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gurugirl · 1 year

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The Con Artist | Part 5*

Summary: You and Harry admit how much you like one another but a traumatic event confuses everything and leaves you feeling unsafe and terrified. Harry thinks he's doing the right thing by keeping his distance.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This is part of a short series. This part might have some triggering content. Read warnings before continuing.

The Con Artist Masterlist

12.4k words

Warning: Smut, angst, a kidnapping attempt, use of guns & drugs, some violence, a quick hospital scene

◈ ◈ ◈

You told Harry everything. All about your methods of getting a man to take you to his home or hotel room. That you had a dealer who supplied you with the pills (and weed for yourself), who also bought the jewelry off of you. You told him how much money you’d been able to save and told him that most of it was still stashed in your apartment, hidden away, and that you never kept any of the items you stole for fear of being searched one day and found with evidence. The cash could be explained. A Rolex with a serial number that matched a stolen one was much more difficult to talk your way out of.

You were nervous telling him, though. He was still a cop and you were still a suspect in a case. But you trusted him. You knew it was safe to tell him and if you wanted to really give it a go with him for whatever it was you two were doing, then you needed to be honest with him like he’d been with you.

And Harry learned that you weren’t some super devious criminal mind who knew the law and how to work the system. You just learned things as you went and you’d been lucky until you stole from the wrong men. Men that had some sort of influence and who had security cameras and lots of money.

But he was impressed with how much money you’d made over the years. You were a little bit scrappy and very brave. And you had more money than he did. A lot more in fact.

“Think I got into the wrong line of business. Bet I could get rich women to take me back to their home and make a fortune,” Harry laughed.

“You totally could. But women are harder than men. Women are smart and think about outcomes and the big picture. Men tend to narrow their ideas a little and think of the immediate idea but not much past that. Especially when they think they’re about to get lucky. So it’s easy to get a man to take you back to their place. A woman would take more time to work. Except you are quite attractive,” you reasoned.

It was freeing to tell Harry everything. He had plenty of questions for you and seemed to be more intrigued than put off. You’d never told a man you slept with about what you did honestly. But Harry was… well he was Harry.

You two didn’t wind up getting as much sleep as you intended that night. You ate the rest of the convenience store junk food for dinner and tried to sit through watching some crime drama program on TV but when you two got into a heated debate about which television show was better, Killing Eve or The Mentalist (there is no competition, Killing Eve is far superior), Harry told you he knew more about the law than you and then he Harry dragged you over his lap, pulled your shorts down, and spanked you, which led to him fucking you so hard against the headboard that the wall behind it was punctured. You both laughed about it but the headboard hid the damage well enough.

And then you woke before the sun rose and Harry had you in his arms next to him and you couldn’t help yourself when you kissed over his chest and nuzzled into his pecs a little, kissing over his nipples and Harry woke up when he felt your mouth on him.

“What’re you doing?” He spoke in a groggy voice.

You tilted your head back to peer up at him, “Your chest is so nice, Harry. Your muscles and little nipples. I’ve never felt the need to kiss on a man’s pecs before I met you,” you grinned at him. And it was true. Harry’s body was insane but his chest was so nice and he always smelled so good anyway, so it was hard to control yourself when it was right there in your face.

Harry adjusted his hold on you and moved himself down to your breasts, “I feel the same about your pecs…” he laughed as he licked over your left nipple but you weren’t laughing. His warm mouth on your tit, the way his back was flexing, the messy head of brown curls at your chest, his naked body…

You pushed him down and climbed on top and rode him hard. It was a delicious pre-dawn orgasm for you both before going back to sleep for a few more hours, only to wake up and do it all again.

Harry had you on your back as he hovered over you, fucking you slowly as you both gradually woke up and worked yourselves toward release. Sleeping naked together also didn’t help. You both insisted that was the best way to sleep, and it truly is, but when you’re naked and in bed with a man that looks like Harry, and talks like Harry, with a cock like Harry’s, well, you learned you cannot resist and when he was just as down as you the result was a lot of sex.

And plus you just really liked him and he really liked you. Even if you were debating about crime dramas or arguing about UK politics (which you really knew very little about, but you wouldn’t admit that to him and let him win) it was all like foreplay to you. And he liked your attitude and how combative you tended to be even if he said you were a brat for it.

By the time you’d packed up your things and gotten a ride from Bob to the shop to get Harry’s car, you were so satisfied from all the orgasms you had, you felt like you could resist Harry sufficiently for a while. And Harry was probably in the best mood you’d ever seen him in. Of course, he was, he’d been having sex for almost two days straight and getting his prick sucked. All those feel-good hormones would put anyone in a good mood.

The bumper didn’t match the rest of the car but Harry didn’t want to wait any longer to get it painted to match. He’d worry about that later. It was road-ready and it was time to head back North to Cottonwood.

You and Harry decided to head back to your mom’s to get your car, stay the night in Cottonwood, and then figure out what to do next. Before you got back on the road Harry had made the decision to call Rebecca and tell her what was going on (well, a version of what was going on).

The call didn’t last as long as you thought it would. Harry was leaned against the driver’s side door while you fiddled with your phone inside the car. You could hear most of what was said.

“I know. I know, I’m sorry,” he lied that he’d left his phone in his car after the small accident and it took longer to get the car worked on than he anticipated.

He said he was still trailing you but that he was having doubts that you were guilty anymore which had your ears perk up.

“I haven’t seen anything from her that suggests she’s the one. I thought I had a good lead but I was wrong, Volanti… I understand… I know,” he sighed as he spoke.

When he got into the car he rubbed his hands over his face and then looked over at you, “She wants me to stay on you for one more week just in case, and then they’re going to start moving the case to a cold file of sorts if there aren’t any more reports of the crime. She said you’re probably on to me which is why you haven’t made a move,” Harry laughed, “and I guess technically that’s true.”

You smiled and nodded, “I’m definitely on to you Detective Styles,” you laughed, “but does that mean I won’t be a suspect anymore once the file is moved?”

Harry started the car up and looked in his rearview mirror as he backed up, “You’ll still be a suspect, but as long as you don’t do anything it should be okay. I think they’ll put less focus on it, that’s what happens with cold files. The case still gets worked, just not as aggressively.”

That all sounded like very good news to you. It was a relief to know it was Harry that was the one who was working the case and not another cop. If had been anyone else you might already be in jail at that very moment.

The drive back to Cottonwood was smooth going. Your mom was surprised you were coming back so soon, and that you were bringing Harry.

“So…” Harry said with a sigh, “I was thinking I’d just get a room and that motel. I don’t want you to get all bent out of shape over it. I just think out of respect for your mom we shouldn’t be sleeping in your room together.”

You frowned but you knew he was probably right. It wouldn’t be smart to have him in your bedroom with your mom right next door. There’s no way you’d be able to stop yourself from doing something to provoke him and then getting dicked down even with your mom so close.

“Well, what if you just slept on the couch?” You looked over at him as he stopped at the stop sign before accelerating. You were only a few minutes from your mother’s house.

“Y/n,” Harry glanced over at you before placing his site back on the road, “I still think that’s a bad idea. From what I gather about you over these last few days,” he smiled keeping his eyes ahead, “is that you’d probably try and seduce me anyway. Just knowing I’m in the same house as you would be trouble. You can’t resist this,” he gestured his hand over himself.

You scoffed and shoved his arm, “Shut up. You’re the one that would be begging me to let you in my bedroom. If anyone’s weak here it’s you. Just consider how we met and that’s all I need to say for you to know I’m right,” you crossed your hands over your chest with a grin as you looked out the window.

Harry laughed, “Oh please. You were so dickmatized by me that you didn’t even see it when a cop was inviting you to his room. And the way you begged me this morning…” Harry pulled up in front of your mom’s house and parked, “you’re obsessed with me and my cock and you can’t deny it.”

You squinted your eyes in fake annoyance as you looked at the man who was grinning at you. You realized it was a bad idea to have him stay at your mom's. Of course, it was. You were both unable to resist and that was the truth.

Harry grabbed your suitcase and pulled it from his trunk, rolling it up to your mom’s front door behind you.

Your mom had left for work already, she told you to make yourself at home. You led Harry to your bedroom and he looked around at everything in your room when he sat your luggage by the door. You watched him closely as he leaned in and looked at pictures and the little trinkets you had from when you were younger.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you said to Harry. He stood upright and turned back to you and nodded.

When you got back to your room, Harry was sitting on the edge of your bed with a shoe box in hand and that damn dimpled grin. Your eyes widened when you realized what shoebox it was. You had a variety of shoeboxes where you kept little things for yourself. Small mementos, notes from friends and exes, pictures, and in the specific box he was holding, a small dildo, plastic cuffs with pink fur, and a half-used box of condoms. It was from your quick stint in college. You’d upgraded to a nicer dildo and vibrator when you moved to LA and so you didn’t need the beginner one in that box. Your mother knew you had it in there, she was the one who encouraged you to buy one in the first place. Not in a creepy way, but in a it’s healthy and normal to explore your body kind of way.

The condoms were for when you were fucking your ex, the guy who took your virginity. They were probably expired. And the cuffs, well they were mostly just a joke. They’d actually never been used before.

You walked to Harry and grabbed the box but he put his hands over yours and pulled you down onto the bed next to him, his grin widening, “What’s wrong, dear?” He laughed as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s rude to go through someone’s personal shit, Harry. That’s from a long time ago anyway,” you tried taking the box from him but he lifted it up and out of your reach as he shook his head.

“Is it? Isn’t that what you do for a living? Going through people’s personal shit? Just thought this little thing looked quite well used is all. How many times did you make yourself come using it?” Harry was leaning in toward you as he kept the box just out of your reach.

“What is wrong with you?” You pushed at him but you couldn’t stop the smile that started to crawl over your face so you turned away from him.

Harry reached around and put his fingers at your chin and pulled your face back in his view. He’d placed the box down behind him and he brought his mouth over yours as his other hand took your wrists in his hand so you couldn’t grab the box like he knew you’d try for.

You laughed into his mouth but then Harry softly licked your top lip and moved his lips gently to the edge of your mouth and down to your jaw and spoke into the curve of where your neck and jaw met, “When does your mom get home?”

You would have rolled your eyes at him but his lips were brushing down your neck and your brain didn’t seem to work very well around Harry. You sighed and closed your eyes, “A couple of hours,” you spoke softly.

Harry let go of your wrists and stood from the bed, removing the lid from the box and dumping its contents out. He lifted the little dildo and raised his brows at you, “Good. Then you have time to show me how you use this on yourself,” he walked to stand over you where you sat and you tilted your head back to look up at him.

“Harry… come on. Seriously…” you said as you started to shake your head.

Harry tilted his head to the side and looked at the dildo and then down at you before getting to his knees on the floor and crawling between your legs, moving them apart to fit himself in, and placing the dildo down by your thigh, “What if I beg you?” He put his arms on either side of your lap and gave you, what you could only describe as puppy dog eyes, “Say yes, please. I want to see it. Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he rounded his eyes like he did and spoke so sweetly, using, please?

You closed your eyes and shook your head with a smile, “Harry, you’re insane,” you laughed before opening your eyes to look back at the man between your legs. He moved his hands up to the tops of your thighs and kept his eyes soft on you, “Please, Y/n?”

You huffed a breath through your nose and brought a hand up to his jaw, “Okay. Then you’ll need to do something for me next time I ask. No matter what it is.”

Harry nodded and hoisted himself up to crawl over you, making your back hit the mattress and he pressed his mouth onto your neck. You felt him pluck at the front of your shorts to unbutton them and then he swiftly moved them down your legs before pushing you further into your bed as he stayed over you.

He sat up and ran both hands on the insides of your thighs and pushed your legs further apart. You were still wearing your panties when Harry began to thumb over the spot where your clit was hidden under the cotton of your underwear.

“Gonna get you all wet first,” he looked from where his thumb was up to your face, “which shouldn’t be hard since you love my fingers on you. Don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and looked down to where his hand was, “You’re so full of yourself.”

Harry let out a loud laugh and removed his hand. He stopped for a moment as he looked down at you before tearing your panties down your legs and behind him into the floor. Harry scooted himself so he was latched on to your pussy with his mouth and that effectively shut you up.

Harry’s mouth was good. He was good, there just wasn’t any other way to put it really. He knew what he was doing when it came to cunnilingus and you loved being on the receiving end. And it was obvious Harry loved giving head too.

The moment you were drenching his chin he backed away with a gasp and looked over your pussy, “All wet. Now it’s time to show me what you do with this little thing,” he said as he lifted the dildo up and pressed it over your clit.

