#never let anyone tell you violence is never the answer

[stxrvel]

tis the damn season

a season of sadness wanted to come to an end. 'tis the damn season and you thought maybe you could go home and live with your mate the way it was meant to be…

pairing: azriel x f!reader

wc: +3.5k

warnings: pure angst, cuss words and slight (or light? soft?) unprotected (wrap it up) smut. no happy ending, sorry

note: hi guys! :)- i wrote and published this one some time ago, but i deleted it because it was poorly received and that disappointed me a bit. but now that i was able to read it again, i feel it's a good job and that should be enough for me. i hope you guys like it :). see u next time!

Azriel was your mate. You had known for a couple of months. He knew it long before that, too. The bond snapped first for him, but he never tried to get close to you. You didn't know if it was out of fear or if he never agreed with what was chosen for the two of you by the Cauldron. 

Likewise, you never had time to ask. The battle against the King of Hybern almost cost you your life. You didn't know what things had been done outside of your consciousness to keep you alive, you didn't know what boundaries Rhysand had crossed to bring you back to life, and you never wanted to ask either. You never asked anything, living in that ignorance gave you a sense of peace you didn't want to get rid of. 

But things were never the same after that. From the day you woke up, everything felt different. During that time, you didn't allow yourself much time to delve into what the recent bond between you and Azriel meant, and he always agreed to give you your time. 

However, one day, out of nowhere, it all became too overwhelming. And you decided to run away.

You never said anything to anyone, and you closed the door so Azriel couldn't feel you. You knew it must've been painful for everyone, especially your mate, but being with all of them after everything that had happened was unbearable. You lived under a constant reminder of suffering, violence and blood. You couldn't stop seeing your hands full of blood every time you closed your eyes, guilty for the lives they had taken as if you had had any right to do so, but having to know daily that it was all justified. Velaris and the permanence of the rest of Prythian justified it.

So, you went far away, to the other side of the world, to the east. To the Continent. 

And life was not easy at all. You knew Azriel wasn't having a good time. After a while, the wall you both had built around the bond was beginning to crack and his emotions were seeping through those tiny cracks. You could sometimes feel his sadness, his pain… his anger. After a couple of minutes of heartbreaking grief, the pangs of anger would appear. You could tell what he was going through and, selflessly, you tried to think that your decision was for the best. 

Rhysand wrote to you almost daily. Paper with his handwriting constantly appeared around you and, although you never answered him, he always made it a point to let you know everything that was going on in Velaris. 

The first few days were the hardest. 

There was a heavy snowfall on the Continent when you arrived, something that had never been more than a welcome, tearing at your skin. The cold was so deadly and the gales so lethal that you couldn't leave the apartment you were renting for a whole week. Apparently, at that time, that was normal. The cold that fogged up the windows, that froze your limbs, and that made all signs of life disappear. 

Where are you? Azriel is very worried

Please, answer me 

Y/N 

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU???? 

Cassian and Azriel are flying over Velaris. Can you just tell me, please? 

Y/N, we are very worried. Please.

Please.

You had a lot of tugging on your bond from Azriel. You could feel his desperation even through the walls of silence. Those were difficult days. The cold days were not comforting at all. 

However, as the months passed, with the cultural difference and the harshness of reality outside of the family you had known for as long as you had memories, so many hundreds of years ago, you gave in to Rhysand's wishes to return to Velaris on the night of the Starfall.

And that night… well, you hadn't told anyone you were going. 

But as you expected, Azriel was the first to know you were there. 

You heard the flutter of his wings before you saw him, towering in the moonlight against the dim lighting in the city in anticipation of the biggest celebration of the year. He stumbled as he fell, being one of the few times you had seen him unable to control his strength, staggering with his feet and hands to get to a safe distance from you. His breathing was rapid, almost erratic and his eyes were bright, crystallized. The stirring movement in your chest brought tears to your eyes. 

Azriel was there in front of you from the moment he had the slight feeling, because he knew the bond wasn't wrong. And his gaze reflected everything. Everything he wanted to say and everything he preferred to keep silent. You had never felt so strongly the need to be close to him; you hadn't even accepted the bond, but you felt as if you had just done it. His eyes roamed the features of your face, his expression contracting as if he was slowly processing that you were really there in front of him. 

You saw him raise one of his hands, the hands that had so often held you in the darkness and through the sadness. If you focused really well, you could almost notice how his body trembled at the closeness, with anticipation, just as your body shuddered at his presence. 

The effects of the bond were powerful. But that hadn't been what made you fall in love with him. 

Azriel took a tentative step forward, reaching out his hands as if in a trance, seeking to touch you to make sure it was really you in front of him and not some kind of hallucination. Your voice stopped him on his feet. 

“Hello, Azriel,” you could barely speak, that suffocating feeling of being close tightening your throat. His eyes moved quickly back to yours and watered once more, his breathing quickening again. You didn't know what you had awakened in him just by speaking to him once more after so long without seeing him, but it must've been the same thing that ignited in your body when he spoke. 

“Y/N,” he elongated your name, like a plea or a prayer, you weren't sure. Electricity coursed through your body in a matter of seconds and you felt your feet move before you could stop them. The emotion rising in your chest matched your mate's expression, nostalgic because it had been so many months since you had last been so close and yet more pained and suffering because you had been the reason all that pain now surrounded you both. 

You stopped just inches away from him, your hands itching with the need to touch him, to feel him close, to once again have that warmth that would warm and thaw your soul. His huge, beautiful wings were taut behind him, being that all his attention was focused on your every move. You saw him hold his breath as you approached, struggling hard to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you whispered the question, the air stealing your confidence, perhaps feeling a little silly and embarrassed about it. Suddenly, you felt too small under his gaze. 

“Okay?” the change in his voice was hardly imperceptible, sending shivers throughout your body, the panic of fear making its way into your chest, the bond tightening as if both ends were being pulled at the same time. “You left for a year without telling anyone. We went months without knowing if you were okay. I couldn't… I couldn't… feel you.” 

His voice became shaky, each word brimming with a tinge of suppressed anger. 

“Do you think I'm anything close to okay?” 

Yes, it was a stupid question. The knot in your chest grew rapidly, the back of your throat burning with pent-up tears. 

“I can't even enjoy the relief of seeing you now because… I'm so angry.” 

“I know…” you barely mumbled, lowering your head. How could you look him in the eye? Why did you think you had the right to go back as if nothing had happened? It was clear that things weren't going to be like they were before. You weren't sure about the others, but it seemed you had taken some of Azriel with you by disappearing like that. Proud you weren't of your actions, but you didn't know how to explain to his shattered features and cheeks wet with tears that, at that moment, you believed it was the right thing to do. 

The tears in his eyes prompted your own and you sobbed unable to contain the feeling. You tried to regain your composure, because you had no right to show such sadness when you had created it all. But Azriel was faster and you didn't even manage to put your hands under your eyes when his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. His wings also surrounded you and, although you had hardly noticed it because of the darkness, you felt his shadows dance around your feet. 

The warmth of his body was automatically welcome. How many times had you imagined that scene in your cold bed on the Continent, all alone and devastated from time to time, with memories invading your mind. Not many times did you regret your decision, except when you thought of Azriel. 

He sobbed too, his hands tightening on your arms, as if he was afraid to let you go again. He probably was. 

“I don't understand what made you think you'd be better off away from us… away from me, but I'm sorry.” 

His words surprised you, but a flood of feelings greeted you from the other end of the bond as Azriel let go and you couldn't think too hard. Crying swirled in the back of your throat. The level of pain and sadness that your mate was handling and had hidden from you for so long was so uncontainable that you almost doubled over, leaning over Azriel's body as you felt it rushing through you. 

“I thought you needed space. I know what happened with Hybern was too much for you and I didn't want to overwhelm you. But if I had known that decision would've made you decide you'd be better off away from me…” Azriel gulped, his voice full of feeling breaking off between words. “If I had known I promise you it would've been different.” 

You couldn't believe Azriel was telling you that. And the feelings coming from his end through the bond confirmed it to you. Azriel felt guilty about your departure. From moment one, when the panic and fear dissipated, Azriel never stopped feeling that it had been his responsibility that you decided to leave. And he couldn't have been more wrong. You loved him, had loved him long before the bond appeared, but the things that happened after Hybern, that affected you, had nothing to do with him. 

“Azriel…” 

“I'm supposed to be your mate. I'm supposed to support you, help you when you're down. I don't understand how I could fail at that. I'm sorry,” his voice was muffled as he spoke with his face hidden in your neck. At no time did he let go of you and his wings kept you warm. At that moment, that was home. 

“I promise it's not your fault,” you managed to speak, your face pressed against his chest. 

“I was supposed to be with you, accompanying you, but I-” 

“Azriel, you didn't do anything wrong,” you fought against his tight grip so you could look him in the eyes and the tears running down his cheeks broke your heart once again. 

“Then why did you leave?” 

You didn't have an answer for that and Azriel realized it when your lips pursed. He sighed, as best he could, and drew you back into his arms. Maybe he didn't need an answer at that moment, just having you by his side was more than enough. 

With the others it wasn't much easier. 

Rhysand and Feyre almost wept at your feet. Cassian, on the other hand, didn't hide it and deliberately filled your shoulder with tears and saliva. Mor lifted you into the air and almost didn't let you escape when Azriel started begging her to let you go already. Everyone cried. Possibly even Feyre's sisters shed a tear or two. 

You felt calm for a while. Complete, as if you were back in that house, in that home, before Amarantha and Hybern destroyed everything for you. 

But things couldn't be perfect. After the Starfall, you began to feel that anxiety again. Azriel could only tell by your body language, because you still kept your end of the bond completely closed to him and he couldn't feel the swirl of emotions coursing through your body. You had barely had time to get used to the familiarity of the situation when all the memories came flooding back. Perhaps you had blocked them out during your absence living on the Continent, you weren't sure, but the cries of war began to haunt you from the back of your mind. 

Azriel's shadows were also restless and that was another way he could tell something was going on. He was almost glued to your side all night, watching you out of the corner of his eye when you stepped away to talk to some friends. He never let you out of his sight. You knew where this behavior was coming from, but it never occurred to you to comment on it at any time. 

So, by that time, Azriel knew what was going on and you were sure you couldn't escape him. When he approached you and extended his hand in silent invitation, with the sound of conversations and drinks in the back of your head, you almost didn't hesitate to take it. His darkness enveloped you and, within seconds, you appeared in your room at the Town House. The party was now an imperceptible murmur. 

“Would you like to rest?” Azriel spoke, after spending several seconds standing facing each other. One of his hands ran over your face barely perfunctorily, but the warm sensation ignited too many things in your body. He arranged the strands of your hair that hid your face behind your ears with delicate, almost invisible movements. 

You only moved your head in response, up and down, under his watchful gaze. 

He almost crawled away, moving to your old bed that didn't have the same sheets as when you left. In fact, when you took a quick glance around the room, it looked too neat considering the amount of time that, presumably, no one used it. 

You shrunk at the thought of Azriel coming in regularly to clean it. 

With crystallized eyes you watched him move the comforter to make way for the clean white sheets waiting to be used once again after so long. 

Azriel turned to look at you, expectant. You didn't know if he was waiting for you to move to lie down or to ask him to leave so you could change into comfortable pajamas, but you did neither. Not when the emotions in your chest moved you, when they were more uncontainable now that you shared your mate's. Not when he opened up to you in such a vulnerable way, when he let you know that which for so long he kept to himself. Not when he gave you to understand that he was always waiting for you, even though it hurt him terribly that you had decided to spend all that time alone. 

So, for some reason, whether it was feelings or rationality, you approached him. You let yourself be carried away by nostalgia, by the silent desires of your heart, and you approached your mate with long strides. 

His expression went from neutral to confused as you got closer and you only remembered seeing it turn to surprise when you cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. 

It was rough and awkward at first, because your mate was completely transfixed for a few seconds. Maybe out of anxiety you counted ten. But, whether he was born from the same place as you or not, Azriel melted under your touch and as soon as he came to his senses he was kissing you back. It was just the kiss of an unaccepted bond, of a separated couple who held too many melancholy memories in their chests to bear on their own. 

Azriel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and bent his head to kiss you more deeply. You could feel the desperation and desire hovering tentatively in his demeanor, but he held back to give you a sweet, soft kiss; a kiss that said welcome, a kiss that urged you to stay by your side and never be separated from him again, a kiss that made you wonder why you had left in the first place. 

The softness of his movements were a direct contrast to your own. You cradled his face tightly, moving your lips over his as if second nature. Then you circled his neck, pressing him against you as if somehow you could hold him that much closer. You wanted him closer. 

But Azriel broke away, breathing in and out between gasps, and looked up at you with dark, glowing eyes. 

“Do you want this?” 

His hands on your skin burned. 

“Yes,” you answered quickly and tried to move closer again to kiss him, but he broke away again. 

“And are you going to stay after this?” 

Your eyes met his worried expression, thinly disguised. Ever since he'd opened his end of the bond for you, shedding any obstacle on his part that wouldn't allow him to feel you, everything you'd seen from him had been genuine. So you knew that concern was genuine and the mere conception generated pain in your heart. 

“I will stay,” you assured him, forcing your lips into a tight smile. 

Azriel studied your face trying to convince himself of your words, for he was an expert at knowing your body language, and you had no idea what he saw that convinced him and led him to pounce on your mouth once more. 

When the lightness settled into the bond, you were thankful you had never lowered your wall. Guilt suffocated you. 

But you kissed him back and followed your heart's desires, if only for one night. 

Azriel moved his hands along every curve of your body before removing your dress. If you hadn't stopped his movements, he would've surely ripped it off. His eyes followed every part his hands had explored and then his lips were on every inch of skin. Against the soft mattress and with your wrists held by his hands, you could only sigh and moan slightly at the way he explored your body. And yes, Azriel took his time. 

Before long there wasn't a single cloth separating the two of you and your mate simply couldn't keep his hands and lips still. Not that he wanted to, either. You moved your hands along his back, trying to avoid his wings, and moving your lips down his neck when he would let you because it seemed like all he wanted to do was eat you up with kisses. 

It wasn't long before he had you panting against him, with the sound of bodies colliding being the only thing your head could process at that moment. The tingling that coursed through your body was like no other you had ever felt; the wonders Azriel was doing with your body were unparalleled. He was panting too and every time he met your eyes it seemed to you that they were darker than the last time, but he never stopped holding you at any moment, never stopped hugging you as if his whole life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

The feel of his body against yours was indescribable, the movement and rhythm almost unbearable. You had never felt pleasure even remotely close to what he was making you feel at that moment. 

“Azriel…” you moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly, burying your nails as if it were your only stability. 

He cursed between gasps, increasing the pace and the force with which he held your waist. 

You were never going to get to touch the sky like you did that night, that much was clear. Even though your head was split in two, you looked into his eyes as you went through the most shattering, sweeping orgasm you'd ever had, reveling in the sounds that came from his mouth as he followed you to paradise. 

You thought it was going to be hard afterwards, but you fell asleep almost instantly. 

When you opened your eyes again, your mate's arms and legs were wrapped around your body and one of his wings was covering your nakedness and keeping you warm. You were facing him, chest to chest, and just looking at his peaceful sleeping face made you want to cry. Life was here, next to him, why couldn't you accept that? 

Getting out of bed without waking him up was quite a battle. Not as much as it was to sit at the foot of the bed, watching him rest, completely unaware of what would await him when he woke up. This time you were being selfish, you knew it, it was too cruel. But in your head there was nothing but disaster, pain disguised as stability. You couldn't have a good life with Azriel now and you didn't know if you could bear to see him to tell him after you promised to stay. You shouldn't have told him that, but how could you tell him otherwise? Maybe if he woke up at that moment you would stay… maybe that's why you sat there for so long. 

But finally you left, just like last time, in the middle of the silence, with his shadows following your feet and trying to keep you company. You felt a deja-vu as you stood in front of the door, thinking about how on both occasions you were thinking about what would happen if someone showed up to stop you. 

It didn't, in either case, and you knew the next day the exact moment when Azriel realized you had done it once again. He didn't try to hide his pain, he didn't have to, you deserved to know how you had made him feel. 

On the ship, on the way to the Continent, you fell to your knees as his pain stole your breath. 

#azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel smut

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as pirates who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for hongjoong), fluff, angst, crack, and as always - a brainrot of every pirate trope to exist

length: 10.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, ransoming, verbal abuse, abduction), alcohol, pet names

a/n: maknae line will come yes but who knows when 🤷‍♀️ work has been really testing my dopamine vibes this year 😔👎 thank you @sorryimananti-romantic for keeping a detailed hitlist for me ♡

hongjoong

pov: you're a royal princess rescued by him

“captain, are you sure we can’t toss her overboard?”

jongho and hongjoong watch as wooyoung’s face falls after you pointedly ignore his attempts to make conversation once again

for someone who is technically their guest aboard the arriba, it seems as though you are hellbent on being as difficult as you can be

“unfortunately, we can’t,” hongjoong grouches to the younger, “not unless we want to exchange our payment for a hefty bounty on our own heads”

when jongho sighs, the captain squeezes his shoulder in comfort and adds on, “trust me, i’ve thought about it too”

hongjoong and his crew are privateers - pirates in theory, but technically excused so long as they have their letter of marque to state that they are authorised to attack other vessels

rescuing a royal princess was never explicitly part of the contract, although he thinks that not rescuing you would have pretty much been equivalent to a blatant show of insubordination

you had been taken ransom by one of the merchant ships the arriba had been plundering

needless to say, they had been close to tossing you overboard too; your kingdom had never paid for your ransom

the lack of response from your parents wasn’t anything you weren’t expecting but it’s a sore spot nonetheless

so it’s certainly hard for you to play friendly when you’re quite literally shucked off from stranger to stranger faster than a hot potato

san tugs wooyoung closer towards him and gently says to you, “he’s just trying to be nice - we all are”

the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you

“i don’t need your pity,” you answer, the only sentence you have spoken today

you’ve lived two decades of your life pretending you don’t see the pitying gazes of your maids and butlers

you certainly don’t need pity from these people - pirates no less

“it’s not-” wooyoung starts to say

but the captain steps in before he can defend himself

“if this is how you’re always acting, i’m starting to see why your kingdom never paid for your ransom”

had hongjoong been less preoccupied by your words, he would have realised that your tone is candid, as if it is only natural for the people around you to pity you

but he’s clouded with his mindset as captain, unable to stand by idly while his own crew put up with your attitude, and so the words come out anyway - shards of shrapnel that bury themselves into your heart

there is only a fleeting second when your eyes dilate with hurt

you conceal it immediately, replacing it with a steely gaze, yet the image has already seared itself into hongjoong’s mind

“maybe you should throw me overboard, then,” you counter, “i’m sure my family will thank you for it”

and even if you have completely neutralised your expression, no one misses the wounded tone of your voice before you disappear down into the lower deck

mingi lets out a low whistle after the resounding slam of the hatch closing

“you fucked up, captain”

hongjoong doesn’t need anyone to spell it out for him

the heavy feeling in his stomach is telling enough

it isn’t until the moon has long since risen that you emerge through the hatch again

you had bypassed the sleeping quarters to the hold, wedging yourself between barrels of grain until you were sure no one would find you

not that they would have tried to anyway - seonghwa had told them all to give you some space

you had run your finger up and down the sides of the barrels repetitively for hours on end, mind simultaneously void and filled with thoughts

the walls you had built around yourself kept you safe, but it had started to become awfully lonely after a while

when it had become a little too suffocating in the hold and you guessed that most of the crew was asleep, you had softly padded back up the stairs and across the main deck

you now sit on the foredeck where the endless expanse of the sea stretches out in front of you, closing your eyes and letting the swaying of the ship lull you into tranquillity

tonight, the moon winks down fondly upon the waters

hongjoong watches you from the quarterdeck

he’s seen you sit at the front of the ship on many nights when you should really have been asleep

he wonders if you’ve always looked so small and fragile with your knees drawn up to your chest, or whether it’s because the flash of hurt in your eyes and voice is still fresh in his mind

“go, captain,” yunho murmurs from where he’s at the helm, “it’s a quiet night”

hongjoong startles at having been caught gazing, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away

“why should i, if she’s just going to ignore me?” he scoffs

but he knows he’s just being petty at this point and his chest churns in agreement

“maybe,” yunho hums softly in response. “did seonghwa ever give up on you, though?”

it’s rhetorical - hongjoong knows the answer better than anyone

the captain doesn’t say anything but after several beats of silence, he sighs and makes a move to the foredeck where you are

yunho smiles to himself

you and hongjoong may be more similar than his captain realises

your shoulders stiffen when the sound of hongjoong’s footsteps approaches

you’re not sure what to expect and you don’t exactly want to find out and risk getting hurt

but having spent all day swimming alone in your thoughts, you do want to show that you feel apologetic because admittedly, you were being an ass too

getting up to walk away when he’s taken the first step certainly won’t help your case

you hold your breath in awkward silence as he settles down beside you, leaving a respectable distance between your hunched figures

only now is hongjoong realising that he hasn’t actually thought about or decided on what he wants to say to you

but he can feel the confusion rolling off of you in waves, so he grits his teeth and says fuck it

“i won’t apologise for defending my crew, but i’m sorry for how i did it and for what i said”

he hopes you know he is sincere when he continues, “we all have our prickly edges. i can’t fault you for yours”

compassion is a foreign concept to you and so you’re a little stumped for words

hongjoong isn’t sure whether your silence is a good or bad thing, but you have yet to stand up and walk away from the conversation

“there’s only about a week left until we reach port and we’ll leave after you make it back to your kingdom and we receive our payment. i’m not asking for you to be friendly, but let’s at least be civil with each other until then,” he says

you want to nod, agree, anything

and yet you can’t seem to make your head move or the words to come out of your mouth

rome was not built in a day. but neither did its walls fall in a day

hongjoong doesn’t push for an answer when instead, you ask, “how many people have you actually tossed overboard before?”

he resists the urge to laugh at your question, suddenly endeared by the fact that you’re still bothered by his very empty threat

“none, but my offer still stands. you’re welcome to be my first,” he deadpans

you let out a snort and although you quickly turn your head away, hongjoong sees the hint of amusement in your eyes

no further words are exchanged between the two of you and you do not acknowledge him when he eventually stands to rejoin yunho at the helm

but it’s a start

and as with any relationship, be it friend, foe, or lover, there is always that

a beginning.

