#w: graphic depictions of violence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

naviculariis · 1 month

Text

BORN TO BREAK.

Rating: Explicit Warning(s): Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Blood & Gore, Injury, Amputation, Hysteria, Waterboarding, Specifically Post-Marineford but before the end of the Timeskip. Spoilers. Relationships: Eustass Kid/Killer [ lowkey ] Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, Eustass Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, Original Male Character(s) Summary: “Captain!” Heat called from behind them. They’d covered them in water- had splashed them once, twice, three times before ducking his head under the water of the river. Waterboarding him, drowning him, snuffing out the fire that they spewed regularly. That’s why he couldn’t help, Killer thought as Shanks relented, stepping away, blade pulling free of his throat. “Captain, get up!” Heat called out once more. “What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

Notes:

PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS. This gets gnarly. Remember how I've mentioned I can get into Dead Dove territory? Here it is. Oh, right. Do y'all remember that scene in episode 67 of the original Naruto series where Gaara is screaming hysterically during the exams about his blood?

Yeah. Keep that in mind for me, will you? You'll know when it comes into play.

Sometimes, you really underestimate how things will go.

The sound of footsteps was loud in the silence that followed after the clash. The movement caught Killer’s attention first; he glanced up towards Shanks, who watched with an almost smug expression. That spiked something in him, some dormant fear that prickled with anxiety, that had his hands sweating, had his heart racing in his chest. He shifted, attention turning towards where his Captain should have been. The ground was dry, too dry; dust was kicked up with every small movement. With the blood and sweat that was in his own eyes, it was hard to see, hard to make out what he was seeing.

Beckmann was walking away- no, walking towards him. That’s why Shanks was so smug, pinning him with his foot on his skull, his blade at his throat. Anytime he swallowed, the steel dug in a little more, drawing forth scarlet that trickled slowly down the length of it. His breath caught in his throat as the dust finally cleared away, giving way to… Kidd? Why was he on the ground? “What-” he croaked out, only to groan as Shanks pressed his weight into his foot. The pain was excruciating, his jaw clenching as a yell pulled free from somewhere deep within him.

“Captain!” Heat called from behind them. They’d covered them in water- had splashed them once, twice, three times before ducking his head under the water of the river. Waterboarding him, drowning him, snuffing out the fire that they spewed regularly. That’s why he couldn’t help, Killer thought as Shanks relented, stepping away, blade pulling free of his throat. “Captain, get up!” Heat called out once more.

“What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

His finger was on the trigger.

His arm was black; coated in Haki. Haki- Beckmann had Haki?

Shit. Killer blinked hard beneath the mask, trying to clear his vision. “Heat, what do you see?” He asked their third mate, who was silent. Silence was never a good answer. “Heat, answer.”

“I uh…” The waver in their voice was enough to set them all on edge. “I don’t think-”

“An arm for an arm, though your captain wasn’t the one to cost me mine.” Shanks answers in a near-chipper manner from behind him. “What will he do now? The Captain of the Kidd Pirates, beaten like a bad dog. But that’s what you all are, aren’t you?” The chuckle that escapes from Shanks is nothing short of sinister. “You come here to challenge us, to challenge me… For what reason? I have nothing to give you.”

An arm. Beckmann took Kidd’s arm.

“I-” Killer began to retaliate verbally before a sound caught their attention.

It started softly. Like a pained whine from a dog, high and reedy and nerve-grating. “My arm,” Kidd whispered, his gaze trained on the limb sitting on the ground three feet in front of him. It bled, oozing garnet onto ivory sand. He could see the bone standing out; shattered mid-way, nothing near a clean break. This wasn’t a break. That was his arm. Those were his fingers, painted black. Those were his rings.

That was his arm.

His arm.

“My arm.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he blinked once, hard. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, he could see the remnants of his shirt moving with each beat. “My arm.” He repeated, dazedly. Adrenaline was starting to leave his bloodstream, sweating out through his pores. The pain was odd. He could feel his arm, still- no, no, he can’t. That’s only his mind thinking that he can feel it, that he can feel the sensation of his fingers twitching, of the nerves dying, of his hand growing numb and cold because the blood isn’t returning, it’s leaking out on the ground and oh, gods, that’s his FUCKING ARM. “MY ARM!” He screamed as reality set in. He reached over to the freely bleeding stump, fingers meeting torn flesh and muscle and fatty tissue that just hung limply, and shattered bone that pricked at his fingertips. “MY ARM! YOU TOOK MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM!”

“Ah, the hysterics.” Shanks hums, cleaning Gryphon on the edge of his trousers. The steel hissed as it returned to its home within the sheath.

Wire was stilled in the grasp of Lucky Roux, blood trickling down his forehead as he stared at Eustass. They took his arm? His arm ripped clean off. How the fuck did Beckmann do that? Did he have a devil fruit? Haki? He felt sick to his stomach, turning in Roux’s grasp to gag once, twice, before the bigger man released him to allow him to spill the contents of his stomach.

“I could finish him off,” Shanks offered Killer, reaching out to settle his arm around his shoulders, pulling him back against himself as if he were some friend, some companion. “What do ye say, lad? I finish off yer Captain, you lot come an’ join me and my crew?”

“Fuck you.” Killer spat, shaking in his grasp. “Fuck you.”

“Not my type.”

Beckmann snorts as he turns the gun, aiming now at Kidd. “One shot to the head, all it takes.”

“NO!” Heat screamed, pulling himself free from Yasopp, rushing forward to stand between Beckmann and his Captain, who was muttering under his breath about his arm. Hysterical; they couldn’t blame him. “Please- spare him. Spare us.” They pleaded, falling to their knees before the two men. “We won’t come after either of ye again. Just- spare him, spare his life. Please.”

Shanks and Benn study one another; a silent conversation between Captain and First Mate, something Killer was familiar with. He and Kidd did that often, knowing the other well enough to not have to use verbal language. “Fine.” Shanks shrugged, grinning as he released Killer, and stepped back. “I’m tired of this anyway. Find us in the New World, if yer Captain survives. I’d like a rematch, there. Get stronger.” Brown gaze settled upon Kidd, taking in the damage Beckmann had dealt. “You’re in the big leagues, now.”

And just like that, it was over.

Killer rushed forward, falling to his knees in the blood soaked sand before Kidd. “Eustass?” He whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his head up. His pupils were blown; his skin was pale with blood loss and shock. “We gotta get you up. It’s gonna hurt.”

“The arm-” Eustass tried to argue.

Killer shook his head. He didn’t argue as Heat came round the other side. It took a moment of figuring out where hands could rest before they had him up and balanced between themselves. Wire did grab the arm, wrapped it up in his jacket. The Red Haired Pirates went back towards the beach; they retreated to the town.

Eustass Kidd passed out two minutes into the walk, much to the alarm of his crew.

The next time he came to, he was laying down on a cot in what he assumed to be a doctor’s office. He blinked hard, eyes squeezing shut. Everything felt dulled; his head lulled to the right, meeting with a white wall. Huh. To the left, then. Ah, that’s better. A room! Killer is standing, talking to some dude in a white coat. Doctor, he hopes and assumes. Wire is sitting across from him in some chairs; Heat is slumped against his shoulder, their eyes closed, breathing even. Sleepy, sleepy Heat.

Eustass looks down to his torso. Bruising already beginning to bloom; he can feel a cracked rib or two, certainly. Drip, drip, drip. What was dripping? Did someone leave a faucet on? He huffed, going to sit up, only to find himself suddenly unable to. Something was holding him down. What? He frowned at the black straps that held his shoulders and chest. Why was he pinned?

“Hey, doccccc,” he drawled out, slurring his words like a drunkard. “Wha’s happenin’? Why cannae I… Shite.” He winced at the sudden flare of pain. What the fuck? “Wiiiire?”

“Eustass-” Killer began, stepping over as Wire shook his head. Heat woke up, then. Rubbed at their eyes, smearing their eye black. “You need to stay still.”

“Why?” He didn’t WANT to stay still. He needed to piss. “I need t’tae a leak.”

“You-” Killed glanced back. Wait, where was Killer’s mask? Why could he see his pretty blue eyes so clearly? Why was his lip split open? What-

The fight.

It all rushed back suddenly, playing out in the forefront of his mind. Eustass reels from the memory, from the pain that also returns in a weird, dulled form. “My arm,” he whined, head lifting to look at the bloodied bandages that covered the stump. “He took my arm!”

“I’m afraid there’s still work t’be done, lad,” the doctor murmured, coming to stand by his head. Eustass looked up, ruby gaze frantic as he searches this strange doctor’s face. His eyes were lighter than Killer’s, hair a mousy brown. “I’ve got to close you up.”

“You can’t reattach it?”

“No, laddie. I cannae.”

Oh. Kidd swallowed roughly, looked to Killer who reached up, cupped his cheek. “I’m not leaving the room.”

“Okay.”

“Bite down on this.” The doctor placed a block in his mouth. Wood, thick, slotted between his jaws to allow his teeth to clench down onto, grind into.

His breath started coming quickly, then. Chest rising and falling rapidly as Killer was forced to move, to stand at his head while the doctor moved further down. He couldn’t watch, didn’t want to watch, squeezed his eyes shut as Killer settled his hands on his shoulders.

Killer watched, instead.

He’d seen his fair share of amputations over the years. Things got bad back home; sometimes, you do what you must to survive, even if that means sawing through your own leg because it’d grown necrotic. That was the fear, here, that Kidd’s stump would grow necrotic. Stump. That’s what it was, Killer realized as the doctor- a man named Ronan- removed the wraps. Already soaked through, a small puddle on the floor had formed. The bandages landed with a harsh splat on the ground. He looked beyond, gaze settling upon the bone saw that sat on the table.

They should have called Law.

But Trafalgar was Gods know where, now. A hundred meters under the water, probably. Or less. Or more, Killer didn’t know how that weird ass yellow submarine worked.

Ronan sprayed the stump with water. Kidd hissed, whined, whimpered, wheezed at the sensation.

“Can’t we knock him out?” Heat asked from the side.

“I did. He woke up.”

“Killer?” Heat pleaded, and Killer shook his head.

“The pain will knock him out in a minute,” Ronan added as he grabbed hold of the bonesaw. “Or the shock.”

“Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

“As sure as you are that you’re a pirate.”

Killer shut up, then. Lips pressed tightly together, the bolt of pain like lightning from his split lip. His helmet had been cracked in more than one place; it would need to be repaired, eventually. But not right now. Not now. No, now-

He felt like he would puke.

The saw settled on the exposed bone. At least three inches of bone was still exposed after Ronan had cut away the “skin flaps”, as he’d referred to the loose skin. Eustass had been under for that. Ronan began to move his arm back, forth, back, forth.

The scream that escaped Eustass had every hair on Killer’s body standing on end. It warbled, high and pained and oh, Gods, he wished he would just pass out. Just pass out, pass out, pass out now. Please, Gods, please! Eustrass tried to pull away, but Killer held him in place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Killer whispered over and over as Eustass sobbed, tears rolling from his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Boss.”

Eustass fell limp. For a brief moment, Killer assumed he’d just died. No- no, he was still breathing. It was a relief, then. He wouldn’t be able to feel any of this. The bone was cracking beneath the saw, falling away after ten minutes of consistent sawing. Ronan worked quickly, suturing and cleaning and doing things that Killer wasn’t really sure of, but the bleeding had slowed, and if Kidd died, he knew where to find this doctor.

It was dark when Kidd woke again. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton, his head felt just as heavy. The bed beneath him was soft, though; it didn’t rock with the movements of waves, meaning he was ashore. He groaned softly as pain rocked through him. “Shite,” he hissed, reaching up to rub at his face.

His arm didn’t move. His left arm didn’t move.

He looked down in confusion and saw empty space and blood speckled bandages instead. That’s right- he’d lost the arm. Beckmann had ripped it off of his body. Movement drew his gaze up, watching as Killer stepped in. Maskless, bandaged, hair tied up in a messy bun. “Eus?”

“‘M awake.” He grumbled, rising up with a hiss and far more effort than it should normally take. His back settled against the headboard. “Where are we?”

“Same island we’ve been on. It’s-... It’s been a week.”

“A week?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Kept you loaded up on pain killers. You uh…” Killer rubbed the back of his head. He had been asleep in the other room. “You needed them.”

Eustass frowned as he stared at his partner. Killer shifted his weight. “C’mere. Bed’s cold.” He huffed, watching Killer carefully climb into the right side. He didn’t wait for him to settle, leaning in against him heavily. “Beckmann ripped off my arm.”

“He did.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“We are.”

“We are gonna wipe those shitty little rodents off the map.” Eustass muttered, eyes closing. His breath started to grow uneven; the hint of a sob escaping. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them all.”

Killer didn’t speak as he wound his arms around Eustass, pulling him close, lips pressing to his temple as Kidd broke down. Yes, they would kill Shanks, and Beckmann, and Yasopp, and Lucky Roux. They would all die for what they did to Eustass. To his Captain. His partner. His world.

Killer would make sure of it.

#𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘: [ main verse ]#DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT #tw: Graphic Depictions Of Violence #tw: Blood & Gore #tw: Injury #tw: Amputation #tw: Hysteria #w: Waterboarding #those are certainly some tags huh gang?#𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖘: [ kidd pirates ]#& 𝕴'𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌: [ eustass kidd ]#𝕽𝖔𝖇 𝖅𝖔𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊: [ HEAT ]#𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙 & 𝕾𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖈𝖙: [ Wire ]#𝕮𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖔𝖌: [ FICS ]#𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖘 & 𝖂𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖘: [ Massacre Soldier Killer ]#𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖕: [ kidkiller ]

4 notes · View notes

sararaiden · 1 year

Text

I will always be proud of the start of my fengqing wip--though who the fuck knows when I will be able to finish it with the phd and everything.

No one will ever dare to voice such an inquiry, but if someone ends up doing it—probably the little boy that visits him in his dreams from time to time, cheery voice asking, “Xuan Zhen Jiangjun, what defines your life?”—Mu Qing wouldn’t even have to think his answer. That would be, of course, “comfort”—in all its variations and types. A quest to find it, if you will, one that sometimes led to just embracing the quiet lull of whatever little solace he could find. It always bears the same tune, a melody of eight hundred years:

At least he is the only one being executed. At least it is a beheading, and not him writhing under the executioner while a cord is being twisted around his neck.

At least it is only her eyesight.

At least he entered the Royal Holly Pavilion, instead of wilting away on the streets.

At least, after he leaves, they will have each other.

At least he doesn’t look at Feng Xin the same way Ming Guang does at Rain Master, nor does he beg for his attention the same way Crimson Rain Sought Flower flutters around Xie Lian. At least—and he puts so much effort into this it’s ridiculous—his touch doesn’t linger on Feng Xin’s robes as much as Ling Wen’s does when her fingers brush over the Brocade Immortal.

#tgcf #tw: graphic depictions of violence #fengqing #rhena w*#the amount of academic papers i read just for one line about mu qing's father lmao #mu qing

15 notes · View notes

xadoheandterra · 7 months

Text

Purple Stars

Series: Purple Stars Fandoms: Harry Potter, Undertale Summary: Wing Dings Aster, Gaster, made an incalculable error. In that error the Void swallowed Reality. Aster, in turn, swallowed the Void, and Reality with it. The results were not wholly expected, and yet not wholly bad either. At least he had a way to stop it now. Once, you know, he could recall who the fuck he was and stopped another War from wrecking everything.

Sometimes Aster wondered if Font and Star Clan ever regretted adopting him. Hope knew Aster regretted himself enough as is, especially with becoming nothing more than 'Mage-trash' in the aftermath of everything. He was never going to live this down. Notes: A re-imagining of Shattered & Stuck, and Memory

Story: S H A T T E R E D Scenes: I | II Main Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Toriel Dreemurr Pairings: slightly implied Toriel/Aster, Toriel/Asgore, slightly implied Asgore/Aster Main Tags: Body horror, graphic depictions of violence, science gone wrong, disaster gaster Summary: A SOUL swallows the whole of Reality, and then SHATTERS from the Strain.

Story: F A L L E N Scenes: I | II | III | IV Main Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Toriel Dreemur, Rivers [Riverperson], Asgore Dreemur Pairings: implied Toriel/Aster, Toriel/Asgore, TBD Main Tags: angst, implied non-consensual soulbinding, implied child abandonment, implied bad gaster Summary: A SOUL shattered, and in doing so began to FALL, and FALL, and FALL, and FALL….

Story: S T U C K Scenes: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII Main Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Rivers [Riverperson], Frisk Pairings: Implied Aster/Asgore, implied Toriel/Asgore Main Tags: angst, undertale genocide route, doing bad things for good reasons, dissolving mental health, mental instability Summary: A SOUL shattered, and fell for Eternity, until Ink and Ichor made it STUCK.

Story: R E B I R T H Scenes: I Main Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley, Petunia Dursley Main Tags: fluff, memory loss Summary: A SOUL awakens on the surface, born anew. It cannot go HOME. It does not remember how.

Story: A W A K E N I N G Scenes: I | II | III Main Characters: Harry Potter, TBD Main Tags: TBD Summary: The SOUL is a curious thing. It can remember, even when the MIND forgets. It can remember, even when the BODY does not know. It is also FRAGILE.