You bucked up toward it and Harry smiled, “Oh? Do you want me to use it on you?” He smiled down at you as he lowered the silicone tip to your entrance, “I’ll do it for a little bit but then I want to watch how you do it.”

Harry pushed the toy inside of your cunt and you closed your eyes. You’d never had a man use a toy on you before so it felt so vulnerable to be lying on your childhood bed letting a cop fuck you with your old dildo.

“Not as big as me, but this works nicely for you I bet. Look how wet you are, Y/n…” Harry slid the dildo out and lifted it up and you opened your eyes to see. Yes, it was shiny, clearly, your arousal had covered the thing in its entirety and you nodded.

Harry dipped the toy back in and then pulled it out, then pressed it back in slowly, the sound of your wet pussy being parted with the silicone toy was actually pretty hot. You moaned and pushed your t-shirt up and squeezed your breasts. In all honesty, you were sure that you were feeling so good because Harry was doing it to you. Harry was so fucking gorgeous, and his deep, raspy voice egging you on was so hot.

After he pumped it into you a few more times Harry stopped, leaving the toy inside of you and pulled one of your hands down to grasp the dildo, “Okay. Now you do it. I want to know how you masturbate with this. Looks so pretty already, Y/n.”

Harry sat back and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock from the front of his briefs. That got you going even more. The view of his cock in his hand while you pressed the skinny dildo in and pulled it out a little.

After some pushing and pulling into and out of yourself with the dildo, you decided it was time to add your fingers to your clit. So, with one hand you rubbed your little button and with your other you fucked yourself. Harry’s cock was so hard and long in his hand and the sight of it was yummy. You watched him stroke himself as he watched you with the toy in your pussy.

You went faster, really getting the toy as deep as it could go, making it nearly disappear on each inward thrust and Harry’s breaths got deeper as he spit over his tip and smoothed his saliva down his shaft, “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking pretty. You gonna come on that little dildo for me?”

You needed to concentrate, because as good as it felt with Harry’s eyes on you and the dildo inside, you could only imagine Harry inside of you at that moment. His cock really filled you up and pressed into parts that the dildo couldn’t reach. You closed your eyes and panted as you quickened the pace of your fingers on your clit and continued pumping the dildo.

Harry’s own little noises were sending you too. You were spread out before him and Harry knew he could come easily like this, but he could see you were struggling.

You felt the bed shift and you opened your eyes to see Harry on his knees, pushing his jeans down further, and then his hand was covering yours, pulling the dildo out, “I think you need something a little bigger in there right now. What do you think?”

Harry put the dildo down on the bed and scooted himself between your legs and the whine you let out was pathetic as you nodded, “Yes. Fuck me please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was dipping his large cock inside of you, stretching your muscle and fucking you like you needed.

Harry lifted your legs and put them on his shoulder as he continued rolling into you. Everything was loud and fast. The bed was nearly bouncing off the floor with the way he was pounding into you and your pussy was so happy a real cock was inside of you. And once again, you realized Harry was inside of you with no condom. You guys were asking for trouble. You were okay as far as birth control was considered, but you hadn’t discussed anything further. Harry could be diseased for all you knew but your brain only worked at half capacity when his cock was in view. Or inside of you. And all you knew, despite your better judgment, was that having him without a condom was like having full-fat, real-sugar ice cream with all the toppings as opposed to sugar-free vanilla with only one or two toppings. The condom really did make a difference in the way it felt and it still felt really good with Harry but without one, you felt all his ridges, and his warmth and the sound of his dick pushing into your wetness was even better. He also somehow felt harder and thicker without the condom, if that were possible.

“That’s what you needed, isn’t it? Needed this cock,” Harry panted his words between breaths.

You moaned and grabbed for the back of his thighs to keep hold of something.

“Tell me you needed my cock, Y/n…” Harry slowed his hips and looked down at you.

You weren’t in a state to answer him like he wanted. Your thighs were shaking, your heart was pounding, and your head was mush. The way he was sinking into you made your gut tighten.

But when Harry stopped altogether he lowered your legs, your feet hitting the mattress and Harry leaned over you, “Tell me,” he grasped your chin in his hand as he rutted upward into you causing you to gasp for breath at the harsh thrust, “that you need this cock, Y/n.”

Harry just wanted to hear it. He wanted the pleasure of you telling him you needed his cock. That would have made his whole week. He loved it when he was wanted and needed. And he also wanted to hear you say it because he wanted to tell you he needed your pussy. It was the closest he could allow himself to get to saying (or thinking) that he needed you or hoping that you needed him. So, the next best thing was if you needed his cock.

You looked at the man above you and realized he meant it. He wanted you to say it and so you nodded and breathed your words out, “I need your cock, Harry.”

The smallest quirk of a smile broke out on his face when he responded, “Fuck that’s good,” as he began to rock into you slowly, “Because I need your pussy, Y/n.”

And when Harry dipped down and kissed you as he continued thrusting into you, it became clear to you why he wanted you to say it. You understood what he really wanted with the kiss he gave you. The soft brush of his lips on yours, the way his tongue ran along the seam of your lips, and how both of his hands moved up to your face, holding you in place as he continued peppering deep kisses to your mouth, slipping his tongue past your lips.

You were in heaven every time Harry kissed you. It wasn’t something you could explain. Your feelings were hard to identify, especially because you hadn’t known Harry that long. You’d watched and read plenty of romances. You knew about the fabled existence of falling hard for someone too fast. You’d just never experienced it in real life and didn’t think it was something that would happen to you. So you wanted to be very careful. You trusted Harry but did he even know what he was doing to you? Did he see it happening to himself?

If you were to select a type to fall for quickly, you’d easily answer it was Harry’s type. Sweet and spicy and stubborn. Handsome, obviously. And it’s not like you were really looking for anyone. Your plan was to continue doing your thing for a few more years and then you’d retire and let life happen to you from there. You never saw yourself settling down with anyone. You figured you wouldn’t really find anyone that you could stand for too long. And who would be able to stand you and your smart mouth either? It would be easier to just have the occasional thing with someone here and there. You wouldn’t rule out meeting someone who could be a partner for you, but you doubted anyone would want to stick around for too long.

And you still felt that way. You felt like Harry would grow weary of your attitude. He deserved a nice woman with a regular job, who was honest and thoughtful. You weren’t any of that and any man you might fall for would deserve a little more than you could give certainly.

You felt the blissful unfolding of your orgasm spread over your middle as Harry’s lips stayed on yours and his cock turned your insides to molten lava. You gasped at how deep he was. His hips were pressed into yours and it gave you what you needed inside and out, rubbing into your clit perfectly.

“You want my come inside of you again, Y/n? Yeah?” Harry moved his mouth away from yours and looked down at you as he ravaged your inner walls with his thick length.

You kept your mouth parted as you nodded and whimpered his name. He could feel your pussy clamping down on him just as you were about to come so he thrust into you harder, deeper, his groin pressing over your clit in synch with his thrust and you cried out, holding onto his back for dear life, your fingers pressing into the muscles on his lats and he groaned when he felt your spasming orgasm around him, squeezing and pulsing.

Harry kept driving into you, the bed below you squeaked and for a moment you thought it could break from the movement but then you heard Harry’s groan and he said your name as he moved his mouth over yours and spurted his come into you before you were even done coming. You tried returning the kiss but your lips wouldn’t close as you trembled and moaned.

Harry rutted up into you a few more times, pumping his come inside of you before pressing up and burying himself into you, stopping his movements as he let himself feel you around him as he came down from yet another orgasm for the day.

Harry laid over you and kissed your cheek softly as you both caught your breaths, your heart rate slowly normalizing. It was quiet and gentle. You put your hand into his hair and ran your fingers through his curls with your eyes closed.

But then you heard something outside of your bedroom and both your and Harry’s eyes widened as you quickly looked at one another.

“Fuck,” you whispered as Harry pulled out and jumped off your bed. He tossed you your shorts and he quickly slid his jeans up his legs. Both of you still had your t-shirts on luckily so you were partially dressed. You pulled your shorts up your legs and winced as Harry’s come dripped down your thigh. The shorts would need to be changed out for something else to wear after you investigated the noise that had come from inside the house.

You heard it again, the sound of someone moving things, setting things down.

You quickly opened your door and Harry grabbed your wrist and spoke quietly, “Behind me,” he said as he pulled you to his back and slid out of the room in front of you, sneakily walking into the hallway and then quietly moving into the living room. You followed close behind, Harry’s large frame covering you from seeing much beyond his back.

“What the fuck?!” You heard a familiar voice shriek and Harry’s tense stance loosened as he laughed and turned to you, moving out of your way so you could see who the intruder was.

But you knew who it was the moment you heard her voice. Raechel. You told her you were headed back to your mom's and that you wanted her to drop by. You forgot all about that, though, as soon as Harry started playing around with you. You slapped your hand to your forehead.

Raechel stood with her mouth dropped open as she looked from you to Harry and then back to you. She sort of looked like she was about to leave with her purse on her shoulder and the way she was standing close to the front door.

“Uh… this is Harry,” you gestured toward the man next to you and then pointed at Raechel, “Harry, this is Raechel.”

Harry nodded at Raechel, “Nice to meet you, Raechel,” he moved forward and stuck his hand out to shake but she only looked down at his hand and then back to you before responding to Harry, “Did you at least wash your hands? I heard you guys, so…” she trailed off and the look on her face was still surprise and confusion.

You laughed and shook your head, “Well, we sort of didn’t have time when we heard you in here. Thought it was my mom for a second.”

After you and Harry cleaned up a bit and you changed your shorts for a skirt, the three of you sat in your mom’s living room and tried to forget about the awkward greeting you’d just had.

Raechel kept looking Harry over and you could tell she was a little uncomfortable. Which was understandable given that she heard him fucking you before she ever even met him.

“Y/n, um… can I talk to you in private for a sec?” She looked at Harry with a smile.

You nodded, “Sure.”

You went into the backyard and sat on the porch swing together. She wanted to know who he was and where you met him and all the details about him right away. Some man you’d never once told her about that you were now bringing to your mom’s house. A man whom she heard fucking you the moment she walked into the house.

But it wasn’t easy to explain. Not when you weren’t sure what to say just yet. Was it okay to tell her he was a cop? That he had been trailing you? That you were considered a suspect for the crimes you’d committed? She knew what you did for a living already so it might not be much of a surprise to her but it wasn’t as easy as just a nice little story like we met at a volunteer outing and the rest is history!

So you told her bits and pieces but left out big details because you needed to know what Harry was okay with you saying. She wasn’t satisfied with your answer.

“So, you’re not going to tell me much then? Is he in cahoots with you? Like, you know… stealing and stuff?”

You laughed and shook your head, “No, it’s not like that. I’ll tell you soon. I promise. But it’s a long story and we’ll want to sit down and discuss it in detail when the time comes. But right now is probably not the best time to do that.”

She smiled and nodded toward the house and turned back to you with her eyebrows raised, “But he’s good in bed?” She chuckled. She heard enough to surmise that you were getting it good when she walked in.

You coughed out a laugh and looked toward the house and back at Raechel, “The best.”

Your mom came home not long after your “talk” with Raechel and the four of you decided to go out for Mexican food. There weren’t many restaurants in Cottonwood but Macias restaurant was pretty good for small-town California. Your favorite was the cheese enchiladas with salsa verde.

You all cozied up into a booth and ordered your meal and margaritas. The sun was going down and the restaurant was playing some classic banda-style music. You and Harry sat next to each other while Raechel and your mom sat across from you. You noticed the way your mom was eyeing you and she was being nice not to scare Harry away with a million questions. But you were pretty sure that at that point any questions Harry was asked wouldn’t scare him away given the little secret between you two.

“So, Harry, are you going to stay over tonight? There’s only one motel here in Cottonwood and I wouldn’t recommend it to my enemies,” your mom said as she sipped her salty margarita (Macias usually put a bit too much salt on the rim of the glass that wound up melting into the drink).

Harry tapped his fingers on the table and looked down at you before answering your mother, “I figured I’d just get a room at the motel tonight. I don’t want to be a bother to you in your home.”

Your mom snorted a laugh and nudged at Raechel’s side, “Doesn’t want to be a bother yet takes my daughter away with him to god knows where after I haven’t seen her in so long…”

You tapped the table and raised your brows, “Mom…” you warned her.

She put her hands up, “Sorry… it’s just that I don’t think having Harry stay over is going to put me out in any way more than… well, it’s just that I think I’d like to have you stay for a week like you said but then a handsome, mysterious man shows up and you leave with him and it’s all so secretive and strange…” she paused and laughed, “I’m thinking this second margarita is making me forget my manners, but come on… you have to admit this is all very suspicious,” she waved toward you and Harry.

