it in front of him.

"If you have to be here, be of use and sit down", the doctor sighs and rolls his eyes. "And be quiet. You're scaring Y/N."

You've curled up on the bed to protect your fragile body from Silas’s wrath. The man with the gun sighs heavily.

"This is fucking ridiculous", he mutters and sinks down in the chair in the corner of the room. "Why am I listening to you?"

Dr Kry smiles slightly and holds a cup of water to your lips. You choke on it thanks to the stress of having Silas in the room. You're waiting for him to have had enough and get rid of your doctor. He's the only form of protection you have.

"Breathe", Dr Kry whispers. "Don't look at him."

"What are you saying to them?" Silas asks quickly, suspiciously.

"Nothing. Instead of trying to eavesdrop, go to the vending machine on the floor below and get your 'little thing' something to eat."

"Why should I? You're the doctor!"

"Exactly. I'm the doctor. I have to stay with the patient at all costs."

"You fucking asshole."

"Y/N hasn't been eaten once since they came here."

Silas growls and stands up. He gives you one warning gaze before rushing out. Doctor Kry waits a few seconds before hurrying over to the other side of the bed, carefully removing the needle out of your arm. He places his arms under your body, carefully lifting you up.

"W-What are you doing?" you gasp.

"Getting you away from here. I'm going to take care of that man, but in that case, I can't have you close."

Dr Kry carries you out of the room, glancing at the ends of the corridor before running to the elevator.

"You don't understand!" you almost sib. "Silas will kill if you do this! He's insane, h-he'll-"

"So am I."

"What?"

A shiver runs down your spine.

"I don't like to admit it, but I do have some scary thoughts too sometimes", Dr Kry says disappointingly. "Don't worry, I will take care of that man. Afterwards, you and I can go back to being together. I won't let anything hurt you."

You shake your head slowly, realization hitting you. No, this can't be it …

"You sound like him …", you whisper quietly. "You sound like Silas …"

"No, I don't."

"L-Let me down."

"I can't. You're not well enough to walk by yourself. I have to protect you."

Dr Kry leaves the elevator and steps out into a dimly lit cemented corridor. You must be far below ground.

"He won't find you here", Dr Kry says.

His voice makes you shiver.

"Let me go", you whine and start to fight against his strong embrace. "Let me go! I'm going to scream."

"Scream all you want, Y/N, but I'd be surprised if anyone could hear you down here."

He opens a door into a white experiment cell. You shake your head desperately. This reminds you too much of the basement. The only thing in the room is a wall made of a mirror, a table and a chair. Dr Kry lets you down in the chair and walks towards the door. You hurry up and try to run past him, but he captures your arm and pulls you back.

"Don't tire yourself out, sweetheart", he says. "You won't get well that way."

"I threw myself off a fucking cliff! A little running won't do anything to me!"

Dr Kry manages to pry your arm off him and push you into the room before going out and locking the door. You pound the door with your fists, screaming. Dr Kry gulps and makes his way back to the elevator. You're safe here, he reassures himself.

Silas makes his way back to your room with a burning rage in his heart and a protein bar in his hand. That doctor has a storm coming for him. Silas is going to hang him upside down until the blood suffocates his brain. And he'll watch it all with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. And you? One thing's for sure: you're never coming with him for a mission ever again. He can't believe that you did all of this to get rid of him.

"I seriously need to get a couple therapist", he mutters to himself and reaches for the door handle into the room.

Before he touches it, he stops. Something’s wrong. He swings it open and finds it empty. You’re not in the bed and the doctor is nowhere to be seen. Silas takes out his gun from his coat again.

“I’m going to fucking kill you”, he promises.

“How funny, because I was thinking the same thing”, a voice behind him says, catching him by surprise.

Silas turns around to see Dr Kry putting on white gloves. Silas turns his gun towards him. Dr Kry scoffs out a low chuckle.

“But the difference between our deaths is that yours will be quiet and quick”, he says, taking up a needle from his pocket and testing the spurt. “No one will know if you’ve left the hospital or not.” He nods at the weapon in his hand. “One shot with the gun and everyone will know that something has happened to me. You won’t get away with it.”

“You’re wrong, I’ve gotten away with a lot of things. This will be nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You sure do a lot of talking for someone with a gun in their hands.”

“Well, I can’t fucking kill you before you tell me where the fuck Y/N is. Now spit it out. I’m sick of this!”

“Why should I tell you? You’re clearly only causing them harm.”

Silas growls and throws himself at Dr Kry, not being able to control himself anymore. The doctor gets knocked to the floor. Just as Silas is about to start punching him, the doctor stabs him in the arm with the needle. Silas is quick to get off him and rip it out.

"W-What the fuck was that?" he asks quickly.

"Something to make you sleep", Dr Kry smirks from the floor, still lying on his back but now propped up by his elbows.

Shit. Silas looks around for something. He grabs a stapler on top of the desk and slams it into Dr Kry’s head, knocking him unconscious. He starts rummaging through his pockets until he finds a key. 'Laboratory 2', it says on a small label.

"Where the fuck is that?" he pants. "Hey doc- … nevermind."

He hurries out into the corridor. He's not sure if the exhaustion he feels is from the needle or if it is from his imagination. All he knows is that he has to find you before he falls unconscious on the floor.

Silas finds a floorplan over the hospital. His finger follows the illustration lazily. Damn it, stay conscious. Silas finds the laboratory three floors underground. He drags himself over to the elevators and presses the right button. His body is growing more and more tired, eyes wanting to shut. The image of Dr Kry appears in his brain and he grimaced. He has to continue. The doctor seems to want you for himself too. Over Silas's dead body.

Silas steps out of the elevator and looks around in this new, dimly lit corridor. The walls are made out of concrete. It reminds him of the basement. His vision starts to fail him. He's seeing double. But nonetheless, he finds the right door. He struggles to place the key in the hole now that he can barely see. The click from the lock gives him hope. Inside, he finds you curled up in a corner on the other side of the room, glaring at him.

"Don't be scared, Y/N", he says, voice sounding distant. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've- … I've learned from my mistakes … I'm going … going to …"

"What's wrong with you, Silas?" you ask hesitantly.

"That fucking doctor … he … he stab- … stabbed me with a … uh, with a needle. But that … doesn't … doesn't matter. I'm taking you with me any- … anyway. I'll kill him."

He reaches out for you, but you scurry away from him. His sloppy movements give you time to run past him out into the corridor. The elevator is free! Behind you, you can hear his body hitting the floor. Just as you're about to walk into the elevator, you remember the gun Silas has on him. You could use that.

You give the elevators one last glance before running back to the testing room. You rummage through his pockets, finding the weapon in his coat.

The elevator is occupied now. You swear mentally. You need to get out of here before Dr Kry comes. The elevator stops on your level … and opens. You're met by Dr Kry’s cold eyes. Blood is running down his face from his forehead. His eyes light up as he sees you.

"Y/N!" he gasps in relief. "Thank God! Where's Silas!"

"Unconscious", you mumble, pointing at the open door, "in there."

"Good, good. Let him be. Wait … why do you have his gun?"

"Why do you think so?! To protect myself, of course. It doesn't seem like anyone else is!"

"No, no, you are safe — with me!"

"No. Something’s wrong with you too. I don't like it."

You hold up the gun towards him.

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous, I'm normal!" He says, glancing towards the weapon. "Come now, let's go to bed. You need to heal up. I'll take care of Silas. I saved you, didn't I?"

"I'm not sure. Did you really save me if you're the same?" You hover your finger over the trigger. "Get out of my way."

"Are you really going to shoot me here?"

"You said that no one would hear anything down here. So why shouldn't I?"

Dr Kry clenches his jaw. He looks at something behind you and his eyes widen.

"H-How are you conscious?!"

In horror, you turn before Silas can touch you. To your surprise, it’s empty. You don’t have time to realize what has happened before Dr Kry grabs you from behind and steals the gun out of your hand.

“Now, enough of this”, he says. “Come now, Y/N. We’re wasting time where you could be resting. I really don’t want to use the gun against you, but if you don’t realize what’s best for you, then I have to take drastic measures. Come now, little on, let’s go.”

He leads you into the elevator. The doors close. You glance at the gun with a plan in mind. You sink down the wall with your hand over your throat.

“What’s wrong?” Dr Kry asks quickly. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“N-No”, you lie while forcing yourself to pant. “I can’t breathe!”

Dr Kry sinks down on his knees in front of you, letting go of the gun and starts to feel around your neck gently. You grab the gun and without a second thought, shoot him in the foot. The doctor screams out in pain and clutches the hurt area.

“Y/N!” he shouts. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting the fuck out of here”, you sigh in stress.