Story: M E M O R Y Scenes: TBD Main Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Harry Potter, TBD Pairings: TBD Main Tags: TBD Summary: TBD

1 note · View note

eightmakesonebraincell · 4 months

Text

ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)

genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes

length: 13.8k

c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)

a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all

hongjoong

the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it

it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt

there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse

and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…

if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy

“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks

when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants

“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly

your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting

gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you

but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you

hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand

you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking

until he begs for you

letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas

hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground

“oops,” you drawl coquettishly

you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass

you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest

a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten”

“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more

he snaps

it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you

he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you

“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”

your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction

sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-

you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls

hard.

“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside

another clang, this time closer towards the entrance

there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors

“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks

“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”

a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes

just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open

“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”

“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”

numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings

you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of

“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”

at his last word, it finally clicks

“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”

meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations

you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”

“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls

you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”

you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement

hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick

“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks

then you two move

in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other

the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious

realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand

“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr

you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm

twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor

“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat

vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name

“duck!”

you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby

you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack

“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”

he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”

the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor

he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend

“duck,” you tease

hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind

moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet

the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him

you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter

“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally

stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone

most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself

“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver

“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”

“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”

“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”

there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you

“what was that?” yunho startles

hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter

“just hongjoong having some fun”

when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple

you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking

the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him

hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”

and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth

it’s finally silent

“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were…interrupted”

at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you

he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes

you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat

he’s in front of you now

“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”

his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-

“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”

his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse

wooyoung is fucking early.

you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof

“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed

hongjoong’s clenched fists are white

uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”

he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”

you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps

“wooyoung,” he says evenly

it goes in one ear and out the other

wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”

“jung wooyoung”

said man finally blanches

good thing too

because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,

“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”

seonghwa

“remember, as soon as i leave-”

“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily

he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”

“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time

despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you

with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment

he understands though

it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now

under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again

it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side

but it’s okay - baby steps

“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”

you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave

he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it

so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood

he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment

but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor

you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back

he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home

you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom

he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness

and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house

because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before

you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six

your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside

half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa

that’s okay, you tell yourself

you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes

sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

again.

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

you glance up at the clock

it’s seven

you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life

no notifications

you try to quell the growing panic inside of you

but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home

what if something went wrong?

what if he is hurt?

what if he is missing?

what if he is…dying?

you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers

7:24 PM

the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden

you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone

the call rings and rings and rings

“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”

your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs

you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop

but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial

hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”

you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”

there’s some rustling in the background

“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”

your stomach lurches dangerously

you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone

“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”

“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”

hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base

then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”

with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call

yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation

“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location

san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim

he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”

hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”

he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa

you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again

what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger

your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class

he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage

sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself

because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever

but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down

and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder

just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling

it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful

exactly how an intruder would open a door

you know you do not have a choice

you have to protect yourself

slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath

the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open

your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are

amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity

…now.

with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head

hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring

but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper

“hongjoong, he- he’s here”

“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”

“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”

“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off

wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car

the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs

as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open

a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns

with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room

“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands

“hongjoong?”

said man falters

that’s not your voice

“the fuck?”

of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them

because seonghwa is in the living room

sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it

but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking

something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension

“surprise?”

wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter

seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”

when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels

“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave

because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile

well, surprise you he did

it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend

“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”

and you really do mean it

seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh

he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”

and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him

“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave

but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark

“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”

you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio

“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump

“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”

you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”

he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out

you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens

“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”

seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you

but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’

and then his shoulders sag once more

seonghwa wails

and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag

“the donuts are all squished!”

yunho

“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”

you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho

“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”

“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe

you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off

unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”

you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”

his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further

yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”

you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself

(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)

(you can pretend if it’s for him)

“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”

“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground

immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist

one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it

“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled

yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter

BP as in Big Puppy

“i miss you,” he admits

you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”

“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality

yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge

you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours

“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”

“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss

his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt

your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest

his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back

you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase

a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core

“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”

you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway

yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door

wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”

“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face

but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”

yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor

“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans

“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort

“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”

he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly

“what do you mean?”

yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”

and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night

it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe

“this is a date?” you had groused

yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation

“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”

yunho grins down at you

“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”

you roll your eyes at his selective hearing

(you think he’s always sexy)

at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you

“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for

when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears

watch me, he gestures with his hands

and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance

you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath

then he shoots

you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle

and then he shoots again

you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger

because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places

you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine

he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees

with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor

“look through the scope!”

you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles

hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it

and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise

“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing

because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building

“is this meant to be romantic?!”

contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now

he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”

you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug

“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”

“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side

“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”

he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”

distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported

“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder

“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours

“our cue to fucking leg it”

and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it

yeosang

“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”

you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party

it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang

yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”

as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair

it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently

not that you two weren’t already close before

and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard

except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking

but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much

“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”

once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list

you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles

the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang

he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile

“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants

“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression

you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips

yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses

you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline

“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”

as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you

“y/n? yeosang?”

hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over

grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother

“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”

you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”

except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back

“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike

yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”

“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”

you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust

your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two

and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list

yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door

the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up

that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen

“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”

seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”

“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”

hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!

except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow

“snowball fight!!”’

it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee

and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard

even during snowball fights

jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair

(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)

hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you

he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around

it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you

somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact

he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group

now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you

but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously

he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together

he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him

you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning

you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes

“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”

the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss

one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow

jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now

he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention

said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?

you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?

right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face

hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball

why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea

but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction

…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels

hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination

because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating

seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief

that is

until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”

you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel

like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother

his back is turned, body eerily still

most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver

then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”

at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again

he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”

yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”

it starts to stand up from its crouching position

“...i think it will, yeo”

hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands

what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling

you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight

hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon

“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression

“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”

san

you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are

you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den

the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life

now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later

and yet, you are not afraid

your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game

minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building

they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight

you already knew this, though

you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason

“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”

his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room

there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you

the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang

the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs

you realise now that it was a set-up all along

there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang

it was - is - crescent against you

looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”

he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops

“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”

he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall

it’s all bullshit though

you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other

without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help

“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up

he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”

the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone

but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray

“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”

a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along

the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side

the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you

“hey, sweetheart”

the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words

“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence

the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up

because they’re not foolish

they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him

and by extension-

more footsteps resound behind you

-the rest of ateez

you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den

but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den

minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in

and so do several others, it seems

you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building

for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation

san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest

the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground

from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity

“anyone else want to give that a try?” san taunts

no one answers

hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees

“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response

hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”

before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head

the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple

ateez do not need a further command

all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on

he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”

san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised

so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others

he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys

he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine

who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang

and that motherfucker minsu

san is going to make them regret hurting you

san is going to make them wish they were never born

he advances towards them with deceptive calmness

minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically

he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him

san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you

easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple

the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear

“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”

instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat

blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead

but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long

san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu

“your turn,” san smirks

whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain

san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach

minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop

“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”

minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot

san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”

“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace

you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you

“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”

he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly

you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes

“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”

a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”

san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling

when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest

you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body

“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”

amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words

“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh

“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”

“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”

and kiss you he does

mingi

for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow

even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year

you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers

admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street

but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks

you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps

sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors

your breath hitches when you recognise who it is

it’s him

the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore

it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang

his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does

“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face

your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”

you internally cringe at your own words

you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days

he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”

one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing

“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”

mingi’s shoulders relax

“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”

your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words

fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”

just as it fizzles and dies

the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence

startled, you jump slightly

you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones

he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”

you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh

“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”

his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”

he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”

you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections

“you can do that?!” you gawk

mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?

laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay

“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure

selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy

because it means that he can have you all to himself

“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”

mingi is a member of a mafia gang

snow is the least of his worries

but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway

he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low

it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug

instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping

in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip

usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep

but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget

so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life

hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found

you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands

mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background

grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy

you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you

the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing

mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body

“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it

he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too

mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity

“better?” he asks after a while

untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you

silence falls upon you two

it’s not uncomfortable

but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side

“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window

“it is…”

…with you here

“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly

you chew on your bottom lip

shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-

“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”

you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”

“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”

the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all

slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say

mingi saves you though

he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight

“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly

“merry christmas, mingi”

you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end

“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him

he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”

he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile

you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful

“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation

he doesn’t answer straight away

there’s a beat of silence

then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile

“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”

with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself

he confesses

“and i still am”

wooyoung

wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge

he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing

at this point, you don’t even bat an eye

he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift

“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”

you tilt your head, confused

“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”

“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world

you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too

apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms

…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously

“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”

you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”

you think better of your words and pause

“seem like what?”

“nothing”

“what? tell me what you were going to say!”

he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent

“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”

he stares at you

you stare at him

“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you

and run you do

filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks

you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms

sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve

“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier

you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”

it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground

“why not?”

“because my boss won’t let me”

“oh. that’s it?”

“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers

he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks

hah.

this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you

and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation

(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)

you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second

you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle

there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow

then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers

…or not-customers, you suppose

honestly, you should really be used to this by now

two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place

you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”

wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”

“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”

“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”

“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”

he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms

“the only guns i got are these bad boys”

the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously

“get in the car,” one of them snarls

wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door

he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint

you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive

his stupid gang better be real good at finding people

the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say

it’s spacious and well-cushioned

at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one

the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator

“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells

you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror

what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?

the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung

oh shit shit shit-

he raises a hand

he’s going to shoot wooyoung-

and pulls off his mask

“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”

“san?!” you screech in recognition

“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay

the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”

you are absolutely incredulous

“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”

wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”

you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation

“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”

“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you

“what about the security footage?”

“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up

“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”

“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”

now that catches your attention

sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”

wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you

“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”

at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”

“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation

“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly

you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand

“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you

there’s the faint sound of someone gagging

wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard

you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”

there’s silence

“well,” wooyoung contemplates

and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made

but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung

“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”

jongho

jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks

his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him

they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms

after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?

pathetic

their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears

several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground

elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out

it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole

double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise

pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout

your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you

the blood coursing through your veins freezes

because you know these names

these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes

they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes

but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago

your father’s death

jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-

“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief

-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems

a sense of calm settles over you

the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift

the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break

you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy

the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them

you leave

when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater

you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf

jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup

his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board

you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves

and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence

you know now that it’s never his own

when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work

like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart

he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”

your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier

“that was you?”

the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question

“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms

“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”

his words send a hot rush right through your body

the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold

“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”

you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are

in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs

“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke

jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed

he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you

“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”

when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”

a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed

he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp

jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly

you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation

can i?

you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone

yes

his gaze turns predatory almost immediately

“my turn,” he rasps lowly

he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you

you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you

jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally

you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists

“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again

you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him

he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist

it’s not enough though

“touch me, please,” you breathe out

“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure

your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants

“please, officer,” you beg

“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear

the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts

his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them

he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you

your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh

but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear

the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him

“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”

you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants

“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”

“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps

“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”

he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes

he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs

you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you

it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body

he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation

“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”

he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger

“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression

“i need y-”

he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you

you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole

“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you

he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found

a pressure starts to build in your core

“i’m close,” you manage to choke out

you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”

“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead

“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour

you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”

“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him

you can’t do it anymore

you have to cum

you have to-

“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit

your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers

jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-

just as the timer on the stove goes off

“what the fuck?” you blurt out

your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove

jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup

after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm

you watch, rendered speechless

except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason

he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt

“round two, baby”

he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse

you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest

settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground

he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection

your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out

he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him

jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build

his voice is low and teasing

“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”

2K notes · View notes

elliespeach · 1 year

Text

the air that i breathe | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗

synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy

ellie’s pov

– three days after the kidnapping

the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically.

joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.”

she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.

thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant.

ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?”

joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–”

“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward.

“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.”

“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck.

her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst.

the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–

“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.”

“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her.

tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.”

his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–”

“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly.

before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?”

ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open.

“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape.

she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms.

when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory.

she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind.

slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.

sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.

“all you have to do is point, aim and–”

“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie.

“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.”

instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case.

she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence.

the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold.

she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway.

readers pov

– day of the kidnapping

the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over.

the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black.

while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you.

“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth.

“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them.

you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?”

“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.”

her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her.

“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away.

you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall.

the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.

you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door.

with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire.

“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.

you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you.

he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face.

you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming.

“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again.

— four days after the kidnapping

the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea.

at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book.

she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could.

you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair.

“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours.

“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv.

“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her.

turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.”

you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand.

“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice.

you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while.

remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.

time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted.

you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?”

“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself.

“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.”

the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression.

“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.”

worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–”

“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room.

ellie’s pov

— five days after the kidnapping

ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.

by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again.

tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag.

“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did.

“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.”

“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart.

thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you.

she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm.

“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search.

she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees.

not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake.

the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign.

not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her.

knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman.

the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it.

blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.

she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks.

“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head.

“take it all–”

“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.”

the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm.

“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face.

“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.

he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.”

the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably.

“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.”

“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun.

it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it.

taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive.

his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight.

the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia.

that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community.

tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied.

staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible.

“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation.

“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?

“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear.

she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place.

residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.

ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down.

the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–”

ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened.

“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules.

“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.”

ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”

“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street.

she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away.

that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping.

“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone.

ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information.

“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–”

his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it.

the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck.

she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp.

in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key.

she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here.

but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly.

your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more.

ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her.

“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.

she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done.

feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart.

the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally. ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain.

“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.”

ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfiction #biblically accurate ellie williams #angst angst angst #ellie williams the last of us part 2 #santa barbra ellie

1K notes · View notes

punkshort · 4 months

Text

look what we've become - ch.7

Chapter Summary: Joel needs to know where you were taken, so he goes to the only people who would have the answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood

WC: 5.3K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel!" Ellie yelled, shaking his shoulder, pulling him out of a deep sleep.

"What?" he asked, irritated as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around, realizing the sun was up and you never woke him.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, standing and grabbing his gear. "Why didn't she wake me?"

"She's gone!" Ellie said, sounding a little breathless.

Joel felt his legs go weak and the blood rush to his head as Ellie's words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What?"

"She's gone," Ellie repeated. "Her shit's still here, though, so it's not like she left us. But I can't find her anywhere."

"W-where - what d'you mean she's... oh, shit," Joel stammered. He fell back onto the bed as his vision went narrow and his chest tightened under his palm. He felt like he could barely drag in a breath, fighting like hell to keep from passing out. He let his head hang between his knees as he struggled to breathe while the pain in his chest intensified.

"Joel?" Ellie said, her voice sounding miles away even though she was kneeling down right next to him. "Joel! What's going on?!"

"It's fine," he gasped, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain, but it was no use.

"You're not fucking fine! Are you having a heart attack? What do I do?!"

"I'm not-" Joel cut himself off and took in a ragged breath. "I'm not havin' a heart attack."

Jesus Christ, how could he let this happen?

"I'll get you some water," Ellie said, standing up to dig through his pack for his canteen. She held it out to him and he took it weakly, his hand shaking as he brought it to his lips.

"You sure she isn't patrolin' the building?" His voice was raspy as his vision began to widen again. Please, just walk through the door.

"Pretty sure. Her gun was on the ground downstairs," Ellie said, turning around to pick up the pistol from her bed to show him. He felt himself begin to spiral again and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to be focused. He needed to get you back. He needed you to be safe.

"Put that down," he told her, rubbing his eyes.

"It's just the two of us, what if the people who took her come back?" Ellie protested, and Joel dropped his hand to glare at her.

"How d'you know she was taken?" he demanded, even though he already came to the same conclusion himself, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

"What else could it have been?" she shrugged. "Her gun's here, her pack's here, the truck is still here. And she's nowhere to be found. She wouldn't just leave us, right?"

Joel stared at Ellie for a moment, his brows furrowed as he tried to decide how much he should share with a teenager.

He just grunted in response, sitting back and taking a deep breath in while rubbing his chest, doing his best to hide the intense fear that was coursing through his veins. "I'll look around, see if there's any tracks or somethin' that might lead us in the right direction." He stood on shaky legs to scoop up his rifle.

"I'll come with you, watch your back," she said, leaning down to grab her pack.

"No you won't, you'll stay right here," Joel scolded as he headed to the door, still feeling a little lightheaded but the panic attack was subsiding.

Ellie rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack in a huff, watching as Joel made his way down the stairs towards the front door of the fire hall.

Once Joel was safely out of sight, behind a few trees where he knew Ellie couldn't see him, he fell forward and allowed himself to just be weak. First, by gripping his knees and breathing deeply, then by falling to the ground on his hands and knees, letting his head rest against the dirt as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his face.

How could he fuck this up so badly? How could he let this happen? He was supposed to protect you, and the first chance someone got, they took you. No wonder you didn't want to marry him or start a family. How could he possibly keep you or anybody else safe? He just failed time and time again.

Someone must have followed them and he didn't notice. He was too tired and old to recognize when he was being tailed. And it might have cost you your life.

In his craze, he had half a mind to just leave Ellie. His first instinct was to take off, knowing she would just slow him down. But you had a soft spot for the kid, and you so desperately wanted to help her. It was clear as day that you cared for her. He couldn't abandon Ellie after you risked it all to find her family. He wouldn't do that to you. Especially if it was your last wish.

