#(I was fighting for my life trying to revenge everyone) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wttcsms · 2 months

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angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3

Don’t do it.

He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)

He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.

(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.

And he does.

Every. Single. Time.)

For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.

(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.

After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)

The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.

As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.

Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.

Don’t do it.

He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes.

The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.

“Move.”

It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.

“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.

School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.

The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.

For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.

And they’re not wrong, anyway.

(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)

Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.

Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.

(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)

No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.

And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.

“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.

(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)

“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.

He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.

Little boy.

He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.

“Leave him alone.”

Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.

Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.

He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.

You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.

All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.

“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”

The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.

“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.

“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.

Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.

“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”

“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”

The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.

After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.

You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.

“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”

It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.

Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.

“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.

“We’re not friends.”

“Too late. I told my dad we were.”

There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.

You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.

“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.

“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?

“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”

“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.

(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”

Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)

People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.

(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)

“Hmm. Okay.”

But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.

The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.

You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.

“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.

“What’s this for?”

“For you to eat, silly.”

“...How much?”

“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.

“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”

“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)

“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”

He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.

“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”

Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.

Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.

“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”

“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”

“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.

No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.

“And yet, you’re still always here.”

You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.

(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.

Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.

Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.

“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”

You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.

You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.

“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.

If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.

Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)

You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.

(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.

“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.

“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.

“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”

“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?

“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”

“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”

The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.

“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.

“Are you sure about that?”

You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.

“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.

You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.

For your words to be true.)

You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.

He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.

(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”

“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.

“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)

It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.

Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.

Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.

It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.

Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.

Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.

“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

“No.”

You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.

“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.

It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.

“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”

“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.

“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.

(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)

There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.

You like Megumi.

Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.

And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.

It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.

It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.

Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.

He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?

Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.

Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.

Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.

You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.

gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now

Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.

You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.

Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.

He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.

Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…

Do you hate him now?

It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.

He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.

If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.

You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.

He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.

“Ow, man, what the fuc—”

“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.

“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”

Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.

He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.

He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.

It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.

The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.

The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.

It’s locked.

His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.

Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away.

He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.

It’s a phone ringing.

He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”

Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.

The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.

“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”

He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.

The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.

It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.

The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.

“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.

Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.

The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.

Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.

“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.

As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now?

You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.

The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.

The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.

It’s only a matter of time.

You’re too good to be true.

You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.

“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.

You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.

Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.

“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.

You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.

“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.

“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that? I could fuck you forever.”

His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.

“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.

There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.

He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.

“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”

“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.

“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.

“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”

He’s silent for a minute.

“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.

You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”

Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.

Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.

Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.

He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.

And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.

Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.

Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?

It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.

He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.

Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.

Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.

“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”

“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”

“So then why do you have to go look for it?”

“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”

At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.

From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.

Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.

Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—

—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.

In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro’s world crumbles to ashes.

#megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fluff #one shot #drabble #smut #megumi smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #yakuza au #THIS IS SO OLD IM CRYING #like rereading it... omg what was i ON???

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bluegiragi · 6 months

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okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

#also as an aside on the price ghost situation #it was a real blind leading the blind situation during his recovery #not a lot is known about wraiths and practically nothing about minimising their…wraithiness #so price was just acting knowing that this was Simon now #and Simon needed him #I promise I’m going to draw this whole thing in a backstory plot line #askbox #anon

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xiaoriae · 11 months

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GENSHIN MEN AS ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE.

— PAIRINGS ; ayato, childe, itto & xiao x gn!reader (separate)

— CONTENT ; genshin's quests spoilers ahead (i don't really said them as spoilers but just a little heads-up, especially for those who are new to genshinblr) and slight mentions of blood in childe's.

— NOTES ; reposted from my old blog!

nobleman!ayato x commoner!reader

the kamisato head clan was your least favourite person of all time. this unsure, yet negative feeling you had on him all started since an eight years old AYATO did a prank on your younger self.

a long time had passed by, but since then, ayato seemed to find the joy in stirring your commoner life, until the name ayato engraved at the back of your mind with such revenge and hatred.

it went on and on like this, until one day, he heard the shogunate was going to enforce the vision hunt decree all around inazuma. he had no choice but to obey. after all, he needed to maintain his title as one of the heads in tenryou commission, yet all he thought was you, your stupid smile, and your vision.

he knew he had to do something about it.

“come here,” the moment ayato’s voice called you out, you rolled your eyes. you ignored him, spun and tried to blend in with the crowds, knowing too well that he couldn’t get you in public appearances.

but ayato was faster. all he did was pulling you aside, hidden from prying eyes. “do you have your vision?”

you scoffed, maybe too rude for someone as noble as him, but you did not really care when it was ayato who was right in front of you. “why? you are going to confisticate it? under the behalf of the shogun?”

your choosing of words should’ve made him baffled, or amused, but instead, he didn’t have the time for your nonsense and your attitude. “give me your vision,” his voice asserted command and it honestly intimidated you. “you really want it? no, not with your own hands, kamisato.”

ayato’s grip on your wrist tightened. you didn’t get why he was so stubborn with this, or even wanted to do this, but still, the desperation in his eyes was evident. “give it to me, now,” his tone went cold, and his low tone—almost like a growl—came out from him, frustrated and it left you in a confused yet startled state.

“i’ll take care of your vision, it is much safer with me.”

“ayato?” your voice sounded small, and you were left speechless with his actions. did he really go all this length just to protect your vision?

but... why?

he looked down on you, slowly pulling the vision away, and you nodded, and that was all it took for ayato to have your own consent. “take care, little one. i am hoping that you don’t go around making a fuss with the shogunate.”

you didn’t know why you believe him in the first place, but you did.

and now, your vision was in the hand of your worst enemy, yet he saved you from many unfortunate occasions under the decree.

fatui harbinger!childe x adventurer!reader

CHILDE was a cheerful and an easygoing person. one look at him and everyone instantly knew, that this man, was someone who didn’t take things too seriously.

that was, until your name came out.

both you and him, or maybe all of the people around you, knew that you hated childe with all your heart, and vice versa.

picking up occasional fights with him was normal. belittling each other in combats and talking big about who was better were your daily routine, yet him being like this was certainly out of the norm.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you frowned, retracting your body away from his hold. however, childe was stronger, and there was no point of you trying to fight his strength.

“who did this to you?” he boldly looked up and down at your whole dirty, and bloodied clothes, gently touching all cuts and bruises—in contrast with him forcefully made you sat down in front of him prior to whatever this was.

“why do you even care?” you pulled away for the tenth times from his touch. a foreign feeling bubbling inside your chest, and childe’s gaze was filled with rage, and you were stunned with his face.

“because you are someone i care about.”

you mentally cursed at your damned heart for skipping a beat at that, but childe seemed oblivious with his previous words. all you saw was the ginger in front of you slightly shook and his eyes burned when he saw your injuries.

he truthfully worried, what ifs questions were running around inside his mind, and all he could think of was his subordinates, the fatui.

he knew that they didn’t like him, and he knew that they purposefully injured you, you had been there once, and it was because of him.

sure, you didn’t look like you were hurting, or weak—you were strong, he knew that—but he couldn’t contain himself when he saw how awful you came back from outside of the city.

demon!itto x human!reader

ITTO was a cocky being.—

that was among infinite traits you didn’t like about him.

that sly smirk you had been aching to wipe off of his face. how he practically flaunting his muscles everywhere with no shame. yes, you slightly cringed at the sights but that couldn’t compare with how full he was of himself.

and by gods, he didn’t even give you a time alone. whenever you went, he would be following you behind with his narcissistic side, saying that he would protect you or something along the line of, “don’t worry, this is the one and oni, arataki itto, will protect you.”

no matter how many times you ignored him, that much would be a payback of how clingy he was towards you afterwards.

such a childish act for a huge guy.

“y/n!“ if you could do it sooner, you would’ve shut his loud mouth with a tape, because oh my god, he was loud as hell, and you were getting tired of keeping up with his random bursts of energy.

they said that you shouldn’t be around an oni for too long, but itto seemed harmless. too human although he was a half-demon that was supposedly be feared.

“what is it?” a heavy sigh passed your lips. you just wanted to go out for a morning walk, nothing more and nothing less, and what a wonderful way for you to start your day, you thought.

“just want to greet my favourite person,” he gave you a hug, tone too happy for someone who had just been whining about how he lost in a duel. his face slightly rubbed beside yours and you swiftly ducked your head, ultimately freeing your body from the figure who was too close in your opinion.

“aww,” he slightly whined. you didn’t understand his mood, so you were frankly, straight to the point. “what do you want, itto? you usually want to cut my head off, but today you’re acting like a baby.”

“hey! if you’re shorter than me, you are definitely a child. no room for argument,” he huffed. yep, definitely too whiny for a guy who could’ve break you with a single punch.

“although i badly want to duel with you, since, you know, i uh.. lost yesterday, but isn’t today’s your birthday?”

“and?”

“come on, now. you’re no fun,” he pulled his arms into his chest. “that is why i would like to make your dull life much more brighter,” he faked a cough. “happy birthday—

"yeah, cut it off, arataki itto.”

adeptus!xiao x human!reader

how did someone could be hating on social interactions so much?

that was the first question you only had, and it was for a specific adeptus.

XIAO was too lonely, and when he always shrugged you off, you decided that you didn’t like that side of his.

what was the point in protecting liyue but having a solitude life? did he really feel that bothered by having someone talking with him?

your numerous questions were answered when verr told you his backstory, and maybe you were being dramatic, but his reason was so heartbreaking for you to hear.

“don’t,” xiao’s hard tone warned, because you stared at him too much until he couldn’t bear to see your eyes. he knew that you figured out one thing or two about him, and he didn’t like the fact that there was guilt everywhere inside you. “i do not need your mortal pity.”

you almost cried when you remembered his karmic debt, because all this time, you treated him so bad, and now you were weighing with continuous guilt, guilt and guilt.

“xiao,” you finally, finally voiced out after long session of looking at the adeptus. his green spear in his hand, that mask beside his waist. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t, it’s useless,” xiao wondered how you suddenly became like this. usually, you would bicker with him, saying that he needed communications and daily conversations in his life but today, of all day, where he felt so heavy with karma, you decided to soften your heart and looking at him with such sympathy.

he truly hated that look you had been giving to him for hours now.

he knew you knew, your eyes told him everything.

you felt like comforting him, but you didn’t know how. it was weird when all you did was fighting with him, babbling about all the things surrounded him and then suddenly, you wanted to put him at ease.

so you decided to let the day passed by, silently enjoying the sky view from the rooftop of wangshu inn. no words were told to him, and he, for the first time, appreciated your treatment.

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year

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One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.

Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.

Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.

However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.

I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.

Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.

It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.

#anger #rage #anger issues #cptsd #abused child #abuse symptoms #trauma symptoms #repressed anger #processing anger #anger builds boundaries #ptsd #traumatic anger #internalized anger #anger directed at self #not being allowed to bring angry creates self hatred #self love #abuse recovery #trauma recovery

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

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How 'bout I stay here and you fight?

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Let me start off by saying I'm sooo sorry for the time it took me to update this, I know that it's been quite a gap since the last upload. Hopefully the wait was worth it though, because I have written about 30 pages for you here, so there's lots to sink your teeth into! As always, thanks for all your support and interaction and all the questions you have about the series, having everyone's lovely messages and art means a lot 💕 knowing I have this community to come back to while I stress out about life stuff is amazing, so thanks for being there! Enjoy the next update ☺️

Part 8 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

“Ghost before you-”

“Before I what, Sneak?” Ghost spat, shaking with the effort it took to contain himself. “Before I tell Price? Before I jump to conclusions? What? You gonna try and tell me those aren’t what I think they are? Are you going to keep lying to me? Well go on then, tell me what you think I want to hear, Sneak. It’s what you’ve been doing this whole time isn’t it! You selfish little lying fuck.”

“No! I never wanted to lie to you Ghost, I just-”

“You never wanted to lie to me? Yet, you let me believe that König had screwed you over that day in the gym. Mustn't have been some cheap lay by the looks of things, that must have been you that clawed up his back like that! And to think all this time, I thought better of you,” he snorted, pounding the wall next to you with his gloved palm. “You made us look like idiots running around after you, trying to make you feel better all this time! You’ve had us all concerned about you while you’ve been fucking that cunt behind our backs!”

You whimpered and shrunk into the cold plaster at your back, distantly feeling like you were lying on a slab at a morgue. Everything in you said that it wasn’t long until you were going to be meeting your end. Ghost was wide eyed and loud as a lion as he tore into you, now slapping both his hands on the wall and sandwiching you firmly between him and it. You gulped and clenched your fists, trying to swallow the burning feeling that crept up your throat like a trail of gasoline. Everything was falling apart and you couldn't even see the pieces through the wreckage to try and save them.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen…it just happened that way. You assumed that König had slept around - I didn’t say it - I just didn't correct you. I couldn’t correct you!”

“Do you think that helps? Do you think it’s better knowing that you took advantage of my trust - in all of the 141’s trust? Do you know how much it hurts to realise that someone that you thought you could count on could be capable of deceiving you for months? That someone that you treat like family apparently doesn’t give a shit and would throw you away for a bit of Austrian Muscle? He’s barely even a person under all that fight and armour, he’s a fucking monster, Sneak, and yet you’ve left us for him!”

You clenched your teeth and rubbed the tears from your cheeks, furiously shaking even though you tried to resist. Ghost knew he had you overwhelmed. He was taking full advantage of your upset, taking his revenge on you now and tearing you down. After all those months you spent running ahead of him, keeping on top of all your lies, you’d really thought that you might manage to get away with it all. Not anymore. Your feet were knocked from under you now.

“I- It- It wasn’t like that!” You protested, choking on your words.

“How wasn’t it?” Ghost roared.

“Because he’s not a monster! We care for each other, he- he cares for me, Ghost.”

“Oh, clearly! You’d have to, it has to be worth it, doesn’t it? You’ve made your choice haven’t you? You’ve gambled your place in the 141 all these months and now your chickens have come home to roost. You think you broke our trust by going against my order that day on the field? How do you think this elaborate fucking lie is going to look to Price? It’s going to ruin you, Sneak.You’re going to break up the team!”

“You mean- you, and Pr- Price is going to kick me out?”

“Who knows what the fuck he’ll do! All I know for fact is that this is going to shake the trust of everyone here. It sure as shit rocked my faith in you, who knows what the others will think when they hear about this. Doesn’t make sense to keep someone around that’s capable of going behind our backs like this.”

A boulder settled in your stomach then. Ghost’s voice had dropped severely low, his angry snarling dying down to a quiet threat. His eyes were narrowed and staring at you with a deadly precision, betraying the scene that surely played in his head - the one where he strangled you for making such an idiot out of him.

“Ghost, please,” you whimpered, closing your eyes. “I didn’t want things to be this way. I had every intention of staying away, but it’s just…Well…I couldn’t give up on König, I care about the team and I love you all like brothers, but that doesn’t mean I could just abandon König and all the feelings I had for him. I just… I just thought that I could have both.”

You felt like an idiot saying it out loud.

In that moment a haunting realisation overtook you, the minute you opened your eyes and saw Ghost’s almost hollow mask sockets staring back at you through the gloom, you knew something. You’d made your choice all those months ago. You’d chosen König. That’s how everyone would see it anyway, they’d never understand how much you wished you could be a part of both worlds.

You knew Ghost could see exactly what you were thinking. He snorted as all the features in your face drooped, backing away from you. You sniffed and pushed yourself off the wall, barely keeping yourself from stumbling as you chased after him.

“Ghost, wait!”

He chuckled, his throat emitting a dark and choppy sound, one you hadn’t heard before. You shivered and tried to catch up with him, boots slapping hard and fast against the floor as you attempted to match his furious pace.

“Ghost, please, you can’t tell Price yet!”

“And why’s that, Sneak? You want a little accomplice in this, hm? You want someone else to go against Price just to make you feel better? The 141 isn’t a fuckin’ joke, even if you want to treat it that way.”

“I’m not asking you to lie!” you cried out, finally skidding to a stop in front of Ghost. “I’m asking you to wait.”

“Why would I do that?” he scoffed.

“Because we have a job to do,” you said, steeling yourself as much as you could even while tears still ran hot as acid down your cheeks and over your jaw.

“Oh, so now you care about doing your job, huh?”

“I care about you all, I care about the team, I care about this job more than anyone could ever know. Even though I fucked up…even though what I’ve done says otherwise, I do care. That’s why I’m asking you just to hold onto this until the job’s finished. I know exactly how this will go down Ghost, I know everyone will say the same as you have. Do you think this is what the team needs right before going away?”

You sighed and rubbed a palm over your sweating forehead, running your fingers over the wet strands of your hair. You’d been caught dead centre in your web of lies, the least you could do is untangle it with a sense of grace. Let your ruin come at the end of your last mission, let Price handle it all with a clear head, it was the least you could do. You had to make him see that.

“You can’t afford to lose anyone before you go after, Rousseau,” you continued, “Not the night before we leave. Just let me help you with this and then I’ll go to Price myself after all this is through. Just let me try to make things right and then…and then if- if Price wants to kick me out he can. I accept that…just let me help.”

Ghost halted in his tracks and balled his fists, kinetic energy fizzling away as he seemed to consider swinging them. You winced already, scrunching your eyes as you prepared for him to send you flying, but the hit never came. He opted for rolling his shoulders back instead and he paused on your words. For a moment, you worried he might reconsider and give you that well deserved blow, you weren’t completely relaxing yet. Tension sizzled through you both like a bomb fuse.

Deep down though, you knew he wouldn’t follow through on any of the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. Simmering in the burn of his gaze was a man that was deeply hurt. Even though you were probably one of the lowest life forms in his eyes at that moment, you were still family and he would never punish you like that. Even if he would willingly watch you go into exile.

“You’re telling me you feel fit to operate right now?” he asked, his words coming out with careful measure.

“There’s no other choice. I have to be,” you said with a bitter laugh, feeling like if you continued anymore, you might go hysterical. “All I know is that if we bring this to Price now, it puts the whole mission at risk and becomes a distraction. I accept that I fucked up, and that you probably can barely stand the sight of me, I do. For the sake of a mission though…don’t you think that we should get through this and let the team deal with it after? The last thing anyone needs is this. Please Ghost, you know I’m right. Even if this is the mission I go down on, at least let me do it without putting the others at risk because of what I’ve done.”

Ghost grunted and looked away from you, letting his body sag as he weighed your words. You’d gotten through to him, you’d delayed the inevitable. You knew it. You just needed him to say it.

You wished that he’d just tell you he’d let it go completely. For a hopeful second you wondered if maybe some time would stop him wanting to let Price know at all. Though that was never going to happen - if not for the fact that he was hurt from being lied to, then it would be the complete destruction of his faith in you.

Why couldn’t you have just listened to Ghost from the start? Why had you hurt him like this?

It was all getting too much to carry. Your heart thumped slowly and filled with lead and oil, thickening the blood in your veins like tar. Your whole body felt wrong, your lungs were gasping just to get by. Your head was spinning as it tried to process all that had happened, rattling with the drum beat of your pulse. It took every ounce of energy you had left just to stay upright, feeling like you might start swaying as you lingered in Ghost's heavy shadow.

“Alright,” he said eventually, voice gruff and distant. “Fine.”

You swallowed thickly and risked eye contact with him. That only served to reignite his anger though, the shadows in the hallway seemingly shivering around him as he loomed over you again.

