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snghnlvr · 5 months

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come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon

park sunghoon x fem reader

synopsis : you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.

extra: his part in the baby shark movie lives in my mind 24/7, i hear it everywhere anytime and it’s making me LOSE my damn sanity | the ONE fansign video of op asking questions to sunghoon about dating ggggrrrrrrr | literally last minute drabble i had , it was supposed to be posted for my birthday but studies got in the way .. ew studies…:// | en o’ clock reference⁉️

likes, comments and reposts are very appreciated <3

[below the cut]

curiosity perhaps did kill the cat.

you wore your favorite dress (also sunghoon’s favorite dress), styled your favorite into a bun with two strands on each side of your face, wore makeup to emphasize your face features and wore your favorite ruffled socks to put your loafers on.

you dolled yourself so much just for sunghoon’s attention, but on the bright side you felt pretty all dressed up.

you didn’t know what was purpose of doing this to yourself up when you didn’t have any plans.

one day, bored in your living room of both you and sunghoon’s apartment, you came across a video on your foryou page about possessive behavior in someone’s partner. it made you think about your boyfriend’s behavior; curiosity overwhelming your thoughts. you tried to imagine what your boyfriend will do if these scenarios were to happen.

so, you planned out a script - going to the movie theatre with your male friend, eating with your male friend, etc. ; literally spending a whole day with a male friend. heck, you can’t imagine doing those things with a male other than sunghoon. you don’t even have money in your wallet right now.

you’ve always known sunghoon as a quiet yet clingy type of boyfriend. he wasn’t openly expressive with his clinginess he would be subtle. even with that itself it made your heart pound like crazy. but you wanted to take a step further on how clingy he could get.

you stepped out of the room, already seeing sunghoon lying around in the living room couch with his eyes glued to the tv. his eyes immediately diverted to you, getting your loafers out in front of the door.

“where are you going?” he asked, his eyes scanning to your dressed up figure. you knew he was shamelessly checking you out. it made your heart flutter and somehow boosted up your ego. but you shouldn’t be phased by his attractive face.

he wanted to compliment you but he spoke without thinking. he wonders where your gorgeous self is going especially with that little dress you owned that he loves on your body. he wonders what was the special occasion.

you put on a soft smile while adjusting your shoes. you noticed that sunghoon stood up, eyes still checking you out and wonders how such a dress curves your body so well.

sunghoon had a small smirk with his hands on his pocket, abandoning the pillow on his lap. it flopped next to him.

you smelt sunghoon’s signature scent of musk and a blend of roses. he wore his favorite grey hoodie that was stained with his cologne. it was because you would borrow it.

now that sunghoon was in front of you, he continue to look at you as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. that’s when you spoke. “mhm just going out.” you spoke sweetly to sunghoon but he kept you against the wall as the door was right next to the both of you but you didn’t comment. you knew he was trapping you.

“with who?” you noticed how sunghoon raised an eyebrow and how his expression slowly changed into a sad one that he wasn’t the person you’re going out with.

“just a friend of mine.” you looked up to sunghoon and noticed how your answer didn’t satisfied him so you pushed it further. “a male friend of mine.” you placed a hand on his chest, lightly playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“excuse me?” sunghoon spoke, slightly amused because usually you would hang out with your female friends.

your heart was starting to exhilarate when his voice octaves dropped. “hanbin? mark? jisung?” he started rambling of the guy friends that you had on the top of his head.

you were surprised at how many he remembered. is that a good thing?

sunghoon noticed your eyes widening so he took a deep breath and placed a soft smile that seemed a bit fake from your perspective.

“don’t go.”

what a contrast.

you almost snickered when you noticed sunghoon’s lips twitching, trying to lee his smile still but his hands wrapped around your waist, wrapped further until his hands reached his elbows. you were cold to him, close enough that your hands on his chest was the only barrier separating you two.

you found it somehow adorable to see him pouting.

you copied him. “taerae and i planned to go out and work work on our project for a while now.” you mentally apologized for using your friend’s name on the spot but you panicked to make something new on top of your head.

“where are you guys going?” you couldn’t handle sunghoon’s stare despite dating him so you looked down towards his buff chest. sometime about his stare sparked jealousy and agitated but he kept his mouth shut.

“we planned to watch a movie theatre together then a cafe and then the library.”

“alone?”

“yeah..”

you swore when you looked up at sunghoon, he was frozen, mouth apart as he was speechless. his eyes started to twitch. he then blinked at you multiple times to see if you were joking.

well, you were. but you kept a serious face on which didn’t show any sort of crackling.

“it sounds more like a date.” you can tell his whiny tone with his words, lips pouting that made you want to pinch his cheeks but you held back.

you shook his head. “why would i have a date with taerae when i can have with you?” you tilted your head, chuckling at his remark. “you’re literally my boyfriend.” you giggled lightly.

sunghoon sighed. “then don’t go. i’ll help you with the project instead, heck i’ll go to taerae instead of you.” his eyes were showing pettiness that you can’t help but lightly giggle. you saw sunghoon’s grumpy expression as he kept you close to him.

you poked at his birth mole under his eye. “boop.” were the words you let out but it didn’t phase sunghoon, keeping his grumpy expression on.

“we don’t even attend the same college hoon.” sunghoon’s eyes soften when you easily roll off his nickname out loud. he rather rolled his eyes instead.

“i have to go soon,” you looked at the clock behind sunghoon’s figure. it was 2pm. you were surprised your acting has gone this far and you’re continuing. you thought it was fun to make your boyfriend jealous.

“hoon, let go of me.” your hands flew to his triceps, surprised at how his muscle flexed against your touch. you lightly touched his muscle which broke sunghoon’s grumpy expression again.

you looked at him with an eyebrow raise, hoping he would be persuaded to let you go but he shook his head like a kid.

“come on baby, don’t say that.”

your heart beat started pounding like crazy. you were astonished at the unexpected sentence. you suddenly stared at sunghoon, how a strand of hair was covering his eye so you unconsciously moved it behind his ear, eyes watching your actions. sunghoon stared at your lips, stained with your red lipstick.

“taerae can wait another day.” sunghoon started rubbing your back with his hands, making you frozen and loosing your train of thoughts.

yeah forget taerae.

“it would be amazing to show him how beautiful my girlfriend is but i want you to myself right now baby.” sunghoon started to lean closer, his hand cupping your jaw and slowly easing your cheek with his soft fingers.

you closed your eyes and leaned against his relaxing touch. “you sound possessive park.” you were satisfied with your act, chuckling slightly at how amused you are.

sunghoon giggled as well, his deep giggle erupting in him as you felt him leaning more into you. “mhmm maybe?” he shrugged with a smile.

you opened your eyes and see sunghoon staring at you with love and affection. you can’t help but to plant a lot of kisses to his lips. you saw sunghoon staring at your lips and you predicted what was gonna happen next.

“mhmm yeah.” you smiled mischievously at sunghoon, removing his arms from your waist and turned around towards the door which showed your back to him.

maybe you’re not done yet.

but before you can open the door, sunghoon wrapped his arms once again which prevented you from not moving. your hands reached to the cold door handle but didn’t touch. his hands gripped your hips which indicated a new side of your boyfriend, park sunghoon.

sunghoon’s lips pecked your neck. “not on my watch.” his hot breath contrasted your cold skin, tickling you.

your heart paused at his actions.

you felt your boyfriend’s chest against your back, giving you instant warmth to your cold, clammy skin. his hug was very comforting and at this point you gave up with your little skit.

“possessive and back hugging me? how romantic.” you chuckled. you felt a sharp pain in the side of your neck, “ow!” you shouted in shock when it was sunghoon’s playful behavior of showing his love. you knew sunghoon had fangs and he unfortunately is abusing that characteristic of his by biting you. you rather found it his fangs adoring yet a bit hot that your boyfriend looked like an actual vampire.

you felt sunghoon’s tongue’s slowly soothing that area when he licked your pain away; like a cat. you smiled when he hugged you tighter as his face was dug into your neck as if you’ll disappear.

sunghoon abruptly stopped hugging you but rather grabbed your hand, dragging you across the hallway towards the bed that both of you live in, filled with smiles and flustered cheeks.

thank you for reading<3 hope you enjoyed!

#enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #sunghoon drabbles #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon drabble #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen

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skipper19 · 8 months

Text

Imagine this..

Gojo absolutely loves the look of his pregnant wife wobbling around the home. He loves it a lot more than he thought he would. Gojo takes so many pictures of you. From the day of the big news, all the way to today.

"Satoru sto-Op!" You squeaked and giggled as you spoke. "I am allowed to dote on my pregnant wife, thank you very much." His low voice spoke very smugly into your ear. Despite your outward complaints, you still looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter and smiled. You blinked when the flash went off, and you rubbed your eyes.

"You take too many pictures of me.." You grumble. "Especially when I look like shit." You pouted and rested your hand on your swollen stomach. Gojo gasped and put a hand to his chest. "Shit? You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever met," He leans now and cups your jaw in his hands. "Especially in the mornings." He whispered softly before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss and felt your shoulders relax.

"Mm..if I wasn't already pregnant, I would drag you to bed until I am.." You mumbled happily against his lips. Gojo snickers and rolls his ocean eyes. "Keep talking like that, and I will drag you back to bed, despite already being pregnant." He smirked with lidded eyes. "Even if I'm 5 months pregnant?" You whispered. "Especially when you're 5 months pregnant." He pulled you into a passionate kiss after the words left his lips.

You both didn't leave the bed again until 6 pm.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

Gojo hurriedly washed his hands and ignored grabbing paper towels as he left, deciding to wipe his wet hands off on his pants instead. He was in too much of a rush to care anyway. His pregnant wife was all by her lonesome in the grocery store as he dealt with his bladder problem. He hated to leave you alone. He hated leaving you alone around other people even more.

Gojo sensed your cursed energy in the nearest aisle and quickly returned by your side. He smiled when he spotted you looking at the baby shoes that were huddled in a small pile on the corner of the shelf. Gojos eyes glanced to the clearance sign above the shelf and playfully rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted our baby girl to have the best quality clothes? Why are we in the clearance section?" He playfully scolded as he leaned his shoulder against the shelf with the shoes.

"Well, I remember saying that it doesn't have to be expensive, as long as it looks adorable on our baby boy." You retorted with a sly smile. Gojo huffed and shook his head. "Our baby girl has the best, strongest, and wealthiest father in all of Japan. I think she deserves to be spoiled." He crossed his arms, making you glance at the faint sight of his veins popping out. Amusement laced his eyes behind the dark shades adorning his handsome face.

"And I think our baby boy will care nothing about being spoiled, as long as it's comfortable." You shot back and quickly looked back down to the pair of shoes in your hand. Gojo felt his heart leap when you placed the boy shoes in the shopping cart before reaching back onto the shelf and grabbing a feminine pair of shoes as well. Gojo pushed himself from the shelf and walked behind you to wrap his arms around your growing belly.

"You are going to be an amazing mother." He whispered softly into your ear. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. "You think so?" You placed your hands onto his. "I really do."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

It didn't take long for Gojo to realize you weren't in bed with him any longer. He was normally hyper aware when you would leave the warmth of his arms at night, but he had been even more of a light sleeper after you hit your 7 month mark.

Gojo didn't want to think of what he would do if something had happened to you.

He threw the covers off of himself before leaving the inviting warmth of the sheets. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen, only to find you quietly sitting at the marble island in the center of the room. You were minding your business as you nibbled away at your odd snack, a soft tune playing from the radio nearby. Gojo always insisted on buying speakers. That way, he could blast music from the TV, but you denied him every time. You always said that the radio was much better.

Gojo sighed and quietly walked up to you, his eyes grazing over your plump form. He couldn't help but smirk. You just looked so lovely as you sat there, munching away on your food, his shirt barely covering your body. Gojo was head over heels in love with you, that was obvious.

"Sneaking away from me just to get you a snack? How rude." Gojo softly said as he pouted. You jumped as his arms snaked around your body. You swatted at his muscular arms and shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Dont sneak up on a pregnant lady! You nearly made me drop my pickles.." You mumbled. Despite your annoyance, your body still leaned back to relax against his warm chest.

Gojo glanced at the food in your hands and resisted the urge to shiver. Pickles and marshmallows. "Mm, I wouldn't want to have to throw that snack away.." You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and plopped the pickle and mini marshmallow in your mouth. "Shuddup."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"You're doing so good, baby, just a few more pushes." Gojo encouraged you with soft spoken words and swift fingers caressing your hair. You wanted to yell at him to just shut up, but the pain you were feeling inhibited anything other than pained sounds.

Gojo hated seeing you in so much pain. Especially when he couldn't do anything to quell it. "Just one more push." The doctor said. If it weren't for the situation, Gojo knew better than anyone how embarrassed you would be right now. He leaned down closer to your ear. "One more push, sweetheart, and then we can meet our beautiful baby." He whispered softly. You gripped his hand tighter, thankful that his infinity was lowered, his touch grounded you. It kept you sane on a normal day, and you needed him more than ever right now.

"I can't.. I can't!" Your voice was hoarse and weak as you sobbed aloud. Gojo shook his head and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your skin as he spoke. "Yes, you can. I know you can. You're strong, the strongest woman I have ever met, I know you can do this." His words replayed like a symphony. You can do this. You are strong. You can do this. For your baby.

One final push, followed by a shout of pain, led to the cries of your baby echoing in the room. Gojo smiled and gulped down his nerves as he watched the nurses take away his baby to be cleaned.

You weren't in the same condition.

Your ears rang as your head pounded. You know your baby was finally delivered, so why couldn't you hear them? Your glazed eyes panicked to search the room for your child. "Sa-satoru?" Your voice weakly called out. His ocean blue eyes cast down to your face to see the concern and tears. His hand moved from your hair to your face as he wiped away your tears and tilted your gaze to meet his.

"I can't hear them crying. Are they okay?" You hiccuped. Gojos eyebrows furrowed slightly, yet he kept a warm smile on his face. "They are fine, don't worry." He reassured and kissed your sweaty forehead. His eyes glanced to the doctor, only to see a reassuring smile sent back his way. "It's normal for the mother to be disoriented after giving birth. It's a lot of strain on her body." The doctor said quietly.

Gojo sighed and briefly closed his eyes as his lips lingered against your forhead. His attention was directed to the nurse as she walked back with a small bundle in her arms. "Mrs. Gojo," the nurse called softly. Your eyes fell to her, then the bundle of life in her arms. A wobbly smile formed on your lips as you weakly reached out your arms for your baby. The moment the baby was rested against your chest, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall.

Gojo couldn't help but tear up.

"It's a boy." The nurse spoke up. You tearfully giggled and gently ran your finger over your baby's cheek. "My baby boy.." You mumbled, a soft kiss landing on his head.

After a few moments of skin to skin contact and appreciation, you looked to Gojo. He didn't need you to say a word. He eagerly held his arms out for you to gently place his baby boy in his warm hold. On instinct, the man handled his son with nothing but gentle touch. You just knew he was going to be an amazing father. "God, look at you.. beautiful, just like your mama.." He cooed. You rested your hand on his arm. "Handsome, just like his daddy." You whispered with droopy eyes. He shakily sighed.

This is his family.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"Thank you.. Thank you so much." Gojo mumbled into your ear. Your mind, despite being fogged, was able to register his words. "F-for what?" You gasped, your nails drawing blood from his pale skin. "For giving me a family." His words reverberated in your spine, causing your ears to tingle and your eyes to close in pleasure.

"I want to be selfish.." He spoke again. His movement picked up speed, quickly sucking the words from your throat. "I want one more. Give me one more -please baby, just one more.." But Gojo has always been a greedy man. One was never enough, and you knew this all too well.. "Please~" He begged, almost pathetically. You moaned aloud and grasped his face in your hands, pulling his lips to your own from where they once were on your neck.

"Give me it, Satoru.. give it to me."

#jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #pregnant reader #fluff #fanfic

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bi-writes · 3 months

Text

bff!roommate!simon comes home from deployment. it is the first time that either of you feel the distance thousands of miles can bring.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 10/?)

word count: 3.4k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, aNgSt, mean!simon, mentions of simon's canon trauma, military service criticism, pet names (luv, kitty), vague smut (18+) ⚠️🔞

large blocks of italicized text are flashbacks.

she hasn't called.

it was something that simon realized only a week in. normally, he spent his evenings sheltered in his room, his earbuds in, your voice on the other end. even if he didn't talk, you spoke. normally, you would tell him about your day; about the customer that gave you a hefty tip, the kids that left the tables a sticky mess, the meal you made that you think he would like. simon listened, and he would close his eyes and let the lull of your voice put him to sleep. sometimes, it was the next best thing to get him rest; it was impossible to know the comfort of you in your bed across from him when he was so far away.

more recently, those calls had become something else. you would still tell him the same stories, but sometimes your voice would drop a few degrees lower, and you would ask him if he was thinking about you--about all of you. and there simon would be, a pathetic, choking mess as he fucked himself to soft sound of your voice on the other end--so good, simon, miss you so much, need you, need you--can't wait for you to come home, n-need to feel you--

but it was quiet now. there was no one calling him, no one leaving him texts that he couldn't wait to read in the morning. his phone was silent; but the thoughts in his head were not.

the inevitable loneliness faded to anger after the weeks apart; his sergeants were quick to learn to stay out of his way. there was to be no conversation, no jokes, no playful banter before and after their ops. there was complete silence, because if they spoke about anything other then their direct objective, simon was an unleashed dog, and no one wanted to be on the spitting end of his berating.

he thought about you even when he wasn't supposed to. when he was supposed to be focused, when he was supposed to have his eyes on the target, sweeping the horizon--you were there, behind his eyes. remembering the look on your face before he had left.

the gloss of your eyes. the tears that collected at the edges. the drawing in of your knees to your chest, the tremble of your pouty lip. the stain that he was leaving on you--he didn't even have it in him to turn around and tell you that he was sorry.

he was sorry. the things you asked for weren't unreasonable--you wanted answers. you wanted him to tell you what this was, what this would be. it wasn't enough anymore to pretend this wasn't real. the reality was that there was no one else--and his eyes had yet to go anywhere else since the first moment he tasted your sweet cunt. he knew, deep down, that this possessiveness had started long before that--when you were just kids, holding onto each other for some kind of comfort away from what waited for you at home.

you cradled his head in your lap. a damp towel was in one hand, the other holding his trembling face to your chest. when you pulled the towel back, you flinched at the sight of blood.

"simon? y-you...y-you wanna talk about it?"

all he could was shake his head. you picked him up, sitting him back gently against the bench, and you used the towel to wipe at the blood drying under his nose. his eyes were red with the tears he wanted to cry, but he held them back, swallowing them down.

you leaned in, looking down as you rested your forehead against his.

"what was it this time? was it tommy?"

when he just shrugged, you reached down, smoothing your hand over his. his hands were smooth, soft--they had not seen the other side yet.

"n-no one's gonna be at my place," you whispered. "why don't you stay tonight?"

you ate instant noodles on the roof that evening, your head leaning on his shoulder as you both looked out into the dreary city. there were dark clouds overhead, and you knew it would rain tomorrow. fitting, and you hoped then that it might wash away the pain of yesterday.

it was the first night that simon was encased by silence. on his back beside you on your twin bed, staring up at the ceiling as he thought about how he might explain the bruises on his face when he went to his classes the next day--about what he might say this time.

when he turned his head, there you were. eyes closed, face pressed into your pillow as you breathed gently. real. alive. here. some kind of respite that he didn't think he deserved.

the papers he had taken were burning a hole in his desk at home--just waiting for his signature. it was time to take control. to take his life back. that was the only way that he could keep this, whatever it was--this was the only way that he could protect you. protect himself. protect tommy, his mother, his sanity.

the only thing he prayed for that night was that you would forgive him when he left you behind.

you had always been his. you belonged to him. and he could keep pushing you away, but it wouldn't erase the fact that he lived in your bones and you under his skin, and whatever this was meant forever.

and simon wouldn't fucking die--no matter how hard they tried--and he needed to fix this.

but he was angry. and half of him came from something else. something not real. something sour. something that bled dark, not red but black, poison. sometimes he could feel that half of him right under his tongue. he could taste it, the sour and rot that part of him was made of, and he could feel it multiplying under his skin like mold.

he would never be rid of this kind. he couldn't throw away half of himself without losing all of himself; and normally, simon could swallow this down, keep it underneath, but fuck, it's coming, going to be fuckin' sick, it's coming--

when he saw her, he just took her. glaring at her under a dark mask didn't deter her, and when she kept pushing, he let her. he let her follow him home, let her through the threshold of a space that had only ever belonged to someone else.

he let her in. he let her in. he let her in.

she didn't taste like you. she was too loud. her voice was too shrill, moans that made him flinch rather than relax. between her thighs, it wasn't the same--it wasn't warm like it was with you. she was wet, dripping actually, but she smelled like something else. foreign. poison.

her eyes were too wet, too harsh, a glare there that didn't belong. this was wrong, it felt wrong, but he was so angry, and he needed something to bite. maybe something to tear about, he wasn't exactly sure, but as soon as he had her here, under him, knees pressed to her chest as she let him fuck her senseless, he realized that it was painful.

there was a disconnect between what was real and what was not. it was so real with you, and now he just felt so far away from himself. he felt like someone else. and he thought, he really thought, that the other half of him was so fucking real that it would come easy.

to hurt. to inflict pain. to growl and claw and take and eat, shouldn't this be easy? pain was in his genes, it was a part of him. trauma ran in his blood and into his veins, and when his heart pumped, it trickled into every soft place that lived and breathed inside of him.

isn't it? isn't this a part of me? why does it hurt? why doesn't it feel good? why is it worse, why does this hurt, why can't i breathe--

the front door shut behind you. you let out a shaky sigh, shrugging off your jacket and putting your bag down. you tossed everything onto the kitchen table, and just as you went to put your shoes away by the door, you noticed something out of place.

simon's boots were haphazardly tossed beside the shoe bench, laces hurriedly untied, one boot fallen onto its side. strange, and it stood out to you because simon wasn't someone who didn't put things away where they should be. he was adamant about this practice. but the strangest thing was the pair of shoes thrown beside them--heeled suede boots, with a pointed toe.

but they didn't belong to you.

you froze, your lips parting when you heard the shuffle of noise behind a closed door. you stepped backwards in the foyer, your back hitting the wall, and you put your hand over your stomach, suddenly feeling like heaving.

simon had come home; and there was someone else here with him.

your entire body suddenly felt hot, on fire. you looked towards the window, the one that faced the street, and when your vision went blurry, you realized there were tears coming down your face. the heat must've been your falling heart--it was dropping, fast, sliding down your chest and into your stomach, and it was like the acid there was crawling right back up your throat. you couldn't see anymore, warm tears wetting your cheeks and gathering in your mouth and staining your jaw and your neck.

simon had come home--and there was someone else here with him.

it had felt so real. hadn't it been real? wasn't this real? wasn't he real? weren't you real? this was real--it was fucking real.

right?

you hurried. you went right for your bedroom, shoving the door open, and you frantically went for your closet, pushing it open and scrambling for one of your bags. you tossed items off the shelves, blind through your tears, and as you grabbed one that hid behind a box of your memories, the lid popped off of it, its contents spilling onto the floor. you stepped over polaroid pictures, over moments captured in time, and you couldn't focus on them because you were blind--the tears just wouldn't stop, they won't stop, please stop.

you tossed the bag onto the bed, ripping the zipper open, and you flung the drawers open, just scooping handfuls of your clothes into the bag. whatever would fit--anything you could pick up until the bag was full, until you could barely force the zipper closed and swing the bag over your shoulder. you looked around the room frantically, looking for any essentials you might need, and you froze when you heard voices outside your door, the padding of more than one pair of feet. simon's footsteps were easy to point out, but then there was a lighter pair, a voice a little high-pitched wafting after his own.

suddenly, the idea of running away, of crying--it felt so stupid. he wasn't your boyfriend. he wasn't your lover, not your significant other, there was nothing that tied you together. the string you always thought that connected you wasn't that at all; simon had you on a leash, and you just hadn't realized he just let go.

he leaves me behind. he always leaves me behind.

there was nothing in those dark eyes that belonged to you. there was nothing here in this apartment that told you otherwise. separate rooms, separate things--you were just two people that lived in the same place, so what if he eats my cunt and puts his fingers inside of me and calls me a good girl? he's not mine, not mine, he doesn't belong to me.

and the only thing worse than the truth of it was that you belonged to him. and he had ruined you for anyone else.

the door swung open. you stopped moving, your hands shaking as you turned towards the sound of it. you knew how it looked--the bag over your shoulder, a few cherished knickknacks cradled in the other arm. the red in your eyes, the tears on your face--the rawness of your sadness so exposed and so there, right in his face, right where he could see you.

he was dressed down, sweats pulled on haphazard, a wrinkled shirt pulled on so hastily that he hadn't realized it was inside-out. and that fucking mask, crooked and damp on his sweaty face. he was gripping your doorknob tight in one fist, his knuckles white from how hard he held it.

"oi," he looked around your room. disheveled, messier than usual. ransacked drawers from your frantic packing, items knocked over as you searched for your precious possessions. "wot's this?"

you swallowed.

"i'm...i'm going on...on a trip. i..." you tried to laugh through your tears, "i thought i told you. i-i must've forgot."

"'cause i just got home," he muttered, stepping into your room. you stepped back at that. simon had been in your room before, of course he had. but something wasn't the same. something was different, and now instead of feeling like every corner of your apartment was safe, it felt like he was invading this place. he was too big, the room was too small, the distance between you was too short. you were suffocating. you couldn't breathe. and when he reached over and snatched the bag off your shoulder, you flinched.

when simon met his own eyes in the mirror, he nearly choked. he didn't recognize himself. the eyes that stared back at him didn't belong to him. not simon, not ghost, not the someone he pretended to be--no. no, no, no--that isn't me--i'm not like him--not him, not him, not him, anything but him.

he dropped your bag, holding out his hand suddenly. he was careful, slow, as if he might startle you, and you stepped back again, shaking your head.

"kitty--"

"don't!" you cried, and the yell of your own voice startled you, so much that you put a shaking hand over your mouth. you looked away from him. "d-don't call me that."

and just like that, he felt it. the spool of thread, cut. the line connecting you--severed. the apartment you had made a home, the sacred door that you hadn't opened to anyone, fuck, it was gone so quick. the years of trust, the undeniable bond, just gone, it was gone, how the fuck was that possible?

had it really been that easy? had this thing between you that had been so real been so fucking delicate?

your hands were shaking. trembling, and it was hard to read the papers that you held, and it was even harder to read them when the tears you shed was making the ink bleed.

your bedroom door creaked, and you looked up. simon ran an uneasy hand through his hair when he realized what you were holding. his signature so clear at the bottom, and all he had to do was walk back into the recruiting office. he didn't want to take anything with him--he didn't have any possessions, nothing he needed to pack away.

nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away, nothing, nothing, nothing.

"when were you going to tell me?" you asked, but it was more of a strained whisper. you let the papers slip back into their place, and when you met his eyes, he was sympathetic, but you knew that look. you weren't going to change his mind about this. it was all made up.

"i...i-i hadn't thought about it. i...no, i just...i don't know."

he swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. he was uncomfortable, but he came closer, settling onto the ground beside you, sitting just next to you.

"when...when are you leaving?"

a beat. and then, "in a few days."

you looked down at your hands, and as you watched them continue to shake, simon reached over, putting his own hand over them and clasping them together, stilling you. just like that, so easy--how much power did he hold over you?

"b-but...but why?"

"need to do this. not just for me," he murmured. "not just for tommy. not just...for mum. you. have you seen the fuckin' news? haven't you seen what's going on?"

and what about what went on behind your closed doors? his own? simon gets to decide to be hero when the real war is right here, right under his fucking nose?

selfish. he's so selfish. i hate him. i hate him. i hate him.

"so...what?" you breathed. "those...those towers get hit, so that means i-i have to lose something, too?"

he turned to face you, frowning. "don't say that. that isn't...that's not what this is. i need to do something. i can't...i can't just keep watching this happen. it's not right." he squeezed your hand. "i can do something about this. i can help."

you had no idea simon had suddenly become some kind of martyr. that he suddenly felt some kind of obligation to saving the world.

he was your world. weren't you his?

"'m gonna come back," he said softly, but it didn't feel like a promise.

it just felt like goodbye.

he was calling your name, but you pretended not to hear. her boots were gone, but the trace of something unfamiliar still lingered in the air. you grabbed your purse, the keys jingling, and just as you were going to move again, reality hit him.

i'm going to lose her. i'm going to lose her if i don't say something.

"would y'just let me fuckin' say something?!"

the sharpness of his voice stopped you, and you turned to face him, your bottom lip trembling.

"what do you want from me, simon?" you breathed. "what the fuck do you want from me? i-i...i didn't ask for this."

"luv--" he came closer, and you sobbed when he gripped both sides of your head. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you tight, firm.

solid. grounding.

"it's okay," you shook your head. you smiled through your tears, blinking through them, meeting his eyes. "simon, it's okay...it's...it's my fault..."

"..wot?"

"i wanted more," you whispered. the tears were wetting his hands, and as much as he tried to wipe them away, more kept falling. "i wanted more, and i..." you laughed a little, but there was no humor in it. just sadness, echoing and hollow, just how you felt inside. you lifted a shoulder in a defeated shrug. "it's never been that way."

simon shook his head. "no. kitty, 's not true--"

"you've never fought for this before, simon, don't start begging now," you gasped. "just don't. you leave me behind. that's my fucking fate with you, getting left behind, and i keep thinking you'll change, but you won't--"

"that's not--!"

"you won't change, simon!" you cried, choking on it, and you were so sad, and for something that supposedly wasn't real, it felt like a gaping wound, something splitting apart his skin and crawling from the inside-out. "you...you won't change...but it's okay...s-simon, it's okay..." you tried to smile again. "i've always known. i-i think i've just...i've always known..."

the glass around him shattered when you spoke again.

"i-i've always...i-i...i think i've always been yours," your voice was so soft. it was the pain of accepting a truth you never wanted. "a-and...and you've never been mine."

it wasn't true. that wasn't true. you had no idea what kind of things you held over him. you had no idea the power you had, the kind of things that your touch made him feel. you had no idea how tightly he was bound--he had no room to breathe.

if this wasn't love, if this wasn't the kind of pain that love brought, then what the fuck is this? isn't this real? aren't we real?

but half of simon was poison. and when you left, it was quiet. there was no one to hear him scream. there was no one to take the glass out of his mouth, the shards of them that he swallowed, to watch the black of his blood choke him.

when he looked in the mirror again, he recognized those eyes. he had been too afraid to see them for what they were before, but now he knew who those eyes belonged to, and he thought it would be easier to cut them out than look at his reflection again.

a dream, a nightmare, not reality.

left behind.

always yours. and never mine.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

Note

I think awhile back you did glamrocks x child reader (platonic) saying their first words but I saw you didn't do the same with Sun and Moon,sooo could you possibly do sun and moon aswell pls?

-Greek myth anon 📜

Aw you remember those? They're ancient haha.

Here were those hcs for anyone who wants to read them

...........

Sun

"Sun! Bye-bye!"

At first, he didn't think much of it when you spoke, waving goodbye and going back to the tables after handing you over to your parent(s).

Yet they went up to him, and at first he thought they had a serious complaint.

Or maybe he accidentally gave them the wrong child.

But after revealing that you just said your first words, including his name, it clicks in his mind and he's SUPER overjoyed, bouncing on his heels and grinning.

"Oh my gosh I am SO proud of you, starshine!!" He coos, shaking your tiny little hands. "Keep up the great work!!"

If you ever come back to the Pizzaplex when you're older, he's never gonna let you forget that.

Moon

"M...Moon!"

"Yes, little firefly. I'm.....what's that look for?"

Moon stares at your bewildered guardian, who has to explain that they've been trying to get you to say your first words for weeks now, without much success.

You refused to say "Freddy" no matter how many times they've taken you to see him for photo-ops and events. Not even the bear himself could encourage you.

Yet within five seconds of meeting Moon for the first time...you said his name and were eager to go with him.

He's kinda shocked that you weren't immediately scared of him like all the other toddlers.

But he's happy (and definitely smug about it, bragging to Sun 100%).

"The children may like you more...but have any of them ever said their first word was "Sun"? I don't think so~"

#clanask #greek myth anon #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #child reader #platonic #headcanons #fluff

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chuuyasheaven · 7 months

Text

"Thigh lover"— Dazai Osamu

"Dazai always loved your thighs, especially when they're in thigh highs. Whenever they are, he either goes on town on you or fucks the living daylights out of you, this time though it was neither but also everything of the above."

Tags: sub! Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, face sitting, pet names, bratty? Dazai, pw/op, oral sex, slightly mean! Reader, edging???, pussydrunk! Dazai, squirting, degrading kink, everything is consented, overstimulation?, thigh fucking, Reader is thicc, he's whiny ong, idrk what I'm doing (again), ooc! Dazai, might contain grammar errors, rushed, short?, etc.

Notes: howdy, tryin' to keep up rn

All because he acted out, once again being bratty and annoying. So what's better than punishment? A punishment, which also could make you feel good. Then the perfect idea came up in your head. In this moment, Dazai's lips were making out with your cunt, while you were enjoying yourself. How is that an punishment, you ask? Well, he's not allowed to touch himself while he's eating you out, if he tries then—

"Mph—", you slightly closed your thighs together so his face would be squished. "I said no touching, did i?", you asked coldly, Dazai was only able to try to continue to eat you out, even though he couldn't since you closed your legs. "Don't make me repeat myself, brat.", you hissed at him pissed, your voice raspy at that, which made it harder to resist. ". . Yes,", he said muffled, you start to slightly smirk again. "Try to be good for once, dear, then maybe you could get what you want.", you stated, releasing Dazai from your grip. He almost immediately started getting back to where he was cut off. You grabbed his hair as he grabbed your thighs, holding onto them. He could tell that you were getting close, since he was good at it. Soon, it washed over you and you gushed onto his face, Dazai could've cum just then and there but he didn't.