"Stop thinkin' like that," he muttered to himself. With a groan, he pushed off the ground and made himself stand up. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. He just had to focus. He could find you. He would find you, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He opened his eyes and looked around. What could he see? What could lead him to you? He walked the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign - a scrap of clothing, a drop of blood, anything that would draw him in the right direction, but there was nothing.

Next, he examined the truck. Why wouldn't they take the truck? He looked at the ground, hoping to find some tire tracks, but the dry fucking desert left nothing for him to trace. They must have had their own vehicle.

Frustrated, he stormed back inside, his fingers raking through his hair as he stomped up the steps.

"Find anything?" Ellie asked, jumping up from the bed. He could tell she was worried, and if he was in a better frame of mind, he might have cared. But all he could think about was you, and what was happening to you at that very moment while he wasted all this time.

"No," he said, his voice gruff as he paced the room and tried to plot his next move. Ellie watched him for a few minutes, not wanting to anger him further but trying to find the right balance and help.

"Who could've taken her? And why not all of us? Why just her?" Ellie wondered out loud.

Joel paused, her words unlocking something.

"Your uncle," Joel started, turning on her. "He told me somethin' when we were there. Said there's slavers that'll pay good money for her. Tried to convince me to -" Joel fell back on the mattress behind him, his head spinning.

"Wait, what?" Ellie asked, standing up now. "How would he know that?"

"Uh," Joel stammered, his mind going a mile a minute. He probably shouldn't have said that to her, he was just thinking out loud. If you were here, you would have known what to do.

"Did he sell me?!" Ellie's face was ghostly white as she connected the dots.

"I don't know," Joel told her, trying to focus on the main issue. He couldn't deal with this right now, he had to find you.

"He did, didn't he?" Ellie continued, tears welling up in her eyes. "That's how they got past his cameras. That's why I don't remember."

Joel sighed and looked up at her. He didn't have much of a choice.

"Yeah, probably," he finally admitted. "It's why we wanted to get you outta there. Somethin' felt off."

"Motherfuckers," Ellie muttered, and Joel raised his eyebrows.

"We gotta go back," Joel told her, standing up quickly. "Get your stuff. That asshole knows who did this."

Ellie helped direct him back to her uncle's house once a few hours passed and he got closer to the city. He stopped the truck a mile away from the house, parking in an abandoned lot, hiding among other cars, just in case.

"We'll wait til sundown," Joel said as he turned off the engine. It was only a couple hours, but each passing minute he spent not tracking you down made his stomach twist tighter and tighter.

"Then what?"

"Then, I sneak back in there, take 'em by surprise and get the information outta him," Joel replied, staring out the window, looking for any movement.

"How are you gonna get by the cameras?" Ellie asked him. He shrugged.

"Don't know. Guess I try to time it before be sets up the motion alerts. It's a gamble but it's all I got."

"You should go after dinner," she said. He turned to finally look at her, waiting for her to explain. "They like to drink after dinner."

He nodded, dropping his gaze and watching as her hands nervously fidgeted in her lap.

"I know this is your family and all-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Do what you gotta do. They aren't my family anymore," she said, blinking away the tears and looking out her window.

"Right," he said. "Reckon they aren't."

They sat a few minutes in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry all this happened," he said quietly. "Ain't none of it your fault."

Ellie turned to him and tried to keep the surprise from her face.

"Thanks," was all she said, and he gave her a firm nod before reaching behind him to grab his rifle. He checked it was fully loaded before moving on to his revolver, doing the same checks. Once he was satisfied, he rummaged around in his pack for his hunter's knife, then looped it through his belt so it sat on his back hip. Ellie watched him carefully before taking a deep breath and asking him the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"What are you gonna do to them?"

He paused, then straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Whatever I have to," he said lowly, and Ellie felt a shiver travel down her spine. She didn't ask any more questions after that.

As the sun began to set, Joel took a deep breath and double checked his gear before turning to Ellie.

"Alright. I'm gonna leave the keys with you, just in case..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Ellie's brow furrowed.

"No way, dude. I'm coming with you."

"No, you ain't," he told her. "I can't be lookin' out for a kid while I'm in there."

"You won't have to look out for me, I'll have your back!" Ellie protested angrily.

"What the hell d'you think you're gonna do?" he replied, wondering why he was wasting time arguing with a teenager.

"I don't know! But it's better than sitting in this stupid car waiting for you to get back. It's not very safe, you know. Leaving a kid all alone out here," she told him, trying everything she could think of to change his mind. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. He didn't have time for this, he just needed to get the information and get the hell out of here.

"Fine. But you better stick by me, and listen to what I tell you," he seethed, then pushed the door open and hopped out, adjusting his pack over his shoulders as he headed in the direction of the house.

Joel couldn't believe he was having the same argument with Ellie that he has with you. Fuck, he hoped you were okay. If Ellie made it out alive with the same people, you should be able to, right? He couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach when he regrettably let his mind wander to what they would want from you. As far as he knew, Ellie was just used for manual labor. But history as proven there's something else men in particular want from you.

Once they got within earshot of the house, Joel held his arm out silently to stop Ellie. He turned his head to her and pressed a finger up against his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nodded, her breath quickening as her nerves began to set in, then followed close on Joel's tail as they made their way up to the house. He ducked under the window and flattened himself up against the siding, his eyes darting up to look at the cameras angled on the corners of the roof before slowly rising and peering over the windowsill.

The curtains were closed, but he was able to see in just a crack. The living room lights were on but he didn't see any movement inside. Just when he was about to give up and try a different angle, he heard June's muffled voice. He froze, watching as she waddled into the living room from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. She didn't appear to be alarmed, so Joel took that to mean they managed to sneak by the cameras undetected.

He reached to his side and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his revolver, slowly pulling it out of his holster and holding it up in front of him. He continued to watch as Dave ambled into the living room, holding a short glass with brown liquid in it. He set the glass down and bent over to tend to the fire.

Joel ducked back down and quickly made his way around the house to the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. Ellie followed hot on his heels, her switchblade clutched tightly in her fist. He peered around the corner, making sure nobody came back into the kitchen before he tugged on the door. Locked. He put his revolver back in the holster and took out his knife, working over the lock with ease and slowly sliding the glass door open. Once Ellie was inside, he switched his knife for his gun. He flattened his hand and pushed it down, silently telling her to stay right here. She nodded, squatting down behind one of the kitchen chairs so she was out of sight.

He flattened himself against the wall next to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room, listening to June and Dave talk about the meal they had just eaten, like they hadn't just sold a human being into slavery yet again. Based on the volume of her voice, he realized that June was heading back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and widened his stance, the gun in his palm gripped tight as he waited for his moment.

"Did you want any cookies?" June asked over her shoulder. "Just made 'em today, they're-"

She let out a strangled cry as Joel hooked his arm tightly around her throat, spinning her around and pulling her back flush against his chest, his revolver pressing into her temple.

"Junebug?" Dave called, setting down his glass and pushing himself up from the sofa. Joel pushed her forward, the both of them stepping out into the living room, Joel using her body as a shield. Dave froze and Joel watched as all the blood drained from his face.

"What, weren't expectin' me?" Joel growled, and June whimpered against him.

"Wha-" Dave started, then swallowed audibly before trying again. "What'dya want?"

"I want you to tell me who the fuck you called, and where their camp is," Joel said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't call no one," Dave said, his eyes flitting around the room, trying to locate a weapon.

"Don't even think 'bout it," Joel warned, and Dave chuckled.

"C'mon, you ain't gonna hurt a woman," he said. Before Dave could blink, Joel pointed his revolver down to the ground and shot June right through the foot. She howled, her body instinctively bending forward to grab her wound, but Joel tugged her back.

"Better start talkin', or I won't be so nice next time."

"Okay, okay! Jesus!" Dave yelled, holding his hands up in the air and waving them, trying to calm Joel down. "Let her go, then I'll talk."

"Don't think so," Joel said.

"Listen, tie us up or somethin', just let her go," Dave pleaded.

"Funny hearin' you beg for your woman's life when you just sold mine to the highest bidder. Why should I be so generous?"

Dave was beginning to panic, his breaths were coming fast and his hands were shaking.

"You're right, I'm sorry, you're right. Just- please. Please. I'll tell ya whatever you wanna hear, just let her go."

Joel didn't have time for this. He didn't want to waste another minute arguing with this asshole when he could be heading to wherever you were. So, he agreed.

"Fine. I'll let her go, but I'm tyin' you both up," he said, turning back towards the kitchen and dragging June with him. He opened up a few drawers, leaving them rummaged through and open until he found a junk drawer with a pack of zip ties. He snatched them up and pushed June back into the living room. Tossing the pack on the floor, he nodded at Dave.

"Go ahead. Tie yourself up, then I'll do her," Joel said.

"Now, wait a minute. I ain't gonna tie myself first and have you go back on your word."

"Of the fucking two of us, I ain't the one who's lied, and you ain't the one to be makin' any goddamn demands!" Joel roared, his chest heaving. Dave cowered, raising his hands higher above his head and nodded.

"Alright, alright," he said shakily, then slowly leaned forward to pick up the zip ties. He opened the pack and was about to wrap up his wrists, but Joel stopped him.

"Ankles, too," he said. Dave looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it.

After tying his ankles and his hands at his waist, he limply tossed the pack of ties across the floor towards Joel.

"Sit down," he told June through gritted teeth, pushing her down into the armchair. She plopped down into the chair with a whimper, then quickly leaned down to clutch her foot.

Joel let his guard down for a minute. Just one minute to pick up the zip ties and it was all June needed. She brought her good leg down on the back of his head, knocking him down to the ground and sending his gun skittering across the room. His head bounced off the floor, making him see stars for a moment before he scrambled to try to stand back up, but she brought her leg down across his back with enough force to knock him down again.

"You son of a bitch!" she screeched at him. She tried to stand and grab his gun, but she stumbled, the bullet wound in her foot making her unable to walk.

"Get the gun, Junebug!" Dave yelled from his spot on the sofa. "Get the gun and shoot him in the goddamn head!"

Joel rolled onto his back to create distance from her so he could finally stand up. When he did, he realized the room had gone deathly silent. He swiveled his head around, trying to figure out why they stopped screaming, and then he saw Ellie. She was standing in the doorway with his rifle trained on June's head, her eyes hard and her hands still.

"Ellie," June whispered. She inched forward on the ground towards her, but Ellie just cocked the rifle. June froze.

"Ellie, you shoot that fucker right between the eyes," Dave ordered from the couch. When it became apparent that Ellie was not on their side, Joel bent down to pick up his revolver with a grunt. Dave nervously glanced back and forth between her and Joel.

"Ellie-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Did you sell me to them, too?" Her voice was unwavering, her gaze like daggers.

"'Course not," June said, interrupting them.

"Really? Then how'd he know who to call? How'd they get past your cameras?"

"How did you get past 'em?" June shrieked. "It ain't impossible!"

"June, just give it up," Dave said from behind her, his shoulders sagging.

The room was silent. Joel looked over at Ellie, then back at Dave.

"Gimme the gun, kiddo," Joel said gently, taking a step toward her with his hand out.

"I wanna hear him say it," she said, her grip tightening on the stock.

"Fine, we sold ya, that what you wanna hear? Paid for half the shit in that basement, too, and look at you - you're fuckin' fine!" Dave shouted, spit spraying from his lips. Ellie's brows furrowed and her eyes lit up in rage.

"What? You gonna kill me?" Dave asked with a laugh.

"She won't," Joel said, stepping in front of the rifle, blocking Ellie's shot. "But I will."

Dave's smile faltered as he looked up at Joel.

"Ellie?" Joel said over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to Dave.

"Yeah?"

"You got headphones?"

"Yeah."

"Go upstairs, put 'em on," Joel said, holding his arm out to his side. She paused for a moment before dropping the gun from her shoulder and handing him the rifle, then turned to head up the stairs.

"Wait! Ellie!" June sobbed, tears streaming down her face. But Ellie kept walking. "I'm sorry!" June added, hoping she would garner some sympathy.

"No, you ain't," Joel muttered, leaning the gun against the wall before turning back to her. "But you're gonna be."

An hour. He wasted a whole fucking hour with these assholes, playing their stupid games and listening to their pathetic pleas until his eye caught the time on the wall and his anger flared. He needed to get on the road. He needed to find you. He wouldn't be able to sleep or eat until he did.

He had them both tied up, sitting on the floor with their backs to each other. Dave was partially right. Joel didn't like the idea of hurting a woman. So he went relatively easy on her. However, after that hour was up, she was still bruised and bloodied, but it was nothing compared to Dave.

Dave was barely holding on to consciousness and unfortunately was trying to feed Joel false information on where you were taken. He caught him in a lie twice already, and his anger got the best of him both times. With a sigh, he stood up and flexed his bloodied hand.

"You still with me?" Joel asked, leaning over Dave's body. He heard a grunt in response.

"Can't do much more to you, you'll pass out. So I'm sorry to have to do it," Joel walked around in a circle slowly, stopping when he found himself in front of June. "But I'll have to start takin' her fingers."

June began sobbing again and behind her, Dave groaned. Joel took the bloodied knife he had set on the coffee table and held out his arm.

"Gimme your hand," he told June calmly, and her sobbing turned into hysterics, her tied hands pressed firmly into her lap.

"Gimme your fuckin' hand, or tell me where they took her!" he roared, making her jump.

"I'll tell you!" she said, tears and snot streaming down her face. Joel felt a bit of relief, then leaned back to grab the map from his back pocket.

"Point to it. And it better be the same spot he points to," he said darkly. She nodded and lifted her hands shakily after squinting at the map.

"There," she said. He peered down, noting she pointed to a hospital in Salt Lake City, and his blood ran cold. He wasn't certain, but it appeared to be the same hospital he and Tommy were supposed to take Ellie. He stood up and walked back around to Dave, who was glaring up at him through one eye, the other was swollen shut.

"They'll kill us," Dave said weakly when Joel held out the map.

"Shoulda thought 'bout that before doin' business with a bunch of slavers," Joel told him bitterly.

"I ain't tellin' you shit," Dave said, squaring his shoulders. June began whimpering behind him.

"That's okay," Joel said, dropping the map on the coffee table. "I believe her."

He rammed the hunting knife through Dave's chest with a grunt. The man let out a small squeal before his head fell forward limply. June screamed and tried to scoot away on the floor, but Joel grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

"Shut up, or you're next," he snarled, and her screams immediately stopped.

"It's no use," she sobbed, leaning forward and gasping for air. "You won't get her back. It's been too long, they move 'em around so fast-"

Joel had enough. He took the butt of his rifle and hit her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

She may think he wouldn't get you back, but she had no idea what he's capable of.

The drive back north was quiet. Ellie saw the blood on Joel's hands and clothes. Even though he did his best to clean up before bringing her downstairs, she still pieced it together. He had hid Dave's body in the basement with the camera equipment, then dragged June down there, still unconscious, and tied her loosely to a workbench. She could eventually figure out how to get out of the restraints. It was just to ensure he had enough time to put distance between them. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to kill her. But at the last minute, he did decide to grab one of those AK-47s Dave was bragging about two days ago.

Ellie didn't ask questions. She stared silently out the window, lost in thought about her own flesh and blood betraying her. Then she glanced at Joel, realizing this man who couldn't stand the sight of her just a week ago did more for her than her own family.

"Thank you," she finally said, breaking the silence. He blinked and turned his head briefly to look at her.

"You're welcome," he said gruffly. "You didn't, uh, see or hear anythin', did'ya?"

"No," she said, and Joel sighed with relief.

"Good."

He picked up the speed when he reached a part of the interstate that was flat, determined to reach you as soon as possible.

"They told me they took her to a hospital in Salt Lake City," he said after a while, and she looked up from her sketch pad as she listened. "I think it might be the same spot the Fireflies wanted us to take you."

"Oh," she said, sitting back in her seat, deep in thought. "I wonder why they wanted her there."

"What'dya mean?"

Ellie paused, remembering Joel still didn't know the real reason Marlene asked him to take her. She decided to be somewhat honest with him, considering all he had done for her, it was the least she could do.

"It's a research facility," she said.

"Research? For what?"

"I overheard some stuff once. They're trying to find a cure," she said. "For the virus."

"A cure?" Joel repeated, furrowing his brow. "The hell they need her for?"

Ellie chewed her lip nervously before answering.

"Test subjects," she finally said, her face falling. Joel swallowed thickly as the implication behind her words set in.

"Ellie," he said slowly, gripping the wheel tightly. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I had a friend. She was taken there, she never came back. I found out later what happened," she sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"And that's why they wanted us to take you there? To test a cure on you?"

"Yeah," Ellie lied, shifting her gaze out the window, immediately feeling guilty. She wasn't lying about the test subjects, but she didn't feel comfortable yet telling him it was her blood they wanted to test next.

Joel drove through the night, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers numb, but he made it in about 8 hours. It was still dark out as he found a secluded spot a couple blocks away and parked the truck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, wondering how the hell he was going to do this. Ellie stirred in the seat next to him, yawning and stretching before looking around.

"Are we here?"

"Yeah. Hospital's that tall building over there," he said, pointing to the side. She looked through the window and nodded before looking back at Joel.

"You should get some rest," she told him, but he shook his head.

"Can't."

"Yeah, you can. How do you think you're gonna do this when you've been up for, what, a day and a half?"

"I don't got a choice, they could be doin' shit to her right now," he argued, then leaned over the seat to grab the hunting rifle.

"They've only had her for a day, she's fine. Most they did at this point was inject her with an experimental vaccine. They don't test it for a few days," she explained, sitting back in her seat. Joel frowned.