“I won’t tell Price yet, but I’m warning you - you wait a single moment to tell him when we get back from this, then I’ll find that dopey Austrian cunt, and I’ll string him up and make you watch as what little light he has in him leaves his miserable fucking corpse. Do I make myself clear?”

You froze before nodding stiffly, body jerking as he shoved past you.

“Clear,” you whispered, talking to no one as you were left alone in the empty grey corridor.

-☠️-

You confined yourself to the darkness that night. You were alone in your room, curling your hands around your knees in bed with the lights off, heavily breathing like some kind of demented horror movie creature. The Only thing that haunted you though was your mind.

There was no getting away from it, no sharing the load with anyone else, who was there to tell? It was just you and your horrible thoughts, locked up tight together with no respite from any voices of reason. It wasn’t like you could tell the others.

König had tried to message you, but you couldn’t face him. You just messaged something quick back, reading only a couple lines of what he’d sent you first. You couldn’t talk to him either. There was no way he could know about what Ghost knew or otherwise you’d be kicking off the fight of the century.

Even with the complete lack of light in that tiny space, you still continued to see the bright whites of Ghost’s mask in front of your face. His hard blue eyes were burning holes into you like the pits of hell. It had your heart racing. Your skin felt too hot, your lungs burned with effort, feeling like they would burst with your heart ramming into them. Nothing could calm you down.

Knock.

You froze in your place, back stiffening somehow even further against the corner you’d shoved yourself into. You weren’t expecting company. Part of your mind wondered if Ghost had given in and told Price. Though as you thought on it for a few more seconds you knew in your heart of hearts that the moment, if Price knew about your relationship he sure as fuck wouldn’t come quietly knocking on your door. The sound was too soft, like someone that was trying to be discreet.

Only one person that could be - surely.

You padded over to the door and took a breath, holding the cold handle in your palm for a moment and letting it recenter you. If it was who you suspected it was, you couldn’t let him know that you’d been found out. He couldn’t get mad at Ghost and give you away. He couldn’t have the stress of your relationship reveal running through his mind while you were in an active warzone. If something were to happen to König because of your stupidity, then Price finding out about you both would be the least of your worries.

Why had you chosen the path that had put everyone you love into such a horrible position? Why had you lied so much to them all?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a second, only just opening the door as a tall figure had begun to retreat in the darkness. You watched as the giant stopped in his tracks and then you smiled softly when he walked back to you. The red tears of his mask were the first things to reveal themselves as he stepped into the flickering light that buzzed by your door.

“Did I wake you?” König asked, honey thick voice coming in at a low whisper.

“No,” you sighed, gesturing for him to come in, “couldn’t sleep. How come you’re here? You haven’t messaged.”

“I couldn’t sleep either. I wanted to see you before we left - see you alone,” he answered, stepping into your doorway. “And i did message, you messaged me back - remember? You were a little blunt with me, so I got worried.”

Oh.

You shut the door behind him and watched as he walked confidently past you and over to the lamp by your bed. He’d only been in your room a couple of times, despite your insistence he shouldn't risk showing up. Though even those stolen moments were enough for him to remember the layout as if the room were his own.

He flicked the switch on your lamp that sat on your bedside table and looked back up at you then. He was bathed in warm yellow light like an angel that had been sent to soothe your troubled head. Even his eyes seemed to melt through the edge that had settled over you.

“You don’t look very good, darling,” he noted, frowning over at you. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

He tilted his head at you and with that, seemed to remember he was still wearing his mask. His eyes had grown wide like pale blue whirlpools. With fumbling hands, König tugged the fabric over his head and got himself out of the draped material, his tired face was revealed. His hair blew around before it settled into a messy nest on top of his head and his dark eyes refocused on you once he’d been freed from the hood. They were baggy with exhaustion.

You knew that feeling well. Not that you could tell him the real reason why.

“Hm?” he hummed, walking towards you now. “What’s got you so upset?”

You shook your head and tried to smile at him, accepting the hug that he wrapped you into with a sigh of relief. You didn’t have a good answer for him. Instead you pressed your head into his chest and inhaled his scent, taking in hints of gunfire and metal that his mask had left behind and, of course, the faint notes of your berry tea - betraying his thievery.

“Have you been stealing my tea again, mister?” you asked, trying to distract him.

“Me? Stealing from you? Never,” he chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body and soaking through to yours.

“More like all the time!” you grinned, finally chancing a look up at him again.

“Well really, you only have yourself to blame,” he said, stroking his thumb across your chin. “You should never have got me hooked on it if you didn’t want me to indulge myself every once in a while.”

“Mmm…Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.”’

You shook your head at him and tapped him on the arm, prompting him to release you. He let you go, but followed immediately behind you when you went to sit on the bed. He took little time in swiftly drawing you back into his hold once again, nestling you both into the wrinkled sheets on your sad little bed, adjusting himself into your extra cushions.

His presence might have been making you feel uneasy, the pressure to not tell him anything growing with each passing second. However it was undeniable that the weight around your body was helping you, scattering your worries the tighter he held you.

“Are you going to tell me?” König pressed.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what,” he said dryly.

You huffed out a sigh. He wasn’t going to let it go though, he repositioned you then and made you face him, keeping you pinned and lying on your side.

“I know that the reason you smell of berries is because you don’t lift your mask all the way when you drink my tea. Then it gets damp and rubs off onto your shirt,” you said softly, smiling to yourself as you thought of him guiltily sneaking cups of it.

He looked down at you pointedly and rolled his eyes. Ok, so he wasn’t going to let it go then. You stared back at him for a moment before you lay back against his chest and proceeded to close your eyes, reaching out into the beyond to try and think of something to say. Anything other than the truth behind your insomnia.

“I’m worried about this op,” you whispered quietly. “And what comes after.”

“What? Why?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you tighter. “Why on earth would you be worried?”

“There’s a lot riding on it. It’ll be dangerous too, more than any of the other missions we’ve been on,” you shrugged. “Then there’s the unknowns that’ll come after it as well.”

“You know what will come after it,” König said, a smile weaving itself into his voice. “We will go to Austria together and I will take you on many adventures and buy you lots of good food, real food.”

You laughed a little at what he said and relaxed against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart thudding away behind your head, working away, strong as ever. Maybe the world wasn’t going to completely end, you thought distantly to yourself, maybe even if you didn’t have the 141 you could still make the best of things. Hell, maybe you could move to Austria.

In choosing König, you weren’t going to be alone after you were kicked out. You would still have him. It didn’t lift the burden that was sinking your heart any, but it sought to bring some light back into your mind. The thought of mountain trails and mornings waking up to his gentle kisses and calloused hands trailing their way down your back weren’t so bad, maybe there was something even a little enticing about those thoughts...

Your life would be in tatters, sure, but it would still be worth living. There would still be some happiness, even if you were down the love of four family members… Even if you never got to speak to them again.

“I am looking forward to our trip, that’s for sure,” you replied measuredly. “I just…I mean- I guess I don’t know what things will be like after all this is over. We’ve been working together through this mission through our whole relationship and now that it’s coming to an end… I dunno - I guess I’m just intimidated by all the unknowns.”

You felt ok saying that. It wasn’t completely false. In reality you were far more worried about the situations you knew you’d face rather than the ones that were unknown, but ultimately Price being told about your relationship was still a mystery in terms of punishment.

You had no idea what he might decide to do with you once he’d found out about your betrayal. For all you were aware he could’ve been planning to send you off to one of the worst deployments that you’d ever known in your life. What then?

“You always worry so much” König sighed, tracing his hand up your body so that he could stroke the side of your face. “Know that whatever we both do next…no matter what…you will have all of my heart, and I will do anything to make sure that you get to hold it in your arms whenever possible…because I love you.”

You froze in place, eyes going wide as you processed what he said. He had spoken the unspoken, he had finally put into words the feelings that you knew were there, but both of you had been too guarded to let slip. He was telling you that he loved you, giving you a gift while you lied straight to his face.

“I love you and I will do anything to make this work. I’d dig a hole through to the otherside of the world just to be with you, there’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your cheek.

You let a little breath of silence hang in the air for a moment and bit your lip, feeling a tear track its way down your face while you battled with your throat to stay silent. You couldn’t let him know what you were actually upset about.

You loved him too after all.

And for that reason you couldn't reveal the truth that Ghost had uncovered, it would send him spiralling. Would compromise him and mission. You could put him in danger, more so than you had already by involving Ghost - and soon Price’s - wrath.

“I love you too, König…” you murmured. “I love you so much.”

He let out a breath at your admission, you felt it whistling past your neck. You shivered, and tried not to think too hard on what would happen when he found out you’d withheld the truth from him that night.

“I love you so much, in fact, that I’m looking past the fact that you chose the night before a huge operation to tell me that,” you said with a laugh, trying to distract yourself from the demon’s in your head.

He laughed too. You both relaxed into the vibrations of each other's bodies and then lay quietly for a moment, staring up at the old scuffed ceiling above.

Though you couldn’t linger there for long. You pushed your way out of his almost iron grip and rolled around, propping your head up so that you could see his face. You were surprised to see the look of consternation that greeted you. It was like looking into a mirror. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down and his lips were pursed, the pink line of his scar stretching taught as he thought deeply on something.

“Well, seeing as you love me too… Would you offer me some assurance?”

You reached over to him and cupped his jaw in your hands, adjusting his face so that he’d meet your gaze. You searched his eyes for a moment and suddenly something clicked in the place as you were finally broken out of your wallowing.

“Assurance for whatever it was that you couldn’t sleep over?” you guessed.

He nodded, the scratch of his stubble sharply rubbing against your palm. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek and he leaned into your touch, somehow looking younger and smaller than he usually did.

“Things will be intense tomorrow…I will be breaching rooms with countless unknown men that will be shooting at us, and I’ll be having to make quick decisions - act on instinct. Whatever you see tomorrow, know that I love you and that I wish you didn’t have to witness any of it. In another life, I’d spare you from ever having to even know about it. I just need to know, that after we come back, no matter what you see, that you won’t run from me. As much as I’ve tried to protect myself, I know that that’s all over now. I know now there’s no way to save myself from the hurt, the same way I couldn’t protect myself from anyone else I’ve ever loved in my life. I just want to know that you’ll give me a chance to explain myself if you see something that you don’t like again… that you won’t leave me.”

Oh König…

You felt the remainder of your tears threaten to spill over and flood your sheets, but you held them back and closed your eyes instead, thinking for a moment. You hadn’t reacted well the last time you’d heard him at work. How would you react if you were to see him in action now?

You shuddered at the thought, but let it pass quickly. At the end of the day, you were all going there to reap an unspeakable violence to a group of people that had committed atrocities in return. There were no pure intentions and there were no good players between any of you. There was only putting an end to a group that threatened to kill innocents. If König was going to be at the head of the speartip, then he had to be damn sharp. You couldn’t have him ineffective with worry over what you might think.

Couldn’t put him at risk.

“König, I promise that whatever I see…whatever I think or feel in the moment…I won’t shut you out. We can talk about it all when we get home again. But whatever you do, don’t put yourself in harm's way trying to protect my feelings. We’ll make it through this together, no matter what, ok?”

He smiled at you, a twinkle returning to his sapphire irises. He turned and kissed your hand, you still held his head, and you both closed your eyes for a moment, revelling in the private moment between yourselves.

“Ok,” he finally replied. “I feel like I can sleep now. Why don’t you try to get some rest as well? See if you can shut off that busy mind of yours.”

You both settled into a silence after that, letting yourselves relax into the calm. At some point you turned back around and a little while later, König switched off your lamp. In the back of your mind you worried that you’d be discovered come morning time, but König assuaged your fears before you could air them and whispered to you, tickling your ear as he told you that he’d set an early alarm.

“I love you, König,” you whispered, your half smile lost to the night.

It felt like something to giggle over, like a secret between school children. You could barely contain your smile.

“I love you too,” König replied, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll love you always.”

-☠️-

König had stayed true to his word and had left while the sky remained dark, shutting off his near silent alarm on the second ring and scurrying out quietly before anyone would be any the wiser. Anyone that didn’t already know anything anyway.

It felt like Ghost had almost sold you out the moment that you’d stepped foot onto the transport. The sound of your boots nervously clanging against the metal ramp drew his attention, and all at once his conversation with the Captain ceased and he fixed his eyes on you with a glare.

It was enough to freeze you into place, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until he released his mental hold over you. You Clutched furiously onto the handle of your backpack, hoping like hell that it wouldn’t shake too badly.

For a few painful seconds you were stuck still, though just as you thought that Ghost might say something after all, he turned away again and blanked you completely. Price gave him a frown and said something low under his breath, but whatever it was Ghost shook his head and carried on with what they were discussing before.

It was like some kind of twisted game of red light/green light. If that’s the way he’s going to play things this’ll be a hell of a way to go out, you thought to yourself. That is if you even made it out of the mission.

You were supposed to be on Ghost’s team, and at that point you weren’t completely convinced that he would bother too much to look out for you anymore. No, now it was just you and Horangi, and as much as König seemed to get on with him, you and he had never exchanged more than a couple of words to each other.

Would Soap and Gaz offer swapsies?

You shook your head at the thought of Gaz ever going off plan, especially one that Price had approved. No, instead of hoping for better, you faced reality and took a seat far away from Ghost, throwing your stuff down for what felt like the last time. You sank down on your cracking knees, settling next to your bulging bag and holding it like a plush toy. The squishy material was solid under your grasp and made a great pillow for you to rest your head on. It was enough to lull you into a sense of security, enough to make you close your eyes.

“Sneak!”

Your head shot up and you lost your breath, staring wide eyed into the direction that you’d heard the voice come from. Was it Ghost? Was he going to reveal everything just to spite you now that you were getting comfortable?

No. Soap looked down at you instead, shooting you a grin as he saw how much you’d shit yourself at his shout. Stupid bastard. You hit out at his leg and huffed when he sat down next to you, feeling like his loud obnoxious voice in your ear was just about the last thing you needed.

And just to sour your mood more, just to make matters all the better, he shoved your shoulder and almost sent you keeling over and tumbling over to Ghost and Price. As if Ghost needed another reason to want to get back at you.

You threw your hands out and pushed yourself up, attempting to shove him almost twice as hard back. He’d dodged at the last second and had you wheeling forward this time, though at the very least you had your bag to fall onto instead of Ghost this time.

“What the fuck are you being so childish for?” you grumbled, recovering and rubbing the sore spot where he’d shoved you.

“Ooft, someone’s grumpy, eh?” Soap tittered, smile never leaving his face. “Did you not get much rest last night?”

You grunted and folded your arms, staring straight ahead like you might melt the plane’s walls.

“The fuck does it matter to you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then - as usual.”

Soap raised his brows, challenging you to defend yourself. Normally you’d probably shove him again or throw a verbal barb at him, but that day you were in no mood to play. Especially not when the truth was going to come out sooner rather than later, and you weren’t convinced you were going to be on joking terms anymore.

No, it wouldn’t be long until he knew about you and König, and your mind was already filled with the sight of his angry frown setting itself upon you. It was better that you didn’t make it all worse by pretending everything was fine, you reasoned, so that being the case you ignored him and planted your head back down on your bag.

“Crabbit little twat,” Soap snorted. “Better find your sense of humour before you wake up again. And if you’re gonna be in a mood with me, then you can forget sleepin’ and drooling all over me too!”

You grunted in response, and gave him nothing else. You were too sick with worry to respond properly, even despite the ache that developed as you realised that that might be one of your last ‘friendly’ interactions with him. The weight in your heart increased tenfold, feeling as if it were a sand timer growing heavier by the minute. Better not to think about it. Better to shut it all out, to shut down.

Unsurprisingly your mood wasn’t lifted by the sleep you caught up on. It only served to keep you from agonising about your situation until the plane slammed down onto the dodgy countryside landing strip. That shocked you back to life again. From then on, until you reached the safe house, your mood remained sour and kept the others from bothering you much.

When you got there, of course, you had to buck up and try to act normal. You couldn’t have the others picking anything up, couldn’t let them think you were anything else except tired and grumpy. It wasn’t that far outside the realm of normal, you never slept very well whenever you had to travel away anyway.

When it came time to go over the briefing, you quietly set yourself as far away from Ghost as you could muster and stood around the projector wall, listening to Price’s briefing intently while you locked your arms into a folded position. The light splashed across his face in brief interludes, his weight was shifting from foot to foot as he walked you all through the plan in his booming voice, he was restless. He was right to be.

Price knew that the intelligence that had been gathered was of questionable accuracy - he told you all as much and Laswell confirmed it. She didn’t look that much more confident that him. The men who’d spilled their guts to the interrogators had varying degrees of incentive to reveal the true nature and layout of their base and all of you knew that they were highly fantastical to boot. It didn’t matter how many exercises you’d run through, none of you could’ve really known what was in store for when you raided the warehouse.

You’d looked round the room as he’d talked about that, scoping out the faces of all the men that you were going to fight alongside. Your eyes slowly ran over the 141, König, Horangi, and all those of the other team that Price had assembled to lock down the perimeter. There were hard eyes all around, everyone stayed quiet, listening to the captain until his very last word. Even Laswell had limited interjections, she was just as stone faced as everyone else, letting Price take the lead.

“I want all of you to be at the top of your game. On a mission like this there is zero and I really do mean zero margin for error! You make a mistake on Rousseau’s home turf and you will get yourself or one of your teammates killed. All of you must communicate, I want clear positions and status updates on comms. You will tell me where you are in the warehouse and you will let me know who you come across, is that clear?”

You all responded, an impassioned “yes, sir!” rang throughout the room, ricocheting off of the walls and back into the crowd like a bullet.

“Good,” Price said curtly. “Now, enough talking,we move out in thirty minutes. And remember - Zero margin for error! Clear communication! Don’t get yourselves killed.”

“Yes, sir!”

You all sounded off for the last time and set to work scurrying around, gathering gear and preparing the trucks for departure. You’d be driving out until you reached the edge of the forest and from then on you would be trekking out to the compound, a group of old warehouses that had belonged to a logging company before it had gone out of business years before. You were in for a hard day.

Though as Ghost reminded you, when he icily stared at you from the otherside of the room, the hardship wasn’t going to end at capturing Rousseau. Your problems were only going to multiply from that day on.

You were the first to break eye contact that time, nervously shifting away and grabbing your gear, double checking your ammo and your pockets. You stroked your hands up through the curves and rough textures of your armour and bags and went through your mental checklist, trying to fill your mind with something other than all the swirling thoughts that threatened to compromise you.

“All good, Sneak?”

You snapped your head to your left side, meeting Gaz’s tilted stare.

“All good, Sergeant,” you answered, repacking a few of your rounds.

“Sergeant?” he chuckled.

“Did your rank change while I was asleep?”

“No, but you seemed to,” he shrugged.

“I’m stressed, there’s a lot at stake here,” you said, swallowing down another of your silly lies. “But all that matters is that I’m here right?”

Gaz shook his head as you reminded him of the words he’d said to you months before. Ever since he’d lectured you about letting König distract you, you liked to tease him and call him mini Price, reciting his words back to him without fail. I wanna go out there knowing you’re here with us and not turning yourself into a walking target. You’d do your best Price impression whenever you recounted them.

You didn’t bother this time - not while Price was in the room with you. Gaz rolled his eyes and patted your back, almost turning away to sort his own things before a smile lit his face.