hongjoong isn’t really expecting much to change immediately so he doesn’t pay you much mind when you walk into the mess hall the following morning

you hesitate at the entrance when you see most of the crew are already present, the conversation you had with hongjoong last night replaying at the forefront of your mind

you chew on the inside of your mouth

wooyoung stops mid-conversation at the scrape of a plate on the table, looking up to find you sliding into the seat beside him with a tight-lipped smile

to your surprise, he greets you with enthusiasm and immediately drags you into the conversation

hongjoong watches as you slowly warm up and add one or two comments of your own in between bites of your hardtack

and when he catches your gaze after staring for too long, he gives you a smile to convey his appreciation; to acknowledge your efforts

you return it with a small smile of your own and unbeknownst to you, it stays on your face for the rest of the day

slowly, there become more and more reasons that elicit a smile out of you

you still sit out on the foredeck when everyone else has gone to sleep, but on most nights, hongjoong will join you even if just for a while

the two of you are content to sit side by side with nothing but the steady pulse of the ocean and intermittent creaks of the ship’s hull to break the silence of the night

tonight though, you find curiosity burning through you

“what’s it like?” you ask

“being a pirate?” he clarifies

you shrug vaguely, unsure yourself either, “being a pirate. being at sea. sailing with your crew”

he takes a moment to gather his thoughts - not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because there is too much he wants to say

when hongjoong answers, his voice rumbles softly from within his chest, tender and heartfelt

“there’s a sense of freedom that you can’t obtain when you’re bound to land and society. sailing the waters, the only limits are those of the open seas and of your own compass… the sunrises, the storms, the moonlight - it all becomes part of your home”

hongjoong leans back to rest on the palms of his hands, tilting his gaze up towards the twinkling sky

he reflects, “you experience brotherhood and gain a family that is worth multitudes more than the treasures you can accumulate, even if you were to live as a pirate for several lifetimes”

you’re enraptured by his words, like poetry that swirls off the pages of a book and drifts into your very soul

“i may be the captain of this crew, but they make me who i am. without them, i am nothing”

his words wash over you and unearth vivid memories

“that’s what the queen always says to me,” you reveal

a small smile starts to grace hongjoong’s face, but it falls just as quickly when he hears your next words

“that without her - without her title - i am nothing”

it’s funny, how the same phrase can hold such different meanings; can evoke such different emotions

you don’t elaborate any further, but hongjoong doesn’t think he needs you to in order for him to understand

he just wishes he had more time to show you that your mother is wrong

he can’t though

tomorrow they reach port and you will return to your rightful place in the palace

“tell me more about your crew,” you attempt to change the topic, “how did you all find each other?”

so hongjoong tells you

he talks for hours and hours and you listen all the while with a heavy heart, clinging onto his every word

on your final night, you two stay like that until the stars disappear and the horizon becomes streaked with the pale hues of sunrise

after the ship docks mere hours later, only hongjoong accompanies you to your kingdom after goodbyes are exchanged

wooyoung doesn’t take it well, and you find yourself holding back tears of your own as you are let through the palace doors with the captain by your side

but you blink them away when you approach the throne room because vulnerability is not an emotion you are willing to display

“y/n”

the queen addresses you curtly when you enter, and hongjoong wonders for a split second whether he has brought you back to the wrong kingdom

he knows your mother does not treat you fondly, but it’s still staggering to see it before his very own eyes

the monarch glances distastefully over him before her eyes flicker back to you

“i did not expect your return,” she states

your eyes remain impassive as you merely answer, “neither am i delighted to be back”

hongjoong recognises this look

he’s seen it when you first boarded his ship; he’s seen it when your hackles were raised

he’s seen it in himself, when he had been a teenager filled with nothing but growing resentment, before he had met seonghwa

your mother sneers, “then you should have made yourself useful and stayed with the pirates. as a whore or a dog, whatever it took.”

hongjoong has understood you since learning of your demons, but right now, he is you

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, standing before a couple who are his parents only by title

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, who doesn’t know what he has done that deems him undeserving of love

he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, all alone with no one to take his hand

“or really, you should have died on the ship”

hongjoong is close enough to you to hear the small hitch in your breath at your mother’s final jab

he may not have had someone to save his younger self, but he can do that now

he can be the person he so desperately needed years ago

and so he does just that.

hongjoong grabs your hand and drags you out of the palace

no one stops the two of you from leaving and he is unsure whether his heart hurts for you or sings with relief

you can only stutter in shock as you try to keep up, “hongjoong, what about your payment?”

his determined steps do not slow down, even as he looks back at you with a sure smile, “i told you before. some things are worth more than money”

the comforting squeeze of his hand conveys that you are worth more than any amount of money

the form of the arriba grows bigger in the distance and you think you can see the movement of excitement on deck when the crew spots your figures

hongjoong has slowed down his steps, but he has yet to let go of your hand

“and you deserve to know that. welcome to the crew, y/n”

to a family and love that you never had

you think you like the sound of that

“thank you, captain”

seonghwa

pov: you're a royal navy officer in disguise

you lay awake in your hammock, listening to the soft snores of the crew members around you

sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore

particularly tonight

you contemplate whether it’s worth the risk to simply not show up

you know what the consequences are if they capture you - a slow and painful death - but you’re unsure whether you want to put ateez on the line too

your ship is currently docked for the night, having made a port stop at alcarres following one of the crew’s wishes to retire the pirate lifestyle and settle in the small town

their last night with ateez had been celebrated with sloshing rum and rowdy jigs, something you had found strange

there’s none of that in the royal navy

when one leaves, it is shameful and through one of three options only; old age, crippling injury, or…death

you had asked seonghwa, the quartermaster, why he and the captain were so accepting when crew members left as they wished

he had simply smiled and answered, “better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew”

his words are like a sharp stone in your shoe as you finally slip out of your hammock and make your way off the ship

as ordered, you head to the tavern addressed

you salute the person in front of you and ease into your seat with a formality only when he disregards you

“admiral jang”

“you’re late,” the royal navy officer raises an eyebrow

“sorry, sir. i had to make sure everyone was asleep”

it’s not exactly the truth, but no one needs to know that you had spent an hour in your hammock questioning your morality

he ignores your excuse, jesting as he asks of your captain, “has the pirate king found the chart’s whereabouts yet?”

the charts

centuries ago, a crew of experienced sailors had travelled the six great seas and created the original navigational charts

the charts had become scattered and lost over time, but its value only increased exponentially as more and more sailors became victims to the sea trying to map its waters to the same detail and accuracy as the original charts

of the six originals, only the whereabouts of five are known, with most of them within the possession of the royal navy

it’s rumoured that hongjoong - the pirate king - has his hands on two of them and is currently tracking down the lost chart of the aurorian sea

the only sea that has yet to be chartered after its original map due to its dangerous and unpredictable sailing conditions

you know that your next words can hold an inexplicable amount of possibilities

“not yet. the last lead didn’t get him anywhere. turned out the last of the ahn clan had passed a decade ago”

his lips flatten at the lack of worthwhile information

“where’s the captain headed to next, then?” he probes

for a split second, the thought of lying crosses your mind

you can’t provide a different location - it would be much too obvious and would raise immediate suspicions

but you could give him a different time frame

after all, it’s not uncommon for navigational routes to be one to two weeks off should the waters be unpredictable enough

you find the truth spilling out of you anyway once you’re looking into his stone-cold eyes

“vlasgar. in about three weeks’ time”

for a moment, time stands still as your heart pounds and you attempt to slow your breathing, the officer staring back at you calculatingly

then he finally hums in satisfaction

you think that he is going to dismiss you, but as you make a move to leave, he leans back in his seat

the split second of hesitation was enough

“remember where your loyalty lies, y/n”

the air feels cold with the underlying threat

seonghwa’s words flit through your mind

better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew

you swallow, “of course, admiral”

and then you’re dismissed with a nod

the unsettling feeling follows you all the way back to the ship and every miniscule creak of the floorboards underneath you seems to be amplified in the silence

you let out a short gasp of surprise when you’re about to climb back into your hammock, only to see seonghwa blinking blearily at you

“couldn’t sleep ‘gain?” he mumbles

you choke out a response, “yeah”

“i’ll make you tea b’fore you sleep ‘morrow,” his words slur with sleepiness

“okay,” you whisper

but you know it won’t make a difference

after all, there’s no remedy for guilt

it continues to fester the next day, as you linger outside the captain’s quarters

you can’t remember why you had come down to the lower deck, but it doesn’t matter now, not with seonghwa and the captain discussing what you think is related to the aurorian chart

“do you think he’s still in vlasgar?”

“min taesoo? it’s hard to say. but i’m sure he’ll have acquaintances still on the island who may have an idea of where he’s gone”

min taesoo

your brain tries to carefully file the name away, knowing that it’s what admiral jang would want to know, but at the same time, your heart tries to pretend it doesn’t know what you have heard so that you can forget about it

you find yourself scratching the name onto a scrap of paper anyway

unbeknownst to you, at the almost-imperceivable sound of your footsteps walking away, the two men behind the doors share a look

the crew sets sail again in the afternoon towards the next destination - vlasgar - and the scrap of paper in your pocket weighs you down so heavily that you feel off-kilter as you absentmindedly follow jongho up into the rigging to unfurl the sails

you’re near the top of the ropes when a sudden wave lurches the boat to starboard

it’s only a small push, really, but with your mind elsewhere, it catches you off guard and you miss your next step

the feeling of your hand dislodging from the sudden drag of your body weight brings you back to the present with a yell of surprise

(whether it’s your own or jongho’s, you can’t remember)

your sailing experience takes over and you try to swing your body back towards the safety of the rigging

you barely manage to grasp the ropes again but your hands slip down with your weight until they hit the next knot, the hot rush of friction threatening your grip

with adrenaline rushing through your body, you shakily climb back down, where there are several pairs of hands waiting to help you down the rest of the rigging

seonghwa’s hands do not leave you even after your feet are planted on the deck again

dread and shame heat the back of your neck and curl around onto your cheeks, knowing that a mistake like the one you had just made - accidental or not - would lead to a punishment like confinement in the lower deck back in the royal navy

except, when an apology starts to form on your lips, seonghwa bursts out in dismay

“y/n, your hands!”

you let out an unintelligible noise as seonghwa gently turns your palms over and you realise that the ropes have grazed some of the skin off

“it’s fine,” you want to say

but you’re silenced when he leads you to the small sick bay on the orlop deck

even if there is no surgeon on board, there is a small chest fastened to the wall that is home to their few and valuable medical supplies

you sit as he fusses over you with alcohol and strips of cloth

although he does a good job of wrapping your hands, your insides start to bleed with how intensely guilt eats away at you, like a maggot deep inside the core of a festering apple

that night as you shuffle towards your hammock to sleep, you flinch when you find seonghwa already sitting in his

he’s fighting the heaviness in his eyes as he carefully cradles something

upon seeing you, he wordlessly hands it to you with a sleepy smile before he finally sags into his own hammock with a content sigh

you look down and the warmth of it seems to burn through the padded dressing that the man before you has tenderly wrapped around your palms

the sensation travels upwards to burn your heart too

because in your hands is a cup of warm chamomile tea

and yet, despite the emptied cup, you find yourself unable to fall asleep

but in the darkness of the sky, with no witnesses other than the waves and sea foam themselves, a small piece of crumpled paper gets tossed overboard that night

the closer their ship approaches vlasgar, the more distant seonghwa notices you become

he worries

seonghwa thinks he worries for the reasons that he should be

he is the quartermaster; entrusted to protect the crew as the captain’s right-hand man

if that means ensuring no one will compromise the rest of his crew, even if it’s you, then so be it

that’s what he justifies to himself as he walks through the cobbled streets of vlasgar, slinking through the shadows as he follows your figure from a safe distance

(in reality, seonghwa worries for the reasons that he is not quite ready to admit yet)

he follows you into the dim bar of a tavern and carefully situates himself where he can watch over you without being discovered

he orders a mug of common ale as you approach someone

the man is dressed in civilian attire, but seonghwa can tell straight away from his demeanour and expression that he is not as ordinary as he appears

it’s confirmed when he hears you say, “admiral jang”

and then he sees it

the small but striking lapel pin on the breast of the man’s coat - the royal navy’s insignia

seonghwa feels for the sash that’s hidden underneath his own jacket and his fingertips meet the cool metal of the pistol tied inside

“you better have updates for me, y/n. what’s the pirate king’s purpose here in vlasgar?”

seonghwa knows he only has about five seconds to make a decision - one that could jeopardise the crew, or one that could jeopardise you

but you surprise yourself and the both of them when you answer steadfastly, “i don’t know, sir”

despite the din of drunker patrons in the tavern, it seems to fall deathly silent

“am i hearing wrong, officer?” the admiral questions with a disbelieving scoff

to your credit, your voice does not waver when you state again, “no, sir. i believe the captain and quartermaster are lying low. they have not revealed anything to me nor the rest of the crew”

seonghwa suddenly understands why you have distanced yourself

the admiral’s jaw tics

“is that so.”

you do not respond, only focusing on the spot between his raised eyebrows as he leans forward across the table

“where does your loyalty lie, y/n?”

neither the admiral nor seonghwa need to hear your answer to know the truth

a small crew may be outnumbered, but they have strength in loyalty and devotion

there’s a glint of movement from underneath the table as the admiral inches something out from his belt

seonghwa makes his decision

you flinch, eyes wide as there’s a deafening gunshot and the table beside you splinters and scatters the tankards of alcohol onto the floor

instantaneously, chaos erupts

there are drunken yells of fright and weapons clumsily brandished, tables upturned and chairs hurled across the room

it only takes one other misfired shot for the tavern to descend into hellfire as customers who were previously drinking together now turn on one another

nobody notices the two pirates dashing out, not even admiral jang, who is busy wrangling two inebriated men off his arms

your composure dissolves the moment you are dragged into an alleyway several streets away and you look up in shock to discover-

“seonghwa?! why are you here?”

“i could say the same about you,” he counters, hardly out of breath

you’re stunned by the fact that he seems completely unfazed by the mess that he has just dragged you out of

something clicks

“was that you? did you know all along?”

seonghwa smiles, “let’s just say you’re not as subtle as you think you are when you sneak around. plus, it’s uncommon for sailors to have the experience that you do without having had some sort of training”

you curse under your breath and wince, “does hongjoong know too?”

the quartermaster nods and you fear the answer to your next question

“then why has he not…why have you not…”

“killed you yet?” seonghwa chuckles. “i’m sure you’ve realised by now how skewed the royal navy’s beliefs are”

you’re quiet

the royal navy has always been cult-like in preaching the ruthlessness and barbarism of pirates, drilling into the officers the belief that pirates are the scum of the sea

but everything that you’ve known has been proven false since you’ve joined ateez; ironically, the pirates are more humane than the royal navy themself

their crew stand at attention whenever hongjoong or seonghwa walk onto the deck - not out of cultivated fear but genuine respect

when jongho is sore and tired from handling the riggings on a particularly rough and windy day, the others will offer to cover for his chores instead of flogging him into submission

and when mingi is divvying up the shares of the provisions and loot, the others will slip an extra bar of soap for seonghwa, the shiniest ring for mingi, or the largest bottle of rum for yunho, because they want to make each other happy

“hongjoong is the pirate king, yes, but a king should not take the lives of others for his own power. a true king uses his power to change the lives of others for the better…like yours…and like mine”

you frown with a jerk of your head

“what do you mean?”

you can’t see seonghwa as a broken man whatsoever

he gives you a weak smile, “i, too, used to be part of the royal navy”

your jaw drops

everything clicks into place - how he had figured out you weren’t just a common sailor and why he hadn’t confronted you about it

the shame and guilt come rushing back over you in a storm that is much too familiar by now

“i’m so sorry, all i’ve done is betray your trust-”

“but that’s what second chances are for, no?” seonghwa cuts you off, playfully flicking your forehead as he reminds you, “and i’m pretty sure you’ve chosen me over the royal navy”

your cheeks grow hot

“not you. the crew,” you mutter

he laughs and it’s a wonderful sound

“come on, it’s late,” seonghwa beckons. “let’s get some sleep”

when he sees that you’re still rooted to the spot, unsure whether you are deserving to go back, he decides for you and moves behind you to gently nudge you forward by the shoulders

you let him guide you

his hands are warm, you note, even through the linen of your shirt

his hands are also pretty, you observe, when he tries to fluff your hammock once you two have crept your way back to the berth

seonghwa helps you up into the hammock and you watch as he climbs into his

his hands are also teeming with love, you realise, when he wordlessly extends his arm nearest to you in a silent invitation

if you both reach out, you can just entwine your hands together from your respective hammocks

the burns on your palms have healed nicely and without the need for them to be wrapped, you can feel every expanse of his hand covering yours

he doesn’t retract his hand and neither do you, even though it’s not the most comfortable position and you both lose feeling of your arms soon after

but you lay in your hammock, drifting to the soft snores of the crew members around you and the soft tug of seonghwa’s fingers in yours

sleep comes easy to you

particularly tonight

as it will for the rest of your life

yunho

pov: you're the crew's navigator

you know it’s going to happen even before it actually does

you can feel it in the air and from the way the baby hairs around your hairline start to frizz

but you never say anything because you wouldn’t trade it for the moment when the first raindrop hits the back of yunho’s neck and he abandons his duty at the helm to drag you out onto the upper deck

(hongjoong only sighs in defeat before he stations himself at the helm instead)

you don’t like the rain

not like yunho does

you are already looking up from the map spread out in the captain’s quarters, a knowing smile on your face just from the sound of his bounding footsteps alerting you of his presence, when yunho appears with the beckon of rain

you pretend to let yourself be dragged to your feet along to his urges of come on!

but then you dash forward towards the hatch with yunho chasing after your bright laughter

in the short span of time that it has taken him to fetch you, the sprinkle of rain has steadily grown and the weathered planks of the deck are already a dark grey

you feel the coldness of the raindrops hitting the crown of your head and the spreading chill as your clothes start to become damp

but that’s not what makes you feel alive

yunho catches up to you easily and then he is snaking his arms around your waist to lift you up into the air

you barely have time to squeal and steady yourself on his broad shoulders before he is spinning the two of you around, the world blurring away as the spotlight shines on him and he is all that you can see

the deck is your stage and the sea is your audience

rain with yunho is twirling hugs, tiptoed kisses and tinkling laughter. it’s soaked shirts and rosy cheeks and the only thing that matters in the moment

you don’t like the rain, but it’s easy to like the rain when it’s with him

(hongjoong lets the two of you be - so obviously and hopelessly enamoured by each other - because when one sees people in love, one cannot help but watch and smile)

the rain eventually peters out and you and yunho must return to your respective duties, but not until you two have changed out of your drenched clothes and sneaked in a few more kisses

a few hours later, you hear the racket above the deck as a ship pulls up beside the arriba and ropes are thrown across from both sides to lash the vessels close together

hongjoong comes down to join you in his quarters, but he’s not alone

behind him is the captain of the silver light, dae jihoo, and his quartermaster, with seonghwa entering last

you note that this crew doesn’t have a navigator of their own

but you suppose that’s one of the reasons why their captain had implored an alliance for this particular raid

the crew of the silver light are wanting to target the prosperity triangle - an area between three large ports that is frequently trafficked by wealthy vessels transporting valuable goods

it’s a raid that would prove difficult for a smaller pirate crew like your own and the silver light, and especially if they have no navigator

but it’s not uncommon for pirates to form temporary alliances for such purposes, and together, your crews have a good chance of plundering a fortune

you nod your head in acknowledgement when hongjoong introduces you to the two pirates as ateez’s navigator

you don’t miss the way jihoo’s eyes seem to linger on you for a second too long before he flashes a crooked grin and gestures towards the navigational map spread out on the oak table

clearing your throat of discomfort, you step forward and flatten the creases out with your hands

“this is the most open spot within the triangle that the vessel we’re after will pass through,” you tap an annotated spot on the chart, “and this is where we are now”

you slide your finger across, “we’ll follow the rhumb line west to avoid the shallower waters and when we can catch the trade winds, it should be smooth sailing from there”

jihoo challenges you, “how can you be sure we’ll catch the ship within the triangle?”