"How do you know all this?"

Ellie shrugged and nervously chewed on her nail.

"Just do."

Joel just stared at her. He was beginning to realize she was hiding something from him, but he couldn't worry about it yet. He didn't think Ellie would have any reason to lie to him, so he considered his options: take her word for it and get some rest so he could be as strong as possible to take all those fuckers down, or go in blind and weak right now and hope for the best.

"And when you say they 'test it', d'you mean..."

"They keep infected in there," she said with a nod. "Best way to test it is to get bit and watch."

"Fuck," Joel whispered, shakily running his hand over his mouth as he stared out the windshield. "You're gonna tell me how you know all this shit after we get her back, you hear me?" His tone was firm and his jaw was set as he shot her a glare. She nodded.

"Alright," he said after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Here's the plan. You keep watch, I try to get some rest for a couple hours. Then we move. Before I just storm in there, I gotta see what we're dealin' with. Think you can handle that?" He finally turned to Ellie and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Yeah," she said, sitting up in her seat. "I can handle it."

Reluctantly, Joel handed her the rifle. She eagerly took it from his grip.

"For the scope. So you can see anythin' comin' our way when I'm out," he explained, then eyed up the way she was holding the gun. "You ever use one of these things?"

"No, can't be that hard, can it? Just point and shoot," she said with a shrug as she examined the firearm. Joel sighed before leaning over and giving her a quick tutorial.

"Just don't fuckin' shoot me when I'm sleepin'," he told her, then tipped the seat back and bunched his coat up around his neck, closing his eyes. She grinned then took her post, scanning the perimeter every few minutes for any movement while Joel snored softly in the driver's seat.

Ellie weighed her options. Should she tell him the truth? Should she tell him she's immune? Would it even matter? She decided against it for now. It wouldn't change the plan. Maybe one day she would tell him. Once they got you back and the three of you were safely back in Jackson. For now, she had to stay focused and help rescue you. She wouldn't let the Fireflies take another one of her friends.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie

340 notes · View notes

awearywritersworld · 10 months

Text

stay as long as you need

fushiguro toji x reader summary: toji can't stop hanging around his new neighbor, even though she has a boyfriend. oh well, he knows he's better for her anyway. w/c: 1.2k tags/warnings: hurt/comfort. angst to fluff. domestic violence perpetrated by reader's boyfriend, but nothing terribly graphic; the incident is discussed after the fact, not depicted. implied age gap. protective!toji. toji actually being nice. cliche "who did this to you" moment. fem!reader a/n: WHY IS HE SO HOT??????? I JUST WANT HIM TO TAKE CARE OF MEEEEEEEEE (OR CRUSH ME WITH HIS THIGHS, IM NOT PICKY) on a less unhinged note, thanks for reading!! masterlist

"need some help?"

you nearly jump upon hearing the words, having been lost in your own little world. when you turn around, you're met with a dark haired, well built man and just the sight of him makes your cheeks feel hot.

"oh, i- um," you glance between him and the heavy box in your hands.

he's already taking it from you though, effortlessly balancing it in one hand before opening the door for you with the other.

"thanks," you squeak out, stepping inside your new apartment building.

he smirks down at you, eyes raking over your body. toji isn't exactly the good samaritan type, but for a pretty little thing like you, he can certainly make an exception.

the elevator button lights up when he presses it. "just moving in?"

"yup! third floor. getting everything up there has been quite the ordeal, so i appreciate your help," you explain sweetly.

when the metal doors slide open, he lets you step inside first.

"hm, all by yourself? no boyfriend in the picture?" well, the sorcerer killer has never been one for subtly.

"yeah, actually," you return sheepishly. "he's just out with his friends at the moment."

"that so?" you don't see the look of judgement that crosses his face, though it isn't at all directed toward you.

once you emerge on your floor, toji follows along just a step behind you. he can't help his amusement when you stop at your door. "would you look at that. i guess we're neighbors now."

his head nods toward his own apartment, just two doors down from yours. "oh good! i'm glad this wasn't too far out of your way."

"don't worry about it, wouldn't have been any trouble either way."

you offer him a bashful smile before your door clicks open, revealing quite a few boxes just inside. "you can just put that anywhere, don't mind the mess.. i'm (y/n), by the way."

"toji." he places it on top of one of the other boxes, honestly impressed that you managed to get so many upstairs by yourself. "can i have your car keys?"

he thinks the look of confusion that crosses your features is just too cute. "what for?"

he chuckles because it should be obvious, but clearly you aren't used to being taken care of. "to get the rest of your boxes, princess."

~~~

the next afternoon, toji answers a knock at his door and finds you on the other side. you've got a plate of fresh cookies in your hand, which you shyly offer to the tall man. "these are for you. thank you so much for all your help yesterday! i couldn't have done it without you."

"thanks, you didn't have to," he tells you, although he's happy you did. when he pulls them from your grasp, his hands brush yours. he invites you in, insisting he can't enjoy them alone, but really he just wants to get to know you.

and he does. over the next few weeks, you spend a surprising amount of time in one another's company. whenever he bumps into you in the hall, he'll chat with you for a while, even (or, especially) when he's running late to a job.

one day you mention that a shelf you ordered came disassembled, so he offers to come over and put it together for you. of course you show up at his door the next day with a new plate of cookies.

another morning, toji groans when he discovers that he's out of tea, but quickly realizes it's the perfect excuse to knock on your door. when it swings open, he swallows thickly, taking in your tiny shorts and thin tank top. it was obvious you'd just woken up.

you're no better than he is with the way your eyes trail over his fitted tshirt, then down to the sweatpants that hang loosely around his waist. you're both too preoccupied staring to notice the other doing the same.

"mornin', sleepy beauty," he says with a lopsided grin.

"good morning, toji." you return his smile, your greeting a saccharine melody to his ears. oh, the things he'd do to have you all to himself.

he explains his predicament and you're more than happy to invite him inside. you both sit at your kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and chatting about your day. the domesticity off it all leaves a pleasant taste in his mouth, which is bizarre seeing as up until a few weeks ago, he'd have found the thought down right repulsive.

but he just can't get you out of his head. you're too sweet for your own good, too young to know what you deserve in a man, and he's more than willing to show you.

he knows you're not available, but makes no attempt to stifle his growing fondness toward you. after all, he'd only ever seen your boyfriend once.

you were returning from a rare afternoon out just as he was leaving to pick up something for lunch. you looked so good in your cute little dress that he hardly even noticed your boyfriend at first.

"hey, (y/n)," toji greeted you. "who's this?"

he didn't give you a chance to speak, just pulled you into his side. "her boyfriend."

"ah," he leered, his nose crinkled. "i wasn't sure since i never see you around."

your eyes flickered between the two men somewhat nervously. toji towered over your boyfriend, a feat he took great satisfaction in.

a humorless laugh came from your left. "prefer to have her over at my place."

toji didn't respond right away, just looked down at you, taking note of your quietness. he briefly recalled the time you mentioned how much it bothered you that your boyfriend never came to visit, that you always had to make the effort.

"right.. well, you're a lucky man." he looked much more smug by then, his head falling to the side. "your girl has the best cookies around."

toji moves past both of you without waiting for a reply, roughly clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. "see you around, (y/n)."

~~~

nearly two weeks later, toji's leaving his apartment late in the evening, as his current job can really only be taken care of during the nighttime hours. he doesn't expect to see many people in the halls, so he's surprised to find you at your apartment door.

the hood of your sweatshirt is pulled over your head, obscuring your face from his view. "(y/n)?"

you don't respond, so he takes a step toward you. it's only then he notices the way your hands are trembling, struggling with the lock. he reaches out, but when his fingers brush your arm, you jump back as if you'd been completely oblivious to his presence.

"hey-" he begins to say, but stops once he sees your face. his eyes darken and his jaw tenses, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as a result.

your cheekbone is bright red, a small cut stretching across the center of the mark. your eyes watch him, wide and fearful, and you're all but frozen in place.

"who did this to you?"

he's struggling to keep his composure, the sight of your bruised face enough to have his heart hammering away angrily in his chest. you look away, tears forming in your eyes, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"was it him?" he presses.

you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to keep from crying. "i-it's okay, though. he didn't mean it, really, and-"

"look me in the face and try that again."

you meet his gaze, somewhat unwillingly, and whimper. "i.. i can't."

he sighs quietly, his job already forgotten for the night, and moves toward you. he remembers how you flinched away from him just moments ago. "..can i touch you?"

you nod once more and he hesitantly pulls you against his chest. it's getting harder and harder to keep your emotions in check, especially with the slow circles his hand is drawing on your back.

"i was so scared, toji," you finally admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"i know, but you're safe now. won't let 'im touch you ever again," he promises, fully intent on keeping it.

his words push you over the edge and you grab at his shirt as you begin to weep, your knees buckling beneath you. he supports your weight, rocking you back and forth. "you're okay. it's going to be okay."

after a minute or two, he finally hears you take a shaky breath and relief fills his chest at the sound. "see? just like that, baby. in and out."

you do as he says and after a few more breaths, he pulls away from you and takes your hand. "c'mon. let's get you cleaned up."

leading you into his apartment, he goes straight to the bathroom. you gasp when he grabs you by the hips and hoists you up onto the counter before searching for his first aid kit. when he pulls it down from the cabinet, he moves to stand between your legs.

grabbing you by the chin, he tilts your head to get a better look your injury. the redness is already transitioning to a darker hue and he knows it'll look even worse tomorrow.

"gonna clean the cut, okay? it might sting."

"okay," you sniffle.

he rips open an alcohol wipe, dabbing it gently against your cheekbone. when you wince in pain, he offers a quiet apology, but he's finished before long, having applied a bit of ointment as well.

"thank you," you murmur.

both of his hands find your thighs, resting on the area just above your knees. "don't thank me. not for this."

there's an edge to his voice, but you know it's not directed toward you. your hands settle on top of his own, quelling his anger for the time being.

"you know," he grunts, his gaze lingering on your cheek before it shifts toward your eyes. "i could never lay a hand on you."

his expression is much softer now than it was in the hallway and he savors the small smile that tugs at your lips. "i know, toji."

as he looks down at you, he knows he's done for. hell, he's known it for a while now. you deserve to be adored. taken care of. made to feel good... and toji is more than confident in his ability to do so.

for a fleeting moment, he considers the fact it wouldn't be hard to find out where your boyfriend lives, to make sure he never raises a hand to you again, but your gentle voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"can i stay with you tonight?" you ask meekly.

"yeah, 'course.. you can stay as long as you need."

jjk taglist: @torusmochi

#m!writes #toji #toji x reader #toji imagines #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

1K notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 5 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

369 notes · View notes

light-lanterne · 11 months

Text

This story follows the general concept of @foodiewithdahoodie's cannibal Will / serial killer Mike AU, the likes of which is vaguely inspired by 'Bones and All' and other cannibal and vampire media. It’s important to note that this story is rated Mature and gets quite descriptive and dark, so please be mindful when reading. For context, this happens after S2, with Will finally free of the Mind Flayer and things returning to normal… except Will didn't return quite "right", and now has an insatiable hunger he can't quench with normal food. CW: cannibalism, murder and violence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☽ - - - - - - - - - - - - - 𐕣 read on ao3 (tba) || support me on ko-fi! 𐕣 @foodiewithdahoodie's posts: i - ii - iii - iv - tag 𐕣 @fluffyfangirl's incredible art: ♡ - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☽ - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This wasn’t supposed to happen, was the first coherent thought Will had since he abruptly left class earlier, thoughts fuzzy and limbs heavy after wandering the empty hallways of Hawkins Middle School in a daze for what felt like hours. He vaguely remembered someone calling his name, followed by some snickers and the louder voice of Mrs. Grabowski trying to catch his attention as he exited the classroom, not a word spoken to justify his sudden departure.

Of course, it was weird, and one would think that considering the circumstances someone would’ve said something or even chased after him. But no, no one followed him and why would they? No one in that classroom was his friend. After all, he was Will Byers, the quiet kid that had never really fit in and, more recently, the boy that had gone missing and had mysteriously come back to life. The weirdo. The freak. Zombie Boy. An abomination, someone who’d been acting strange for a while and was finally back to school for the first time in a week. Unwelcomed. Unwanted. Unknown.

Different.

Will was different and everyone had been able to tell for a long time, except his oddity now extended far beyond what his classmates, teachers, friends and family could ever imagine and he himself found it hard to understand what was happening to him.

All he knew was that ever since he was freed from the Mind Flayer’s possession, things had been strange.

He first became aware of it when he woke up in the hospital, Chief Hopper somehow managing to convince his mom to take him there to spend the rest of the week recovering. And it made sense, to a degree, for his possession hadn’t been too different from a terrible flu and he really needed all the help he could get to recover.

But the second he woke up he could tell something was wrong. He could tell something was not quite right the second he noticed his own eyes lingering as a nurse walked by the door with blood bags in hand, stomach rumbling with a vengeance at the sight. Naturally, this then prompted the nurses to fetch him something to eat, and Will was immediately invaded with memories of one of his last “meals”, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he remembered the snacks he’d eaten all those days ago, in Mike’s basement during Halloween night. Back when everything was normal and he was still just himself, the son of Joyce Byers and brother of Jonathan; friend of Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, the new girl Max Mayfield, and Mike Wheeler. He could almost savour the cheesy Doritos and sweet Kit-Kats; the fizzy Fanta and the delicious Reese’s snacks Mike had collected and slipped into his candy bag all throughout the night.

A stark contrast to what he’d been given to eat then, by the nurses.

And hospital food was never supposed to taste good, he knew this, but it was at the very least supposed to be filling and it’d been weird to find out just how empty he still felt even after what was objectively a rather full meal. Not even three jellies had been enough to quench his hunger and the nurses believed it to be a side effect of his week-long illness, their reassuring words directed at his mom moreso than him because it was clear she was beyond concerned.

But Will had known better. Even if he hadn’t had a name for it then, and even if he still couldn’t grasp the reality of the situation, he knew that wasn’t the reason behind his insatiable hunger.

It wasn’t hard to figure it out, to be completely fair. The dreams… the nightmares he’d been having were enough to clue him into the severity of his condition, visions of death and murder a clear indicator that something was terribly wrong with him. Pictures of himself hunched over, feasting on the rotten corpse of the sweet Barbara Holland something that would haunt even the strongest of men. He looked… Animalistic. Desperate. Hungry.

(He’d been hungry as he bit into Barbara’s side, once the Demogorgon was gone and his starving twelve-year-old self was able to eat something for the first time in days.)

It was… wrong. He was wrong. An error. A mistake, just like his dad had always said he was, except his depravity was now far darker than anything anyone could’ve foretold. Flawed. Messed up. Fucked up. So very fucked up.

And at first, it had repulsed him. Humans were not supposed to dream about killing and eating other people, and the fact that Will was having these confusing fantasies was enough to scare him into not wanting to eat any meat for the rest of his time in the hospital, his refusal a constant point of contention between himself, his mom and the nurses. ‘You need to eat if you want to go home,’ they’d tell him, and he’d shake his head with vehemence and bury himself under the covers until they agreed to let him have more soup instead. He’d find excuses and lies to tell Jonathan whenever their mother sent him in to try to convince Will of giving up his fight.

But he couldn’t lie to himself for much longer, not when the hunger was so strong, and not when the nightmares became a part of his daily life. When the yearning for blood became the only thing he was able to think about the whole day, eyes trailing over the translucent skin of those around him in the search for blue veins, fingers twitching to wrap themselves around frail necks and press until life vacated its vessel… Not when his mouth salivated at the idea of ripping skin open and snapping people’s bones to expose what laid within, and certainly not when his heart picked up speed whenever the desire to sink teeth into supple flesh and bite and tear and feed popped back up in the forefront of his mind.

Will was not a liar by nature, and each passing day he found it harder and harder to deny that whoever his mom, Jonathan and Nancy had rescued was not the Will they’d known. They’d gone into the cabin searching to get rid of the parasitic entity that had invaded him, and had left with something that was not entirely human. Not fully. Not anymore.

It was sad. He should be sad. Life had thrown him nothing but punches ever since he had memory, and this felt like the biggest middle finger the universe could have possibly ever given him. It wasn’t enough to send him into another dimension full of nothing but fear and agony, a monster constantly hunting for him for some reason and his home —the place he was supposed to feel safe at— suddenly a maze of horror and desperation. It wasn’t enough to let him listen to his loved ones search for him relentlessly, their pain everything he could hear as he hid from the horrors, their voices a constant reminder of the love and life he was sure he’d lose for there was no way they could reach him in that purgatory. It wasn’t enough to bring his misery back a year later, his body becoming host to the very creature that was behind everything that had happened to him since that horrible night in November when he was only twelve, his mind slowly slipping away into oblivion as everyone he loved succumbed to his treason.

No, that hadn’t been enough. Now he was cursed and tainted and was infested with something from Hell itself and he had no way of escaping it. This terrible emptiness that now riddled his twisted soul was a constant reminder of everything bad that had ever happened to him, and he should be angry at the way fate kept mocking and taunting him at every waking moment.

He should be annoyed. Pissed. Enraged.

And he was, at least for a bit. Bitter, that was. But he stopped caring as soon as he realised something. Found something. And it wasn’t anything he thought he’d ever have, but the fact that he did was enough to ease his pain and loneliness and transform them into something much better. Much purer.

Mike’s acceptance.