“Well with a good attitude like that I might just keep you around when I get promoted to Captain,” he laughed, walking away before he could see the smile dropping off your face.

Gaz might’ve wanted to keep you around - but would Price?

-☠️-

It was unsurprising, to say the least, that you were going to discover John Rousseau’s last stand wasn’t going to be easy. No. He was intent on going out with a bang.

It had been a difficult breach, you’d lost a couple of the men that Price had sent to crack the warehouse open with you. They’d fallen in the fatal funnel that had been created when the enemy worked out your entry point. Despite the high levels of bloodshed though, König remained mostly unharmed.

You’d tried not to let yourself get distracted by him, but even still, had found your eyes magnetised to him at times, had seen him shooting quickly and forcing enemies close when he needed to, basically folding people in half in an effort to break them. Some of the sounds their bones made still echoed in your ears.

Everything had moved so fast. Your mind had very little bandwidth to process it all. One moment you were on the first floor, desperately trying to locate the stairs and get to Rousseau’s ‘war room’, the next you were deep into the building, continuing to blast through doors with Soap at the head while you, Ghost and Horangi secured the rear.

Gunshots echoed out throughout the hallways, lights flickered and sparked and rained down electrical orange confetti as they were shot from the ceiling and swung out like some kind of deadly assault course. The floor in front of you flashed white and gold and soon you were drowned in darkness. All the lights in the room crashed down into their final resting places.

Ghost was in the room across from you, Horangi was with him too. You’d decided to separate when you’d seen a lone man run into the little office, you were convinced you’d seen someone hauling a massive gun across his back. It was hard to be sure what it was, maybe some type of PKM, but whatever it could have been would do a lot of damage, you knew that much. Though now, as you were left alone in the shadows, it had felt like your mind had played tricks on you.

Your breathing was shallow, and no matter how thick your earbuds were, your ears were still ringing from all the abuse they’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been crammed under an old church bell and someone was hitting it on all sides. There was a lightning storm in your head and a heatwave through your whole body.

Part of you was almost begging to be in the debrief with Price already.

You flicked your night vision down and scoped the room, tracing through the green fog for any signs of enemies. There was nothing obvious. The pulse of your speeding heart thumped away steadily in your ears while the room remained deathly still. Where the fuck are you?

Something flashed out of the corners of your eyes and before you could even turn to see it, you were being overwhelmingly set upon. You stepped backward and leveraged your weight, getting yourself in a good position to strike your assailant and baulked when he stopped you in your tracks and smashed you against the wall.

Ouch.

The air shot out of your lungs, your goggles had skewed over your eyes, but after a few seconds of shock you were thankfully able to dodge the figure from hitting you and shoved them off to your side. With tears in your eyes, and knees screaming out, you got yourself up.

It was fight or die. You picked up your gun, scraping the heavy weapon against the floor, and unloaded it into your attacker, just as he tried to rush you again.

His body collapsed to the floor in a spray of mist and you watched motionlessly as he fell forward and into a lifeless heap at your feet. The gun was like a lead brick in your arms, but still you held it aloft, waiting for anyone else that might try to get the drop on you.

Why’s it so quiet?

“Sneak, what the fuck was that?” Ghost called out. “And where the fuck did you run off to?”

You could hear him distantly through in the other room, but his voice was also straining loud and clear over the busy comms, you knew your reply would be too. All of you had been running around for a lot longer than you would’ve liked. Then again, it was a blessing that you were still up and kicking if anything. There had been so many surprise attacks launched on you, you were lucky to only sport a few bruises for your troubles.

“In the room across from you LT. Took down an enemy, heading back to you now.”

You took one last look around the ruins of the office, and once satisfied there were no more hidden assailants, you walked toward the doorway. After plastering yourself to the wall, you took a look up and down the hall, pivoting out a little just to be sure no one was going to take a lucky shot. All clear. Well, one end of the hallway anyway, the other was completely blocked off by a stack of fallen units and desks.

Probably not a good sign.

Were they directing you?

You crossed the threshold fully and bolted into the next room, locking eyes with Ghost as he perched his foot on a fallen desk chair, it was rattling from his weight. Horangi gave you a nod from Ghost’s side and glanced over to the head of the room, keeping watch over Soap as he set up his charges with no small amount of grumbling. That wasn’t a good sign either.

Your body was getting tired, your back was aching from all the weight you’d been hauling round. The only thing getting lighter was your ammo. You were praying that you were close to the end, hoping that wherever this supposed room was that Rousseau had locked himself into, it was going to reveal itself soon. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“Stay on that door Sneak, make sure no one else goes looking for hiding spots” Ghost directed. “What’s taking so long, Soap?”

You turned and followed Ghost’s order, side eyeing König as he stood over your struggling teammates, dwarfing Gaz and Soap under his watchful stance. He was breathing heavily, you could see the dramatic rise and fall of his hood giving away his fatigue. Other than that though, you were relieved to see that he was still unhurt.

Focus!

You snapped your attention to the hallway again and ignored your boyfriend, pulling your thoughts away from him completely. It had been a long time since you’d been on a mission with König and you were unused to the amount of space he took up. He was clouding your thoughts, sending your brain churning out worry like a spitting volcano as he kept charging through doorways and getting up close and personal with men as if he were indestructible.

You shook your head and cast your eyes through the shadows, watching out for movement. You couldn’t linger over König any longer.

Soon you realised that there wasn’t any noise. It wasn’t right. Things never went the way you’d trained for almost one hundred percent of the time, but it was strange that there hadn’t been more men around. You’d encountered most of the men on the way in and now that you were further into the heart of the building they were sprouting up in numbers few and far between. That combined with the fact the building felt strategically blocked off in areas was all just one big red flag, waving and buffeting like a sail in the breeze.

“LT, there’s explosives already set here,” Soap shouted. “I couldn’t be sure before…but they've hidden them in the door casing. Powerful stuff by the looks of it too. If we try to get through this we could end up blasting ourselves to the moon by the looks of it.”

You whipped your head around and back to the group at the door, watching as they all stepped back. All at once everyone's heads snapped to Ghost and he frowned deeply enough that it could be seen through his eyeblack.

“Price, did you get that?” Ghost asked, speaking clearly for the comms.

“Copy,” Price said, his voice crackling through all of your headsets. “Can you find an alternative route ahead?”

“Not on this floor,” Ghost responded. “This is the only way up.”

“Fuck!”

You winced at Price’s outburst and bit your lip. Should you speak?

Fuck it.

“There haven’t been a lot of men compared to what we expected either,” you noted. “Anyone else get the feeling we’ve been set up?”

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought, Gaz nodded your way, König looked like he wanted to scratch his way out of the walls and take you with him, Ghost narrowed his eyes. Was he annoyed you’d stated the obvious? You frowned over at him, but he moved shortly after that, sidling up to the window and taking a cautious peak outside. His back visibly stiffened as he caught a glimpse of something.

“Price, there’s a truck heading out the gates to the south side. Do you see it?”

“We’re tracking it now. Ghost, take both of the teams out of the warehouse, whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. Meet us back at the extraction point, copy?”

“Copy, Captain.”

Ghost motioned his head in the direction of the doorway you were still guarding and while the others filed toward you, you stayed in place. You had to ensure no one would surprise them while they stepped out of the room. Ghost passed you and patted your shoulder, his touch like a lightning shock to your system.

As much of a professional as he was, you hadn't expected him to be at a point where he was making an effort to praise you. A warmth spread over your chest then.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself get too carried away. You put it to the back of your mind and followed up the rear of your group, looking around as you passed through the hallways of fallen men. Bodies littered the floors and by then most of the hallways were dark and devoid of any lighting. The green haze of your night vision goggles continued to wave unsettlingly and the crunch of debris was ever present under your boots.

“We need to move slowly and quietly,” Ghost directed, heading toward the front of your group. “If the bastards have set up bombs there’s no telling what way they were trying to direct us and what happens if another one of them catches us alive. Any one of them could have a detonator, and we know from previous encounters they’re not shy about martyring themselves for the cause.”

Your heart rate picked up, but still you kept marching ahead. The group moved forward like a little troupe of ants, following your masked leader to what you hoped was safety. Each skittering stray piece of furniture under your feet had you jumping, every breath you took was like a gust of wind. Even with your ears ringing it felt like every bit of muffled noise was coming through like the beginnings of a dance anthem.

Knowing that someone with the power to blow the whole building on you might jump out at any second wasn’t great for your weakening composure. That wouldn’t stop you though. Your group powered on down the halls until you reached the lower stairway, and each of you took every step with care, pointing your weapons in different directions just to be sure that every angle was covered.

With your gun pointed down, you were able to see that there was activity on the bottom floor, you could see people moving down below. You tapped Soap on the shoulder and pointed them out, allowing him to pass on the message until it carried on through the line and down to Ghost. All of you stopped moving then and watched the little group, stuck in silence while they propped open a piece of wood that had been covering a doorway in the stairs.

Ghost extended his arm and gave you all a series of clear hand signals, watching down the line to make sure you all read him clearly. Stay silent. Stay on me. We’re following them.

There was more pressure than ever to make sure that your steps were soundless. Your heartbeat was in your ears and your body was buzzing with how tightly your muscles were wound. Every step took you closer to the bottom and to the hatch, every successful movement gave you hope that you wouldn’t be found out.

When your group reached the bottom, you were able to see that the men had replaced the sheet of wood and old construction PVC to try and hide the secret exit. Clearly that hadn’t been meant for your eyes. Perhaps it was lucky that you’d come to the stairway at the right time - it was hard to say, maybe they’d meant for exactly that to happen.

Ghost looked to König and together, without having to communicate, they shifted the board and König took position at the front. As always, he was first to breach.

All of you crept into the blown out entryway and were surprised to find a tunnel at your feet, complete with a very haphazard ladder built down into it. Aside from that, the little room you were in was empty. König replaced the piece of wood over the door once everyone was inside and soon you were surrounded in complete shadow, staring around at the others through the green hues.

“Price, we’ve found a tunnel under the stairway of the building. What do you want us to do?” Ghost enquired, keeping an eye on the tunnel to make sure no one down below indicated that they’d heard him.

The comms were quiet, nothing but the ghostly whisper of static crumbling away at your ears. All of you eyed each other, stares hard enough to the cut the air between you all. The little room was getting hot with all of your bodies filling it, each breath getting harder to take.

“Price, come in,” Ghost demanded. “Laswell? Anyone?”

Nothing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Soap breathed.

You pursed your lips and kept your stare fixed on Ghost. His eyes were jumping between you all like he was deciding on his lunchtime football team. He took a moment to think, trying to bring clarity into the stuffy room, he was probably waiting for Price to come back in too, but nevertheless the line remained dead.

“Right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. More than likely this entire building is rigged to blow, we need to get out, but more than likely this tunnel is a sign that Rousseau must be here. He would never have left all his men behind, he likes to make a show of being on base and ‘protecting’ and taking control of his men. König, you’re gonna lead Horangi and Gaz through the back entrance at the loading bay and head to the extraction point, find out why command isn’t talking to us. I’m taking Sneak and Soap with me and we’re gonna see what’s down there, see if we can’t dig Rousseau out.”

“What?”

All of you turned your heads as König spoke, the sharpness of his voice coming out muffled through his hood.

“Did you not hear me right?” Ghost asked.

“I heard you clearly, Lieutenant,” König sneered. “But I don’t agree with that course of action. You can’t just go wandering around tunnels with only two people with you, that’s suicide. Price gave his orders before the line went down, he was very clear, therefore we should all be going to the extraction point.”

“This isn’t the time to disagree with me, König.”

“It is if you’re going to get yourself and two of your subordinates killed,” König said, clearly gritting his teeth. “Not to mention you’re abandoning us with god knows how many men waiting outside to stop us from leaving.”

“Nice of you to care about what happens to us,” Ghost remarked, “Then again there’s probably only one person you’re trying to protect here, isn’t there?”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It was like a small fire had broken out in the room and now you had the urge to go beating down the secret entrance and throwing caution to the wind. Was this really going to happen?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” König asked.

“You know what it means. Now would you like to press the issue or would you like to get back to your job and do what you’re being paid to do, you fucking goon.”

König seemed to shoot you a sideways glance, you couldn’t really tell with his visor down, but before you could think to warn him otherwise he decided that it was indeed time to press the issue. Every fibre of your being wanted to throttle him then. If your choice was crawling into a death tunnel or ending up in an argument between Ghost and König during an operation, then tunnel of death it is!

“Paid personnel or not, at least I’m trying to get us all out safely,” König retorted.

“All? Trying to make sure we all get out, or just trying to make sure you’ve got a warm hole to crawl back to at the end of this? Which is it really?”

There was an almost tangible silence in the room. It was as if there was a thick bubble coating you all, preventing a single whisper of noise from escaping. You couldn’t even hear the others breathe, not over König anyway. He was panting like a charging bull, breaking through the bubble, he sounded like he was ready to tear Ghost down into a stump.

“Ghost, what’re you talking about?” Soap said, not able to contain himself. “We shouldn’t be arguing, we should be moving! Let’s just go.”

“You’re not going down into that tunnel, Sergeant!” König warned, making a move to stop Soap.

“Or what?” Ghost asked, rising to his full height and jumping into König’s path.

König stood silently, he didn’t say anything - but he didn't allow Ghost to intimidate him either. He stood perfectly still, besides straightening his back, and eyed his opponent. The two of them looked like windup toys ready to strike.

“Nothing to say?” Ghost sneered. “Then move.”

“Lieutenant, be reasonable,” König said.

“I am being incredibly reasonable, König,” Ghost laughed, a dark chuckle rumbling from his throat. “In fact, judging by the way you’re acting, maybe Sneak can tell you just how reasonable I’m being.”

Everyone’s heads turned to you, navigating the thick silence that followed with ease. Their night vision goggles stared you down as if they were being programmed to move in sync. You swallowed a thick lump in your throat and gripped tightly at your gun, holding onto it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. What were you supposed to say now?

“What’s going on?” Gaz sighed, clearly at the end of his tether.

“Tell them what’s going on, Sneak,” Ghost ordered. “Tell them exactly why this little song and dance is happening right now. Go on. Let them know why Captain Rags has his face in a twist over you going down into the tunnel. Let’s get it out there for the world to know.”

Every one of his words hit you like a knife in your gut. There were blades sticking out at all angles and it was taking all your strength just to stay up. So this was it? You were truly going out in a blaze, but it was far from glorious.

“Sneak?” König said, his voice strained with confusion.

“König, Ghost found the pictures in your wallet when he knocked your stuff off the rack yesterday,” you said quietly. “He knows we’re together.”

“What the fuck!” Soap whispered.

“Sneak, what do you mean you’re together?” Gaz asked. “You can’t be together, Price will fucking kill you…”

Horangi remained silent.

“Apparently they’re not ones for following orders,” Ghost sneered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t even be having this discussion would we?”

Ghost looked between you both and you growled out at yourself, sinking into disbelief that all of it was really happening. It felt surreal to be standing around arguing in a building that was full of god knows how many explosives. Why was it that König could never just follow orders? Why couldn’t you? The room was so hot it felt like you were all starting to cook, smelt like it too.

“König, just do as Ghost says and take the others,” you commanded. “At this rate we’re all going to get blown up and this whole argument won’t even matter.”

“Sneak-”

“No, König! Just go, we can all talk about it later.”

“That’s if you even make it back later!”

“Don’t think like that. Just take Horangi and Gaz back to extraction and find out why Price hasn’t answered us. Otherwise none of us are getting out of here!”

König continued to stare for a second more, but finally he’d seen sense. He shook his head and furiously muttered something to himself in German before he walked back to the exit. He gave you one last look and with that, slid back the wooden panel and walked out with Horangi in tow, missing only Gaz as he left you all.

With the door open and König gone you felt like you could breathe a little easier again, but as soon as you looked back at the others, the feeling went away. Gaz shook his head at you and walked out, mumbling something that was too low to hear and soon it was only you, Ghost and Soap left.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Sneak. What the fuck were you thinking? Have you really been lying to us all this time?”

You sighed and looked at Soap, watching the way his mouth downturned in disgust. A horrible nauseous feeling permeated in your stomach and in your throat, but you couldn’t pay too much attention to it. You had to keep your head on more important things.

“Clearly I wasn’t thinking,” you sighed. “Look, I’ll answer whatever questions you want after we’re out of this, but we need to get moving.”

“Agreed,” Ghost said, already heading for the tunnel. “We’ve had enough distraction already.”

Ghost cut Soap off from interrupting, shooting him a hard look before he took a flashbang from one of his holsters and primed it. He threw it down the tunnel and waited for a reaction. Nothing. After being met with silence, he quickly flew down into the darkness, leaving you and Soap up top. Soap surely burned a hole through his night vision and into you.

You shivered and followed Ghost, cautiously setting your foot on the ladder, not liking the way it wobbled with Ghost’s weight and yours. There wasn’t much to be done about it though. You had to get down there quickly and make sure he had backup.

You scurried down and stuck one foot behind the other, releasing each of the metal rungs like they were on fire. It didn’t take long until you were at the bottom and eventually Soap followed you both and rather nicely decided against booting you in the head on his way down, dropping to your side instead.

“There’s no one here, but they’ll have heard that, no doubt,” Ghost warned. “Stay close and lets find out what these fuckers are hiding down here.”

You nodded your agreement and followed him down the tunnel, watching the rickety support beams with a cautious eye. König had been right to worry.

What’s he thinking right now? Is he hurt?

Not again, stop thinking about him. Focus!

The tunnel didn’t seem like it had been in operation for very long. Something that had seen more use would surely have been built better, you reasoned, not looking like it could crumble at any second. As you took a few more twists and turns and continued to follow the path it didn’t seem to get much better. The walls looked hastily dug out and like any little disturbance might bury them. Though as you all turned another corner and followed the winding walkway, you were surprised to find yourself in a rather large cavernous room.

It was built solidly and looked far more like a permanent structure, it was supported by thick metal beams from which overhead lights were suspended and hanging down from long wires. It also contained a plethora of scaffolding like shelves, housing a few abandoned looking wooden crates, some of them looked like they’d been raided, others were dusty and dark with disuse. You flipped your goggles up and watched the two men at your sides repeat the action, finally noticing the true extent of all the grime and blood that had covered them both.

“What is this place?” Soap wondered out loud.

“Looks like some kind of storage facility. Well, it was one anyway,” you remarked.

You didn’t miss the way Soap narrowed his eyes at you from the side of his vision. He advanced forward through the looming racks while you stayed behind and watched the other men go. You had to give yourself a second for the bile to stop rising in your stomach. To say that being on an op with two men that had it out for you was making you feel uneasy was an understatement.

However you didn’t have the luxury of lingering on for very long. Once you noticed Ghost heading to the set of shelves that blocked your view of the head of the room, you started to follow after him, ensuring that he’d have some cover. Part of you felt better being around someone that had had longer to digest the news.

Once you’d flown past the racks and over to Ghost you began to realise that there was a thrumming noise emanating from the far side of the room. It rumbled and growled and grew harder on your ears the closer you got and as soon as you made your way round the racking you saw the source of it. A big set of metal doors.

Soap joined you from the otherside, clearly finding the rest of the room just as empty as you had. Ghost looked over to Soap then and back at the door, motioning for him to get close.

“Soap, do you have the borescope?”

“Aye, hold on, I’ll sort it.”