As soon as the doors open, you run without ever looking back. You know that you have a race against the clock. Silas will wake up sometime and Dr Kry won’t let this slide. Whether you like it or not … they’ll be back for you. Their little Y/N.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere doctor #yandere duo #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere imagine

2K notes · View notes

revehae · 10 months ago

Text

masterlist

kang seulgi

seulgi ↠ like oxygen

smut, noncon, pussy slapping, kidnapping, choking, drugging, pretty vague mention of stalking

1.2k

abductor!seulgi x fem reader

seulgi ↠ slut cafe

smut, consent is dubious, g!p!reader, yandere themes, possessive!reader, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of using a knife, sub!idol

2.5k

waitress!seulgi x (f) reader

seulgi ↠ fixative

smut, noncon to dubcon pipeline, implied!stalker au, breaking and entering

2.3k

ex!seulgi x (f) reader

bae irene

irene ↠ stress toy

smut, dubcon, g!p!reader, sub!irene x dom!reader, power imbalance, unprotected sex

2.1k

maid!irene x (f) reader

park joy

joy ↠ replay

smut, stepcest, degradation, camgirling, dom!joy, recording the act, oral/face riding

2.8k

dom!joy x (f) reader

kim yeri

yeri ↠ enchant me

smut, noncon touching, oral, lowkey morally ambiguous, fairy yeri × human reader

4.0k

fairy!yeri x (f) reader

johnny suh

johnny ↠ monster (ft. yuta)

smut, noncon, choking, use of a gun

3.0k

johnny x you

johnny ↠ sexcapade

smut, professor!johnny x professor!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, almost getting caught

2.2k

co-worker!johnny x (f) reader

johnny ↠ indulgence

smut, graphic descriptions of murder, of violence, noncon, mentions of pregnancy, abduction, strangling, descriptions of blood

10.3k

serial!killer x (f) reader

lee haechan

haechan ↠ day and night (ft. jeno)

smut, noncon, unprotected sex, forced breeding, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, knife play, gun play, degradation, bondage, slapping, kidnapping, sadism

2.5k

haechan x fem reader x jeno

haechan ↠ day and night 2 (ft.jeno)

smut, noncon, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, gun play, degradation, slapping, kidnapping, oral (m receiving), sadist!jeno, implied dacryphilia

3.1k

haechan x fem reader x jeno

haechan ↠ behind closed doors (ft. jeno)

smut, stepcest, slight noncon, (uncreative) degradation, unprotected sex (i literally forgot about the existence of condoms, oopsies), brief choking, slapping, posessive!jeno

4.5k

haechan x fem reader x jeno

haechan ↠ the perfect victim

smut, noncon, unprotected sex, forced breeding, alcohol consumption, choking, impact play, degradation

2.7k

haechan x you

haechan ↠ brother’s best friend!haechan drabble

blackmail/coercion, dubcon, degradation, no praise in sight, pussy slapping, thigh slapping, (hard)dom!haechan, dumbification, edging, objectification, hyuck being all around terrible

haechan x you

haechan ↠ crush!haechan drabble (ft. mark)

degradation, can be read as non-con but reader wants it, moderate knife play, 2 instances of mark saying “good girl”

haechan x you x mark

haechan ↠ do you like it, dr. lee? (ft. jm, jn)

smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, forced oral, forced anal, age gap (18+)

5.4k

haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

haechan ↠ dear hyuckie

smut, noncon, mc is a terrible person, stalking, unprotected sex, baby trapping

6.0k

athlete!haechan x (f) reader

haechan ↠ girls goon too

smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin!reader, dubcon

5.3k

stepbrother!haechan x (f) reader

lee jeno

jeno ↠ behind closed doors (ft. haechan)

smut, stepcest, slight noncon, (uncreative) degradation, unprotected sex (i literally forgot about the existence of condoms, oopsies), brief choking, slapping, posessive!jeno

4.5k

jeno x fem reader x haechan

jeno ↠ day and night (ft. haechan)

smut, noncon, unprotected sex, forced breeding, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, knife play, gun play, degradation, bondage, slapping, kidnapping, sadism

2.5k

jeno x fem reader x haechan

jeno ↠ day and night 2 (ft. haechan)

smut, noncon, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, gun play, degradation, slapping, kidnapping, oral (m receiving), sadist!jeno, implied dacryphilia

3.1k

jeno x fem reader x haechan

jeno ↠ hurts so good (ft. mark)

smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating

4.2k

jeno x you x mark

jeno ↠ hurts so good 2 (ft. mark)

unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating, cuckolding without the marriage, brief mention of nonconsented recording

3.9k

jeno x you x mark

jeno ↠ do you like it, dr. lee? (ft hc, jm)

smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, forced oral, forced anal, age gap (18+)

5.4k

haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

jeno ↠ undone

smut, noncon, enemies au, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, degradation

4.1k

enemy!jeno x (f) reader

jeno ↠ girls goon too

smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin!reader, dubcon

5.3k

stepbrother!jeno x (f) reader

jeno ↠ see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male facesitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

14.9k

"""nerd!"""jeno x (f) reader

na jaemin

jaemin ↠ secret stalker

smut, noncon, stalking

1.1k

bff!stalker!jaemin x (f) reader

jaemin ↠ do you like it, dr. lee? (ft hc, jn)

smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, forced oral, forced anal, age gap (18+)

5.4k

haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

mark lee

mark ↠ bff!mark drabble (ft. haechan)

degradation, can be read as non-con but reader wants it, moderate knife play, 2 instances of mark saying “good girl”

mark x you x haechan

mark ↠ hurts so good (ft. jeno)

smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating

4.2k

mark x you x jeno

mark ↠ hurts so good 2 (ft. jeno)

unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating, cuckolding without the marriage, brief mention of nonconsented recording

3.9k

mark x you x jeno

mark ↠ all the rage

smut, dubcon, nerd!mark, virgin!mark, coercion/blackmail, unprotected sex, nonconsented recording, oral, implied bimbo!reader

4.5k

nerd!mark × (f) reader

jaehyun

jaehyun ↠ rose creek motel

smut, age gap (18+), drowning, noncon, baby trapping, unprotected sex, oral, angst

15.8k

serial killer!jaehyun x (f) reader

ning yi zhuo

ningning ↠ our little secret

smut, stepcest, manipulation, noncon to initiate, corruption

3.2k

baby step-sister!ningning x (f) reader

ningning ↠ mirage

smut, noncon, scientist! reader, siren!ningning, fucking machine, kidnapping

2.4k

siren!ningning × (f) reader

lisa manoban

lisa ↠ lust and war (ft. jennie)

smut, light dubcon, mentions of blood, biting, vampire!lisa, g!p jennie, werewolf!jennie

5.0k

werewolf!jennie x (f) reader x vampire!lisa

kim jennie

jennie ↠ lust and war (ft. lisa)

smut, light dubcon, mentions of blood, biting, vampire!lisa, g!p jennie, werewolf!jennie

5.0k

werewolf!jennie x (f) reader x vampire!lisa

jennie ↠ party monster

smut, thoughts of noncon, sub!jennie, oral, noncon recording, monsterfucking

3.3k

bff!jennie x (f) reader

shin ryujin

ryujin ↠ soul snatcher

smut, dubcon, wall sex, monsterfucking, g!p, demon!ryujin, dom!ryujin, sub!reader, oral

3.5k

demon!ryujin × (f) reader

kim chaewon

chaewon ↠ naïveté

dubcon, mermaid!chaewon x human!reader, oral, posessivelreader, dom!reader, sub!chaewon, yandere themes

4.0k

mermaid!chaewon × (f) reader

359 notes · View notes

thefiery-phoenix · 9 months ago

Note

Yandare gun park who got obsessed with a foreigner reader working for him as his secretary of something head canons ?

Sure :)

YANDERE GUN PARK WITH FOREIGNER SECRETARY READER

Love was something Gun never had a positive opinion of, he always viewed it as something trivial when he had better things to do in life like extort money from gangs and traumatize people. The only things he desired was power and money, he honestly couldn't care less about anything else till he met you. He needed someone to take of some mundane paperwork Charles Choi decided to throw towards him and thought of making Goo do it till he realized he'd have to deal with his incessant whining which was something he wasn't overly fond of till he got the idea of hiring a secretary for himself. He could tell from the get go you weren't from around here since you spoke in a different accent and looked out of place. Gun's eyes were focused on you and he didn't understand why he felt intrigued by you. You worked as a barista and the way your apron hugged your frame and you spoke to people with a smile, you looked...innocent and somewhat gullible in his opinion as his eyes never left your figure

He spotted your manager yelling at you a while later and you had tears streaming down your face while your lousy scumbag of a manager berated and insulted you. Something inside him told him to intervene, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this for someone who he didn't even talk to yet but something in him compelled him to do so. "Hey...shut up. It's annoying to hear you scream like a whining man child. Get lost'' said Gun as he waved his hand dismissively and lit a cigarette and let out a puff as he glared at your manager. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT TO-'' screamed your manager on top of his lungs however he was cut off when Gun grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and his hands gripped his face in a vice like grip as he leaned closer towards him and whispered something in his ear. You didn't know what he whispered into your manager's ear since it wasn't audible to you but whatever it was that the stranger said to your manager, he went pale and shivered slightly as he let out a pathetic whimper and scampered off. You've never seen your manager reduced to such a state as you looked at the stranger in apprehension and slight fear as you fidgeted nervously

"Don't worry, I won't bite...unless you want me to'' said the stranger as he smirked at you and you could feel his intense gaze behind his glasses you had an awkward smile on your face. "Um...thank you I guess...I don't know how to repay you though'' you said as his smirk widened. What an eager polite little thing you were, you looked like a typical goody two shoes and he felt a strange desire growing inside him to corrupt you, to have you for himself and devour you whole, to OWN you. "There is something you can do for me...'' he started as he took another puff of his cigarette and watched your confused and nervous look as you reminded him of a helpless little prey which gave him a power surge and a sense of satisfaction to see you squirm. He made a mental note to make you squirm for him even more later on in the future, your expressions were so amusing for him