Granted, he hadn’t necessarily been searching for it and he was still in absolute disbelief that Mike had even found out about it in the first place, but it was a fact that Mike was okay with… whatever this was, and Will wasn’t going to pretend that it wasn’t the best feeling in the world to know that Mike still thought of Will as a friend, despite what he knew. That Mike still saw him as someone worthy of his affection and care, despite Will’s new… nature.

It’d happened a few days earlier, on Will’s first day out of the hospital and back home. The rest of the Party wasn’t there, for everyone thought it’d be better to let him readapt slowly, but Mike had always been stubborn and Will’s mom had found it really hard to send him away the moment he showed up in their front door with an armful of snacks and the entirety of the Star Wars film saga shoved into his backpack, right under Mike’s sleeping bag and pajamas. Will’s mom had always had a soft spot for Mike, after all, and it wasn’t like Mike hadn’t been of huge help during the entire Mind Flayer ordeal, so he’d definitely earned his way into spending the night over.

For the first few hours, things were normal, their favourite movie playing as they whispered useless gossip to one another in between chips like they’d always done. Then everything got awkward for a few minutes, when Luke lost his hand on screen and Mike interpreted Will’s sudden tension as fear, as opposed to overbearing hunger and desire; excusing himself to the bathroom in order to try and regain some semblance of composure, Will then spent a good ten minutes staring into his reflection, eyes dark and hands jittery as he imagined himself consuming the flesh off of someone, anyone’s bony hand. After what felt like forever, he was able to return to the living room and it wasn’t easy to convince Mike that everything was okay, but eventually Will managed and they finished the rest of their marathon in peace.

And that’s when things changed. When Will couldn’t control his urges any further.

In retrospect, there was no way he could've held back, no matter how hard he tried. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to grab Mike’s finger after the lovable idiot cut himself with the edge of their Cocoa Puffs box, Mike’s skin always so soft and delicate that the thin cardboard was enough to cause him such an injury. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to bring the slender finger close to his lips, the motion not too different from what they both did to each other as kids whenever they got hurt, except this time Will wasn’t planning on giving the injury a little peck. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to open his mouth and slowly, tenderly, lap at the small cut with his tongue not unlike a cat cleaning itself, the fact that he’d just grabbed Mike’s hand to taste his blood only registering in his mind well over a minute after he was done savouring the delicious, forbidden crimson nectar that he’d been craving all week.

All he knew was that one moment he was looking at Mike as he got a small paper cut, and the next moment he was blurting out apologies and excuses for what he’d just done, his ranting interrupted only by the way Mike wrapped his secure, grounding arms around Will’s torso, pulling him impossibly close and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, not stopping until he was convinced that Will had calmed down.

He told Mike everything after that. The nightmares, his odd yearnings, his fears. Exposed at last, all laid out for Mike to judge and repudiate him for and to a degree, he wished Mike would’ve told him it was wrong. That he was a monster, a freak, and that they needed to find a way to get Will’s destructive thoughts to end before he ended up hurting someone. That they needed to go to his mom’s room and get her to gather the troops, get a hold of doctor Owens so he could figure things out, something.

Everything would’ve been better if Mike had rejected him. It was the moral thing to do, and Will considered himself a good enough person to recognise this.

If Mike had told him this was wrong, Will would’ve clung to everything he’d ever learned about good and evil, would’ve tried harder to get better, would’ve tried to be satiated with normal food. He would’ve done everything in his power to reject that with which he’d been left behind by the Upside Down, would’ve listened attentively to anything the shady government doctors told him to do… Hell, he would have even prayed every night until he could confidently say that he was over that weird phase of his life and everything was behind him, the fact that his soul had been corrupted for way longer than his strange appetite nothing in comparison to the things he wished he could do to Mike now that he’d tasted his sweet alluring blood.

Mike should’ve told him off. If he had, this wouldn’t be happening.

But he hadn’t and now Will didn’t care that it was wrong. He didn’t care that his desires made him a monster, and he didn’t care that his instincts had taken a hold of him and he’d let go of control the second Troy cornered him in the empty hallway.

Why would he care, anyway? Mike had told him it was okay, that he should do whatever felt right at any moment because it was his body requesting what it needed to recover. The world had already failed them all one too many times, anyway, so it wasn’t wrong for him to take something back, right? At least that’s what Mike had reasoned with him, once he was sure Will finally accepted that he didn’t mind just how weird things had gotten, his eyes warm as he reassured Will into accepting his new needs. His new self. Crooked and perverted. Savage and insatiable. Ready to devour anyone that crossed his path, an emerging predator in a world so full of prey no one would miss a few people.

And sure, part of Will still wished Mike had dissuaded his disturbing thoughts because now it was impossible to muffle them once they took a hold of his soul. Now it was impossible to keep the freak on a leash.

Hence his current conundrum.

But it didn’t matter. What was done, was done and for what it was worth, Will had enjoyed it. Granted, he couldn’t remember all the details of what’d happened, but he knew enough to put the missing pieces together: he’d been aimlessly wandering the halls in a trance, wound up in the closed-for-renovation section of the school, and Troy had tried to mess with him. So, Will had naturally lunged at him and tore his throat open with teeth and nails, blood sputtering out from the carotid and straight into Will’s greedy mouth as they both fell to the floor and Will found enough grip to shred a piece of some muscle apart, nearly choking at the mouthful for he was seemingly too delirious to chew slowly or wait before taking another bite. And then another. And another.

Because that’s what he did now, apparently. It’s what his inner beast demanded and Mike had told him to listen to it, so Will was just doing what he was told and frankly, he should’ve never questioned Mike’s judgement. Mike had always been smart, after all, so Will couldn’t understand why he was so surprised at the fact that following his advice could end up in something that felt so… fulfilling. Ecstatic. It was like watching his favourite film or eating Reese’s Pieces for the first time again, opening Christmas presents or winning a D&D campaign. It felt great, the thrill of each bite bringing him to a new level of euphoria he’d never experienced and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever lived without this. Wasn’t sure how he’d ever go back to an existence without this bliss. And cognitively he knew that this was the Mind Flayer’s fault, and that a month ago he never would’ve wanted or needed to do this.

But now he did, and he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about how good it felt, the pit in his stomach gone for the first time in a week, and his hunger quelled at last. His new self was satisfied, the amalgamation of Will Byers and the being from the Upside Down finally synchronised and united in harmony, and a dopey smile adorning his features as he showered in the rapture of his new awakening.

Even in his floaty state, however, he could tell when someone approached. It was as though he had reached enlightenment, now that his innards were filled to the brim with warm blood and flesh, and he was now suddenly hyperaware of every little movement in his inner and outer world. And of course, he was satisfied with the meal he’d just had —or else he would’ve kept eating until nothing was left behind—, but the idea of eating some more didn’t sound too displeasing. In fact, now that the thought had crossed his mind he found himself… eager. Defiant. It was irrational and dangerous, but he really wished that whoever was coming stumbled across him and what he’d done, if only to get the excuse to hurt and kill and feast again.

He wanted it. Craved it. He’d always been curious and now he really wanted to know if all humans tasted the same or if there were subtle differences and he knew it wasn’t him thinking about these things, it was the beast that now lived within him. But they were now one and the same and Will was ready to let that side of himself take control and paint the walls in beautiful patterns of red as he ripped into someone’s skin once more; ready to let himself fill his stomach with someone else until there was no more room and he felt sick.

Alas, he didn’t get the chance to kill again. Not because he didn’t want to, for he couldn’t ignore that a part of him was really desperate to enact such violence upon his unexpected visitor, but because he couldn’t. Not to him, not after everything they’d been through together and after the promises they’d made.

He owed it to Mike to try to at least be a little normal around him and, perhaps more importantly, maybe not kill him.

“Will?” Mike asked, eyes wide open as he stepped through a plastic sheet someone had put in place to protect the rest of the hallway from dust and now blood. His hair was wild, ruffled by wind as if he’d been running, and it didn’t take a genius to understand that Mike had probably been searching for him, rumours quick to spread across school even if it’d only been about fifteen minutes since he left and everyone was supposed to still be in class.

Mike looked… pretty. With his pink cheeks and parted red lips, sparkly eyes and tender round cheeks. Poking from under his soft sweater, Mike’s slim neck seemed to beckon to Will, the bare skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat in a way that was really hard to ignore, the angle at which Mike had tilted his head exposing the delicious dips and cliffs of muscle and vessels that Will was buzzing with excitement to take into his mouth and destroy. It was hard to ignore it, the urge, but just like the beast had taken control of him, Will knew he could control it back if need be.

So he did. He stood up slowly and didn’t lunge at Mike as he spoke, words slurred like every time he ate a lot and needed a nap.

“I was hungry,” was all he could say, sheepish as the realisation that he’d just succumbed to his twisted desires dawned on him for the first time. The horrors he’d shared with Mike… The nightmares he’d been trying to avoid… It all felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts, one he didn’t even try to fight back and couldn’t be bothered to feel bad about.

All he could feel was shame and fear. Shame that someone he cared so much for saw him like that, covered in Troy Walsh’s blood with a potentially mad look in his eyes, and fear that Mike’s promises had been empty and, now that he saw the extent of Will’s insanity, he left him alone.

Once again, however, Will was reminded of the fact that he should never doubt Mike. “I can see that,” his friend scoffed once he was free of his shock, his eyes scanning the scene with apparent disinterest right before setting on Will, warmth inundating them as if he’d just seen a puppy or a beautiful sunrise and Will could almost cry at the realisation that yes, Mike would honour his promise to be by Will’s side as they explored this new side of his and no, he wouldn’t leave him alone.

Despite knowing each other for eight years, Mike Wheeler continued to impress him every single day.

“Sorry; I know it’s a mess,” Will shot back, tentative smile on his lips as he, unreasonably, kept expecting things to go South. After all, he was Will Byers and his luck was never the best. No one should blame him for expecting the worst.

This time, however, his concern was completely unnecessary. “Don’t worry, we can fix it,” Mike simply said, and that was all it took for Will’s smile to become sincere. Smiling back as if they’d just shared a private joke, Mike approached and poked his arm, gentle eyes searching for his as he asked his next question. “Do you feel any better?” He said, and Will could only nod because he was still not sure of how much Mike would want to hear about his little escapade.

“I think it’s what I was missing.”

Mike beamed at his words, clearly happy to see Will recovering his health at long last even if the price was an unconventional one and it took all of Will’s willpower not to jump him and bite into the folds of his smile. “Good,” Mike giggled, then looked around at the small, plastic-wrapped alcove Will had chosen to commit his horrible crime and nodded to himself. “We should get started now. You up for it?” Will nodded again, his smile faltering slightly as he heard what Mike had to say next. “Great! I’m going to need your help; I can’t carry his corpse by myself.”

Right, about that…

“He’s still alive,” Will declared, a frown now between his eyebrows because despite all the damage he’d caused to Troy’s neck and shoulder, the asshole was still very much breathing and —perhaps more importantly— awake.

Awake and with wide eyes, terror clear in his pupils as he desperately tried to yell, say something, make a singular noise. But he couldn’t, not after what Will had done to his throat, not after his larynx was nearly ripped out of his body at the crux of Will’s frenzy, voice box reduced to a mangled mess that Will had only left behind because of how tendony and unpleasant that area had felt when he bit into it, the swelling his failed bite had caused somehow managing to slow down the haemorrhage so much that Troy was still holding on for dear life, a whole five minutes after the original attack.

It was… odd, to see someone so loud and obnoxious like Troy suddenly reduced to a quivering mess, unable to move out of fear of bleeding out and unable to make a sound as if Will had designed his attack to render him powerless in retribution for the years of abuse the entire Party had endured at the hands of his current victim when, in reality, Will had only attacked in blind hunger. Now that Troy was laying in a pool of his own blood, however, Will couldn’t help the perverse satisfaction that took over his brain as he realised that he’d done it: he’d fulfilled his years-long desire to get back at Troy for everything he’d done and no matter how this all ended, it was a fact that the bully would never, ever, touch any of his friends again.

It was deliciously twisted, and the grumble in Will’s stomach was enough indication that such trail of thoughts was reawakening the side of his that would never stop being hungry, the idea of depriving Troy of the arms and hands he’d used to harm them for years almost loud enough to obfuscate Mike’s voice.

Almost.

Like a bee to honey, he could never fully ignore Mike Wheeler, his soft voice doing little to hide the darkness in his words and perhaps that was the reason Will was able to ignore his renewed appetite for a few more seconds.

“Not for long,” Mike mumbled, dark eyes fixed on the writhing shape that laid on the floor in front of them. Noticing he had Will’s entire attention on him, Mike forced a smile and dismissively gestured towards Troy’s body. “Tell me when you’re ready to go,” he said and, when Will only nodded again, he continued speaking. “Good. Give me a second.”

And with that, putting on a gym-class jacket atop his outfit and clenching his hand around the handle of a hammer Will hadn’t noticed he’d grabbed, the sweet, adorable-looking Mike Wheeler he’d known his whole life rose his arm with determination and, after a beat, swung the hammer right into Troy’s head, the mute boy letting out a weak breath in lieu of a scream for Will had already deprived him of the chance to let his death be known to the world. When that didn’t kill him, Mike swung the hammer again. And again. Over and over until Troy’s face became unrecognisable mush, whatever skull structure he’d ever had being reduced to nothing but bone splinters and blood. They could easily leave the body there and no one would ever be able to tell who it belonged to at that point, the viciousness with which his friend turned their once-bully into a pulp something Will had never expected to witness from someone as gentle and kind-hearted as Mike.

It was a brutal attack, one that Will’s dark self very much enjoyed watching, and the satisfaction of knowing that he wasn’t the only messed up one in their friend group was something he’d have to process once they were back home playing with their Atari and stuffing their cheeks full of popcorn.

For now, however, he smiled, watching Mike’s handiwork as his beloved best friend finally let go of the hammer and sank to the floor in exhaustion, a good three metres away from their mess in order to keep his pants and shoes in pristine condition because of course he was smart enough to keep his own clothes clean from the incriminating blood. Eyeing the rise and fall of Mike’s chest as he fought to catch his breath to say something, Will decided this was as good of a time as any to mention the fact that, for some reason, he was once again in desperate need of a snack.

“Actually, I’m already hungry again,” Will spoke, his voice seemingly snapping Mike out of some trance, dark pupils dilated in what Will could only imagine was a mirror reflection of his own. When Mike arched an eyebrow in mild disbelief, Will could only shrug and smirk teasingly. “The less weight we have to carry the better, right?” He asked, and his words made Mike roll his eyes in faux annoyance.

“Just don’t overeat. You know it makes you feel sick for like a week.”

Will chuckled at that, kneeling next to Troy’s incredibly bloody corpse and grabbing one of his hands with both of his, mouth filling with saliva as plans to strip both arms down to the bone formulated in his very sick, very wretched brain. To be entirely honest, Will wasn’t sure he was capable of overeating anymore, the fact that he could probably eat Troy’s entire corpse in a day something he’d be sure to share with Mike later, when they were safe and he was done eating.

Before he took a bite, however, he was mindful enough to shoot his best friend a wide smile and a message. “Thanks, Mike,” he said, then clarified what he meant once he noticed the other’s confusion. “For having my back.”

Mike scoffed, removing the bloodied jacket from his slender body as he light-heartedly replied with two simple words.

“Crazy together.”

The callback had Will smiling from ear to ear.

“Crazy together,” he said, then let go of his conscious mind as his animal side took over and sunk his teeth into the still warm flesh of his and Mike’s first victim.

And it didn’t make much sense, and he might’ve very well imagined it in his delusional state, but as Will fed he glanced up at Mike a couple times and he could almost swear that he saw Mike’s pupils dilate again as a powerful emotion, one Will had seen a few times in the past, took over his expression. And irrational, feral and insane as he was, he was pretty certain that he’d gotten it wrong but, if Will didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Mike was jealous he wasn’t the one being eaten, torn apart and consumed by Will. Wasn’t the one eliciting such sounds of happiness and delight from him, the sweet taste of human flesh satisfying his body’s new needs and desires.

And despite being certain about the fact that he’d imagined such a reaction, Will couldn’t help but to scoff.

He’d only tasted a droplet of his blood, but Will knew for a fact that Mike was by far the most delicious person in the entirety of Hawkins; one he’d very much like to devour bit by bit, savouring every bite as he reached even higher levels of bliss he knew he’d never be able to imagine, the promise of eternal happiness something he’d only achieve the day he gave into his strongest temptation and gave Mike what he apparently desired.

Mike had no reason to be jealous at all.

#🔨#✨#🧸#byler #byler fanfiction #byler fanfic #byler ficlet #will byers #mike wheeler #dark byler agenda #cannibyler #w // graphic depictions of violence #w // cannibalism #w // murder

87 notes · View notes

cillianhead · 7 months

Note

Hii was wondering if you’d do Tommy w/ daddy kink + sex on his desk. Also I’ve been binge reading your fics! Great work <3!

Ask and you shall receive.

VERY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONEEEE!!!

Look What You Made Me Do || Thomas Shelby x Reader

warnings: SMUT!!! DubCon, Dark!Tommy, unprotected P in V, mentions of being sexually harassed (not by Tommy), catcalling, possessiveness, degradation, depictions of violence and murder, blood and graphic language describing it, using a gun during sex, slapping, daddy kink, dacryphilia, sort of fluffy at the end, adult content!!!

18+ Minors DNI

Walking back from the markets, you hadn't planned on ending up like this. Running down a dark alley way, trying to get away from a man much taller and stronger than you are. Trying to get away from a man who had yelled "Oi! Let me rip that pretty dress off of that tight little body!"