Soap reached into his bag and pulled out the long snake of wire and fetched his drill. From there he made a small opening in the door with quick precision and sent the coiled camera through, taking a look at the monitor as he did so. The monitor quickly flashed on and you and Ghost were able to peer round and see a flurry of men running around a mixture of freight and pickup trucks, loading cargo onto them. There were some that were beginning to drive off, halting just as they made it onto the big ramp then ran up the far side of that room.

How on earth had they managed to hide that?

You frowned as you watched on, realising that the last trucks were beginning to get closed up and prepared for driving off, you could hear the echoes of the doors being slammed shut. The men were shouting louder now, driving each other to go, go, go. You watched Ghost out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to make a decision. All until the final man walked into the centre of the room, he was surrounded by a group of heavily covered up muscle men toting machine guns like they were little more than big boys with pretend sticks in the playground. The man walked in the centre of them with a confident strut - he looked just like he did in the videos.

“Holy fuck, is that Rousseau?” Soap whispered.

Ghost nodded tightly.

“Brothers! We have done well today, the enemy safehouse has been destroyed and the rest of the soldiers will still be trapped in the warehouse trying to route us out. Let us leave and go to our new base, onwards and upwards my friends!”

The enemy safehouse has been destroyed? Price? Laswell? Were they ok?

You widened your eyes, but you didn’t get much time to think about Price and the others.

Rousseau had sped over to one of the trucks and once inside, had set off a cataclysm. The doors to the ramp opened, bathing the basement in startling sunlight and from there the explosions began, a loud series of bangs that shook the room like a hurricane, each one unsettling the walls and floor as they got closer. It felt like a tiger leaping ever closer, ready to land straight onto your belly and tear you open.

What the fuck!

“We need to get out of here!”Ghost roared. “Head for the trucks, we can try to get into the one at the back.

He kicked at the door and luckily it burst open, allowing you all to run forward and into the next room. Because the room was so long, you were still covered by shadow and no one seemed to notice your group’s appearance. No one was shooting at you anyway.

Your throat burned as you ran, your mind was racing, intent on following Ghost as he stuck to the walls, keeping yourselves hidden in the darkness. He was racing out ahead while you and Soap tied with each other, running neck and neck and panting like hounds as you propelled yourselves ahead of the blasts. The room was really shaking now and while the last truck began to pull away and ascend up the ramp, your eyes teared up.

No, no, no. Not like this!

You pumped your legs a little bit harder and Soap did the same, managing to sprint ahead like you were all in a murmuration, moving fluidly and in sync with one another. With that effort made, you all managed to jump onto the last truck, detaching from the wall at the last minute before attaching yourselves to the back. You all grabbed onto what holds that you could, affixing yourselves to the bolts that kept the doors closed and held on for dear life, watching on with horror as you saw the warehouse burning up in the distance, leaving it in a trail of smoke.

It was then you were finally able to hear the crackle of comms and a blended mixture of broken up accented shouts, German, Korean and English. The others were trying to contact you.

Had they made it out ok?

“Gaz, is that you?” Ghost shouted out, trying to adjust his headset while he gripped onto the bolt. “We’re on Rousseau, we’re out of the warehouse. Did your team make it out?”

If you weren’t busy being terrified for everyone’s lives you would have rolled your eyes.

“LT, is that you?” Gaz called out, his voice finally coming through clearly. “Are you all ok?”

Ghost didn’t get a chance to say anything to that, he was quickly cut off.

“Lieutenant, respond!” König snarled, his voice snapping out like an angry wolf.

“We made it out,” Ghost confirmed. “Did you hear what I said? Where are you? We’re following Rousseau, we’re on one of his trucks. His men must’ve been instructed to set this up for him upon capture. They must’ve had a plan to move when they knew we were coming.”

“We made it out, we started heading for the extraction point, but we got cut off by Rousseau’s forces in the woods. He must’ve left men behind to try and stop us from getting out, we got em’ though. We still haven’t heard any word from Price. What direction are you heading in? Should we follow?”

“We got word that they destroyed the safe house,” Soap said. “Price and Laswell might not’ve made it.”

You finally turned and looked up, blinking back at the rush of air as you changed direction and looked at Soap. He looked like a terrified cat that had got itself stuck up a tree. Both of his hands must’ve been white knuckling the bolt from under his gloves - he was holding onto the same one as you, standing over you while you crouched low and hooked your feet into the groove of the bevelled doors. The extra grip was helping your shaking body.

Why couldn't Ghost have just let you and König pair off? You’d have taken jungle warfare over hanging off the back of a speeding truck anyday. It would have avoided the whole stupid argument back at the tunnel too. In that moment, while you held on for dear life, you realised that there was a lot of things that you’d have wished that could’ve been done differently.

“Don’t follow us,” Ghost said, taking back control of the line, “Try to find out if anyone made it to the extraction. You hear that, König? Make sure that we can make it out of this, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Hard to say what’s stupid when your definition seems so different to mine,” König snarked.

“König, don’t be a smartass! Just try and find Price so we can get Rousseau,” you growled.

Ghost tilted his head at you, clearly surprised that you’d been the one to tell him off for that. As much as you were relieved to know he was ok, and as much as you’d like to comfort him, you knew the mission was much bigger than yourselves. Getting everyone out safely and trying to successfully capture Rousseau was the most important thing and you could only do that if you were apart.

The line remained quiet for a second.

“Ok, we’re heading to the extraction again now,” Gaz confirmed. “We’ll let you know when we reach point.”

“Copy, Sergeant.”

You looked up at Ghost and then at Soap, watching as both men struggled with staying stuck to the truck. This wasn’t going to work long term, you could feel your own arms wanting to give out, it wouldn’t be long till you’d all come tumbling off and crashing onto the dirt road. You had to figure out a way to get to a more secure location.

“Ghost, do you think you can hold on to the truck and try to support my weight at the same time?” You asked.

“Why?” he barked.

“If you hold onto me, I can try and climb up the truck and get myself on top,” you explained.

“And then what about us?” Soap growled. “All very well sorting out a nice place for yourself up there.”

“If I move up there, then you can crouch next to Ghost and open the door on the side we’re standing on,” you said, glaring up at him. “That way we can all hold it so it doesn’t swing out and you two can climb in and shut it.”

This wasn’t the time for accusations. You waited for them both to share their thoughts, and jumped when the truck hit a bump. It almost sent you all flying. Soap yelped and hugged into the bolt tighter and Ghost grunted. You fumbled as your feet were displaced and wobbled, your hands slipping off of the bolt and sending you sprawling backwards.

Ghost reached out and grabbed you in the nick of time, just when you thought you were about to be grated parmesan on the side of the pebbled road. You huffed out a breath and grabbed a hold of the bar, swallowing down your pulse as it tried to climb out of your throat.

“Right, get on with it,” Ghost said, “I can only hold you for so long.”

You shook your head and had to remind yourself of the plan. That close call rocked you.

Without any more interruption, you grabbed onto the bolt on Ghost’s side with both hands and swung your legs up, planting them against the wall while Ghost kept his hand flat against your back. As you got higher up, his support dwindled, but from there you were able to reach around the top and kick your legs against the doors. With one last grunt you were able to get yourself fully on top of the truck, but kept yourself belly down on it, ensuring that you wouldn’t be seen.

“Ok, I’m gonna hold onto the door now. Open it when Soap’s in position.”

The other two fumbled around, getting themselves steady. After a few moments of contoroting themselves around one another they were able to open the door, it was heavy and it took everything in you not to go flying out with it even with Ghost holding it from his position too, but you were able to stop it just enough so that Ghost and Soap could climb in as they both took turns to hold the door alongside you.

Once they’d disappeared inside and snapped the door shut, you realised that there was a small fault in your plan when you were left gripping on for dear life. Not to mention how much colder it was on top with all the wind rushing past your face. Then there was also the bugs…

“Nice work, Sneak,” Ghost congratulated, voice coming in quiet over the line. “I’m gonna get soap to drill a hole in the ceiling. Have you got your knife with you?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, frowning as you slowly worked out where he was going with this.

“That should give you something decent to hold onto.”

“Are you serious? Can’t you guys cut a hole in the ceiling for me?” you huffed.

“Who do you think I am, Qui-Gon fuckin’ Jinn?” Soap retorted, you could hear the drill going in the background. “Must’ve forgotten my lightsaber at home. Beyond blowing the thing off, how am I gonna cut a hole in the roof, sneak?”

“I’m not asking you to melt the whole roof off soap, you must be able to make a small hole with that drill, just make a few drill holes and weaken the metal!” you growled.

“Negative. We need you up there, Sergeant,” Ghost interrupted. “We need someone who can see ahead and tell us when the trucks are stopping or if we leave the forest. If they reach base or they leave us with no cover we need to get ready to jump off and hide.”

You sighed and watched as the drill bit poked its way out behind you, grating through the metal with a sound like grinding teeth. You would need to turn and slide forward a few inches to be able to reach it, but it looked like that was your best way to keep on top of the truck.

Without anymore stalling, you flipped around and watched as it disappeared and appeared a couple times more, forming a ragged little line. That would be enough for your knife to eat through.

You shakily reached behind you and to your knife holster, gripping the handle like a vice in your hands, whatever you did you couldn’t let it fly from your hold. With that in mind you quickly extended your arm and stabbed it through the hole, gritting your teeth as your hand slammed into the metal. That was surely going to bruise,

“Could’ve done with some warning, Sneak,” Soap huffed. “You almost took my finger off.”

“Poor baby, maybe you’d like to swap places,” you retorted. “See how you like holding onto the top of a truck with nothing but your hands.”

“Watch it, or I’ll send that knife flyin’ out,” he barked back.

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost growled. “Keep the line clear. Sneak, let us know what you see, copy?”

“Copy that, Ghost.”

You hardened your gaze onto the horizon, watching as the trees came waving by and flew into your periphery, and adjusted your position. With both hands firmly wrapped around your knife, you were deadset on keeping your fingers wrapped around it with a snake like constriction. In that moment you were picturing it as Rousseau’s neck, already seeing red as you thought about Price and König and all the shit that you’d been through since chasing after the bastard.

You were going to get him. You were going to make him pay.

If König, Gaz and Horangi didn’t get back to you soon with good news, then you were fully prepared to unleash hell on him. It didn’t matter what Price was going to do when he found out about you and König, it didn’t matter about the rising blood and seething vitriol that would surely come with the revelation. Price was the one that helped shape you into the soldier you were, he was the one that had gotten you back alive from countless missions, he was your reason for marching on in some of your toughest fights. He cared about you and he believed in you - it was why he was so protective in the first place.

If Price was gone then it wouldn’t be long until the killer met the same fate…of course only after suffering for their actions in the meantime.

Next part here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

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brekkie-e · 8 months

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I need more people talking about how the ideal thematic party is Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion. All three bound in the shackles of servitude in some capacity, all three in some stage of being sold to hell.

Karlach and Astarion being two sides of the same coin. Years of servitude, physical and emotional torment, and rage under their belt. Nothing but the burning desire for revenge and the desperate ache to live flowing through their veins. They're both drunk on freedom and life. They get the other person, despite responding to their new found freedom in completely opposite ways. You can see it in their banter though. They get it. There is not a lot of judgement between them. If Karlach needs to laugh hysterically because she's here on the material plane, walking in the sun, and just can't believe it? Astarion can't even bring himself to judge.

But Wyll? Wyll is careening towards joining them in their suffering. He's got one foot in the door. He already knows a little of the pain that comes with being on the end of a leash, but he has only just begun to fully feel the consequences he is destined to face. The thing about Wyll though is he's desperate to save everyone but himself. He's quick to back Karlach and Astarion in their fights against their tormentors. But when it comes down to it he's fairly passive in his quest to free himself of Mizzora. Atleast in my experience, it fell to Tav to capitalize on oppurtunities to out think her. It fell to Tav to push him to TRY. That's not a critique on Wyll, but when you put that thematically next to Karlach and Astarion who are near feral in their desperation for freedom- it is really interesting. And it's easy to imagine the two of them becoming determined to ensure he doesn't fall victim to the same fates they did. He's trying to save them, while they're trying to save him.

Or, countering my own point, imagine how frustrating that would be for Karlach and Astarion. Knowing that this great guy, this larger than life hero who always has a silly pun and a dashing smile on hand- doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of his situation. He’s still smiling. He’s still soldiering on as though nothing is wrong. He’s not taking the initiative to escape it, and he’s not coming up with any possible solution. He’s content to keep spending his time helping people and putting them before his own needs. Now, Wyll isn’t necessarily as fine as he seems. He’s by no means ignorant of or unafraid of the fate that awaits him. But he puts on a good front, with that big old Charisma modifier of his. And I imagine that could easily drive Astarion and Karlach mad.

That’s without going in to the fact that Astarion has an infernal pact carved on his back, and will be sold to hell as well if he doesn’t find a solution. And he hits the ground running the moment he finds out. He is not about to let that happen, and goes to great lengths to find out how to fix the situation. So there is a contrast with Astarion and Wyll not only in their reaction to their own tormenter’s, but with their goal of evading hell.

Because of how each of these guys’ situation is so closely related to their own, I think many moments would arise of stepping on each other’s toes while processing their trauma. Karlach and Astarion know better than most what Wyll is going to go through if he doesn’t take this seriously, and he makes PUNS? If they could go back to the day before their lives changed forever, they would do everything possible to make sure it never happened. They didn’t get a warning. He has his written on paper. In glowing ink. There could be so many incredible arguments between these three because personality wise- more often than not it would be Karlach and Wyll agreeing. Which would make the moments Karlach ends up siding with Astarion because Wyll made light of something at the wrong time all the more poignant. Karlach and Astarion agreeing on something and being a united front trying to drag Wyll to action would be such a powerful scene.

It becomes even more fun when you consider their personalities. Wyll and Karlach being the indisputably kindest characters of the group, but being so narratively tied to the one who is morally bankrupt. When someone is altruistically good and helps people for no reason Astarion usually gets frustrated with the fact they don’t understand how cruel the world is. He doesn’t do that with Karlach. He can’t do that with Karlach. Because she’s him. She’s the part of him who rages and screams and let’s every swear word fly and embraces how much hurt she is carrying and how entirely unfair it is. He sees that in her and I think some part of him is validated by it. So when she is unbearably kind and refuses to believe that there’s no good left in the world, who is he to tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She has just as much baggage to back her up as he does. He just walks off and let’s her have it in most of the banter I’ve heard. The flip side, he validates her own need for vengeance and doesn’t let her feel like a bad person for enjoying taking her anger out. She deserves it after everything that’s been taken from her.

Wyll is a similar situation. He is a constant example of the goodness of humanity. A reminder that it is more important to remain true to oneself even at the expense of power or comfort. He stays true to himself, and is forced to abandon his home. He stays true to himself, and is forced to endure a form that is foreign to him. He stays true to himself, and forsakes the safety of the material plane. In the process, he sacrifices the powers of his pact. He willingly gives up the position of Grand Duke so that he can be the tool for good that he thinks the world needs. Of course, a million points can also be made about all that he’s willing to sacrifice if you go the route of maintaining his pact- but I’m working off of what I personally saw play out, which was destroy the pact but save the Grand Duke.

Wyll’s personality playing off Astarion’s selfishness is so interesting. The first things Astarion reaches for in every situation are power and comfort. Silk sheets, a good wine, unholy ascension- whatever the whim of the day is. Being forced into the company of someone who constantly reminds him there is a vastly different approach to life would both be frustrating and eye opening. Especially when that example is backed up by Karlach whom Astarion can’t help but respect and find oddly comforting. Vice versa, as Wyll is an example of selflessness to Astarion, he is an example of selfishness to Wyll. Where Wyll and Karlach drag Astarion kicking and screaming towards recovery, he might have his own soft moments of begging Wyll to put himself first. Just once. Being selfish about your needs does not make you a bad person. A dynamic made even better by Karlach being the background example that being unapologetic about your needs is okay. All of these little elements play off each other so well.

Now how do these guys come through for Karlach? Stability. Which is a word I NEVER thought to use in reference to Astarion before. But I’m serious. Day one of freedom for him? Where is his mind? Completely focused on how to make sure it lasts. How does he secure the situation. How does he make himself safe permanently? He is a self proclaimed ideas man, not much of a planner. And yet, he IS coming up with ideas. He is thinking ahead about the future, and planning to take every chance he can to secure his freedom. Karlach is living in the moment, taking each day as a blessing and not letting fears of the future hold her back. And she deserves that. But it’s good for her to have someone pulling her back to earth and reminding her to do more than live in the moment when it comes to the big things. I’m serious, if they all three put their heads together and worked as a team not only would they be able to accomplish anything- the found family potential is absolutely limitless.

So- long story short. I personally find them to be the most satisfying and interesting party dynamic you can play with. It’s rewarding on a lot of levels, and also has some of the best friendship dialogues in the game. Which I’ve noticed there just isn’t a lot of friend-centric commentary or scenes in the base game, but this party does seem to get more than other’s I’ve worked with. I think that’s a larger issue than just which party build you run with, but I do enjoy that you can get a satisfying found family feel with this crew. Of course, romancing them as eachother also works pretty well too- the dynamics are just as good for that. Personally, I enjoy romancing Astarion and then keeping Karlach and Wyll as besties, but there’s a lot of ways you can run with it.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 meta #Wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #astarion #astarion ancunin #karlach #karlach cliffgate #meta #long post #text post #brekkie thoughts

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loving-barnes · 3 months

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LOGAN HOWLETT - NEED

A/N: CHAPTER TEN is here! I'm sorry it took me so long. I just had a lot on my plate. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided to not give any warnings. Please remember this story is 18+.

Summary: Things move forward between Logan and Y/N.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience. MINORS DNI!

Words: 4300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Nine

LOGAN HOWLETT - NEED

Jean stood next to a hospital bed, looking down at unconscious Y/N. She had a chart in her hands, checking the data she collected the past three days. Three days - that’s how long Y/N was out of the present.

Logan didn’t want to leave her side once they removed the collar from his neck. The wounds immediately healed, and he became a new person. Jean managed to send Logan away. He insisted on staying by Y/N’s side until she’d open her eyes. Luckily, Jean persuaded him quickly. Even Storm wanted to remain by her side all the time. The friendship between her and Y/N blossomed fast.

When Storm arrived with the rest of the team, she was horrified when she found Logan wounded and weak next to an unconscious body. There was a slight fear Logan wouldn’t be able to heal from the wounds. When Hank and Jean freed Logan from the collar, the healing happened quickly. No one would tell he was fighting for his life hours ago.

Jean enjoyed the silence in the medical room. The only thing she heard was the beeping sound of a heart monitor.

The door to the room opened. Charles wheeled in, followed by Hank, Logan and Storm. Before anyone could ask anything, Jean gave them an answer. “No change. She’s stable, well, but still out.”

Charles was the first to approach the bed. His hands caressed Y/N’s exposed forearm, where he kept staring at the lightly radiating skin. It was fascinating. Charles didn’t have an exact answer for that. All they knew was that it had to do something with her mutation.

“You said it happened before?” The question was for Logan.

“Yes. It was the day we saved the boy and came back here. I noticed her eyes glowing.”

Charles thought about it. “Mutations can evolve. It is one thing you get to master your powers and manipulate them. In some cases, more abilities can be developed. I think this could be the case. Y/N’s mutation is evolving. I believe ner powers will rise to the surface very soon.”