Raechel kept her eyes on you and nodded with a humph in agreement with your mom.

You smiled and sighed, “Can you blame me?” You batted your lashes with a grin and looked up at Harry, pinching his arm a little. You were trying to deflect from your mom’s scrutiny. She had every right to be suspicious, though.

“But you’re right mom,” you looked at your mom with a smile, “I promise to stay here with you for a week. Soon. And I’ll tell you everything. Maybe I’ll even be coming around more.”

You figured now that you had the police on you, you couldn’t do any more jobs or you’d surely get caught. It was probably time to lay low from now on. You could be happy with the amount of money you’d saved over the years. Your brokerage account was nice with a healthy amount of dividends already coming in every month. You’d continue to slowly deposit the cash you still had stashed around your apartment and then move that over to your brokerage account. You could live out your days with the money you currently had. There was no real reason to continue doing what you’d been doing until you turned 30.

Your mom had convinced Harry to stay over. She would make him a spot to sleep on the couch and he was secretly relieved he didn’t have to sleep in one of those awful beds at the Travelers Motel again. But he was a little bit concerned about doing something inappropriate in your mom’s home.

After Raechel left you, your mom, and Harry watched a few shows on television but you were exhausted. Harry stretched his body out on the couch and fell asleep rather quickly and when your head hit the pillow on your bed you were in dreamland in no time.

So when you woke up in your dark room and felt a large hand cover your mouth you blinked your eyes open and your heart jumped in your chest and you were foggy and confused. You tried to make the figure out above you but it was too dark and your brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders quite yet.

The large frame over you pulled you up and violently yanked you into their arms and that’s when you saw another large figure standing by your door. Your eyes widened to take in as much light as possible so you could see but then you felt something pinch your arm and you gasped into the palm over your mouth. You kicked your leg and felt your toe hit your nightstand which hurt like a motherfucker but it knocked your cell phone off the edge and onto the floor.

Heavy breaths, grabby hands, muffled words, a soft and comforting buzz throughout your body, and then shouting. A light above. A struggle.

You felt the floor under your back and you closed your eyes and knew Harry’s voice in the chaos. You heard the commotion but you were slowly being lulled into dreamland once again.

Harry heard the noise from your room and he was up in less than a second to check on you but that’s when he saw the man at your bedroom door, his back to the hallway. Big mistake. Because the man didn’t see Harry and Harry could see that there was another man in your room. Harry knew they’d leave from the front door when he turned back to the living room and realized they’d come in through the front door because it had been left ajar. Harry soundlessly made his way to his duffle bag and pulled out his gun, slipping the magazine into the grip handle and getting it ready to use if necessary. He looked out the window to make sure there weren’t more men and realized it was just the two idiots.

He silently walked back to your bedroom and stuck the gun to the neck of the guy who should have been on the lookout and spoke calmly, “Let her go.”

The man who had you in his arms dropped the needle he’d poked into the skin of your arm and you fell to the floor with a thud. Harry turned the light on and saw that the two men in your room both had ski masks and the one that was closest to you pulled his own gun out and aimed it at you, “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot her,” his fabric stifled words barked.

Harry pressed the gun harder into the lookout’s neck and shook his head, “You won’t shoot her. You need her for whoever hired you. Now put your gun down. Now!” Harry moved the man he was holding into the room further and he heard your mother behind him suddenly.

“Go back into your room! Call 911! Tell them we have two armed intruders,” Harry shouted at your mother, not turning to look back at her but keeping his eyes on the man with the gun aimed at your thigh.

“That’s a big mistake. This girl is wanted by the cops. If you call them she’s going to prison. We’ll get a slap on the wrist,” the man with the gun tried to reason.

“Wrong. I’m a cop and you’ve threatened me and my safety. That will land you in prison,” Harry scoffed and moved in closer to the man with the gun.

“A fucking cop? What?”

Harry kept the gun at the neck of the man in front of him while he patted him down with his other hand to check for a weapon. He found a gun tucked in the back of his pants and pulled it out, still keeping his eyes on the man with the gun and keeping his own gun tucked into the lookout’s neck. Harry shoved the man down to the floor and put his foot onto the middle of his back and now had the gun aimed at the man who was standing over you.

Both of Harry’s hands were now on his gun, raised in a stance to shoot, aimed right at the other man’s head, “Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot you.”

The man with the gun raised his hands in surrender and slowly knelt down, putting the gun on the ground.

Harry stepped harder into the middle of the back of the man who was under him, keeping his gun aimed at the man next to you, “Kick the gun away from yourself.”

The man complied. He knew he was fucked. Harry was trained and they didn’t realize they were breaking into a house where there was a cop inside.

When Harry had both men on the ground, face down, hands zip-tied behind their backs he knelt between them and lifted your arm to check your pulse. You’d be okay.

“What did you give her?” Harry looked at the needle on the ground and back to the man who seemed like the brains of the operation.

The man told him what was in the needle and then Harry asked who sent them. He wanted an answer. Who hired them and what did they want?

Neither man wanted to talk. But when Harry twisted the wrist of the lookout and pressed his knee into his back he spoke lowly into his ear, “Tell me what you want with her.”

“She stole something important! We were just going to get it back is all!” The man whined as Harry put his weight into where his knee was digging in and twisted his arm harder.

“Give me a name,” Harry growled at the man just as he heard the sirens of police approaching.

Harry didn’t get a name but as he suspected, they were hired to kidnap you and hold you for ransom or get the important item back for whoever had hired them.

The paramedics looked you over as the two men were put into handcuffs and placed in separate cop cruisers. Harry showed his badge and told them who he was and that he’d been on a case that was a dead end. He came clean about some of the details but not all. This would get back to his boss for sure. He lied and said he was on a stakeout in his car when the men entered.

Your mother was beside herself but Harry kept her calm and told her she’d done well. With his arms around your mom, as you were loaded into the back of an ambulance, he helped her into his car to follow it to the hospital, “You did exactly what you should have. You even had them bring an ambulance. Y/n is going to be just fine.”

And Harry told your mom everything on the short trip to the hospital. She saw his badge and how he had a gun and told the other police who he was. But he reassured her that you weren’t going to be going to jail, “I don’t have any evidence and even if there was, I wouldn’t be taking her to jail.”

You woke up with a headache and a sour stomach. It felt a lot like when you woke up after Oregano had given you something. Painful and grating.

Your mom was in your view the moment your eyes popped open, “Y/n! Honey! Look, Harry!”

And then you saw Harry over you, his messy curls hanging in his face.

After a series of questions, filing a report, and one last check-in with the doctor you were free to go.

You learned about what had happened from both Harry and your mom. You always knew what you did was putting you at risk for something like that, you just never thought it would happen to you. Attempted kidnapping? Someone had hired these men to come after you. Would it be possible there were others out there too?

And for the first time, you were scared of what was going to happen next, rather than looking forward to what the day held. You’d always thrived on not knowing and the thrill of throwing caution to the wind. But now you were terrified. You weren’t safe anymore.

You stayed in your room with your mom bringing you water and speaking softly to you. Harry popped in to tell you it was okay and that he wasn’t going anywhere. But you just needed a minute to wrap your head around it all. What if Harry hadn’t been there? And you couldn’t remember most of what had even happened to you and that was terrifying. Whatever they’d been looking for was long gone. You never kept anything you stole (except a few purses and nice coats). What would happen if they found out? Would they just then kill you? God, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing about the what-ifs.

When the sun began to set Raechel came over and you finally decided to move into the living room with everyone. Your mom had ordered pizza from the Eagle’s Nest and Raechel picked it up on her way over.

You listened as Harry explained everything to Raechel and you learned that he’d already told your mom everything. You ate your slice of pizza slowly and everything just felt so far away and strange to you. You didn’t have much to say. Not yet anyway.

Harry wasn’t sure if you wanted his comfort or not. Everything was still so new for him too and what had just happened to you was traumatizing. So he decided to give you space as he sat in the armchair on the opposite side of the couch from where you were sitting.

Raechel stayed for a couple of hours but you were clearly tired and not thriving with company. Your mom cleaned up and Harry helped while you stayed on the couch like a zombie looking at the television. You heard them talking and didn’t care to know what they were saying. But you did note how scared you were feeling and how you didn’t want to be left alone in a room by yourself anymore. So you stood from your spot and walked into the kitchen to be near your mom and Harry.

They both turned to look at you and your mom pulled a chair out for you and helped you sit. You scoffed, “I can sit down on my own mom.” But you were thankful for her kindness and care. It did make you feel good.

Harry just watched from where he stood and then leaned against the cabinet as your mom sat next to you, “I know, honey. I just want to help. You’re okay physically but I’m still your mom…” she laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

You smiled at her and glanced over at Harry who hadn’t made his way over to you yet. Which suddenly stung a bit. Was he going to start being cold toward you again? You needed to feel safe and you wanted him as close as possible but he wasn’t budging from his spot as he looked at you with pity.

“Thanks, mom. I know. I appreciate it,” you gave her a weak smile and your heart felt heavy. You had the sudden urge to cry. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because of what had happened to you. It made you feel so violated. The men who came to get you both had guns and masks and drugged you. And now everything in your life would be different from then on. You’d probably have to move from your apartment and go into hiding if there were others after you. And now, the man with whom you felt so safe and comforted was standing as far away from you as possible, making no move to show you the kindness and care you needed.

The first tear that drizzled down your face when your lip began to quiver your mom saw, “Oh sweetie… it’s okay to cry, honey…” she rubbed your back and took one of your hands in hers.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone but you couldn’t help it. More tears ran down your cheek and the longer Harry was silent and remained standing across the room away from you the more you cried. Finally, you were pissed and you stood up, looking down at your mom, “Thank you, mom. I’m going to go into my room now.”

You slammed the door behind you and lay on your bed and cried. It felt so ridiculous to cry but your emotions were everywhere. You had no control over the way you felt at that moment. You reasoned that it was because of what had happened to you, and you understood the way it made you feel was confusing, but you really couldn’t get over the way Harry didn’t even try to comfort you. It hurt because you’d started feeling things for him and you just knew that if he wrapped you in his arms and you could bury your face into his chest and inhale his scent you’d feel so much better. But you were too stubborn to ask for that. He should just know that’s what you wanted. Obviously.

You wound up falling asleep, exhausted from the day, exhausted from your tears and your confusion. Exhausted from thinking about Harry.

Your mom went to bed, leaving her door wide open in case you needed her. Harry checked on you and saw you asleep on top of your covers, still dressed in your clothes. He wanted to help you into something more comfortable and pull you into his arms on your bed and listen to you breathe while you slept but he didn’t know if you wanted that. He figured it was better to wait until you told him you wanted him near.

Early the next morning Harry woke from his phone ringing. It was Rebecca.

He stood up from the couch and answered, “Hold on one minute…” he spoke into the phone. He didn’t want to wake anyone but he wanted to check on you first.

He saw you snuggled under your blankets on your bed and you looked like you were still asleep.

He turned and walked out the front door to speak to his boss.

“Hi, Volanti,” he said with a sigh.

She found out about the attempted kidnapping and told Harry he’d done good to follow the men into your mom’s house and stop them from taking you. She informed him that now that he’d been made, he’d be off the case. Harry listened to her tell him all the things he already knew.

He was to come back to LA and get his reassignment and in the meantime, she’d keep the case open but it would be a low priority since there wasn’t tangible evidence, “But, Styles, I have a feeling she is our girl. I know you said you don’t think so, and she’ll probably be laying low now that this has happened, but I have a gut feeling about it. The good news is, if there is any in this situation, is that this may scare her from doing it again in the future. And now that we know where she lives, where her mother is, and everything you’ve found out for us, we can keep an eye on her if she does slip up.”

It wasn’t the worst news but now Harry was expected back in LA. But he didn’t want to leave your side. What if more men were after you? He felt like you needed protection.

“I’m hesitant to leave so fast. If I wasn’t here she’d have been kidnapped. What do you think the chances are that others are after her?”

When you woke up the house was silent and your thoughts immediately swung to Harry. You sat up and looked at your cell phone. It was still relatively early. You moved your feet off your bed and stood up, stretching your arms overhead with a yawn.

In the living room, there was no Harry to be seen, but you could see he’d been on the couch with crumpled blankets bunched in the center. He wasn’t in the kitchen but you did see his duffle bag. You peeked out the front window and you saw him pacing, talking to someone on his phone. He looked stressed. Upset. Your heart dropped.

You went back to your room and closed the door. You had no reason to feel the way you were. To be so unsure of yourself and long for Harry the way you did. You two barely knew one another. Why would he feel the same way for you? Why did you feel anything at all? It made your head hurt trying to work out your thoughts and your emotions.