"Work for me...as my secretary. You can start tomorrow'' he said in a tone which indicated you didn't really have a choice in the matter as you took the card and looked at it. You looked at the man in front of you and you couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling that he was dangerous. "You shouldn't refuse if you know what's good for you. It would be...unwise'' said the man in front of you as your heart almost stopped beating at his words. You slowly nodded as you sighed and went back to your house. You were too tired to comprehend what to do anymore as you headed for bed after you had a quiet dinner. Meanwhile Gun headed back to his residence and pulled out his phone. "Oi brat, I need a favor from you'' said Gun. "You call me that one more time, I swear I'll kill you'' grumbled Kouji from the other end as Gun chuckled slightly. "I'd like to see you try pipsqueak. I need some information on Y/N, think you're up for the job?" he asked Kouji as he was met with a few moments of silence. "You really think I have nothing better to do in life huh? Fine...but I'm charging you double. You interrupted my game MF'' he grumbled as he cut the call. 15 minutes later Kouji sent a file to Gun as he spent the rest of the night reading everything about you from your likes, dislikes, hobbies and such. The fact that you weren't from Korea made things better, he could make you rely on him more, make you dependent on him and have you for himself easily as he smirked to himself, waiting for the next day when he'd see you again

The next day, sure enough, you showed up to his residence and you had a smart attire and Gun was somewhat surprised you actually held up your end of the promise. You were so easy to take advantage of and he couldn't wait to have you in his clutches. "You actually showed up...congratulations, you got the job'' said Gun as you quirked your brow in slight confusion. "Aren't you going to conduct an interview or something?" you asked him curiously as his mouth curved into an amused grin. He wondered whether or not he should tell you how he already knew everything there was about you including how you lived alone and your current address and such but he didn't want to scare you off just yet so he decided to withhold that information. For now at least as he mentioned some vague answer of not wanting to bother with tedious and nonsensical procedures and preferred a more direct approach towards things

He's amused how skittish and nervous you're around him. Your actions never cease to delight and amuse him and he loves to call you out on your flustered and shy behavior at times and gets a kick of your cheeks going red whenever he makes slightly suggestive comments towards you. Which just proved his theory that even the devil had his day. He always insists that you have lunch with him and don't even think of skipping out on lunch with him, he'll drag you to eat with him anyway telling you that you can always work later. He'll take you out to fancy restaurants at times to a private booth where the two of you would be undisturbed and he'll ask you questions about your life and such. Even if you hide something from him he'll find out eventually through his sources so there's no room for you to keep a secret from him anymore

It kind of goes without saying you know, when you're working for Gun, you'll meet Goo as well and Goo knows Gun inside and out and he immediately understands his fighting obsessed psychotic friend has taken an obsessive unhealthy liking towards you when he caught him stalking you in the shadows when you went back home. Of course Gun immediately warned Goo to keep his mouth shut as Goo grinned at him in amusement but honored his wish. Goo being the infuriating little brat he is at times loves to tease Gun and getting a rise out of him by hanging out with you, it's amusing to see his eyes get all fired up with possessiveness and jealousy, an emotion he'd never expected him to have before but at the same time, he acts like a wingman for him and encourages his twisted obsessive love for you, snitching on you to Gun anytime you have plans with your pesky little friends in which case Gun would have to personally take care of them for being a distraction for you. Don't feel too upset when they don't lift your calls anymore, you still have him. You wouldn't know about what he actually does, you're in the dark regarding all the money extortion and the crew related things he does, he wants to keep you in that sheltered little bubble and make you rely SOLELY on him alone

Personal space be damned, he's always doing things to make you flustered like kissing the back of your hand or being too close to you. He'll find a way to monopolize your time and attention to be focused on him and only him, nothing else should matter to you. He likes to trace his thumb over your bottom lip and whenever he speaks to you in that husky deep voice of his, his lips would teasingly graze over to your ear and the nape of your neck which would send shivers and tingles down your spine as he has a firm grasp around your waist. It just feeds into his god complex of an ego how much of an effect he has on you. He's looking forward to having you on his lap one of these days, while he runs his hands over your beautiful body meant for him

When you spring the news that you're going back to your country permanently and want to live there, he stops whatever he's doing and simply glares at you. Even though he's wearing his glasses you could feel the heat and intensity of his heated stare which was practically burning a hole through your soul. However, he has a fake smile on his face and invites you to one last dinner before you leave. Little did you know, there was quite an unexpected surprise in store for you. You headed to his residence for dinner that night and he loved how shy and bashful you were being. No way in HELL would he allow you to leave him, you were his since the moment he laid his eyes on you. You couldn't exactly put a finger on it but you felt like the food tasted somewhat strange and by the time you finished your last bite, you started feeling drowsy and sleepy. "I'm...I'm feeling tired. I think...I think I better go home'' you mumbled sleepily and yawned. A few seconds later your vision started becoming blurry and you blacked out on his couch as he gently ran his fingers through your hair and caressed your cheek. How dare you try to leave him? He'll have to discipline and punish you later for trying to leave him. It doesn't matter if you'd hate him after you wake up, you'll love him eventually, he'll MAKE you love him even if he needs to use force...

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koiiiji · 6 months ago

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fantasy AU series! lookism & windbreaker boys

tw ; supernatural, suggestive, kinda obsessive

starring ; gun & goo

author’s note ; pls if u know art authors bellow, let me know, i will tag them. i took all arts from pinterest and i haven’t found any credits

author’s note 2 ; let me know if you want part 2 with other characters, i decided to separate post in case if you guys won't like it 🙏🏻🫶🏻🪄

Gun & Goo

Oni & Kitsune

it was known that the creatures of the forest were not the friendliest. oni and kitsune divided the forests at the foot of the mountain between themselves, standing at the top of the food chain and becoming each other’s natural enemies, while the tengu lived high in the mountain. the way there was closed to almost all creatures, no matter if they were humans, animals or demons. but this didn’t mean that the young tengu didn’t come down from the mountain in the darkness of the night to look at the inhabitants of the forest. of course, it was forbidden, and the elders severely punished those who disobeyed, but still youthful excitement and interest led small groups of teenagers to the foot of the mountain.

tere's nothing unusual about that, you assured yourself as you made your way through the thick fog, along with the other tengus - your brothers and sisters. you often saw the older guys sneaking out at night to have fun, and in the morning they teased you, younglings, with stories about how entertaining and interesting it was downstairs. this has already become a kind of ritual among young people - teenage excitement and thirst for adventure forced them to run away late at night to the border with something forbidden, to meet something that was hidden from the eyes. the forbidden fruit is always sweet, right?

well, fruit wasn’t that sweet when you fell into a trap, while you were running away from the oni who caught you at the border. maybe guard confused you with kitsune, or even with humans, but they clearly didn't welcome outsiders into their territory. it was very difficult to take off, the forest was very dense, the branches of the pines were so dense that neither the light of the moon nor the light of the stars could be seen, you didn't even have enough space just to spread your wings completely. in a panic, all the brothers and sisters scattered to wherever they went, not sorting out the way, leaving each other alone with darkness, fear and furious onis behind them.

somehow climbing a tree, you tried to get higher so that you could fly out of this damn forest, now I don't care how you get home, whether you will be punished, now the main thing is to survive. * crackling* the branch under you crunches, the hand slips off. A body with wings seems so heavy when they are just flapping behind your back, unable to lift you higher or lighten the weight. and so, you're already flying down, breaking a few more branches under you.

it was unusual to fall. the last thing you remember - before you pass out from a painful shock - is a characteristic crunch in your right wing, for a moment you felt like you were doused with ice water, then the heat of a thousand suns pierced your body sharply. the pain was incredible, so much so that you didn't even have the strength to make a sound louder than a squeak squeezed deep in your chest. the blood was throbbing loudly in ears, pulse was just racing, but a couple of seconds on the ground seemed like an eternity before your brain gave up from the overwhelming amount of adrenaline, pain and fear.

when you woke up, the sun was pleasantly warming your cheek, persistently seeping through the coniferous thickets of the forest. "it seems this one is still alive," a high-pitched voice sounded somewhere above you, dismissively poking a healthy wing with a stick. “what's the difference, just finish her off and let's go, I don't want to be seen in the company of a fucker like you” - another, rough and low voice, boomed somewhere in the distance.

taking advantage of their small skirmish, you abruptly turned over, in the process backhand hitting the blond man in the face with a healthy wing, you crawled back to the trunk of a tree, painfully pulling up the wounded wing, covering yourself with it, and bringing clouds of dust with a healthy one. a pathetic attempt to delay the moment of death honestly. the agony from the broken wing pierced the entire right side of his body, waves of pain drowned out by adrenaline yesterday, now hit with renewed force. with a groan, throwing your head back, you turned your gaze up at the treetops, not wanting to see the faces of two bastards who will just kill you if you're lucky enough.