“So, what? You will test her like a lab rat,” Logan scoffed, not fond of the idea. “Hadn’t she had enough of that?”

“I’m not saying we will test on her. That will only happen if she’d want to,” Charles said. “We have to wait until she awakes. It can be minutes, hours, or even days. Her mind is locked. I can’t get inside, no matter how much I try.”

“You said she created a force field around the whole school,” Storm looked at Logan. “Her energy got drained to the last bit. No wonder she’s been out for three days now. She’s never done anything like that before. She could have died.”

Jean approached the woman on the bed. She grabbed her hand, scanning the skin. “Why has this been happening for three days?”

“I forgot to mention one thing,” Logan cleared his throat. He crossed his arms over his chest. It got everyone’s attention. “The leader of the Trask unit that came to school was Y/N’s mother.”

“What?” they all said in unison. All eyes were on him.

Logan nodded. “After the accident with Y/N’s sister, her mother joined Trask Industries. She wanted revenge for her lost child. Turns out, she became a respected, high-ranked person there.”

There was silence. The information about Y/N’s mother was shocking. “That is a plot twist,” Storm commented.

“Y/N didn’t know about it, just to clarify,” Logan added strictly.

“She had her eyes on me since I escaped the lab in Salem,” said Y/N’s voice from the bed.

They all turned to the voice. Logan was the first by her side, staring at her face. Her eyes were open a crack. She was getting used to the light. Y/N blinked a few times before her eyes moved to look at Logan. He saw that her irises were glowing like the colours of the force field - silvery and blue. When she blinked again a few times, they turned back to normal.

“JJ was a trap,” she continued. “It gave away my location. Because of me, the children were in danger. Everything that happened was my fault.”

“No,” Storm walked to her from the other side. She grabbed Y/N’s hand. “You couldn’t know that would happen. All you wanted was to save the boy. And you did it. How could you know it was a trap? Also, you protected the whole school. The building is standing still because of you.”

A yawn escaped Y/N’s lips. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes,” Jean nodded. She had a gentle smile on her face. “They are all back in school. Colossus took them away just in time. The building is standing, and it is all thanks to you.”

“Good,” Y/N closed her eyes. “I’m glad no one got hurt.”

Charles opened his mouth, ready to ask a question. Quickly, he shut it, dismissing what he wanted to ask. “We’ll talk later. Rest,” he suggested.

As they walked away, Y/N opened her eyes and found Logan staring at her. His face was filled with worry. She winked at him. It was a sign to stay. Everyone left while he remained by her bed. The door closed. They were officially alone.

Slowly, she pushed her body up until she was sitting. She stretched her arms. Logan got closer to the bed. Her eyes traced over his body. She realised he wore a simple black T-shirt that perfectly showed his muscles. Her mouth opened, almost dropping down on her lap. Damn. There was an urge to touch his stomach, to feel the abs underneath her touch. She clenched the bedsheet tightly.

“How are you feeling?” Logan’s voice brought her back to reality.

Y/N gulped. “Tired,” she replied. “It might be because I’ve been out for… how long?”

“Three days.”

“That long? Shit,” she shook her head in disbelief. Y/N moved her body. She sat at the edge of the bed, legs hanging in the air. “How are you? What did I miss?”

“A stamp of approval from Scott,” Logan laughed when he said that. “And I’m fine.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped. “Wow, I was expecting everything but that. Wait ‘til he hears about my mother being a part of Trask Industries. He will hate my guts once again. If not more.”

Logan’s eyes took in every detail of Y/N’s face. She had an amused smile on her face. Her eyes were shining with her natural colour. Her hair was all messy and tangled. And yet, she was the perfect thing he ever saw. Logan couldn’t believe he was able to kiss her that night. That dammed night when they were attacked.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Y/N noticed it. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for what was about to come. She could feel it in the air. It got thicker and heavier with lust and something beautiful. She didn’t have the time to whisper his name. Logan’s lips found hers in a feverish kiss. One hand grabbed her by the neck to pull her body as close to his as possible. He had to lean down to reach for her lips.

Y/N’s left hand was feeling the hard abs on his abdomen. The other hand pressed against his cheek. She could feel the beard scratching the skin of her palm. How come he was so hot with that mutton chops beard? He could pull it off.

Logan broke the kiss. He sighed, annoyed. Y/N raised a brow. It was a silent question. She wanted to know why he stopped. “You’ll have a visitor in a few seconds.”

“Ah,” she chuckled. Y/N found it amusing. Logan was visibly unhappy someone had to interrupt them again. On the other hand, she admired his advanced hearing. No one needed to know something was happening between them. It was too soon to show. The first thing they needed to do was to talk about it and define what this thing was between them.

As he stepped back, the door opened. Kitty walked in with Jerome by her side. Y/N’s eyes lit up when she saw him. “Hi, JJ!” A smile spread across her face.

“He wanted to see you,” Kitty said when they approached the bed. “He heard us when we talked in the hallway. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N nodded quickly. Her eyes trailed to Logan. He had his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the child. Y/N wanted to laugh at him. It was funny he was jealous of a kid. When JJ sat on the bed next to her, she patted his head.

“Are you feeling okay?” JJ asked her. “I’ve heard what happened. Everyone knows what happened. You saved the school!”

Y/N blinked a few times. She didn’t know what to say to that. “Yeah, she did,” Logan stepped in. “She got to warn us before the attackers came.”

“That’s badass,” Jerome said excitedly. “How did you know about it? Do you have a new mutation? My friends asked about you,” he kept talking fast. “You are like a celebrity among the students. You are a hero,” he explained.

“Oh,” Y/N was not pleased with that information. She didn’t want to be a hero. “There are better heroes out there. Look at Professor Xavier or Storm, Kitty… they are the real heroes here. I just did what was necessary.”

“I wish I could see it,” JJ sighed, upset that he wasn’t there. Colossus took him and the children to a safe place before the soldiers marched in.

“I’m glad you managed to get to a safe place with Colossus,” Y/N dishevelled his hair.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Kitty used the silence to ask her.

“Tired,” she gave her the same answer as she had said to Logan. “Thanks for bringing JJ here. At least I know he’s well,” and she pressed a gentle kiss on top of the boy’s head. He slowly became the little brother she never had.

When Kitty took Jerome away, Logan was relieved to be alone with Y/N again. This time, he sat next to her on the bed. His hand found the back of her neck. He started to massage it. Y/N’s eyes closed. She almost purred. A moan escaped her mouth. Logan’s eyes widened at that sound, and he grinned. “That was a pretty sound. You should make more.”

She glared at him. “Dirty mind.”

When he stopped, he leaned closer. “Let me take you back to your room,” he whispered. He kept breathing in Y/N’s scent.

“Again, dirty mind,” she chuckled.

Logan pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “You are the one with a dirty mind. I didn’t mean it like that, princess.”

Y/N watched as he got closer, wanting to kiss her again. She pressed an index finger to his lips, stopping him. “I need to do one more thing before we leave,” she said, staring into his eyes. She reached for one of his hands and brushed her fingers against his knuckles. “Scratch me with your claws.”

Logan raised his brows, pushing away a little. “What?”

“Please, do it,” she begged. “I need you to scratch me with them. You’ll see why.”

“No,” he shook his head and pulled away from her. His eyes focused on the floor, frowning. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You will not hurt me, I promise you. I need to see something. Either you will scratch me with a claw, or I will find a knife and do it myself.”

He growled like a wolf. When Logan clenched a fist, one of the claws slowly came out under his skin. He then turned his body to her. Y/N prepared her forearm. Before he could change his mind, Logan cut into her skin, making her bleed. A second later, the wound lit up like the colours of her forcefield and started closing in front of their eyes.

“Shit,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know I could do that. That’s new.”

“Damn,” Logan sighed. “That explains why we didn’t find any bullet wounds on your body. There was blood but no gashes. You can heal.”

“I can heal,” she nodded. Y/N buried her face into her hands, sighing loudly. “Holy shit, I can heal. That might explain why I could remain alive all these years in the labs. I know it happened when they attacked us. I remember being shot. I remember the pain. When I looked a few seconds later, the wound wasn’t there. I just needed to be sure that it wasn’t a hallucination.”

Logan grabbed one of her hands and pressed a soft kiss on top of it. It was a sweet, loving gesture. “Come on, princess. I’ll take you to your room.”

“Aw, such a gentleman,” she patted his beard-covered cheek playfully. “I should get wounded more. You’ll treat me like a princess every second of my life,” she teased.

“Very funny.”

They left the lowest level underground. Logan kept her close to him but didn’t touch her. They kept some distance between them in case someone decided to appear out of nowhere. He kept an eye on her in case she would show any sign of weakness.

The atmosphere changed when they arrived at the main level. The students were walking around the hallways, chatting. None of them were holding books. It meant only one thing - it was already afternoon.

One by one, they turned their attention to Logan and Y/N. When they found their teachers walking down the hallway, they stopped talking. The attention was now on them. Fingers were being pointed at them, as well as whispers spreading around.

“That’s her,” someone said.

“She saved the school.”

“They protected us.”

“She teaches English.”

“I want to be as cool as them.”

“Miss Y/L/N can make forcefields.”

All Y/N could hear in her mind was freak, weirdo, murderer. You killed her! You killed my baby!

Y/N closed her eyes and stopped walking. The attention was unpleasant. Logan noticed her face. His hand found Y/N’s lower back. It was a gentle gesture. He pressed his fingers lightly against her. Logan kept watching her face. He could see how her breath quickened. “You okay?” he asked.

Y/N gave him one gentle nod. When she opened her eyes, they started to travel around the place. They captured every single child that was staring at her. Their looks were different. The thoughts that were screaming inside her mind eased. They were barely whispers. Before, she’d feel like the biggest weirdo on the entire planet. Now, the feeling was different. She didn’t want to run away from it. Y/N was aware that she and Logan protected the whole school.

Y/N continued to walk through the crowd of students. She headed to the stairs with Logan close behind. No one asked a thing. No one wanted to talk to her. Y/N appreciated it all.

“The kids look up to ya,” Logan said when they climbed all the stairs to the third floor. They stopped in front of Y/N’s room. “They always do when someone becomes a hero,” he made a face.

“I’m no hero,” she shrugged. It made her feel uncomfortable. “I only did what was necessary.”

Logan sighed. “You sure you’ll be fine?”

She leaned against the closed door and smiled. “Yes, I will. Thank you, my knight in shining armour. I shall give you flowers for your bravery,” she bowed to him a little, laughing.

“Text me if you need me, and I’ll come to you, princess,” he winked at her.

Y/N walked into her room. She closed the door, sighing. Logan left without a kiss. Why was she so upset about it? Rolling her eyes, Y/N walked to the bathroom. She needed to shower the last three unconscious days and a fight where she came face to face with her mother.

. . .

It was ten in the evening. The whole school was silent. The students were in their rooms, already asleep. During school days, they all had to be in their dorms before nine.

Y/N was inside her room the whole time. After a long hot shower, she changed into fresh clothes. She then fell asleep on her bed for a few hours. Her body was tired. It called for a nap. Now, she was sitting on the bed, finishing a French braid. Y/N could smell the coconut shampoo on her body. Her mind kept wandering to Logan, her mother and back.

How is it that when something nice was happening, a shit from the past had to appear at the exact moment? Shaking her head, she tied the end of the braid with a rubber band.

There was a knock on the door. Before Y/N could open her mouth, the door slowly opened. Logan walked in, frowning. When he noticed her sitting on the bed, his face softened.

“What’s with the face?” she asked, grinning.

He closed the door behind him and approached the bed. “I was worried, okay?”

Y/N kneeled on the bed, laughing. “Aw, that is so sweet. The big bad Wolverine was worried about me.” Her eyes watched as he took a seat next to her. “I’m sorry for giving you wrinkles. I fell asleep after the shower.”

Logan huffed, nodding. And then, in a mere second, Logan grabbed her into his arms. One held her by the waist while the other was behind her neck. Their lips connected in a sloppy, passionate kiss. At this point, Y/N wasn’t even surprised by his sudden action. All she could do was think about him - his lips, his touch. Their tongues pressed together, mouths sliding hungrily. They got lost in their passion.

“I was worried about you,” said Logan when their lips disconnected. “I was going crazy watching you unconscious on that damn bed,” he admitted. “I’d be really pissed if something happened to you.”

Her finger gently stroked the bridge of his nose. “When I saw you with that collar, powerless, I knew I had to do anything to protect you. You became a simple mortal human being. It wasn’t nice to see you all wounded and defeated. I was worried that…”

Logan’s brows raised. “What?” he asked softly.

“We wouldn’t be able to start whatever it is between us,” she looked away.

Logan sat on the bed and brought her onto his lap. His hands held her by the hips, gripping them tightly. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. “Oh, princess,” he sighed, staring into her eyes. They travelled to her lips. “Good thing we survived. We can now continue where we left off.”

Y/N felt the thrill rushing through her body. However, her face heated up. Suddenly, she was shy. Logan saw it all. One of his hands rested on her cheeks. “Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, the last time I had something with a guy was over five years ago,” she made a face.

“We don’t have to…”

“But I want to,�� she stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I want to, Logan. I-” Her eyes scanned his green ones. There was something on her lips she wanted to say. It was too soon to confess. Y/N knew what she felt for him, but she didn’t allow herself to say it out loud. After she swallowed the truthful words, she said, “I want you.”

The air changed in the room. With a gentle touch, Logan traced the curves of her body, feeling the tremble of excitement beneath his fingertips. As their lips met in a tender kiss, they both felt the rush of passion surge through them, melting away any lingering doubts or inhibitions.

The first pieces of clothing were gone in mere seconds. Logan took off Y/N’s T-shirt, showing her exposed chest to his eyes. He licked his lips as his eyes observed her beautiful breasts. When Y/N took off Logan’s white tank top, her nails lightly scratched his chest, enjoying the feeling of him under her fingertips. Slowly, they undressed each other, savouring the unveiling of skin, each moment building the intensity of their connection.

Y/N expected that, at some point, Logan would become rougher and impatient. She was surprised when he took his time and didn’t rush things. His touches were gentle and loving as if she were a fragile doll that would break under his touch.

“You smell so good, princess,” he growled. His mouth wrapped around her hardened nipple and sucked on it. He was rewarded with a moan. He sucked on it, circled it with a tongue. When he let it with a pop, Logan looked at her, grinning. “Next time, I will fuck ya like the naughty girl I know you are.”

“Logan,” she whispered his name.

He continued to lavish attention on her breasts. His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, alternating between bites and licks that sent shivers down her spine. He loved how she responded to his attention – it only fueled his passion further.

The moans kept escaping Y/N’s lips after every touch, every stroke and lick. The sound of her moans and gasps filled the air, making Logan’s dick throb painfully.

He grabbed her by the waist and laid her down on the bed. He positioned himself between her legs. “What a beautiful view,” he commented, eyeing her naked upper body.

Her hands reached for the big belt he wore. Y/N unfastened it, unbuttoned the jeans and pulled down the zipper. She realised he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Y/N’s brows raised up, and she grinned at him. She was met with his semi-hard length begging to be taken out of the jeans.“You like going commando?”

“I was in a hurry,” he said, grinning.

Y/N took him out, stroking him slowly from tip to base. She felt him twitch under her touch. He had a nice dick - perfect length, veiny, and he trimmed his pubic hair around his penis and balls. She heard him moan and curse under his nose.

“Fuck, baby girl,” his eyes rolled into the back of his head when she squeezed him harder. He stopped her movements. Logan took her hand off his throbbing member. He brought the hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I want to be inside of you.”

Logan took off his jeans while his eyes remained on Y/N’s movements. He followed her hands - how they reached for the hem of her shorts. She took off the fabric with panties, and she exposed her pussy for his eyes to see. “Fuck,” he growled.

Once they were both naked, Logan positioned himself at the entrance of her wet pussy, looking down at her face with a mix of determination and desire burning in his eyes. He ran his thumb along her clit, making her squirm.

One last kiss before he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed in. He watched Y/N’s reaction carefully, seeing the way her face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. “Shit,” he cursed. “So tight.”

He started to move slowly, allowing their bodies to become one. Logan didn’t want to hurt her. His eyes were locked with hers with every move he made. He wanted to take his time, to savour every moment of being inside her, feeling her surround him completely.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Faster, Logan. Please.”

Hearing her pleas, Logan's feral instincts kicked in, and he responded by increasing the pace of his thrusts, driving into her tight pussy with forceful strokes. He watched her breasts bounce with every snap of his hips. “You are so fucking pretty like this,” he praised her.

Another loud moan escaped Y/N’s lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed him closer to her body, pressing her lips against his in a feverish kiss. It was sloppy and dirty, all tongue and teeth. One of his hands sneaked between their bodies. His thumb found her clit, and he started to toy with it.

Her walls clenched around his length. “Ah, fuck!” she gasped. “I’m so close.”

“Good, baby girl,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t hold up and come for me, pretty girl.”

He heard her cry out and felt her body tense as she approached climax. Logan increased the tempo of his movements even further, driving himself into her. He watched as Y/N reached her peak. Her eyes closed, walled gripped his cock tightly as waves of pleasure ran through her body.

Logan’s release followed a few seconds later. At the last moment, he pulled out and spilt his seed over her lower belly, grunting. “Ah, fuck, fuck,” he cursed.

Logan’s chest heaved with each laboured breath. The scent of sex and sweat filled the air around them as they lay there, spent and satisfied. Y/N turned her head to look at him. She watched as he breathed heavily. A smile appeared on her lips.

“Damn,” she whispered.

He turned his head, catching her eyes. Logan grinned at her. “That’s it?” he teased.

“I am speechless. Isn’t that enough?” Y/N winked at him. She rolled to her side, snuggling her naked body to his. Her fingers absentmindedly started to stroke his chest, brushing through some of the hairs.

Logan managed to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. “How are you feeling?”

Her eyes locked with his. “Happy,” she replied simply.

“How about one more round?” he suggested.

Y/N smacked his chest playfully. “Insatiable man.”

He grabbed her hand and led it down his body to his hard length. Y/N wrapped her fingers around his cock. “What can I say. I can’t get enough of you.”

She giggled. “Cheezy. Fine, one more round.”

“This time, you will ride me, pretty girl.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female rader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett x female reader smut #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Wolverine x reader smut #Wolverine x female reader smut #Marvel fanfiction #A touch of Hope #Logan Howlett smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months

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Hey🤍 may I please request a fluff/romantic or Bi Han. I know a lot of people don’t think he is capable of being romantic but a girl needs some fluff for Bi Han please. Maybe something were he is sweet and caring only towards reader and everyone else he is normal Bi Han. Love your writing thank you🤍

This got shoddy at the end of the drab. 🦦

You were lost within your own head for while when Bi-Han had appeared at your side, gingerly taking your hand within his own, drawing a gasp from your lips as you felt his cold fingers intertwine with yours. ‘Bi-Han. You’re here.’ You breathed out, smiling instantaneously upon being greeted with the beautiful dark eyes of the man you had happily promised your heart to. Your grasped his hand tighter, almost as though you were checking if he was actually with you, rather then some illusion you’ve coincidentally conjured up.

‘Of course I’m here, little bird.’ Bi-Han told you whilst pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting them linger there for a while before pulling away to gently rest his forehead against your own. His eyes locked on yours, as though he were fearful to look away in the instance that you wouldn’t be there when he looked back. ‘For I could never be content as to keep you waiting for longer then needed.’ He adds as he took this moment to ingrain you eternally within his mind, so that he may never forget who he was fighting for, who he was carving a better future for and who he would vigorously defend till his last breath escaped from him.