“they’ll need to sail past the equator and i’m almost certain their ship will be slowed down by the doldrums. we can easily gain knots on them”

he squints at the scribbles you’ve made noting down what you’ve gathered of the wind patterns

you know for a fact that it will mean nothing to him, but whatever he sees must satisfy him because jihoo appears to make up his mind

“when do we set sail?” he directs his question to your captain

“three days from now”

he grunts a noise of affirmation and stands, which hongjoong takes as the cue to see them and the rest of their crew off your ship

you trail behind the group as you all head back to the upper deck

you prepare to emerge from the hatch with a playful wink, knowing that yunho will be craning his neck from the helm to get a glimpse of you, when a sudden holler surprises you out of your thoughts

it’s immediately met with the answering cries of several other pirates - none from your crew - and you hurry to clear the hatch to gain your bearings

you’re thrust right into the throes of battle as ateez are forced to unsheathe their cutlasses to defend against silver light’s sudden attack

having been caught off guard, basically none of your firearms are loaded with gunpowder, rendering them unusable

you will have to make do with the short sabre at your waist

there’s no time to account for the whereabouts and safety of your crew members and you just have to pray that you all make it out of this unscathed

especially yunho

but as ateez retaliate, you all notice something is off about the situation

your crew is very quickly overpowering the other pirates - it was a losing fight for them from the very beginning

it makes no sense to you nor the rest of your crew

the losses of breaking the alliance before the planned raid, much less through betrayal, far outweigh any gains they could possibly make from their choice of action

it makes absolutely no sense

until it does.

you are blocking the swing of a sabre with your own when you are tugged backwards harshly by the collar of your shirt

there’s an angry snarl in your throat as you prepare to turn around, but it’s quickly silenced by the warning shot of a pistol right beside your ear

the cold ring of metal is then pressed to the back of your head

you know that firearms require time to reload and there’s a chance that this pistol is now useless

but, like wooyoung has taught the rest of the crew to do, they may have pre-prepared several pistols and you are not willing to play with fire - especially when you are only the flex of a finger away from death

you vaguely hear someone yell out your name in panic, but you’re not quite sure you hear correctly over the clamour of cutlasses clashing, warcries resounding and your own heartbeat pounding

“stand down or your navigator dies,” the voice behind you thunders

it’s jihoo…and he wants a navigator for his crew

“ateez,” one of your men commands, “lower your weapons”

your crew may make decisions fairly, but in battle, only hongjoong has the power to make commands

yunho has never spoken against his captain or disobeyed orders

until now

the words do not come out of your captain’s mouth but yunho’s

the rest of the members hesitate - they will not stand down unless hongjoong commands them to, yet, they are unsure whether they will be able to follow should he demand them to fight on, even if it means endangering your life

but there is no guarantee jihoo will let your crew go unharmed even after you all surrender, and as the captain, hongjoong must make decisions in the best interest for the crew

“captain!” yunho yells desperately

yunho never yells

“stand down,” hongjoong commands

silver light’s captain steps in closer behind you until you can hear and feel the noise of intriguement that leaves his mouth down the back of your neck

“that your loverboy, hmm?”

he smirks

there’s a false moment of primal relief when the press of the pistol is removed from the back of your head, but it is immediately replaced with fear that is irrevocably worse as he aims it in yunho’s direction and shoots

“no!”

you shriek and pull against the tug of his hold, still fisted around your collar, your pupils blown wide with terror at the sight of the clean hole in the mast right beside yunho’s head

“it’ll be pretty boy’s head next if you don’t come with me,” jihoo coos into your ear

the fight slips out of you immediately

because if you can save him, a life for a life, then you will

even if the sight of mingi holding yunho back from lunging forward when the pistol’s barrel returns to your head makes your heart clench painfully

“y/n, don’t you dare,” yunho pleads, voice filled with anguish

you’re barely given enough time to lock eyes with him and say resolutely, “remember what you said to me,” before you are tugged away to the boarding plank

ateez can only watch helplessly as the planks are removed from over the bulwarks and the last of the ropes are untied, releasing the silver light from their ship for good

jihoo tugs you down the hatch as the ship starts to pull away, and just like that, you’re gone from their sights

“fuck!” yunho shouts furiously, unable to contain his emotions as he turns around and connects his fist with the mast

right where the musket ball had made a hole

his hand pulls away with bloodied knuckles from the splintered wood and the sheer force of his punch

a concerned whine leaves seonghwa’s mouth and he tries to approach the taller, but yunho shakes him off and looks determinedly at hongjoong

“we’re sailing to the banver isle just east of the triangle. we’ll ambush them there”

seonghwa looks between the two, hope flickering in his chest at the potential plan, “you think the silver light are stupid enough to try taking on the prosperity triangle alone?”

yunho chuckles darkly, “they were fucking shitbrained enough to take y/n, so yes”

nobody disagrees and hongjoong smirks dangerously

“ateez, ready the sails for banver isle,” he commands. “prepare for battle”

because not only have the silver light taken you away from ateez, but they have also annihilated the light from yunho’s eyes

gone are his warm brown orbs - they are now black holes thirsty for retribution

there will be lives to pay and even that will not be enough for the void

unaware of what your crew is capable of, jihoo looks down at you with a triumphant leer

“you’ll navigate us to the triangle in three days’ time. don’t even think about lying - you’ve already shown me where the location is”

with an even nod you reply, “of course”

it’s true though - you have absolutely no intention of navigating them somewhere else

because you know yunho will be waiting there for you

amidst chaste kisses exchanged between plush lips cold from the rain, yunho tells you in a brief moment of seriousness

“don’t show them where the real location is,” his breath is warm across your cheeks. “you know the coastal island roughly ten nautical miles away? show them that instead”

you tilt your head to look up at him, “you think they’ll betray us?”

“no,” he reassures you with a deeper, slower kiss, “but we can never be too safe”

and even if your vessels miss each other this time, you have complete faith that yunho will sail to the very ends of the world just to find you

two days before the originally-planned raid, the arriba sails as closely to banver isle as possible without risking running aground

yunho has navigated the ship around the back of the isle so that the form of the rocky terrain conceals them from sight

once the anchor is lowered, the crew members use every ticking moment to make preparations

swords are sharpened and firearms cleaned

mingi distributes the gunpowder and ammunition, which is pre-loaded into muskets, pistols and swivel cannons ready to be engaged

the ship’s sails and riggings are checked and yeosang keeps a keen lookout in the crow’s nest

and it’s as if the world itself can sense the brewing storm that grows inside yunho

the sea is eerily still and silent, but the sky is an omen to something impending, its rolling clouds dark and angry with the threat of rain leering over the waters

yunho doesn’t actually like the rain

he only likes it because it’s with you

rain with you is barefoot dancing, breathless confessions and bashful giggles. it’s drenched locks and fluttering eyelashes and the only thing that exists in the moment

but as the profile of the silver light finally approaches the isle two days later, the heavens split open and you are not by his side

rain without you is falling pinpricks, frigid winds and flaunting mockery and yunho despises it with his entire being

at yeosang’s call of, “vessel approaching from starboard,” up in the lookout, yunho smothers the fervid desire to barrage the other ship with cannonballs like hail from hell; to unleash an inferno that blazes through their hull as he sadistically watches the crew jump for their lives

he stamps out the hunger to shoot the ones that make it into the sea, not to kill, only to maim and induce a long, painful struggle in the open waters until death becomes inevitable - until there is enough blood spilt that it becomes the only stench in the air that stretches across for miles

yunho leashes his monsters with an iron fist

because he will not do anything that could even remotely endanger your life

even if it means that he has to hold back - to sit and wait like prey instead of advancing on the other ship like a predator

at least not yet.

silver light do not know, but this is the calm before the storm

the heavens may be crying, the winds may be howling and the waters may be roiling

but this is nothing compared to yunho

yunho is a tempest of unparalleled rage and their ship is in the eye of his storm

as the bowsprit of the silver light starts to appear around the isle, the members ready their grappling hooks and yunho draws his cutlass with a menacing whisper of unsheathing metal

you are his treasure, and pirates never lose sight of their treasure

today…you return to him

yeosang

pov: you're a tavern keeper

watching the ale reach the brim of the tankard you are holding, you’re about to step away from the barrel when the voice of a patron sounds behind you

“‘scuse me, could i get a mint-”

you look up and turn around in confusion as their voice cuts off

only to have the question taken right from the tip of your own tongue as you’re met with the face of the person you had loved for years

the same person you have spent twice as long trying to forget

eyes searching each other’s in a surprised stupor, seeing kang yeosang standing right in front of you takes you back to those memories that you have tried to remember and simultaneously bury

it thrusts you headfirst into what used to be of your shared love - like the feathery remnants of a dream, so distant from the fingers of your consciousness, suddenly returning to vivid existence when you least expect it

“hey, mint leaf. i’m back”

yeosang at least has the perceptiveness to appear a little apologetic, immediately pulling you into a hug and pressing soft kisses against your hairline uncaring of the other people in the tavern

it’s been several weeks since you last saw him, and whilst he had warned you he would be gone for longer this time, you hadn’t expected it to mean two whole months

he’s a small merchant who also fishes along the coast to earn enough to make ends meets, so he’s often gone for a few days or a week or two

you knew what you were in for when you first made it official with him, but just because you become accustomed to something, doesn’t mean it gets any easier

and he’s never been gone for this long

something must have happened - something good - because he looks alive, cheeks glowing and eyes fiery

“i met the crew”

“the crew?” you ask, hands reaching for the bourbon to prepare him a drink as he lets himself behind the counter to stand beside you in your workspace

he nods excitedly, "wooyoung’s pirate crew, ateez"

you think you know where this is going to go and you hate that your stomach sinks at the thought of what your future may become, because yeosang looks so happy to tell you about this and a happy yeosang is all that you could ask for

“the captain offered me a position as their lookout”

you pick out your next words carefully as you hand him his finished drink - a mint julep with two sugar cubes, just the way he likes it

"aren't…isn't being a pirate dangerous?"

“not as dangerous as you might think, actually. they’ve been showing me the ropes the last couple of weeks and…and i think i want to join them. officially”

there it is

the forked end of the road

you wonder how far two people can keep walking with their hands intertwined before the distance becomes too great and they have to let go

his words become a little muddled when he goes on to tell you about how they divvied up their recent loot to include his share too

how he’s gained more money than he’s made from the last two years of working as a merchant and fisherman combined

if he joins his old friend and his crew, he could earn enough to buy his parents a proper house; earn enough to build you your very own tavern

you want to tell him that you don’t need the tavern, just him, but you also know just how important his family is to him

his filial desire to take care of his parents was one of the very reasons you fell in love with him in the first place

before you can say anything though, the tavern keeper is interrupting to let you know that your shift is over

yeosang immediately perks up and herds you out of the place, claiming that there is a new fishing spot he discovered that he has to show you

and so you sit while he rows his modest boat, only the splash of his oars disturbing the peaceful stillness that has settled over the waters as the sun dips below the horizon

the waning light casts a soft, warm glow over him, like a gentle kiss against his skin and birthmark

if angels graced the earth, there would be one sitting right in front of you

“i missed you, mint leaf,” he confesses, gaze shyly averted. “i thought about you when i was gone”

“did you think about showing me this place?” you feel a little breathless

he nods, “every single night”

and that’s enough for you

it feels like everything is okay again

it doesn’t matter if you’re standing at a forked road

you think that perhaps, for him, you can walk on an unpaved path - just so that you can keep holding his hand

“y/n”

yeosang’s voice is deep

the word sounds foreign to your own ears but you don’t dwell on it

(because if you do, you’ll wonder whether it’s because you’ve forgotten the sound of his voice or because you want to hear him calling you something else)

“what would you like to order?” you ask

(because it’s easier to pretend that he’s just another patron than to admit that he used to be all that you ever knew)

yeosang fumbles a little but then regains himself, “oh, um- just a mint julep, please”

you turn your back to him to prepare his drink, hands reaching for the barrels lined along the bottom shelves without needing to look

you’ve made this drink too many times to count

half of those times were in the safety of the darkness that midnight offered; when the tears could flow freely without anyone seeing

it’s only when you start to mix his cocktail that yeosang realises he didn’t ask for his sugar cubes, but he figures the drink will taste bitter tonight either way so he opts to watch you instead

he wishes that he could walk past the counter like he used to and wrap his arms around you

he wishes that he could whisper endearments into your ears and press them against your lips

he wishes that he could show you that he still loves you

“do you still love me?” your voice wavers with hurt as you stand in front of him

he’s finally back after being gone for four months this time and you hate this conversation as much as he does, but it was bound to happen eventually

yeosang pleads, “more than anything”

“then why does it hurt so much? loving you…and being loved by you”

he doesn’t have an answer

but god be damned if he doesn’t try to find a way to fix things

“tell me, mint leaf, what can i do?”

you blink back your tears furiously, having already made up your mind while he was still at sea

“let’s break up”

because in the end, unpaved paths have too many rocks, too many thorns and too many arched roots; they were never meant to be walked along

you pass yeosang his finished drink without another word and then move further down the counter to serve a different customer

his eyes linger on you wistfully before he tears them away from you

it’s a good thing his hair has grown long enough to cover his face when he looks down

because his eyes start to grow wet at the sight of the mint julep you have made him

with two sugar cubes in it, just the way he likes it

perhaps, once you’ve loved somebody, you never really stop loving them

yeosang shows up again the next day and seats himself at the bar

you don’t serve him though, actively avoiding his end of the counter and letting another of your staff tend to him

he orders his usual but he leaves out his request for additional sugar cubes

it feels wrong for him to order it from someone that isn’t you

but you’re watching out of the corner of your eye as the worker mixes the bourbon, sugar and water, topping it with a few mint leaves and then sliding it across the counter for him

you let out a little sigh, half amused, when he takes a small sip and smacks his lips together at the bitterness

you take two sugar cubes and drop it unceremoniously into his pewter cup before you realise what you’re doing

yeosang immediately seizes the opportunity to talk to you

“my crew’s docked for the fortnight…” he waits to see if you’ll respond. you don’t, but you also don’t move away, so he continues. “we’re making some repairs to the hull and sails before our next raid”

you have half a mind to walk away after you reply, “i didn’t ask” 

he forges on regardless

“we’re going to work with another crew for this one. it’s going to increase our chances of a successful raid because-”

your voice comes out a little harsher than you mean for it to when you hiss again, “i didn’t ask”

yeosang’s mouth closes as he pulls away slightly, back straightening

then he says in a softer voice, “i’ve been doing well. wooyoung still takes care of me, even though i’m not new to the crew anymore. i also saw my parents today and they’re happily retired now…”

you don’t stop him from talking this time

because how many sleepless nights have you spent sitting outside your tavern looking up at the stars; how many times have you served a mint julep to a patron and accidentally added sugar cubes; how many moments have you been consumed by the thought of him, simply wondering if he is living well?

this is everything that you have ever wanted - yeosang in the flesh letting you know that, yes, he has been well

but it is also everything that you have ever feared - that he has been well even without you

you don’t know what to feel

“my parents asked about you,” he says gingerly. “how have you been?”

his voice is barely audible, as if he is afraid of what you might say

or perhaps, afraid that you might not say anything at all

“good. excellent,” you force a small smile, your eyes still focused on the mint leaves floating in his drink. you don’t think you can look at him. “i own this place now”

his body loses its tension, cheeks rounding as he looks at you with genuine relief

“that’s…that’s really good to hear”

his words sting

you are unsure if it stings your ego or if it picks at the wound in the shape of the person you have lost

but it hurts to know that he has worried over you in the exact same way you have over him, the whole time you two have been apart

you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation and hot tears well in your eyes almost immediately

your bottom lip starts to crumple so you rush into the back room to escape

“y/n!” yeosang calls out after you, alarmed

when you don’t stop, disappearing into the storage, he jolts up from his seat and follows

your body shudders with every heaving breath you take, unable to stop yourself from crying even harder when you feel him tug you into his chest

you try to pull away but his sturdy arms tighten around you

yeosang refuses to let you go once more

“i hate you,” you sob, struggling against his hold as you hit his chest weakly

he hushes comforts against the crown of your head, soothing noises as he endures your fists

“you have every reason to”

yeosang holds back tears of his own

he feels your body gradually losing its fight, sinking into his embrace instead, hands desperately holding him close

your voice is so impossibly small when you tearfully confess, “but i still love you”

“oh, mint leaf,” he brushes the stray locks of hair away from your face and cradles your jaw tenderly, “i still love you, too”

he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, pulling away once only to reaffirm, “so, so much”

when he kisses you again, his lips taste salty against your own, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter than this

your breath no longer stutters but the tears continue to run down your face because your heart finally feels right after all these years apart

and yet-

you pull away

“we can’t do this”

yeosang feels his heart shattering

“why not? i don’t understand,” he whimpers

“you know why,” you say distressingly, “my life is here, yeosang. i can’t just leave and return whenever i want. but you, on the other hand? you can. you go where your crew goes - you belong with them”

“but my heart belongs to you. please, y/n,” he begs

his arms are still wrapped around you and you feel his desperation as his fingers cling onto you like a lifeline

you look earnestly into his bloodshot eyes, your own vision blurry, “yeo, you’re not the one who gets left behind here. you’re not the one who waits weeks, months, years on end, just hoping that the next person to walk in is the person that you want to see”

he wants to plead that he waits to see you, too, but he knows that he’s the one who leaves, too

“you’re the right one for me - the only one for me - but it’s not the right time,” you tell him gently

slowly, his arms lower themselves from around you

“it wasn’t the right time then and it isn’t the right time now,” he repeats, “then when is the right time for us?”

you shoot the question right back at him, “when is the right time for someone whose life is to sail the world?”

neither of you know the answer

nobody does, because loving a pirate has no certainties

but yeosang doesn’t give up

“if we can’t ever be sure, why don’t we just make it the right time ourselves?”

you caress his cheek sweetly, and despite having stepped away from you earlier, he leans into your hand, starved of your loving touch and affection

“yeosang…what if we’ve already had it? what if…meeting each other was already it? what if we’re just meant to love from a distance, not side by side?” your voice is poignant but resolute

he brings up a hand to cover yours, still warm and tender against his wet cheek

how is it that he can be touching you yet simultaneously feel worlds apart from you

“okay,” he accepts with a whisper

if loving you silently is the only way he gets to love you, then he will choose it in a heartbeat over losing you entirely

he thumbs away the remainder of your tears

“can i kiss you? one last time?” he asks

you nod

“one last time”

your lips slowly meet, slotting together as they find their home in each other’s dips and curves

his hands cradle the small of your back and neck and your own hands rest against his chest

the kiss you share is steady, longing and bittersweet

it conveys everything that you want to say to each other, and even then, it is hardly enough

thank you

i’m sorry

i love you

goodbye…

you can feel your eyes burning up again, but you focus on the feeling of yeosang’s lips against yours instead

because you know that the moment one of you pulls away, that is it forever

in the world of love, there are people who are ill-fated

they meet the right person, but at the wrong time

and then there are people like you and yeosang

not ill-fated, but star-crossed lovers

the right person…

but just not meant to be

#loren writes #ateez fics #ateez fic #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong scenarios #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa scenarios #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang scenarios #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez au #pirate ateez #pirate!ateez #pirateez #ateez crack

[dudeitiskarev]

I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[bunny-yan]

How about yandere king when the reader finally get stockholm syndrome?

Given how he’s taken away everyone that you’ve ever loved and prevents you from relying on anyone else for comfort and solace with their lives as collateral if a secret relationship ever gets found out, I can see Idris’s darling being completely in shambles, crying for him to comfort them. TW: Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of violence, slight depictions of depression, yandere themes — 

You’d been inconsolable for weeks now. 

Moping when you weren’t laying in bed, refusing to get up some days until you were threatened with being confined in that same position since you liked it so much. When you did leave the room you were despondent, distant with his attention and only offering noncommittal simple answers whenever he spoke to you. 

Idris supposed your newfound laziness wouldn’t bother him so much if you’d allowed him to take certain liberties, but whenever he tried to wrap his arm around your waist, brush a finger down your cheek, or make the barest amount of contact with your skin, you jerked away violently as if something was burning you. 

Of course he’d get angry, never learning how to handle rejection despite the experiences he’d had with you over the course of your lives, and you learned that his anger always came with pain. Your back had yet to heal from the last time you’d spoken brazenly, telling him to leave you alone. Despite the rage clouding his vision, he couldn’t help the amusement he felt at this new spark of rebellion he thought he’d long since crushed and even more confusing was the hope in your eyes whenever his punishments were meted out.

  He knew you weren’t stupid. Or maybe you were since you seemed to like provoking him so often these days, but he couldn’t understand why you were so desperate for him to hurt you. 

“My love?” he called out, a quick sweep through the bedroom revealed that you were right where he left you this morning. Curled up on your side looking as if you’d been devastated by the world. 

“It’s time to get up now. If you aren’t feeling well, surely a walk through the garden will lift your spirits.”

“Leave me alone.” came your muffled reply. 

He felt irritation strike the edges of his control, but he held back, thinking it prudent to find the cause for this misbehavior rather than giving you what you wanted. 

“Are you sick? Sit up so I can check.”

“Leave me-”

“Sit up.”

Something in his voice had your stomach lurching, forcing you to rise before you could tell yourself not to. Looking into his eyes, the predatory gaze softened as he walked to the edge of the bed. Putting a hand on your forehead, his eyes flicked between yours before he sighed. 

Your body began to relax when he pulled his hand away, but you choked on a gasp when his hand lashed out to grab your throat. His fingers gripped you lightly, feeling your racing pulse as your wide eyes stared into his narrowed ones. 

“You’re not sick. But I’m sure you knew that already.” Tapping a finger against your throat, you held your breath when his grip tightened ever so slightly. “What I can’t understand is why you’re so keen to make me angry.” 

Fingers clipped your chin before snapping your head up. “What’s gotten into you, my love?” His words caressed your ears and you shuddered, wanting to back away but not having the courage. Despite his placating tone, you noticed the wild look in his eyes. They promised to make you suffer if you did anything wrong. “I thought we’d moved past these childish tantrums. Why is your behavior regressing?”

Attempting to avoid his gaze, you tried to pull away from his grip, but his free hand lifted to rest lazily on your neck as the other cupped your cheek. 

“Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.” Despite his hissed threats, his thumb brushed across your cheek and for the smallest moment you let yourself relish in the affection. Barely leaning into his touch before jerking away with wide eyes that stared into his own expression slack in shock. 

Your heart dropped, wanting to deny that he’d noticed in that short time, barely a fraction of a second, but he’d seen it. 

Longing. A desire for something deeper, something that couldn’t be condensed in a word as simple as love. 

He’d never seen you make that expression before and from the panic in your eyes he was sure you didn’t mean for him to pick up on these carefully hidden emotions but he had. 

A grin stretched his expression, smile becoming unnaturally wide as his hands moved to grip your shoulders. You flinched from the pain, but it was nothing compared to the devastation you felt when he yanked you into an embrace, molding your body together and holding you as if he would never let you go. 

“Oh, my love.”

Your throat felt tight, fighting back tears as you begged yourself not to give in. He said it again, voice softer yet full of possessiveness as you choked on a sob. 

Trembling hands came up and wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer, desperate for his warmth to engulf you, terrified at the relief you felt when he only squeezed you tighter.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere king #yandere king x concubine reader

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You're nursing a crush on Eddie from afar but you're from the dark side, he hates you doesn't he? So you begin to leave anonymous notes to Eddie complimenting him.

Gareth finds out...but so does Jason and he wants revenge.

Warnings; Secret admirer, angst, mention of the word slut, little bit of fluff.

This has been my brainrot for the last few days, enjoy 🫶💌

💌💞

You knew Eddie hated you. Being from the dark side as he put it, there was no doubt that you were public enemy number one in Eddie's eyes. Quietly you nursed a crush on him that only grew with each passing day.

No one knew who your crush was, only that you were pining for someone who didn't like you back.

"You could have anyone at this school, Tina snaps why do you insist on pining over some loser who doesn't give a shit about you?" You didn't know how to answer that, you didn't want just anyone, you wanted Eddie.

But you could never tell him. He would think it was a joke or some ploy concocted by Jason, so you were left with only daydreams and small hopes that one day Eddie might notice you.

Secretly you began to leave anonymous notes in his locker, just little compliments to brighten his day and watched from the sidelines as he discovered each one, at first he angrily disregarded them as a joke. Then he softened and a faint blush would creep up his cheeks as he read your words, a small smile on his face once he realised that they were genuine.

One day Gareth caught you putting the note in Eddie's locker, looked at you stunned and with a questioning gaze.

"It's been you all along" you nod, eyes filling with tears at the thought of Eddie finding out and hating you even more.

"Please don't tell him. He already hates everything about me and my friends," Gareth still gapes at you as you gather your things and rush away from the scene.

... 💌

Gareth struggled with hiding who Eddie's secret admirer was, now he knew it was you and you begging him not to tell Eddie he was in a bind. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information? On one hand Eddie was his friend and he couldn't keep secrets for him.