You heard him walk back in and your ears perked up. He wasn’t on the phone anymore, that much was obvious. You could hear shuffling and then you heard the bathroom door close.

You needed to get it together. To confront him and find out what was going on. To find out if he meant what he said when he asked you to stay with him.

So you went into the living room after running your fingers through your hair and trying to make yourself look at least a little cute. You sat on the couch and waited for him to come out. The moment he saw you his eyes widened, “Hey. How are you feeling?”

He walked in front of the coffee table and sat in the armchair. Away from you. And that had you feeling that squeeze in your chest again. The searing one that made you feel like he definitely didn’t feel the same way about you. How could he not see it?

“I’m better. But what’s going on, Harry?” You sat with your back into the cushions of the couch and kept your eyes on him.

Harry squished his brows together and shook his head, “What do you mean?”

“Like… I don’t know. Are you staying? Do you still…” you really didn’t want to finish what you were going to say, do you still want me around?

Harry crooked his head to the side and kept his eyes on you, “I have to leave. Back to LA. I’m being reassigned. So, I can’t stay for much longer. I told my boss I thought you should have protection for a bit longer but the local police are making the rounds. And your mom is here…” Harry trailed off when he saw the look on your face.

You tried to calm yourself. You couldn’t understand why you were so worked up about a man that you’d just met. No man was worth it. This you’d learned from your mom a long time ago. And now Harry was getting out as soon as he had the chance.

“Fine. Your job is done here. You can get your shit and go.”

Harry sat up straight and a look of confusion tore over his face, “What?”

You stood up from the couch and pointed at his bag, “Get your shit and go back to LA. You’re done, aren’t you? No need to stick around me anymore.”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to feel hurt by you because he knew you were reacting to what he’d just said. But it did hurt. That was it? You wanted him gone?

Harry stood up and ran a hand through his hair and laughed, “So, that’s it for you? You just want me out of here?”

You nodded, “Yep.”

Harry shook his head and blew a breath out from his mouth and looked up at the ceiling and back to you. He wanted to be level-headed but you made him crazy. He looked back down at you with your arms crossed over your chest and he couldn’t help himself when he said it, “Good. You’re more trouble than it’s worth.”

He scowled at you, knowing his words were hurtful but you hurt him. He stepped toward his bag and knelt down to stuff something inside and then zipped it up. He stood up with his bag in his hand and pointed at you, “I’m disappointed in myself that I believed all the lies you told me. You really had me going, Y/n. I thought you liked me. At least a little,” and then he turned and headed toward the door, opening it and pausing for a moment. He hoped you’d say something. He hoped you’d stop him and tell him you didn’t mean it. But instead, he heard your sniff and a small gasp of breath so he turned and looked at you. You had tears on your cheeks and your hands were by your sides, balled into fists.

Harry frowned when he saw the state you were in but then you were charging toward him, your face red, “You asshole!” you said louder than you meant to, knowing your mother was still asleep. But you were angry and you couldn’t control the volume of your voice, “Don’t say that to me! You have been distant from me and I can tell you’re happy to be leaving finally. And you said it yourself, I’m not worth the trouble so you can fuck off,” you pushed at his chest and couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It was embarrassing. You were making a scene and crying in front of Harry while he was stoic and unbothered by you at all.

“You’re fucking mad, Y/n. You know that? I was trying to give you space! You had a traumatic thing happen to you and I didn’t want to crowd you. But you’re obviously ready for me to get out of your hair so I’ll make it easy for you.”

You grasped the front of his t-shirt, “You’re a coward! You put all this on me! I didn’t know what to do with myself and I thought you’d at least try and comfort me or something! Fuck!” You balled the material into your hands tightly, “But you’re ready to get out of here the moment Rebecca tells you it’s the time!”

Harry scoffed and dropped his bag to the floor, putting his hands over yours to pry them off of his shirt, “If you want me gone I’m gone, Y/n. Let go!”

Suddenly your mom was behind you, “What’s going on here?” She saw you grasping Harry’s shirt and the tears on your face. She heard the emotion in Harry’s voice and the look on his face.

It was that moment that your mom saw everything for what it was. You were both being stubborn and blamed the other for hurt feelings when the reality was so clear to anyone who could see you two.

“I was just leaving, ma’am,” Harry started to speak but your mom started laughing.

“Oh? And clearly, you want to leave and Y/n here is just shoving you out the door huh? You two are ridiculous. Look at yourselves,” she gestured toward the both of you standing close, Harry’s hands clutched over yours. “Do you not see it? For fuck’s sake you’re both acting like children.”

Harry loosened his grip on your hands and you let go of his shirt as you both turned to face your mom. You pointed at Harry, “He was going to just leave. After everything. He got the call to go back and so he was out as quick as he could be.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah? And you told me to get my shit and leave. Didn’t even give me chance to talk to you or anything,” He looked down at you.

Your mom shook her head, “Since I’m clearly the only adult in the room right now, I’m sending you both to Y/n’s room,” she raised her brows and pointed at Harry, “you’re not going anywhere until you two have spoken first. And Y/n,” she looked at you with a look of warning, “you better not fuck this up. You need to calm down and listen to the man instead of getting all bent out of shape like I know you do. Tell him the truth. Be honest with each other.”

Harry let out a breath and shook his, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I think she wants me gone and I’m not in the mood…”

Your mom stood in front of Harry and looked up at him, her finger pointed toward the hallway, “You aren’t leaving until you two have spoken. If after you two hash it out and find you don’t want to stick around and she wants you gone, well then, you’re free to go.”

“Mom, please…” you spoke but she shook her head and she picked up Harry’s bag, holding it close to her body, “Shut up and do what I said. You’re both acting like idiots. Go and talk now. You get this back when I’ve decided it’s time, Harry,” she jutted her chin toward the hallway.

Harry looked down at you and then back to your mom and you huffed in frustration as you stomped toward your bedroom, Harry following behind. You passed through into your bedroom and Harry stopped at the doorway, still wanting to make sure you even wanted him to follow you but your mom was right behind him, “Get in there. And you both better be honest with each other,” she looked from Harry to you, “because if you’re honest, I think you’ll find that you both feel the same way about each other. So stop being dumb.” She pushed Harry and closed the door behind him.

You sat on the edge of your unmade bed and looked down at your feet. You knew you were an overreactor when your feelings were hurt. You were either cold and detached, or overreacting and emotional. In this case, you were being very emotional and definitely overreacting. But that’s because the truth was that you really liked Harry and all you wanted was for him to return your feelings.

“You didn’t let me even try and tell you what I wanted,” Harry spoke first as he paced the room.

You looked up at him, “Well here’s your chance.”

Harry stopped pacing and turned to you, “I told you that I was being reassigned. That my boss wants me back in LA. And then I guess… I just wanted to know what your reaction would be to that but I didn’t expect you to blow up and tell me to leave. I hoped you’d want to come with me or ask me to stay or… I just didn’t expect you to tell me to leave like that.”

You watched him start to pace again as you responded, “And you didn’t even want to be next to me Harry. Last night or this morning. I needed some comfort. I wanted your care but you stayed as far away from me as possible, so yeah, I assumed that was it and that you were ready to go.”

Harry stitched his brows together and looked out your window, “I didn’t know if you wanted me close, Y/n. Everyone responds to trauma differently and I didn’t want to push it. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to comfort you. I just wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

You breathed out a laugh through your nose and shook your head, “And it felt like you made it clear that you didn’t want to be around. Telling me you were leaving and that I had local police here and my mom… so, if that’s what you want…”

Harry interrupted, “No. Stop. Let’s not assume anything about each other for a minute. I think we’ve got it wrong and we’ve both had our feelings hurt and we’re acting based on hurt emotions,” he spoke calmly and walked toward the bed, sitting next to you, “I don’t want to go, Y/n,” he looked from the floor over to you, “Or, at least if I do, I kind of hoped you’d want to come with me.”

You’d heard him say it twice now. That he hoped you’d go with him. You considered his words for a moment and sighed, “I do want that. I wanted you to tell me to come with you or something. To hold me and make me feel safe and tell me everything was going to be okay. Last night that’s what I needed but you kept your distance and it made me feel sick. Made me feel like I imagined everything you told me. And I know we don’t know one another that well,” you kept your eyes on his, “but… I don’t know. I just… figured it could have all been in my head that you felt about me the way I feel about you. Especially after telling me I’m more trouble than it’s worth. That really hurt, Harry.”

If your mother had heard you at that moment she’d have been proud of you for your honesty and total vulnerability. But you were very much still in your head and guarding yourself in case of any pushback from Harry.

Harry dropped his gaze down over your t-shirt and then back up to your face and pulled you into his arms, pressing your face into his chest. Just like you wanted last night. Just like you wanted this morning.

He didn’t say anything at first, instead, he just kept his arms tight around your body and smoothed a hand up and down your back. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and relaxed in his arms, placing your own arms around his middle and inhaling his scent. Comfort. Safety.

“I wasn’t lying. You didn’t imagine it. We both said it and I think we both should be better about saying what we want to each other instead of trying to act so tough,” Harry pressed his lips onto your forehead, “I am so sorry for saying you aren’t worth it. God that was dumb,” he kissed your forehead again, “And it’s not true at all. I think you’re incredible actually. I want you to come with me. I want to keep you around. Is that what you want?”

You smiled into his t-shirt and nodded, “Yeah. And this,” you said as you squeezed him harder and so he squeezed back until you were both laughing and Harry loosened his grip and brought a hand to the back of your neck and dropped his lips to yours.

You don’t know how long it was that you and Harry were making out like teenagers on your bed, but your mother knocked on the door, interrupting the moment before it could get too steamy, “Okay, I heard you guys laughing and now I’m concerned that you’re both naked. Please don’t have sex in my house. I’m still a mom. Come out when you’re decent.”

You laughed and Harry smiled down at you, his hand still at the back of your neck. He pushed his lips over yours once more and then parted from you, nudging his nose to the side of yours, “I like you.”

You held onto his biceps and smiled with your nose still pressed into his, “I like you too, Harry.”

Your mom was happy to hear you’d worked it out. And that you were staying for another day. You would leave with Harry the following morning to head back to LA with him.

“You better keep an eye on my daughter. She’s all I’ve got in this world. If you hurt her I’ll kill you. I don’t care if you are a cop,” your mom pointed at Harry as she made coffee. She was mostly joking. Mostly.

Harry glanced at you with a smile. He was glad you had your mom. She was tough and smart and she raised you to be the same. But he was even happier that you were going back to LA with him. He wanted to keep you with him so he could make sure you were safe. He knew that you were probably out of danger, that there probably weren’t others out looking to kidnap you, but he couldn’t know that for sure and he knew he’d feel better to have you close. But also for his own sake. So he could see you and touch you and… he tried not to let his mind wander further. Not in the kitchen with your mom standing fifteen feet from him.

And you were finally getting what you needed from Harry because now he knew what that was. To stay near you. To hold your hand and brush his warm pads against your arm occasionally. To play around with you and not feel like he was going to hurt a delicate flower.

“You’re fucking up the recipe! Get out of the way!” Harry scolded you with a smile on his face as he bumped your hip from your spot so he could take over adding the ingredients to the bowl.

“Harry, it’s shepherd’s pie. There’s no way to fuck up the recipe,” you scoffed as you leaned over to watch him.

Harry stopped his hands mid-air and turned to you with a look of shock, “And that’s how I know you shouldn’t touch this sacred recipe. It’s not shepherd’s pie because this is made with beef. It’s cottage pie. Shepherd’s pie is made with lamb you absolute dolt. Get out of my kitchen!” He pointed toward the living room and went back to his work.

You laughed and your mom stood in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room watching you and Harry. She wasn’t sure yet about Harry but she liked his spice and his temperament. She liked how he handled you and after talking about what had gone wrong and why you’d been upset she understood why he kept his distance from you. She liked him. But she hoped he wouldn’t hurt you because who could know what the future held?

“Well, it’s not even pie if we’re being picky about semantics here. You British assholes act like you have a method but it’s the same shit and it’s just potato on top,” you pointed at the bowl and Harry ignored you as he opened up the refrigerator. You hopped up onto the counter and sat, watching Harry move about.

Harry took the bowl and added another ingredient and then he looked at you sitting on the counter. He didn’t know how he was going to keep it in his pants for another whole day. You two were at your mom’s and the next morning, super early, you’d both head out and the drive was long. You couldn’t really have at each other until you got to his house in Long Beach.

He put his hand over your knee and squeezed it and your heart did a little flip at his sudden sweetness. You liked how he could go from testy teasing to confection cute and then back again.