As you came down from your first orgasm, Dazai spoke up. "Did I do good?", he asked while looking at you. You looked back at him smirked lightly. "Well, you did, but I don't think you really learned your lesson. .", he pouted at you, and you tried to think of something, because you couldn't stop there. Then another solution popped up. "If you wanna cum so bad, then fuck my thighs, baby.", Dazai's eyes lit up, he was willing to do anything to cum at least once. You got down from his face and sat down on the bed, while Dazai was unbuckling his belt. As you glanced at his boxers, you could see that he was leaking, look at how desperate he is! Parting your thighs a little so he had some space to slide into, he almost instantly slide in and you closed them together. Dazai bit his lip when he started to fuck your thighs, sliding in and out of them, already heavy breathing. "Feels good, doesn't it, slut?", Dazai nodded quickly while he soon to whimper quietly.

Dazai was slowly getting closer to his climax, his whimpers and whines getting louder. You had to admit, looking at him while he's so pathetically desperate had you dripping. But, you still didn't have any plans to have him cum, where's the fun in that? "Pleasepleaseplease—", he choked, you could feel him leaking more than before, meaning he was close to cumming, so parted your thighs for him to stop but also lose his orgasm. Dazai whined at this move of yours. "But I–i thought. . You said I could cum!", he whined, you looked at him rather cold again. "I didn't say it like that, besides, even if I said so I still didn't get an apology, 'Samu.", you corrected him, he was getting really frustrated with this. "Sorry.", he whispered quickly, did he think this was enough? "You can do better than this, can you? If you apologize to me and mean it, you can fuck me, alright? You know what I wanna hear, dear.", Dazai was ready to apologize genuinely just to feel your perfect cunt again, even the thought made his dick twitch.

Dazai looked down while starting off with his apology, starting to almost beg to feel your walls around him. "I'm s–sorry for acting out, I really didn't mean to annoy you. . Please, can you make me cum? I swear I'll be good f'you.", he said with a whiny tone, you smirked at him again and grabbed his chin to make him look at you. "You mean it, baby?", you cooed quite mockingly, he nodded. "Yes, please, need you so bad.", he was lowkey cute like this, so you accepted it, besides, you wanted to feel him inside you now. "Okay, if you really mean it, then I'll forgive you. You have my permission now.", you stated, Dazai's eyes lit up again, excitement visible within his eyes. You spread your legs enough for him, your pussy already wet enough for him to slide in, he could've sworn that he wanted to just cum of the sight. Dazai entered and already came right inside you, you let out a quiet moan of surprise. He already started to thrust now, he wasn't slow but also not rough, just somewhere in between.

It felt so good you could've sworn that you almost wanted to cum at this moment, but you tried to stay dominant. You tried really hard, but Dazai lifted your leg to reach deeper inside, whenever he pulled that trick you were a moaning mess. As his hips slapped against yours, the sound filling your bedroom, you were starting to lose control and started to moan with him. Then you felt your second orgasm near, when it washed over you Dazai came again stopping for a moment. You tried to catch your breath, but Dazai started to thrust again, trying to chase another orgasm. Dazai's face starting to get sweaty, his face flushed and slutty moans and whimpers leaving both of your lips. "F–fuck, Dazai. . Slow down—", your pleas fell on deaf ears, he was only able to fuck and pant heavily. Your legs were lifted again, Dazai placed on his hips to reach deeper inside you, which made you almost gush around his cock again. How did he manage to make this sensitive this quick? "Ah! D–dazai. .", you moaned, trying to calm him down but he was in a trance, he was pussydrunk now.

It was incredible, so much that you were nearing your third, but this one was feeling kind of weird. Dazai kept on thrusting inside you, already reaching to your clit to make you cum faster, which definitely did. When he trusted once more, you felt it coming, intense. "D–dazai, I'm close—" was the last thing you said before you squirted all over him, your juices gushing around him too. Open seeing this, Dazai moaned one last time before cumming inside you, twitching insanely a lot. You were out of breath and so was Dazai, he pulled out and your mixed juices leaked out of your cunt. He laid beside you, you moved over to him and got closer.

"This. . Was something else, 'donna."

This wasn't rlly abt thighs was it?

#Rei's Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️#dazai bungou stray dogs #dazai smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bottom dazai #clingy dazai #osamu dazai smut

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

Text

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 6: Darling

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: PART 6 HAS ARRIVED! Thank you for all of your support! A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and being my beta! Enjoy and blessed be! (p.s. ghost drinking an orange sodie lol) << Previous | Next >>

Simon could hear his daughter’s screams as he came up the walkway to their front door, duffel slung over his shoulder. He had returned from a month-long deployment an hour ago and only allowed himself enough time to debrief and return his weapons once on base before hopping in his car and heading home.

He entered the house, still in full gear (mask and all), to find his heavily pregnant wife pacing the living room, their crying daughter in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red when she turned to the door, sobbing in relief at the sight of him.

“Oh, sweetheart. What’s going on?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and going to her.

“She has a-a cold.”

“I can see that.” He wiped at the snot and drool on Joanie’s lip with his glove. “Where’s Roach?”

“He went to pick König up. You didn’t see him?”

“No. Must’ve just missed ‘im.” When Price handed out assignments for their most recent deployment, Roach had offered (more like decided) to stay with Freyja for the duration of his absence. With König also deployed, it made sense for him to help her with the baby and housekeeping while Simon was gone. Better than staying on base – alone – for a month. Knowing someone was in the house with his family made him feel better about leaving for such an extended period, especially with his track record. The last time he had left the country, leaving his pregnant spouse behind…

Simon rubbed his daughter’s back, his heartstrings tugging at the thought of her being in pain. “Give ’er here, I’ll take a turn.”

“Si, no, you must be exhausted-”

“I am exhausted, which means I’m in no mood to argue. Go to bed, love, please.”

His pleading didn’t seem to affect her as she went back to doing laps around the couch. “The doctor said there’s nothing we can do. It just has to pass. I’ve tried everything. Chest salve, shower steam, saline – nothing’s working. Every-Every time we put her down or sit down, the screaming just gets worse. Can’t stop…moving, and your son is kicking the shit out of me-”

This was ironic, considering how Joan only kicked when Simon or one of their friends spoke or touched her belly. Now, their son only ever kicked for her.

“Freyja.”

She stopped her rambling and found he had stepped into her path; he firmly held her biceps and dragged his hands up and down. Freyja sniffled as another tear slipped down her cheek. No singular word could describe how she felt (and probably looked). Drained, fatigued, beaten, dog-tired; none quite did the trick.

“You look like shit. You need to get some rest.”

“No, Simon, please just go to…bed.”

Soon as Ghost took Joan and returned to massaging her spine, her wails simmered to quiet whimpers as she cuddled into him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, little fingers hanging from the collar of his shirt to the top of his vest. Their baby was getting big, her senseless baby talk beginning to lean more toward coherent vocabulary. When Joanie cried a soft “Dada” against his neck, Freyja started to sob harder, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes.

Shit. “What’s wrong? She stopped screaming bloody murder. That’s a good thing.”

“I’ve been trying to calm her down for hours! You come home, and after five minutes, you’ve fixed it. She hates me! She fucking hates me!”

“Frey, look at me.” He stopped comforting Joan for a moment to tilt his wife’s chin up, forcing her to listen to him. When she did, he took his hand back. “Babies see their mothers as an extension of themselves. She knows your heartbeat and breathing sounds; she gets food from you…”

“Who told you that?”

“…I read about it.”

Freyja softened, tears no longer flowing freely. “You read parenting books?”

“Of course I do. I want to be the best for them and you.” He pulled her into his chest with one arm, his covered lips pressing into her hair. “You are her mother. I could never take your place. You’re her home. But I’ve been gone for a month, and I’ve never been away from her this long. There’s something to be said about missing her dad and wanting some comfort.”

When Simon brushed her tears away, she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her cheek there. Freyja didn’t know how, but her husband sure had a way with words, always knowing how to make her feel better.

“Better?”

“Mhm,” she hummed and, before she could reach to pull his mask up, Joanie whined in frustration, kicking her legs impatiently, about to start up again. Simon chuckled and let his wife go, his heavy boots thunking against the hard floor as he began what would be a long night of getting his steps in.

“Good. Now do as Daddy tells you and go to bed. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Coming up on the end of her pregnancy, the ‘waddling’ stage was in full swing. If Freyja thought she was big just before Joan was born, she was almost certainly a whale now, and she was losing energy much faster than before. This time around, though, they were sure to schedule a c-section for the week before her due date. The OB didn’t put up much of an argument with her medical history and Joan’s early arrival.

Her phone pinged again as she rounded the corner toward her husband’s office.

And again.

Joan’s irritable whines became more evident as she closed in on her destination. “Si, I can only move so fast.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ghost detached Joan’s iron grip from his mask while she was distracted. She continued to kick her little legs against him, trying to get away. “She’s antsy. I can’t get her down for shit. She’s sick of me.”

He wheeled his chair around the desk and tugged her missing sock back on (to her protest) until he reached the other side and placed her feet on the floor. “See? Mum’s here. Go see her,�� he cooed, her tiny hands gripping his thumbs for support.

“Dad Ghost” as she had lovingly coined Simon in his work attire, was a walking contradiction. An arguably massive man, a masked mystery to majority of the population on base, snapping otherwise cocky and egotistical soldiers back in line. Still, no one dared to laugh as he screamed at them for poor technique or a lackluster performance with a blonde baby on his hip or strapped to his back. It never failed to make her want to giggle, hearing such a soft, gentle tone from the big scary skull plate affixed to his balaclava.

Freyja was halfway across the room when he stood their daughter between his comically large boots. “She won’t go that far,” she admonished. “If you give her too big of a task, she’s not going to even try-”

As if sensing her mother’s doubt, Joan took a steady step forward, still holding Simon’s hands in deep concentration. Then another, and another –

Until he couldn’t stretch forward anymore, and she let go, hobbling towards Freyja until she stumbled at her feet, letting out a soft baby grunt.

They both stared at each other in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape in shock. Neither spoke for a good minute, until Joanie pulled herself up again by Freyja’s cargo pants, babbling, “Mum mum mum mummm”, gnawing at the thick material and looking up with big, brown eyes.

“Did she just…?”

“I told you, she’s bloody brilliant.” Simon shot up to scoop the baby and place her in his wife’s waiting arms.

“My big, smart girl! I can’t believe it!” She squealed and giggled as Freyja peppered her face in fat, wet kisses and gently shook her. Ghost joined in, playfully nibbling at the rolls on the other side through the black material covering his face. Joanie smacked them both away, screaming with joy. Amongst all the commotion, Price stopped in the doorway on his way to their brief (which they were about to be late for).

“What’s going on here?” he asked, fists on his hips in faux anger. “I thought we had an understanding! No fun at work without Granddad.”

“We officially have a walker on our hands!”

Price gasped and crossed the room in an instant. “And I missed it?!” He shoved the stack of mission folders at the lieutenant and stole his granddaughter from her mother, hiking her high up on his waist. “You walked without me? I’m offended, little miss, but I’ll settle for a victory lap.”

He plucked his green bucket hat off the top of his head and dropped it onto hers, earning a high-pitched shriek of delight when it covered her face. “Let’s roll, everybody. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he commanded before marching down the hall. “Oi, lads! She walked!”

A chorus of cheers broke out in the distance, followed by a wall-shaking group chant, “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!”

Freyja just stood there, pouting, arms crossed atop her belly. “Just once, I’d like to celebrate our baby’s milestones in peace.”

“You know that’s not possible, love.” Ghost chuckled next to her, offering a single pat to her ass as they headed to the briefing. While neither of them would be going, it was their job to know what was going on during their impending absence. The ruckus started to die down when the couple sat, and the others followed suit. Soap placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, which she thanked him for, and Laswell, Gaz, and Soap filed around the table.

“Kӧnig and Roach should be here shortly,” Price said, bouncing Joan on his lap as Ghost passed out manila folders.

Gaz checked his watch with a furrowed brow. “It’s five past. Maybe they forgot?”

“Just give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll be here.”

“His office was closed, so he’s definitely in there. I can go grab ‘im. It’s no trouble,” he offered, the metal legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.

“Be my guest, Sergeant,” Freyja hummed, making eye contact with John as she sipped her tea, hiding her mischievous grin behind the cup. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, about how long it would take to take ten paces up the hall before she held up five fingers.

“You’re a demon.”

“Five, four, three, two…”

“Verdammt nochmal!”

There’s a loud bang, eerily similar to the sound of a six-foot-six body slamming into the floor. Boots thunder against the ground until Gaz appears in the doorway again, eyes wide and blushing like a madman.

“Genau deshalb habe ich das Militär verlassen, keiner von euch hat den Anstand, verdammt noch mal anzuklopfen!”

“Didn’t knock, did you.”

“Nope.”

“How bad?”

König stomped into the meeting, red as a tomato as he jerked his long, tangled (read: freshly fucked) hair into a knot at the base of his neck before slipping his hood on. Roach walked in behind him, grinning like an absolute idiot (read: clearly the one doing the fucking), albeit a bit flush, and his clothes untucked and wrinkled as he plopped beside John.

“At least I didn’t get knifed this time.”

“Der Tag ist noch jung, Unteroffizier.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounded like a threat.”

“It was,” Freyja sang, her body shaking as she attempted to withhold laughter.

By the time Price had finished divulging the details of the op scheduled for the end of the month (which was also around the time of her c-section, which left Freyja and those deploying disappointed), Joanie had escaped his hold to crawl across the table and landed in her mother’s lap. She sat back against Frey’s round belly, happily gnawing on a teething ring while the captain combed her fingers through her soft, blonde curls.

John cleared his throat and leaned back, tipping the chair on its back legs. “So…In a shocking turn of events, Roach is the top–”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, CAPTAIN?!” Soap screeched after choking on his coffee, leaving a stain on his shirt as it dripped from his nose.

“Oh, mein Gott…”

“I don’t know. What did I say, Sergeant?”

Across the table, Roach held his lips between his teeth as he wheezed, quickly signing, “Only for my king.”

“PLEASE PLÖTZE! Stop talking!” König, finally deciding he’d had enough, shot up from his seat and practically sprinted out of the room, almost bonking his head on the door frame on his way out. A moment later, he stormed back in and snagged his forgotten file awaiting him in Roach’s outstretched hand before turning back out.

Biting his lip, Soap muttered, “Interesting…” to himself, eyeing the Austrian’s retreating form before flicking back over to Roach. The Brit was already looking at him, probably having heard him being sat next to him. He winked with a devilish smirk, and practically purred, “S’alright, happens tae th' best o' us.”

A few days shy of their next mission, and the birth of the newest Riley, the gang gathered around their living room for one last game night before Roach, König, Soap, and John departed for another mission. Roach and König were less than pleased to be missing the birth of their godson, but it couldn’t be helped.

Kyle placed a red eight down on the stack of cards, ending his turn. “C’mon, mate, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done on a mission?” he prodded, raising a brow in Simon’s direction. “You know all our stories. It’s only fair.”

The two shared a knowing look, and Freyja giggled once before Kyle interrupted, “Besides that, you heathens.”

Simon pressed against the kitchen chair he had dragged in for himself, seriously considering what he would consider the most outlandish activity he had partaken in outside of combat. Particularly, that didn’t involve screwing his wife in places they shouldn’t, like public places, sniper lookouts, cars, or supply closets…

Before he could drift too far, he caught the saucy side-eye his wife was throwing him from her deep armchair.

“No.”

Soap peeked up from his hand with a quirked brow. “Does Ghostie have an embarrassing secret? Now we have to know!”

“It’s not a secret, and I’m not embarrassed by it just because I don’t flaunt it around,” he said, shot back the rest of his whiskey, and replaced his mask. Simon didn’t always wear it with their friends; he just so happened to feel inclined to it that night. There was no rhyme or reason as to when he needed the comfort; the urge just came and went as it pleased.

He tried his best to sound completely disinterested, hoping the discussion would blow over as he threw down his card. “Blue.”

Unfortunately, his plan did not work, and all interest in their game of Uno was lost. Kyle threw his hand down on the table, completely giddy. “WHAT IS IT?! TELL US!”

Simon groaned, throwing his cards at his wife, who simply laughed. “See, look what you did.” He sighed and begrudgingly unhooked his mask from behind his ears, tossing that at her too. After a beat, he let his tongue loll out, revealing a silver ball.

Several (if not all) of their jaws dropped, save for Freyja’s, who was utterly thrilled that this was happening.

Johnny was the first to speak. “Is…that…” he stuttered, staring unabashedly in disbelief.