On the other hand, you seemed really sweet and obviously had been crushing on Eddie for a long time. He didn't know what to do, so he turned to Jeff for advice and swore him to secrecy.

It was completely unknown to him that a seething Jason had heard everything and was planning to teach you a lesson. How could you like that freak Munson? He shakes his head in disgust and formulated a plan.

He waits until no one is around and steals a few notes you left Eddie from Eddie's locker.

... 💌

There's immense chatter as you head into the school the next day, Chrissy is furiously arguing with Jason which surprises you. Chrissy rarely if ever got mad.

"Look, here's the star of the show now" Jason sneers and you frown confused and push your way to the crowd in front of your locker.

Humiliation seeps into your bones as you see your notes to Eddie spread across your locker. Hellfire Slut is written in red ink. Jason is now howling with laughter, others look sympathetic but don't move to help.

Chrissy pushes past everyone and helps gather up the notes while glaring daggers at Jason, you offer her a weak smile.

Tears pool down your cheeks but what makes matters worse is that Eddie is standing rigid a little bit away from the whole scene and gazing at the notes. He knows everything now and your misery deepens.

You flee once his eyes meet yours.

💌

Eddie can feel the slow burn of rage course through his veins. He didn't like violence, it reminded him too much of his old man but just this once he lets the anger wash over him at the image of your tearstained face.

He walks calmly over to a smug Jason who looks ready to make some stupid comments. Eddie doesn't give him a chance, he punches the douchebag right in his face and then sets off to find you.

For a while Eddie searches for you but concedes that you must have gone home. His knuckle is bruised and bleeding from hitting Carver but he doesn't regret it.

Eddie hopes he can find you tomorrow so he can get some answers from you, he was rapidly falling in love with his anon admirer and if it really was you, he wanted to know.

It surprises Eddie that the thought of you being his admirer doesn't bother him. You're part of the dark side but so obviously different to Jason and his goons, and he was falling for you hard through those notes. Maybe he could finally get to know you for real?

Later as he heads back to the trailer, Wayne tuts as he sees Eddie's bruised knuckles and sighs. "Was it at least worth it son?" Eddie doesn't even have to think twice as he replies.

"Yeah Uncle Wayne, it really was"

💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson blurb

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: You can run all you want, but Toji will always find you.

Story Warning: Stalker Ex-boyfriend Toji!!!, Threats of Violence, Shitty Date (literally), Smut, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Threats of Pregnancy omg, Possessive Behavior, No condoms we get plan b 'round here

Artist: Idk! But if you find out, let me know and I'll update my post

Your lips turn down in a frown, eyes widening as you swipe your mascara over your lashes one last time. You blink as you take in your appearance in your bathroom mirror for the last time, slipping your mascara wand back into the tube and twisting it tightly shut.

You have a date tonight.

The first one you’ve had since moving to Sendai from Tokyo. You met him at your new accounting job. He’s nice, a little boring for your usual taste, but he’s exactly what you needed to date. Someone your age. Someone with their life together, and someone who isn’t fucking crazy. And god did you need the not crazy part.

Your ex was an older man who seemed to have it all together when you first met. Things were easy with you two. He worked a job that required a lot of travel. He supposedly worked for the government, never asking questions because every answer was a stern “It’s confidential”. And that was fine. You didn’t need to know what he did for a living as long as he was good to you, and he was at first.

Two years of dating and everything was going well…save the bouts of jealousy and possessiveness your ex sometimes let slip. When he wasn’t making sure to watch your every move, monitor any man who spoke to you, he was fantastic. Loving. Doting. Funny…All of the things you wanted in a partner. It was just when his jealousy reared its ugly head, it became everyone’s problem.

He never hurt you physically, no. He would never. But that didn’t apply to anyone else within your vicinity.

It was flattering at first, how he’d lose his shit just at the sight of you with another man. But then it became too much. Breaking up with him didn’t work. He’d just show up wherever you were, telling you he loved you, that he can’t do this life without you, to give him another chance and he’d be better. And every new chance always ended the same. With some random man on the floor with a bloody nose after talking to you at the bar, your ex looming over him, jaw tight, nostrils flared with anger and you storming away.

You thought dating an older man was going to be different, that you wouldn’t be dealing with the same childish shit men your age would put you through. But apparently, age didn’t make a difference. At his prehistoric age, your ex proved that wasn’t the case.

He was never going to change.

No matter what you did, he was never going to leave you alone.

You soon realized your ex was more than jealous and possessive. He was downright insane. You remember what it was like every time you broke up, the vicious grin he would wear after ruining one of your nights out, chasing you down until you gave in to him…and then he was ruining you back at your apartment.

And you hated yourself for that. How easy it was for him to break down your walls with little effort. How easy it was for him to get you to forgive him. He didn’t have to do much. He just needed to show up, tell you sweet nothings and you were putty in his hands, opening the door to your life for him…And your legs.

It’s why you moved so far across the country. The further, the better. You’d blocked his number, packed up and didn’t even tell your closest friends where you were going. You needed a complete revamping of your life. Because you loved him too much to resist him if he ever showed up again.

With a sigh, you check your makeup and dress one last time before you head out. You’re going to the movies. It’s a simple date. Doesn’t require you to do too much, but you want to make a good impression. It’s your first date since moving to Sendai and you deserve to have a normal date for once. 

When you arrive at the theater, you’re immediately hit by the smell of butter and the sounds of kernels popping in the machines behind the concession stand. Your date is already waiting inside with popcorn and your tickets. He flashes you a bright smile, tells you you look beautiful tonight and you feel your cheeks warm beneath his gaze. It’s a little weird to be out with someone new, but isn’t that what you wanted?

He’s nice. Give him a chance.

The attendant checks your tickets and points you to your theater. You climb the stairs, glancing down at your ticket to ensure you’re on the correct row, right in the middle of the theater. The perfect view.

Your date sets the popcorn down between the two of you. “I heard this movie is really good.”

“Me too,” you nod, reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time as your date. You both smile shyly at each other when your fingers touch, grabbing a handful of popcorn just as the theater lights dim and the movie begins.

- - - - - -

The movie blares in the back of the theater, the music building to a crescendo as some action scene reaches its climax. But that’s not what the man at the top of the theater is watching as he shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No, there’s a much more interesting sight in front of him, right in the center of the theater.

You.

Who gives a fuck about the movie when he has a perfect view of you?

Well, of you and the fucker sitting a little too close, whispering in your ear any chance his gets and slipping his arm around your shoulder.

He wants to march down and kick your little friend in the head, splatter his brain across the floor. But he’s off the clock. A random body to clean up wouldn’t look good for him and it definitely wouldn’t increase his chances of getting back to you. And that’s the goal here. To get to you. So he has to be patient, like he has been all this time.

He could always barge into your new place and make you talk to him. He could always call your phone even though you blocked his number and changed phone providers. That’s lightwork for him, child’s play. And he wants to have some fun before he makes a move.

Emerald eyes watch in the darkness as your date leans into your ear to whisper something, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laugh. It almost makes him break his promise to bide his time, watching that man put his lips so close to your soft skin.

The skin he misses running his large hands over. The skin he misses kissing, running his tongue over. The skin he misses admiring after coating it with his own release. Fuck, he misses you more than anything. He’d damn near lost his mind after realizing you left Tokyo, up and gone in the middle of the night without so much as a word. Not even your friends knew where you’d gone. And he would know if they were lying. 

But now that he has you in front of him, he’s determined to never let you go.

Your date leans over to whisper once a-fucking-gain in your ear and his jaw tightens, teeth clenching so hard it makes his head throb. Your date stands, heading for the stairs, leaving you alone in the theater to watch the movie. There’s too many people around for him to approach you so soon. It’s not the right time, but he has an idea of what he could do until then.

The man in the back stands, casually following your date down the steps and out the theater door. Your date is an idiot, not even aware for a second that someone is behind him and closing in on him quickly. The easiest prey he’s had in awhile. Green eyes watch as he turns into the bathroom and he follows after silently.

Your date closes himself into the further stall, the largest and takes a seat on the toilet.

Even better. Out of sight.

The man doesn’t sense any other presence in the bathroom as he enters the stall next to your dates and stands atop the commode. He peers down boredly as your date sits, toying with his phone. Clearly he was going to be in here for awhile anyway, but now it may seem he won’t be returning.

“Got any good games on there?” The green eyed man asks, smirking when your date practically jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone with a loud crack.

“What the fuck, man?!” He shouts, face red with anger. “Get the fuck outta here, fucking freak!”

“I’ll cut to the chase.”

Your date fixes him with a look of confusion.

“Leave your date.”

Your date looks even more confused. The green eyed man rolls his eyes, sighing with annoyance. He grits his teeth. “Leave. Your. Date. Go home, forget you met her.”

Now your date’s red face has returned, his anger rolling off of his skin. “Fuck off! Get out of here or I’ll call security, you fucking weirdo!”

The man sighs again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tried to be nice. He really did. With ease, he hops over the wall of the bathroom stall, landing before your date, one foot smashing his phone into pieces. He digs the heel of his foot into the device for good measure, the sound of glass scratching the floor filling the space between them.

And then he’s leaning over, meeting your date at eye level, green eyes glaring into his wide and terrified ones. “Leave. Your. Date. Or you’ll be lucky to leave this bathroom with only your phone crushed in.”

He can see the way your date trembles, the sweat beginning to bead along his forehead and above his lip, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a loud gulp before he nods silently.

A large hand comes up to pat his cheek, tapping it lightly a few times. “Smart kid,” the man says before standing straight. “Don’t even think about calling security either or you won’t make it out of the theater in one piece.”

He turns, kicking the door to your date’s stall open before waltzing out and heading back toward the theater. He ascends the steps, bright eyes locked on your form as he squeezes past the other moviegoers on your row to get to you.

He takes the seat next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder and loving the feeling of you snuggling in closer. He leans over, lips pressed to your ear as he asks, “What’d I miss, sweetheart?” And he revels in the way your body tenses in his embrace, trying to pull back but he holds you to him.

“Toji –”

“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during the movie.” Toji reaches into the tub of popcorn you and your date were sharing, offering you some. You shake your head in refusal and Toji shrugs, shoving the handful into his mouth.

- - - - - -

The movie flies by, your stiff body held by Toji the remainder of the film. When the lights turn back on, he holds you there until all the other guests have dispersed. When the last guest is gone, he looks at you, a wide grin stretched along his face.

“Missed y–”

You shove his arm off of you, brushing past him and hurrying down the stairs. Angry would not be a strong enough word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Maybe irate. Enraged. Incensed. No, still not enough.

You push out of the theater doors, Toji hot on your trail. Your eyes scan the empty halls, seeing no signs of your date who you noticed after Toji’s arrival just happened to never come back from going to the bathroom and grabbing a quick drink. It’s like he vanished into thin fucking air.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Toji pleads, grabbing hold of your arm and you snatch yourself out of his hold.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Toji. What are you doing here?” You hiss and you hate the way his stupid pretty green eyes hold mirth in them. Like he’s enjoying that he’s made you mad. “What did you do?”

Toji’s smile widens more if that’s possible, the crescent scar on his lips only becoming more prominent. “What do you mean?” He asks innocently.

You shoot him a glare. “You know what I mean. What did you do to my date this time? Knock him out in the bathroom? Drown him in Dr. Pepper? Hang him upside down from the roof until all the blood rushed to his head and he died?”

Toji hadn’t even thought about the last two, but he takes mental notes…for research.

He shrugs, though. Because he didn’t do any of those things. “I didn’t touch him.”

You stare into his eyes, getting even more pissed because you know he’s being honest. “Then what did you do?”

He steps towards you, holding his hand out. “Nothing bad at all. Can you really blame me if your date’s a flake? Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”

You peer down at his hand, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm down the hall. You leave the building making a sharp turn around the corner towards your car. This dumb ass theater only has one entrance and exit which has to be a fire hazard, you think. To get to it, you have to go down one of the alleys down either side of the building.

Your feet carry you down the alley, Toji’s hurried steps rapidly catching up to you. His hand catches your wrist, turning you to look at him. You don’t pull away this time, knowing the more you push him away, the harder he’ll try to get closer.

“Hey. Hey, stop. Please,” he pleads and in the darkness of the alley, beneath the soft glow of the moon, his green eyes shine brightly. You have to close your eyes so you don’t immediately fall back into his hold. The second you look into his gaze, you know you’ll be his again. You shake your head.

“Toji, please. I left to get away from you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything, baby,” he says softly. “I just don’t understand why you’d leave without even saying anything.”

He genuinely sounds hurt. You do feel guilty, but you needed to do what was best for you and your life. Toji would ruin any chance you had at happiness with anyone else if given the chance. He would have never let you have a life in Tokyo, but here you were hundreds of miles away from the city…and he still won’t let you be happy if it’s not with him.

“You know why, Toji,” you breathe softly. “I can’t keep doing this jealousy thing with you. You just…get too crazy. Look at tonight.”

“Okay. That’s fair, but tonight, I really didn’t do anything. Your date broke his phone and I just…suggested he go hurry and get that fixed.”

Behind your closed eyelids, you roll your eyes because while that may be somewhat true, it’s not the whole truth and you know it.

“Still, Toji–”

He cuts you off, his other hand coming up to hold your cheek and you melt into his touch just like you knew you would. It’s annoying that literally closing yourself off to him does nothing because every part of Toji is your weak spot, crazy as he is.

You open your eyes to gaze up at him, those beautiful eyes of his peering into yours and you know you’re done for.

“I came all this way to see you, baby,” he rasped. “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

You did. Fuck, you did miss him. You know that makes you an idiot to miss his crazy ass. You ran away from your entire life, from everything you’d known to get away from him and now that he’s standing right in front of you, your body is reacting in a way you couldn’t resist even if you tried. You know you should move, step away from his hold, but you don’t. You can’t.

Weak. Don’t do it!

It feels like you have an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Your brain is screaming at you to not give in to Toji, to turn around and leave him standing alone in this alley. But your heart is screaming for your brain to shut the fuck up.

You nod, inhaling deeply before sighing, giving in because you always knew you would. “I missed you, too, Toji.”

You don’t know why you miss him. Is it the excitement that comes with being with someone like Toji? Is it the way he wants you and only you even to the point he’d practically kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe even actually kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe you’re just as crazy as Toji – but you’re his all the time.

A small smirk curls at the corner of Toji’s lips, his other hand releasing your wrist to cup your other cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Toji leans forward and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you, your head tilting up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.

“I might’ve threatened to crush your date's head in in the bathroom while he was taking a shit…” Toji confesses suddenly before he presses his mouth to yours.

This might’ve pissed you off before, but now, Toji’s confession goes straight to your core and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His hands tilt your head so he’s able to have more access to you, to take everything you have to offer like he always does.

The kiss heats up in no time. Toji grunts as your tongue tangles with his. Your hands come up to grab on to his shirt, tight as ever, bunching the fabric tightly in your fists. Toji steps back, guiding you to the wall of the alley, his kiss growing feverish, desperate. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips forward when he presses his hard body against yours.

Toji breaks the kiss, panting as he drinks in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips, that damn dress you’re wearing that’s keeping him from the rest of you. His fingers glide down the side of your face, along your neck and down your chest. They ghost over the swell of your breasts, over your nipples and he stops, running his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardening peaks, smiling to himself when your back arches off of the wall. He lets his hand continue their journey wandering down your form under he reaches the hem of your dress.

Then he feels his jealousy begin to crawl up his throat. He can’t help it when he thinks about you wearing this pretty dress for someone else.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, though the venom is dripping from the word. “You wear this for that fucker in the theater?”

Wide eyed and maybe a little dazed by the sudden change in attitude, you nod. Toji fists the hem of your dress, tugging the fabric gently.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you wore it for him?” He wants to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you gulp, heart thumping against your ribs. Not in panic, not in fear…but in excitement. “Yes, Toji. I wore it for him.”

Toji hums to himself…and then a loud shredding noise fills the empty space of the alleyway as Toji absolutely destroys the fabric of your dress. Heat pools in your core immediately, a soft gasp rushing past your lips. His hands come up to your waist, spinning you around. He presses his body against your back, your front pushing against the wall of the alley.

“So sweet of you to dress up for him,” Toji breathes as he leans down, running his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent. “Hope you had fun tonight.” His hands find the remnants of the hem of your dress and he pulls it up, bunching the fabric up at your waist. Then his hands are running along your body again, against your bare ass, brows lifting in surprise when he feels the thin line along your waist.

“Oh? A thong, too,” he hums, his voice sending chills up your spine. “Looks like you were planning on having fun tonight. Weren’t you?” You nod, but Toji clicks his tongue. “Words, baby.” 

You yelp quietly when Toji brings his large hand down on your exposed cheek. The loud smack echoes through the alley. “Yes,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, I was.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad your date left you then.” He tells you, and you can hear the fake pout coating his words.

Toji toys with the band of your thong before he hooks a finger into the band and easily rips the fabric of your underwear, too, and you think you’ll be lucky if you leave with even a single piece of clothing on after he’s done.

“I’m gonna touch you now. That okay?” He asks, because even through his jealousy, he’s a gentleman…sometimes.

“Yes, Toji.” 

Toji presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” He slips his fingers between your folds, hissing the moment he feels your slick coat his hand. “So damn wet for me already. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Toji, please,” you whimper when his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive nub. It’s enough to make your skin ignite with chills, but not enough to bring you even a little closer to the edge.

“I’m a little upset with you, you know?” Toji tells you casually. He slips one of his fingers into your cunt, grunting when your walls immediately squeeze down on him. “Fuck, you thought you could take this sweet little pussy and run away, huh?”

He pumps his finger in and out of your hole slowly, torturously. Your legs are trembling, hands pressed against the wall as you bite down on your lip to keep quiet. You’re in the open, getting fingerfucked in an alley. It would only take one person turning the corner for you to get caught literally with your pants down.

Your brows knit together as Toji keeps up his pace, leisurely adding another thick digit into your pussy. The coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every pump of his fingers, with every quiet squelch of your pussy.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like this,” Toji groans from behind you. “Wish this was my cock.” You whimper, pushing your hips back against his hand. “You want that, sweetheart?” He coos, curling his fingers into that spongy sweet spot that brings tears to your eyes. You gasp, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts, riding his hand. 

He continues, “Yeah? You want my cock to stretch this tight little pussy, huh? Want me to fill you up like I used to?”

“God, yes! Toji. Fucking fill me up, please, please,” you beg, reduced to a teary mess against the alley wall.

Toji chuckles, stopping his ministrations and you wait for him to start again, chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. When you feel his fingers leave your core, you damn near feel like sobbing. You hear his zipper come down, feel his cock springing against your ass and the stickiness of his precum smearing against your asscheeks.

He leans forward, a hand resting next to your head as he whispers into your ear, “You ready for me?” Then he pushes forward, his thick cock stretching you wide open for him. It burns in the most delicious way, but you still whine quietly. And it makes Toji pause.

“Tapping out already?” He chuckles, kissing the side of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, baby. How many times have we done this? You can take it, right?”

“I can take it, Toji,” you mewl softly. “I can take it.”

“Good girl.” Toji nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn your head on instinct, your mouths connecting as Toji pushes forward, his cock slowly filling you. You pant into his mouth as his length stretches you open him, makes you accommodate him until he bottoms out, a deep groan leaving him.

The weight of his cock stretching you is enough. The moment Toji hits your sweet spot, your walls convulse, your orgasm catching you off guard just as a couple of patrons are walking past the dark alley. Toji puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He doesn’t move…his gaze locked on the couple as they stand at the end of the alleyway talking to each other and laughing. They’re none the wiser to the way your pussy is clamping down so hard on his dick he could cry. It feels too good and he doesn’t have the patience to wait for them to fuck off. He’s been waiting. He’s done with that.

He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back, hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness and then he rolls his hips forward, hard. You cry out into his hand, eyes squeezed shut as Toji watches the couple from afar.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear, do you?” He taunts.

Them?

Your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision clearing enough to see a couple at the end of the alleyway. Right when you see them, Toji pulls back for a second time before he slams into you again over and over and over, grunting roughly into your ear as you both watch the couple at the end of the alleyway deep in conversation.

You pray they don’t come your way. You pray they turn around and go back the way they came…And some sick part of you prays Toji fucks you even harder because something about being so close to being caught has your arousal absolutely dripping down your thigh, coating Toji’s cock.

“You like this, huh?” Toji groans. “Hiding in plain sight, getting fucked like a slut? This is new for you.” He slams into you again, bottoms out into harder and harder, his hand squeezing down over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“This is why I love you so damn much,” he grunts, pressing his cock as far into you as possible before pulling back and doing it again. “You’re perfect for me, made for me.”

The couple at the end of the alley finally walks off, going the opposite way. The moment they’re out of sight, Toji releases your mouth, letting you cry out for him freely.

“Fuck, Toji!” You moan as he pounds into you with reckless abandon.

“Did you think…” he groans, hands coming down to squeeze your ass as he fucks into you. “There’s anywhere on this earth you could run to…” he’s panting, squeezing your ass so hard you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. “Where I wouldn’t find you?”

You’re keening into the open air now, taking every fucking harsh thrust Toji gives you. You press your forehead to the wall, feeling that familiar coil building up again, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re mine, fucking mine, sweetheart. I’ll always find you,” he grits, dragging his lips against your cheek, pressing possessive and wet kisses along your face and neck. “You could never run from me.”

He bottoms out again, his slick balls slapping hard against you, muttering, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fucking fill you up, put a fucking baby in there so you can never leave me again.”

There it is. The jealousy. The possessiveness. The craziness that you fucking love. And that’s all it takes for that coil to snap again. Your release crashes over you as you scream Toji’s name out, not caring who hears. He thrusts into you hard, fast, grunting, kissing your face sloppily until he pushes his cock into you as far as he can go. You feel him cum before he says he’s cumming, the warmth of his release filling your pussy, painting your pink walls white.

Toji buries his nose into your hair, trying to catch his breath as you both come down from your highs.

You’re an idiot. 

You tell yourself this as you come down from the high of your back to back orgasms. 

You’re an idiot…And maybe just as crazy as the man you ran away from in the first place.

Toji pulls out of you, tucks his cock away back into his pants and spins you back around. Toji places a wet kiss on your lips and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s go home.”

#toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #ayyypee answers #toji smut #toji drabbles #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #anime smut #anime x reader

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: I

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: In the spirit of Christmas hehe

Masterlist, Prologue

He didn’t believe that you were gone no matter what anyone said.