You had tried to keep walking when you heard it, hoping maybe it wasn't directed at you or you somehow misheard him. Unfortunately, the man kept harassing you, kept getting closer and closer as you kept your head down and picked up your pace. Then his hand brushed your shoulder and you immediately bolted.

You knew you should've agreed to let Tommy come with you.

He was gaining on you fast and oh the irony, you trip and fall, skidding across the damp rough gravel, skinning your hands and knees and bruising the rest of your body, you were sure. You let out a mewl as you felt him grab a hold of your ankle and pull you towards him, further dirtying you and your dress, squeezing your eyes shut, knowing this was the end of the line for you. There was no way you'd be able to fight off this monster. You had accepted your fate. "Now what do ya think yer doin'?" Tommy's voice. At the other end of the alley way. You felt some sort of relief wash over you. "Get your fuckin' hands off my woman."

"Or what?" He boldly spoke back to Thomas Shelby, he had let go of your ankle now, turning to look up at Tommy only to look down the barrel of his gun. "O-Oh...!" What an idiot. "Sorry... mate... only messin' round... tha's all...." His hands were up in the air as Tommy walked him towards a wall. You watched the encounter, wondering if Tommy was really gonna shoot him.

"That's alright, I forgive you." Tommy said sarcastically and smiled coldly before bang, the man dropped dead with a hole in his head. Blood splattered across Tommy's face and clothes, brains coating the ground. You had sat up by now, staring at the dead body in front of you, wide eyed and heart pounding. "Stupid girl." Tommy grabbed you by your wrist, yanking you up onto your feet and pulling you along behind him like a bad dog. "What the hell were ya thinking, hmmm?" You held your head low with embarrassment, relieved Tommy was here to save you but also frightened from what just happened, frightened of what was to come. Disturbed from seeing the lifeless look in the dead man's eyes and the blood pouring out of him like he was a leaky faucet. "Look at what you've made me fuckin' do." Tommy scoffed as you turned a corner, approaching closer to your house. He was covered in scarlet, blood dripping off his nose and chin.

"T-Tommy... he was going to-"

"I know what he was gonna do, keep quiet, girl, I didn't say you could speak." Tommy barked, he shoved you into the house, you tripped a bit over your step, wincing at your aching knees from your rough fall. You looked over to Tommy with watery eyes and a trembling lip. "Oh don't look at me like that, you know what would happen to ya if you went out dressed like that, love." He grumbled as he unbuckled his belt, setting his cap to the side and approaching you slowly with a dark angry look in his eyes. You knew fully what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry..." An abrupt slap to your wet face made you shut up. A small sob and then Tommy dragging you into his study, pressing his lips possessively over yours. You cried into the kiss.

"Such a dumb little girl, you are..." Tommy pushed you down over the desk, your ass perched up in the air for him. "Apologize to daddy... apologize for what you made him do to that man." "I'm so... sorry... daddy!" You cried, tears slipping down your face. Your cheek laid against the cold desk. "I'm really sorry... I didn't... I didn't mean to..." You didn't even know what exactly you were apologizing for but you needed Tommy to forgive you, needed his love and care, you were still startled over what had happened to you. You needed some sort of consoling.

"I know you're sorry," He grunted, you heard him slipping his coat off and pulling his gun out from where it was hidden, placing the thing right besides your head as he pulled down his trousers. "That's why I'm gonna use you however I please until I can find a way to forgive you..."

You just whimpered, feeling him push your dress up to your hips. You felt embarrassed of the underwear you were wearing. A thin lace thong barely covering your quivering pussy, Tommy laughed condescendingly before placing a hard spank on your ass.

"What a fucking whore," He stroked his cock a few times before ripping your pathetic panties off of you, the ripping pulling at your skin uncomfortably. "Fuckin' desperate to be fucked, aren't ya? Did you enjoy being chased down by that man? Did it give you a thrill?" He asked rhetorically.

You were wet enough for him to slip into you but the stretch still alarmed you, wasn't as easy as it usually was. Your tears streamed down your face as he fully pressed into you, cock deep inside your guts, face hurting from how you were pressed up against the desk.

"Daddy...." You sobbed as he began to fuck in and out of you. "Daddy... please... I'm so sorry... so sorry for making you do that!"

Tommy let you have another slap to your ass, pleased with the way it bounced back and the red hand mark left on it. "Fuck..." He hummed with pleasure, fucking his cock into you, hips snapping against your ass. "Such a dumb woman but at least you've got a tight little pussy for me to fill." You gasped at the feeling of the cold metal pressing against your temple, Tommy was holding his pistol right against your fucking head. You trembled with fear. Never once had he done something like this before.

"Tommy... please!" You cried and then immediately regretted what you just said as he pressed the gun even further into your skull, turning off the safety. "Fuck... daddy... I'm so sorry! I'm so unbelievably sorry... daddy! I'll do anything!" You corrected yourself.

Tommy smirked at your pleading, thrusting into you even harder while steadily holding the gun to your head. He was getting off on your sobbing, cock throbbing at how pretty you looked, bent over his desk and crying for him, you looked so beautiful to him. He knew you were getting off on this too, could feel the way your cunt gripped onto him, he could feel the way you gushed around him, getting off on the. feeling of his gun pressed to your pretty little head. "Y'gonna beg to cum f'me, do you understand?"

"Y-Yes!" Nodding desperately.

"Yes what?"

"Yes... daddy!" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of the cold gun on your head. You didn't think Tommy would actually shoot you but you couldn't be sure. Tommy had never been this rough with you before.

"That's right, I'm your daddy..." Tommy moaned lowly, his other hand was pressed firmly against your lower back, causing you to arch your ass into him even further. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You! Daddy, I belong to you," You were starting to wriggle underneath him without really meaning to, the pleasure and the pain becoming all too much. "Your property... 'm yours."

Tommy hummed, pleased with your answer and placed the gun back down on the desk. You felt like you could finally breathe again, whining as he held both of your hips in his hands now. Fucking into you at a vigorous pace, you could feel yourself begin to come undone.

"All mine," Tommy was moaning louder now, moaning a bit more pathetically, you could feel that he was close too. "Gonna fuckin' cum... gonna cum in ya, love." A spank on your ass. It was time.

"Please... please let me cum... daddy!" You begged, you were so close to falling over the edge, you feared your punishment if you came without permission. "Need to cum... please... pretty please... daddy...!"

"Hmm... I don't know if that's good enough, don't know if you even deserve to cum at all."

"Please... please daddy!" You cried harder, arching your back and wiggling your ass against him. You heard a loud grunt from him as he stilled his hips in you, spraying his seed within you.

"Go on, cum f'me." He managed to get out, still spilling into you himself. You came hard, a crying mess, pussy throbbing around him causing Tommy to fill you even further, cum dripping out of your pulsing sex and onto your sticky thighs.

"Oh daddy..." You sobbed, shaking with pleasure. "I-I love you!"

Tommy pulled out of you slowly, watching the way his semen slowly leaked out of your abused hole. He gathered it on the tip of his fingers before tapping at your lips, opening obediently and licking his digits clean. You hummed with satisfaction at the taste of his sweet cum.

"You did good, love," Tommy said as he fully slid out of his trousers and undid your dress fully. "Let's get you a bath." He carried you bridle style out of his study, not caring that you were both completely nude, didn't care if anyone saw as he walked you into the bathroom.

You were quiet as he sat you both down into the hot bath that eased your aching joints. You cried into his chest, still coming down from everything that happened. Steam filled the bathroom and Tommy stoked your hair gently, placing soft kisses along your scalp.

"I'm... I'm sorry Tommy... I really am."

"It's okay, darling," He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him with those big sad eyes. His heart breaking at the sight. "It's not your fault."

That's all you needed to know that Tommy was never really mad at you in the first place. You helped wash the blood that was still spattered across his face and neck.

"Gun was empty by the way," Tommy chuckled, stroking your cheek. "Would never shoot you, my girl, rather rip out my own heart than have you killed."

You smiled softly, kissing his lips. "It was hot, I enjoyed it." You said reassuringly.

"I love you so much," Tommy whispered. "Would kill anyone for you."

783 notes · View notes

jazjelspen · 2 months

Text

scarlet and silver lining (part 2)

alastor w/ daughter reader

(notes: apologies for any inconsistencies!! not proofread!! apologies for slight ooc vox since im unsure of how he first acted when he recently died and how he got into power qwq. apologies for anyone ooc in general cuz my brain is stew. slight graphic depictions of violence. this is definetly not by best work but I'll make sure to try harder next time!)

(tags: @falsemain @aconfusedwonderland @stasiaclash )

Today was a certainly an... eventful morning?

Certainly unusual though, considering on what you have stumbled upon on this certain morning.

You had barley been here on your first day and this is what you were to see? All you wanted was food-- even cereal would suffice.

But god-- really Angel??..

Having walked down the steps from your room, gotten ready for the day you walked down with a grace you've held even during your days living and breathing. With careful and cautious steps you managed to not come across him and have your morning ruined too early.

You had accidentally stumbled upon everyone at the main seating room, you being here due to not remembering where the kitchen or dining area was very well.

Unfortunately, Angel was proudly presenting one of his porn films to the group. Few disgusted.. embarrassed.. or even weirdly-- enjoying it.. geez Nifty's certainly weirder than you expected her to be.

You scrunched your nose up slightly as you started to feel a bit grossed out yourself, simply because others seemed uncomfortable and you weren't exactly fond of seeing these kinda of thing often.. but it was hell so you couldn't exactly complain.

You walked up to the group while trying to mute the moans and squeals from Angel Dust on the television in your head, propping your arms up on the large gold headboard of the sofa Angel was laying on and when you finally spoke you managed to even catch Angel and the others jumping slightly from the unexpected surprise as they spoke amongst themselves.

"Geez Angie.. Really gotta be showin' everyone what you do?"

"--And you!"

Now you were surprised, your eyes darting towards the winged cat that, turns out, was speaking before you got there and was even pointing at you.

There was a pause. Your eyes and his meeting as he was pointing at you.. he narrowed his own set before becoming seemingly speechless.

"Actually I don't even know you yet, but considering how you act on that disgusting show and simply being here you probably got some kind of issue similar to your friend here." His eyed flickered to Angel as he spoke towards you. You being incredibly confused on what the fuck this guy was even saying by mentioning you but Angel decided to spit out his words before you.

"Oh yea? And what's my issue pussy cat?"

The cat, name being Husk from what you could remember the day before, scoffed at your friend. "Don't get me started. I see right through you and all of this bullshit and how fake you are."

Angel in response, seemed to laugh nervously.. almost in a way to cover something up. "Me? Fake? Wow.. I had no idea.." The spider's voice holding certain sarcasm continued, you just simply waiting to be able to ask your own question next. "Guess that's why I'm an actor, dumbass.. AND--" and just like that he was interrupted by a ring of his cellphone, having to quickly hold his finger up and mutter to Husk a 'hold that thought' before moving away to answer his oncoming call.

Meanwhile.. you finally managed to ask your question to Husk. "When you mean me having an issue similar to my friend's.. do you mean I seem fake? Wait-- why was I even mentioned anyway?.. I just got here!.."

"Depends. I haven't talked to you enough, but if you and him get along then I'm sure you must have some kind of fake act you hide behind as well.. you definitely can't be as cheery in person as you are on that show.

Oh and I was just revealing everyone's darn issues.. being a hell of a bartender works out for these kinds of things.." standing there almost mumbling his last few words just made you bite your cheek a bit as your face flushed in slight embarrassment. He's not exactly.. not totally wrong..

In the end Angel confessed that he needed to do an emergency shoot for his boss, whom you hated with all your guts as well with how badly that piece of shit treated Angel. You never did get abuse as bad as Angel's but still.. it all definitely gets to you on how both your bosses treated you and those around.

You frowned slightly while looking down at the sofa he previously sat on, dreading when you'll have to get back on TV as well.. although you were a bit unsure of how you'll get Vox's message if you didn't bring your cellphone.

Ah well.. not for you to worry about anyway-- if he really wanted to contact you then you're more than certain he'll find a way to reach you whether you liked it or not.

You snapped out of your thoughts once you heard Angel huff and puff out the door while exchanging a few hurried words to Charlie before slamming it in front of her face.. slight disrespect much? You felt a bit bad for the princess, seemed like quite the pushover.

You truly hoped she wouldn't rule the entirety of hell in this exact way, for if she did she'd get eaten alive for sure.

But while she was groaning and becoming frustrated as her girlfriend was helping her out you were still very much hungry. "Sooo.." you mumbled "Where's the food area? I didn't exactly wake up too early to eat with all of you.. if you did all eat together." You smiled nervously at what's left of the group, body facing Husk who was the closest.

He even responded to you! How kind-- although he was still quite grumpy.

He pointed a finger from his left hand holding the bottle behind himself at the nearest entry way behind and beside the staircase you walked down from. "Over there, turn left, head straight, see two large fancy doors? Open it. walk through it, ignore the empty tables unless you want to eat alone which would be fucking sad and head towards the door with the circular window at the top. That's the kitchen and eat whatever you want, don't complain if anything's spoiled since you chose to be here of all places."

You couldn't help but want to roll your eyes slightly, but with a minor huff of your own you walked passed him and tried your best to remember his shitty directions. "Thanks.. Husk.."

Once you started walking his directions were shitty indeed, simple but being a bit more descriptive definitely would've helped.

Walking through the hall you'd eventually go through your steps echoed against the walls, bouncing back and forth like the ripple of a rain drop on a puddle. Thankfully it was very clean, Nifty certainly seemed to have done her job right with how spotless this part of the hotel was! As weird as she is.. she does her job well.

Finally reaching said 'fancy' doors you opened it to see an entire dining room. Clean as well with newly furnished tables and chairs with unique tablecloths with intricate designs only reminiscent of the royal family. Even each of the tables had a vase and flowers set up and two small pepper and salt shakers, although you ere certain those flowers were fake considering the lack of realism to them.

Nonetheless, fairly charming.

You walked past them all to head towards a large door with the circular window that was described by Husk, peaking through it from a distance it was certainly to the kitchen.

But..

Gosh.. what was that smell?..

It was a humble, nostalgic, delicious smell.

God-- what the fuck was it??..

As if the smell was leading your nose faster towards the door, pushing your body against it since it was those doors that simply would swing itself open or closed with a push.

"Ooo.. is that--" you walked in with a big smile, your nostrils filling itself with that childhood scent.

"It certainly is, ma puce."

You should've known.

The voice that disturbed your entire morning and mood turned around from the stove to reveal itself as none other than-- Alastor.

"Why.. it's certainly an absolute gas to see you up and awake! I even made you your favorite--" the radio demon exclaimed whilst picking up the pan he was using to plop whatever food he made onto the plate, with a swift motion he set down the pan to grab the plate and reveal your hot and fresh breakfast to you.

"--Jambalaya!" he cheered, a subtle audio track of an audience cheering could be heard from his staff that seemed to work as both a microphone and a speaker.

"Uh huh.." you frowned deeply while crossing your arms and raising your shoulder while taking a step back from him. "Actually I ate before I came he--" and even as you tried to escape him by turning back he managed to teleport right in front of you!

"Tsk tsk.. my dear you know you can't lie to me. Take a seat, enjoy your meal! You can't be telling me you aren't dying to try your favorite dish?" He put his hand on your back and the other holding the food as he pushed you through the door, then suddenly pulled you by your wrist, and sat you down on the nearest empty table. "Besides.."

"It's your Nana's recipe..."

Oh.

Your Nana.

Your eyes softened at the mention of her but immediately glared at him with a sharp gaze which seemed to not even affect him in the slightest.

'This fucker..' he knew how to get to you, he knew your weakness.

"Don't you dare fucking mention her. You have no right to have her name roll down your disgusting tongue and through your rotten teeth."

"Oh, is that any way to treat your father little fawn? My.. you're not even little anymore! My mistake.."

His large smirk widened as he set down the plate and a pair of silverware in front of you.. it only made you want to strangle that thin neck of his.

You hated him.

He was the reason why you were down here.. although indirectly. You were blind, you were so caught up in his act even after he died--

it costed you your life.

"I'll only eat it because of Nana, other than that I would really appreciate if you could fuck off Alastor." Even as you told him to screw off he stayed ever so present! Even setting down a cup of hot coffee(or tea, whichever you prefer) in front of you that also smelled utterly delicious. "Besides you only started properly raising me instead of playing babysitter when you realized no one else would, I'm more surprised you didn't throw me back into the orphanage."

"Oh darling I'm certainly a monster but I'm not a downright devil!" Alastor you know damn well.. "Your grandmother loved you too much.. I couldn't just let you go so easily!"

"Yea yea whate-" you picked up your mug to take a sip of whatever was in it which to your surprise.. it was an old favorite drink of yours. One that you would drink every morning with Alastor during your teenage years..

"Hm.. not bad.." You mumbled as you took another sip of it, yet again another sense of home washing you over once more.

"I still yet remember your favorite morning beverage mon chere. What kind of father would I be if I wouldn't?"

"Uh yea-- when I was a teenager. A few years behind dontcha' think?" You scoffed at him while trying to seem as if his efforts were meaningless but the simple action of continuously sipping the liquid totally didn't just.. contradict that.

"Which is why I'd like to catch up a bit more hm? You begged me to leave you alone and I let you be your own independent self when I first found out you were associated with that.. thing." He pulled out the chair across from you to take a seat himself. Right after he set his staff resting against the side of the table and relaxed his elbows on the surface, his chin laid on the back of his hands while looking right at you.. inspecting you.