He snapped his mouth shut again once everyone had had a decent look. “Alright, can we move on please–”

The Scot pounced across the space, clearing the coffee table as he knocked Simon out of his chair, taking them both down into a heap on the floor. They wrestled as he tried to dig his fingers into Ghost’s mouth and pry it open again. “LEMME SEE!”

“JOHNNY!” Simon roared, bucking and thrashing his hips in attempt to get the man off, but he quickly scooted up until he sat firmly on his chest, knees pinning his shoulders as he yanked the piercing back out.

“Awe, so that’s why you’re always fuckin’ like horny teenagers! Oh, ah bet that feels good on your cu-”

“SHUT UP, SOAP!” “THAT’LL DO!”

Freyja whipped her slipper at Johnny’s head, which he swiftly dodged. Meanwhile, Gaz was face down on the floor, having a fit and struggling to breathe. Price looked like he would actually rather die than endure another moment of the scene unfolding at his feet. Kӧnig was carefully weaving between people and furniture to remove Soap before he got hurt, and Roach stayed in his spot, mouth open in silent laughter.

Thank God Joanie was a heavy sleeper.

“Are you gonnae sit there ‘n tell meh that a’m wrong? A husband should always eat arse!”

“JOHNNY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Kyle finally caught his breath and cut back in, “But does it WORK?!”

Everybody froze, including Kӧnig, whose hands looped under Johnny’s armpits, about to extract him. From underneath him, Simon glared up at his wife (who started this whole fucking mess). “Freyja–”

But Freyja, being the brat she is and loving the chaos, “…It works.”

Simon covered his face with both of his now freed hands, so utterly sick of her shit as the sergeant shook his shoulders, he and Gaz both screaming like madmen. Kӧnig still hovered over them, ready to remove Johnny if Simon called for it, his red hair up in a neat top knot at the crown of his head. A few strands hung loosely by his ears and at the peak of his forehead, framing his pale skin.

“AAAAAYYYYYY, SO YOU DO GIVE GOOD HEAD!”

He removed his shield at that, looking up at Johnny with a confused expression. “Who said I don’t give good head?”

Price flinched with a crinkled nose and grabbed his hat from the back of the couch. “That’s my cue.”

“Scary guys either have monster cock or scary good head,” Kyle stated as if it were pure fact.

“But he has both.”

“I can’t fucking take this.” Simon finally shoved at Johnny and the Austrian lifted him with ease, standing the Scot back on his feet.

Soap dusted off his pants. “Damn, you’ll have’ta get one’a those, Köni,” he teased and turned to face the giant, looking up at him with a boyish grin.

König’s skin, ever the shy one, immediately painted itself a rosy hue, unable to be hidden by any hood or mask. Even Roach was taken by his brashness and turned a little pink himself, choosing to sip his drink. König was, unfortunately, frozen in place, wide eyes staring down at Johnny’s proud face.

Three seconds pass.

Then two more.

Then three again.

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS THEM?! The threesome you told me about a few weeks ago, was them?”

With nowhere else to go, König collapsed onto the couch and pulled the neck of his sweater over his face. “Verdammter Himmel, Johnny…” If he could crawl into a hole and die, he would.

“What can ah say? M’services are world-class.”

“Can confirm,” Roach added, having put his glass down so he could use both hands to talk.

Johnny raised a brow and dragged his eyes from Roach’s shoes, slowly up his shins, then his thighs and chest before settling on the challenging smirk on his freckled face. “‘S that so?” he asked, stepping into the space between Roach’s knees and the table.

Roach simply nodded, looking up at his boyfriend through hooded lashes, resembling a lovesick puppy with shocking accuracy. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. Roach was a…talented flirt, to say the least.

His glass was carefully removed from his hand and placed on a coaster. Without a second thought, Soap wrapped his fingers around Roach’s wrist, dragged it behind his neck, and tossed the man over his shoulder. Gaz gaped, completely dumbfounded into silence – flabbergasted, if you will. He paused in the entryway, looking over his opposite shoulder.

“You comin’, Kö?”

König, still tucked away in the corner of the couch, peeked out from the cocoon he had created with his sweater. Even his forehead was tinged red, still. He openly stared for a bit before mustering up enough courage to rise again, and in an impossibly meek voice for such a large man, replied, “...Yes, sir,” and loosely tangled their fingers together.

Kyle threw his hands up then dropped them onto his head, dragging his cap back a bit. “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

Freyja offered a sympathetic pat, her bottom lip jutted out. Poor Simon, who had returned to his seat, covered his mouth with one palm as he tried to contain his chuckles. He pulled his mask back on after retrieving it from the floor.

“Don’t worry, Gaz,” she said and poked his cheek. “We’ll find you a nice girl.”

“I GET AROUND FINE!” He swatted her hand away, glowering at her. “You’re all just a bunch of slags!”

He jumped up, abandoning his beer and putting his hat back in place. “Where’s my niece? I need to restore my innocence,” he grumbled, trudging upstairs.

“Simon, did he just call us sluts?”

“Yes, darling.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld

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dorothy-rainbird · 2 years

Text

Literally can’t stop imagining isekai’d reader accidentally appearing in Genshin but before the main story. Like, they appear right in Inazuma when Ei was just done leaving her first prototype puppet-

Coincidentally our reader appears right before Kunikuzushi is about to witness his second betrayal and saves him in a very chaotic scenario.

Did I forget to mention that reader gets to keep the in game abilities and time having a very slow effect on them ( 1 hour in Teyvat= 1 minute to reader’s body) basically making them semi-immortal? Yeah reader is op in this fight me.

____________________

Kunikuzushi walked the streets of Inazuma, fascinated but confused by the world around him. He was all alone with no knowledge on how to blend in….

As he walked he could feel others staring and whispering. He did not like it. He was just wondering what to do next when a loud noise from the stalls behind him caught his attention. He turned around.

In one of the food stalls, a person had just fell into the fruit crates from the above set of stairs. Did they jump? They were groaning while the owner of the stall was yelling at them. They wore…peculiar clothing. In fact they looked very peculiar, so different from everybody else.

Kunikuzushi was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the Shogunate Samurai yelling “GET THEM” from the same place from where the stranger fell. Before he could even blink, the stranger jumped from the crate and ran towards him. They grabbed his wrist and continued their dash.

“Bonjour, I’m here to fuck with the timeline! And you’re included!”, the stranger declared. Kunikuzushi wonders what “fuck” means but with the shogunate samurai on his tail he decides to focus on running instead.

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He was confused and mildly scared that a random stranger just appeared out of nowhere decides to kidnap him.

“NO TIME FOR THAT HONEY JUST HANG ON!”

“???”

Ah, he hadn’t noticed that they are running into a dead end that is a massive wall. The stranger was unfazed tho.

Without stopping, they swooped him up bridal style and JUMPED onto a roof beside them. But because of the samurai still after them, they proceeded to parkour out of the city with Kunikuzushi still in their arms. The lad was screaming the whole time lol.

———————————————

The duo managed to escape the city and reach Chinju forest. The stranger panted for air and carefully let Kunikuzushi down. He scooted a good distance away when they did.

Exhausted, the stranger crotched down in front of him, still breathing loudly.

“W-who are you and why did you kidnap me??” Kunikuzushi fearfully asked again, but this this time there were a few sparks of electro around him…

Better start explaining.

“Listen pal, you don’t have to be scared. I ain’t gonna hurt you-“

“Then why did you kidnap me!”

“As I said, I’m not gonna hurt you. If I wanted so then I could have done it the way here.” The stranger replied with a poker face. Kunikuzushi gulped.

“Well then why were you being chased a-and…why did you kidnap me…?”

The stranger huffed and sat down.

“Guess I better explain it to you then…” they met his eyes, he was cautious. Speak wisely.

“*Ahem* Uh…well..you see…” He was staring intently. Don’t slip up about the game’s story or anything about the whole game in fact.

“I’m your…uh…guardian-“

“Guardian?”

“Uh- angel!”

“Guardian angel?” He tilted his head curiously.

“NO! I mean- I’m definitely anything but an angel h-haha..”

“You’re a d-demon?” His fear was back.

“NO NO! I’m uh…your guardian…” they looked into his eyes. And then finally spoke.

“FRIEND!”

“…..??”

“…I’m your guardian friend!”

A very awkward silence rung into ears. He stared. For a good few seconds until…

“You’re my…guardian friend?” He asked, a small curiosity in his eyes.

“YES! I mean- yeah, pretty much.” They smiled.

“B-but…is it normal for friends to kidnap each other??”

Fuck.

How are they going to explain that?

Well, worth a shot.

They took a deep breath and-

“Well you see…guardian friends are very special creatures. They are barely seen in Teyvat. And when the samurai saw me, they thought I was some sort of immigrant and tried to arrest me. I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you normally-“

“How do I know you are my guardian friend? Or how do I know if they actually exist and you’re not some crazy person? And what even was that “fucking with timeline” thing?” He was cautious again but the curiosity never left his eyes.

The stranger smirked. Time to put that in game knowledge in use, eh?

“I’m a person from the future version of Teyvat. Every once a while. Special people are chosen to time travel back into time to do whatever they want. I chose to be your guardian friend because you definitely need one. How would you explain my attire?” The stranger began explaining but Kunikuzushi had his doubts. He was about to interrupt when-

“I also know you like the back of my hand Kunikuzushi.”

He froze. The stranger continued.

“Let’s see, made as a prototype puppet for gnosis but-“

“OKAY OKAY I BELIEVE YOU” He quickly stopped them.

“Heh, you do?” The amused stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah…but tell me, what do guardian friends do? I’ve never heard of them.”

With that question the stranger started giggling. Kunikuzushi tilted his head. Did he ask something weird? The stranger got up and with a cheerful smile,

“Ohohoho! That’s simple my friend! Guardian friends are just like guardian angels but more fun!”

“More….fun…?”

“Yep, we basically guide you and all but also provide company. Like a partner in your shenanigans. A friend! An amigo! A chum! A family!”

“A…family..?” He asked confused.

“Oh…do you not know what a family is?”

“No. What is a family?”

The stranger sighed with a small smile and offered him a hand. He was hesitant for a second but took it.

“Join me for a walk buddy, I’ll explain everything.”

He nodded and they strolled around the forest, hand in hand.

“A family is a special person, or a group of people. Don’t matter if human or animal.” The stranger plucked a flower and tucked it in his hair.

“They feel familiar. They feel comfortable. Like the warmth of a small flame.”

A few crytalflies fluttered overhead.

“No matter what happens you can always return to them. They are your home, somewhere you can rest when you are tired of the world.”

“…Do I have a family?”

“Not yet, but you do have a friend.”

“Can friends be family..?”

“They can.”

“So are you my family?”

“That is up to you to accept me as one.”

…..

A comfortable silence was enjoyed as the two friends sat underneath a tree, watching the glowing plants and creatures of the forest.

“I never got your name.”

“It’s y/n.”

_________________

BONUS

Kunikuzushi: Y/n what does “fuck” mean?

Y/n: *chokes on air*

Also here is part 2

#genshin scara #genshin impact #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin x reader #genshin isekai #isekai #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

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greatstormcat · 6 months

Text

A Reason To Go On - Part 3

Stalker!Ghost x f!reader

Masterlist

Author’s note: thanks to my ☕️ anon for recommending Stalkers Tango by Autoheart

TW: MDNI 18+, darkfic, stalking and obsessive behaviour, smut, drugging, kidnap, mental health issues

Simon was feeling more sure of himself now, he was planning something. It wasn’t exactly the same as planning an op, but it felt similar enough that it was comforting, familiar. The more time he devoted to you, the more he felt he was grounded, not floating in the endless chaos of civilian life, and the less he dwelt on his own demons. You were good for him, and he wanted to be good for you in the best way he knew how.

Right now that meant following you down the highstreet as you went shopping with a friend. Not the one who convinced you to go to that bar, he was pleased to see, someone else. The two of you had been in and out of shops for the past hour, he had hung back, keeping an eye on you from a distance but always close by.

He glances down at his watch and notes the time. If he knows you by now, and he thinks he does, you’ll suggest stopping at a cafe soon. Sure enough, he sees you turn to your friend and you both leave the boutique and head next door to the little coffee shop. Simon smiles happily, he knows you so well now. This is going perfectly.

While he stands waiting across the road from the cafe Simon’s phone rings, and he checks the screen. Its Price, again. He answers the call as you aren’t going to be going anywhere for a while, and he has ignored Price twice already today. He tries to keep the conversation as brief as possible, single word answers as much as he can get away with but it isn’t working this time.

“What exactly are you calling for?” He asks bluntly, watching the silhouette of your head through the window over the road.

“I called to say I can stop by day after tomorrow, we got stood down at the last minute. Could even bring Gaz if you like?” Price asked with a painfully obvious tinge of hope that Simon would be pleased to see his old teammate.

“No, I’m busy,” he told Price. “Got a hobby, like you said so I won’t be around for a while.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, watching you carefully as he watched you order your usual drink and food. There was a pause on the other end of the phone, clearly Price wasn’t expecting that answer and Simon allowed himself to feel smug at shocking the man.

“Well… okay then,” Price recovers, sounding slightly confused, “another time maybe?”

“Sure,” Simon answers and refuses to speak further, wanting the conversation to be over. Price gives up and says his goodbyes, letting Simon stuff the phone back into his pocket gratefully. The more time went by the more he wanted to distance himself from Price, Gaz, J… the memories. You were so much more to him now, his future, and he could finally see how that was going to happen.

Eventually you get up and he sees you hugging your friend goodbye, you’re parting ways. As he watches, your friend leaves first while you search your bag for something, and crosses the road to stand outside the doorway. He lingers there looking at his phone to appear a casual bystander until you walk out past him,

You start crossing the road, and Simon can see from his position that a bike courier is hurtling around the corner towards you with no sign of slowing down. On instinct he surges forward and grabs your arm, yanking you back hard and making you shout in shock. The courier hurtles past yelling an apology and clipping your bag, nearly ripping it out of your grip.

“You okay?,” Simon mumbles, still holding onto your arm carefully as the adrenaline of the moment courses through you and scrambles your thoughts. When you look up and smile in relief Simon feels as though his entire being is flooded with the warmth of your expression, and the genuine gratitude you express for saving you. When you squeeze his hand in thanks, breathing heavy with shock, his mind rushes back to the heat and intensity of the night you let him into your bed and his dick hardens in response.

It is only after he leaves that a tiny thought in your head surfaces telling you that his voice was familiar, but the clamour of other noises around you makes it too hard to be certain when he only said a few words. It leaves you with a slight uneasiness though, and the rest of the day you find yourself looking over your shoulder for the kind, tall stranger.

A few days later Simon stands with his hands on his hips surveying the renovations he has done. He has spent hours and hours preparing the spare room of his flat, carefully selecting the furniture, the decor, all to suit your tastes. Countless YouTube tutorials have been watched and rewatched so he can do everything perfectly from painting the walls to hanging curtains and fitting the lock. He has planned to take some of your things from your home to put in there so you’d feel at ease, comfortable and cared for with him.

With your new home prepared, he only needs to get you here, and that’s going to be the difficult part. He knows he can’t just expect you to willingly drop everything and come here, he knows he can’t just grab you from your commute home. He does have the experience in taking people against their will, the skills to subdue someone with fear and intimidation, but he cares too much about you to do that. The image of your face looking at him filled with light and gratitude has burned itself into his mind, he wants more of that, he wants to see that every waking moment of every day for the rest of his life.

Simon rubs a hand across his tired face and goes to the kitchen to get a drink of water. He moves the tools aside where he has installed locks on the drawers so the knives are kept away from you, just in case. He needs a safe way to get you here, and there’s only one way he can think of, although it carries its own risks.

It was painfully easy to get the pills he needed, more evidence to Simon that what had planned was in your best interests. All he had to do was spend a few evenings at a variety of bars, watching for desperate young men paying too much attention to the women around them. Some bars were great at protecting their patrons and he made a note of those, could be nice to bring you to one of those another time on a… date. He chuckled at the thought of taking you on a date, it was nice.

The seedier bars didn’t do any such thing though, and he quickly spotted the predators in the crowd.

It was easy enough to follow one of them, rough him up a bit and take what he needed, leaving the pathetic would-be rapist without the tools of his trade. He wonders if he should have taken away more than that, but he needs to focus on one task at a time.

Things were progressing well when suddenly, Simon found out you were going away. He stares at his laptop screen, cold dread settling into the pit of his stomach as he sees an update on your social media. A countdown for a holiday with a group of friends. Panic trickles, icy cold into his bloodstream and he gets up, pacing around the sparse living room of his flat. You can’t go away, you can’t leave him like this, he can’t follow you and keep you safe if you go away.

Simon looks at the crumpled bag on his coffee table, tiny white pills inside that he can use to knock you out and bring you to the safety of his flat. An image of you sleeping soundly in the bed he built for you cloud his mind. Seeing your soft and vulnerable form tucked under the warm blankets he had bought for you, feeding you by hand when you wake and watching you look at him with contentment and joy. He feels his cock twitching in his boxers, imagining how you’d repay him for all of this.