Gods did Bi-Han hate being separated from you for long periods of time, truly believing that one day Kuai Liang and Tomas would try to enact revenge for his supposed betrayal, by taking away the one person who gave him true purpose in this life; you. However he couldn’t completely disregard his duties as Grandmaster, for it would be sacrilege. Bi-Han was forever grateful that you never held that against him, and instead fully understand that he couldn’t fully commit to being your lover when there was so much work yet to be done.

‘If it was for you?’ You inquired. ‘I’d wait for as long as I must to see my beloved home safe and sound. So you needn’t worry in keeping me waiting.’ You finished as you then softly pecked his plush lips, cooing softly once pulling away from him, enjoying how Bi-Han fruitlessly attempted in following after your lips. For a man as cold as ice he was quite warm and gentle, but you knew he was only like this for you and you often times felt spoilt by being blessed to see this side of him; The side of him that would constantly hold you face in between his hands when checking you for injuries, his thumbs stroking the skin of your cheeks with such gentleness, as though he thought you were going to break. You even saw Bi-Han during his most stubborn and his most angriest of moments and yet still you called him the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met because to you that was the honest truth.

‘I just don’t want to wish you being bored of me when I come home.’ Bi-Han admitted softly. ‘You deserve a man who is willing to be at your beck and call, to be with you from the early hours of morning, to the later hours of night. You shouldn’t have to settle for less because you feel as though that’s all there is going for you, and instead you should strive for more for you deserve more, way more then any man could possibly give.’ Bi-Han truly meant what he said, he truly believed that you deserved better, never to tolerate less, for he felt like he wasn’t giving you all that he possibly could and it pained him greatly because you’ve him so much throughout the duration of your relationship.

Bi-Han only felt as it was only reasonable to give you an out shoulder you feel as though you weren’t being valued enough, as he always tended to put you and your well-being first and foremost in just about everything. But you saw what he was doing almost instantly and you weren’t about to allow Bi-Han to make a offer a solution that’ll only end up hurting the both of you because despite his tiering duties as Grandmaster, he was a dedicated, loyal and caring lover. You couldn’t have to ask for a better man and never would for Bi-Han was it for you, he was the one.

‘Bi-Han.’ You murmured, taking your free hand to hold his cheek, stroking it reassuringly as you watched him visibly relax within your hold, moving his head to kiss your inner wrist. ‘To be bored of you would be like to be bored of living for while you are a very busy man, you are the most attentive, sweet, caring man I have ever met.’ You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before brushing your nose against his, breathing him in as deep as you could. ‘Not once have you ever made me feel less important or less valued. Never. You made me feel worshiped, you made me feel loved, you always found room for me within your busy schedule, and I could never find a appropriate way to express my gratitude to you but I hope to everyday.’ You concluded, hoping that you had gotten your point across that you weren’t going anywhere without him.

‘You don’t need to express anything to me, my beloved,’ Bi-Han reassured you, kissing your inner wrist once more. ‘For the sole fact that you still being here with me despite all my flaws is the biggest gesture I could have ever received and I’m eternally thankful that you haven’t yet given up on me. Do it should be me expressing my gratitude, not you.’ Bi-Han finishes. ‘There’s no need for that.’ You assured him. ‘You’ve done enough and you’ve just gotten back from a long mission. You must be exhausted and in need of rest.’ You then began to pull Bi-Han towards your shared bed by his arm.

Bi-Han wasn’t one to complain, as it meant he got to make up for lost time by laying in your arms and leeching off of your warmth whilst putting his aching body to rest, something his soul had yearned to do the moment he return to the Lin Kuei. ‘That sounds perfect, little bird. That sounds perfect.’

#mk1 #mk imagine #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat 1 x reader #bi han imagine #bi han x you #bi han x y/n #bi han x reader #bi han imagines #sub zero x reader

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 7 months

Text

Holiday - BTS OT7 CEO AU Bonus Chapter 14.5

Sorry for being MIA my loves, life for the moment has calmed slightly, who knows what it has in store tomorow. Just a note, I'm no longer doing taglists as theyre too hard to keep up with and I am trying to avoid stress. Sorry about that I hope this goofy chapter makes up for it <3

4.6K words of the italy trip with the troublesome trio. Warnings: Smut, jealousy, sex implied as a weapon (for revenge), edging, possesive behavior, orgasm denial, money (yes this is a warning it made me swoon)

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THURSDAY

Seven hours into the flight was when what you dreaded happened. The private jet had wifi, and a part of you thought you were going to be safe from the older CEOs if they couldn’t reach you with your mobile on airplane mode, but when it rings thousands of miles in the air, your heart drops. The maknaes eyes all dart to the ringing device in your hand, as you contemplate answering it, but before you can make a decision, it's snatched from your hold.

“Good evening Hyung,” Taehyung answers smugly. You try reaching for it but he keeps it out of reach.

“Put it on speaker,” Jimin whispers, pressing his ear to the otherside of the phone while Jungkook holds you back from fighting them for it.

You don’t know what’s said on the other line but Taehyung’s eyes pierce through you, an almost villainous look on his face.

“We came to flower’s favourite place,” the smirk on his face is dangerous and you knew he wasn’t thinking clearly about the repercussions by taunting them.

“Tae,” you say warningly, holding your hand out for the phone, not that you would fare better with talking to them.

“We’d be waiting for you for a while Hyung,” he snickers cruelly, not a side of him you saw very often at all, but when there was a vendetta or score involved, it didn’t matter who it was up against, Taehyung would betray his own flesh and blood for revenge.

Okay, maybe that was a little far-fetched even in your own mind, but you remember the company sports day, the first and last, where your seemingly innocent boyfriend betrayed Jimin, his closest bestest friend/soulmate, to win, and no one saw it coming. There was a major fall out before everyone started betraying each other in the subsequent races and Namjoon decided that never again would the company have another competing event. The moral of the story? Never underestimate Kim Taehyung.

“We’ve decided to go on an impromptu holiday for the weekend.”

The grin on his face at whatever is said on the other line is nothing short of evil. He was going to get you killed with this, now you understood why the idiom was about being thrown under the bus, this felt like a damn car crash and you hadn’t even arrived at your destination. Maybe when you landed you could just fly back and apologise.

“Have a good weekend Hyung.”

He ends the call and passes you back your phone as if he hadn’t just declared world war three! Jungkook finally lets you go and stretches in the aisle, laughing with the other two while you bite your bottom lip nervously. They wouldn’t blame you if you said the maknaes had kidnapped you, would they?

Your phone rings in your hand again, this time with Yoongi’s caller ID, you quickly answer it before they notice, not even able to say hello before an angry voice greets you.

“Y/n where the fuck have they taken you?” Yoongi growls through the line.

“We’ve… I’ve,” you swallow down your nerves, “Italy…?”

You say it like a question that answers everything, but you really didn’t know how else to respond.

"Kitten, you just agreed to these brats? You didn't think to tell us first?"

“Yoongi,” you whine, “please don’t be mad, it’s just… they just-”

Your phone flies out of your hand, you were too focused on the call to notice the troublesome trio caught on.

“What-” you gasp, not realising straight away what had happened. “Jungkook! That’s my phone, give it back!”

But he doesn’t, even as you fight him for it. Instead he looks at you like he’s berating you for ruining their masterplans, holding it way above your head as you jump for it, trying to pull his arm down.

“I think we should hold onto this for a little while, bunny,” he says sternly, “you obviously can’t be trusted.”

“Jeon Jungkook give me back my phone,” you scowl.

“Nope,” his lips pop.

“Angel, the whole point in this revenge plot is to deny the Hyungs access to you, we can’t have you calling them, it defeats the point,” Jimin lectures you as if you were dense which only makes you scowl more.

“Oh they’ll have access,” Taehyung smirks, the evil glint in his eyes still present and unsatiated. “But only when we want them to.”

FRIDAY

Arriving at the apartment yesterday (if you could call it that it was more like a villa), quelled your worry over the others, it was too beautiful to think of anything else. When Taehyung told you they bought it, it took a while for your jaw to come off the ground. How they had done it in such a short amount of time you would never know, but the happy way they showed you around, holding you, soft kisses as you smiled, made you completely forget about the purpose of this visit, until of course they woke you up before the sunrise with needy kisses.

“It’s too early,” you whine incoherently, but somehow they understood you.

“Blame Mr mastermind,” Jimin yawns, although the way Jungkook’s undressing you has his bottom half stirring the rest of him awake.

“It has to be now if we want our gift to arrive on time,” Taehyung chuckles deeply, something akin to what you imagine a classic maniacal tv villain to sound like.

“Oh yes,” you scoff, “I forgot I’m just a means for revenge.” You always got caught in the middle of their rivalry, you just didn’t expect it to sting so much this time around, like you were being used. You try to go back to sleep, having had enough of this ridiculous childish behaviour, but Taehyung pulls you up by your arm until you're sitting upright in front of him.

“Our love for you flower,” he mumbles, pushing your hair out of your face, searching your face earnestly, reading your insecurities like a book, “and our punishment for the hyungs are two very separate matters…”

Something ice cool touches your neck, making you shiver violently in your sleepy state.

Jungkook’s arms wrap around you from behind, trying to keep your nearly naked form warm, while Taehyung’s fingers on your nape clasp what you realise now is a choker.

“This holiday is just one stone to deal with them both,” his fingers tilt up your chin so he can show Jimin the sparkle of a hundred diamonds adorning your neck.

“Perfect,” the eldest of the trio hums in approval before mumbling, “as they say, revenge is best served cold.”

He smirks, eyes darting down your body as Jungkook starts kissing your neck, both the chill of the piece and the warmth of your skin touching his lips.

“The recording…” It’s hard to concentrate on Taehyung’s words when the maknae’s fingers dance around your waist, his arms holding you tighter against him. He’s already hard and it’s all your body wants to focus on, but Tae distracts you when you notice the phone in his hand.

“...is for them,” there’s glint of mischief in his eyes, a devilish smirk, “this,” his fingers trace the line of priceless jewels embellishing his beautiful flower, “is for us.”

—

You can see why they say revenge is an act of passion as your fingertips grip the bed sheets for dear life, open mouth moaning into the mattress beneath you. Your body’s splayed out for his pleasure, his thrusts unrelenting.

“I can see why Namjoon Hyung favours this position,” Jungkook moans out, palm on your back holding you down. “Fuck Baby girl your squeezing me so tight.”

There’s a sadistic chuckle from his lips as he watches his dick slide in and out. He pushes back in deeper, harder, pressing his chest to your back, the angle hitting new spots that made you want to scream.

“You’re wetting my dick so well,” he murmurs into your ear seductively, just for you to hear, covering you with his whole body, wanting to feel you everywhere. He can feel you breathing hard with the way he smothers you,

Your hand clamps over your mouth, earning a displeased grunt from Jungkook before he bites down on your shoulder in warning.

“Kitten don’t cover your mouth,” Jimin taunts, forcing your hand away with his grip tight around your wrist, watching you bite your lips so hard they might bleed. “Let the Hyungs hear you.”

“She really does look like a kitten with that choker,” Taehyung’s signature deep lilt rumbles, his voice full of amusement. His thumb pulls your bottom lip until it's released from your teeth, little gasps escaping as you try to keep quiet knowing they were recording you. Even if the thought turned you on so much you were extra sensitive to their touch, you wanted them to hear you, wanted to moan their names too but that would be too cruel wouldn’t it? And Taehyung wouldn’t be too pleased with that either.

“Come on beautiful girl let them hear you,” Jungkook orders gutturally, leaning back before his palm spanks your ass hard before returning to your hip, the slap heard sharp through the air followed by your delicious whines. His grip is bruising as he picks up the pace, wanting to elicit more out of you. The harder he fucks you the more his Hyung’s will hear, the thought makes his dumb fucked out grin wider.

“Don’t call her you know what,” Jimin laughs, the punishment of this was enough for Hobi he was sure, but he couldn’t feel entirely sorry for him when he was one of the perpetrators that locked him out. “Hoseok Hyungs scary when he’s pissed.”

“He didn’t call her a good girl so he’s exempt,” Taehyung mumbles, almost losing himself to the show you and Jungkook were performing, his heel pressing against his aching length so hard he bites back a groan. Jimin was faring no better, hands in his pants, eyes drunk on how Junkook played with you like his own fuckdoll, you could do nothing but lie there and take it.

“Ah Kookie right there,” you almost scream, the head of Jungkook’s cock was stroking your G-spot making your toes curl, your mouth hanging open, saliva dripping down your lips. “O-oh fuck!”

Your clit was begging to be touched to push you over, but your limbs were too busy keeping you somewhat steady so you didn’t go crashing into the headboard or falling off the bed. You doubt Jungkook would stop even if you did.

“Baby girl if you want to cum…” Taehyung says with a sinister smug smirk, as if he could hear your thoughts, “... call Jungkook daddy.”

You whimper in protest, shaking your head vehemently, not wanting to. It was a step too far, you eyed the device in front of you recording away, as if Namjoon was right there listening now. You wouldn’t do that to him, even if your being was screaming at you to do as Tae said just to taste a fucking orgasm.

“Tsk, bad flower,” Taehyung grumbles, looking annoyed that you wouldn’t behave for his masterplan. “Hyung deserves to be punished.”

He smooths the hair away from your face, leaning down close to you as Jungkook eased his pounding a smidge, edging both of you. It was so close.

“Be a good girl hmmm,” Tae grunts in your ear, trying to be persuasive, using that name against you, “call Jungkook daddy.”

You shake your head again in refusal at his command, you wouldn’t. The hand in your hair slides down your neck, a finger hooking on the back of your choker, tugging hard, a warning to behave. The pressure on your neck made you go dizzy, the rim of gems almost cutting, eyes rolling back as you let out a guttural moan. You meet his now dark gaze, a shiver down your spine has you seconds away cumming, but it seemed the punishment to the older CEOs now extended to you.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung sighs in disappointment and the cock that was pounding into you now disappears with a groan. You feel your walls pulsate against nothing, the emptiness almost painful, but all Taehyung does is kiss your tears as they slip down, letting go of you so your head hits the mattress again, and stopping the recording as he throws the phone aside. He could always edit the audio anyway.

You feel a wetness on your back, the sounds of the maknae fisting his cock until his load shoots all over you.

“Should we send a picture with the recording?” He smirks looking down at you knowing how much his favourite hyungs would appreciate such a beautiful view. Jungkook turns you on your back, peering down at you with love in his eyes but a smile so devilish. “What do you think bunny?”

You don’t even know what he’s on about, words unable to enter your ears with the way they were pounding, your clit throbbing with the need to be touched, your pussy weeping.

“Wanna cum,” you whine, thighs rubbing together searching for some sort of friction.

“Aww Angel wants to cum?” Jimin coos as you squirm before he snickers, glancing at Taehyung’s stone face knowing you weren't going to get there for a while regardless of how much you’d beg and plead. There was a reason Taehyung’s previous partners would call him a tiger in bed, the man could flip a switch in a second, his duality constantly pulling and pushing his partners to and from the edge. Right now, the oldest maknae could see the displeasure of your disobedience in his eyes, the air around him turning dangerous. It was going to be a long day.

—

“I’m surprised you can stand,” Jimin’s teasing voice pulls you out of your reverie. How long were you staring at this painting for? You lost yourself to it.

“No thanks to you,” you mutter, eyes still on the soft brushstrokes on the canvas in front of you. At least they let you sleep before your sight seeing, the Europeans had it right, naps in the afternoon should be the law.

“You’ve been staring at this one for an hour,” Jimin exaggerates with a pout, trying to figure out what was holding your attention. “And Taehyung’s been staring at you.”

At this you turn around to find indeed your devious mastermind boyfriend staring a hole into your back, normally you’d feel his eyes on you but not today. He didn’t like that, he just kept his gaze on you intensely, trying to telepathically get you to notice him but it didn’t work.

“Who could blame him?” Jimin smirks suggestively, “all these famous paintings and they don’t hold a candle to my angel.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from him and the disgusting amount of cheese he was spewing, trying to locate the last of the troublesome trio. You find Jungkook also enjoying the actual art in the gallery, you were honestly surprised Tae wasn’t with him, this was typically his scene.

“Kookie, do you like this one?” you ask him, taking his hand in yours as you walked past a statue he spent a few more seconds on than the others.

“Mmmm,” he hums absentmindedly, “the detail’s amazing.”

He sighs in wonder, round eyes admiring the next one in line.

“I need to know how they made it.”

“You want to make one too?” you jest, smiling at him endearingly as he continued to stare.

“I want to make one of you,” he confesses so easily, making your organs somersault. You try not to let your jaw drop.

“You’re ridiculous,” you breathe, laughing as you pull him away from the exhibit.

You head back towards the paintings, only to find Taehyung staring intently at your favourite one as if he was ready to start a war with it. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did considering his current regime for vengeance. You frown when someone in a business suit greets him with a handshake, wondering how the two knew each other. The conversation, whatever it was about, looks deep, and your curiosity wants you to eavesdrop.

“Angel lets go to the gift shop,” Jimin grabs your other hand, steering you away before you walk over to Taehyung.

“Who’s Tae talking to?” You ask, trying to catch a glimpse of the pair as Jimin pulls you and Jungkook in tow.

“Just business,” he replies, not really answering the question at all.

—

Taehyung’s heart is in his throat when they deliver it. It’s the evening, he was hoping you wouldn't be back until after the delivery, but you were so worried about his despondency, especially when he left the three of you and came back to the apartment alone. You had to force Jimin and Jungkook to end the dinner plans early, opting for take out instead. They had to listen to you when you threatened to find Taehyung without them.

“What… what is this?” You gasp, jaw on the floor as they uncover it. No fucking way, nope, no, he didn’t…… for fuck sake he did, you stare incredulously at him, knowing exactly who was behind the purchase. “Kim Taehyung you did not.”

He swears he could see the steam leave your ears and flared nostrils. Even the men from the gallery glanced at you both in worry, contemplating waiting to see if you were going to murder him before they made their leave.

“Flower-”

“Return it.” There was no room for argument in your tone, but argue with you he would.

“Flower,” he says again patiently, “I wanted it for you.”

Jimin and Jungkook were hiding in the other room praying for Taehyung’s survival, while simultaneously hiding from you. They warned Taehyung about the consequences, you had already made explicit rules about stuff like this, and you never took it well when they broke them.

“Taehyung, I don't even want to think about how much it cost, or it's going to make me sick,” you say, actually feeling nauseous and slightly dizzy. This was overwhelming, he was overwhelming.

He sighs before approaching you, fingers stroking your sides to try and calm you, but your arms are crossed in front of you like a barricade.

“The cost doesn’t matter,” he says, pressing a finger to your lips before you can fight with him, his forehead leaning on yours, eyes beseeching you. “I want to spoil you, why won’t you let me?”

You exhale exasperated.

“It’s too much,” your jaw ticks, he wasn’t going to win this one. “It’s ridiculously too much!”

“Says who?” he asks you, smiling softly despite your anger. He caresses your face with both hands, holding you so delicately as if you were the million-billion euro-pound-won painting. You couldn’t think of the cost, you just couldn't, you would implode.