"but this one pretty adorable,what do you think, Gun?" the blond man said in an ordinary tone, turning his head to his companion, while a clawed hand squeezed your throat with incredible force, pressing harder into the tree. "oh! maybe she's some kind of an important person there? what do you say, poor thing? will they give us a reward if they find out that you're alive?" - the claws dug deeper into the skin when his face was so close, the vertical pupils piercing into your soul. "don't mess around, just kill her already, it's starting to get on my nerves" - an irritated voice approached, did the blond man call him Gun?

another clawed hand grabbed you by your cheeks, twisting your head, examining you. the pitch-black eyes narrowed, appraisingly surveying your entire appearance. "weeeeell, what do you think??" - the blond man drawled, slightly tucking his big ears in anticipation, several tails twitched animatedly behind his back. stop. stopstop. the blond one was a kitsune, but the black-eyed one had two thick horns sticking out of his forehead, so he was an oni. how could these two be standing here together?

"do whatever you want.." - clicking his tongue, oni turned around and headed into the thicket of the forest. "great! let me know when you want to visit us!" - his friend waved cheerfully at him, slowly turning to you and baring his fangs in a wide grin. "don't get him wrong, he liked you.." - he said affectionately, tucking your lock of hair behind your ear, - "we just haven't been able to grab tengu before... well, at least not alive. your brothers and sisters have never gone this far into the forest..." - his predatory grin didn’t leave his face as he examined your wounds and abrasions. "my name is Goo. my friend Yuzuru, but he prefers to call himself Gun," - a hot breath touched your ear when Goo whispered to you about his friend. "let's go heal your beautiful wing, what do you say, cupcake?"

another trap has just been snapped behind your back.

author’s note ; sammy, taejin, vinny and joker coming soon if u guys will like this series🫶🏻👅

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diejager · 2 years ago

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A Fantasy

Pairing: YANDERE Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Cw: NSFW, DARK, non-con, dub-con, non-con drugging, somnophilia, creampie, possessiveness, obsessiveness, breeding, marking, blood, biting, Stockholm syndrome, tell me if I missed any.

Wc: 9.8k

(A/N): FYI, Tracer’s (Overwatch 2) the reader’s mentor.

Requested by : @oyasumimosura

What stood before you was a great field of devastation and ruin, burned and broken buildings that used to be warm homes, lively parks that were turned to ashes, trees and plants laid wasted around dilapidated cars with broken windows and bent metal. People, young and old, laid motionless on the scarred ground, burnt black or left intact in a pool of their blood. Some were holding hands, a family, friends, a couple. Others were alone, forgotten, and left to their sad deaths.

One minute you were rushing through a portal, behind your mentor and besides your teammates, the Cavalry, as she liked to say. Rushing through fights to protect humanity and omnics and its future. The mission was like the one yesterday, the preparation, the meeting, the briefing, and the deployment, but the fate of it changed. A portal malfunctioned, it sent you elsewhere, far away and lost. This wasn't your world, this wasn't your universe, but now, you were in someone else's universe, playing their game.

The clock had struck and time felt meaningless on the battlefield, the sounds of beating aircraft blades, the booming shot of guns and the shockwaves of grenades were all people could hear. Soldiers were the only ones left, fighting against the other side - the enemy, the traitors, the terrorists - until one came out victorious.

While purposeful, the deaths and ruin of this Occidental village were regretful, families shattered, memories lost, and homes destroyed. All you could do was run around, trying to find the source of those cries you heard. A little girl's, whose tears welled for the mother she lost in the tirade of war.

The longer you ran, the closer you got to her. The girl's purple shirt and jeans were dirtied with soot and ash, dark from what was left of her village. You blinked, fazing through time and space to get to her more quickly. Rounding broken walls and jumping over fallen debris, you left a blue trail behind you, blinking your way to the crying kid.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest when you got to her, recalling to your previous position with the girl, behind a brick wall. She clung to you, eyes red and swollen, lips bit red and her cheeks puffy. She looked like a seven-year-old child, alone, lost, and miserable without her parents or protection.

"Don't worry, love, " you used the words Tracer often used when she saved someone, her reassuring and calm voice. "I'm here."

Those zigzagging lines of light lingered in his mind, a shadow of a woman making her way through the abandoned town. The spring in her steps and the flexibility of her movements, jumping higher than any man should've been able to and changing directions so easily. She was fast, vanishing in a line of blue light and then appearing once more meters away.

Ghost saw her save a child, no older than an eight-year-old - or so he thought. A lone child on the battlefield was dangerous, a death wish for the kid if his enemies got to her first. Fortunately, the athletic woman got to the kid before anyone could, swiping her into her arms and disappearing in a blink. Seconds ago, she stood next to the pole, now all that was left was a blur of blue. She had disappeared as quickly as she appeared.

He picked at the memory constantly, powers, it seemed, were her thing, speed and agility of which no one should be able to wield, but she did and she used it to save a child. Although he admired that from a stranger, the question of her being a danger to them was still left unanswered. Whether she could be trusted or an unknown enemy that would tip the scales in the enemy's favour.

However, months later, after the war ended, there weren't any sightings of her, anywhere on earth, as if she had disappeared - again. He remembered her, though, the determined glint beneath blue goggles, her hair tied in a ponytail, flowing through the air, and her pretty lips.

She could still be in Europe, she probably was, or so he hoped. It would mean that he could run the chance of meeting her, to quench his gnawing curiosity. It would be difficult - near impossible - to find her in the millions living in Europe, but he would keep his eyes open, he had questions and he wanted answers.

He wasn't a believer per se, nor was he an atheist, he had a veto in what he put his trust and belief in. He wouldn't curse others for not believing in a God or gods, he wouldn't scoff at those who believed in them, and everyone had their rights. At this moment, however, the thought of God helping him had crossed his mind.

He had dared cross his limit, entering a small cafe - or a bistro, he wasn't sure - blocks from his flat. It was small and homely, the air was warm with the smell of coffee and tea and the place welcoming with the smiling faces of the cafe's workers.

He sat far into the shop, his back against the softness of the booth's couch, bored eyes observing his surrounding for any danger. Even off duty, the habits that ensured his safety still stuck to him, following him wherever he went.

The waitress, a young-looking woman, with striking eyes and hair pulled in a bun, walked his way. Her face looked familiar, lashes framing her pretty eyes, blushed cheeks and beautiful full lips. He knew those lips, and those eyes, and her build, short and athletic, but strong.

It was the child-saving vigilante he saw, only without her blue goggles and her tight bodysuit, blue and white that emphasized her muscles (it was probably made for usefulness, sticking to her body without any stray cloth when she ran, it made running faster and easier.). Wearing a chemise and black pants, instead of the standard skirt the other women wore, her shoes clicked as she approached him, hand pulling out a pad from her black apron's pocket.

He froze when her hand disappeared into her pocket, the items inside were unknown to him, and the content could be dangerous to him. He had to remind himself that she was a civilian at the moment, not an enemy vying for his head. She was safe, as long as she didn't attack him. He waited for her to speak, her pretty lips forming the words she wanted to tell him.

"Good morning, sir," her voice was melodic, soft and inviting. He craved hearing her speak to him with the soft lull of her tone. "Have you decided?"

Decided? What had she - you - meant by "decided"? Then he remembered he was in a cafe, people walked in to order food and drinks, to go or to eat there. He couldn't drift off like that, he couldn't disappear into the darkest depth of his mind. It was a dangerous place.

He cleared his throat, blonde lashes fluttering as he blinked, staring at your face. You were pretty. His words rumbled out, slightly muffled by his black mask: "No." He neither spoke more nor less, blunt as a hammer and sharp as a knife.

"Would you like more time to decide?" You were polite, smiling at him although his only spoken words were brash. He didn't want you to go yet, he just found you, heard and spoke to you,

"Anything you- uh... you recommend?"

You perked up at his question, seeing a more approachable change in him. Your smile widened, brighter than before as you listed off the menu by heart. Your optimism reminded him of Johnny's, expressively happy and grinning. The cafe - Ma's cafe, he learned from you - had its famously brewed tea latte, a mixture of earl grey and vanilla latte.

He took your recommendation, and you left with a skip, apron bouncing with each step. He watched you walk behind the counter, shuffling around with cups and the machine - he thought it was a coffee machine, those with pre-made coffee in its tank - meticulously, knowing well what he ordered.

You came back minutes later with a smoking mug filled with a milky brown liquid. It was fitting its name - London fog - with the white swirls that mimicked the fog that filled the cool, morning air until early evening when the sun started heating everything.

"Thank you...?" Ghost tried, wanting to know your name, you didn't have a tag on your apron.

You gave him your name with the smile you gave everyone, a customer service kind of smile that would assure that you wouldn't get any complaints about your service. He repeated your name a few times in his mind, memorizing every syllable and the way it sounded so well.

He wanted to repeat your name, whisper it lowly, but he had to make sure you were farther away from him, or you'd hear him obsessively call you. It rolled off his tongue amazingly, a perfect symphony with his deeper, raspy voice. He'll get to know you better, he planned on visiting more often, to learn your schedule and watch over you.

He pushed every intrusive thought back, bringing the mug to his lips (he had pulled down his mask to drink). It was sweet, slightly bitter from the coffee, but sweet nonetheless, perhaps a bit too sugary. He savoured the drink you made him, breathing the warm aroma of your mix. You'd made it, you had it, and served it. It was made for him, with your care and smile.