The part of his brain that still thinks clearly warns him this is wrong, this isn’t what a sane man would be doing or thinking, that he is obsessing over you. It tells him to phone Price, to get help, but he snarls and grabs his jacket and keys. With a final glance back at the door to the spare room he pockets the bag of pills and leaves.

You come home from work, it’s late and dark outside, and you reach past the door to switch on the lights but nothing happens when you flick the switch. You curse to yourself and kick off your shoes, making your way into the house to try another light. You flick that switch and nothing happens. With an annoyed huff you decide there must be a power cut and peer out the kitchen window, seeing the light on next door you frown as the neighbours have power.

Thinking little more of it you turn and head back through the living room, and something catches your eye. In the mirror over the mantelpiece you see him standing by the stairs, wreathed in shadows, only his eyes visible through the black balaclava he wears. You lock eyes with him, your spine tingling with fear and the urge to bolt towards the door, but you hold yourself still.

“Ghost?” You ask, hating the quavering of your voice. “Did you do something to the electricity?” You start to turn around.

“Stop,” he says, low and rough but you hear it clearly and obey out of sheer terror. The atmosphere is tense, this isn’t like the last time you saw him, something is off.

“Are you okay?” You ask carefully.

He comes up behind you, placing his hands on either side of your neck and leaning closer to your ear, but maintaining eye contact in the mirror.

“Do you like me keeping you safe?” He asks, gravely voice low. You swallow thickly and nod slowly.

“That was you the other day wasn’t it? When the cyclist nearly hit me,” you ask, ignoring his question. His eyes narrow slightly as you ask, but it’s hard to tell if it’s with annoyance at the fact you didn’t answer him. His hands slip around your neck more firmly, not restricting, just holding you.

“Yeah, it was,” he grunts after a moment. “I’m always watching out for you,” he adds.

“Then yes, I like you keeping me safe,” you smile at his reflection, trying to keep your tone light despite the knot of fear in your stomach. Something else, something darker, curls around the fear and you try not to think about it, try to push it down.

“You saw my face,” he says, and you feel the tension in his fingers tighten ever so slightly, pressing against your throat triggering another nervous swallow.

“Umm…. Briefly,” you hedge but you know it’s pointless saying you didn’t. You couldn’t remember his features, it was such a shock at the time, but you remember blonde hair and scars.

“Pull the mask off.”

You reach back tentatively and grasp the fabric at the crown of his head, pulling it off. His smirking face his revealed to you, blonde hair and scars as you saw him a few days before. His features are strong, handsome despite the marks.

He steps in front of you, hands trailing around your neck as he moves and causing a shiver to run down your spine. The dark feeling in the pit of your stomach wars with your fear, creating a type of arousal you didn’t know you could feel.

Simon notices you glancing at his lips, the corner of his mouth lifting in a wicked smile at your response to him. He uses his grip around your neck to pull you in, close enough to feel his breath on your skin.

“Don’t want me to take care of you?” He asks darkly.

“Yes,” you whisper, unaware of the danger you are putting yourself into.

He kisses you, a deep and hungry kiss that has him forcing his tongue into your mouth without giving you a second to think. His hands begin to pull and strip you of your clothing as his lips rob you of your breath, and the dark desire in you takes over.

You nip at his bottom lip, catching the flesh and drawing a growl from him.

He forces you back against the sofa, legs forced wide to allow room for his shoulders, and his mouth descends hot and needy against your pussy. You feel his tongue and teeth across the tender flesh as he kisses and nips at you. His hands press into your thighs, fingertips leaving livid marks as he grips you and keeps you in place. You gasp when you feel the hot muscle of his tongue swiping over your clit, jerking your hips at the shock of pleasure each time.

Before long, you feel him moving up your body, the head of his cock sliding through the mixture of slick and saliva, nudging against your clit. He keeps his grip on one thigh, holding it up so he can press into you, his thickness stretching you open and making you keen at the intrusion.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he soothes you without slowing down, bullying his way into you until his tight balls rest against your ass. “So fucking good,” he groans, rocking his hips slightly while your muscles tighten around his length.

He buries his face against your neck, letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders before he draws his hips back and slams them forward again.

Simon keeps a firm grip on your leg, holding it up so he can pound himself into your dripping cunt. The wall shudders with every thrust, picture frames knocking against the plaster in time with your reedy whines of pleasure as the sofa bangs against it.

Your nails bite into his back, red welts scoring his skin as you fight to hold on against the intensity that he fucks you with. His pelvis hits against your swollen clit, sparking lightning bolts with every thrust that stretches your pussy, driving you headlong toward orgasm.

Simon feels you clenching tighter and tighter around him, squeezing his cock to the point of pain but he can’t stop. He needs to feel you cum, to feel you needing what he has to give you. When your orgasm hits, you arch from the sofa, muscles tight and flooded with ecstasy while he still fucks into you, milking the orgasm from him until you are both left sweating and breathless.

“Stay there a moment," he says, settling you down gently and wrapping you in a blanket, before disappearing to the kitchen. He brings a glass of lemonade, handing the sparkling drink to you and you gulp it down gratefully.

He sits beside you and cradles you against his side, running his hand along the soft curve of your hip and you feel content.

You sigh, feeling your eyes drooping heavily, a deep lethargy passing over your body. You try to lift your head to look at your Ghost, but its hard to move it. You frown, try to speak but your words slur, and Ghost holds you tighter against him murmuring comforting words as you feel yourself pass out.

It’s impossible to know how long you were unconscious, but you slowly resurface from the drugged sleep, warm and cozy. For a fleeting moment you think you dreamed what happened, but the pleasant, dull aching between your legs soon makes it clear you hadn’t.

Fighting to open your eyes, you immediately know you aren’t at home. You don’t know the room you are in, or the bed you’ve been tucked into, but you recognise your suitcase and wash bag by the door.

You sit bolt upright, causing your head to spin slightly, and that when you see him lying on the bed beside you at arm's length.

“What have you done? Where are we?!” You cry out in horror, shuffling off the bed away from him. He gets up slowly and you bolt for the door, grabbing the handle you find locked. You pull at the handle with all your might, terror giving you added strength but to no avail.

“Try to stay calm,” your Ghost’s deep voice startles you right behind you, and you turn pressing your back against the wall.

“So I’m your prisoner now?” You cry in anguish.

“You’re not a prisoner, I just,” he pauses, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I just thought it’s easier to keep you safe if you’re with me. If you’re not with me, I’d rather you were here so I know you’re okay.”

“So I can leave whenever I want?” You demand.

“As long as I’m with you, yes.” Panic rises like bile in your throat.

“I can’t leave unless it’s with you? I can’t just… go home?” You push him. He doesn’t answer, just stands there like a granite carving, just as immovable and cold. “Answer the fucking question!” You yell, spittle flying from your mouth and you jab a finger towards him not caring if he were to grab it and snap it off.

“No,” he replies. “You’re staying with me, permanently. It’s better this way.”

Rage boils through you, burning away the icy dread that had filled you up to this point. It blinds you and shuts down your thoughts as you scream and launch yourself at him, hammered and clawing at him. If you had the capacity for rational thought you’d realise this was pointless, almost suicidal, he could snap your neck with his bare hands. The rage by-basses your logical brain and cuts straight to your animal urge not to be trapped.

Simon doesn’t defend himself though, he lets you beat against him and scratch his skin, he knows you need to get it out of your system so you can accept what he is doing is the right thing. He lets you tire yourself out, let’s the angry screaming turn to choked sobs, tears coursing down your face which he will dry. Only he will now.

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” he says quietly and holds you against his chest while you shake and weep. His large hands gently stroke your hair and he holds you close, closing his eyes as he feels you pressed against him.

“What do you want from me?” You hiccup.

“I know the situation’s strange, it’ll take a little getting used to,” he replies gently.

“What do you want?” You repeat with more firmness in your voice.

“Love me,” he whispers.

—————————————————————————————————————-

Taglist: @lilpothoscuttings @bravo-001 @ghosts-cyphera @katamari-possum @kkaaaagt @ladygoth @ivoovu @rambo832 @tumblinginoz @edenexisting @waka-umm @idk179634 @allllium @hexqueensupreme

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buggysangel17 · 8 months

Text

The Bride of A Warlord

Summary: You have arrived to what you now call your new home, it was scary and confusing, but at least you have someone else to keep you company. Characters: Dracule Mihawk x Wife!Female Reader (Amihan). Perona Word Count: 1,198 Chapter Warnings: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence (I am still in episode 20 of OP Anime so please bear with me on the fucked up timeline of events here)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

You were consumed by a cocktail of fear and excitement.

But that was only natural to feel in your current predicament. Taken from your home due to circumstance that was no longer in your control. You turned to what you now call your husband. Dracule Mihawk was a man not to be trifled with, one of the Seven Warlords and dubbed the Greatest Swordsman in the world.

“I will have your room prepared as soon as possible.” Mihawk spoke, interrupting you from your train of thoughts.

All you could do was nod. You were taken from your own home, miles away from what you had once been so familiar with, a place that you had deemed had become your own prison. Any form of freedom you would take, even if it means being under the circumstantial marriage with one Warlord such as Mihawk.

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, having no right to complain or react negatively for a short wait.

Even without looking at him, you’ve noticed his sharp yellow eyes glued fall to you. Turning to looking up at him, you noticed his narrowed eyes, a frown that was something you had gotten so used to rest on his lips.

“You will call me by my name, I do not agree to have you calling me of anything else while under you are under my care.”

You gulped, but nodded your head in agreement. This man, as handsome as he was, still scared you. Having caught firsthand the destruction his sword could make to your entire island should his will make it.

“You are not here as my prisoner, you can freely explore the castle should you wish to do so. All I ask is you not to leave unless you tell me or have me to accompany you, is that understood?”

“Yes—Mihawk.” You responded quickly.

As you step off the grandiose boat onto the rocky shore of Kuraigana Island, your heard races with anticipation and uncertainty. The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and new adventure, but it’s the sight before you that leaves you breathless. Your new husband’s castle, looms high above, perched on a ragged cliff that seems to defy gravity.

The castle is a dark, imposing fortress, its jagged spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a giant’s skeletal hands. The stone walls are as grey and foreboding as the thunderclouds that hover over the island. You can’t help but shudder at the stark contrast between the castle and the vibrant, tropical island that surrounds it.

Your arrival has not gone unnoticed. From the castle's towering parapets, you catch glimpses of shadowy figures watching your every move. As you start to climb the narrow, winding path that leads to the castle gates, your footsteps echo in the eerie silence.

The closer you get, the more details you can make out. The castle is adorned with intricate, Gothic architecture, with gargoyles leering down from the eaves. The windows are narrow and slit-like, like the eyes of a predator, and they seem to be keeping a watchful gaze on you. The walls are covered in ivy and moss, as if nature itself is trying to reclaim this imposing structure.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease as you approach the massive, iron-bound gates. The air feels heavy with centuries of history, and you can't shake the feeling that the castle holds secrets, both wondrous and sinister, within its ancient walls.

As the gates slowly creak open, revealing the cavernous darkness beyond, your heart pounds in your chest. You have entered a world unlike any you have ever known, a world of mystery and danger. And as you step across the threshold, you can't help but wonder what awaits you in this forbidding castle on Kuraigana Island.

As you step through the imposing gates of Mihawk's castle, your heart is still pounding with trepidation. The exterior of the castle had filled you with a sense of foreboding, but as you cross the threshold and enter the grand foyer, you are struck by a stark contrast.

The interior of the castle is a complete surprise. The space is bathed in warm, inviting light that spills from ornate chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. Elaborate tapestries hang on the walls, depicting scenes of epic battles and exotic landscapes. The polished marble floors beneath your feet reflect the glow of the many candles that line the corridor leading deeper into the castle.

Your husband, Mihawk, takes your hand and leads you forward, his expression unreadable. His grip is reassuring, grounding you in this unexpected change of atmosphere. You exchange a glance with him, and for a moment, you both share a silent understanding of the paradoxical nature of the castle.

The air inside is fragrant with the scent of fresh flowers, and the walls are adorned with vibrant paintings and delicate porcelain vases filled with blossoms.

As you explore the interior of the castle, you discover cozy sitting rooms with plush sofas and grand dining halls set with opulent feasts. The contrast between the grim exterior and the opulent interior is almost surreal, and you can't help but marvel at the transformation.

Mihawk guides you to a balcony overlooking a breathtaking garden bathed in moonlight. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you realize that the castle holds a world of beauty and wonder that you could not have imagined.

As you stand together on the balcony, surrounded by the enchanting sights and sounds of the castle, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope and excitement for the future that awaits you here, in this magical, enigmatic place.

It wasn’t your home, no, far from it, but with this new found freedom, all you could think of right now is what the world could possibly be able to give you now.

“You have a guest along? That’s surprising from you.”

You tensed, immediately finding yourself stepping closer to the man you now call your husband. Turning to the owner of the voice, the sight of a pink-haired girl over a decade younger than you had floated towards your direction with what you think were ghost accompanying her.

“Not a guest.” Mihawk explained his gaze was on you, you tensed as his hand had rested on the small of your back. “My wife.” He introduce without much of a hesitation in his tone.

“Wife?!” The girl gaped and was immediately all over you, questioning you and your life decisions and how much of a sour sport Mihawk was to her especially as he had left her all alone in the castle.

“You have a daughter?” You inquired.

“No, just an unwelcomed guest.” He explained earning the offense of the girl that you now learned was named Perona. “But she will keep you company for the instance that I will be out for a while.”

You nodded turning your attention to the package that came with now living in the same home, in the same castle, and in the same Island as your new husband. It was a chaos that you were slowly but surely coming to enjoy as time goes by.

553 notes · View notes

slayfics · 4 days

Text

Hitoshi offers to stay.

950 words

You puttered around your new apartment tending to your guests. Having a party with the rest of your pro-hero friends seemed like a good idea to celebrate your new place. However, you failed to remember that the one thing about heroes is they work hard and drink harder.

Getting everyone together to celebrate soon resulted in your apartment being filled with drunk friends. Laughing, dancing, catching up, but also plenty of alcohol spills.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry in your new place too,” Mina apologized, eyes glazed over from the alcohol, she looked around the room for some napkins.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it! I’ll be right back,” you assured her and quickly took off for the kitchen.

You rounded the corner too fast, in a hurry, and half buzzed. Trying as quickly as possible to clean the spill, you weren’t paying attention and crashed into Hitoshi.

His red solo cup squashed between you both soaking his shirt.

“Shit! I’m so sorry Shinso,” you apologized backing up embarrassed.

“It’s alright,” he replied, glancing down at his drenched shirt.

“I got to clean up a spill in the living room, but then I’ll come back to remake your drink!” You said hurriedly grabbing the napkins.

“You don’t have to,” he replied, but you had already vanished back into the living room.

Mina continued to apologize as she bent down to the floor with you to soak up the spill.

“Don’t worry about it, accidents were bound to happen with all of us together again,” you laughed.

Mina giggled, “Guess we both need another drink, don’t we?” She suggested.

“I actually bulldozed into Shinso so, I’m going back to remake his drink. I’ll bring you back one too,” you offered.

Mina glanced up at you, ready to make a joke but you had already grabbed the soiled napkins and headed back to the kitchen.

When you entered the kitchen, Hitoshi had already remade the drink you spilled.

“I told you I’d remake it for you,” you spoke, alerting his attention.

“It’s fine, seems you got your hands full,” he commented, noticing your out of breath appearance.

“Let me at least get you a shirt and dry that one up,” you offered. “I’ve got a clean oversized t-shirt somewhere.”

Hitoshi smiled; it was sweet you were so persistent. He really didn’t care about his wet shirt, but he didn’t mind you wanting to tend to him.

“Alright, if you feel so inclined,” he agreed.

“Ok come with me,” you motioned for him to follow you to your room.

You poked around the room searching for a shirt that would fit him, while Hitoshi gazed around your room. Most of your things still in boxes. Very few items decorated your room, but on the bed a stuffed animal was laid out neatly. Something about that was cute and innocent. It made him feel as though he was stealing glances into your private life.

“Here you go! I think this one should fit, at least while I throw yours in the dryer,” you declared, holding up a plain black t-shirt that you sometimes used for bed. “I promise it’s clean.”

“Hold this for me for a second?” He asked handing you his drink. You grabbed the solo cup from him, and Hitoshi pulled off his soaked shirt.

“Oh,” you mewled out accidentally. Maybe it was the buzz you had going, but the sight of Hitoshi shirtless made your fingers tighten around the solo cup. The spill from the alcohol caused his toned abs to glisten in the low light of your room. Hitoshi peered up at you, an eyebrow raised at your reaction.

“Sorry!” You blurted out, “You um- must be doing a lot of hero work, you look good.” You said honestly.

“Thank you,” he replied, cheeks turning rosy at your compliment.