"If my memory serves correct I'd say around.. seventy-one years? Hm? Since I've seen you? I'm sure you've made some absolutely splendid decisions all those years."

You loudly sighed as you set the halfway empty mug down and replacing the item with the silverware beside your plate.

" Look my decisions aren't for you to judge. You're no saint and I'm not obliged to listen to whatever terrible advice you have. I'm ten years older than when you have last seen me alive and not even including the ninety-four years I've been down here in total." Intertwining your fingers with the silverware you picked up some food from your plate and bring it up towards your plate. The smell seemingly holy to you and once you plopped it in your mouth..

You could've sworn heaven took a delicious shit in your mouth. This was so fucking good...

The spices, the vegetables, the rice.. it was all just cooked to perfection.

You could definitely feel goosebumps crawl around your body and your mouth exploding in flavor.

Oh how you loved the taste of New Orleans.

"Just the way you like it dear?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your eyes popped open towards the smirking overlord, seemingly proud of your reaction and it made you release a loud scoff from your throat.

"Just-- screw off. I don't want to associate myself with a murderer and a sadist." You set your silverware on your plate as you held your food on one hand and your mug in the other as you stood up from your seat.

"I sure do hope you know that your employer, that imbecile with one of those wretched picture boxes for a head, isn't any better darling." Alastor stayed in place but his eyes were the only thing that followed you while you took a few steps away from him with your back facing him.

Although his comment made you freeze on the spot you didn't dare turn around and face him for he wasn't even worth the action.

"Sure, he's not any better than you. But at least he didn't lie to me all my life and made me believe he was the most amazing person in the world, he didn't make me believe that he was a saint.. that he was actually a good person.."

You paused.

"So, yeah.. he may not be any better but he at the very least he isn't anything like you."

Just like that you resumed walking out the dining room, hands occupied and heart full.

You only amused your father albeit feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his chest that made him only want to reconnect with you more.

You just reminded him too much of your grandmother, noticing a few small actions and habits you did that you acquired through growing up with her.

You were all he had left of her, and you were all he had left of that little girl he had to leave behind.

Through selfish means it happened but..

He wished to try, just once more.

___________________________________________

You let out a shaky sigh of fear.

It was your 12th year in Hell and you have been scraping by simply scavenging for scraps, fighting foes with any weapons you could find or trade for and trying to stay alive. You were basically living in squalor but in the nicest parts of town, and was surprisingly somewhat respected due to being affiliated with a few loan sharks that you helped in return for money of resources.. even working 'normal' jobs to at least rent out a small home.

It was now the day of the 'Extermination' Where exorcist angels from above would kill any demons they could find in order to keep the population at bay. You've managed to survive each year due to your connections but all your 'protectors' have been murdered by said exorcists or have fallen from their once high power.

Cruel for heaven but-- then again you couldn't blame them. Not with how power and money hungry these sinners could be.. maybe it was best for them to keep sinners on the low.

But god did you wish you could be pardoned from this the way the hellborn were.

You didn't mean to die the way you did.

You tried to do it for a good cause.

You truly trusted in your beliefs.

You really didn't think you'd get that angry.

You didn't mean to kill that man.

You regret everything.

Especially on the day you heard Alastor's broadcasts all over hell.. you were shocked that he was even in hell but he was even torturing and toppling overlords for his own amusement??

It feels as if the version of Alastor that you grew up with, your dad..

It felt like he died all over again.

Even yet you're still mourning over it.. not for Alastor-- but for your father.

You really should've trusted those detectives and cops huh? Should've trusted the newspapers, even the 'news' on the new picture boxes they invented spoke about his case like daily gossip.

You should've trusted them all.

Evidence was right there but since you grew up with him and saw no signs on your part you could've sworn you felt it in your gut that he was innocent! That maybe that deer hunter that shot him was framing him!

That had to be the case--

Preaching about good behavior, following laws yet rebelling when they are discriminatory or unfair, that life was beautiful and precious...

Pfft. Precious my ass.

He lead you to your death and he didn't even take any part in it.

But to you, your blood was on his hands.

Which is why you knew you weren't going to regret this next part but..--

inevitably.. you did.

You were currently on the floor of an overlord's abode.

You have been seeking refuge from the exterminations happening just outside and this place was the nearest one before an exorcist angel could cut you in half.

How you managed to get in? You were quite unsure at the moment.. it went so quick, did it in a panic, and you're losing blood from a slash on the leg?? Yea getting in here was all your body was begging you to do.

But you let out a shriek when you were once again having a weapon pointed at you.

Well-- two.

Two bodyguard-looking guys confronted you as you looked up at them in fear, a third more sophisticated figure approaching.

Vox, the television demon, his head a bit funny to you considering how small his screen was yet he terrified you as well due to his status.

"How did-- oh I'm going to fucking kill Betty for leaving everything except the back door closed." He eyed you, a look of disgust evident on said small screen. "Oh just kill he--"

"WAIT!!--"

They positioned their weapons to your forehead this time, Vox about to turn around until you mentioned he- who-must--not-be-named.

"I...I knew Alastor!!--"

A shriek of a television signal could be heard, a new kind of static radiating from the overlord.

He faced you-- in a scary yet almost funny kind of way..

"What did you just say?"

"I.." you gulped.. you can't tell him he's your dad! you're smarter than that even in dire situations like these.. it's only more trouble for you.

"I knew him.. I was his.. assistant! yes and I wrote his scripts and he uh--" you felt yourself cower slightly seeing Vox come closer and put a hand up which caused his bodyguards to put their weapons down. He didn't need them, but they caused that fear he needed.

"He got me.. killed.." you trailed off and flinching when he bent down to you.

Vox smirked "Killed huh? You were one of his pathetic victims?"

You nodded vigorously, hoping this will get you to live another day. "He.. He used me as a shield when some coppers tried to shoot him.. got me instead.."

"Does that make you hate him?"

"Yes sir.."

"Hate him so much you could strange him, open his stomach, twist his intestines and feed them to them old rats in the hotels and skid ro--"

"Yes! yes sir.."

Okay maybe this overlord went a bit too far with his hate but.. whatever to not get fucking impaled by an angel.

Vox's smirk widened as he then dragged you up by your arm in a way that was far from gentle. "You sure have a pretty face as well, sight for sore eyes." He inspected you as you only stood there in fear on one leg with your other still bleeding out "Water, some rest and your voice just may be as smooth as honey." He harshly grabbed your chin to look over your appearance even more, your hair, any facial marks you may have. "You say you wrote scripts too? If you're any good you may be able to make some interesting headlines if so."

"Hm.." he hummed in thought " I like you. Prove to be useful to me and I'll let you live.. and just maybe.. I'll protect you from the exterminations and let you live comfortably working for me. As comfortable as it can get.. "

Protection from an overlord.. job from an overlord--

Not the best choices but it's way better than what you're doing right now..

"What do you say, is it a deal sweetheart?"

You weren't that stupid to make a deal with an overlord.

But as mentioned before,

Your undying spite with Alastor might've been your biggest push to shake Vox's hand and give your soul away carelessly.

"Deal."

(It's 1AM I need sleep BUT I JUST WANNA POST THISSISISIS GRAHHHH im so tired but there's one particular scene I want to get to.. may take awhile but AHHHHHHHH I can't wait!!)

325 notes · View notes

thesovereignsring-if · 7 months

Text

You’re eighteen now. You are no longer the child you used to be when you first stepped foot in the capital. Some things have changed, while others stayed the same.

Demo: Chapter 1 Part 1 (Play here!)

(09/16/2023)

Update word count: 22000+

Total Word Count: 38,000+

IMPORTANT: A lot of things were added to game that MAY cause errors with old save files. If they do please give me a heads up! Also if there's any weird bugs in the update that's all on me being insane and doing last minute edits and changes without my playtesters-

What to expect:

✦ A few things have changed over you years. Have you?

✦ Meet the Imperial Generals, Ignatus Bellerophyn and Wolfram Brynhildr!

✦ Have dinner with mummy dearest the Empress!

✦ Reunite with one of your brothers!

✦ Meet the Wizard and his assistant!

Changelog:

✦ Additional stoic choices for players at the birthday party with Thea and Finn.

✦ Light Mode implemented!

✦ Player Profile & Cast Profiles get unlocked in Chapter 1!

CONTENT WARNING: The Sovereign's Ring is intended for an 18+ audience. The Sovereign’s Ring contains disturbing/dark subject matter that is not for everyone, such as graphic depictions of violence, gore, death, trauma, sexism, racism, poverty, misogyny, sexual assault/violence, child abuse/grooming, suicide, depression, alcohol more.

Have fun guys <3 Tell me what you think afterwards!! Just realized that tomorrow is the one month anniversary of the prologue ; w ;

#tsr #the sovereign’s ring #interactive fiction #twine game #interactive novel #choice game #interactive story #text based adventure #twine wip #twine interactive fiction #twine if #cyoa #twine #game update #if wip #ITS DONE #IM LIBERATED

353 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 1 month

Text

In the mood for...

March 19th

~*~

1. itmf

a) nhs and wwx friendship PLEASE, preferably with the same vibes as seen in crazy rich cultivators by shanaatoryteller (he called wwx by affectionate nicknames and was ready to throw down with lwj for him at the minor perceived slight), i just need nhs genuinely loving wwx in a non-shippy way

b) wwx support system! him having people who love and will help him in any way they can! him not having to shoulder so many burdens alone!

1A)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS finds WWX post-Untamed canon & helps him

🔒 like mayflies wandering series by RoseThorne (E, 21k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-Wangxian, Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative NHS, Memories, WWX Needs a Hug, Pining WWX, Friendship, NHS Is A Little Shit, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Grief/Mourning)

1B)

拨云见日 by RoseThorne (G, 1k, WangXian,. Post-Canon, Justice, Anger, Sect Leader Yáo Bashing, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Restitution, Self-Indulgent, POV Third Person, POV WWX)

~*~

2. I wish to know what fics you're especially excited to read next from your TBR!

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy) this one got recced by a friend on discord and it looked soooo interesting but time is not on my side

the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 52k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, WIP, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, major characger undeath, YZY being an asshole, implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death, major character injury, amputation, loss of limbs, transformation, merpeople, fierce corpse WWX, kind of, merperson WWX, resentful creature WWX, undead WWX, riverspirit WWX, it gets worse before it gets better, heavy angst w happy ending, no sunshot, hurt/comfort, politics, not cultivation world friendly, slow burn, getting together, revenge, demonic cultivation, WWX pov, dark WWX, monsterfucker LWJ, wen remnants live, sect leader WQ)

~*~

3. Hey, I was wondering if there are any fics, after the whole story, where Wangxian's relationship with JC is extensive /repaired? @mihashi-kun

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

~*~

4. Heellloooo <3 for the next itmf im looking for fics where wwx is lwj’s favorite person/best friend (apart from also being a couple/in love) like lwj seeking wwx out and looking for him, wanting to spend time with him, being shamelessly friends with him, and everybody knows that they’re a package deal

I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl (E, 51k, wangxian, LWJ FUCKS, jerking off, so much jerking off, wangxian/others, but OTP endgame, "straight" boy WWX, Modern Setting) is a friends-to-lovers with a nice friendship at its core. Focus is definitely on their path into a sexual relationship, though, it's not just about being friends, in case that isn't what you're looking for.

~*~

5. Please give me some serious self harming fics. Real angst. I don't care if people think me cringe or weird for wanting therapy and comfort from a fanfiction, but I've been feeling self destructive lately and the deeper and deeper cuts on my arms are a testament to it. I cannot ground myself. I've been too alone and lonely lately. I love reading. Please give me some ground to sit down for a while

Twin Demons of Mò by XiaoFeiFei (M, 358k, MXY & WWX, WangXian, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Abuse, Twin Demons of Mo, MXY Lives, Major Character Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Minor Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Torture, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Canon Divergence, Self-Harm, Found Family, Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, POV Alternating)

could also check the Heavy Angst comp, there's sure to be something there

~*~

6. Hello I'm here for wwx protection squad dynamics. Like I want fics where wwx doesn't have to do anything, before he wants anything or before anyone could do to harm him or anything, there are people defending him and keeping him safe.

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, [Podfic] the stone-filled sea by yukla by Beria1021, the stone-filled sea [Podfic] by BrickGrass)

💖Teen Project to Change the World animeloverhomura (Not rated, 810k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, scharacters watching the future, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, wangxian, hualian, WIP, TGCF, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, characters watching their series, Time Travel Fix-it)

~*~

7. Hello!!!!!!! Love all the hard work you put into this blog! I’m in the mood for fics featuring wangxian growing together, like fics with adorable kids wangxian and then awkward preteen wangxian and then finally growing into their skins young adult wangxian and all that

Thxxxxx

soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, WangXian, Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, First Kiss, Wedding Fluff)

Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

~*~

8. Hello! ITMF blind!Wei Wuxian? Canon or modern. thank you!

🧡 close your eyes, feel my heartbeatby ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind!WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Golden Core Transfer) WWX is blind, but MXY isn't

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant) link in #16

~*~

9. hiiii hope you all are well!!! I'm itmf your favorite memory loss/amnesia fics pls! thank u and have a lovely day 🩷 @loveshinesbrightly

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

🧡 the river brought you here by chilianxianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

~*~

10. hii! for imtf: anything with true loves kiss or something really sad (or both) (no omegaverse pls). thank you!!

🧡 Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions) It's only a small moment, but a curse is lifted with a kiss

what else is there? by mme_anxious (T, 13k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Swan Princess AU, Everybody Lives, who isn't already dead, Magic, Animal Transformation, Curses, Angst, Humor, Happy Ending, Kissing)

This Lantern Shines For You by apollonie (M, 10k, wangxian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, LWJ is a Disaster Gay)

with such a suffering, such a deadly life by cqlorphan (T, 7k, wangxian, post-canon, curses, curse breaking, getting together, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, affection, touch-starved LWJ, LWJ whump, cuddling & snuggling, love confessions)

a safe pair of hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Body Worship, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, First Time, Curses, Intimacy, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved LWJ)

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst with Happy Ending) it's kind of true love's kiss adjacent?

~*~

11. Hi! I was curious if there were any fics like, Seven Second to the End? Where basically Wei Wuxian sought out Lan Wangji as soon as he woke up in mxy body or there wasn’t the elaborate pretending to be mxy on wwx side?

~*~

12. heyy hope you're doing good! do you know any fics that are similar to 'and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow'?

~*~

13. Are there anymore fics like " heaven has no rage " by flipfloppandas ?

~*~

14. Hi! For itmf does anyone know of any Yunmeng-bros fics where they have a good relationship and Wei Wuxian returns to Yunmeng Jiang after his resurrection? Thank you so much!

❤️ By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword, ofmindelans (T, 89k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, Golden Core Reveal, Swords and Feelings, WWX Resurrection, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Embedded Images, Sect Leader QS)

~*~

15. ITMF cultivators having super senses? Like heightened eyesight, hearing, strength, etc. There is a sentinel/guide fic I really enjoyed, “Hyperprosexia” by malkinmalkout, that dealt with heightened senses and I would love more like that. Thank you so much!

Zhalyn series by meiqi (Silver_Shadow_09) (T, 16k, wangxian, WWX & WQ, LWJ & WQ, WWX & WN, WN & WWX & LWJ & WQ, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Golden Core, Golden Core Reveal, But not how you think, OP WWX, one self-sacrificial idiot and his two emotionally constipated best friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Location: Cloud Recesses, Location: Lotus Pier, Good Friend WQ, Doctor WQ, Good Friend LWJ, Case Fic, LanWenWei besties - now with two Wens, Self-Discovery, WQ is So Done, LWJ Has Friends, Cinnamon Roll WN, Good Friend WQ, Good Friend WN, Team as Family, Annoying WWX) wwx has even stronger senses than most cultivators in this

~*~

16. Hello again! Thank you for your recs!

I was wondering if you could rec some fics with sentient burial mounds, like- them being protective of wwx, sort of treating him like- either as the master/chosen/hier of burial mounds or something? Or any story with ghosts/spirits being protective of wwx or treating him as a sort of leader or something? Just want some wwx & supernatural goodness lol.

Also, any fics with wwx being sort of like- strangely in tune with nature? And maybe people being freaked out by his connection to the nature or dead. Like - cryptid vibes wwx lol

Thank you!!!

in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by varnes (M, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, [Podfic of] in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by exmanhater)

What Lies Beneath These Hallowed Woods by meekome (M, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Sentient Burial Mounds, of the cosmic horror variety, Eldritch WWX, Monster WWX, Body Horror, Eventual Happy Ending, after a lot of whump Fix-It, Canon Divergence, WWX's Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Hurt WWX, Blood and Injury, but he gets better I swear, Suicidal Thoughts, WWX Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Protective LWJ, BAMF WWX, YLLZ WWX, YLLZ LWJ, Sunshot Campaign, Communication, Married WangXian)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

Blood of the Black Earth by wirevix (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave, Sunshot Campaign, Sad with a Happy Ending, Ghost WWX, Monster WWX, Canonical Character Death, Although not at the canonical time, Grief/Mourning, Good Sibling JC, Horror)

~*~

17. Hello! I'm looking for fics with:-

A) rich wwx!! As in- he's like rich af, but people don't know it? Like he's very normal about it but doesn't advertise the fact that he could buy everything he wants. I'd also like if he's big on donating, or just helping people in general and stuff.