Everyone was saying the same thing. You were gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back. However, Min Yoongi didn’t like their answer and anyone who said that you had already passed on from this earth was met with his wrath that was communicated through his fists and weapons. No one could even tell him that he now couldn’t physically follow where you were. In his twisted mind, he thought that he could follow you because you never left this earth. Of course, he could follow. You did promise, after all, that you would never go somewhere where he couldn’t fucking follow. His angel would never lie to him, he thought. But your absence was saying otherwise. Your absence was too loud.

The days following the moment he opened his eyes and learned of your demise were bloody and dark. Everyone was on edge, and the traitors went to hell here on earth. They did wish they had died instead, but death was never quick when it came to them, nor was it painless. Min Yoongi made sure that they felt every ounce of pain he felt when you were taken away from him. His brothers could not even reason with the man. They didn’t know how to handle this Min Yoongi. It was as though he died there with you, and what was left of him was only his darkness. Agustd was already ruthless, but now he was just outright cruel, burning everything and everyone that crossed his path.

No one could even say their piece to him-well, all except Kim Seokjin. Despite Jin choosing the less violent life and despite him spending his days treating people in the hospital, no one could deny the power he naturally excluded. It was the power that was inherent to him when he was unfortunate enough to be born to a father that was the previous mafia king. Kim Seokjin may possessed the face of an angel, but he was the most dangerous of them all. It was just that he had a patience of a saint, and everyone fret the day someone snapped his patience. He was a dangerous, eccentric man. And he was a ticking time bomb in comparison to Taehyung who just kept on exploding without an end in sight. Min Yoongi, though, was known to be a reasonable man, his calm nature was never broken. It took losing you to break the calmness in him. The days after he woke up, he was seen back where he was the happiest. Day after day, Yoongi could be found there, leaning against the tree with cigarette in between his lips as he looked at the ruins of your house. The fire took everything from him. It was angry as it smoldered what once was his latibule to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Yoongi thought that the world was simply too cruel to him to strip away the only place he had of you. He couldn’t even smell you anymore, couldn’t even go to the place that was full of your presence.

How cruel was it to have you once and never again? How cruel was it for him to finally have found the warmth, to finally have basked in it for a moment too short, only for him to live in a winter forever after you? He would never admit to anyone that each time he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was the moment you fell as the bullet pierced your skin. So, he had not been sleeping well. If you were here, he thought, you would chase away all the demons in his head. If you were here, you would put your arms around him, rub your hands on his shoulder in a soothing way only you knew how, and you would silently tell him that everything would be okay, that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Yoongi couldn’t do anything. All he did was to go to the place where he found and lost you.

He was always there, Jimin noted. He made this place your temple, mural and shrine. However, never once did he visit where you were finally laid to rest. Never once did he even acknowledge your death. It was like not seeing it would make your death untrue. And so, day after day, hour after hour, the man could be found there as though he was waiting on a miracle, as though if he waited long enough then you would return, as though if he stayed long enough, you would walk back and smile at him, all while calling him a fool for looking too sad.

But you never did.  

And after a whole year, Min Yoongi never uttered your name again.

---

“Y-you’re supposed to be the good one! W-what is the Chief of Police doing here?!”

Yoongi watched in boredom as Jungkook pushed a man to kneel in front of him. The warehouse was quiet, well, save for the screaming of the traitors. The other brothers were busy with torturing the remaining traitors they kept alive. And today, he was faced with the last remaining traitor they had yet to kill. See, this asshole was so below the rank that he didn’t know that the Chief of Police was also the same Agustd, the leader of the mafia.

He was nothing, Yoongi thought. And yet, he was the one who blew up your house. He could almost laugh if he still knew how.  “T-the public will know! I’ll tell them that you’re the d-devil!”

Yoongi blew the smoke on his face emotionlessly, a strand of his dark hair falling on his face. “You’re not an intelligent man, are you?” he asked evenly before pulling the cigarette in between his lips and onto the idiot’s eyelid. He heeded his screams no mind as he removed his jacket with his badge on it. Someone from his right stepped in to carefully fold his jacket. Yoongi folded his sleeves to his elbows and without any warning, punched the man on his face.

The man proved to be an even greater fool as he laughed in false bravado, blood a stark contrast against his crooked teeth, “Is that all you can do? You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re a civil servant!”

“Is that so?” he asked in a conversational tone as he picked up a knife, putting it up over the light to inspect it before turning to the buffoon. “Which hand burned the house?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked at Jungkook and the latter manhandled the man near the table, flatting both his hand on it. “Which hand should I cut?” He walked nearer to them as though he had all the time in the world. “This one,” he stabbed the table, missing the man’s hand by a centimeter. “Or this one?” he repeated the action for the right hand, except that this time he intentionally stabbed the knife through his thumb, severely cutting it. “Oh no,” he said in a deadpanned voice before looking directly at him. “Guess my aim got bad.”

“W-who are y-you?!”

He smiled at him; his eyes remained emotionless. “Hi, I’m Agustd. Nice to meet you. So which hand?”

“N-No! No, please! I’ll give you what you want-“

Yoongi sighed, already losing his patience. “You do have to choose. We won’t stop until you only have one hand. Or do you want me to choose?”

“L-lef-“

Before the traitor could even finish sputtering what Yoongi deemed was bullshit, he buried the hilt of the knife into his hand. He didn’t even blink when he felt resistance from his bones, Yoongi merely kept on pushing, uncaring of the wailing man. He never stopped until he the knife finally touched the surface of the table.

And after that, he stabbed his hand again. He never ceased, not until the hand was completely mutilated. He never stopped, not even when the blood kept sputtering on his face from the man’s open wound, a stark contrast on his pale white complexion. He never stopped even when the man lost consciousness.

“He’s going to die, Yoongi,” Seokjin noted lightly from his seat. From outside looking in, he looked like a perfect image of peace, yet the hold he had on his phone was a telltale sign that he was far from pleased. He was not even phased by the violence around him, his focus merely on the whereabouts of his runaway sunshine. “I do not have the patience required to revive a dying man tonight.”

Yoongi paused, leering at the man who was slipping in and out of consciousness, before heeding his hyung’s statement. He did not want to test Jin’s patience tonight when it was apparent that he was barely holding on to his control.

He didn’t want to kill this man tonight. No. He planned on keeping him alive for years and years to come. He planned to give him hope, only for him to squash it away like he did his. As long as Yoongi shall live, then he shall suffer with him. As long as he was living in this fucked-up nightmare where you weren’t by his side, then so should he lived his very own crafted nightmare.

If he wasn’t happy, then why should anyone be?

---

“That phone looks like it wants to rest,” Jimin observed lightly as he and his hyung visited another crime scene that was definitely not because of them. It was three hours away from Seoul, the travel time giving him headache, similar to what Jimin was giving him. He watched as Yoongi ended the call before glaring at him.

“What about my phone, Jimin?”

“It looks like it wants to retire. Please, for the love of all that’s good, let me buy you a phone.”

“No.” It was the only thing he had of you.

“Whyyyyy do you love that phone so much, hyung? Our enemies would think our business is not doing good that you cannot even buy yourself a phone!”

Yoongi just shrugged his broad shoulders before walking out of the police line and through the busy market. He nodded at the policemen as they acknowledged him. His watchful eyes observed the chipper attitude of the marketgoers, chatting among themselves. He wondered how people could wake up this early and yet looked so alive. He hadn’t felt alive since that night. However, he thought that had you been here, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. He would wake up at an ungodly hour for you.

He could hear Jimin chatter beside him as they navigated their way out of the busy street when it happened. Until it all turned into a white noise when it happened.

When he saw you.

He halted his brisk walk, his eyes following as you walked away yet again from him.

 For a brief moment, he believed your eyes met. For a brief moment, he felt his heart beat again. Yet, your eyes seemed to hold no recognition for him as it only passed through him. You didn’t even stop. It was as though he was merely a stranger.

On the other hand, he thought that you looked different, but he knew in his dead heart that it was you.

Or was it his mind finally crumbling on him, reveling on his insanity?

He blinked once and you were gone.

Jimin, suffice to say, was shocked as his hyung ran back. He never saw him moved that fast, uncaring of the people who he would runover from his haste. His dark coat trailed behind him as he moved, a touch of desperation evident, compelling Jimin to reluctantly trail after him. Yoongi forcefully cleared a path, parting the crowd with determined strides. His singular focus was on reaching you, leaving his mind devoid of any other thoughts.

It was you, he was sure. It was his angel.

He was almost sure.

But when he reached where he saw you last, you weren’t there.

Jimin was breathless when he finally reached his hyung who was looking around the crowd like a lost child. His hands were on his waist as his desperate eyes searched for…who, exactly?

“What happened, hyu-“

“It was her, Jimin-ah. I saw her.”

He blinked, following his hyung’s shifting gaze. “Who?”

“My angel. She’s alive."

Latibule 2.II

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yandere agustd #yoongi x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

[halsteadlover]

Haunted

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by @lelaartt: So reader and Jay are engaged, her working as a nurse in the ICU. She gets followed by a stranger on her way home for couple of occasions (She doesn't tell anyone) as the stranger becames a main suspect in case that intelligence is dealing with. Jay completelly worried about her safety and she tells him about the stranger following her for couple of weeks.

• Warnings: stalking, cursing, blood, description of violence, brief mention of killing and rape. (Let me know if I missed something).

• Word count: 9530.

• A/N: I know this is a long ass fic and I’m so sorry please don’t come at me 😭. I’m kinda nervous because I really don’t vibe with the fic but I really hope it turned out okay. Let me know what you think and reblog, comment and like if you want. ❤️ thank you again for your support, forever grateful for it. Sending lots of love to you all xx

Your hospital shift was nothing short of exhausting.

That day there were three hospitalizations in the ICU due to a terrible accident that happened in the afternoon. Three patients, all of them brain dead. The ward was short-staffed and it was just you and another nurse, Amanda, on that shift so dealing with these three new patients, along with the other ones, was really exhausting.

After closing your locker, you removed the necklace where you hung the ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of your left hand, which you did at the end of each shift. You didn't want to risk losing it during work, you’d never forgive yourself for it so you just carried it around your neck during the shifts. You looked at it for a moment with a smile on your lips thinking back to the day Jay asked you to marry him.

You took your cell phone from the pocket of your uniform and, as you walked towards the exit, bag on your shoulders, you noticed various texts from Jay, the last one dating back to a couple of minutes prior.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:17 pm

Baby we're still dealing with a difficult case, I think I'll be late tonight. Please let me know when you get home. I love you endlessly. Be careful.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:55 pm

Baby? Are you okay?

From Fiancée 💍, 8.21 pm

Should I send a patrol to the hospital? You know I'll do it love.

You chuckled not doubting about that, you knew he would. Jay had always been very protective of you, which you wouldn't admit but loved it madly. You loved he cared about you, so much he’d leave everything and everyone to come to you if you asked him to.

From you, 8.27 pm

I'm sorry love, it's been a hard shift and I just picked up my cell phone. I'm going home now. How are you? When will you finish? You’ll come home soon, right?

You left the hospital and started walking home. It was late spring and the temperatures were finally starting to warm up a bit, allowing you to finally breathe fresh air. You really needed it after a whole day of smelling the hospital and disinfectants.

Your cell phone started ringing following a call.

“Hi baby! You really miss me that much, don’t you?” You begin, bringing your cell phone to your ear, a smile on your lips.

“I always miss you, you know that,” your fiancée answered on the other end of the phone. “Are you walking home?”.

“Yes, it's a beautiful evening and I felt like walking.”

Jay sighed. “Baby you know I don't like the idea of you walking alone in the dark, you could’ve taken a taxi or waited for me to pick you up.”

“Oh come on Jay, what’s gonna happen. I'll be home in twenty minutes,” you retorted “Where are you?”.

“I'm still in the district baby, I have to finish writing a case report and then I'm finally leaving,” you heard some noise in the background but you couldn't figure out what he was doing.

Jay continued to keep you company on the phone, refusing to leave you completely alone even though you'd insisted that he finish work so he'd get back to you soon.

You asked him about his day and he started telling you what he had done as you listened to him carefully, asking him a few questions from time to time when you didn't quite understand something. You bumped into a person and quickly mumbled an apology before walking on, quickly glancing at the man who reassured you not to worry.

“Everything okay baby?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I got distracted and bumped into a guy, no big deal. What were you saying?”.

Suddenly an unease feeling went through your body. You tried to let it go, thinking it was just a figment of your imagination.

You clasped your hand around your purse, quickly picking up your pace when you began to hear footsteps behind you.

They were so loud you seemed to hear them only a few feet away from you.

You turned around and stopped in your tracks, looking around for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of relief.

There was no one walking behind you.

Your heart was pounding and anxiety was eating up your stomach and you forgot for a moment you were on the phone with Jay.

Stay calm, you're just tired.

“Baby? You still there?” Jay's voice brought you back to reality. “Oh yeah, sorry, I couldn’t hear you anymore.” You answered. You didn't want to make him worry about your simple and stupid feeling, you knew if you told him you had the impression someone was following you he would’ve rushed to you and acted like the world was about to end.

You were sure it was just the fatigue speaking, but your senses remained alert until you got to your apartment. You took a shower while you waited for Jay to come back home, ordering food since you knew neither of you would feel like cooking.

You were about to lower the blinds in your bedroom window when, glancing outside, you noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk in front of you.

It was too dark for you to make out who it was and for a few moments you stood paralyzed, your eyes fixed on that dark figure, trying to figure out if it was just a hallucination.

The noise of the front door opening and closing made you jump in place, nearly giving you a heart attack.

You took your eyes off that figure for just a second.

Just for a moment.

And it was no longer there.

You ran your hands over your face in frustration, letting out a deep sigh at the same time before walking over to Jay, deciding you were going to ignore it and just needed a good night's sleep.

-

The following days went on quietly and the strange episode that happened a few nights before passed into oblivion. But that was before something else weird made your skin crawl.

“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to work babe?” Jay asked you as he planted numerous kisses on your lips, making you smile between them. It was morning and you were both in the doorway, your arms around his chest as you both struggled to pull away.

“I'm positive baby, just think about resting okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

He cupped his hands over your face, giving you one last long, sweet kiss on your lips. “I'll have dinner ready for you. You be careful. I love you so much.”

“I love you more.“

The day went on peacefully. You had to work a double shift in the hospital as the nurse on the afternoon shift was sick and had to take over her place.

You loved your job, you really did. There was nothing else you would’ve done in your life but sometimes you couldn't deny how difficult and tiring it was.

“Y/N, sweetie!” You heard the voice of your colleague, Becca, calling you from a patient’s room you'd just passed. You sighed, recognizing the tone she used when she needed something.

You took a few steps back, looking into the room and noticing Becca intent on changing the unconscious patient's dressing.

“Becca I was about to leave, why do you still want to torture me?” You whined and she rolled her eyes. “Please help me change these dressings. Pretty please, I can't wait to leave too.”

She put on the sweetest puppy face she was capable of and for the second time you sighed and rolled your eyes. You ended up disinfecting your hands, putting on a pair of gloves and helping her to change the patient’s dressings.

By the time you finished you were dead tired and couldn't wait to get back to Jay and sleep, you probably would’ve just run away if anyone else had asked you any other favor. For this reason, you practically flew out of the hospital after saying goodbye to your colleagues.

It was particularly cold that evening and you found yourself rubbing your hands on your arms in an attempt to get some warmth. Thank God you took the car that day.

You walked over to your car and grabbed the keys from your bag. Before unlocking it, you noticed an object resting on the windshield, held on it by the wiper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized it was a rose.

A black rose.

What the fuck?

There was no card attached to it, just the rose.

Your heartbeat began to accelerate and anxiety took over you. You tried to keep calm and not freak out since there was definitely an explanation why someone had to put a damn black rose on your car.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe it was for another person and they got mixed up with the cars.

Who the hell gives a black rose though?

Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you but you didn't notice anyone suspicious or anyone nearby watching you, before dropping the rose on the asphalt, trying not to think about it. There was definitely a mistake.

The car ride was strange.

You couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You kept looking in the rear view mirror to notice if there were any cars following you, you were probably just getting paranoid but you couldn't keep yourself calm.

When you parked in your usual spot once you got back home, that feeling of discomfort hadn't disappeared, on the contrary, it had increased.

The streetlights hadn't been turned on yet and it was dark enough outside so distinguishing objects or people was pretty hard.

After locking the car you were about to enter the apartment building when your gaze fell on the sidewalk in front of you.

You didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore there was someone standing, exactly in front of you and, despite the darkness, you were sure they were watching you.

You couldn't figure out who that person was, only that he was a man.

Your breath caught in your chest as you realized it was the same figure you'd spotted a few days earlier from your bedroom window.

The silence was almost deafening, making everything more frightening and suggestive.

Your muscles were paralyzed as your eyes seemed to be glued to that man.

Suddenly he moved and your heart almost stopped beating.

But when you saw him go away, that was the last thing you expected.

He did nothing, just walked away.

You tried to explain what was happening in your mind. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that man was there for another reason and you had nothing to do with it.

You let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding and quickly entered the apartment building, rushing to your home where you found Jay on the couch watching a show.

That rose left you with a feeling of anxiety that you couldn't get rid of easily, also caused by that figure you saw standing in front of you. You didn't immediately tell Jay, you didn't want to worry him since you already knew how he’d react and he’d worry to death and go crazy about it.

You just wanted to be sure that something’s happening before alarming him.

But, knowing you like the back of his hand, he immediately sensed there was something strange, that something was bothering you. You tried to convince him otherwise, that you were just awfully tired after working a double shift at the hospital.

“Baby, really, I'm fine. I'm just dead tired,” you said for the hundredth time since you'd set foot inside the house.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Did someone upset you? Did something happen at work?” He kept going, thumb and forefinger under your chin to keep your head up and make you look into his eyes. Your hands slid under his shirt, caressing his chest as you placed your lips on his, trying to distract him.

“No baby, nobody did anything. Seriously, nothing happened,” you muttered against his lips, “I just missed my fiancé like hell.” You bit his bottom lip and he hissed, his breathing suddenly heavy. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”.

“Fuck yeah,” Jay had said before crashing his mouth on yours and kissing your breath away. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth as his lips moved masterfully with yours. His hands went down your body and he bent slightly before reaching your thighs, pressing his fingers against your skin and urging you to jump into his arms.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck meanwhile he carried you to the bathroom, never letting go of you. As he kicked the door open, you found yourself completely lost in him, the rest of the world vanishing and all negative thoughts forgotten.

However this sensation of bliss was destined to vanish.

In the following days the feeling that was tormenting you didn’t disappear, instead it only got worse.

You started to sense someone was constantly following you and watching you, that every time you walked in the middle of the street there was someone behind you even if every time you turned around there was no one.

After finding that rose on your car, this kept happening and almost every night for two weeks a rose would appear on your windshield.

Jay knew something was wrong, you weren't acting normally anymore.

You were always jumpy, any sudden noise made you almost have a heart attack, even if you were cooking and he suddenly hugged you from behind you’d be scared to death.

Needless to say Jay asked you a million times what was going on, what was it that was bothering you so much but you didn't want to bother him. You didn't want to upset him, make him worry about some stupid feeling of yours, not when his work was already haunting him enough.

Maybe deep down you were hoping whoever was leaving you those roses would stop and eventually leave you alone.

One evening you went out with your friends, on one of your rare days off, to try to keep your mind occupied and to catch up with them since you didn't always have the opportunity because of your hectic job.

Between laughter, jokes, chatting and various cocktails, the evening went on normally and by 1:00 am each one of you went back home. You headed towards your car, parked not far from the bar where you had all met together, calm and happy for the first time in weeks.

However, this feeling of calmness faded the instant your gaze fell on a damn black rose sitting on your windshield, again.

A wave of anger took over you.

You were tired, so damn tired of this little game that whoever it was was playing against you.

Who the hell was this person? What the fuck did they want from you? Why were they targeting you?

Whoever that person was they following you, they knew what you were doing, who you were with, and it scared the shit out of you as well as infuriating you.

You tore all the petals off that rose that would haunt you forever before throwing it angrily on the asphalt and getting into the car. You started it and quickly drove away from there, intending to go home immediately.

You wanted Jay, you wanted your fiancée. You wanted to hug him, feeling safe again in his arms and forget about all that shit that was going on.

As soon as you got home, however, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay laying on the sofa, asleep. The TV was on and he had his cell phone resting on his stomach, holding it close in case you called him. A smile was born on your lips and for an instant all negative thoughts flew away as your attention focused on the sleeping figure on the couch.

You leaned towards him, leaving a sweet little kiss on his forehead, also gently stroking his hair with your left hand. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes at the same instant, looking around before looking at you, a sigh of relief to see you were back home safe and sound.

“I’m sorry I woke you up baby,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again “Let's go to bed so you can sleep again.”

He mumbled something you couldn’t catch and rubbed his eyes before flashing a smile that nearly made your knees buckle. He nodded and then stood up, stretching his arms before pulling you into a hug. “How are you my love? Did you have fun?”.

The memory of that rose returned to your mind but for some reason, seeing his eyes so red and tired, you decided not to worry him about it and you’d talk to him about it the following morning.

“Mmh,” you muttered nodding your head “I really had fun, we needed this girls night out even though I missed you a lot.”

He chuckled, placing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad darling, you deserved it since you’re working so hard lately. And I missed you so much more,” he kissed you again “Come on, let's go to sleep now.”

But that night you couldn't sleep given the thousands of thoughts that were going through your head. You couldn't help but think who would do something like that, what the hell those roses meant. Was there anyone who had it in for you? Did you do something to someone? Maybe an angry patient?

You thought again and again about who could be doing this but none occurred to you. Jay told you about his cases so many times you knew that whoever did this was doing it to torture you, to keep you on your toes, to make you live in fear.

And the fact they were succeeding was infuriating you.

Fear turned into pure terror when, while checking your cell phone, you noticed a text from an unknown number.

So pretty. Can’t wait to meet you.

How did they get your number?

You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn't notice it was morning and that Jay had woken up in the meantime. He literally jumped out of bed when you told him the time after he asked you, realizing he was late. You had the afternoon shift so you didn't have to worry about getting ready for quite a while longer.

“Baby can I talk to you about something?” You had asked him, not being able to hold it in anymore even though you knew you picked up the worst time to do it.

How smart were you for wanting to talk to him about something so delicate as he was hurring to get dressed and going to work? Not much.