“Oh, uh here,” you handed him the dry shirt, hands shaking. It was clear you were nervous.

Hitoshi thought it was amusing. A beautiful woman like you nervous because of him? He couldn’t deny how much he loved it.

Grabbing the shirt from you, your bedroom door suddenly bursts open.

“Ops,” Mina giggled. “Was wondering when you were coming back with my drink. Didn’t realize I was interrupting,” she commented glancing over at Hitoshi who was still shirtless.

Your face darkened with embarrassment, “No! I was just giving him a dry shirt!” You explained.

“Uh hu, sure sure,” Mina laughed, leaving and closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry!” You said to Hitoshi, face completely scarlet.

“Do you always apologize this much?” he asked, finally grabbing and putting on the dry shirt. “I haven’t seen you relax since I got here. Everyone seems to be letting loose but you.”

You let a sigh, and what felt like the first time since the party took in a breath. “To be honest I thought it would be fun to celebrate my new place with everyone but- it’s turning out to be overwhelming.”

“Mm,” Hitoshi hummed understanding. “It’s definitely a rambunctious group. Hard to keep up with all that energy.”

“Exactly! I’m trying to be a good host but I’m exhausted.” You confessed.

“If you’d like I’ll stay till everyone leaves and help clean up,” Hitoshi offered.

Your eyes flashed to his. Was that an innocent offer, you wondered? If his kindness had an ulterior motive, his lilac eyes gave nothing away. His gaze rested on you lazily, with a calmness that you envied.

You swallowed as your mind raced at the possible implications, deciding to accept his help.

“Yeah… I’d like that,” you smiled, part of you hoping Hitoshi did have another reason for wanting to stay.

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams

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pennyellee · 8 months

Text

CHAPTER V - paraprosexia

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, , manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of feminism, spanking, kidnapping, drug use, alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, mentions of abuse, abduction

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV CHAPTER VI

paraprosexia (n.) constant distraction

The rhythmic hum of the Cadillac’s engine created a soothing backdrop as the vehicle glided along the quiet road. The silence between them was thick, pregnant with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi has decided that he isn't done peeling away the layers shrouding his fiancée’s thoughts, and for the last time, before they become each other’s for this lifetime and many others, he wishes to have a peek into her soul.

“We never concluded our earlier conversation,” his voice laced with a gentle yet probing tone. He wished to hear the truth before he could tell her his own. Yoongi was trying to stay focused on the road, as he decided to drive them himself, selfishly wanting another private moment with her before they part to get ready for the wedding and see each other at the temple’s altar.

She took a deep breath, her voice soft yet resolute. “What do you want to hear?” She asked him the same question she did to Namjoon, but she knew he would pry even more than his younger brother.

“What haunts you, my dear?” Y/N’s eyes met his for a brief moment, a mix of vulnerability and determination shining within them. He thought that perhaps if he could get her to confide in him, he would solve whatever obstacle is keeping her from trying to take him inside her heart.

Y/N looked down at her fingers “Namjoon asked me the same question, you know.” He hummed in agreement encouraging her to continue. If she hadn’t confessed to Namjoon, she might have to him. “I wanted my life to take a different route.” She did not lie, this was very truthful, but not the whole truth.

“A rather enigmatic statement, my dear” Y/N knew that, and she wished it could stay vague. “You were born with the knowledge that one day you’ll become someone’s wife and I find it hard to believe that you would be able to live a life out of the syndicate—”

She didn’t shy away, fully realising his words were truthful to some degree. Her gaze directed down at her intertwined fingers. “You presume right,” she admitted.

“—It’s maybe where your dreams take you, but I promise that even if you would be able to run away from all this, you would not survive.” The dim lighting inside the car played upon the contours of his face, highlighting the sharp angles and furrowed brows that spoke of the weight he carried upon his shoulders.

“Why would you think so?” She asked, curious what he has to say.

“Everyone knows who you are. You wouldn’t even blink and I would know exactly where you are—” he begun “—in the best scenario, of course, the worst would be the Yakuza clan, or any other syndicate got to you first—”

“You mean all your enemies?” she stumbled out of her.

“Yes?” He questioned.

“Is this what you’re scared of? My enemies?” He didn’t hesitate to ask. She kept her silence for a moment. “You’re safer with me than alone, at least remember that.”

“—it’s not. If you would want me on the brink of death I would be already there.” Y/N cut him off. Part of her is relieved that she did not end up being married off to the Yakuza that is well known for their strict and beastly behaviour against women. The other part of her is in constant fear.

“What is it then?” He asked softly. Yoongi wanted her to know that she could talk to him freely, without judgment. He longs to be one with her, body, and soul, desperately trying to make her confined in him as his lover.

“It’s—” It was hard for Y/N to open up to him, she feels vulnerable, “—the uncertainty, the feeling that I’m being swept away by a current I have no control over.” Y/N’s gaze wandered outside the window, the passing scenery a blur of shadows and fleeting glimpses of moonlit snow-covered fields. Looking at him at this second would be too much to bear for her.

“During college, I just got used to being autonomous,” she continued. Yoongi carefully listened to her confession while he was gripping the wheel and focusing on the road.

“But you knew that you were still bound by duty and loyalty.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She knew very well what awaited her after her studies, yet still hoped that it would turn out differently.

“I did, but I didn’t want to lose that kind of life either,” she said softly. Autonomy has a huge role in one’s life. Y/N got a taste of what it is to live a normal life, away from bloodshed, clan wars, torture and the endless screams that echoed through the mansions; negotiations and forced marriages. All that she wished to not associate with.

As the car continued to roll through the night their conversation was not near its end. “I’m just not ready to be someone’s wife nor mother, and not on the head council of the clan,” she exclaimed. Yoongi sighed, pulling to stop at the side of the road, letting the engine still roar. He wanted to look into her beautiful eyes.

The scarred leader turned to her petite form sitting in the passenger seat. “You won’t believe me now, but I do understand where this comes from—” he reached out, his hand gently touching hers, providing a comforting reassurance “—you’re young, and this feeling will pass away, all the doubts too, just let me show you what a good life I can give you,” their eyes locked.

“The path we are destined to tread can lead to unexpected joys and fulfilment. I promise you’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” He stressed out.

“It’s all so easy for you to say, you lived, and I had three years. I wanted to see more of what life could be. I wanted to see the world—”

“I can give you the world, princess,” he said.

“As long as I stay,” she said, her voice shaking. Yoongi slowly nodded in agreement, caressing her cheek. “Let me love you Y/N—”

“Everything alright, Kkangpae?” Said a subdued voice outside the vehicle. Yoongi opened the door slightly, replying with a simple ‘We needed a moment’. And with that, he gets back on the road, getting closer and closer to her biggest fear.

The clock’s hands had long passed the threshold of midnight when they arrived in front of the imposing hotel. Accepting his hand as she stepped out of the car, her gaze swept over the swarm of men and women moving feverishly around the temple’s grounds, getting everything ready for the grand wedding.

“By morning, everything will be in place, Kkangpae,” a voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. She turned her attention to her cousin, Kai, whom she hadn’t seen for some time, giving Y/N a light smile before continuing talking to Yoongi.

Walking by Yoongi’s side with a demeanour as composed as a statue, Y/N seemed to be a mere spectator in the bustling landscape of preparations. She could feel his burning touch on the small of her back.

“Unnie!!” She recognised the voice like it was yesterday she heard it. She opened her arms, a welcoming embrace for the younger sister she hadn’t seen in too long. Their bond was immediate, and Y/N clung to Xiaoli, a mix of protectiveness and adoration welling within her, caressing her hair, smiling while doing so. She missed her little sister dearly. It was just a few months, and Y/N could already sense how much she changed. Wang Xiaoli was the most beautiful girl Y/N had ever seen in her life. Freshly turning eighteen, she could see the newfound aura of femininity.

“Why are you still awake, pumpkin?” Y/N’s voice was infused with a comforting warmth. The endearment was as familiar to them as the air they breathed. Y/N could not help but always baby her little sister whenever she had the chance.

“I was having a conversation with Taehyung-oppa.” She smiled at her sweetly. Xiaoli’s response was tinged with a hint of excitement, a radiance in her eyes that had been absent before. Breaking into Korean instead of their native Chinese. Y/N’s own transition to speaking in Korean had been a necessary evolution, therefore Y/N did not realise that her sister is not speaking their native tongue right away. She did not expect Xiaoli to be comfortable conversing in Korean, not speaking of the hanbok that was hiding her figure. But with the name of one of the seven, she understood why her sister voluntarily spoke to her in the tongue of her captor.

“Did you?” She glanced at Yoongi who still stood next to her, talking to Kai.

“Oh my God, I apologise!” Xiaoli’s exclamation sliced through the air, her sudden realization causing her to pivot toward Yoongi.

“Good late night, Kkangpae Min,” the words flowed from her sister’s lips, accompanied by a respectful bow. Y/N’s attention remained on the scene unfolding before her. Watching Yoongi extend his hand, which she took into her small ones, bowing her head once more. Yoongi enjoyed being at the top of the world. And he knew he would go even higher tomorrow night.

“Miss Wang, how are you this late evening?” he asked politely.

“Very well, Kkangpae Min. I can be with my sister again. I’m very happy.” Xiaoli couldn’t stop smiling. There was a big difference between Xiaoli and Y/N — Xiaoli’s acceptance and Y/N’s defiance. Xiaoli never dreamt of leaving the syndicate. She was very eager to get married, have kids, and be a wife.

Y/N wanted to marry one day. But she longed to have the freedom to decide when, where and whom she would marry. And apart from Y/N, Xiaoli forgave more easily than Y/N. It was in her nature that Y/N wanted to protect.

She wanted her sister to be happy with whatever life she chose to live. If she wanted a life like her, she would do anything to help her do so. But Xiaoli never understood Y/N’s desire for freedom. Y/N understood that Xiaoli never got the taste of it in the first place. Her sister graciously accepted her faith as a mafia wife while Y/N felt oppressed to do so.

However, there was something off about her. Y/N had a third sense that something isn’t as it should be.

“Do you think I could speak to my sister privately, Kkangpae Min?” Xiaoli asked suddenly.

“Don’t be long. Y/N needs to sleep well tonight.” As if she would be able to fall asleep altogether.

“Thank you, Kkangpae Min.” She bowed down again, Xiaoli’s grasp on her hand was firm, tugging her toward the sunroom where memories lingered.

“Y/N?” They stopped for a moment, hearing Yoongi’s voice. She reluctantly turned herself back to him, awaiting his next words.

“Yes?” She said softly, scared that he would change his mind and wouldn’t let them have a sisterly talk after so long.

“Come to my office before you go to sleep, baby.” He replied with a low tone. It seemed to her that he still wanted to talk to her about something. Y/N nodded before her sister continued walking away.

“Yamamoto’s are apparently still furious,” her sister’s words hung in the air like a chilling wind, carrying with them a sense of impending doom. After the door to the sunroom that was now illuminated by moonlight instead, closed, Xiaoli spoke freely. Y/N had expected nothing less from the Yamamoto clan; Yoongi’s bold move had stirred a hornet’s nest, and he showed no remorse for his actions.

“Furious enough to ask for compensation.” Xiaoli continued. Y/N’s eyes widened, dread seeping into her veins like a slow poison.

“Compensation?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“I believe you understand exactly what I mean,” Xiaoli’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Being married off to a Yakuza is worse than death for women in this world. Out of all scenarios that ran through Y/N’s mind when she was deciding whether to run or not, she indeed did not foresee this one.

“I won’t let Father do that to you, Xiaoli.” Y/N could feel the anger bubbling in her. Y/N’s heart burned with anger and guilt; her rebellion against the clan’s traditions had not only endangered her own fate but cast a shadow over her sister’s future. They are desperately trying to plot their victory which became obscure after she got engaged to the Min clan’s leader. She had been defiant for her own sake, for her freedom, and in doing so, she had unwittingly put her sister’s happiness on the line.

Tears shimmered in Xiaoli’s eyes as she clung to her sister, seeking solace in her embrace. “I love him Y/N.”

She was clutching her older sister’s dress tightly. Y/N needed to think, she needed to find a solution. Little did she know, her sister knew very well how to back out of this ordeal, and she was ready to do it willingly.

“Love who, honey?” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her heart a mix of fear and understanding. She knew the path that her sister was treading, the dangerous game she was playing.

“Taehyung-oppa.” Y/N was afraid of that. She did not know Kim Taehyung that well, only from Yoongi’s talking about this very important man.

“Does he intend to marry you?” The words were heavy with implication. A timid nod was Xiaoli’s response, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face, as if seeking approval or absolution.

“He plans to. But we need Father’s and Kkangpae Min’s blessing,” Xiaoli’s words were a tremulous confession, a secret laid bare in the moonlit room. ‘Make it happen’. Y/N kept her thoughts mingled in her head for some quiet moments.

“Sister, please,” Xiaoli begged Y/N. Xiaoli was head over heels for the older male. Taehyung was so charming, and she was too young to understand why he took interest in her in the first place.

“Kkangpae Min is in love with you.” Xiaoli’s words struck Y/N with an intensity that left her breathless “He won’t deny you.” Xiaoli’s voice held a conviction that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t realise the true nature of his affection.

She understands why she’s reaching to her before she would to her father, mother or Yoongi himself. Once she would be rejected there would be no making it better. There are no second negotiations in criminal syndicates. Her sister knew the intricate dynamics of the Min clan, and understood the power that Y/N held over their leader.

A maelstrom of emotions churned within Y/N – anger, longing, defiance, and a twinge of something else, something she dared not name.

“He was very angry with me only recently Xiaoli.” Y/N decided not to hurt her sister’s feelings by revealing that their love is probably only a little dot in a bigger scheme. Xiaoli furrowed her brows suddenly.

“Are you still going by your stubborn feminist ideals, Y/N?” She raised her voice, surprising her older sister as she needed to take a step back.

“Xiaoli.” Y/N warned her, trying to keep calm.

“No Y/N! You’re being reckless, and I even have to say that.” Y/N could not believe her words.

“Is this your opinion or Taehyung-oppa’s, hm?” She crossed her arms awaiting the younger female’s answer.

“Everyone’s Y/N. You don’t even realise how lucky you got when leader Min took you in—”

“Took me in?! He let Chan-yeol drug me and betray me to get his way.”

“Least you ain’t marrying that murderer anymore.” That argument was ultimate for Y/N. She could not disagree with that. One girl already died under his hands, and Y/N was almost second in a row if she would marry him.

“See? You cannot deny that. He saved you from him. You’re free, because of leader Min. The least you can do is to be a little grateful.” Her sister spat out.

“That man brainwashed you; this isn’t you.” Said Y/N.

“No Y/N. I just accepted his love and reciprocated it. You should finally receive what God has given to you before someone will die.”

“No one will die, Xiaoli.” Y/N’s voice was full of vulnerability.

“I love you, sister. I do. I just wish you would see this as a blessing. You’re marrying someone who loves you.” There was not a night Y/N would not think of this possibility. She could not decide whether this was a blessing or her worst nightmare. But it still pinched her heart that even her sister didn’t see why she kept trying to find her way out.

“But as I know you. Someone will have to die for you to know your place.” The contrast of her sister’s demeanour now and a minute ago was setting Y/N off.

And this was Y/N’s biggest fear. Her mind was a battleground of conflicting thoughts, torn between loyalty to protect those who could not protect themselves and the desire to be free from the chains of forced marriage.

Xiaoli’s plea to consider the proposal from Kim Taehyung, someone who supposedly loved her younger sister, left Y/N feeling both grateful and resentful. From one perspective her sister would live hopefully happily, safely and near Y/N. They would not have to part their ways yet again.

From the other perspective, Y/N would possibly give in to Yoongi’s manipulative tactics as she refused to believe he didn’t possess a piece of knowledge about this. Deliberately not telling her. Y/N paced back and forth, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

“Y/N…I apologise, I—” Xiaoli spoke after she sensed her sister was in distress.

“I want to make decisions myself, Xiaoli,” Y/N’s admission was a whisper, a confession that she had shared with no one else “—I want to have a say in how my life will turn out—” Something she was afraid to tell Yoongi or Namjoon.

“I wanted to have a choice.” She cried out. Xiaoli slowly approached her again.

“All you have to do is give in Y/N. Everything will be fine,” she cooed at Y/N.

“Why didn’t you write to me Xiaoli,” a sudden thought came to Y/N’s mind.

“Taehyung-oppa and leader Min thought it would be better as you needed to adjust.” Y/N could not help but desperately laugh at her words.

“You adjusted rather quickly.” Y/N scoffed, eyeing her physique clothed in pink flowery hanbok.

“Because I knew that this way, I could stay near you.” Y/N breathed in and out, trying to think clearly.

A sigh escaped her lips, a heavy exhale “If your love is genuine, if this is truly what you desire,” her voice wavered, uncertainty lacing her words, “then I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.” Y/N was willing to push her desires and longing for freedom if it meant that her sister would be happy and safe. However, Y/N knows she won’t have to persuade Yoongi. It’s her father’s approval that will be hard to obtain.