Ghost came by the next week, wearing the same black hoodie and dark jeans. He sat at the same booth and waited for you to walk by with the same smile as the prior week. You did, eyes wide with recognition when you caught him staring at you from the corner booth. You made your way to him with a grin, clad in a similar uniform and a serving tray under your arm.

"You came back," your calming voice reached his ears, giving him something to cling to in the cafe.

He liked habits, familiar things and usual occasions, but he hated the new and the unknown. They were dangerous, and deadly in his line of work. You expressed your gratitude at the tip he left you, way over the usual price other usual clients would.

"I never got your name."

He hadn't given you his name? That's right, he didn't for fear of people finding out his true identity, a broken man hidden under the mask of a monster - a Ghost. Trust issues stacked with insecurities and his introverted tendencies had made forming relationships much harder, making friends complicated with the backlash of his many blunt comments and irritated huffs, and letting people in from the fear of being betrayed, backstabbed, beaten and abandoned.

You were a vigilante, you saved a girl, you smiled at him and greeted him like you would a friend. You didn't shy away, nor freeze at the mere sight of him. You were new, but you were good - or so he thought you were. To him, you could be the achieved unachievable, a friend made from dust, a relationship formed from miracles and normalcy.

He blinked, mumbling lowly his name, low enough that it only reached your ears. You cocked your head downward, your smile widening as you repeated his name.

"Nice to see you again, Simon. I'm happy to see you again."

He nearly shuddered from hearing his name roll off your tongue, so melodically spoken. He wants to hear you call his name again and again and again, as many times as you could until he got sick of it (he probably wouldn't, he was already addicted to the way you spoke).

He dozed at your words, that you were glad he came back. He was glad too. He wanted to come by the day after his first visit, but it would seem too strange, perhaps dangerous to see him every day at the same spot, at the same time of day. He was a man of schedules, organized and neat planning.

He figured he would start by buying once a week for a month or two, then change it to twice a week for the following months, until seeing him every day would become the norm for you. He would kickstart the routine and make it a usual appearance in your life. He would make *him* a usual appearance in your life.

"Same as last time, Simon?"

God, he loved hearing you say his name. He simply nodded, he would make it his usual, a hut sweet, but enough to drown the bitterness in his soul.

The leaves turned darker, shrivelling and dropping dead to the ground. The mellow sky grew gloomy, and colder with each passing day until it dropped so low that Ghost had to wear a thicker jacket over his usual hoodie. Autumn was at an end and winter crawled ever so closer.

He was back from deployment, on a temporary leave to "relax and diffuse" as Laswell said. Everyone was back home, Price with his cigar and Nik, Gaz back home with his girlfriend, Soap with his rowdy family of seven and Roach went home to open arms and warm welcomes from his parents.

Ghost only had an empty apartment - or he used to, he moved to a house on the quieter side of town - and the cute, dazzling waitress that served at Ma's cafe. That's where he was going, he texted you before he left, letting you know that he was back and ready for a hot cup of London fog and brunch.

You read his message, replying with a "Copy that, Lieutenant". It became a running joke between you after he told you about his work, nothing classified or too detailed, but enough to let you know he was built to fight and survive.

The bell rang when he pushed the door, seeing you peer out of the kitchen once he stepped in. He was hit with a warm embrace, the cafe's heater worked well, warming the place and making it cozy enough to eat with only a t-shirt on. He gave you a nod, finding his way to his usual spot, the one he sat at for the past months.

How many months have passed since he first stumbled here? He couldn't remember everything became a blur when it was associated with you. His moments with you were warmer and calmer than at the start. You opened up to him, walls crumbling down and letting yourself build something out of it: a friendship with Ghost.

He liked being friends - for now. He had plans to make a move, to push farther, into unknown territory and try his luck. He had a feeling you'd say yes, he loved you so much and you showered him with adoration and smiles, you had to be in love with him, no? Of course, you were, he wasn't delusional, he was of sound mind, careful.

"Welcome back, Simon," you strut to him so casually, the same clothes, the same smile. "How was your deployment? Soap and Roach got into any trouble?"

He spoke fondly of his TF, they were his family, and he felt proud when he talked about them to you. He invited them once, and they all loved you as much as he did, you were sociable and easy to talk to. Though Price and Soap had the biggest effect on you, they reminded you of someone. You told him about your friends, chaotic like his TF, but a family. It sounded like an ops team, he wouldn't be surprised. He remembered the first time he saw you, it was still fresh in his memory.

"Soap stirred up some shite again," Ghost huffed, sloshing his shoulders to appear more relaxed in your presence, to make him seem less threatening than he was. "No casualties, everyone made it out fine. Bit bruised but alive."

"That's the main objective, no?" You chuckled at Ghost's indignified groans about Soap and Roach behaving like children high on sugar.

You stuck around longer now, gracing him with a bit of random chatter. He got to know about your days, your activities, your wishful thinking and your goals. He discovered something new every day, whether it came from your lips or from his own time.

You stood by his table until the chef rang the call bell. You winked charmingly and turned to get his order, he hadn't ordered yet, but he came by so often, ordering the same that the employees knew what to make when he walked through the door.

He liked the normalcy, where he came by once every two days when he was on leave. If the Task Force was sent on a mission, he could be gone a few days, a few weeks or a month. It always varied, but he made it work with his hate of the unknown, the unpredictable.

"Are you free tonight, love?" Ghost asked, eyes gazing from your hands to your lips.

He found that open-mouthed expression at his question. You seemed hesitant to answer him, thinking about your reply to the man who tipped you well and was as close as a friend to you; or perhaps you were simply shocked that he finally asked you out, and wondering if you had time for him.

You nodded, a smug smile replacing your shock: "How 'bout eight? I finish at seven tonight."

" 'S fine, eight at the bar down the street?"

"It's a date then."

His heart almost broke his ribs, beating wildly against its cage when the word "date" left your lips. He had a date with you tonight, he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps you meant as a date between friends than one between lovers, but at that moment, all he could think was how your hands would feel between his, how your soft, plump lips would feel over his and how your body would feel against his, below and over him.

He dove into his delusional mind, imagines and dreams swimming freely, jumping from one to the other. He had dreams for once, a wish that he hoped you'd indulge, and a family he wanted but lost.

Everything seemed to go the way he planned, you waved at him when you saw him waiting outside the bar and giddily joined him. He found a quiet and mellow corner at the bar, a table pushed against the wall with two stools.

The bartenders knew him, he drank here with the others, and they didn't bother him and served and usual. Some were surprised he brought a friend - a woman - with him but left him to his own.

You sat down and downed a few beers while he drank his bourbon. You spoke sporadically, hands waving enthusiastically with every word. Your cheeks were flushed, slightly pink and warm from the alcohol, but you were lively, animated and happy.

It made him happy, seeing you so mirthful around him, being able to let loose from your stricter atmosphere at Ma's cafe. Your tense shoulders were looser, your back relaxed from its ramrod-straight position and your voice felt more invigorated. The alcohol might've played a part, running through your system and making you bolder.

The first time always played well, just as he imagined, and the thing that solidified everything was your parting words: "Next time's on me, Simon!"

You drank together every week, from friends to drinking buddies, there was nothing more intimate than that, to trust someone with your drunk self and your loose tongue, spewing words and thoughts the second they crossed your mind.

That boosted his confidence, the feeling that he could confess, and tell you his deepest and darkest thoughts and wants. You'd know what kind of man he was, broken and messily put together, like a DIY project made by a child gone wrong. He had sharp edges and missing pieces, a cracked personality and dangerous thoughts. He was a SAS soldier after all, once you become one, you see some twisted shit.

Like the week before, you walked out together, your legs shaky but still able to walk home, accompanied by Ghost. He helped you to your apartment, his broad shadow looming over the door, silent as always. When your shaky hands were able to unlock the door, turning the knob and opening the door, you turned around to bid your drinking buddy good night.

Lips parting to say the words, until he cut you off, his chapped lips met yours. His gloved hands caressed your cheek, thumb rubbing under your wide eyes as he held you in place. His lips were warm and plump, but chapped, a scar running over it.

His eyes were closed, lips on you for a few seconds longer until he pulled away, a dazed look in his eyes. While he expected a reaction from you, he hadn't envisioned shock and sadness, one that made his gut plummet. He winced at your expression, unable to understand what he did wrong. He thought you loved him.

"I- Simon, I- I can't, I'm sorry," you hushed out sadly, head turned down to stare at your feet. You were unwilling to gaze into his disappointed - probably heartbroken - eyes.

"Why?" He rasped, voice hoarse as if he hid cried for hours, or was on the brink of tearing up.

"I just can't, Simon," you persisted, feeling much more sober than the last few minutes. His surprise had severed you up - willingly or unwillingly. "I don't mind staying friends, but I can't get too attached. I won't be here much longer."

" 'Cause you're not from here?" He scoffed, but it didn't hold any resentment or irritation, simply sorrow and distress. " 'Cause you're from another world?"