“Can you tell me about it later? I'm so sorry, but I'm super late…” he replied frantically as he ran from one part of the room to another looking for the keys. He stopped for a moment in front of you, placing his hands on your face, analyzing your features. “Is it something important though? If…”

You shook his head, placing your hands on his chest and giving him a reassuring smile even if anxiety was making you nauseous. “No, it's not urgent baby. I'll tell you tonight. Now go.”

He smiled at you and made sure to leave you a long, sweet kiss on your lips before saying goodbye and literally flying out of the front door.

It could wait, right?

You tried to keep yourself busy all morning, cleaning every corner of your apartment and keeping your mind from the negative thoughts.

You couldn't deny the slightest noise made you jump, even when you accidentally dropped something on the floor. You hated this feeling, you hated having to be afraid in your own home, you hated whoever was doing this to you, you hated them so fucking much.

You nearly jumped for joy when you realized it was time to get ready for work, the thought that for few hours you'd be safe made you especially happy to go to the hospital.

You took a shower before quickly putting on your uniform and packing your bag. You checked that everything you needed was there, house and car keys and hospital locker keys, a bottle of water, tissues, tampons, some snacks, pepper spray and a small knife. Jay had forced you to carry them around constantly, asserting you could never be too safe and he’d be comfortable with the thought you had something to protect you in case of need, and never as then as then you were grateful to him.

Once you left the apartment, you made sure you locked the door at least three times. The anxiety that had been living with you for weeks was now gripping your stomach, forcing you to constantly look around and keeping you alert to any individual passing by you.

You forcefully clutched your purse to you, walking briskly to your car and unlocking before climbing in and locking yourself inside. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were even holding as your eyes continued to scan the perimeter for any type of threat.

Did you already mention how much you hated this?

“It's okay Y/N, it's okay, just take it easy,” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before putting on your seat belt and starting the car.

As you drove to the hospital you couldn't help but constantly look at the rear view mirror, almost as if you expected someone to be following you but they weren't, there was no car that you repeatedly noticed behind you.

Your cell phone started ringing and you took it from inside your bag, not taking your eyes off the road. Without even looking who it was, imagining for a moment it was Jay, you answered.

“Hello?”.

The smile on your lips instantly disappeared when instead of a voice you started to hear a heavy sigh, almost a pant.

“Hello?”.

You took the phone away from your ear and glanced at the screen, noting that it wasn't Jay, or anyone else you knew, but an unknown ID.

“Who is this?” You continued, hoping whoever it was would answer and maybe you'd recognize the voice. The person on the other end of the phone just kept sighing heavily, making your heart beat so hard you thought you were about to have a heart attack at any moment.

“What the fuck do you want from me?! Leave me alone!” You screamed, in the grip of fear, anxiety and anger that this person was forcing you to suffer. You closed the call and threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, not caring if it had bumped into something or was broken.

Your vision began to blur with tears fearing for your safety. They had your number. They knew where you lived. What kept them from taking you and killing you?

Your hands were shaking on the wheel as you parked at the hospital, palms sweaty. Your heart was still pounding and there wasn't a muscle in your body that didn't shake like your hands.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, not wanting to cause questions from colleagues about the reason of your emotional state.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears away, constantly telling yourself that everything was fine, that you'd be fine, that no one could hurt you in the hospital.

You never felt the need to have Jay with you like then. God you were stupid, so fucking stupid for not telling him about all of this before, for keeping everything inside you and hoping it’d eventually just go away, for underestimating what was happening. You were being stalked.

You texted him, telling him you'd arrived at the hospital and asking how his day was going, determined to tell him about the person who was stalking you as soon as you got off work.

You never thought you'd say it but you were never as glad you had a hard shift as you were that afternoon. Four patients arrived, one after suffering a stroke, two from a car accident and another after falling from the roof of his house.

The entire shift consisted of you and your colleagues running back and forth across the ward, treating patients, resuscitating them after one of them went into cardiac arrest twice. Your mind was focused on nothing but your patients and in treating them, everything else was left out of the hospital. You wouldn't let whoever was stalking you ruin your job, ever.

At the end of the shift there was no need to say you were dead tired and couldn't wait to go to sleep and although it was only 8:00 pm, the lack of sleep of the night before starting to take a toll on you.

As you placed your stethoscope in the locker and grabbed your bag, you removed your engagement ring from the chain around your neck and putted it on your finger. Your cell phone rang following a text notification and your heart skipped a beat for an instant.

The anxiety, which you managed to not to think about during the afternoon, returned stronger than ever to grip your stomach and for a moment you considered to throw the phone away.

But you thought it’d Jay and when you realized that it was indeed him, you breathed a sigh of relief. He said he'd be late that night because of a particularly difficult case and to let him know when you'd be done and went back home.

You tried to hide your sorrow, not wanting to be alone, especially in that situation.

You quickly typed a text back, asking him what he’d like for dinner, and put your cell phone in your bag. You said goodbye to your colleagues and walked towards the hospital exit.

You took a deep breath, praying to God to go home safe and sound.

Although spring had arrived it was particularly cold that evening due to the wind blowing and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.

You walked, actually, almost ran to your car.

Anxiety was eating you alive and your heart was pounding, fear flowing like a river through your veins.

After taking the keys from your bag and unlocked the car, you quickly looked around, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you saw no one was around you.

But suddenly the keys fell out of your hands as a slimy hand placed over your mouth and an arm around your hips.

Your bag fell to the ground as you began to squirm in an attempt to free yourself from whoever grabbed you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as the fear of dying made you fight like never before.

You screamed, your throat burning, even though because of the hand your scream came out muffled.

“Stop fighting it, it had to happen sooner or later, you knew it was going to happen sweetie,” A man's voice came hoarsely to your ears and you suppressed a gag.

You managed to hit his side with your elbow, hard enough to loosen his grip on you and you tried to push him away with all the strength you had in your body.

“You fucking whore!”.

You threw yourself to get the car keys on the asphalt but the man was faster than you and grabbed your arm, pressing his fingers into your skin with such force you were sure they’d leave a mark.

A searing, stinging pain radiated up your face as his fist hit you full-on, knocking you to the ground. You put your hands forward to try to cushion the fall, but it caused you scratches and minor lacerations on both your forearms.

“We're meant to be. I know you want it. I saw it.”

You glanced at him and almost fainted when after few seconds your recognized him.

You had already met him. He was the guy you bumped into two weeks ago.

What the fuck?!

He tried to grab your wrists but before forcing you to get up, you managed to kick him in his genital area, using all the strength you had in your body. A sound of pure pain escaped his mouth and he backed away, leaning forward and gripping the sore area with his hands.

You took advantage of that moment of weakness to get off the asphalt. You weren't going to let him hurt you, not anymore.

You grabbed his black hair in two fists and you didn't care about the damage you would’ve caused him, you didn't care you were a nurse, that you were supposed to be the one to treat people and not hurt them, but you kneed him in his face and the horrible noise his bones made, suggested you most likely broke his nose.

You pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way he grunted in pain and the blood pouring profusely from his nose, kicking him in the stomach with such force that even you were stunned.

You never fought in your entire life, never kicked anyone or punched someone, you hated the idea of hurting people but at that very moment your life was on the line and you had to protect yourself.

The man was laying on the asphalt grunting and muttering some curse word and you took advantage of it. You had to run away, that was your only chance.

You quickly grabbed your car keys and purse off the ground before opening the door and getting in. You locked yourself in before you started fumbling to get the vehicle going.

Your hands were shaking and your vision was still blurry from the punch he had thrown at you.

You gave him a quick look, terrified he’d get up and kill you on the spot.

You didn't know how but you managed to start the car and without even looking back you drove away from that parking lot. You knew you couldn't drive in those conditions but you just wanted to get away from that monster.

You didn't know where to go, you didn't want to go home, the terror of being attacked there would’ve killed you so you went to the place where there was the only person you wanted to see, the only one who could make you feel better, safe.

The journey to the district was awful.

Your body was driving but it was as if you were experiencing everything from the outside, as if your soul had left your body and was looking at you from afar.

You didn't know how you managed to drive and not run over anyone or crash yourself.

Your breathing was still quickening, your chest rose and fell as if you'd run a marathon, your trembling hands struggling to hold onto the steering wheel. Your vision was blurred due to copious tears flowing from your eyes and streaming down your face, not even realizing you were crying desperately.

Your face was in pain and you were sure a huge bruise would appear on your cheek, although you didn't care, grateful you were still alive, that you managed to escape.

When you arrived at the district, you didn’t care about parking your car properly, or to take your bag or lock it after getting off. You just wanted Jay.

A smile appeared on Sergeant Platt's face the moment she saw you walking up the stairs, but when she noticed the way you were running, it immediately disappeared.

“Oh my God Y/N!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you up close. Your face was streaked with tears, an expression of pure terror and fear contouring your features, your uniform stained with dust. She ran towards you, placing her hands on your arms. “What happened to you?” She took a look at your body looking for any other injury. “Oh dear. It's okay, whatever happened you're safe here.”

You kept breathing hard and your eyes were so full of tears you could barely see her.

“Shh it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down.”

She put her arm around your shoulders as she took your hand with her free one as a sign of support. She led you into one of the break rooms, making you sit on the couch and sitting next to you.

Her hand kept squeezing yours meanwhile the other stroked your back, trying to calm you down.

“Do you want some water?” She asked and you nodded, not being able to speak at the moment. Trudy got up and ran to get a bottle of water.

She handed it to you after opening the cap and it broke her heart to see the way you were shaking. “T-thanks,” you stammered, your chest shaking with sobs. “J-Jay.”

“I'm going to call him right away, don't move from here,” she said, seeing the way you needed him. She got up and ran upstairs, where Intelligence was still busy working on the case.

Everyone turned to the sergeant, who was at the top of the stairs with an expression that did not bode well. “Trudy, did something happen?” Voight asked as soon as he saw her but her gaze fell on Jay, who was standing by the whiteboard, arms folded across his chest.

“Jay… It's Y/N…” She spoke, saying nothing else. “She's downstairs now…”

Jay's eyes widened at the sergeant's words, his eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry and fear. He knew something was up, by the way Platt looked at him and a wave of anxiety hit him, his mind now focused only on you.

Without even letting her finish the sentence, he quickly moved away from the others, running down the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. Trudy followed him, giving no explanation to the rest of the team who just exchanged a worried look.

“Where's she?” he asked hurriedly and Trudy pointed him to the room you were in.

He burst into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting on the sofa but immediately worrying when he saw the state you were in. Trudy closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone and not giving any other cops a chance to snoop.

You had your elbows resting on your knees, your hands on your face as your leg bounced up and down almost obsessively.

“Baby!”.

His voice made you snap your head to him and before you knew it, you were rushing into his arms, squeezing yours around his torso with so much force you were almost afraid he’d disappear.

Jay was surprised for a moment but immediately returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you like he never did. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was he knew it was serious and that was enough to make his heart race.

“I'm here baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. You cried in his arms, with relief because he was finally there with you.

His heart sank as he heard you cry like that, feeling helpless like never before. You kept shaking and, without even knowing anything, Jay promised himself whoever had done this to you was a dead person.

“Baby you're making me worry to death. Please talk to me,” his voice coming out desperately. You broke away from his embrace, but still remained very close to him. “Darling, look at me. What happened?”.

His hands rested on your face and inevitably on the bruised cheek. You winched in pain and this didn't escape Jay, who was on the verge of losing his mind by then. “Y/N. Look at me,” he urged and you did as he said, lifting your head and making eye contact with him.

His breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on the clear purple bruise on your cheek.

“What the fuck? Y/N…” he stammered, an incredulous and horrified look on his face as he looked at you. He took his hand away from your wounded cheek, placing two fingers under your chin and turning your head to inspect it better. “Shit baby… What happened? Who did this to you?”.

His heart was pounding in his chest and as his eyes looked at every single inch of that bruise that lined your cheek, every single cell in his body lit up with rage. Seeing the desperation on your face, the look of pure terror with which you were looking at him, the way your eyes were so full of tears, Jay felt as if he had stabbed and someone had twisted the knife over and over again.

“I-I… H-he…” you stammered meaninglessly, sobbing between words clearly still unable to speak.

“Oh baby come here,” he hugged you again, this time even harder than he had before. “My beautiful princess. It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now do you hear me? You're safe.” He tried to comfort you “I'm here now, I'm here. You’re not alone anymore and I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe with me my love.”

“I-I was…” another sob “So… S-so scared…” you cried into his shirt, wetting it with your tears.

“I know, my baby, I know,” he whispered, placing lots of little kisses on your head. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, not to you. But you're safe now, I'm here with you, you’re safe with me.” He kept repeating to you.

You both sat on the couch and he continued to hug you indefinitely, holding you and cradling you in his arms until you calmed down. “Sorry,” you muttered, your voice weak as you pulled away from his embrace, gesturing at his tear-stained t-shirt.

“Don’t even say it,” he replied. He raised his hand and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ears as you kept your gaze on your hands. He was about to continue speaking when his eyes fell on the bruises on your arm, visible outside of your uniform.

His fingers lifted the sleeve to take a better look of the bruises on your skin. He immediately understood they were finger markers, a sign that someone had violently grabbed your arm.

“Oh darling,” he whispered, shattered at the sight of those horrible marks on your beautiful skin “What have they done to you?” His fingers caressed you gently, being careful not to hurt you further.

He was furious, like he had been a few other times in his life, and he still hadn't heard the story.

“Tell me what happened, please.”

You sighed and with still trembling voice, started talking. You told him about everything, about the roses, about the feeling of being followed, about the text, about the call and about the man who attacked you, the fact you already saw him for few seconds weeks prior, how he hit you and how you defended yourself.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me about it sooner?!” Jay snapped, when you finished speaking “This was never going to happen dammit! I would’ve killed that fucking son of a bitch.”

He leapt to his feet, running his hands over his face and pacing around the room. He didn't want to pick on you, it wasn't your fault and he knew it, but he was so damn angry, so angry you had to go through this, that he wasn't there to protect you.

His eyes landed on you noticing how yours quickly filled with tears again at his words and the tone of voice he used. “No, no, no baby, don't cry,” he rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to blame you. It's not your fault, please don't cry.”

His hands rested on your knees as you looked at him with sad, broken eyes, making his heart break over and over again. “You’re right I should have told you about it…”

“No, baby, don't get this into your head okay? It's not your fault, I’m so sorry for snapping like that I’m just so fucking furious for what that piece of shit did to you. It’s his fault, he hurt you and make you go through all of this. I hate you had to go through this alone and I wasn’t there to help you,” He sighed “I knew something wasn't right, I should have…” Jay stopped his eyes suddenly widening as you looked at him confused.

“Oh my god, that's… That's what you wanted to tell me this morning, isn't it?”. You didn't answer, effectively giving him the answer he needed.

Jay scrambled to his feet again, as if he'd just been given an electric shock. “Fuck!” He tried to keep control but you jumped as he kicked a chair in anger before placing his hands on the table and bowing his head, his back towards you.

“Jay…” you mumbled, standing up and walking towards him. You placed a hand on his back even though he didn't move from that position.

“It's my fault, this…” he choked on his own words “If I had stopped and listened to you this morning… Shit… It shouldn't have happened… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, no baby,” you interrupted him “Don't be hypocritical and tell me to not blame me and then do the same.”

He turned his head to you and it broke your heart to see his eyes full of tears. “I was late Y/N… I… This happened to you because I didn't stop for five fucking minutes to listen to you!”.

“Jay, listen to me,” you spoke to him softly. You lightly pulled his arm, causing him to straighten his back. You cupped your hands over his face, stroking his cheeks. “It's that crazy bastard's fault okay? Not yours, not mine.”

“If something happened to you… God…”

“No. Let's not do this. No ifs and buts. I'm here and I'm fine, I was scared shitless, I'm still scared shitless, but I'll be fine. You’re here with me and you’re all I need baby. These are just bruises and they'll be gone in a couple days,” you croaked “You should’ve seen how he looked then.”

He sighed before letting out a chuckle though the tears, hugging you for the third time, his hand stroking your hair. “We'll get him okay? And I'll fucking make him pay for what he did to you.”

You and Jay went upstairs, not wanting to let you disappear from his sight for even a second, after reassuring Trudy and telling her what had happened. Needless to say, she threatened to kill the bastard herself if Jay didn't. The way he answered told you that there was no need and that he’d certainly sort it out.

“I'll get you some ice for the bruise,” Kim had offered. The rest of the team didn't take it quite well either and Voight promised you they’d catch the bastard who hurt you. You and Jay had been together for a long time and you were part of the group now, an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them.

“Thank you,” you thanked her with a warm smile, placing the bag of ice on your face. The cold sent a rush of shivers up your spine.

“Come on baby, let's go in the break room,” Jay had said, his hand resting on your lower back. However, your gaze fell on the white board on which various photos and sentences were hung.

At first you didn't notice, but when your eyes saw a particular photo, you did a double take, stopping in your tracks and lowering the hand that was holding the ice.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Jay immediately asked alarmed, then following the direction of your gaze. “Oh. That's the case we're investigating.”

The photo just on the blackboard wasn't clear enough, it was a frame taken from a surveillance video but you could distinguish the features of the man it portrayed.

You stopped breathing for a second and your mind retraced in those brief moments your aggression, still fresh and imprinted in your memory.

“Y/N?” Jay pressed, worried about your reaction as his hand caressed your back.

“It-it… Jay…” you breathed out “It's him…”

“What?!” Jay's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and everyone in the unit couldn't mask their surprise.

“It was him… H-he attacked me… Oh god…”

Your hands start shaking again and you thanked that Jay was there to hold you or you would’ve probably collapsed on the floor.

Your eyes moved from that frame to the other hanging photos. There were four photos depicting four different women, more or less your age and similar in appearance to yours. Alongside these were other photos portraying instead what were unmistakably the victims’ bodies.

You were in complete shock.

What were the odds that the man stalking you was the same Jay was investigating on?

“C’mon let’s go,” Jay put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the break room and closing the door behind him.

You weren't even crying. You were just completely shocked.

“Jay… He…” you stammered as if you were having trouble coordinating your thoughts. He put both of his hands on your shoulders.

“Baby, just breathe okay? Do it with me, take a deep breath.”

You shook yourself out of his grip, now in a panic. How could you calm down?

“He was… He would’ve killed me Jay, like… Like those women… Holy shit…” you continued to babble. You couldn't believe it. You understood that bastard was to be locked up somewhere, but you never, ever imagined he was a serial killer, that he’d done that before to those poor women. What if you didn't fight? What if he managed to overpower you?

Jay closed his hands into a fist, pressing his nails into his palms in an attempt to let out even a tiny bit of the anger, rage and fear he was feeling at the moment.

He didn't even want to imagine it, the thought was enough to make him sick. He didn't want to imagine what could happen to you. He run the risk of losing you forever without even realizing it.

Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't there. He couldn't even pass the idea of not having you next to him, the pain from this thought alone was unbearable and it was enough to make his heart shatter to pieces. Damn it, he asked you to marry him, you were his fiancée, his soon to be wife, the future mother of his children. You had to start a family together, buy a bigger house to raise your children and you’d live and grow old together, forever.

He couldn't accept some son of a bitch threatened to take you away from him, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, the love of his life, his anchor and his salvation.

“What happened to those women?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Baby…”

“No Jay, please, just… Just tell me. What happened to them?”.

Jay took a deep breath, knowing that telling you would only make you feel worse. “No, love. Listen to me now,” he walked over to you, placing a hand on your healthy cheek and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Don't torture yourself like this, it won't do you any good to know, please trust me. You were so brave and you managed to knock out that son of a bitch and now you're here with me, safe, so just think about this okay? I beg you. I don't even want to think about what happened to those poor women, I don't want to think something like that could’ve happened to you and I don't want you to think about it either.”

He was right. You didn't want to know, sometimes it was better to live in the unknown.

“I'm so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as his fingers wiped away your tears with excruciating delicacy. “I would’ve died if anything had happened to you baby, I love you so, so fucking much. I couldn't have survived without you.”

“I love you so much Jay,” you too replied in a whisper before sharing a soft, sweet kiss, your nerves starting to finally calm down. “What happens now?”.

“You’ll stay here and we’ll continue to work non-stop until we catch that bastard.”

“Are you sure I can stay here?”.

“Is this even a question?” He looked at you as if you were an alien “Yes baby, of course you can. You have stay here. I need to know you're safe or I won't be able to think of anything else and I know nothing can happen to you if you’re here. If you need anything call me and I’ll be here okay? Try to get some rest, and put ice on your cheek.”

You nodded, knowing that even you wouldn't feel safe anywhere else but there in the district.

After sitting on the small sofa in the break room you eventually fell asleep, tired and worn out from the shift, the day's events and the lack of sleep from the previous night.

Jay and the rest of the team worked nonstop to try and locate the suspect whose name was still unknown. After learning you had hit his nose and you had probably broken it, they called the hospitals in the area and within a radius of about 20km – deducing he wouldn’t be so stupid to go to the hospital where you worked – with the hope that he’d go to get treated.

This hope turned out to be a reality when Kevin was told by a hospital just outside the city that there was a patient matching the description who was still there waiting to be treated for his broken nose.

When Jay went into the break room to warn you they'd found a lead, his heart skipping a beat seeing you asleep. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your arms folded across your abdomen as your chest slowly rose and fell.

A sad smile spread across his face as he approached you with silent steps, his chest tightening at the sight of that horrible bruise on your cheek. As his eyes roamed on your body, he then noticed some scratches on your forearms and his stomach dropped again for the thousand time that night. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to help you, for failing to realize sooner what was happening, allowing someone to hurt you, he was hating himself for not being there to protect you.

He decided not to wake you up and he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. He kissed your forehead, taking an extra second to savor the moment, grateful to still being able to do it.

“I love you so much my baby,” he whispered, “Everything will be okay, I promise you.”

After telling Trudy to stay by your side and never leave you alone, he headed towards the hospital where the suspect was supposed to be, his blood boiling with anger, his hands shaking with the frenzy of being able to have that son in his hands.

The stalker, however, after seeing the cops coming, didn't hesitate for a second to run away. Jay chased after him, determined not to let him get away.

“Chicago PD! Stop now!” Jay shouted as he quickly descended the emergency stairs and followed the man, skipping a few steps at a time in an attempt to reach him first. The fact the man was injured went to his advantage as Jay took the opportunity to jump on his back, causing both of them to fall heavily to the ground.

Jay's vision immediately blurred with anger.