Her sister’s embrace tightened, a silent gratitude passing between them as tears mingled in the moonlit room. “But I want to know everything I missed, pumpkin.”

The two sisters spent the next hour catching up on all the moments they had missed in each other’s lives until it was time to say good night.

Y/N’s heart was heavy with emotions as she replayed the conversations she had with Xiaoli in her mind. She also recalled her deal with Namjoon back in the sanctuary. She had only recently bid her sister goodnight, yet the prospect of facing the scarred leader again loomed before her like an impending storm. The older sister longed to collect her thoughts a bit more before she had to face him again. For the last time before Y/N will become his wife, in the name of God.

Y/N made her way through the dimly lit halls of the luxurious railway hotel, straight back to him. Her steps were measured, each footfall echoing in the hushed ambiance of the hallways. She could hear soft notes of a classical composition she for sure heard before but couldn’t name. The calming cracking of the wood in the fireplace got louder and louder while she was quietly approaching the man sitting with his glass of hard liquor in a low armchair, manspreading — some parts of his three-piece suit scattered on his desk chair. His gaze remained fixed upon the fire’s dance, the play of shadows flickering across his face.

She could see his exhaustion, yet he was waiting alongside another glass of liquor that was placed on top of the fireplace, where he left it for her. Her approach did not go unnoticed. His gaze, deep and intense, met hers as she drew closer. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions as she saw the tenderness in his gaze. There was a softness to his features, a vulnerability that he rarely showed to others.

As she accepted the glass of liquor he had prepared, Y/N lowered herself into a chair opposite him. The air between them seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You knew?” She asked finally, tears welling up in her eyes yet again. His presence only made her feel everything at once. His calm demeanour contrasted starkly with the tempest that brewed within her.

“I did,” his expression was calm and attentive.

“Why keep it a secret?” She said more as a statement than a question.

His gaze did not waver, his response forthcoming. “I wanted you to focus on us, sweetling,” his voice was both tender and unapologetic. Y/N’s lips parted, the words of reproach she had prepared faltering on her tongue.

“You want me to be a Buin, yet you won’t even ask for my blessing. It’s my little sister Yoongi.”

“And that my love, is why I’m letting you decide this. Will that union be beneficial to us, Buin?”

“I’m too biased to think of your clan matters, Kkangpae.” She clapped back at him, speaking honestly.

“And by only looking at you, it was decided way before I got to know.”

The young man was looking at his future spouse in amusement. “Actually, I planned to arrange a marriage between her and Namjoon, but Taehyung swept her away it seems.” Her eyes snapped back at him. The threat that her sister would be married off to Namjoon was loud and clear even before. Namjoon was a decent man for proposing a deal to her, but Y/N wouldn’t stop being careful around that man, nonetheless let Yoongi give him Xiaoli.

“Therefore, I think the cards tossed themselves without me touching them, but still, this will be your call.” Y/N was eyeing him with suspicion. He never put any deciding matter in her hands before, nor did he share that much from clan matters, even when he suggested she could be involved as much as she wished.

“I want your word that he is a good man.” She said finally. With her glass in hand, she sipped the fiery liquid, scrunching her face at the taste. “Promise me, Yoongi,” her voice trembled, the plea she had held within her finding its voice. “Promise me that he’s a good man, that she’ll be safe with him.”

“Of course, he is. She’ll be better off with him. I promise.” He answered. A softness lingered in his gaze, a tenderness that bore the weight of unspoken promises.

“Father will be pissed.” She said to him, expecting any reaction. Y/N’s grip on the glass tightened, the cold surface pressing into her palm.

A wry smile tugged at his lips, a fleeting acknowledgment of the complexities that had marred their familial relationships.

“We have weathered such storms before, my dear.”

“Something tells me, this isn’t why you wanted me to come.” Said she, with determination in her tone.

A sigh escaped him, the weight of his responsibilities etched into his features. His hands raked through his dark hair; a gesture borne of frustration. “Can’t I just simply long for spending time with you, my dear?” his voice is gentle and inviting.

“It’s more than that,” she pressed, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You constantly keep disobeying me, love.” He said a bit more harshly than he wanted. Y/N frowned slightly. She knew he was right; she had been defying his orders and going against his wishes, seeking an escape route whenever she could.

“How did you manage to sway them all? My mother, my sister, even Kai.” She asked suddenly, her voice held a venomous edge. A chuckle escaped him, laden with both amusement and resignation. Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed.

“Maybe because they know this is God’s will, and it was meant to be.” He straightened himself in the chair, fighting his own fight with his frustrated mind. The young leader thanked and prayed to God every night for granting him her as a life companion. He, however, knew that she needed to be tamed.

Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed. The next words just happened to be forbidding the unforgivable.

“To hell with you and your God,” the words escaped her lips in a defiant hiss, a proclamation that cut through the air like a blade. And this was the last straw for Yoongi. The brave antique she illuminated just a second ago changed once she found herself being handled with a punishing grip on one of her arms. A swift, unrelenting grip it was. He seized her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“Let me go!” She screamed and desperately tried to twirl out of his hold. Panic surged within her; her struggles met with a strength that left her powerless.

“Enough of this insolence,” he hissed, his grip unyielding. Y/N’s world tilted as he pressed her down upon his desk, her body held captive beneath the weight of his resolve.

“You want to be a brat? You want to disobey me and the lord? —” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve indulged your defiance for far too long,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation. The room seemed to close in around her.

“I’m done with this behaviour, and you’re done too, my love.” He spat out right next to her ear. Only cries and whimpers come out of her. She was immobilized, her world reduced to the commanding force that held her captive. Y/N heard the rustle of his belt, and she awaited the worst. The air seemed to thicken with tension, each moment stretching into an eternity.

“Yoongi…please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry.” She pleaded, crying her heart out, her pleas an offering of surrender. The scarred leader tied her hands with the belt, and she felt a bit of relief he wouldn’t use the belt on her.

“You will learn your place, my love,” his words were a declaration, a promise that hung heavy in her soul.

“I was too good to you—” said he, caressing her delicate heart-shaped bottom.

“Let me hear some gratitude, darling, thank your Kkangpae for his hospitality.” Said he before he landed the first slap on her butt cheeks.

She was squirming on the wooden chair in the main dining hall, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. A vain attempt to find solace for her aching body. The sting of Yoongi’s preaching present. Her once-delicate bottom now bore the imprint of his reprimand. Regret gnawed at her; a bitter pill she had been compelled to swallow. She was not sure what part of that sentence angered him more. That she cursed at him or his almighty. Perhaps, she mused, it was the amalgamation of both that had pushed him to the edge.

That won’t ease the pain she feels now. Thoughts circled her mind with Xiaoli and Taehyung’s chatter in the background. He joined her family at breakfast before she was to prepare for the afternoon ceremony.

There was an undeniable magnetism between Taehyung and her younger sister. Y/N spotted how soft and endearing Taehyung was with her sister and there was no doubt that he indeed took an interest in the younger female. It was their mother who looked more anxious now.

“Is everything fine, Ma?” Xiaoli asked, eating her soft-boiled egg that had been served just a minute ago. Very western. But nobody was surprised as this hotel attracted noble people from every corner of the world. The surroundings and necessities were adjusted to be more international.

“Oh yes my dear, I’m just worried your father will be in distress again.” The older female said, sipping on her tea instead of elaborating more. Y/N knew very well that by distress she meant anger. The Min clan was messing with all his plans and that made him a ticking bomb.

“And you Y/N?” Her sister turned his eyesight at her. Y/N offered a soft smile and a nod – a half-truth. She could not bring herself to tell her the truth when she knew her loyalty belonged more to her husband-to-be and not to her anymore.

“Did you sleep well, my child?” Her mother asked with a prying tone. It almost felt like she knew what happened.

“Like a baby.” Her response veiled in ironic sarcasm. Y/N slept, the few hours she was granted, most of the time on her belly. It was her last night sleeping alone as Yoongi graciously reminded her before he tucked her in the sheets, biding her sweet dreams before he finally left her.

She wondered whether he was in his office as she hadn’t seen him yet this morning. And she was grateful for that. She had yearned for more time – time to think, to grapple with the complexities of her new reality. But her desires were a luxury she could ill afford.

“Very well, ladies. I shall see you later today, I still have some work to do.” Taehyung announced, getting up from his chair. Y/N watched how her sister pouted that he had to leave and smiled once he kissed her forehead, giving her goodbye. A shadow of melancholy that crept into her heart.

She wished her life would turn out differently, somewhere overseas, with someone she would love dearly and the sight of her sister’s happiness, pinched a bit of sadness in her heart. Y/N was happy that her sister had the chance to fall in love and she still hoped that it was in the stars for her too.

“Everyone knows.” Said Xiaoli suddenly when Taehyung was too far away to hear. Xiaoli’s words bore a weight of knowledge, a revelation that pulled Y/N from her introspection.

“Know what?” Y/N’s query was tinged with confusion, her sister’s words veiled in mystery.

“Everyone knows that Kkangpae disciplined you last night.” Xiaoli’s revelation sliced through the air, a truth that echoed like a damning verdict, unwelcome yet acknowledged.

“What did you do, child?” said her mother, putting her cup down, expecting an answer.

“I cursed at him and God, Ma.” Y/N’s voice was hushed, almost sheepish in its admission. Rightfully, her mother gasped, placing her hands at her mouth, successfully attracting attention to their table.

“Did you at least apologise?” Xiaoli asked, not surprised why the leader decided to lecture her sister that way.

“I did.” Said Y/N a bit sturdier, gulping down the rest of her jasmine tea.

“You’re lucky,” Xiaoli’s voice was tinged with a mix of sympathy and pragmatism. “Taehyung-oppa said that Kkangpae Min doesn’t take kindly when someone challenges the divine.” Y/N stopped listening once she said ‘Kkangpae’. She wanted to forget about him, just for a single moment.

“Y/N—” her mother began, her voice a delicate entreaty “—I understand that this is hard to take in, but don’t disown your beliefs because you don’t agree with the lord’s plan for you. Accept it and move on.” She knew her mother meant well. After all, she wanted all her children to be happy. Y/N gazed over at yet again the silent little boy who was sitting next to her the whole time.

“I know, Ma.” She sighed. Y/N smiled softly at her younger brother who was playing with his breakfast. His small frame bore the mark of his premature birth. She remembers her mother’s cries that echoed in the house that night. Father was so happy to have a son to care about that the mother of all his children almost died.

Her thoughts meandered to the countless women she had seen succumb to childbirth; their lives stolen by the very act that should have brought forth life. Enough for her to push the ideology of having children unless she is completely ready. Therefore, she did not hesitate to supply her body with herbs that had contraceptive effects, nor she did not forget to mark down her ovulation every time after her monthly bleeding. Y/N knew very well that it wouldn’t fly with Yoongi if she managed to somehow use the diaphragm, nor she did not expect him to support the newfound usage of condoms.

Any contraceptive method was banned and taboo in every syndicate clan. Y/N knew she had to perform her duties as a leader’s wife, but if nature can help her to prevent certain aspects of their marriage, she will keep fighting this way.

She knew that her choices would not be met with approval, least of all by Yoongi. Y/N’s resolve to wield these methods was both an assertion of her agency and a form of silent rebellion.

The seconds refused to align with her favour. Seated before a vanity mirror, her porcelain features were delicately adorned with touches of makeup and her hair arranged with golden dragonfly pins with pearls hanging from them. Her mother’s careful hands combed through her hair just minutes ago, an act woven with generations of tradition.

“I think I need to breathe some air, ma.” Y/N’s voice was a soft exhale. The older woman paused in her actions, her reflection in the mirror meeting her daughter’s gaze. She saw the mixture of emotions in Y/N’s eyes, and her heart ached for the turmoil her child was going through. Wrapping her arms around Y/N, her mother embraced her, a comforting cocoon against the tempest outside. It wasn’t just a mother holding her daughter; it was a transfer of strength, a promise of unwavering support.

“You’re going to be alright, Y/N,” her mother’s whisper was a soothing lullaby to the young woman’s anxieties. “You’ll always pull through, no matter what.”

With her eyes closed, she leans into her mother’s embrace. The scent of her mother’s familiar perfume enveloped her, grounding her in the present while still connecting her to the past. She felt the love and understanding that flowed between them, the unspoken bond that only a mother and daughter could share.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. She turned and walked towards the door, sliding it open and walking down the corridor, aiming for the hotel’s backyard.

As the muffled sounds of the bustling wedding preparations reverberated around her, Y/N passed the office, an unspoken knowledge suggesting the presence of the mastermind behind the occasion – the man she was meant to stand beside. She couldn’t see him before the wedding ceremony, for which she was quite relieved. It gave her time to prepare herself to face him again.

The coat draped over her shoulders provided a semblance of warmth, though the chill in the air seemed to seep into her very bones.

“Y/N?” The voice was a jarring intrusion, a reminder of the entanglements she couldn’t escape.

“Kai?” Her response mirrored his tone, a mixture of guarded curiosity and exasperation.

“Where are you going?” His question hung in the air.

“To get some air,” she replied, her words etched with an undercurrent of defiance. “Why do you care?”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready for the wedding,” his words were a stark reminder of the expectations that bore down on her. Of course, he was brainwashed by his new leader too.

“We never got the chance to talk, Kai,” her voice carried an edge, an unresolved tension underscoring her words, looking over the snowy garden.

“About?” His inquiry followed her like a shadow.

“About you aiding my escape from China and then delivering me into the hands of the enemy,” her words, though uttered calmly, carried the weight of her resentment. She was feeling petty after all.

“That’s done and dusted, Y/N. Regardless, he would have come for you,” Kai’s response was clinical, devoid of remorse.

“What was auntie’s grand plan?” she deflected the subject, a sore point that neither of them could escape.

“Didn’t you read her letter? She explained,” Kai’s words alluded to a topic that was fraught with emotion.

“Yoongi hasn’t given it to me yet.”

“If you would be behaving yourself, you would already know everything you need, Y/N.”

“Ah yes. Everybody seems to have a sudden surge of loyalty to my husband-to-be,” her tone was laced with bitter irony.

“He’s the better leader,” Kai’s response was swift.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Y/N. If only you’d finally submit, you would see that too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when you were helping me escape?” She ignored his words, stepping outside, a rush of fresh air greeting her.

“Because I know your stubbornness is your biggest weakness, Y/N. You wouldn’t have listened nor go willingly.”

“No, I wouldn’t have. But at least I would’ve had the freedom to choose which all of you graciously took from me.”

“You’d rather be the wife of that imbecile?” His words held a venomous edge.

“No Kai—”

“Then be fucking grateful for once,” a sentiment she had heard all too often.

“Is everything alright down here?” A new presence interrupted their tense exchange.

“As it should be Chan-yeol-hyung.” Kai’s response dripped with a veiled hostility.

“Y/N?” Chan-yeol’s voice sought her, his demeanour slightly more composed.

“Why don’t you mind your business, Chan-yeol?” Kai’s frustration was palpable.

“I’m just checking on Buin, brother-in-law,” Chan-yeol’s attempt at levity did little to alleviate the tension. Y/N did not understand what happened between these two males. But she was not willing to listen to their bickering.

“You both need to calm down,” Y/N’s voice cut through the fray, an appeal for some semblance of peace.

“Whatever,” Kai’s final word hung in the air as he stormed away, leaving Y/N to face the biting cold on her own.

“He needs to reset his mind.” Chan-yeol’s words were a bridge to a conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted.

“That’s quite ironic coming from you,” her retort was quick, her scepticism evident.

“I’ve reset my mind, Y/N,” his voice held a hint of resignation, his lips falling into thin lines.

“Have you now?”

“Yes. I almost regret having to do it again.”

“What do you mean-” Y/N did not manage to ask him as he pressed a white cloth against her mouth, her head immobilized by his firm grip.

“You wanted to have a choice? Here it is.” She heard very few words before her eyes shut down.

I N T E R L O G U E

The smaller woman was running down the corridor. The sight she had beheld just moments ago had etched itself in her mind – her sister, her flesh and blood, being mercilessly torn away. She stumbled down the passage, her frantic steps echoing like the drumbeats of impending doom. Her heart was furiously beating, and her head started to spin when she realised the weight of this situation, breathing shallow.

“Taehyung-oppa!” Her voice, laced with desperation and fear, pierced the air like a knife. Tears blurred her vision, turning the world into a watery haze. Her trembling hands found the wooden door, and with an almost violent push, she thrust it open, her heartache and panic leaving no room for politeness or formality.

In the room, seven pairs of eyes, all shades of intensity and authority, snapped to attention at the intrusion, landing on her distressed form. Taehyung, positioned by the fireplace, lowered the crystal glass he had been nursing, his gaze zeroing in on her. His sharp eyes swept over her, taking in her dishevelled appearance, her tear-stained cheeks.