The three of you ate the cottage pie and watched a movie together. The day was relaxing and easy. A local police officer dropped by to ask some more questions and that was really the most action you’d had all day. Raechel had to work but she Facetimed you on her break and told you to take care on your way back to LA.

As you watched the movie you had your back leaned against Harry’s chest and his arm was draped over your front. It felt sweet and warm and you felt safe.

When you all decided to call it night you didn’t want to leave the comfort of Harry’s arms but you dragged yourself with a frown to your room and your mom commented about how silly you were being.

“It’s only for a night, Y/n. You’re in my house. I don’t want any funny business going on.”

But when the house was dark and quiet and you were sure your mom was asleep you crept into the living room and crawled over the top of Harry.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he lifted his blanket and opened his arms for you to climb atop.

“Yeah. I just want to sleep in your arms.”

So you settled on top of him and Harry shifted so it was more comfortable, wrapping his arms around you and finally, you fell into a deep dreamless sleep, comforted and happy and warm.

Part 6*

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#harry styles smut #detective!harry #criminal!reader #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #firstpost

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springcrafter · 6 months

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Man, the Antisemites are getting bold.

Friendly reminder that "from the river to the sea" is a chant calling for the extermination of half the world's Jewish populace. Like. I cannot believe that in the Year of the Lord 2023 I have to risk being targeted only so I can come out here and explain this.

And mind you I live in this shithole, I speak Hebrew, I get to see the worst of the worst that Jewish Israelis are saying. I'm not gonna repeat it because it could be triggering, but I'm also not gonna sit here and pretend everyone here is a peace-loving hippy. The difference being that vile attitudes are called out and made into outliers in broader society.

(Notably, I saw this when I was taking shelter from rockets on the stairwell - I live in a predominantly center-right area and when someone said something vile they were reminded that the Palestinians in Gaza aren't all Hamas, have no control of their fate, and also have it 100% worse than we ever will)

Thing is, Israelis are not a monolith and a sizable majority are unflinchingly critical of our government. Netanyahu put us in this position and he has so much blood on his hands it's not even a point worth making. By dividing and conquering and pretending that senseless violence is a show of strength, he has made us weaker. We're terrified and traumatized and he continues to perpetuate that fear and trauma to capitalize on it. He was right when he said this was our darkest hour, and he was the one who brought us here. All because he wants to stay in power and avoid going to jail. Over here we loathe him and criticize him more than anyone outside of Israel ever could.

I'm not behind him. I condemn his use of extreme violence and his disregard for Palestinian lives. I know the warmongers from either side don't care about their civilians and are happy to get rich from our suffering but he could at least pretend.

Listen. Call me a hippy, but I believe that everyone who calls this sliver of land their home should have a right to live here in peace. I believe in the right of the Palestinian people to independence and self-determination. Thing is, in my experience, "Free Palestine" is a slogan so vague that it can mean different things and I'm rather wary of it. Do you mean "free Palestine from the tyranny of its leaders and the Israeli occupation" or "free Palestine from all the Jews and kick them all to the sea"? It has become enough of a dogwhistle that I stopped trusting it and by extension, anyone who holds these views while conveniently ignoring the atrocities of October 7 and the frankly appalling reporting around the al-Ahli Arab Hospital explosion.

(It's the same with Zionism, and why I don't affiliate myself with the movement. I believe in the right of Jewish people to self-determination and a home in their ancestral homeland, and I think the unabashed Antisemitism I've seen lately justifies that position, but I cannot approve of the atrocities that have been done to get here or people who support and justify them)

My point is, if the (otherwise legitimate) Free Palestine movement is going to harbor, shelter and encourage Antisemitism - all I can say from here is, I see you. And while I would love to go elsewhere, alas, I'm stuck here, so that's not going to change.

(ETA: Thank you to the person in my replies for proving my point)

#jumblr #jewish tumblr #israel palestine conflict #israel palestine war #tw: antisemitism

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satansapostle6 · 4 months

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The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: Abandon All Hope

“Luke?”

“…Luke.”

“Luke!”

“Huh?!”

Luke Castellan woke with a start, gasping for air as he sat up in bed. Terrified and confused, he looked around him to get a sense of where he was, seeing Katherine beside him, looking concerned as she sat up in only her shirt and underwear that she’d gone to bed in.

“You were having a nightmare,” she told him gently, explaining the sweat he woke up in.

“Oh,” he breathed, slowly starting to remember the dream he’d been having.

“Was it Kronos again?” Katherine asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I think I had the same dream, a few nights ago,” she told him. “About the Underworld? Tartarus? …You talk in your sleep,” she explained.

“Oh. Yeah… That’s the dream I had,” he confirmed.

He realized he’d woken up wrapped in Katherine’s arms, shivering with terror in her chest. She looked like she’d really been concerned, sitting there with her hair swept over her other shoulder to accommodate him. She reached over to the bedside table in the motel room, handing him an open bottle of water.

“Here,” she said quietly.

Luke silently nodded in appreciation to thank her, quickly gulping down the water.

“He wants us to go,” he told her, sitting up all the way, “To the Underworld. Now.”

“I know. I’m having the dreams, too… He’s angry,” she nodded.

“We should leave,” he insisted.

“Can I at least put on some pants first?” Katherine sighed, getting up.

The two of them dressed and left as quickly as possible, checking out in a hurry. They climbed into the Pontiac with their minimal possessions, speeding off toward New York.

Katherine was dressed very practically for their eventual descent into the bottomless pit of the Underworld as she drove, in a black long-sleeved thermal and matching tank top underneath. Luke observed that her hair was especially sleek and shiny in the sunlight.

“What do you think it’s like?” he asked suddenly. “Tartarus,” he clarified.

“Hellish,” she said finally, after a moment of thought. “Empty. Maddening.”

“But those are just words… I wonder what it’s gonna feel like,” Luke admitted fearfully.

“We won’t know ‘til we know,” she sighed. “Do you have the compass?”

He nodded, pulling the silver disk out of his jacket pocket to show her.

“Ares said all we have to do is concentrate on what we’re looking for, Kronos, and the arrow will point us to where his remains are,” she relayed. “So as long as we stay focused, we’ll be fine. Eventually.”

Luke nodded along, not particularly thrilled about the journey.

“Do you… also have this pit in your stomach, that feels like only the beginning?” he asked her.

Katherine nodded. “Yeah.”

A silence lingered between them as all that could be heard was the radio. Both of them were internally panicking about the task ahead.

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking,” Luke said, trying to find something to fill the time.

“Yeah?” she asked, seeming focused on driving.

“Yeah. You know, at the camp, a lot of the kids are only there for the summer, when school’s out,” he pointed out, trying to figure out how she felt. “I was thinking, since I have a good excuse… Maybe I could take a couple months, off, here and there. And we could hit the road, together?” he asked hopefully, an awkward expression on his face.

She finally looked at him, no longer locking her eyes onto a point a mile ahead on the road.

“Yeah. You should do that,” she nodded.

“You think?” he asked, glad she didn’t think he was pathetically latching onto her.

“Yeah. I think we could do this together,” she agreed. “I’ve never actually hunted with anyone full time before.”

“Yeah. It’d be like one long quest, but with two,” Luke smiled softly.

“Yeah. We’d be twice as efficient,” she remarked. “We could kill a lot of monsters.”

“Yeah. We could,” he said appreciatively.

“Let’s just hope you can keep up,” Katherine smirked, turning back to driving.

Luke chuckled, watching her as she maneuvered the car better than most of the other people on the road. He was somewhat terrified about diving into the depths of Tartarus, but somehow he was even more afraid that this girl, the cool but fiery daughter of Nemesis, wouldn’t like him.

He knew that was just what it was like to be a sixteen year-old boy, but he also knew that he saw Katherine Montalvo as much more than a simple crush. His feelings for her definitely weren’t juvenile, and he secretly hoped she could be something more than just a teenage girlfriend. Even now, he felt that knowing Katherine was permanently altering his brain chemistry.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke spoke up.

“Shoot,” Katherine nodded. “Speaking of which. Can you lock the gun in the glove box?”

He quickly did as she ask, pulling it out from under the seat where she’d stashed it earlier, figuring this wasn’t the sort of thing you could forget to do.

“Do you know anything about how your parents… you know. Got together?” he wondered. “Like, how that relationship worked?”

She paused for a moment, considering the answer to his question.

“Well… Nemesis appears to you as someone you want to take revenge on, or so my father told me,” she explained. “When he first saw her, outside of a bar, he thought she was his ex-girlfriend, Pamela.”

“He told you that part?” Luke questioned.

“Are we really still dwelling on my father’s parenting choices?” Katherine asked pointedly.

“You know what, fair enough,” he decided.

“Yeah. Anyway. Their love was… the kind of love that consumes you, you know?” she said thoughtfully. “The kind of love that makes you want to completely consume the other person. I’m not sure why, but he told me there was a lot of hate-fucking going on.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean, I can see that,” Luke remarked, still astounded at the sort of things her father had said, and did, to her as a child. “I mean, my parents weren’t like that, but their relationship definitely wasn’t healthy either.”

“No relationship between a god and a mortal is,” Katherine reasoned, which he agreed with.

“Do you believe in that?” Luke asked.

“Believe in what?”

“The kind of love that consumes you,” he said.

“I think that’s the only love I know,” Katherine contemplated. “I don’t know how to love people… I don’t know how to do it without being ready to kill for them. That’s why I don’t anymore. Not because I don’t feel anything. But because I feel too much.”

Luke nodded without a word, knowing all too well what she meant. She was hardened and rough, but in his eyes, Katherine was the purest soul he’d ever met. She was the only one he’d ever met who seemed to care like he did. She was beautiful, not like a colorful flower or a luxurious car, but like a rage so pure it made the heart beat faster and faster.

“Honestly,” he said aloud, trying to find the right words for her, “You’re the most I’ve ever wanted to feel for a person.”

He couldn’t decipher the subsequent look on her face. There was no discernible smile, but it wasn’t a scowl, or any sort of disapproval. It obviously wasn’t a look of sadness, and it wasn’t quite excitement. Her expression was cold, but her eyes were dark and burning.

The closest word to it that he could find was just passion. Not like hate, or even like love, but just passion.

“I would die for you,” she concluded, meaning what she said. “I’ve never really had a real reason to risk my life before. I’ve done it, every day, but I’ve never actually had a reason to before.”

Luke nodded, understanding what she meant. As demigods, they were both born to be heroes. But never before had Luke understood why he saved people. “I’d die for you, too,” he promised her.

“I know,” she nodded.

“I think we’re cooler than Han and Leia,” Luke spoke up, “And better than Anakin and Padme.”

“I would agree with that,” Katherine nodded humorously.

“Do you think Kronos is going to change the world?” Luke asked. “Destroy all the monuments, and bring down all the gods?”

“I hope so,” she nodded. “But I’m hoping he destroys the world.”

Luke considered the idea for a moment, realizing that if in the near future, they resurrected Kronos and ended the world, Katherine’s face would be the last thing he saw, and her voice would be the last thing he heard.

“You know, I’m glad you’ll be with me when the world ends,” she added. “I’ve been thinking I was alone in the nightmares and the voices for too long.”

“Before the world ends…” Luke thought, considering all his options as he entertained the idea humorously. “I wanna get ice cream,” he said finally.

“Ice cream?” Katherine asked, not knowing the significance.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve lived at the camp for years. I eat what they make and serve that day. We all do. Sometimes, they decide we’re having ice cream, and I have to try and really savor it because I never know when I’ll have it again. But I wanna go and get ice cream, of my own free will. Just because I want it.”

“We’re on the road,” she reminded him, smiling opportunistically. “We can have ice cream whenever we want. We can do anything whenever we want.”

“I know. I like it,” he told her.

They reached New York by the end of the next day. Katherine and Luke headed into Central Park with almost nothing, deeming it prudent to only enter Tartarus with the compass, their individual weapons, and the clothes on their back. They knew that keeping everything intact in a dark, bottomless pit was a fool’s errand.

“You ready?” Luke asked, looking to Katherine as they stood at the Door of Orpheus in south Central Park.

Katherine knew exactly where the entrance to the Underworld was, thanks to an old friend she’d made on the road somewhere. She nodded, steadying herself as she slowly opened her mouth to sing.

“I spoke into his eyes I thought you died alone A long long time ago”

Luke stood beside her, bewitched as she sang the beautiful melody, sounding divine even with just her crude vocals. They both scanned the hidden door carefully, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Luke looked back at Katherine, eager for her to continue.

“Oh no, not me I never lost control You're face to face With the man who sold the world”

Her soothing voice was a relief to him, and the low crackling and crumbling he heard as the door opened in the large tree. The two exchanged looks, glad that it had worked.