He punched him in the face, using all the strength he had in his body to hurt him. “Son of a bitch!” He exclaimed through clenched teeth, punching him again and again. He didn't care about anything, he didn't care about the consequences there could be. He just wanted to see him suffer, to see him writhe in pain and fear, just the way you did.

“You made a fucking mistake tonight,” Jay spat, standing up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes before slamming him heavily against the wall. The man coughed, letting out sounds of pain even if Jay couldn't care less. “You'll wish you’d never met her when I'm done with you, you worthless piece of shit.”

He hit him in the face with another punch, not caring about the blood splattered on him after each blow.

He didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. Voight was there and watched the scene without batting an eyelid. He deserved it, he deserved everything Jay would do to him, not just for you but also for those poor women who weren’t lucky enough to survive. He knew there was no way to stop him, even if he wanted to, especially since you were involved.

Jay hit the man's head against the wall, then pushing him to the ground. He approached him and without any mercy and without even acknowledging the man's suffering, he kicked him in the stomach.

“Fuck…” the man murmured weakly.

“Look at me you son of a bitch!” Jay cursed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt again and punching him in the face. “You thought it was fucking fun to hurt my fiancée?!”.

Another strong punch.

“Answer me!” He shouted, knowing he’d not receive a response.

Jay had completely lost control.

His mind was only picturing your wounded and tear-stained face, your terrified expression, your eyes full of tears, the bruises on your arm, on your face, the scratches, the way you hugged him so tightly because of the terror you felt, the fear you must have felt in those weeks.

“You thought you’d get away with it huh?! Making my future wife's life a fucking hell?!” He growled again, kicking this time the man’s face. “Making her scared of her own fucking shadow?!”.

Another kick in the stomach.

He was about to kill him and he didn’t give a fuck.

He bent over the man who was then barely breathing. “Did you like putting your useless dirty hands on my girl, huh?” he hissed as his foot stepped on one of the man’s hand with so much force until he heard his screams and his bones cracking.

He didn't move anymore, now unconscious and covered in his own blood.

Voight intervened at that point, not even knowing if he was alive or not. “That's okay Jay, calm down now.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the unconscious man. Jay was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, his angry eyes still focused on the bastard lying on the ground.

“Now get away from here. Go out from the emergency exit and drive back to your fiancée, you were always there with her okay? I’m sure she needs you now.” Voight had ordered him but Jay didn't respond at first. “Halstead.”

At that point Jay focused his gaze on his boss and nodded feebly, casting one last glance at the stalker before walking away.

He wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief he had found in the car, trying to ignore the pain in his swelled hand, his knuckles red.

He never regretted what he did.

He had always condemned the brutal ways some cops used, like his own boss did sometimes, but in that moment he didn't stop to think about how he’d not hesitate even a second to do it again and make suffer anyone who’d hurt you.

When it came to you he’d lose his mind, his judgment clouded. You were the most important person in his life, the most precious of treasures, and he’d protect you with his own life if he could, if it meant keep you safe forever. It may have seemed an exaggeration, it may have seemed crazy, but he didn't care, God, he would’ve burn the entire city to the ground if it meant protecting you.

And as he drove to the district, eager to see you again, only one thought ran through his mind: how much he regretted not making that piece of shit suffer more.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes

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[blueparadis]

LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)

special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair

“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously. 

It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.

“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ” 

“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown. 

“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.

“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san—?”

“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”

“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that. 

The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.

“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.

“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.

“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”

“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”

“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily. 

“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”

You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out. 

Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.

You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort. 

Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner

#shiu kong x reader #shiu kong smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #anime smut #female reader #angelshub #x female reader #x female y/n #x fem!reader #jjk s2 spoilers #shiu kong #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jjk drabbles #smut drabble #smut #smut fanfiction #smut fic #anime x female reader #anime x you #anime fanfic #kong shiu #shiu kon #cw violence #cw exhibitionism

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐄𝖝𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗 | Teaser

When second chances are wasted, there's only one thing left to do.

Tags/Warnings: Dystopian AU, Werewolf AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Some fluff, romance but he's a bit weird about it pls let him cook he's awkward okay, Violence, crime and.. bad stuff.

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A/N: oh look another werewolf fic oops. BTW if you do not like any of the tags or the trailer doesnt vibe with you, don't read the story. I literally have tons of other content for you instead. Thanks.

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“Do you think that people can change?”

No. Jungkook does not believe that people have the ability to shed their dark desires once they've shown their ugly faces to the world. Once someone has lost control over themselves and their inner demons even just once, it’s over. A wolf's inner beast set free won’t be tamed again, by anyone. There is no coming back from that- and a crime committed has to be punished, especially when there’s not even any effort put into areas trying to redeem one’s self. second chances should always be valued highly if given-

Because everyone has to face judgement for their actions, and if those second chances are wasted, he is the man who will execute the fitting punishment.

Jungkook doesn't believe in second chances.

A man who’s laid his hand on his wife will never truly change his mind and put the shackles onto himself after the line has been crossed. A cheating spouse will not suddenly become loyal as a dog again just because they realize the hurt they’ve caused. A murderer can’t give back the life they’ve taken even if they desperately want to. A young wolf lost to a frenzy can’t gain back their sanity with the snap of a finger.

He is part of the new world’s law.

Violence is the punishment put on people who can’t seem to keep themselves in check even after second chances. Violence is the final answer to the worst of the worst, the people who will never change.

Violence is the thing that changes people- from being alive to no longer being a threat to anyone ever again.

To Jungkook, these people are like maggots, infesting the cities and homes of families who just want to exist and live. Jungkook is the pest control, he removes those insects, cleans out the infestations.

Saves potential victims.

“I didn’t do anything!” the man slurs a little, alcohol in his veins causing him to visibly struggle with his bodily functions, even if he wants to desperately be sober in this moment. You’re sitting in the corner still, watching, well aware not to interfere with a man sent by the people in charge of the wolf’s law to carry out the final judgement.

“Evasion. Armed robbery, twice. Domestic abuse, twice. Attempted kidnap of a child while intoxicated.” Jungkook lists, having memorized what this person is being accused of- or rather yet, has already been judged for in the past. “You’ve shown that you do not aim to change.” He says, not even looking at you once. Instead, he just walks closer, like a predator, staring down his prey. “And now, keeping an omega hostage? Not exactly the actions of a man innocent.”

“I-“ the man tries, but he doesn’t get far with his words. “-There’s- nothing happened- Tell him! Nothing happened, right-?” He asks you, who’s staring him down.

Jungkook looks at you as well now, awaiting your answer.

You’ve got a life in your hands.

Your lips part, but you can’t speak- when suddenly, the man moves again, lifts his hand as he steps towards you, ready to intimidate you into answering if needed- but Jungkook is faster, having seen enough. Even if nothing happened- yet- surely if he was to leave, you’d be another body found. “Where- where are you taking me?” the man begs to know, unable to really go against the hand that holds the back of his head by the hair, fingers tightly dug into the locks to have a secure hold on him as he drags him into a corner or the small, run down house.

In this moment, Jungkook looks like a different person to you. There’s no trace of the man who just wants to help others. The hands that force this stranger to his knees aren’t the same that helped you stand earlier that day, hold gentle and without any intention to hurt. Those eyes are dark as coal, like two black voids swallowing any reflection whole.

“I'll take you straight to hell, where you belong.” Jungkook simply answers the man, before he lets go-

And takes out his gun, to fire the first shot of many.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Escape Is Mandatory

platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.

Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)

A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"

Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.

This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.

"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."

He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."

"You sick son of a bitch—"

It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.

Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"

Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."

Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.

Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.

As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."

"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.

Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.

"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.

JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.

Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."

"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.

"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.

JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

2 days ago...

The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.

None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.

With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.

"She's married."

"She's unhappily married."

Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."

"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.

"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."

Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.

He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."

"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"

Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.

You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.

"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."

Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.

You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."

A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.

Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.

Your gears began turning.

Victims were awfully close to your build.

You're in your hometown.

And it clicked a second too late.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"

Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.

Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."

"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.

Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.

Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.

You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.

Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.

You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.

"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.

Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.

Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.

They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.

The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.

"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.

You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.

Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.

Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.

Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.

Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.

When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."

Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.

"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.

Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.

You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."

The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.

"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.

He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.

As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."

"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.

#ssa spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #criminalminds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x self insert #fem!reader #dr spencer reid #platonic #spencer x reader #spencerreid

[reareaotaku]

can we please get more Judd :((((((

Of course! I have really conflicting views about the show Big Mouth. Though NGL, I loved Human Resources So, this is going to be like a part 2 in a way [Part 1 Here & Part 3 Here]

He doesn't remember when he started to a crush on you, but it grew fast

And god he hated it so much. He wanted to stab these feelings and kill them

He bottled them for a long time and for a while it worked... Until it didn't

He would never admit he was jealous, but anyone could tell

One of those theater idiots decided to flirt with you and Judd wanted to bash the guy's head in with a brick

He doesn't but god he wants too

He introduces you to his raccoons

You think they're so cute and he [for a slight second] smiles a little, thinking you're adorable, but he shakes it off

He'll listen to your problems, even though he finds them annoying

You usually rant to him when you feel you can't talk to Leah about a certain topic or she's [Leah] not available

Though, you better not talk about a guy, because that doesn't go well

He'll give you advice on your problems, but it's usually something violent. Like saying you're having problems with your boss and Judd will tell you to just kick him down some stairs

^"Umm... I love your enthusiasm, but let's stay in the mindset of legal and morally acceptable advice"

It really isn't very good advice to you, because like I said, it's usually violence

Your father is a doctor and when you were getting something and you see Nick in the waiting room

"Nick?" He looks towards the voice, before his eyes widens and he awkwardly swishes around, "Hey, Y/n." "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" "I ate a weed gummy with my friend and I think I'm having a heart attack." You tilt your head at the freaked-out prepubescent boy. "Heart attack? I don't think you're having a heart attack, but you could be having a panic attack." "What the fuck is a panic attack?" Before you can answer, Judd jumps in asking what was going on. "What the hell are you doing here?" You both turn towards the male, who had his hand wrapped in some gauze. You pointed to it, "What happened to your hand?" "Raccoon accident." You decided not to question it and turned back towards Nick, "Are you okay, Nick?" "I don't know-" "What even happened to you, numbnuts?" Judd wanted to call his brother a dumbass, but he kept it to himself with you around. "I ate a weed gummy with Jessi and I think something's wrong with my heart." Judd rolls his eyes, "You're just stoned." "I didn't know that was a common thing when you were stoned." "It's not, he's just an idiot. Come on, you little pecker."

Judd feels like an idiot around you and it irrates the fuck out of him

He just wants to be himself, but he tones it down around you

Your parents don't like him

They think he's a future criminal and they're scared he'll either get you locked in jail, knocked up, or dead

And while he is Future Criminal, he would never get you in trouble

^ Leah thinks it's cute with how much her brother likes you

Judd is protective over you. If a guy is ever harassing you, something bad is going to happen to them and it may or may not be Judd's fault

If you ever want to be alone, especially at one of Leah's parties, just hang around him, because no one would dare approach you, especially if he has a hand around you or something

Nick uses you as a blackmail of sorts against Judd

"Well, I'll just let Y/n know that you're an asshole."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Y/n doesn't like assholes."

Judd roles his eyes, groaning, before gettting up and doing whatever Nick needs

If Judd says something stupid, Nick will ask you if you like the thing, annoying the fuck out of Judd

Leah thinks it's annoying that her brother's are always trying to steal you away from her or take away most of your time and attention

^ You're her friend not theirs

"You need to stay away from Y/n. She's my friend and you're a fucking loser."

#judd #judd x reader #judd birch x reader #judd birch #big mouth #big mouth x reader #yandere big mouth #yandere big mouth x reader #yandere judd birch #yandere judd #yandere judd birch x reader #judd birch imagines #yandere imagines

[thegnomelord]

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #dom male reader #ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x male reader #cod smut

[persevereforahappyending]

He Hung Up (3)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were vaguely aware of Sam yanking you away from the window, pushing you further into the apartment. Sam stood in front of you, looking you over concerned.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Death, Murder

Word Count: 4.6k+

Note: So, this story that was meant to be a one shot, then became a 3-part thing, has now turned into 4 parts.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

“Let’s play Monopoly!” You smiled excitedly, holding up the box in front of everyone.

Everyone groaned causing you to frown. “Babe, please, it’s been a long day,” Tara said as nice as she could.

You turned, pouting at your girlfriend, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. You knew she could never resist them for very long. You knew she was right, it had been a long day, you went over suspects, got attacked by Ghostface, took a small nap, and now it was nighttime, and everyone was still at the apartment.

“Ugh, fine,” Tara sighed. Everyone else simultaneously groaned, while you smiled wide, jumping up and down. “Only because you got injured trying to protect me.”

You nodded happily. You didn’t care why she agreed to play Monopoly, you were just happy to be playing it. Once Tara agreed, it wouldn’t be long before everyone else agreed.

“I hate Monopoly,” Ethan mumbled.

You paused in taking the lid off the box. You looked to Tara then to Ethan. “That’s exactly what Ghostface said,” you said, squinting at him.

“That’s because Monopoly sucks,” Sam interrupted, plopping herself down in the armchair.

“That’s also what Ghostface said.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

She leaned forward in her chair, glaring at you. You dropped her eyes back down to the box, quickly taking out the board and pieces, laying everything out on the coffee table. You had all the money separated, the properties organized, and all the pieces in the middle of the table for everyone to choose from.

Ethan reached out grabbing for the car piece. You quickly smacked his hand before he could touch it. You snatched up the car, bringing it close to your chest. “I’m always the car,” you said in a serious tone. “You can be the fucking thimble.” You tossed the thimble piece at Ethan who glared at you.

“I’ll be the dog,” Tara said, picking up the dog.

Sam grabbed the battleship, Chad the cannon, Anika the top had, Mindy the boot, and Quinn the iron.

“Whatever, I have econ anyway,” Ethan said. Setting the playing piece down. He shot up from the couch, threw is backpack over his shoulder and stormed out the door without another word.

“Maybe we should invite Danny over,” you said.

“Who’s Danny?” Chad asked.

You smirked lightly when you saw Sam tense at the question. You were the only one who truly knew about Sam’s secret rendezvous with him. You had walked in on them a few times making out in the lobby. For people who wanted to keep their relationship a secret they were quite terrible at it, always hooking up in public spaces where anyone could walk past and see them.

You weren’t going to tell anyone about the relationship though. You knew Sam had her reasons for wanting to keep it secret and you respected that. She would tell the others when she was ready. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t have your fun though. Seeing Sam tense up and glare at you every time she thought you were going to spill the beans was hilarious. You knew teasing Sam did you no favors and it just made her dislike you even more, but you couldn’t help it, she just made it so easy.

“Cute boy from next door,” you answered Chad.

“Yes!” Mindy shouted. “Maybe we can finally get Sam laid!”

Sam glared at Mindy. For once she looked more pissed off at someone that wasn’t you. You tried covering your laugh with a cough. You didn’t need Sam’s death glare back on you. She seemed too busy to catch your laugh though, threatening Mindy with just a glance. Mindy quickly looked anywhere else when she noticed Sam’s glare, leaning into Anika as she took a long sip of her drink.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind the eye candy,” Quinn commented. “I can see into his apartment from my room and let me tell you,” she met everyone’s gaze, smirking. You saw Sam tense slightly, but it wasn’t obvious unless you knew why. “The view does not disappoint. That boy is fine!” she said the last word through gritted teeth, adding a little growl.

You snorted. “Please,” you scoffed. “He may be hot but he’s a huge dork. He definitely wouldn’t complain about being the thimble.”

“Danny is not a dork,” Sam said quickly. Everyone turned, scrunching their brows at Sam. Her eyes widened; she didn’t look at any of her friends, instead choosing to find your gaze. You had a small smile tugging at your lips and just raised your eyebrows in question. She shook her head trying to appear nonchalant. “I mean he doesn’t seem like a dork.”

You openly burst out laughing at that. Sam went back to her usual glaring at you. You continued to ignore it, laughing so hard you fell into a coughing fit. Tara gently patted you on the back and handed you a cup of water. You took it, giving her a thankful nod. You sipped the water, calming down enough that your laugh turned into a silent chuckle.

You couldn’t believe Sam actually believed Danny wasn’t a dork. You knew love was blind but damn you didn’t think it was that blind. The man spent most of his nights ironing his t-shirts. They were freaking athletic type shirts too. That was like the one piece of clothing that never needed to be ironed and yet Danny did it, every night.

Sam had to of been into Danny for his looks at first because there was no way she fell for him by talking to him. Danny was adorable and awkward but couldn’t flirt to save his life. One of the times you had walked in on them in the lobby he was flirting with Sam, and she was giggling so maybe she just liked dorky guys, but you couldn’t help but snort when you heard his pickup line. It instantly caused Sam to glare at you. You were pretty sure the only reason she didn’t turn around and beat you with the mail in her hand was because Danny quickly grabbed it, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sure Danny would love to join,” you said, moving to pull out your phone. “I’ll text him.”

“No!” Sam said quickly. Her saying no didn’t come as a surprise to the others, they were used to hearing Sam say no. You, however, knew this no was different than all the other noes.

“Can we just get this over with?” Tara sighed. You turned to her, mouth hanging open at how she could say something so dismissive about your favorite game. “Babe, I’ve already agreed to play. What more do you want?”

You turned back to the board pouting and grumbling under your breath. You finished setting the board up and then passed out each person's money. You were going to be the banker, but Sam snatched the little plastic tray from you. You raised your hands in defense before peacefully handing her over the property cards. She may hate monopoly but clearly, she was still enough of a control freak to need to be in charge of the pretend money.

You guys had been playing for a few hours and despite their dislike for the game everyone seemed to be having a good time. Sam had ordered a pizza and barely anyone had wanted to get up from the game to go answer the door. Everyone continued to sit around the coffee table, eating pizza with one hand while rolling the dice with the other.

Everyone owned a few properties. You and Sam were the only ones who had all of certain colors and had even started to build a few houses. Tara just rolled, landing on one of your said properties with two houses on it. She pouted, batting her long lashes at you. You smiled sweetly at her; you loved those eyes. You leaned over giving her a soft kiss.

“Pay up,” you whispered against her lips.

She frowned, pushing your shoulder. You broke out into a laugh which caused her to lightly smack you in the stomach. She grumbled about how she couldn’t believe her own girlfriend was actually making her pay. You smirked as she handed you the money, her throwing a glare at you before crossing her arms and leaning back into the couch with a pout. You sat there flipping through the money, making sure it was all there. You may love her but even she didn’t get a pass when it came to Monopoly, you were ruthless to anyone who landed on your property.

After a few more hours it was down to just you, Sam, and Chad. Everyone else had gone broke and had to sell off their properties to either you or Sam but even after getting money from you guys, they quickly lost it again. It was mainly down to you and Sam; Chad was just lucky to still be in it. He had spent a lot of time in jail and owned a couple railroads, the only things keeping him afloat.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Chad sighed, reaching up to stretch out his back. You and Sam both swung your heads, glaring at him. He stopped mid-stretch, slowly bringing his hands down. “It was just a suggestion,” he raised his hands in defense.

“You just don’t want to lose,” Sam snapped.

“You’re just trying to avoid the inevitable,” you said at the same time.

Sam may hate monopoly and may have been complaining about how long it took at the start, but she was just as competitive as you. You guys had been playing all night and the game was almost over. The idea of quitting now was unfathomable to both of you. How could either of you quit when the end was just in sight.

“It’s after midnight,” he pointed to the clock underneath the TV.

You and Sam both turned to the clock, seeing that it was in fact after midnight, it was approaching two. Anika and Mindy were cuddled up, sleeping on the couch and Quinn had retreated to her room once she lost the game. You glanced to your left and saw Tara sound asleep, curling herself as close as she could get to you. You smiled down softly at her; you hadn’t even realized she dozed off. You and Sam both turned to each other, sitting straighter and narrowing your eyes at each other.

“He makes a point,” Sam said.

“Agreed,” you said.

The two of you kept narrowing your eyes more and more at each other. You weren’t going to forfeit, and you knew Sam certainly wasn’t going to either. You two were at an impasse. You were certain the two of you could knock Chad out of the game in like twenty minutes, but you and Sam were pretty evenly matched, both had solid stacks of money still, close to the same amount of property, and for what one had in property the other made up for in houses.

“Pause until the morning?” Sam asked.

“Okay,” you said slowly.

You two watched each other for another minute before Sam gently set the dice down in the middle of the board.

“Alright,” she said loudly, clapping her hands as she stood up. “Time for bed.” Tara, Mindy, and Anika all jumped awake. “I’ll grab the spare blankets and pillows.”

“We don’t have to stay,” Chad said.

“Yes, you do.” Sam came back into the room with a few pillows and blankets. “It’s late and there’s a psycho after us, again. I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“Ready for bed?” you whispered to Tara who had sat up but was currently resting her head on your shoulder, wrapping her arm around yours in an iron grip.

She mumbled sleepily and you stood up slowly, bringing her with you. She stumbled on her feet for a second, choosing to keep her eyes closed so she didn’t fully wake herself up. You moved around the table, gently pulling Tara with you, making sure she didn’t bump into anything.

“Hey, wait,” Anika called out, just as you and Tara were about to pass through the kitchen to her room.

You turned, seeing Anika unmute the TV. It was another news broadcast. Your breath caught thinking there might have been another murder, but you were relieved because everyone you cared about was currently safe in the apartment with you. The reporter started speaking, though it wasn’t about another murder, that should’ve made you happy, no one else was dead yet. It didn’t, however, the reporter might not have been talking about a new murder, but he was going on about how Sam was the top suspect.

You didn’t know where the hell those guys got their info from. Sam didn’t do anything wrong. She wasn’t behind the Woodsboro murders last year and she wasn’t behind the current one’s going on. There was absolutely no evidence pointing Sam to any of the murders, she was the victim. People just couldn’t get over the fact that her dad was a serial killer. You didn’t see why that was such a focal point, plenty of serial killers had kids and most of those kids didn’t turn out to be psychos like their parent.

You felt Tara push off from your side. It seemed that the news report had made her wide awake. She moved to the dining room table where Sam sat. You turned away, choosing to pretend to watch the news, you didn’t want to impose on their sister moment. Chad and Mindy quickly joined the sisters, comforting Sam. You smiled softly to yourself at hearing Chad deem them the core four again and say how they were a family.

Sam took the opportunity to mention her hook ups with Danny. The other three cheered and high fived. You had told Sam she wasn’t very subtle; she hadn’t believed you. Turns out you had been right since everyone had suspected them. You took that as your opportunity to slide into the chair next to Tara and join.