“Tae-”

“I love you, I wanted to buy it for you,” a gentle kiss to your nose has your defences shaking, doubled with the gentle lilt in his voice. “My perfect flower deserves the world, why can’t I buy her a part of it, hmmm?”

“You just can’t,” but your own voice starts to match his in volume, and he has to stop himself from grinning in premature victory.

“But I want to,” the softest kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “You deserve more, why won’t you let us spoil you?”

“Tae,” you sigh, eyes starting to water, it was too much, your heart was so full you could feel it in your chest. You couldn’t accept this, he bought you the painting you were staring at for fuck sake, it was beyond ridiculous, he shouldn’t have.

“I am grateful for the sentiment, but you have to return it,” you say as he shakes his head in refusal, “please.”

“No,” he replies simply, you weren’t going to win this one. “I know you love it, and I want you to have it, that’s it.”

You sniffle, tears starting to drop which he wipes away.

“But it's too much,” you wail, making him want to laugh at how precious you look.

“You said that already,” he pulls you into his embrace, your arms uncrossing to wrap around him.

“B-but youdun e-even k-now why I like it-” he can barely understand with you gasping for breath between words as you sobbed.

He should feel bad for making you cry but you were so adorable he couldn’t help laughing a little. He kisses the side of your head, smiling as you mumble against him, trying to fight but you already lost.

SATURDAY

“Why did you bring your laptop on holiday!” Jimin groans as he walks into the bedroom to find you sitting crossed legged on the bed, furiously typing away.

“I just have one more thing to finish…” you mumble without glancing at him.

“Bunny you seriously have issues,” Jungkook mutters, Jimin turning in surprise to see him on the armchair, chin in his hand, elbow on the arm rest, staring at you as if you were some weird enigma.

“We brought you to your favourite place on Earth,” Jimin exclaims dramatically, trying to close the laptop but you take it away from his reach. “And you’re working?”

“Two seconds, just two more.”

Jimin sighs, fingers raking through his hair as he stands with his hands on his hips ready to berate you before he realises someone was missing.

“Where’s Taehyung?”

The maknae shrugs, but this question makes you look up from the screen like a meerkat.

“Huh?” You look at the end of the bed, as if you’re expecting him to be there. “He was just there…”

You shrug to yourself, sure he was somewhere having fun, turning back to the laptop with intent while Jimin looks at you incredulously. Fine he’ll give you your two seconds but he isn’t happy about it. He starts pacing in front of you, arms crossed and huffing, but it does nothing to deter your work or gain him any attention.

It’s when his legs start aching that he’s decided you’ve had long enough.

“Angel put it away before I throw it out the window,” he warned, but you completely ignore him as if he didn’t say a word. Is this how flies felt when they buzzed incessantly around the room screaming for attention… did he really compare himself to a fly… he couldn’t help making the comparison, you were the one to make him feel so insignificant and he flew you to Italy for pete's sake. He marches towards you, not really wanting to resort to violence but you weren’t budging. “Fine, have it your way.”

“You guys took my phone, don’t touch my laptop,” you warn when he takes another step closer.

“You were gonna call them!”

“And you’ve had your fun and gotten your revenge, let me just finish this.”

“You said two seconds, IT'S BEEN TWO HOURS,” he yells, exasperated.

“It’s been twenty minutes,” you scoff as if that was any better.

“Are they working you too hard?” Jungkook interrupts asking you bluntly, having watched your session since near the start, he thinks he's deciphered the reason behind it.

You hesitate, swallowing around nothing. Why did that question make you nervous?

“Nothing I’m not used to,” you reply, it’s not like working with them was any easier.

“So yes they are,” Jimin confirms. “Yesterday you were enjoying this impromptu holiday, today you look like you’re going to fight us if we try and take you outside.”

“We will take you outside eventually, bunny,” Jungkook adds, “kicking and screaming if we have to.”

“What changed angel?” Jimin narrows his eyes.

You try and avoid their gazes, confession on the tip of your tongue at their interrogation but their judgement holds you back,

“Spill angel,” Jimin stands with his arms crossed, voice firm.

You groan, falling head first into the duvet as if you could bury your response there forever.

“It’s stupid,” you mumble against the fabric.

“What did she say?”

“Fuck knows,” Jungkook frowns.

You sigh, picking yourself up in defeat.

“I had a nightmare last night,” you mutter, making things no clearer for the two as they look at each other in question. “About work…”

There’s a beat of silence as your confession sinks in.

“Taehyung's right…” Jimin says as if he’s come to an epiphany, “you really are a good girl.”

You feel your cheeks burn, trying not to let your jaw fall slack as the oldest maknae grins, laughing at you softly.

“It’s not funny,” you say to the pair as the youngest also decides to cackle too. “They found out I skipped work and then started yelling at me and it scared the shit out of me okay.”

But your words only make them laugh harder, Jimin characteristically falling to the floor as he holds his stomach. You roll your eyes, trust them to understand.

“I’m gonna go find Tae,” you mumble, slamming your laptop shut and exiting the room while they try and fail to control themselves.

“Wait, we're coming with you,” Jimin calls after you, still laughing loudly, the corners of his mouth almost touching his ears.

Maybe they were right, maybe you did need to enjoy yourself while you could, who knew what work had in store for you when you went back. There was nothing you could do about that, but there was something you could do now.

You find your target looking at the painting he bought from the gallery yesterday, the one you still couldn’t believe was hanging on the wall of your holiday home. If Taehyung didn’t have the money to buy it you’re sure he would’ve stolen it for you instead. For some reason you could picture him being an art thief in another life.

He was staring so intently, it was as if the roles had reversed from yesterday, his eyes darting around each pigment on the canvas trying to decipher it. The way you had paid it attention almost made him jealous, so of course he had to buy it for you, at least to try and figure out why you loved it at first sight.

“Hey tiger,” you greet him gleefully, and he’s more than happy to look at you instead. He grins when you wink at him flirtily like Jin does to you from time to time, but you do it more dramatically, eyebrows dancing as you approach him.

“Tiger?” he chuckles, that one was new from you, but he didn’t mind it even if it was tainted from lovers past.

You grab his arm with both hands, tugging him gently towards you, a silent plea to follow you, and he would, absolutely anywhere if you asked. The other two aren’t far behind, but your focus is solely on him, and he can’t help but burst with pride, his chest inflating like a superhero film cliche. You looked at him with far more love than that stupid painting, he didn’t feel as much envy towards it as before.

“I wanna take you somewhere special,” you whisper to him, eyes imploring up at him, how could he ever refuse. “It’s my favourite cafe, but don’t tell the others, shh.”

You playfully press your finger to your lips, as if sharing a secret with him. He bites his bottom lip hard to stop from laughing out loud but his boxy grin is stretched wide across his face.

“What about us?” Jimin whines as you purposefully ignore him, Jungkook’s jaw ticking with jealousy when you pull Taehyung with you.

“You laughed at me, I’m not taking you anywhere,” you reply childishly, sticking your tongue out at him with your nose in the air as they continue to bicker with you.

This really was your favourite place on Earth.

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

#bts series #bts au #bts au fanfic #bts ceo!au #bts ceo au #bts ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #taehyung au #taehyung x reader #jimin fic #jimin x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts ot7 au

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selfloverrrrrr · 26 days

Note

Home invader Gojo, noncon and degradation kink pls

You're alone...?

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, home invader Gojo, Mafia Au....

Summary: Gojo and Sukuna are rivals. Sukuna pulled Gojo's trigger without any reason now Gojo came to take revenge....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Mafia world is full of danger. But Mafias love playing with danger. Actually their life based on danger..... There were so many mafia families. But there were two most powerful families. One is Ryomen family another one is Gojo family. They were equally powerful and were rivals. They always fight with each other to take the most powerful's place. The head of Ryomen family is Ryomen Sukuna and the head of Gojo family is Gojo Satoru.

Ryomen Sukuna did a bomb blast in one of Gojo's drug selling company. Sukuna is my brother. My own brother. Sukuna was watching the news of the bomb blast he did. Watching the news and smirking. I just came down from the second floor, from my room and saw Sukuna watching news. "What are you watching" I asked and sit beside him on the couch. "Progress" he replied with the smirk.

"you did that?" I asked. "Who else gonna do?" He asked looking at me. " Why did you do that without any reason?" I asked. "Well sis, that's not a reasonless .... I did that because Gojo was trying to be the powerful again...so yeah " he replied. "That's not a reason tho.... but whatever, I don't care " I replied. "Oh?..." Sukuna said and started tickle me "I know my sister doesn't care about anything " he said with a smile and tickle me more. "Ahahaha... stop....ahahahaha Sukuna stop " I said between laughs. He finally stopped.

"you're an ass" I said. He smirked at me. "Oh... I forgot to tell you... I'm going out for a dealing tonight gonna return tomorrow night" Sukuna said. "Okey... and can you call your special jeweller? I was thinking about making a new diamond earrings" I said. "Okey...miss Ryomen" He replied.

Sukuna went for his deal that night. I was home alone now. Actually not alone there were some bodyguards with. Ofcourse Sukuna won't leave me without any protection. Being Mafia's sister is dangerous too. Doesn't matter if I have done anything or not life is still risky.

At Gojo's office:

Gojo was sitting on the chair of his office. Clenching his jaw. He banged his hand on the table infront of him. " That son of a bitch trying to play with fire huh? This fire gonna fucking burn him!!!" Gojo said with grinded teeth. Everyone was silent infront of him. " Just oder us , sir....we gonna end him" yuta said and everyone agreed with him. "Nuh... not gonna order this time... wanna do this with my own hands" Gojo said and went up from his chair.

Gojo's POV

It was night time. I went to that motherfucker's house. Already security out. I just walked inside normally because my gang members killed all the security of the outside. Going inside there were bodyguard as normal. I took out my gun and started shooting. All members of my gang are shooting too. Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Nanami, Nobara and Maki. Everyone shooting. My guards were shooting too. But something seemed suspicious. After so many shooting sounds Sukuna didn't came? Strange!... Did he run? Doesn't seem like. All guards were killed now. "So so so ..... Where is the great Ryomen Sukuna? Is he sceared now.... bitch you started this shit... now fucking come out!!!" I scremed. But still no response.

End of Gojo's POV

Y/n's POV :

I was listening music in my room. Earphones were in my ear. There's a bell in my room. If I press the button the bell will ring and servent or someone gonna come. I was feeling hungry. So I pressed the button. Few minutes passed still no one came. I took off my earphone and pressed the button again. Still no response.... 'why ain't they coming?' I thought. I got out of my room and rushed down floor. "Why aren't any of you answerin-" I couldn't complete my sentence when I saw the dead bodies every where.

There were some people standing there. One guy with blonde hair, a girl with short brown hair, a girl with green hair, a guy with black spike hair, a guy with pink hair, a guy with black hair and then a tall guy with white hair and blue eyes. I know him. He's none other than Gojo Satoru. Our rival. They all looked at me hearing my voice.

My eyes widened. I couldn't say anything with fear. "Who's that?" Gojo asked. "That's Sukuna's sister, Mr.Gojo" Nanami said. Gojo again looked at me. "Oh... I see...it seems like that bitch isn't at home rn" Gojo said. I started going upwards back to my room slowly. " Lemme take care of Miss Ryomen... you all go to other side " Gojo said with a smirk. They all gave him a smirk back.

I didn't look at any where and run towards the bedroom. I could hear him running behind me. As I went into the bedroom I turned and closed the door. But Gojo didn't let it shut. He grabbed it from other side and pushed it. He pushed the door with more pressure. I was pushing the door from the other side. But didn't take much time for Gojo to come inside. As he came inside my heart beat fasten. He closed the door and locked it.

He came towards me and hold me tightly close to him. "P-please let me go.... I don't wanna die... please don't kill me " I said with shaking voice. "Oh don't worry.... I'm not gonna kill you sweetheart " He said with a smirk. One of his hand started squeezing my ass. It striked in my mind what was he going to do " no no... p-please no" I said. " shhhh.... you should relax..." He said. " Your brother did something... and I already gave him his gift for that.... I should give you something too" He said smirking at me. "Please no..." I panicked.

He started dragging me towards my bed. Then He threw me on his bed. Fear grabbed me by my neck. Gojo started crawling towards me. " S-stop..... please stop" I said. I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed me by my leg and pulled me back on the bed. " I'm begging you....please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.

He started undressing me. I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He almost took off my clothes. I was just left in my panties. Gojo started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.

When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Gojo please...." I begged again but he didn't listen to me. He bring his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Oh...someone is wet~.... so you're liking being a slut huh?" he whispered with a smirk.

He took off his pant. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. "What slut? Thinking can't take it?" He said. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " Gojo Gojo no.... please no .... Gojo please no... It's too big.... it's not gonna fit." I sobbingly begged him. " Shhhhhh ..... Sluts doesn't talk too much.... so you should accept what I'm doing " He whispered in my ear.

" P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. "Look at yourself whore....fucking clenching around my dick like a whore you are" With a few more thurst I came. He again smirked at me. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Shhh.... shut up and just fucking take what I'm giving you." He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. Then He pulled out.

"my....m-my brother's gonna kill you" I said before passing out. "He should care about himself first princess" Gojo said picking me up in bridal style.

Sukuna's POV:

I just arrived home. I opened the door. " Hey sis, I talked with the jweller about your diamo-" I couldn't finish my words. I saw dead bodies and bloods all over my house. I slowly took out my gun. "...sis?" I said. I was slowly going towards y/n's room. The door was closed. I opened the door and point the gun. No one was there. 'where is y/n?' I thought. Then I saw a envelope on the bed. I went towards it and took it. I opened the envelope. My blood started boiling. There's a picture of Gojo fucking y/n. This mother fucker!!!!! When I saw the backside of the photo there was written *Did you liked the gift?*"I'm gonna fucking kill this son of a bitch!!!!!!!!!" I scremed.

Part-2

I hope you liked it... leave a comment 💕

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💗

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writerslittlelibrary · 8 months

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You should make one where Wanda and nat get taken by the snap and it leaves there 14 year old daughter for her to grow up alone, later when they return there surprised to see her grow up at first they dont even recognize her because she turns out to be a cold badass. You can add some angst of her not being able to trust them and so on. But over time there family dynamic falls back but they notice y/n is hiding something because she always disappears and is seen talking on the phone. One night they think they hear talk in y/n’s room so they wait a few hours before they check it out and its y/n being super cute with her gf. she introduce her gf who helped her through the snap.

5 years is a long time

masterlist requests masterlist

pairing: WandaNat x daughter reader

warnings: grieve, loss, pain

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2093

a/n: thank you so much anon for the request. I love the idea and I hope you like it 🫶

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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Tears. That’s all you remember. The endless crying of that night. Your moms had told you they had to leave for a while to fight an important battle. They told you they would be back. They lied.

You remember Steve coming to your home. The home you grew up in. The home you three had lived in for your entire life. You were excited when you heard the door open. You thought your moms had returned. They hadn’t.

Steve was standing in the door opening, and the look on his face alone was enough to make you cry. So that’s what you did. For the entire night you did nothing but cry. You couldn’t believe your moms would break their promise. You couldn’t believe your moms would never hold you again.

Steve had taken you out of your home that night. He said he wanted you to stay with him, so you would be safe. He told you it’s what your moms would’ve wanted, but you had no interest in listening to him. You didn’t sleep that night. What happened wouldn’t leave your brain. You were devastated.

After a few weeks in the compound, you had started feeling angry. The first few days you felt numb, and you supposed feeling angry was better than that, but in reality it wasn’t.

You would ignore Steve. You wouldn’t eat or take care of yourself. All you could be was angry, and you and Steve fought all the time. After two months, you decided to leave. You were a few weeks away from your fifteenth birthday, and Steve was trying to get you excited for it, but you didn’t want to be.

Usually, you would be so excited you couldn’t sleep, but this time you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Steve talked about it non-stop, and you just couldn’t take it. What was the point in celebrating your birthday if the most important people wouldn't be there?

That was when you decided to leave.

You found an apartment in Seattle, wanting to be as far away from the compound as you could. That’s where you lived for the past 5 years. You were 19 now, and your life was different than it was when the snap happened.

You used your training to kill. You found that killing people was the only way to ease your anger, ease your thirst for revenge.

You weren’t proud of it. How could you? Your moms had taught you how to fight to protect, not hurt. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, however. Your moms were gone. There was no reason in thinking about what they would or wouldn’t agree with.

You were currently sitting on your couch, cleaning some of your knives. You had another successful assignment yesterday and you were exhausted. There was a lot of commotion in the world, and your assignments were flooding. It seemed that suddenly everyone wanted each other dead. You didn’t know why, but then again, you didn’t follow the news.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at your door. Besides Charlie, no one knew where you lived, and she wasn’t set to come home for another few days.

Hesitantly, you opened your door, and you almost broke at the sight.

In front of you were two people. Two people who you believed you’d never see again. Wanda gasped, clearly shocked by the wounds you carried on your face. Maybe the fact you’d grown 5 years shocked her too. Natasha just stared. She couldn’t believe it. Their little girl was all grown up, but that isn’t what shocked them the most.

The emptiness in your eyes did.

Wanda made the first move to hug you, and in your shock you didn’t react. You hadn’t thought this day would ever come, and now it did.

Natasha seemed to snap out of her shock, moving to embrace you as well.

They cried. You didn’t.

When they moved into your apartment you were quick to clean the knives from your coffee table. You were afraid of how they would react. You knew they would be disappointed, but you just weren’t ready for a lecture of them yet.

Natasha and Wanda stayed in your guest room, and much like the night you lost them, you were awake. You couldn’t sleep, and you knew they wouldn’t be able to either.

The next day Natasha and Wanda had convinced you to move back into their apartment. They kept telling you how sorry they were for leaving, and how they wanted to make up for all the years they lost. You agreed, moving back into your childhood home. You didn’t know how you’d react if they ever were to return, but you never expected to feel so… numb.

You had lived together for a few days now, and you had a hard time trusting them. You fought a few times already, mainly with Natasha. You refused to call them mom and mama again. You just couldn’t. Wanda was just trying to be there for you, while Natasha was more set on getting answers.

You were frustrated. You couldn’t provide your moms with any answers. You didn’t have any.

Last night you and Natasha fought again, and she yelled at you saying she couldn't recognise you anymore. You were lost. You didn’t know how to react.

All those nights you wished your moms would return to you, and wishing things would go back to the way they were. Now you wished things would go back to the way they were after they disappeared. You didn’t want to face them, and living with them again after so many years proved to be much more difficult than you initially thought.

Most nights you spend in your room, talking to the only person that stayed the same through all of it.

You spoke to Charlie most nights. She was the only person you had found comfort with all this time. The only person you felt you could trust, and the only person you felt you could be yourself around.

Charlie lost both of her parents in the snap as well, and when you were on an assignment one day to kill a dangerous man, you had found Charlie in one of the rooms in his house.

She was locked up, and she looked sick. You had taken her home with you, caring for her wounds. She didn’t speak much, only thanking you when appropriate. You didn’t mind much. You were happy you could still do some good. You were both 17 at the time, and you grew close quickly.

Charlie had told you what happened. How she lost her parents and the man had taken her. You offered her to stay with you, and she agreed. You grew closer quickly, and your friendship soon developed into something more.

Charlie was the only person you cared about. The only person you could be yourself around. The only person you loved through those years.

Charlie had reminded you of your humanity, and she never scolded you for doing what you did.