B) wwx doing dangerous stuff like volunteering in places with natural disasters/civil unrest, etc. Him being very into activism and stuff

C) jealous sizhui...like- he's jealous of wwx paying attention to other kids and stuff. Maybe something like- wwx thinks sizhui has lwj as father figure, doesn't remember him, or maybe he'll be bothered if wwx acts too familiar or something? So he keeps his distance. It could be a modern au too, or any fic where wwx adopts other kids/is a mentor figure to them/has close relationship with them and sizhui is jealous of that??

I appreciate you taking the time to do this!

17A)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

Sizhui's Smiles by RenaFair (T, 11k, wangxian, Possessive Behavior, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha LSZ, Mpreg, Minor Child Character Death, Read the summary between the lines) it has dark Sizhui jealous over wangxian's new baby

17C)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

127 notes · View notes

iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 2 months

Text

𝓲𝓶𝓾𝓰𝓲 𓆗༒︎𓆘

wc: 2.9k reader: afab (no pronouns at all used to refer to reader) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- swearing, angst, violence (very little depicted and no graphic descriptions), also happy? ending? love? something along those lines. summary: in the case of his failure, the serpent god imugi chooses two new vessels every one hundred years. the primary vessel is raised in isolation and the spirit god awakens in this body. the ultimate vessel lies in wait until it's finally time for the merge. you're so close you can taste it. if only this generation's primary vessel wasn't such a pitiable, loveless creature. modern dark fantasy AU. find other works here ੈ✩‧₊˚ yep it's a 𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 fic. bit the bullet and went for it. though a lot of lore describes imugi as a dragon/lizard king, this version of him is based on the imugi character in the tale of the nine tailed. he's more like an elegant, tortured serpent-human villain? i just think ricky is perfect for this concept and it was fun to write tbh! i took a lot of liberties with the lore lmao. lemme know what you think xx

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: experienced!reader and touchstarvedvirgin!ricky, both of them are subby and dominant at different points that's just how imugi rolls y'know, choking (reader and ricky receiving), oral (ricky receiving), p-in-v penetration, cumming inside w/ no protection (i literally don't care if you don't use protection i'd nevershame you just thoroughly research the consequences babe), angsty and dark but also love there's love that's kind of really sweet in this EW so be warned.

𓆗༒︎𓆘

a young, icy blonde man walks purposefully down the dark, ornate halls of his estate. one would think he was a prince. and they’d be right. just not the kind of prince that first comes to mind.

“ricky, sir,” you beg as you rush after him, grabbing his silk-sleeve covered arm when he’s finally in reach. “please.”

his head whips around, serpent eyes glowing as his pupils contract and expand. you know you’re not allowed to touch him under any circumstance and the palpable rage in his eyes almost makes you regret breaking the long-respected rule.

almost.

“let go,” he huffs, gaze so white-hot it could melt you to a boiling puddle on the marble floor. when you shake your head, he shoves you down, forcing you to your knees in front of him. “let go or i’ll kill you.”

you don’t. you can’t.

not when you’ve seen what happens if he rushes into battle with the gumiho before the merge. not when you know this decision leads to his servants laying him to rest in the garden every time.

not when you know you could wait a hundred years for his return. for the merging process to begin again.

a patch of scales appears across his neck, glowing green and unnatural in the dim light of the hall chandelier. you know he means it: he’ll kill you.

he’s done it three times before. perhaps it’s inescapable this time, too.

so you tip your head back. expose your jugular. wait for him to slice his lizard claw through you like you’d seen him do to so many of his enemies before you.

your friends. your family.

you were only sorry they’d have to die in their next lives, too. all for some prophecy they had nothing to do with.

he brings a hand to your throat, engulfing it in his palm and tilting your head side to side as if examining where to make the incision. he looks you over for another moment, before realization hits him. “you saw something, didn’t you?”

your eyes water with frustration, wishing you could just tell him. even if it meant having to sugarcoat things. if only your own curse didn’t make things that much more difficult.

his awakening happened at eighteen, the power of imugi coursing through him at an uncontrollable frequency. that’s when it always happens: the destruction of the town and everyone that inhabited it.

knowing what was coming, you hid— lying in wait until it was over. this time, you’d approached him right after the disaster. though many primal vessels didn’t recognize you after their awakening, you could tell in his contracted serpent eyes that, to some extent, ricky did.

ricky, of course, being the new “fashionable” name imugi chose for this vessel. imugi was always one who wanted to appear cool. whatever the trends were of the time, you could bet his vessel would be following them.

he was an interesting god in more ways than one.

when ricky demanded to hear how you’d somehow known to hide from destruction that left every townsperson dead except for you, you’d stuck with your usual explanation: you were a clairvoyant.

it was a guise you could easily keep up, since you already knew everything that would happen between now and your own awakening. it proved useful enough to each primal vessel and ricky took you in: letting you stay as his guest (prisoner) in his secluded mansion estate.

there were two little problems though: the first being that you weren’t allowed to tell him his own fate. or else you’d both die. learned that one the hard way.

most times, you could figure a way around this. you were incredibly clever after all and wise with knowledge beyond your years (literally). but with something so direct as life or death, you always found yourself in a bind right about now.

the second little problem was that imugi always liked to present his ultimate vessel with a charming challenge every rebirth cycle. that challenge was that the catalyst for the merge was different every cycle.

and you still haven’t figured out what it is this time.

“what did you see?” he demands, tightening his grip around your neck. “tell me.”

biting your lip, you nod dutifully. “just kill me.”

“at this point, i should,” he seethes, throwing you further to the ground as he lets go of your neck. “fucking pathetic waste of investment.”

he spits on the floor beside you before turning around and continuing towards the door. it was beyond time for desperate measures.

“quanrui,” you breathe. the name he’d worn in youth before the birth of imugi had ripped through the weak vessel and torn his human self to shreds. the name his keeper used to call angrily when she’d catch him outside playing with you as a child. through the wrought-iron fence... exchanging pretty-colored stones.

he freezes, body stiffening at the sound of his real name. his jacket falls from his arm to the floor.

“i love you.”

he turns around slowly, lips parted in shock. the patch of green scales around his neck dissolves back into pale skin and his eyes turn a deep, chocolate brown.

“i love y—,” you begin to repeat before realizing you’ve chosen the wrong word. “i mean... i need you.”

“need me,” he repeats softly, full lips pouting as the words fall from them. the primal vessel to the dragon king, born without parents and raised without friends, seems to understand this concept more than that of love. he was used to people needing him, even if it was only to keep themselves alive.

you blink back at him, eyes swimming with desperation. are you getting through to him? will he stay here with you?

“show me,” he orders, closing the door and taking a few slow steps toward you. “show me how you need me.”

you force yourself up to your knees as he closes the distance between you, standing in front of you and waiting for your demonstration. you look up at him, eyes locking as your fingers reach for his belt buckle. it’s nothing you hadn’t done before with other, albeit less powerful and handsome, men.

but he hesitates, flinching back as if he’s afraid of your touch.

“would you prefer to undo it yourself?” you ask calmly, thinking he might just wish to keep your grimy hands off his expensive clothes.

“it’s... i don’t—,” he stutters, suddenly avoiding your gaze as if his life depends on it. if only he knew. “i’ve never...”

you feign a gasp. of course he hasn’t. he’s touch-starved and brooding and tragically beautiful. a broken man carrying the soul of a god. like every primal vessel before him. “but how can that be true? you’re so desirable, ricky, sir.”

“shut up,” he barks suddenly, a quick smack across your cheek to put you back in your place. “i’m... i’m sorry, just—... just keep going.”

you fight the urge to smile. this vessel had far more heart than the others. maybe that’s why you’d grown quite fond of him in the years since you’d met him.

your fingers connect with the metal of his belt buckle, unclasping it and pulling it through before discarding it with a clank on the marble floor. he jumps at the sound, swallowing hard as his attention returns to your hands on his black dress slacks.

“may i undo this, too?” you ask quietly, tapping on the clasp and zipper. he nods slowly, glancing over his shoulder as you make quick work of the fastenings.

pulling his slacks down with his black, satin boxers, he inhales sharply when the cool air hits him. for a different reason, so do you.

you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight.

looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly ask for permission to continue. he breathes in and out shallowly before nodding just once. so you wrap your hand around his length gently, steadying him as you take him into your mouth.

swirling your tongue around his tip before pushing him in even further, you watch as his head lolls back— tattooed neck exposed as a large patch of scales works its way up his body.

“feels good?” you ask, unable to help the smugness in your voice as you pop him out of your mouth. you pepper kitten licks around the head of his cock as a strangled moan falls from his lips— a clawed-hand moving to cup your jaw, brushing your cheek cautiously.

you notice the young prince continues to avoid eye contact, no matter how much he’s enjoying what you’re doing to him. you suppose it makes sense. he might fear being vulnerable. he probably never learned how to.

“look at me,” you encourage softly, hand pumping him steadily. “want to see your eyes...”

you’re reminded violently to always be careful of what you ask for as you’re tackled to the ground, glowing, serpent eyes no more than an inch from yours.

“you think you’re worthy of the gaze of the imugi prince?” ricky hisses— hands pinned beside each of your shoulders as he hovers above you.

he reaches one hand down to the designer pants that he’d bought you for you last year. you couldn’t wear rags in his presence. dragon claws tear through the fabric, ripping them and pulling them off of you. he doesn’t even have to use a claw to rip through your underwear, discarding them as a patch of scales flashes across his right hand. you should’ve expected such theatrics from imugi’s vessel. the smile that is forming on your face is completely erased as he promptly buries himself inside of you— a moan escaping both of you.

he meets your gaze, pompous smirk accompanying his yellow eyes as he starts to thrust into you. this new skill is undoubtedly the effects of imugi’s extensive spiritual well of muscle memory. “are you happy now? are these the eyes you wanted to see?”

truth be told, they were not. perhaps you’ve just had too much experience already with having imugi inside of you...

“quanrui,” you mewl. “wanna see your eyes...”

he doesn’t respond and instead averts your gaze— continuing to thrust into you, silent and detached. you’re fairly certain this will begin just as it started, until...

“is this what it feels like?” he asks suddenly, chocolate eyes full of innocence once more as he looks at you uncertainly. “love?”

the question shocks you, only able to cry out when he thrusts even deeper into you— cock hitting the fleshy wall of your cervix. you recall what you’d said to get his attention. to keep him from storming out of the door and into the clutches of premature death.

of course, you’d been manipulating him. it was your duty to imugi. how sick you are growing of your eternal duty to that snake.

but you nod. you lie. if you wanted a human life free from the serpent king, you shouldn’t have ever picked that flower from his castle garden.

“then i must love you, too,” ricky breathes, emotion emphasized by a collapse to your chest— deepening the angle of his thrusts until you’re begging for release. “i must’ve loved you even through the fence.”

you gasp, partially because of the desperation in his pace and partially because the last thing you expected was for him to utter such a sentimental confession. you could always tell that he recognized you, but you had no idea until this moment that he remembered from where.

“i’ve never met another person outside of my house before,” the little boy said solemnly. “you’re the first. i’m six. i like your socks.”

“thanks,” you replied with a smile. you’d found him again, even faster in this life than the last. the imugi prince. “my name’s (y/n). i’m seven. my mother owns a bakery in town. she gives free bread to all the children.”

“my name’s quanrui,” he returned, corners of his lips upturning softly. “i wish i could go. i’m not allowed to leave. bad things could happen to me. i guess that’s what happened to my parents, anyway.”

with every rebirth, you felt more sorry for the primary vessel. always so confused about their identity until the truth was revealed: they were never meant to have one in the first place.

“i like rocks,” quanrui said suddenly, digging in his pocket and pulling out a beautiful emerald stone. “i picked this one up by the fountain. it’s pretty. you should keep it. also i like you.”

something as pure as that had never happened before. you begin to smile now, thinking of it.

a familiar sensation in your stomach begins to bubble abruptly, but it’s not the one you’d normally feel during this act. it’s painful. and the intensity of that pain swells rapidly until you’re screaming in its wake.

“what’s—...” ricky stutters, palpable fear in his eyes. “what’s wrong!? am i hurting you?”

scales, green and eerie begin to patch across your skin; vision blurring as your human eyes are replaced with that of a serpent. vicious claws sprout from your fingertips, so sharp you accidentally cut a small slice across his cheek.

he pulls out of you, clambering back as the frightening transformation occurs before his very eyes. he doesn’t have time to worry for long, as a screeching sound rips through both of your skulls. covering your ears,

you count the seconds until it stops— the heinous noise suddenly replaced by something else.

what the fuck...

you hear it: ricky’s thoughts tickling the back of your brain.

can you hear me? is the merge complete?

his eyes widen as your voice rings through his mind, blinking as if he’s sure he must be hallucinating. no, no, no. this—... i’m dreaming. i just need to wake up! that will end this nightmare and—

oh, i don’t think so, gorgeous. i think we’re finally getting started.

his jaw drops as you crawl towards him, body stiff and cautious as you slink your way closer. your hand reaches to cup his cheek, thumb ghosting over the small incision you made.

“i know this is a lot to take in, but... i’m actually supposed to dispose of you now. it’s unwise for two imugi vessels to be running amuck,” you hiss, fingers running through his long, white hair. “so i’ve had to make a habit of... retiring the weaker one.”

he gapes at you, eyes shifting back and forth from yellow to brown. “you—... you’re the second vessel? that’s why you could predict the future... you knew all along what would happen? since... since—”

“since the fence, yes. i know. what a shame,” you coo mockingly, wrapping your hand around his neck as he’d done to you earlier. you shove him to the floor, flat on his back as he looks up at you. he doesn’t struggle. “and i’m called the ultimate vessel, thank you very much. it’s so tiresome... always having to be the one to step up and educate you primaries. but then again, telling an innocent child he was born to die is a bit grim. even for imugi.”

ricky stares at you, brow furrowed pensively. what triggered the merge?

his question is a good one. i don’t know. what happened immediately before?

ricky’s eyes widen. “i—... i said i love you.”

love? could that have really been the catalyst that imugi chose? for his vessels to fall in love? there was one glaring problem with that...

i was lying.

“you didn’t mean it?” he asks after your thought permeates his mind. sadness is visible on his face, but there’s something else much more dangerous underneath it. something like suspicion. and you simply can’t have that.

you smile at him softly, starting to roll your hips against his. he inhales sharply at the sensation, involuntarily grinding against you.

“if you walked out that door, the gumiho would’ve ripped you apart,” you assert, hand reaching to his still-hard cock and lining it up with your entrance— sinking down onto him with a satisfied sigh. “imugi can only win that fight after the merge. i tried my best to allude to that, but you primaries always go and—”

“i’m not them,” ricky yells, causing your lips to part in shock. “stop referring to me as the primary vessel. i understand: you knew all along what would happen to me. you manipulated and lied your way into my life. into my home. my body. and i know now that not one of those things belonged to me from the start. but... my heart does.”

your serpent eyes fade as his human ones bore into you.

“and the only time i ever felt like it even worked was when i was with you.”

could it really be true? was the reason you were so fond of ricky, more than any other primary vessel before him, by design? had you always been meant to fall in love with him in this lifetime?

a love strung up and puppeted by imugi himself. doomed to end in tragedy.

but this boy beneath you couldn’t see that truth. part of you wished you couldn’t either. part of you wished you could be him for once.

“this never happened before,” you say softly, running your free hand across his chest as you slowly start to lift yourself up and down on his cock. even if this is the most brutal end yet, you might as well make the most of it.

“w-what do you mean?” he asks breathily, voice raspy as he grapples with the renewed pleasure.

“in the previous lifetimes,” you respond with a smile. “this never happened in any rebirth cycle. i think we got close to it once— during a battle so hateful that six servants perished... alongside the both of us.”

you feel him gulp under your palm.

“but maybe this makes sense,” you continue, speeding up your pace. “in every lifetime, you never learn to love. in every lifetime, you rip love from me. we’re a sorry doomsday pair.”

he moans under you, biting his bottom lip as you milk him between your walls. “fuck...”

“i wonder what would happen if we tried to be partners this time,” you say, high rapidly approaching as the head of his cock hits the sweet spot of your upper wall. “maybe we have what it takes to cooperate with each other. not to mention, we could do this whenever we wanted...”

“but... but imugi wants you to kill—.”

“oh no, the killing you part is all me,” you say with a laugh, the vibration making him whimper. “i really hate competition.”

“fucking— please,” he whines, hands rushing to your hips and guiding you up and down as you start to lose yourself. “kill me if you want, just... let me cum before you do.”

you oblige. he moans sweetly, another few thrusts and he’s spilling himself inside of you. as you feel yourself fill up with his warmth, you reach your climax— back arching as you ride out your high.

you look at him. why are you the only one burdened with eternal memory? you’re astounded by the way he grows more beautiful in every life.

thank you. he smiles, one eyebrow raised. “does my beauty save me from death?”

you capture his image in your mindseye for another moment, leaning down and connecting your lips to his. it’s a tender thing. in no lifetime have you deserved it.

when you pull back, you smile and shake your head. “i’m afraid i still desperately yearn to kill you.”

“i don’t believe you,” he says suddenly, hands helping him upwards to a seated position. almost-human eyes meet almost-human eyes.

you blink back at him dumbly. what?

“i don’t believe you, because... i found them,” he says, claws tracing up your incandescent, scale-covered thighs. “in your top dresser drawer. in a blue velvet sachet.”

no. wait. don’t say it. please, don’t say—

“the stones,” he says, a charming and devastating smirk on his perfect lips— eyes flashing yellow just for a moment. quanrui. ricky. imugi. no matter how hard you fought it, you loved them.

all of them. / all of them.

108 notes · View notes