“Shall we?” Luke asked.

“We shall,” Katherine nodded, carefully stepping through as he walked through behind her.

“Those are the main gates,” Luke recognized, looking behind them as both of their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“Hades’ palace is that way,” Katherine looked ahead of them, “So we should be headed that way. Towards the River Cocytus.”

“Alright. Let’s go,” Luke said automatically.

“Wait,” Katherine stopped him, pulling on his arm.

“What?” he questioned nervously.

“The Underworld is dangerous. In a way that fucks with your head. We need to make sure we stay focused,” she reminded him. “I know you feel Kronos, because I do too, but I’m not sure that’s gonna be enough,” she said.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, pulling out the compass. “Do you wanna hold onto this?”

“No,” she shook her head firmly, pushing his hand back toward him. “You should hold onto it. The Cocytus is the river of wailing. It might affect me a lot more than you,” she warned him, even if he didn’t find that believable.

Luke would’ve guessed that Katherine’s resolve would be a hundred times stronger than his.

“I’ve heard the Underworld can seriously fuck you up. So we need to stay as close together as possible; like taking a toddler to the mall,” she stated.

“So how should we do that?” Luke asked.

“Hold my hand,” she said, dead serious.

He obliged, taking her hand in his. It was an oddly familiar feeling despite the fact that they’d never held hands before. It felt like his own hand.

“I’m serious. Don’t let go,” she urged him, squeezing his hand. “We need to anchor one another. So we don’t get lost, or hurt ourselves.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded, tightening his grip on her hand. “I got you.”

“Alright. Let’s go,” she examined the compass as he held it. “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” she sighed.

Katherine kept her sword close to her in her pocket, touching a hand to it every time she felt extra uneasy, which was almost all of the time. The trek to the entrance to Tartarus wasn’t a necessarily long one, especially when taking into consideration the size of the Underworld in its entirety. But the longer they spent there, the more miserable and hopeless they felt.

The only comfort either of them had was the feeling of the other’s hand in their own. Luke was glad Katherine had suggested holding hands to keep one another safe. He appreciated the feeling of her hand safely on the inside of his, glad he could at least make her feel safer.

As they walked a long path near the Fields of Asphodel, full of aimless, confused souls that had lived ‘ordinary’ lives of neither good nor evil, Luke did everything he could to keep their minds off of impending doom. He could hardly see Katherine at all, so hearing her was his best chance at sanity.

For once, the two of them had to do their best to refrain from discussing traumatic or otherwise upsetting topics, to avoid losing their minds in the depths of the Underworld.

“What’s your favorite color?” Luke asked her.

“Red,” she answered.

“Red like what?”

“Red like cherries,” she thought. “What’s yours?”

“Black,” he thought. “Like the sky, when it’s almost purple.”

When he said his favorite color out loud, the first thing he really thought of when trying to remember the world above was Katherine’s dark hair, the way it looked more brown in sunlight.

“What’s your favorite food?” Katherine asked, as they began a game of unlimited questions.

“Sour cream and onion chips,” he said, earning a dry laugh. “Yours?”

“Chicken fried steak,” she remembered.

“What’s your favorite movie?” he said as they walked hand in hand.

“Pretty Woman. What about you?”

“Home Alone,” Luke remembered fondly. “I always wished I had a big family. I mean. I have hundreds of half-siblings, but something more personal than that. You know?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, looking out at the deep blue river in the distance. “Growing up… I was all alone. The only company I ever really had was my father. And you know how that went. I used to wish I had a sibling, just so I could have someone to suffer with.”

“So did I,” Luke said, surprised he’d had the exact same thought in his childhood. “My mom… she was sick. In the head. When I was seven, I thought I might be going crazy too.”

Katherine looked up at him, listening earnestly as he spoke.

“I remember, eventually, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I loved her, but I couldn’t lose my mind anymore. So I left, and I never really looked back,” he admitted. “I don’t think she really even noticed. I mean. She noticed. But I think she’s still waiting for me to walk back through the door.”

“When I was twelve, I tried to tell a teacher what my father started doing to me… But I didn’t have the right words for it then, so she didn’t understand,” Katherine recalled suddenly. “She brought it up, and my stepmom, Heather, knew what I was trying to say. She told me I was too fat for my dad to want me… And for some sick reason, that made me stop eating. I don’t think about that a lot.”

There was a long pause, as each of them felt too stuck in their own memories to do anything about it.

“Leaving my mom was the hardest thing I ever did,” Luke said in a low, regretful tone. “I was really attached to her as a kid. She was my favorite person. But I think my dad was hers. I hated him for it.”

“I was really attached to my father, too. I was like his doll; he liked to choose what I liked, and what I thought, and what I wore… When I was twelve, he bought me this Chanel perfume. He said it made me smell grown-up,” Katherine said wistfully.

“I was the reason for a lot of his arguments with Heather, especially before they got married. So the summer after sixth grade, they sent me away, to my Aunt Daisy’s. I didn’t wanna go. I cried, and cried. Eventually he screamed at me. Threw things for me to pack. The perfume ended up breaking on the floor, and my room smelled like it for days… Do you smell that?”

“What?” Luke asked.

“The perfume… I smell it,” Katherine whispered. “Coco Mademoiselle.”

“I don’t smell perfume. I smell…” Luke thought for a moment, searching his mind. “Grilled cheese. Like my mom used to make. Grilled cheese, and canned tomato soup. Every Sunday. Before… a certain point.”

“The River. Cocytus,” she murmured. “It’s affecting us.”

“Just think… happy thoughts,” he suggested, not believing it as he said it. “I always wanted a puppy…”

“We had a puppy,” Katherine thought.

“What happened to it?” he wondered.

She only looked up at him, tears shining even in the darkness. Something about the way her eyes burned into his told him it didn’t die of natural causes.

“Hey, I think we need to stop,” Luke urged her, taking both of her hands in his. “Just for a second. To get it together.”

“Okay,” she whimpered, struggling hold back tears as he wrapped her in his arms, perhaps a little too tight.

“Shhh,” he whispered, not knowing what else to do to comfort the both of them, “It’s okay. I’m right here. I got you.”

“This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever felt,” Katherine mumbled.

Even the strength of Luke’s arms around her was beginning to feel distant.

“Me too. I don’t like it,” he said darkly.

As they held each other close in the darkness, he felt himself beginning to tear up, like all those nights he’d cried himself to sleep as a child. To Luke, tears and darkness were synonymous. He never dared to cry anywhere but in the dark where no one could see him, even now.

“How long until we at least get to the entrance to the pit?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Time and distance feel different… Like they feel shorter, but they also feel like they might be longer than they feel…”

“None of this makes any sense to me,” Luke breathed, finding himself unable to.

“Ditto.”

That was the last even remotely funny thing either of them could think of.

Chapter Eight

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #jake abel #pjo luke #rick riordan #riordanverse #riordan universe #adam milligan

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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 years

Text

My Immortal/ 10

Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader

Word count- 3k

Includes- protective Hwa, violence, sex, missionary, riding, love making

This is the last chapter of this Seonghwa fanfic. Hongjoong's is the next fic in this series and it should be released in September - October 2022.

Series Masterlist

Seonghwa POV

I don't know what the hell is going on or what I walked into

I was on stage, Hongjoong talking to ATINYS when I heard her yelling and a crash

It wasn't loud for human ears but all of us heard it

I slowly backed away from the stage and once I was out of sight, I ran to her immediately

Nothing could prepare me for seeing her holding the slayer against the wall by the neck, two other people sitting on the couch and one unconscious man on the floor

But I could tell, from her body language she was about to kill the slayer

She hasn't killed anyone ever and I won't let her start now

I got her to let go of the slayer's neck and she backs away

Ok good

I turn to the slayer, grab her neck and slam her against the wall

"I won't let her kill you but I have no problem killing you", I growl, "Jagi what's going on?"

"She came with her little band of friends to come kill you and me"

I narrow my eyes at the slayer and ask, "Why?"

"Because she's pissed off that I was a slayer and chose to be a vampire to be with you"

I raise my eyebrow

How is that any of her business?

"We had a whole chat about it with her throwing accusations around and not getting anything I was saying. Then she got mad, tried to hit me and well I hit her, she went flying into the table and I choked her. Then you came"

I nod, so angry

And honestly terrified that this girl came to hurt my baby

The slayer tries to hit me but I catch her hand, shoving it down

"You want another broken arm?", I snarl

She narrows her eyes but shakes her head

"Then stop moving or I will snap your neck"

She glares at me but she does stop moving

Good, she should listen and maybe I'll let her live

"What the fuck is happening?", Hongjoong yells, coming in with the guys and the girls

"Slayer tried to kill Joanne and wants to kill me", I answer, "And probably all of you too"

"Another slayer?", Hongjoong whines, "We had enough with Jo all those years ago"

"Hey!", she barks, "I never hurt any of you!"

"Anyway didn't you tell her to stay away from you like last week?", Yeosang asks

"Yeah but she didn't listen. Obviously", Joanne answers

"So what should we do?", Yunho asks

I think for a few seconds

I don't really want a body on our hands right now even though I'm enraged this girl tried to hurt my jagi

"Oohhh", I hear a moan behind me

"Giles!", a girl's voice calls

"Who is Giles?", Jongho asks

"The guy on the floor", Joanne answers, "Her watcher"

I stiffen and rage flies into me hearing the word watcher

It just reminds me of Joseph and the image of the stake in her chest flies into my head

I push the images away, focusing on the present

"Is he awake?", Joanne asks

"Uh yeah", Mingi answers

"Oh ok. I have to compel him. Don't let him kill himself"

Ok she's going to have to explain that later

"Hwa just let her go", Hongjoong says

"She tried to kill my wife. Again"

"Please! She was never even close!", Joanne calls

Still

She came here with the intention to kill my jagi

"Look, let her and them go this time. If she comes back then you can kill them all", Yunho suggests

Joanne comes back to my side , "I compelled the three of her friends to kill themselves if she tries to find any of us again"

I nod

Alright

I want to kill her and if we weren't in the middle of a concert I would

It's her lucky day

Looking at the slayer, I tell her, "If you ever come back, if you ever hurt her, I will kill every one you love and make you watch"

Her eyes widen, fear in them

Good

She should be afraid

I have no problem wiping anyone off the face of this earth for my jagi

"I will kill these three here, their whole families, your whole family, anyone you ever spoken to, looked at, I will kill them and then I will slowly kill you. Do you understand?"

She nods

"Nothing will stop me. If I don't have her, I have nothing to lose. You will die, everyone you know will die. That's not a question. So for the last time, do not ever come back. Do not try to find us. Stay away. Understand?"

I loosen my hand around he throat so she can answer

"Yes", she chokes out

"Good"

I pull my arm back, punching her in the face hard, knocking her out

"Buffy!", the older man calls

Buffy?

That's her name?

What kind of name is that?

I let go of her and she drops to the floor

"No fair Hwa! You get to hit her but I can't?", Joanne whines

I turn to her, pulling her into my arms, hugging her tightly, kissing her forehead

"I'm sorry jagi. If she comes back you can hit her", I promise

"Ok", she answers

"Let me get to her!", I hear the man yelling

I face the watcher, walking to him, San and Wooyoung blocking him from moving

They stand aside for me

"You're her watcher?", I ask, pissed off

He nods, scared

"You heard what I told her?"

"About you killing everyone she's ever known? Yes I heard that"

I narrow my eyes

This is no time for him to try to be funny

"I hate watchers", I snap, "A fucking watcher killed my wife. Tried to convince her I could compel her to love me. Tried to tell her I didn't love her when that is the complete opposite of how I felt then and now."

He stares at me, not moving and not saying any stupid quips

Good

"I'm not killing you right now so you can keep your slayer in check. You take her and keep her away from us. I can't compel her to leave us alone so you're going to have to keep tabs on her"

"You can't compel her?", he asks

Oh god this again

"What is it with you watchers and not telling your slayers they can't be compelled?", I snap

"What are you talking about?"

He really doesn't know?

"What kind of watcher are you? Slayers cannot be compelled. It's one of their abilities. That is why it's your job to keep her away from us"

"I did not....I was not told of that. Many of the vampires she fights are new world and do not have the compulsion power."

Guess the watchers council is still the shit show it was hundreds of years ago

"Well now you know. Take her and get the fuck out"

He nods, running past me to the slayer

Joanne walks over to the two on the couch and tells them they can get up and leave

They run to the watcher and slayer, helping him lift the slayer, then rush out of the room

I listen to their footsteps until I can't hear them anymore

Then I immediately go back to her

"Jagi-", I call, taking her hand, the panic still running through me

"Baby I'm ok", she says

"Are you sure? She didn't hurt you?"