It’s funny, really. All those nights you spend on your own, in the bed of your new apartment, you longed to be laying in your own bed, with your moms downstairs. Now, while you were lying in the bed of your childhood home, with your moms downstairs, you longed for the nights in your own apartment. Spend watching movies and eating cheap take out with Charlie.

You hadn’t told your moms about Charlie yet. You didn’t know how to. You didn’t know you wanted to.

Your moms were downstairs, discussing your behavior. Wanda was crying. She felt so incredibly hurt by the fact you called her ‘Wanda’ now. She missed the days you called her mommy. When you would come running downstairs all excited because you had a random thought you felt like Wanda should know.

Her and Natasha were talking about how you seemed so closed off. So cold. How you were always in your room and how it seemed like you were hiding something.

Tonight, while you were on a call with Charlie, Natasha had decided to check on you, wanting to talk to you about their concerns. When she reached your room, she could hear you talking to someone. She decided not to knock on the door, instead opening it to see you lying on your bed, with your back turned to the door. You didn’t notice she was standing there, to captivated by your phone call.

You were giggling, and Natasha wasn’t sure when she last heard you laugh.

Natasha just stood there, soaking up your happiness. When you ended the phone call, you told Charlie ‘I love you’, which didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha.

When you turned around you were startled, and when you released Natasha was eavesdropping you were upset.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha told you, and you sighed, sitting up in your bed. Natasha sat at the end of your bed, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by sitting too close. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen you laugh.”

“I’m sorry too,” you told her, not wanting to look at her.

“I understand it must’ve been hell for you, and it must have been so confusing, even now we’re back. It’s confusing for us too. A few weeks ago you were our little 14 year old girl, and now you’re all grown up. I’m sorry we don’t know how to help you, and I’m sorry we weren’t there,” Natasha told you with tears in her eyes.

You sniffled and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been a terrible daughter. I was never mad at you. I’m just so angry, and I didn’t know how to handle that,” you explained to her, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Natasha pulled you into a hug, the first you’d had since the night they returned. You cried together, and Wanda, who probably heard the crying, came upstairs and sat next to you on the other side.

You kept crying, repeating ‘I’m sorry’ until you were so tired you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

You fell asleep in their arms, and when you woke up, they were still there.

You had all moved down to the kitchen for breakfast, and for the first time in 5 years, you were eating breakfast together, talking. There was no tension, no crying, no fighting and no yelling. Just talking.

“So who was that girl on the phone yesterday?” Natasha suddenly asked you.

You looked up at her quickly, surprised with her question. “What?” you asked her confused. “Yesterday you were talking on the phone with a girl. You seemed really happy.”

You looked at your plate, pushing the leftover fruit around on it. “We’re not mad, just curious,” Wanda told you. “Her name’s Charlie. She’s kinda my girlfriend,” you told your moms hesitantly.

You didn’t look at them, but you felt Wanda scooting her chair closer, engulfing you in a hug. “We’re so happy for you!” she exclaimed, and you relaxed in her arms. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Natasha sat down in the chair on the other side of you, rubbing your back. “Where is she now?” Natasha asked.

“Still in Seattle. We lived together in that apartment,” you told her, sitting up straight again.

“We should invite her over, if you want too,” Wanda suggested. You nodded. “I’d like that,”

Two days later Charlie was standing in front of your door again, and she hugged you tight. “I’ve missed you,” you murmured. She nodded, kissing your forehead.

When she let you go, she noticed your moms standing behind you. Natasha was the first one to introduce herself, telling her it was nice to meet her. Wanda was next, giving her a small hug.

You had dinner that night, the four of you, and after finding out you had lived together for 2 years, Wanda suggested she should stay for a while. Charlie agreed, and you couldn’t be happier. The night was ended with movies, you in Charlie’s arms, just like all those other nights. The only difference was your moms sitting next to you, smiling at the wonderful young woman you’d grown into.

#black widow #natasha x reader #marvel #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandanat #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x daughter #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months

Note

Male Yandere Adventurer x Female Magical Maiden Reader

Just imagine a man who’s on an adventure or is like a hunter or something, coming across a magical maiden bathing in a body of water, and he just has to make her his

I was inspired by all those beautiful water nymph/maiden oil paintings that I thought this would be a cool concept if reader darling was the magical one for a change. Or what if yandere also secretly had some magic blood in him!?

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Hero! Isekai'ed Adventurer x Fem! Elementalist mage! Reader

💝 ANON! I love this request so much because I love worldbuilding. Making your own lore to magical worlds is just-- ack!

This time, this world will be the same as Yan! Villain's world. Hope you don't mind me putting more elements to the fic.

Also, my ask box is going to be open again! Finally. Lol. :3

Yan! Isekai'ed Adventurer's name: Aeron

A great Adventurer. Someone who defeated the Demon King by his own hands without any help.

From a nobody to the Hero everyone looked up to, Aeron shot up through the ranks of the Empire.

Charismatic, brave, strong, and determined, Aeron was somebody people underestimated before.

After all, he just suddenly appeared one day. In the middle of the throne room, nonetheless.

Begging for his life, Aeron pleaded the Emperor to not put him in jail for trespassing the palace. So, with the Emperor looking to take advantage of this man, he assigned Aeron to kill the Demon King by himself.

"Isn't that suicide?"

Yes, it was.

But Aeron is desperate. So he agreed to the quest and set off with only a few copper coins, a sword, bow, shield, stale bread, and the clothes on his back.

He's legitimately sent to die.

Only a human. Without any powers, nor he didn't go to the gym that much to have the physical prowess to even have a chance of fighting back.

He was so scared. So small, so powerless in a world filled with unknown magic that he didn't encounter back in earth at all.

He's someone who hopped from party to party, as people only saw him as fodder, or they just scammed him of free labor. Then abandoned once they realized he's off to kill the Demon King.

He tried so hard.

So hard for people to take him seriously.

But all he received was ridicule, harsh words, and spits or beatings for the people who went too far.

Humans, all they cared about are themselves and nobody else.

Selfish, hateful, and evil.

Are they sure the Demon King is the evil one and not them?

His body screamed in pain everyday as he hiked alone and taken advantage of. His wounds severe, his leg cut off. He tried so hard to be so understanding, but what is there to understand of hearts so filled with vile intentions?

Revenge, he was fueled with it.

He wants to see blood, he wants to see them suffering for the suffering he got. Tenfold.

Hero? He was no hero as he cut off the head of the Demon King who was innocent, and didn't do anything wrong.

Does he feel bad?

He feels too bad for himself to feel bad for others.

Waving the head of the Demon King, he trudges back to the Palace. Throwing the head at the feet of the fearful Emperor. Aeron sighs, knowing everything is finally going to his direction as the Emperor grants him Marquess status, after kicking the previous Marquess for corruption.

As the hero, he was regarded as a celebrity. Everyone loved him, and everyone revered him. Those who wronged him before though, now boasts of being his ex-party mates, and that they were the best of friends. Singing praises as if they didn't sling hurtful words to his way before.

Let's just say, they ended up dead the next day for even trying to say those words.

There's only one person who genuinely helped Aeron.

A mage, living alone in the woods on the foot of the Demon King's castle. She's somewhat of an enigma, capable of holding off monsters from trying to invade the Empire, especially the Demon King himself. Sure, the King is innocent, but only because he was not successful in invading the Empire yet due to her.

And she was you.

Truthfully, you were only a bored, overpowered mage who decided to protect the Empire one day. You wield all the main elements in a precision that nobody has topped off before, and sub-elementals in a way that other master wizards only dream of wielding.

OP, sure, but you didn't care about other people's feelings.

So, how did Aeron meet you?

On the way to the top of the castle, he had to take a bath due to being rancid. Showered with monsters' blood left and right, he hadn't had a bath for so long too, focused on killing the Demon King and nothing more. He didn't even care about his leg being gone as he hopped towards the stream.

Then, he saw you. Beautiful, ethereal you.

Bathing under the moonlight, the water cascaded down your skin and onto your curves, and down to the stream once more. Your hair, wet, shines as if stars sparkled within them.

Then your eyes. Deep, sharp, bored.

He was captivated.

"Who are you?" You asked, not even looking at him as you continued to wield the stream's water to make a pseudo shower. "Do not look at me like that, lecher."

Aeron froze, embarassed.

"Ah no, I just... Want to take a bath too when I saw you."

Your gaze looked at him.

"I can see that you really need a bath."

Aeron flushed red once more.

You cracked your neck before standing up. Aeron's eyes followed your every movement as you went up to him.

He could feel his heart beat increase in speed.

Then, feeling an itch on his leg stump, his eyes widened as a grotesque yet mesmerizing event happened. His leg is reforming once more.

"How did you..." He flexed his leg, in awe.

"Take a bath, you smell bad." You dismissed him before going away.

"Your name! Miss..." He yells, eyes erratic.

"Y/N. See you around, future hero."

And you left with a bag of gold, a mana infused sword, bow with mana arrows, and a shield made of obsidian.

The complete opposite of the Emperor.

His heart raced once more as tears fell from his eyes.

The first act of kindness he received in this world.

He vowed to repay you, so he took a bath, and headed straight to the Demon King to fight.

Now, he's here to pay back the kindness you gave him.

And he just hopes you recognize the man in front of you.

Or else.

After helping the Duke Eros in the war and earning another victory in his belt, Aeron rested his body in his chateau once more.

He placed his arm over his eyes, sighing deeply.

little dancing black sprites danced all around him as the sun filtered through the arched windows. These sprites started following him after he defeated the Demon King, and now he wields them like how a magic user does. He's still completely magic-less, but thanks to the sprites, he got to wield magic.

It was sunset, and Aeron just got back from reporting to the Emperor who gloated about the fact that this Empire just won another war.

"That freak." He muttered.

The current Emperor, who just succeeded the previous Emperor who mysteriously died with black sprites latched on his body, was a warfreak who wanted to spread his territory for fun, and spills bloodshed for the thrill of it. He's just the same age as Eros and Aeron, but god is he a crazy motherfucker.

Aeron stood up, letting the sprites dance around his palm as he casted magic on his hand. The sprite absorbed into his skin, making his arm pitch black with his veins dying the dark color. Creeping up to his arm.

"Portal."

The spatial frame cracked, forming a what looked like a broken glass opening.

It opens to the forest, the foot of the Demon King's castle.

His heart rate picked up once more.

He stepped forward, entering into the portal and being teleported into the forest.

One thing he got from the war he was forced to join is a ring with a jewel the same color as your eyes. One with an intricate carving and a unique design. As if veins popped out of the jewel, which was the centerpiece. It's embedded with fae magic that Aeron hopes is useful for you.

His steps heavy, the crunch of the leaves under you filled his ears. He's quiet, even his breathing light and seemingly not there. His time in the war, and fighting different beasts after the Demon King trained his body to perfection.

He stopped in front of the stream once more, a sense of dejavu knocked into him as he watched you bath once more there.

The moonlight filtered through the much bigger trees and into you below. You were much more magnificent than he remembers.

He gulped, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you.

He felt pent up. But he knows that he should stop himself.

"*ehem*, my lady." He said, back straight and chest out. His eyes sparkling with warmth. "Remember me?"

You, startled as you didn't feel a presence, whipped your body towards him. A stark contrast to how you reacted before.

But, he felt his stomach drop when you looked at him all confused.

"Who are you?"

He suddenly clammed up.

Sweat started to riddle his face, eyes wide with betrayal.

This...

"I'm the person you helped before, my lady. The one without a leg?"

You hummed.

"I don't really recognize you..."

He started to breath heavily and shakily. His eyes, trembling, he tried to find signs of your form if you were joking.

But no, you were serious.

He took a step forward, his lips trying to say something. Anything.

You shrugged at his reaction.

"I help a lot of people, really. So I don't recognize you. Have I helped you? I assume I did, as you said."

But all he could utter was a helpless, silent cry.

This was worse than being exploited.

The only person who was nice to him when he got isekai'ed into this godforsaken world forgot him.

And you helped other people?

Not just him?

Something unknown bubbled deep into his stomach painfully. It felt like it was wrenching into a boulder he can't seem to lift away.

"My Lady... I..." His mouth felt dry.

You shrugged, snapping your fingers and making you instantly dry after you went up to the shore.

Wearing your clothes, you waved to him before going away once more.

Aeron felt sick to his stomach as he keeled over.

He never cried.

He refused to cry for the people who wronged him.

But now, tears flowed down from his eyes as he started to go under a panic attack.

"My Lady... Why... Why don't you remember me..." He sobbed out, his throat painfully clawing out cries of desperation. The tears soaked his cheeks but he didn't care. "You were so nice to me... Why?"

The fantasy he built inside your mind was now broken completely. He thought you will remember him. He didn't consider that you won't remember him.

He felt so lost.

What's all this for?

What is he fighting for?

When his lady doesn't even remember him?

He gripped the grass beneath him. A strangled cry finally gargling out of his mouth.

Why did he feel so attached to you?

Just because you were the nicest to him?

So what? You chose to be nice in this place filled with vile people.

He just wished you didn't.

He just wished you left him alone, maybe even be rude to him like others did if you would just forget him.

But no, you used your magic on him. A pathetic alien in this grotesque world filled with magic and discrimination.

He just wished he would die then and there.

As negative thoughts filled him, the darkness around him seeped into his legs and arms. Like the sprites, black veins crept around his limbs painfully and into his neck.

What is a hero?

His sclera turned black, his breathing became shorter and shorter.

Does a hero need to be always good?

Something poured inside him, making him gargle in pain. Drool dripped down his chin as he snapped out of it. He writhed in pain from the sudden influx of mana inside his body.

Why was he sent to this goddamn world in the first place?

He curled his toes, his body becoming rigid. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, he painfully clawed at his face as he moved around the place. His heart pounding fast, his mind pulsing all over the place.

Is the purpose of him being isekai'ed here is to save the world?

He hacked up blood, keeling over. The boulder in his stomach now a fiery acid he wished to dispel from his body. He vomits out blood again, but it was pitch black.

But if he was destined to be a hero, why is he suffering so much?

He wants the pain to be gone, he wants it off. He wants to ask for your help, to scream for your name to alleviate his pain like you did before. But no sound came from his mouth. Only black and purple smoke as his body underwent changes he never thought would happen.

Please, will you help this poor man?

After an hour, he shakily stood up. He felt that his senses got more sensitive, tenfold. He can feel every beast's emotion. He can feel overwhelming power inside him, same as authority.

After all, you were the light to his world.

And, as hundreds of beasts surround him, a sprite descended from above and placed a crown on his head. The monsters bowed to him. He numbly stood there, looking so disheveled but so ominous as he took a deep sigh.

Give this Demon King a chance, yes?

You flipped through your mythology book, lazily drinking tea.

You just finished eating dinner, and is now lounging at the roof of your treehouse. Intaking the mana into your body slowly, you had a relaxed form as you yawned from tiredness.

Then you felt it.

The sudden influx of demonic power converging into one place.

Your body shivered, goosebumps riddling your skin.

Coincidentally, the page you stopped on had the ritual of birthing the new Demon King.

After defeating the previous Demon King, a person experiencing the worst grief there is, someone who only received harshness and no kindness in his life, will be able to become the Demon King if a trigger happened. May it be betrayal of feelings, or if one act of kindness inside his unfortunate life suddenly turned sour. Creating the Ultimate Grief, the catalyst of the demonic power to surge inside that person.

Will you run away, or investigate, or stay?

You froze, not knowing what to do.

The only person inside the forest is the Empire's Hero earlier, who introduced himself to you.

What happened?

Is this related to you?

But you seriously don't remember him.

Or did you, and just don't want to acknowledge it by some reason?

Your trembling hand reached for your bag and hastily packed up your stuff. The previous Demon King was weak, somebody who lived for so long that his negative Demonic Powers were slowly depleting.

And the birth of a new Demon King is never a good sign.

This is one of the few times you cursed yourself for not learning how to do teleportation.

Two bags. Not enough but will do for now.

You need to warn the Empire.

"AH!"

As you grabbed the bags and tried to get out of your house, you stopped in your tracks when black veins crept on the floorboards, trying to reach your legs.

Heart rate picking up, you got up the couch.

You just knew that if these veins reached you, you are a gonner.

You clutched your bag, hearing a sorrowful moan outside the treehouse.

"My Lady... Why don't you recognize me?"

You're powerless against a newly awakened Demon King.

You can't escape him.

"You're my light, why did you forget me..."

Your walls creaked and moaned under the intense pressure Aeron was emitting. As if they were yelling at you for forgetting him.

"Was it because I was scrawny and dirty back then?"

He continued to wail outside of the treehouse. You tried casting light magic and dark magic, but they didn't do jackshit on the veins. They continued to try and wrap around your legs.

"My lady... Should I bathe myself in blood for you to recognize me?!"

Powerful wind blew away your front door as you screamed in terror.

Aeron stood on the archway, eyes bloodshot and crazy as his handsome visage was filled with grief, longing, love, anger, sadness...

"You're the same as them my lady..."

You searched his face, trying to recognize him. Your body was struggling to stay standing from the amount of pressure being pressed on your body.

Wait, something's coming in your mind.

As an attempt to speed up your memory, you hit your head with the heel of your palm. In a state of panic of wanting to remember immediately.

The floorboards groaned under his weight as Aeron stepped forward to you.

"Remember me, my lady. Please." Dark tears fell on his cheeks. "Please..."

"Ah! You... The man with the bloodiest stench, with the leg stump that I fixed!"

You spoke so fast that Aeron almost didn't catch it.

The wind stopped howling.

"You... You remembered me..." Aeron laughed, his eyes wide with manic desperation. "Oh my god, you do..."

Aeron slumped down, hugging your waist as he wept.

"My lady, you're too much! You should have told me that you remember me sooner!" He laughed lightly, holding your hand as he buried his face on your stomach.

The sudden shift in mood sent you into a harsh whiplash.

"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, not getting this man in front of you at all.

"I forgive you." He whispered, hands wrapped around you tight.

He feels so good now. No more grief, no more crying.

He just knows you remember him now. Nobody matters but you, and your recognition of him.

"My Lady, i'm here to propose." He suddenly said, making your blood run cold.

And, as he separated himself from you, he kneeled down on both knees, as if pleading you to say yes.

This man, the greatest hero of the Empire, was now kneeling in front of you. Awakened as a Demon King from the grief you caused. His eyes hooded, dripping with overwhelming affection for you.

What have you done?

You've condemned the Empire, this world to a Demon King once more.

"My life here in this Empire was the worst. Everyone hated me, took advantage of me, stole from me, abused me in every way possible. I lost hope, and was driven with revenge. But you, my lady. You showed me kindness when no one did, and I knew you are my soulmate." He confessed passionately, his voice dripping honey sweet with delusional feelings for you. "So, be my wife, my marchioness, my queen..."

You've got the Demon King and the Greatest Hero wrapped around your finger.

Be proud.

And, as you nodded hesitantly, he slipped in the ring he was fidgeting with earlier.

You flinched, feeling it tighten around your digit. Spikes digging slightly, making sure you cannot take it off of you no matter what.

You want to scream at him for this absurd ring, but the ominous smile he had made you clam up.

You are his salvation, and he would die without you.

So chin up, and hold onto the leash tight,

You won't know when this rabid dog will bite the hand that feeds him.

And you don't intend to fuck around and find out.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere x you #lizzaneiaelizalde

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