“I told you so,” you said, smirking at Sam.

She rolled her eyes, glaring at you before flipping you off. Her reaction only made you laugh more.

“You knew!” Tara screeched, slapping your arm. You yelped in pain. She had managed to smack right where the cut on your arm was. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry.”

“I think I need a kiss,” you said, looking at her with sad eyes. “You know, for the pain.”

She rolled up your t-shirt sleeve, placing a delicate kiss just above the bandage. She then looked up at you, leaning in and giving your lips just as soft of a kiss.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

You could hear the worry in her voice. You knew she didn’t mean to hit the cut. You all had been having so much fun playing Monopoly then picking on Sam. It was kind of easy to forget you had just been attacked. If it wasn’t for the fact that your bicep burned every time you moved it, then you were sure you would have forgotten about the cut as well.

“All better,” you whispered back to her. Placing another quick kiss on her lips.

You swung your injured arm around her back and pulled her into your side. She instantly laid her head on your shoulder. “I can’t believe you knew,” she said again.

“Please, they were so obvious,” you said. Sam threw her hands in the air, leaning her head back as she let out a long groan. “I caught them in the lobby so many times. I’m surprised none of you ever saw them.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Tara looked up at you with that adorable pout she used when she specifically wanted to make you feel guilty about something. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other?”

“Wasn’t my secret to tell love.” You smirked down at her, she just rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to her sister and friends.

Sam’s phone started ringing with Danny’s picture popping up. Tara quickly leaned out of your grasp, snatching the phone from Sam’s hands. She held Sam back with one arm while she used the other to bring the phone to her ear, pretending to talk to Danny.

Sam eventually got the phone back from Tara, choosing to ignore Danny, saying she’d call him back. You knew that was a smart decision for her because if she had answered she would be throwing Danny to the wolves with all of you around. There was no way you or any of the others wouldn’t have ripped that phone back out of her hands and given Danny shit for all the sneaking around.

A few seconds later after everyone’s laughter had died down, everyone’s phone went off at the same time. You turned back seeing Anika reaching for her phone on the coffee table, she had also gotten a text. You all opened the message at the same time, seeing a picture of Ghostface in Quinn’s room, holding her against himself as he was about to bring a knife down into her stomach.

Everyone shot to their feet at the same time. Tara ran towards the bedroom door. You were quick to yank her back by the arm before she could reach the handle, pushing her behind you, towards Chad. Everyone stood frozen, hearing Quinn’s scream and stuff crashing around before everything went silent.

“Run,” Mindy whispered.

The door to Quinn’s room flung open. Quinn’s body came flying out, crashing into Anika, knocking her to the ground. You saw Chad keep hold of Tara’s arm, dragging her out of the apartment with him.

You were about to follow after them when Ghostface jumped in your path, sliding into the door so it slammed shut. He stood between you and the door, swiping his knife at you. You jumped back dodging each of the swipes.

Sam ran into the kitchen, searching for a knife or weapon of some kind. Ghostface moved to follow but you charged at him. He pushed you back with one arm while the other came around, trying to stab you in the side. You turned to the side, the knife just missing you.

Ghostface stomped forward, grabbing Mindy by the shoulder the plunging the knife into her side. Anika, still on the floor, grabbed Ghostface’s ankles, trying to trip him up and get him to release Mindy. Ghostface crashed to the floor. You took the opportunity and pulled Mindy behind you. Ghostface turned crawling on top of Anika before stabbing her in her side, choking her with his other hand as he did so.

You grabbed him by the cloak, intending to yank him off of her. When he got to his feet again, he spun around, swinging his knife. You barely dodged it again, somehow managing to keep a grip on his shoulder as well. He pushed you back until your back was against the wall. You each had a grip on each other’s shoulders, you trying to keep him as far away from you as possible, while he tried to use his grip to pull himself closer.

He gripped his knife tightly, bringing it up, aiming for your chest this time. You used your other hands to catch his arm with the knife as it started to come down.

“Sam!” you shouted.

“All the knives are gone!” she yelled back.

“Sam!” your grip slipped, the knife coming closer to your chest before you tightened your grip again. “Sam!”

Sam didn’t answer you; she ran out of the kitchen with the wooden block that usually held all the knives, smashing it into Ghostface’s head. You pushed him off you while he was disoriented.

Sam grabbed Mindy while you got Anika and ran through the apartment into Quinn’s room. As quickly and gently as you could you sat Anika on the bed. Sam pushed Mindy towards the bed before turning and locking the bedroom door just as Ghostface appeared, banging on the door.

“Bathroom,” Sam whispered, nodding to you as she moved a desk in front of the door. You ran towards the bathroom, nearly tripping on the mess of clothes and blood on the floor. You passed through the bathroom, seeing one of Quinn’s hookups lying in his own pool of blood in the tub. You got to the door, the same time as Ghostface did. You tried slamming the door on his foot, but he slammed his body into the door, pushing his way through.

You quickly abandoned the door, running back to the bedroom to get that door. You turned to close the door, with Ghostface right behind you. You almost had it, but Ghostface got his arm through, slashing blindly at you. Sam quickly joined you, helping you hold the door until Ghostface yanked his arm back. With the door firmly shut you and Sam moved the dresser in front of it.

“Hey,” you nodded towards the window where you could see Danny waving his arms from his apartment.

Sam ran across the room, opening the window. “I don’t know what to do!” she shouted at him.

“I got you,” you heard him yell back.

“Are you serious?” you heard Sam ask before seeing part of a ladder come through the window.

“Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumbled. “Is he serious?” Sam shrugged. Ghostface slammed into the door, causing the dresser to move. You braced yourself against the dresser, trying to get better footing to hold it in place. “Go!” you waved her to go out the window.

Sam looked back at you hesitantly then Mindy and Anika.

“Go,” Mindy said. She was holding a hand to her own wound while also trying to comfort her girlfriend. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Sam nodded, eventually making her way out the window and across the ladder. You heard her shout for the next person.

“Go,” Mindy said, nodding at you.

“Like hell,” you said, struggling against the dresser as Ghostface remained relentless. “I got this,” you nodded back at the door. “Go.” You did not think you actually had it, but you needed Mindy to get across the ladder.

Mindy sighed, giving Anika one final kiss before she made her way across the ladder. You closed your eyes, focusing on using all your strength to hold the dresser against the door. You didn’t open your eyes again until you heard Sam call for who was next.

“Anika, go,” you said.

“I can’t,” she cried, shaking her head.

“You have to. Please, I need to hold the door.”

“Nonononono.

“Anika, please,” you tried pleading with her.

“Y/N just go, I’ll be right behind you.”

“No.”

“Y/N, go.”

Anika stumbled over towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door and towards the window. The two of you stood at the window, seeing the others safely on the other side in Danny’s apartment. You leaned your head out the window, looking down at the ground, it was one hell of a drop. You were seriously hating the fact that Sam chose an apartment on the top floor. Tara had told you Sam had only searched for apartments on top floors, she had said it would make them safer, she had also only looked at buildings with stairs. You understood it, you truly did, but also damn her paranoia.

“Go,” Anika cried again.

“Come on!” Sam shouted. “You got to move.”

“Anika,” you tried again.

“Go!” she shouted, for the first time since you met her, you could hear anger in her voice. “Please, go. I’ll be right behind you,” she assured you again, her voice back to being soft.

You reluctantly nodded, climbing out of the window and onto the ladder. You were never one to be afraid of heights but something about climbing from one apartment to another across an unstable ladder at least twenty feet in the air while a psycho tried to kill you was absolutely terrifying. You stared straight ahead, focusing on Sam and the safety of Danny’s apartment. Your breath caught in your throat with every shift of the ladder underneath you. Before you knew it, you were at the other side and Danny was pulling you through the window.

You instantly joined Sam and Mindy at the window, calling Anika over. It took a lot of coaxing, but Anika finally got on the ladder, slowly making her way over to you guys. She was in the middle of the ladder when your eyes widened at the sight behind her. Ghostface had gotten into the room and now he stood at the window, he impaled his knife in the windowsill before grabbing the ladder.

“Wha-what?” Anika whimpered.

All of you started shouting at her to hurry, encouraging her as best as you could while trying not to panic her even more than she already was. Anika glanced behind her, catching the sight of Ghostface, she began sobbing, shaking her head that she couldn’t do it. Mindy kept encouraging her, telling her she would be fine, and they were all right there waiting for her. She slowly started moving again when Ghostface lifted the ladder, shaking and rattling it, doing everything in his strength to get her to fall.

Anika was almost there. You and Sam both had your arms stretched out, trying to grab hold of her. Her fingers kept grazing against Sam’s, but Sam couldn’t get a good grip on her. With one final toss Anika went over the side of the ladder.

You reached out, stretching half your body out of the window but you managed to grab her, gripping onto her forearm. You held onto the windowsill with your other hand, trying to keep yourself steady as you held her up. Your arm was burning, you could feel your stitches ripping at the strain being put on your arm. Mindy and Danny held onto you trying to make sure you didn’t go out the window as well. Sam leaned over, trying to reach for Anika to help pull her in.

Anika’s grip slipped, her hand sliding down your arm before latching onto your hand. You groaned, gritting your teeth. You caught the slight sight of blood dripping down your arm out of the side of your eye from where your stitches had certainly fully come out.

“I got you,” you said through gritted teeth, looking Anika in the eye. “I got you.”

Her hands were so slick from her own blood, she started to slip out of your grasp again. You tightened your grip as best as you could. It wasn’t any use, her hand slipped, and you were only holding her by your fingertips. You saw her eyes widen with fear at the realization of what was about to happen. Your fingers gave out and you watched as she fell.

You saw her mouth open; you didn’t hear her scream though. You weren’t sure if you screamed. Everything was so quiet. Your eyes never left her. Your eyes never left her body as she smacked into a dumpster then fell onto the pavement.            

You were vaguely aware of Sam yanking you away from the window, pushing you further into the apartment. Sam stood in front of you, looking you over concerned. Her mouth was moving but you didn’t hear any of the words she was saying. You let Anika fall. Anika was dead. You had her in your grasp and you weren’t strong enough. She literally slipped through your fingers. It was all your fault.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #he hung up

[stylesharrys]

reason to stay [mafiarry]

summary: you come across a little something that harry’s been keeping from you.

warnings: mentions of the mafia, descriptions of a gun and violence, swearing

word count: 2,819

a/n: wow, it's been a hot fuckin' minute since I did mob!harry but hey, here it is!! next couple of weeks you guys will also be getting a new mob!harry series, so keep your eyes peeled!!

//

He knows the rules by now. Head down, shoulders high. Let them know you by a name, never by yours.

Harry thought he was slick enough to pull that over your head, too. He should’ve known better. He can’t live two separate lives, can’t keep you in the dark from the main life he lives. He can’t have you believing this fantasy forever.

But you knew, you knew since the beginning something was wrong – there was something he wasn’t telling you.

All the “security” he has to follow you when you want to go out without him, the personal driver, and the random stop-ins from three “friends” in particular. And if that wasn’t enough, the constant phone calls and change of phone numbers were enough to make anyone suspicious.

You trusted him, and never really had a reason not to. You’ve known Harry for years, as far back as you can remember. Even then, he was slightly shady, never giving much information about himself willingly.

But things are different now. You’re moved into his home, riding in his cars. Harry knows your every move, claims there are too many bad people out there, and that he could never live with himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t get to you in time.

Now, staring at the wad of cash that’s been stuffed into the hollow wood of the foot of the bed, all of your suspicions are confirmed. Not a doubt in your mind when your eyes catch glimpse of the silver barrel of a gun peeking from beneath the money.

There’s at least five grand there alone; tied together with elastic bands, and a separate wad wrapped with your hair tie.

From what you’re aware of, it’s not typical of a hotel owner to stash cash and a handgun in the foot of his bed.

You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. Harry has a safe just six feet away in the back of the closet. You know why the gun’s in the foot of the bed – easy access, just in case anything happens.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t quite tell if it’s your gut telling you to run, or simply confirming that you were always right – you always knew there was something else deep down.

Harry’s not supposed to be home for another hour, you don’t know what to do with yourself in the time between.

Do you wait at the table for him when he gets home? Sitting there with the gun and cash laid out with your hands crossed? Do you put everything back and leave the top of the foot of the bed slightly out of place, so he knows that you know?

Or do you just pretend you didn’t see a damn thing?

You can’t live your life in a relationship with someone who keeps an entire lifestyle a secret from you. You can’t be engaged to a man you barely even know.

Harry can’t seriously have thought you wouldn’t find out, right? That someone somehowwouldn’t accidentally split up, or you wouldn’t start asking questions or start snooping for answers?

Because you weren’t snooping – not exactly.

An accidental knock at the foot of the bed when changing the sheets is what uncovered the truth. How pathetic. Not even a big reveal as to the secrets the man you love has been keeping.

Just your own accidental clumsiness.

But nothing is truly an accident, you believe that. Your intuition told you to lift the board and look into it, you could’ve just straightened the board back up, but you didn’t.

Curiosity always kills the cat. But you can’t be sure if there’ll be any satisfaction to bring it back.

//

“I don’t give a fuck if you have to pull his teeth out one by fucking one. Get the answers I want, or you’re the one to pay for Lopez’s fuck up.”

Harry raises a brow, tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek. Tommy never did have any chill when it came to hearing things he didn’t like. It shouldn’t surprise Harry anymore, not after all this time.

“I thought I told you, we’re sweet with the Solados'?”

Tommy turns around, lips pursed with rolling eyes. “So ‘cause we’re sweet with them, they get to walk all over us? I don’t think so. They work the corners, we run the shit. Keep ‘em in their place, no?”

Harry holds his hands up, a chuckle slipping from the side of his mouth and Tommy grins.

“Don’t tell me Y/N’s making you all soft now… just a few years ago, you would’ve threatened worse and cut off half their pay.”

Harry remembers exactly who he was before he met you again, remembers how reckless and money hungry he was. He barely recognizes himself as ever having been that person. Meeting you again made him realize there’s more to life than drugs and money.

“Not going soft in the slightest… though the less you say, the more your threats mean. Might wanna give it a try sometime.”

Tommy scoffs as the car pulls up to a stop outside Harry’s building.

“Kavin, I’ll need you to pick me up at 8:30 tomorrow morning, got a few bits I need to take care of.”

The driver looks up through the rearview mirror as Harry talks, and he nods his head, a timid smile on his face. “No problem, boss.”

Harry turns to Tommy.

“As for you, try to stay out of trouble ‘til morning, please?”

Tommy flips Harry off as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion, Harry’s still beyond excited to get home and see you. To get straight in bed and hear all about your day while your head lays on his chest.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as the elevator takes him up to the penthouse. However, Harry doesn’t have to move far into the apartment before he finds you.

Expecting to see you already cozied up in bed, he’s confused to see you sat on the kitchen island in the dim lighting, body adorned in white lace and a pair of black heels.

Harry’s almost certain you’ve never looked so stunning, but he thinks that every damn time he sees you.

He can’t hold back the choke that breaks past his throat, and he can’t hide the tightening tent that begins to form in his fitted trousers. Harry grins sheepishly as he makes his way over.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You eye him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Unfolding your legs, you spread them open to allow Harry to close the space between you.

You guide his hands to your hips, a hum slipping past your lips.

“I thought seeing as we were doing surprises today, this would be a nice one for you to come home to.”

Your hands slowly cover the expanse of his chest. Feeling and groping the muscles beneath his white shirt. Harry's eyes are too focussed on the way your tits bulge from your bra to look you in the eye, but your words to cause a quirk in his brow.

“And what surprises might those be?”

He’s too in his fucking head, too into your body and the taste of your neck to notice you reach for anything, to even notice you move or shift. You’re going to be his fucking downfall.

“I don’t know,” you hum seductively, keeping your grip tight on the handle, pulling off the safety. “Maybe finding this little thing.”

Harry hears the click as the cold barrel of the gun meets his temple and his entire body stills. He pulls back slightly, eyes cautious as he meets your eyes.

You’re stoic, solid. You’re not about to break for shit.

“Where’d you get that, sweetheart?”

“You tell me, honey.”

Harry doesn’t say a word, doesn’t let his eyes leave yours.

“Did I find it behind the freezer? Or was it at the foot of the bed? Or, maybe I found this one in the tank of the toilet.”

Harry begins to realize you’ve been on what appears to be an Easter hunt today, finding all sorts of his little gems dotted around the house. But what he can’t figure out is why or how you started finding them in the first place.

“Tell me, Harry,” your free hand reaches between his thighs, cupping the bulge that sits heavy. “Why does a hotel owner have four guns hidden in his penthouse, with wads of cash stashed in the walls and floorboards, hm?”

Harry’s mouth grows dry, hands are slightly clammy. He works exceptionally under pressure and knows there’s always a way out, but with this, he isn’t so sure… Harry’s never dealt with this situation, he’s never even anticipated this would happen.

How stupid does he think you are?

“Put the gun down, and we’ll talk.”

Even though you’re the one with a gun to his head, he still speaks with such power and control. You won't budge though, and neither does the gun.

“I’ll put the gun down when you tell me the truth.”

He huffs, but you don’t give him chance to try and worm his way out of it.

“It’s drugs, isn’t it? That’s what’s always blowing up your phone, why Tommy is so secretive when he’s around me… why I can’t go anywhere or do anything without you knowing about it.”

There’s silence from Harry. In all honesty, he’s never seen you like this before and with a gun to his head, he’s not entirely sure how you’ll react if he tries to speak.

“What, did you think you could live this other life and not tell me how you really make your money? Did you seriously think I’d never find out, Harry? Do you think I’m that fucking dumb?”

“No, Y/N. I never told you to protect you! The less you know about this shit, the better. I don’t want you involved in any of it, okay? Now put the fucking gun down and we’ll talk.”

There’s desperation in his eyes but you can’t quite put your finger on what he’s desperate for. Surely he knows you’re no good with a gun, there’s no way you’d shoot him. Maybe it’s desperation that this doesn’t make you get up and leave.

Could he blame you if you did? He’s kept a whole life of his completely secret from you. Does he expect you to just stay and forget about it? Act like everything’s okay?

Nonetheless, despite your inner battle, you lower the gun and take a shaky breath as Harry slowly pinches it from your hand. He puts the safety back on and slides it across the island.

Harry’s eyes never leave yours as he takes off his jacket and rests it around your shoulders. With the chat you’re both about to have, it doesn’t sit right with him that you’re almost completely naked.

That’s when you finally break eye contact and the reality of everything starts to really sync in.

Not only has Harry been living an entire life secret from you, but he’s been living an illegal one. One with drugs and guns, and no doubt blood and pain.

As he leads you to the sofa, you begin to rake your brain for any times he’s ever come home scratched or bruised or bloody. It’s not like you fall short, either. There are a good few instances that pop back into your head.

He always claimed it was a rough night with training, or he and Tommy were fucking about and he clipped him with a black eye. You feel like a fool for ever believing a word that came out of his mouth.

As you’re staring at the coffee table you can’t help but question everything he’s ever said to you, everything he’s ever done. How did he even afford to buy a hotel? Was that with dirty money? And this apartment?

“Babe.”

“Don’t babe me, Harry. Sit down and explain right now before I walk out that door and I never come back.”

He huffs and takes a seat, reaching for your hands but you don’t let him. You won’t let him touch you, not until you know the truth. And even then, maybe not.

“Look, I’m happy to be open and honest with you. But there are some things you can’t know, some things I won’t tell you. To protect you. You have to understand this entire thing is bigger than us, bigger than me and Tommy.”

You raise your eyes to meet him, your face as stoic as you can muster but Harry can see you crumble behind your wavering exterior.

“You know me as Harry, and that’s who I am, who I always will be. But there is another part of me, another life I suppose I live separately. To keep you and my family safe. I’m not just a drug dealer, baby. I work for one of the biggest distributors in London. Tommy and I, we’re two of the most powerful men in the city. We run a gang of 13 corners, we sell big, not small. It’s a dangerous fucking business we work in Y/N, so dangerous I’m known by name never by face. To protect you, to protect my family.”

You blink, trying to take in the information he’s giving you. You figured most yourself, though hearing it come from his mouth? You’re not sure how to take it.

“I got myself in a mess when I was 17, I started working for a local dealer to make back the money I owed. That’s when I met Tommy, we were both in the same boat. After a while, we realized we were pretty good at it, and we got bigger and bigger. Made names for ourselves on the streets, but it came with a price. We lost a lot to get to where we are, Tommy lost his Mum, I lost my Uncle… I’m not prepared to lose you, too. That’s why I kept you out of it.”

Everything starts hitting you a little too hard. It’s too painful to hear Harry confess everything you've already assumed. In the six years you’ve known him, everything feels like a lie, like you don’t actually know him at all.

You’re engaged to a complete stranger. A dangerous stranger no doubt capable of murder, and you can feel your chest begin to sink.

“I can’t be here, I need to go.”

Harry shoots up as quickly as you do, hands gently on your elbows to steady you from making a hasty move.

“Darling, I know it’s a lot to take in but please, just hear me out.”

“Hear you out? Harry, you’ve lied to me for six fucking years. I got engaged to a man I don’t even know and you expect me to sit here and hear you out? This is too much, I can’t be around you right now.”

Panic sets in for Harry, his heart frantic in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. You do know him, he’s Harry, yourHarry. Even if you can’t see that right now.

“Where are you gonna go? Stay here and I’ll leave, I don’t want you roaming the streets.”

You huff. “I’m going to pack a bag and spend the night at my Mums. You can call Kavin and have him take me if that makes you feel better. I just need to be away from you for a while. I need to think, Harry.”

He doesn’t say a word, just sits back on the sofa while you scurry to the bedroom to change and pack a bag. It feels like you’re in there forever, when really, only a few moments pass.

It takes everything in you not to collapse to the floor in the closet, chest heavy and you struggle to gasp for another breath. You refuse to break, not while you’re here anyway. You need to get out of this apartment, out of Harry’s presence, and think.

When you leave the bedroom, Harry hears and stands again, eyes glued on the overnight bag you’ve only ever packed to spend the weekend away with him.

With a deep sigh, you clear your throat.

“I just need the night to think and wrap my head around this. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Harry nods, swallowing back the lump of a cry that’s fighting its way up his throat.

“Kavin’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You make your way to the elevator, every step an effort for your tired body, and you can’t bring yourself to look back. As you step into the elevator, Harry gets a little closer so he can still see you.

“I love you, baby.” He whimpers out as the doors begin to close.

You look away, eyes closed shut.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

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