You whipped your head to stare at him, your mouth agape and fearful shock glazed over your eyes. How could he have possibly known? While your identity was fabricated work, you know how to make a believable fake ID, Genji's knowledge helped you. You stepped back, hand reaching for your door knob, unsure of what Simon would do to you now that the secret was out.

He turned and ambled out, shoulders slumped slightly without a word to you. His world shattered once again, God seemed hellbent on making his life a misery.

He stopped coming after your "altercation", you felt horrible, but you couldn't let your heart run wild when you know Winston would find a way to fix the portal in a year or two. One had already passed and you couldn't overindulge in this world's pleasures and leave when you got too attached.

Yet, grief at being relieved that he never appeared again clawed at you, he knew you weren't from his world. It was dangerous information, especially in bad hands, but you couldn't do anything about it. This world had different rules and standards, it worked differently and you weren't book-smart like Winston or Torb. You were a simple agent working under Tracer.

You did, however, regret letting Simon leave so abruptly, he was an amazing friend, the perfect drinking buddy and would probably be a caring lover, but couldn't risk it. Even if you wanted to text him, and apologize over and over until Simon would talk to you again, you knew how to respect people's boundaries. If he left so coldly, never passing by, texting or calling told you enough. He needed time to calm down and clear his mind.

You went back and forth between your home and the cafe every night, your original routine - before meeting Simon - felt alien to you. You'd been so used to seeing Simon at the back of the shop, a hot London fog in his hands and crepes on his plate with melting butter. It was foreign to see the spot occupied by another client, or the cold spot in your chest when it was vacant.

You disliked it. You hated it. The cold, the silence, you wanted to see him at least once.

Can we meet? Usual place. was the sudden text you received from Simon during your shift. It was dated today at 5:39.

Without a second thought, you replied, affirming the date and time, tonight, right after your shift on Friday. A weight was lifted from your shoulder, the silence from Simon was broken and he finally reached out to you. Your break to let him calm down had worked it seemed, the let him cool down and clear his mind.

It was late by the time you got to the pub, around nine. You had returned home and fixed up your depressed look for a more lively one, hoping it would make Simon feel better. You caught him at your usual place, head hung low and demeanour shut off from the world around him. You took hesitant steps towards him, he didn't look exactly sober from the number of cups decorating the table, nor did he look drunk, from his sharp, hooded eyes.

"Simon, " you greeted him slowly, nearly flinching when his brown eyes washed over your smaller figure. Chills erupted through the ends of your nerves, fingers twitching at the sudden burst of danger you felt from your friend. You had no reason to be scared, wary of his demeanour, but not scared or hateful. He'd yet to act out violently or malevolently.

He gave a curt nod, emotions bleeding through his eyes. He was a stoic man, but his eyes were extremely emotional, pain, regret, grief, hate and joy were some you'd seen flash in those pretty brown of his.

He had a whole bottle ordered in advance, the cap still tightly screwed onto the bottle's neck. He poured you a cup, of rum straight out of the bottle without ice or any accessories.

Thanking him, you sipped on your drink it felt hot and heady on your tongue, it burned your throat. You hadn't drank since you'd last seen Simon, weeks ago, and you could see - feel - its effect. You coughed slightly but still downed the rest.

"You wanted to see me?" Your question left an odd sensation on your tongue. He hadn't spoken a word since you walked in, always the brooding, silent menace. He stared, fixated on you or something on you, it was perturbed you.

"I wanted to apologize, love."

You missed that low hum in his voice, and the caring way he said you "love". You'd been used to it since most British you knew always called someone they cared for "love" or "dear", loving terms of endearment used publicly. Now, however, you knew it weighted, an undertone to its meaning, a special significance in his heart.

"Didn't mean to jump you like that," he continued, regret painting his rough tone. "It felt right; to me. Guess I was more plastered than I thought."

He was human and alcohol coursed through his system. It made him bold and erratic, he acted out without a second thought. You could forgive him for the influence his bourbon had on him; you were going to forgive him anyway.

Although you felt better with his apology, forgiveness for his sudden move wasn't what you prioritized. You wanted answers. How did he know? Was it a sudden, incomprehensible blurb that he spat in a spike of hate and pain? Or was it conscience wording from his drunk mind?

"Do you remember that night?" You lost your smile, pursed lips and hardened eyes at your questioning - interrogation of him.

"'Course I do."

"Do you remember what you said? About me coming from somewhere else."

He nodded, eyes levelled to stare straight at you, unwilling to hide or lie, he spoke honestly, "Another world, love. Didn't forget."

"How'd you know? I'm not exactly showcasing it to everyone in bright colours. So how?"

"Saw you save that girl, lil babe crying for her mother," his answer was slow and purposeful, giving you what you wanted to hear. He recalled the event that occurred months prior, everything aligned with your own experience. "We don't - can't - have shite like that, too developed and powerful. Nothin' like that's possible in this era. So I figured you weren't from here. "

His reasoning made sense, his wording was careful, and it seemed like he had time to think about it. The time you gave him had helped. You kept your doubts to yourself, questions you had that he probably didn't have the answer to. A way back; a way home; an escape. All things he had no answer to.

So your shoulders relaxed and asked Simon to pour you a second cup, to which he obliged. You drank and smiled, back to the trying times when you just started drinking with him, the unknown and the awkwardness that lingered in the air stung.

You don't remember how many cups you had, or how many bottles you finished. Did you even finish the first one? Did you get halfway through before your vision started blurring and your mind dazed into mumbles of incoherent words? Simon hadn't touched another cup since the world around you blurred, the corners of your eyes turning black and your movement slowed to a slur.

He paid for the drink on his tab, slinging your arm over his shoulder, hand holding your waist as he walked out. You were drunk out of your mind, but something felt different, you don't remember being this inebriated the last time you drank half a bottle of rum. Was there something else in it?

Simon dropped you in the back, buckling you in before he made sure you sat upright. He was close, his neck bare and sweaty, his musk smelled strong and heavy, smoke and gunpowder weighing at the back of your throat. Although your vision was faulty, you could see the tight muscle of his neck and shoulder tense as he worked.

His scent stuck to you as he closed the door and drove home, the air in the car smelling like him. Whatever had drained you, lulled you to sleep, taking comfort in the familiar warmth even if a small part of you started panicking.

He had you, in the basement of his house, soundproof and padlocked from the outside. Any risk was accounted for and any escape plans were foiled prematurely by his quick mind.

Ghost laid you beneath him, on the soft, plush bed he bought and built for you, queen-sized for the times he'd spend cuddling you. He had you splayed, body limp and limbs pliant to his every desire. He admired your sleeping form, how your lace fluttered lightly and your lips perked, thinking on the corners as if you were wincing - a duck face - and your peaceful expression. You were adorable.

Your shirt came off first, pulled over your head and thrown over his shoulders, then your bra. Without his gloves, your skin felt soft, hot to the touch. Kneading your breasts, he held one in each hand and felt the fat. You twitched and mewled faintly when he pinched your nipples, hardened by the cooler air hitting your drunk-induced heat. He kissed them, lips closing around your nipple and sucking loudly. He gave each one the same amount of attention, pulling off with a wet pop.

His fingers trailed the lines of your abdomen, strong and athletic, but not too burly like anyone in the army. He admired your figure, half-naked and unconscious on his bed, in his home. He kissed down your stomach as he took your pants off, sliding leg after leg out, leaving you only in your panties.

You were beautiful: your skin - soft, your hair - silken, your lips - wonderful to kiss, and your eyes - gems. You were breathtaking to look at, a treasure to his eyes solely. You were an unblemished canvas, unmarked by other men - in his mind - by sin, and your scars were trophies, won through difficult times. He wanted to be the one painting you, displaying you prettily for his eyes alone. Pieces of works were kept secret like Michelangelo's love poems and sketches.

His eyes wandered the expanse of your body, groaning when he saw the wet patch, your body had reacted to his caresses, your arousal turning the spot over your cunt darker, wet. He pushed his nose to it, breathing in the tangy musk. His fingers hooked under the string and ripped it off with a harsh tug. You wouldn't need underwear anymore once he was done with you.

Ghost's pupils dilated, wide, blown eyes as it keyed on your slick cunt. He adjusted your legs, moving them over his shoulders to have better access to you. He gave a testing lap, running the flat of his tongue over your rim, prodding your clenching opening and leaving at your pulsating clit.

You tasted delicious, he growled and dove back. Tongue circling your button, sucking loudly, lifting the protective hood to let it swell and throb. He held your hips tightly ad you squirmed and moaned, but you never awoke. The drug he gave you was potent, tested on bigger, stronger military men. It could knock them out, so it would pull a stronger reaction from you.

It weighed on his mind, that he resolved to drugging you and bringing you home to be able to show you just how much he loved you. He'd preferred if you were awake, he wanted your first time together to be wonderful - fantastic - in all ways, but you would've protested, fought him and left him once more. He couldn't risk losing you completely, it hurt.

He had no other choice and felt guilty, but he couldn't let his mind wander when he had you under him, ripe for the taking. He pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on you, his needy girl.

His tongue returned between your leg, cheek nuzzling into your sweating thighs. He alternated between sucking your button, lips enclosing around it, and dipping his tongue into you, groaning anomalistically at your tensing walls. He pushed his forefinger in, joining his ravenous tongue. His nose bumped your clit, jerking you each time.