“Why are you crying, what happened, love?” Taehyung’s voice, soft yet commanding. Of course, she interrupted an important meeting, but none of the big seven could withstand their women crying without knowing the cause and therefore the urgency of the meeting was momentarily forgotten; when a woman wept, the world paused.

“Oppa—” Her voice quivered, a sob escaping her lips as her gaze flitted around the room, acutely aware of the attention fixed upon her.

“It’s okay, speak, girl.” The words, uncharacteristically gentle from the Kkangpae, coaxed her and pushed her to sing.

“He took her.” Her words, almost lost in her sobs, hung in the air, a chilling revelation that sent shockwaves through the room. The Kkangpae stiffened in his seat, starting to see red.

“Took who.” He worked out, even though he already knew. His voice, a rumbling undercurrent of controlled anger, demanded answers he already suspected.

“Y/N.” A loud bang echoed through the room, an ear-piercing sound of broken glass followed.

“Who took her, Xiaoli-beloved?” Taehyung approached her, grabbing her hands into his.

“I didn’t see, his back was facing me, oppa, but he looked like Chan-yeol.” She cast her gaze to the formidable figure at the head of the room, the Kkangpae, the leader, her sister’s lover.

“Namjoon, greet Yamamoto’s with Jimin-ah, —” the Kkangpae’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his orders delivered with a chilling finality.

“Hoseok, Jungkook,” his words were a decree, swift and unyielding “I want Chan-yeol alive, anyone else involved, dead.” The two men immediately rose from their seats, their purpose clear.

“Bring her back, even if it requires force,” the Kkangpae’s voice, a mixture of desperation and determination, reverberated in the room just like the song of the sorrow, the dead, echoed in their lives yet again.

to be continued

author’s note: so here we are at chapter V!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ for some reason this chapter got longer than I wanted it to be, I actually planned that chapter VI will be longest so far; to bring good news, I'm almost finished, however, this next monday i'm returning to UNI and above that I'm going to work too, therefore I cannot say when will the next chapter be out, but I promise I'll try my best ♥ If not full chapters I'll try to deliver some drabbles/fillers to you chummers ♥

!IMPORTANT! I'm trying to always make sure that you're tagged right in the taglist, however, there are still accounts that for some reason cannot be tagged, I have no clue why is this happening but I'm trying to figure out a way where everyone who wanted to be notified about Lacrimosa updates will be notified. If you have any tips or advice in this matter, my dm's, asks, replies, reblogs are open for you all ♥

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17- @honsoolgloss- @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27- @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822- @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss @secfir - @btspurplesky @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin @selenophileforlife

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hopelessromantic423 · 1 year

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When The Anxiety Is Too Much

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Anxious!Reader

Summary: On a day when your anxiety is getting to you, Bucky comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety. Angst. Fluff. Nickname, buttercup used once.

A/N: Anxiety looks different on everybody, but this is what it feels like to me sometimes. Maybe I’m not the only one, but this was a scenario I created in my silly little brain.

To Bucky, you were sunshine. The second you walked in a room, his day got a little bit better. That's one of the reasons he fell in love with you. Luckily, you had fallen just as hard and were taking the beginning steps at dating. You two had been on about three dates and Bucky was over the moon.

Hey buttercup, wondering if you wanted to get takeout and watch a movie tonight?

Bucky sent the text around 10am, knowing you were awake. He sat with a smile for a few moments and then went into the team meeting scheduled at the time.

Once the meeting had ended, you still had not answered. Which is odd because you usually answered around this time, and you hadn't told him you would be busy. He decided to call. You didn't answer.

He brushed it off. Probably just a miscommunication. His thoughts went wild for one minute thinking of scenarios, but then he took a deep breath and reminded himself you were probably okay.

The entire day he was checking his phone every few minutes to see if you had responded. Then he called about five or more times to see if you were alright. Finally, he decided to check on you.

"(Y/N), it's Bucky."

You opened the door with an anxious look on your face. Like the last thing you wanted to see was Bucky. Bucky scanned your body up and down like it was an ops mission and you came from enemy lines. No blood, no bruises, no clattering from inside the apartment. Normal.

"Hey," Bucky said in a soft tone. His eyes were worried but soft as he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry Buck, it's just- I saw your text, I did. My mind it went into a thousand circles and I couldn't answ-"

You were cut off by your words being muffled by the warmth that was Bucky Barnes embrace. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead, holding you so tight he was afraid he could hurt you.

You didn't fight back or saying anything, you just reciprocated the hug and shed a few tears on his leather jacket. You forgot how nice it was for someone to care about you like this.

"Can I come in?" Bucky continued his soft tone as he pulled away, which made you feel like a million butterflies were in your stomach.

"Yea, of course," you muttered.

He gave you an assuring soft smile while taking your hand in his and stepping towards the doorframe. He made his entrance and you closed the door behind you. Bucky took a few steps, peeking in your bedroom to make sure there were no intruders.

"You're not in any danger?" He asked in all seriousness. A little line formed in between his eyebrows as he continued his concerned stare.

"I'm safe Buck, really. My mind is what's playing tricks on me."

Bucky took a deep breath and gave you a look that wasn’t pity or sad, it was of understanding. "Do you want to talk about it? We don't have to if you don't-"

"Will you sit with me on the couch?” Your expression was nervous and anxious as you interrupted, like Bucky could walk out the door at any moment if you didn’t say what needed to be said.

Bucky nodded with a soft smile, pacing towards you and grabbing your hand. He lightly tugged you to the couch and led you so that you were sitting on his lap. His left arm protectively wrapped around your waist and the right stayed intertwined with yours.

"I have anxiety," you said matter of factly, with a thin layer of unconfident mixed in. "Sometimes that anxiety makes me push people away, and do things that I usually don't want to do."

Bucky listened intently, his thumb continually brushed lightly against your skin as you spoke timidly. He knew the feeling all too well, he just didn't expect someone so full of sunshine would be able to feel that too.

"Today was pretty bad, I wanted to answer but I got into a spiral and that led to me throwing my phone across the room and not looking at it all day."

"It's okay (Y/N), thank you for telling me," Bucky assured, moving his hand to brush up and down your back.

"There's days where I don't even want to get out of bed," Bucky muttered.

"So, what do I do if today happens again."

"We work on it, but talking to your therapist about this would be a step in the right direction."

"Here," Bucky lightly set you off his lap and stood up. "I want you to lay down."

"Don't get any ideas Barnes," you teased with a smirk.

"Ha ha," he deadpanned and he leaned down to kiss you lightly on the lips before laying down on top of you. Most of his weight was on you, but not enough where you couldn't breath.

"This feels nice," you mumbled as the pressure made your thoughts ten times lighter. Bucky let out a deep chuckled while leaning to grab the television remote.

“How about a movie?” He suggested.

“Perfect,” you hummed while placing your hands in Bucky’s hair to play with the brunette curls.

That’s what you did. The two of you laid together and watched a movie together, which you didn’t expect would be happening only a few hours before. It was nice that someone finally understood you, and that someone could help you through it one step at a time.

#reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #Bucky Barnes x angst #marvel #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #bucky oneshot #Bucky Barnes x Anxious!reader #bucky fic #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n

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avocadorablepirate · 2 months

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What Do We Call This? - 02

previous || mini masterlist || next

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, mild swearing, the occasional OP spoiler

A/N: Okay, not gonna lie, this chapter turned out better than I expected it to be, so I hope you like it too. Also, I still don't know what to call this =⁠_⁠=.

In addition, I would just like to state that while the reader does have her own story, a large portion of the chapters won't really dive into it; maybe a flashback here and there and brief mentions of it. It will obviously be brought up later on, but this series will kinda focus more on how she builds her relationship with Law.

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

Things hadn't changed much since the captain of the Heart Pirates and the two samurai had come on board - the chaos still the same. You would even say things had become far more chaotic. The Heart Pirate however, seemed to have grown frustrated with the group in less than a days time, confining himself to the library whenever he could. You would only see him for breakfast, lunch and dinner and even then he would leave as soon as he was done.

The rest of the crew seem to see him more often; they always know what he's doing. Then again, he doesn't really need to interact with me since his alliance is with the Straw Hats, not me, you try to reason with your own thoughts as you help Sanji in the kitchen. Since you had boarded the Sunny you spent most of your time in the kitchen with Sanji, helping him with the daily meal prep. Although, he would insist that your presence was all the help he needed, and while others may have found his constant declarations of love tiresome, you found it quite entertaining. Alternatively, you would spend your time with Nami and Robin, learning cartography and studying about past civilizations. It was under the pretext of expanding your knowledge, but you had a slight personal interest in the subjects as well, which Nami and Robin had caught on to.

"(Y/N)," the voice of the ship's doctor snaps you out of your thoughts, and you turn from the kitchen counter, to see him sticking his head out from behind the door. You smile fondly at Chopper; the little reindeer had melted your heart the minute you had laid eyes on him, and just like Robin you couldn't help but soften any time he spoke to you.

"Do you want me to change your bandages now?" Chopper asks, as he looks from you to your arm.

"Oh right! I'll come right away," you say, remembering that earlier on in the day you had asked Chopper whether he could help you change your bandages. You place the knife that you were using on the counter and follow Chopper to the infirmary, Sanji crying out for you to stay as you leave the kitchen.

"How does it feel?" Chopper asks as you seat yourself on the bed while he rummages around looking for some gauze wrap.

"A lot better! The medication definitely helped."

Chopper seats himself infront of you, and he helps you remove the bandage that you had already started to take off. He then asks you to outstretch your arm so that he can examine it.

"Thanks for doing this Chopper. If it had been my left arm instead I wouldn't have had to ask you for your help," you try to distract him from inspecting your arm for too long, and pick up the gauze, attempting to wrap it around your arm yourself.

"I'm glad I can help," Chopper says as he takes the roll from you to wrap it for you instead. Just then the door to the infirmary bursts open, and you're startled not by the noise but by the person standing on the other side. Law leans against the door frame as he assess the situation, and his eyes once again linger on your right arm.

What is he doing here?

"What happened to her arm?" Law asks Chopper, his eyes now focusing on the reindeer who's as surprised as you are.

"Oh, (Y/N) tripped while everyone was running from that gas and sprained her arm," Chopper says, returning to his task of wrapping the gauze around your arm.

Truth be told, you hadn't been completely honest when you had told the Straw Hats about your devil fruit powers. You had told them that your powers allowed you to manipulate others' muscles and internal organs, granting you the ability to both damage and heal others, and that was the truth. However, what you had chosen to leave out was the repercussions you suffered on using your power - be it healing or inflicting injury onto someone, you would suffer damages to the same organ or muscle to a more severe extent. Why had you not told the Straw Hats about this? You felt indebted to them. They had allowed you onto their ship despite the fact that on your first encounter you had been tasked with the job of killing them, but they had chosen to forgive and forget and you would always be grateful to them for it. So, you didn't want then to feel guilty any time they asked you to help them with their injuries.

"Tripped?" Law says, but it sounds more like a question, and you offer him a brief smile as he eyes you skeptically.

"Yes, I tripped," you firmly state, in hopes of putting an end to this discussion.

"Oh Law, (Y/N) is also a devil fruit user," Chopper says, going on to explain how your powers work, or at least how he was told they work. Through the whole explanation you can feel Law's eyes on you, and you feel uncomfortable under his gaze, it's almost like he's looking right into you and figuring out every small detail about you.

"But her powers don't allow her to heal herself, which isn't great considering how clumsy she is," Chopper teases, and you let out a small chuckle. So far, you had made all the damage you had taken look like accidents, covering them up with fibs about tripping over your own feet or rolling off your bed.

Law doesn't say anything in response to Chopper's monologue, instead approaching you with a sense of purpose. Before you can even protest he has his blue orb surrounding you, holding his sword in front of you.

"Scan."

"Oye Law what are you doing!?" Chopper yells, as he jumps out of his seat to come between you and Law. After what had happened with the kids in Punk Hazard, Chopper had become slightly wary of Law's powers. He knew he wouldn't hurt you, but his ability still perturbed the reindeer.

The blue orb faded and Law looked from you to Chopper, "tripping, shouldn't have caused such severe damage to her muscle," he says to Chopper while taking your arm in his hands to examine it himself.

You pull away from him almost immediately, the slight jerk causing you to grimace at the pain. "It was a hard fall," you say, as you hastily get up and walk to the door.

"I need to get back to the kitchen and help Sanji. Thanks for the help Chopper." You offer him a smile and quickly walk out of the infirmary before either of the two can say anything, leaving behind one doctor puzzled and the other intrigued.

Shit, I'll have to be more cautious now that he's around.

_______________________________________________

In an attempt to be more cautious you had decided avoiding Law would be the best option, which you thought would be easy considering he spent most of his time in the library. But now he seemed to be everywhere you were. If you were in the kitchen helping Sanji, he would be there. If you were cleaning the deck, he would be there. And all he did was scrutinize you, no words were exchanged, just him staring which made it all the more frustrating. The only time you were free from him was when you were on the night watch - away in the crow's nest with one of the Straw Hats to keep you company - just like tonight, except your lookout partner hadn't shown up yet. It had been an hour and no one had come, and the lack of constant conversing was making you drowsy.

It's the light tapping against the floorboard of the deck below you that perks you up, and you peep your head through the window to call out your night watch partner for being late.

"Luffy it's been an hour! What took you so lon-," you cut yourself off when from the corner of your eye you see a faint blue light appear in the room, and you turn around immediately, pulling out the knife that you had secured around your waist at all times.

You relax when you realise that it's just Law. But, then you realise it's Law.

"Sorry, I was reading something and didn't notice the time," Law's words don't sound like much of an apology with how he says it in a monotonous tone, but it doesn't phase you. You're more bothered by the fact that he's here instead of Luffy, and he senses it.

"Straw Hat-ya argued that I need to help the crew. So, he made me take his shift."

You roll your eyes as you take your previous place on the floor. You had been on the Sunny long enough to know that Luffy's incessant nagging could make people give in to any of his requests, but you hadn't expected Law to fall victim to it too.

You take the book from beside you, Forgotten Islands, and pick up from where you had left off. However, you find it hard to concentrate with the way Law's staring.

"Maybe you should keep watch from the deck."

"How do your powers work?" he asks, completely ignoring your suggestion.

"What?" you ask, surprised by the sudden question.

"Your devil fruit, how does it make?"

"Chopper told you - I can manipulate the muscles and organs of others," you say, giving him the short answer, and hoping that he would take a hint and realise that you didn't want to dive into the semantics.

"How?"

Clearly he didn't.

"When it comes to healing I need to place my hand over the area where the organ or muscle is, focus on it and channel my energy towards it to get the desired result. When attacking it's easier, I need to concentrate on my opponent, visualise the muscle or organ, and use hand gestures and verbal commands to cause damage," you say, as you set your book down, waiting for the inflow of questions that you were sure were to follow.

"So with those children on Punk Hazard, you couldn't heal them?" Law now sits across from you, arms folded over his chest and head bent down, his katana placed against the wall beside him.

"My power doesn't allow me to physically remove damaged parts or remove infections from those parts, I can only repair them. So, curing something like a disease that affects a person's genetic predisposition is impossible."

"And there are no side effects?"

"No, I just feel drowsy," you're quick to respond, and Law looks at you with a hint of suspicion. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to think of what to ask next, but you've decided you don't want to give out any more information.

"Enough about me. Why are you so keen on taking down Doflamingo? He's not a Yonko, and I don't see how this whole S.M.I.L.E thing affects you." There's a genuine curiosity behind your question, although in the back of your mind you have a vague idea of what his answer might be.

"Fixing past mistakes," Law says, his lips contorting into a small sinister smile.

"What mistakes?"

"Someone died because they were protecting me from Doflamingo."

"That's not your fault. He chose to protect you," you say with such conviction, Law's surprised by how you sound so sure of yourself. In all honesty, he doesn't even know why he's telling you all of this, he's not one to readily open up about his past.

"And now I'm repaying the favour."

"Doflamingo isn't just some pirate. You could get yourself killed in the process."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take." He says it so nonchalantly, it annoys you how little he seems to care for his own wellbeing.

"If I had put my life on the line for someone, I wouldn't want that someone to die at the hands of the same person I was trying to protect them from." You're trying to reason with him, but you can't stop yourself from glowering.

"I guess you and I have different morals then," he says as he looks up at you with a scowl of his own. Frankly, he doesn't know why you seem to care so much for someone you just met, and it irks him that you do.

"I guess so."

You let out a scoff as you get up from your seat on the floor and walk to the ladder that is used to enter and exit the observation deck. Another second in this room would only swell your frustration towards the pirate.

"I'll keep watch from the deck. Call me if you need anything," and you climb down the ladder without waiting for Law to say anything.

Your earlier decision to stay clear of Law would have to be scrapped. If he was ready to get himself killed in Dressrosa, you would have to make sure he didn't.

_______________________________________________

A/N: I don't know whether to make a taglist or not, so if you do want to be tagged just let me know.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law fanfic #trafalgar law x y/n #law x you #trafalgar law fanfiction #this was not so terrible <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)>

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