She giggles, "No Hwa. I heard her and her friends from a mile away. I disarmed and compelled them in under a minute. They were never going to hurt me or you"

I nod, but inside I'm still scared

And worried

They came all the way here from Sunnydale just to kill her and me

This watcher could find a way around the compulsion and the slayer could come back

She seems to hate Joanne and me, most likely because Joanne was a slayer and I'm the vampire who turned her

"Hwa", she says softly, touching my face

I move my gaze to hers, in her eyes

"I am fine Hwa. Nothing happened and nothing will ok?"

Moving my hand to hers, I hold on to it

"Ok. But come with me? Stay near me?", I ask

"But you have to go on stage", she says

"Stay at the side of the stage where I can see you. Please"

She nods, "Ok Hwa. I will"

"Ok", I agree

"You have to get changed baby. Finish the concert"

I nod, taking her hand and leading her with me

She stays next to me while I change and the stylists fix my hair and makeup

Leading her to the stage, I lean down and press a kiss to her lips

"I love you", I tell her

"I love you", she says, smiling softly, "Now go be amazing"

I smile softly, "I will jagi"

I really don't want to go on stage and leave her here

I want to be wrapped up with her in the hotel room, holding her tightly

Instead I take a breath, push the panic down, let her hand go and walk on stage

----------------------------------------------------

"Hwa what's wrong?", she asks, sitting next to me on the bed

She takes my hand, her other running through my hair, worry on her face

"You're being very quiet. Are you mad? Did I do something wrong?"

"No jagi. Never"

I know I've been quiet since the concert ended, having her at my side every second

I'm just terrified something is going to happen to her

The slayer completely blindsided me

Just the thought of losing her....I can't....I don't even want to think about it

"Baby please. Talk to me"

I look at her, the tears in my eyes making her image blurry

"Don't cry Hwa", she whispers, wiping my eyes, "Tell me what's bothering you"

"I just....I'm scared"

"Of what baby?"

"Being without you", I answer, "I'm scared something is going to happen to you"

Her face softens, softly stroking my cheek, "Nothing is going to happen baby. Kinda a super vamp over here"

I know she is but still, she's not permanently immortal

None of us are

Nothing is truly immortal

"I know baby but...it's just....now I get why you were so upset when she attacked me. Why you were worried and scared. I'm scared she going to come back"

"She's not baby", she shakes her head, "I compelled her friends to kill themselves if she even mentions trying to find us"

I know but I tell her my fears anyway

"What if the watcher finds a way around the compulsion? Or tries to break it?"

"Hwa" she says softly, "You know that isn't possible. Only I can undo the compulsion. It won't stop even if I die"

I know but right now my mind is coming up with anything to worry about

Today just really scared me

No one has ever actively come after her or me

This time nothing happened but next time we might not be so lucky

And the thought of being without her for even a nanosecond....no

I can't

She hugs me tightly, rubbing my back

"Don't worry baby, nothing will happen to us. I'll always protect you and I know you'll always protect me"

"Always", I whisper wrapping my arms around her and holding her tightly

"Nothing happened today baby ok, so please don't worry. I'm here. You're here. We're ok"

I nod

She's right

We're both fine, we're both here together

This has shaken me and I need to be more alert from now on

She's my jagi and I will keep her safe

She pulls back, looking in my eyes, her hand on my cheek, "Ok baby?"

"Yeah", I answer softly

"I love you Seonghwa"

"I love you Joanne. Always"

She smiles softly, then leans forward, her lips against mine

I kiss her back hard, passionately, so grateful that she's here and I can kiss her

Her hand move into my hair, softly running through the strands and sending shivers down my spine

Her other hand moves under my shirt, touching my back

I moan at her touch, loving how her small hands feel on me

Over five hundred years together and her touch is still the best thing I've ever felt and still effects my body like nothing else

Moving my hands to her waist, I slide them up, pushing her shirt up and feeling her soft smooth skin

She pulls away so I can get her shirt and bra off, then she takes me shirt off

I grab her, turning her and laying her on the bed, hovering over her

Moving my head down, I kiss her, her arms around me, both of her hands on my back this time

She slowly moves her hands down, her fingers lighting up every nerve in my body

When she gets to my pants, she pushes them and my boxers down

I get out of them quickly then relieve her of her pants and panties

Her legs open for me, her hands on my hips, pulling me to her

Sheathing my length inside her, she stretches around me, moaning in pleasure

Wrapping my arm around her, I lift her slightly, her skin against mine

Slowly I pull back, then enter her again slowly

Keeping up the momentum, I make love to her, sliding in and out of her, feeling her clench me hard as my head brushes against her spot every stroke

"Seonghwa", she moans, her fingers gripping my back hard, "Baby, oh god, baby. Don't stop"

I'm not stopping

It feels too good, she feels amazing

Leaning down, I press my lips against her neck, her moans getting louder

I know the spots she loves the best and I keep kissing her, running my tongue on her skin, sucking on her neck as I move my hand around her breast, squeezing softly

"Seonghwa, oh god, Hwa"

Moving into her, I make sure I'm rubbing her clit at the same time, all of me just wanting to pleasure her

Her pussy spasms around me, drenching me in her wetness

She's close and I move a little faster, into her spot

Her body arches as she yells my name, her pussy, squeezing my length as she cums on me

"Seonghwa!"

I breathe hard, the pleasure from her orgasm mind blowing

Always fucking amazing

I keep moving, making her orgasm last longer

Making her feel better

"Oh Hwa", she moans, shaking under me as the last of her orgasm dissipates

Her arms hug me to her as she rolls us over

I'm still inside her as she sits up

Her body moves immediately, rocking and grinding on my dick, my head against her spot, her pussy squeezing around my length over and over

"Fuck jagi", I whisper, holding her hips hard, my eyes on her body, feeling the pleasure she's giving me

My beautiful jagi

I can stare at her for hours and not get tired

Her movements change to small bounces, up and down my cock, leaving me soaked with every move

She leans back, her hand on my leg, riding my cock perfectly

"Seonghwa", she moans, moving a little faster

"Baby fuck. You feel so good", I praise her, "My perfect baby"

I reach for her hand, taking it and lacing our fingers together

She holds on tightly, making me smile

I move my hand to her, my thumb against her clit, rubbing softly

She whimpers loudly, biting her lip and looking so fucking sexy

"Cum on me jagi. Please", I beg, wanting to feel that pleasure so much

She moves a few more times, rubbing her spot on my head

Her body trembles as she moans and I watch her cum

Her chest heaving as she calls my name, the immense pleasure her pussy is giving me is all pushing me over the edge

Ecstasy takes over my body and she keeps riding me as I cum inside her, prolonging my orgasm

"Joanne, baby girl. Fuck", I moan, gripping her hips hard, feeling her perfect pussy suck and milk my cum into her, "Don't stop baby, fuck keep going. It feels so good"

I feel her throb around me faster, her hand gripping my leg hard

When the pleasure ebbs away, I sink into the bed trying to catch my breath

She moves off me, laying next to me and I turn to my side to face her

She smiles at me and I can't help smile back

Running my fingers through her hair, I tell her, "I love you. I can't live without you jagi"

She moves closer to him, her arm around my body, "You don't have to baby. It's you and me. Together. Literally forever"

A smile bursts on my face, "Yeah jagi. Me and you. Forever"

"Always Hwa. We'll always be together. We will get through anything and everything together. I'll follow you anywhere and I'll be by your side forever"

I nod, "Me too baby. I'll always be right next to you and I'll always protect you. Always."

"I love you so much Hwa"

"I love you so much Jo. More than anything in the world"

I know she knows this

I tell her everyday of our lives

I will always tell her and make sure she feels my love every day

She presses her lips to mine, kissing me deeply

I sigh into the kiss, feeling her love for me

It awes me every time

She gave up everything for me and she never made me feel bad about anything

She doesn't regret anything and neither do I

She really is my everything, my life and I wouldn't change that for anything

"Sleep time", she says when the kiss ends, cuddling into me and laying in my arms

"Night jagi", I tell her, kissing the top of her head

"Night baby", she says sleepily

Watching her as she falls asleep, I thank whoever is out there that I met her and that she willingly wants to be with me forever

I always knew from the second I met her that she's my one and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and to love her every moment of everyday

She's right, it's me and her forever

Me and my jagi

@mingtina

@umbralhelwolf

@jo-hwaberry

@fairygirl18

#ksmutclub #my immortal #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa fic #park seonghwa fanfic #park seonghwa smut #ateez seonghwa fanfic #ateez seonghwa smut #vampire seonghwa #ateez fanfiction #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

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itty-bitty-demon · 2 months

Text

🍁 OOC lore dump 🍁

I've got some Sylvia lore for y'all and I need ya to be ready for it cuz it's a LOT

So I've been thinking about all this (my thoughts are very organized rn I promise) and I've got lots of lil tidbits!!

So here's a bit about the two behind it all (mainly one of the sinners)

As we all know, Sylvia was created, not born. She also never died.

She was just.. there lmfao

The two sinners that created her are named Derek and Roman (I plan on drawing em soon)

Derek is a bit more experienced with voodoo than Roman so he was the one who messed up and made Sylvia alive.

Roman is kind of the mastermind behind it all though.

Roman has had beef with Alastor in the past. He wants to be an overlord and he believes taking down Alastor and gaining power in that way is the only way to do it.

Alastor could care less because Roman isn't anywhere near as powerful as he is but I digress.

Roman is also kinda in kahoots with Vox but not entirely.

Roman and Derek met at a bar one night. Derek is a bit more powerful than Roman in a dark magic sense, but not as experienced because he doesn't really interact with people.

Though he and Roman kinda hit it off, and Roman kinda took Derek in as his right hand man.

The only reason though is because Roman knew Derek had abilities that he could use to his advantage.

So imagine how pissed Roman was after Sylvia was brought to life.

Roman is also the cause of most of the physical and verbal abuse Sylvia endured for the short amount of time she was there.

Now I'm gonna dump about Sylvia because ye!

Sylvia is a peaceful little demon.

The idea of hurting or killing people does not and never will sit right with her.

She's spoken out about this too. It's not something she feels okay with.

She respects Charlie a lot because they kind of share this belief.

Though Sylvia has hurt people before, albeit on accident.

Being so young, she doesn't know how to control a lot of her powers.

She's only able to control radio frequencies like Alastor, and she's able to bring dolls to life.

Which I will get to don't worry. I'll get to all her powers in a bit.

When Sylvia was created, she didn't know what was going on at all.

She was thrown around and yelled at and threatened. She was terrified.

She'd just gained consciousness and she was being treated like this.

Sylvia thinks that this is a normal thing. It's never once been explained to her that most people in Hell aren't created in such a way. She's never been told what she went through is not normal, nor is it okay.

Sylvia goes through life thus far thinking this is normal and everyone just eventually grows up and accepts it. Some even embrace it.

Which is also why she hates the idea of other's being hurt or killed.

She will always associate hurting/killing with her own traumatic experience because no one's told her it's incorrect thus far.

Granted, she's never brought these feelings up, so no one's had a reason to tell her.

Its a small way her and Alastor differ though.

While Alastor is an absolute psychopath (/affectionate haha) and enjoys seeing people suffer, Sylvia is a pacifist and a genuine sweetheart who hates it when people so much as cry because she wants to make sure everyone is okay.

Which is kinda not a good trait in Hell.

Sinners hurt. Sinners kill. Sinners are fucking monsters and they're ruthless and they crave violence like all the time because it's Hell and they already lost everything. They have nothing else to lose, so why not embrace it?

There's quite literally nothing Sylvia can do about it, and her having such an empathetic trait in this place is extremely dangerous.

Alastor knows this as well.

HEHE POWERS AND ANGST TIME! Here's what we know so far (aka what I've all come up with so far)

I'm going to split this up into a few sections, so this first is gonna talk about her radio powers and her doll powers.

Like all demons, Sylvia has a demonic form. I'll get to it though.

Sylvia is also, again, able to control radio frequencies. She can emit music and static. The static often comes out when she's under a lot of stress, or anger, or pain - basically negative emotions are easily spotted with her because her static gives it away.

The level of emotion determines the volume and intensity of the static noises.

Also! Memories can be heard with her! She practically broadcasts them. Whether she's daydreaming or reminiscing or having flashbacks, if you're close enough you can actually hear it!

Though with memories and flashbacks, the quality of it depends on how well she remembers it.

If she remembers a stroll in Hell with her father a few weeks ago, the ambiance of the street and the conversation they had can be heard quite well!

Though if it's something like when she was first created, then not so much.

Sylvia doesn't really completely remember all of what happened. So when she flashes back to it, the yelling and smashing of objects and all that is quite distorted and garbled.