A second finger joined the first and his tongue left to give attention to your neglected clit, pumping to the third knuckles and curling upwards. You arched off the bed, hips buckling into his open mouth as he stretched you open with a third finger. The sound was lewd and wet, loud in his ears.

His cock twitched, straining against his pants, the fabric tight and inflexible, nearly painful. He wanted to relieve the tightness, that burning ache deep in his guts, but his needs came second to yours.

He flickered his tongue and pushed his fingers deeper, curling and panting against you. You spasmed, legs closing around his head, squeezing him as you came. His fingers eased out slowly to savour the taste of your arousal, mouth covering your fluttering hole and slurping the slick that drizzled down your ass.

He loved how you tasted, sweet and salty, like a healthy, ripe fruit ready to be bitten into, juicy and perfect. He almost lost himself, dazed by your essence and his anguish; if only you'd accepted him early, you would've been awake and conscious of this act, and you'd be able to love and embrace him as he did to you. He wouldn't have to wait so long, in pain and regret, for not wooing you enough. He wouldn't have to feel so guilty.

Snapping from his hazed thinking, he lowered your legs and climbed off the bed to undress. He peeled his hoodie and shirt, which stuck to his skin by sweat, and he dropped his pants once he unbuckled his belt. His cock bobbed, slapping wetly against his navel before it hung heavily between his legs, the head achingly red and swollen. His balls felt heavy, and tight from all the neglect. They were big and full, ready to pump his seed into you.

He cradled you, pulling your legs over his elbows and slotting his hips to yours, his cock over your slit. He moved his hips, slicking his shaft with your juices, groaning at the wet warmth under him. When it felt slick enough, he dipped the tip in, your labia stretching to swallow his uncut head. The sound was downright filthy in his ears, the squelch and your strained moans.

He watched himself inch deeper, sinking into your depths with unrelenting hunger, panting and growling until he bottomed out, his balls sitting snug against your ass. His bulbous tip kissed your cervix, nudging it as he rolled his hips, testing how deep he could reach and how strong he could fuck.

He slowly pulled out, hearing the wet noise of his cock slipping out to the tip, and slammed in, his balls slapping the roundness of your ass. He rocked wildly, groaning each time he bottomed out, feeling the heat of your walls clench around him like a vice. Your spasming walls wrenched low moans from him, as often as you whimpered and mewled.

"Fuck- you feel so fuckin' good-" he pushed out through his clenched teeth, his cock twitching when you tightened around him.

Your legs shook, your back arching slightly and your voice keening loudly. He covered your body with his, lips meeting yours in a hungry and possessive kiss, tongue diving into your mouth and committing it to memory. His hand found your clit, thumb rubbing your sensitive nub, urging you towards your end.

Keening, you came, gripping him with a vice. He grunted, his pace becoming sloppy as he chased his peak after yours, breathing in your neck with dazed, hooded eyes. He swore, thrusting as deep as he could and came, his seed rushing to fill you.

"Fuck- fuck-" he gasped, rocking a few times into you, riding off his edge until he calmed down.

White globs leaked from your stuffed cunt, rolling down your ass and leaving a trail. His chest rumbled happily, bending down to kiss you slowly, soft and adoring compared to the last. He slid out when he softened, his cum oozing out of your gaping heat, the plug keeping everything in left.

He loved watching you full, oozing of him, asleep and satiated in the bed he bought for you. You were both coated in sweat and cum, hair sticking to your glistening skin. Your dishevelled and panting aroused him, his soft cock jerking upwards, hardening moments after he just came.

"We're not done yet, love."

You felt heavy and warm, a heat - a body - held you tightly, fingers carding through your hair and caressing your back. It smelled like sweat and smoke, a familiar musk. You opened your eyes, seeing a pale, burly chest, Simon's naked chest. You froze, body tensing, shoulders squaring and arms ready to push him back.

"Morning, love," his voice was raspy with sleep, deep and calm as he greeted you, his lips meeting your hairline. "Slept well?"

You frowned, legs moving, jutting out from between his knees as you struggled to free yourself. Your body felt sore, the peak of your discomfort coming from your heat, a pulsating and warm pain. You feared the worst.

When you looked down, you were covered by only a shirt, a big, dark grey t-shirt that smelled like Simon, it reached your knees. You winced, seeing your nakedness and Simon's pants hanging low on his hips, flashing the sharp dip of his navel and his sculpted torso. It left little to imagine, the red blemishes on your neck and shoulders, slightly faded from his careful handling and bruises the size of his fingers around your thighs.

"You-" you coughed before you could day anymore, throat dry and scratchy, alcohol dehydrated people faster.

"Drink," he held you up, back to his chest, arms slipping around you too comfortably to hand you a cup of water, cool and fresh.

He had expected this, he wasn't as delusional as he first seemed, and he was prepared. You took it, gulping it down carefully, counting the seconds - minutes - that would pass until the drug kicked in, if he had diluted any in your water.

He hummed happily, his chest vibrating as he wrapped his arms around you, nosing the collar of your neck, he placed fluttering kisses on your open shoulder. The collar of his shirt slipped from one side, exposing your skin. His teeth grazed you, teasingly nipping you with warm puffs of air.

You gulped, gathering whatever wits you still had after this whole kidnapping situation. Your mind was running miles per second, eyes gleamed over with tensions and tiredness, and your body sore from Simon's perverse affection.

"Where am I?" your voice was small, still raspy from - what you assumed - moaning and mewling.

"Home," he mumbled, latching onto your skin and sucking a dark spot.

Home? It neither meant your flat nor safety. It was *his* home, a prison he built for you. You looked around. You thought it better to get to know the place he decided to keep you captive, to learn and discover its secrets, anything you could use against or for you.

It was like a studio apartment, everything was open apart from the bathroom, it had a small kitchenette with a fridge (probably in case he left for a while, deployed in another country while he kept you here.), a bookshelf filled to the brim with books and a desk pushed to the side. He'd forgone leaving you with a television, a mobile device, a phone or a computer, all were risks of you getting out.

The walls were painted over, bare of windows and stairs lead to a door, locked from both sides. He locked you in his basement, beneath his house and every other neighbour's nose. No one would come to your rescue if you screamed. No one would hear your cries of anguish or your pleas for freedom.

He bit down, teeth pressing onto your skin, denting the scarred flesh with his teeth marks. You yelped, the area hot and painful, his strength leaving an almost skin-deep bleeding, fiery and red. It was irritated and swelled in seconds. He moved from one patch to the other, determined to mark up your shoulder before possibly moving on to the next one.

You squirmed on his lap, trying to free yourself from his restrictive hold. You gripped his hands, digging your blunt nails into his forearms. He scoffed, nuzzling the bites he made, tongue lapping at the bleeding lines.

"Ghost," you gasped, legs kicking and body struggling.

Clicking followed every kick, the distinct sound of metal rattling in a disorderly way. You looked down your leg, catching the cuff around your right ankle, a long chain kept you jailed in the basement. It was long and winding, enough to comfortably walk laps around your new accommodation but too short to reach the door.

You stared at it incredulously, the utter rage and disgust that burned in your gut that he planned to keep you as if you were a glorified pet or some sort of prize he scouted and obtained.

You knew he liked you before, it was a simple and innocent crush, like finding your first one and not knowing how to react. That, and the fact he was a soldier, scarred by time and marked by warfare made him so standoffish. You thought it was simple, but now, it was too late to forget, to not look, to let bygones be bygones.

He was obsessed, not necessarily sane, but not crazy either. He wasn't delusional, by everything he set up as a precaution, but he let his darkness fester, grow and crack the surface of his calm and stoic persona. He was still calm and meticulous, but it was a different kind, storming ideas for your imprisonment and wishes he wanted to make true. Ghost and Simon overlapped, neither good nor evil, he was simply letting the monster rage uncontrolled.

His pent-up emotions drove him to the edge, and your rejection pushed him over, tipping the scale of his sanity. That's how you ended up in your current situation, his hands wandering over your thighs, dipping between them and down to your knees. He still nipped at your skin, biting and pulling the collar down the other shoulder. His teeth sunk into the muscle between your neck and shoulder, warm fingers slipping under his shirt to knead your chest.

You winced, flinching when he plucked your nipples, pulling on them until you let out a pained whine.

"Stop-!" your hands followed his, clamping around his wrists and dragging him out, but he stayed firm, unmoving to your will as he twirled your mounds. "Fucking stop!"

He huffed, hands dropping to your lap. He mumbled into your bitten skin, groaning in complaints about not letting him care for you. His complaints came with hot breaths on your nape, mouthing the back, turning silent and unmoving.

His quietness was familiar to you, his penchant for sifting through his thoughts in utter silence. Then he moved, draping the covers over your body, tucking you in. He stood at your bedside, expression lighting in a gentle smile. Under the dim lighting of the room, he looked like a beautiful angel. A gold halo hovered over his blonde locks, framing his pale skin and warm, brown eyes.

He kissed your forehead, lips lingering a few seconds longer as he took in the calming moment. He had you, he had you in his home.

"How about breakfast? Fried eggs and bangers, how's that sound?"

The normalcy of eating breakfast in bed, to wake up and be greeted with a British breakfast made by Simon. He liked the idea of such normality, it was romantic, domestic even. To be able to cook for you and serve you the food he made, he'd eat at the table in the middle of the room, seated opposite from you.

He left before you could give him a piece of your mind, or your reply to his question. Fried eggs, you knew what that was, but *bangers*, what the fuck was that?

The stairs creaked lightly, bending under Simon's weight, but his steps were silent - dangerous. The lock clicked when it was unlocked, and he left you alone, the door locking behind him. Gone was your escape, gone was your freedom, gone was your life with the door locking before you.

Time seemed endless, it went by in a blink or in long, painful moments that left you angry. He hadn't given you a clock, and without anything technological (the microwave didn't have the time, whatever Simon had done, worked. Time never played on the four-letter screen.), you couldn't tell day from night, seconds from minutes and minutes from hours. Time dragged agonizingly slowly, the only clue was Simon kept a pattern: three meals a day, breakfast, dinner and supper before going to bed with his arms wrapped around you.

How long you've stayed here was unknown. You couldn't know and Simon didn't want to tell you. He changed subjects or glared at you until you dropped it or he decided to drop it. You had no link to the outside, no way of knowing if you'd been announced missing or if anyone was worried. Simon had cut all your connections to the world around you, just outside your reach, on the other side of these walls that confined you.

You desperately needed to know about your case, if they knew, if they filed a missing person report if they were searching for you. It pained you to be ignorant of everything but your small world, the things that happened in your small room. Everything you knew was Simon.

His horribly, soothing words in his deep voice, speaking into your ear or your hair, whispering his dreams and his hopes, his love and his adoration. His wandering hands, raking the tension from your shoulders, the knots in your back, your worry from your eyes and lips, and the pleasure - forced - he brought upon you.

Entertainment was brought through him, or through the books he left for you, most were erudite, both old and new novels. Bram Stoker's Dracula, The Silence of the Lambs and The Heart of Darkness were a few of the novels you'd caught on the bookshelf.

He also fed you. Most days, he'd stay until it was time to eat, he would leave - sometimes half an hour or a whole hour, it ranged between depending on the meal - and come back with warm plates. They always smelled good and they tasted better.

It surprised you how skilled he was in cocking, as he was in infiltration, sniping, abducting and killing. Perhaps he took the time apart from you to forge his plan, to learn to cook and to care.

You ate, slowly and contemplatively. He stared at you eat, always making sure you took the first bites before digging into his own plate. It weighed heavy in your gut, like a reluctant gift you were bestowed, and Simon made sure you ate everything.

You felt dazed, gone, after eating, as if a cloud washed over your mind that made you slower, and sluggish with everything you did. The food was drugged, you were aware of that when you first felt lethargic. It made you less testy, less bratty as Simon grumbled, you were more pliant to his whims and easier to move when you tried fighting him.

Though it eased the nausea that wracked your body in the mornings, the sudden discomfort in your abdomen and the heaviness that the ache gave. You rarely needed to move from the bed if the urge to vomit came up, Simon kept pills for that. If you did, he'd comfort you, holding your hair back as the content of your stomach surged upwards.

Your time spent with Simon was time spent organizing your thoughts, Winston was smart, engineering-wise, he was amazing. Then there was Mercy with her medical breakthrough and Torb with his ingeniously brilliant machines. If they came together, found what went wrong with the portal you went through.

Trace would be so worried if she wasn't already dead worried. She was a caring and responsible mentor, taking you in before and after the fall of Overwatch. Nearly twelve years under her and this was the first mishap. You spent nearly two years in Simon's world - you counted the time your could count, the days you spent working and enjoying life as much as you could in a different place - and your heart never stopped missing your family.

You missed Jack - Soldier: 76 - when he would openly laugh, and Gabriel, when he was still the man he was. You missed Tracer's fussing, blinking around with so much energy, and Reinhardt's proud standard when he loomed over his teammates with his Barrier Field. You missed them horribly, they were the glue that kept you hoping for freedom.

It happened when you nearly conceded to Simon's whims, bending to his will and words, letting his hands wander your body and feeling pleasure - genuine. His confessions were parroted, and his I love youwas returned.

You ate less, however, the lump in your gut grew by the days, weighing heavier and heavier. You had weird cravings, followed by nausea most mornings, gripping the toilet bowl with your head hung low. Simon held your hair back and rubbed soothing circles on your back, bemoaning about your pains and cramps.

He left a few times during your period of captivity, vanishing for long periods - usually a week or two - and had you manage everything on your own. He had cameras set up, watching your every move, connected to whatever device he decided to watch you.

He was deployed a week ago, his steps never walking to the door during the week, but now, you could hear his booming steps around the house. They were loud and intentional. Dread always filled your body when you learned he came back, he was clingy, handsy and obsessive when he came back, growling that he would burn down the world if couldn't have you; or that he was thinking about you - constantly - and that the video feed on his phone was never enough.

You picked up on his pace, hurried and panicked. They stomped around the house in search of something before it stopped at your door. Your ears perked on the clicking of the lock, straining to listen to his heaving breaths.

Crack

You jerked forward. Something behind you cracked, the loud cracking filled the air as you turned. A blue swirl cracked the shift in reality, like glass fracturing and breaking into pieces, it glowed with every line. It pulsed calmly, the swirls capturing your attention. You felt drawn to it, your hands twitching with the urge to touch it, to let your fingers swim in the infinite pool.

"(Name), are you there?" a voice called from the other side, small and feminine. It was dripping with worry and exhaustion. "Luv, are you there?" she cried a second time, a hand emerging from the portal.

You knew the voice, the warm, familiar voice that called out to you with love and compassion. A friend. A mentor. A family.

You reached out to it, hand inches from hers. Then the door to your cage burst open, his screams echoing in the basement. He hurried down the stairs as fast as he could, mask still on his face as he reached for you. His gloved fingers grasped the air for you, rushing towards you with immense worry and fear in his eyes.

Mere seconds behind you, his fingers grazed your back as you fell into the waiting arms of your mentor. He was too late, he fell on the vacant bed, watching the portal close behind you. He clutched the bending, the place you sat moments ago. It was still warm, your heat and smell still mixed into your sheets.

He spun lies about your absence, about your sudden disappearance from his world. You moved away after your breakup, you distanced yourself from him to make the move easier on your heart and his. The TF had accepted the excuse, solemnly nodding about your leave and wishing they could have said farewell to a good friend.

They moved on with life, still smiling nostalgically when you were brought up, but Ghost was left heartbroken. He knew something was wrong that day, the itch in his brain about something happening at home. That's why he was in such a hurry, in a panicked frenzy to get home - to get to you. He was too late though, seeing you being pulled into a portal. Dooming was the effect on him; devastation was the pain in his heart; shattering was the sorrow of his soul.

He poured everything into keeping you, only to lose you. Now, he poured every second of his life into work, never letting his mind wander to the bump on your stomach or the subtle relinquishment in your actions to him.

He was deader than dead, colder and more stoic than before. They saw the change, they understood, but never blamed you. Everyone had fallouts, Simon just had more than the rest of the world. That's why he played Ghost more often than before, building his walls higher and his appearance darker.

Yet somehow, Soap was enthusiastic enough to rope him into playing games on his console (he used to play more before finding time between deployments to jump into a match with the others). Overwatch 2, an evolution of the first made better. Soap promised it was good. His spiel about the characters having a profound background and the gameplay being fun. Ghost was doubtful, he and Soap didn't have the same definition of fun, they were associated with different things.

He liked Soap, though, so he humoured his sergeant. He downloaded it on his console, watching the white line charge until it became playable. Soap had mentioned a few names: Genji, Sombra, Reaper and Zenyatta, he even joked about Reaper resembling him, the skull mask and the dark drapes. He'd also gushed - like an over-enthusiastic gamer - about a new character, a woman, the sole student of this Tracer.

He scoured through the lists of players, eyes skimming over the faces before he spotted a familiar one. It was more cartoonish, drawn in gentle lines and beautiful shades. Your face, it was your beautiful face. He nearly dropped his controller, hands shaking and body heavy.

Was it guilt that washed over him? Was it pain that washed over him? Was it sorrow and melancholy that washed over him? Or was it his world that came crashing down on his shoulders?

The world dulled, his breath became stagnant and shallow as he stared at your hero. You were standing proud and fearless, guns held in your hands with a bright smile. He watched you emote, your character moving as it was coded. He scrolled through your skills and perks, some he remembered you use. You blinked and recalled, moving back and forth between time and space, breaking the fragile shift in the world.

Soap was right about the new hero, you were interesting and lovely. In a flurry of emotions, he opened up your biography - or a snippet of your backstory. Every word bled his heart, every act and every situation wracked his body with sadness. The more he read, the more his tears threatened to fall.

You kept your - his - child, a beautiful kid with his blonde hair and your eyes, a round, yet sharper face like his. You kept him, you hadn't aborted the child. You gave birth and he wasn't there. You took care of your kid and he wasn't there. You watched him grow and he wasn't there.

He cried, body closing on itself. His shoulders shook, his vision blurred and his face streaked with tears. A broken sob broke through his throat, restricted and pained with waves of emotion, deep and harrowing sadness of his loss.

"I miss you, love," he rasped, his fingers gripping his hair, nearly ripping out the seams. "I miss you."

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