Think of a radio that can't quite reach a certain frequency. You can kinda hear the music, but it sounds far away and distorted and almost unrecognizable.

Now just think of that, but with yells. Terrifying, genuine rage filled yells.

That's slightly unsettling, isn't it?

Now!! She has good control over one of her powers.

Which happens to be bringing dolls to life, though not in a way she was.

Her dolls stay dolls. Her dolls are unable to talk, but they can make these cute little chirping sounds.

Think of the sound Niffty made when she was first summoned, and that's what Sylvia's dolls sound like.

No one can understand what the dolls are saying with their chirps except Sylvia. And the dolls know this. So with others, they use body language to try and communicate.

Which is quite silly to think about. Tiny little dollies playing charades with someone.

Her dolls also kinda work like voodoo, but on her.

She feels what they do, both physically and mentally.

There are three main dolls that Sylvia use. Evangeline, Marianne and Argos.

All the dolls use it/its pronouns even though they look like and have names that correspond to a certain gender.

Sylvia actually let the dolls decide their names and pronouns.

After all, she decided her own! And that felt kind of nice!

Evangeline was Sylvia's first. First doll she got, first doll that came to life, all that. So Sylvia has a stronger bond with it!

Evangeline is the only one Sylvia can actually "tune" her senses into.

She often sends Evangeline to eavesdrop or spy on others, and when she does, she kinda tunes out of her own mind and into Evangeline's.

Sylvia gains the ability to see and hear EVERYTHING Evangeline does.

Marianne is one of her more cautious dolls. It takes after Sylvia's caring personality, so Sylvia often sends it to check on others and make sure their doing okay.

If someone is going on a walk, Marianne is often perched on their head or resting in their bag.

It gives both Marianne and Sylvia a sense of security. A sense of knowing what's going on.

But if something goes wrong and Marianne feels it, Sylvia does too. The bad part is she doesn't get to see ot hear what's happening.

If Marianne is feeling anxious, Sylvia knows something is wrong and feels almost helpless because she can't do anything at all.

Argos is one of Sylvia's newer dolls, and Sylvia protects it with her life.

Mainly because Argos has only one eye, which makes it harder for the lil cutie to see.

The amount of times it's bumped into walls is concerning.

Argos, though, is extremely smart.

It makes sure to let any of the grown ups know if something happens.

Sylvia mainly sends it to make sure Atlas (@silly-goat-demon) is alright, since he tends to overwork himself.

This was mainly a thing Sylvia wanted to do for her dad.

All three of those dolls represent parts of Sylvia's personality.

Evangeline is Sylvia's inquisitive and curious nature.

Marianne is Sylvia's caring and cautiousness.

Argos is Sylvia's cleverness and more mature nature, even though it's the more recent of the three dolls to come into Sylvia's possession.

Now we get to talk about her demonic form and how it ties in with Alastor, Roman and Derek (because it will tie in)

So when Sylvia experiences any sort of trigger, her fight or flight kicks in big time.

This causes something in her to shift and she turns into a more demonic version of herself.

The demonic version is more impulsive and reckless. She's more aggressive, but it's out of fear.

She's essentially like a scared dog that only bites and attacks because it feels threatened or in danger.

Often times the triggers are any sort of loud noises, or bad nightmares.

She's transformed into this demonic form in public before, and Roman has seen it.

Roman knows she has the ability to hurt if he's able to get a hold of her and use her.

He wants to be able to make her demonic form come out, and use that against Alastor. If he manages to yoink her away from Alastor and purposefully trigger her, he'd be able to cause Alastor pain.

Sylvia is no where near as strong as any demon in Hell, though she can hold her own.

Roman is an asshole. He doesn't care if she's a literal child. He just wants that power Alastor has. If he gets Sylvia, he not only gets to hurt Alastor physically, but also emotionally.

One is more impulsive and reckless when they let their emotions show. Alastor and Sylvia both know this better than anyone, so if and when his daughter gets taken, Roman knows for a fact it'll be a bit easier to get to Alastor.

So yeah that presents a new challenge in this silly little timeline!

Andddd that's it! I plan on using this account more because Sylvia is one of my more unique OCs and I think she's got more to her than I let on. And I know I said I'd reveal this all through asks but I am impatient! I'm also on new ADHD meds today and my thoughts are very organized right now (/gen) so I wanted to get all of this down before I forgot.

That being said this will be linked in the pinned post for anyone who wants to refer to it when asking questions or potentially roleplaying with Sylvia! I hope yall find this useful or interesting!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #ooc

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melancholiania · 2 years

Text

Desolate [Part 3]

[Yandere!Ikaris/GN!Reader]

chapters: part one part two part four

Summary: You try to get used to Ikaris’ presence in your life.

[Warning for spoilers. Set after Eternals (2021), although quite a bit of canon is used loosely.]

Warnings: nudity, acts of violence, seizure(?), auditory hallucinations, cops

Do NOT interact if you are a minor.

edited. replaced picture.

Of course the cops would arrive to your house with the way you handled that disastrous emergency call, you summised to yourself, terrified. You immediately slammed the door shut on the officers and put your back against the door to reinforce it, quickly feeling the heavy knocks on the door getting more aggressive by the second. You turned around in panic, trying to think of some answer to bullshit to the police behind the door.

There was no way in fuck that you would be able to explain the busted car in your pathway, the horrendous emergency call, the alleyway, and the fact that you had a blue-clad superhuman who looked completely out of place in your small town.

Speaking of Ikaris, he still stood where he was and looked at you, absolutely dumbfounded. You quickly gestured to him to hide, hands wild as you pressed your back on the door, the heavy slams against the door reminding you that you both didn’t have much time to look less suspicious than you currently were. Thankfully, Ikaris had taken the panicked hints you were giving out and quickly raced to the back door next to the kitchen, behind the flight of stairs.

You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your face to relax yourself and smoothing your clothes as you opened the door once more to a very annoyed group of policemen, still waiting at your door.

“I am so sorry about that. Would you all like to come in? I can put on a kettle for tea...”

“Thanks for visiting officers! Appreciate the concern!”

Is what you chirp with a fake sweetness as the tea you’ve made sits cold and untouched on the kitchen counter while the policemen leave your house around an hour later. You quickly closed the door on them witha loud slam and cartoonishly slid down the door, screaming into your hands. You never really were overly fond of the authorities, and small town ones were not exempt from your general annoyance.

After a few bits of small talk and beating around the bush, they had started interrogating you while you had begun pulling out the teabags and turning on the electric kettle. They were mostly curious about the suspicious emergency call and the suspicious man who was heard choking you out. You knew that generally telling the police the truth would be helpful, but you were, frankly, absolutely done at 7:30 in the morning and just wanted to be left alone and unbothered. You had answered them with a few placid answers, nothing too noteworthy to arouse suspicion but not empty enough for them to be frustrated with you.

“I was sleep-deprived and probably hit a deer or something...I feel like I probably was trying to process everything that happened? I don’t know...”

“Oh, that was just a weirdo who wanted my cash. You know, with me being an out-of-towner, even though I’ve lived here for most of my life, hah...”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine....I don’t have any injuries besides a sore neck. I’ve already been to the doctor’s and...”

“Blood in the alleyway? Huh...I mean, I don’t have any open wounds...must be unrelated...”

You hoped those would keep them at bay. You did not want to talk to any of them any further.

Picking yourself out of the floor after having a much-too-long screaming session, you picked up the cold cups of tea and dumped them gently into the sink, too tired to bother washing them right at this very moment, despite hating dirty dishes in the sink. As you began walking towards the sooty couch in your living room, your thoughts suddenly shifted to the missing man in blue armour, who you were talking to just before the police had arrived.

“Wait, where was Ik—!?”

The back door slammed open as Ikaris strode into the living room right up to you, looking rather haggard, though you figured that he held up better than most, considering the fact that he literally fell out of the sky and busted your car. He seemed much more fatigued, yet his eyes burned like stars as he stared at you, utterly entranced as his face pulsated with gold wires of energy.

“Are they gone?” He asked, seemingly concerned for you. You shrugged, not particularly pleased that they were here in the first place despite them leaving rather quickly.

You quickly shifted your focus to eye him up and down, quickly realising that, in the last few hours of absolute chaos, you hadn’t realised that he looked absolutely fucking filthy. Soot caked his barely-held-together armour, and it seemed to be in even worse condition than it was an hour ago, cracks permeating the sooty plates of blue, along with a crackle of what seemed to be strange blackish charcoal here and there.

His face and hair also looked absolutely dirty, soot splattered along his face, along with the remnants of dried blood he had thrown up hours earlier. When his mouth opened to speak, you swore you could see reddish-gold stain his perfectly shaped teeth.

"I think my appearance disturbs you." It absolutely did. He looked horrifying.

“Well, yeah, obviously! You’re absolutely caked in dirt and what–why the fuck is your mouth still bleeding!?” You almost yelled, absolutely disturbed by his dirty appearance. The gold shimmering on his face stopped once again as he froze, the colour draining from his face as he stood in silence, unnerving you slightly.

You really needed him to freshen up as soon as possible, you thought to yourself, trying to dust some of the dirt off his chest plate, not noticing Ikaris faltering at your touch.

“Would you mind taking a bath or something? I can get fresh clothes for you. I assume you don’t have anything on you, right...?” You then trailed off, slightly annoyed at the fact that he was tracking dirt into the somewhat clean house.

"...Sure," he said, strangely stuck on the touch of your hand.

He wasn't one for many words, you thought to yourself as you dropped your now sooty hand back to your side, awkwardly standing in front of him.

“I really appreciate it. Now go, oh my god. I do not want to see your nasty ass until after you are squeaky clean,” you say as he’s already off to clean himself. He’s also on the wrong floor.

"Bathroom's on the second floor to the right, and it's UPSTAIRS! UPSTAIRS!

Ikaris sat naked on the edge of the bathtub, turning his head to look at the floor-length mirror standing at the edge of the pristine bathtub, his damaged and dirty armour having been immediately willed out of existence with a golden flourish as soon he had entered the bathroom and locked the door. All that was left were the remnants of dried blood scattered around his mouth, throat, and across his face, along with dirt caking his sallow skin.

He eyed the mirror with a hollow glare, eyes focused on the bruises that littered his bulky form. (Despite being an Eternal, those cursed blooms of blue and purple could still spread, although they thankfully didn’t stay for long.) The bath tap was running, being paid no attention as he sat still, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. His entire being felt like a shattered mirror of broken directives and base instincts that couldn’t seem to connect no matter how desperately he longed for it to, while every emotion he felt was wrong in every sort of way.

Yet, the overwhelming emotion he felt devour his entire mind was fear. Fear of what Arishem would do.

Tiamut was dead, that was for sure. He had seen the gargantuan Celestial’s eyes snuff out like a dampened sun on an overcast day, transmuted into crackled chunks of marble, a harrowing signal into the universe announcing that this world was to be disposed of. And worst of all, he had failed to stop the other Eternals from subjecting them to an inevitable fate, for Earth would be forsaken anyway, either by Tiamut rising or Arishem arriving to judge this cursed planet for its serious transgression.

Voices once again laugh at Ikaris, mocking him for even trying to stop the other Eternals from killing Tiamut. He growls to himself, trying to block them out and why are they so loUD WHY STOP LAUGHING STOP PLEASE STO—

“Hey, Ikaris, you alright in there? You were screaming, like, really loudly, and I could hear you from downstairs, you okay?”

Your lilting voice, muffled through the bathroom door, cuts through the cacophony of laughs and mocking like a knife through butter, shaking Ikaris out of what seemed to be an absolutely deafening screaming session. Quickly rubbing his face to regain his bearings, he stands up from the bathtub he was sitting on with a wobble, the water almost filled up to the edge, steam filling the room rapidly. He walks over to the door, answering with an “Aye, I’m alright. Just...going through something.”

He hears you sigh. “Alright, but if anything’s wrong, just let me know,” you say, voice slowly fading away as you walk away from the door.

Ikaris tries to ignore the strange longing stop thinking like this you don’t love them you should love them what is wrong with you you stop thinking about them like this stop stop stop you love them? do you? DO YOU? he has for your voice as he returns to the tub, turning the squeaky tap off. He quickly sinks into the scalding hot water, completely submerging himself as he stops breathing, wishing that he could actually drown or burn like a normal human being would.

The blistering heat of the bathwater is a peculiar yet welcome comfort, and Ikaris sinks once more into the restless black abyss of sleep with an aching heart that strangely hurts for you, the last thought on his mind being your warped voice joining in the twisted choir of his shame, laughing at him for his pathetic existence.

Ikaris quickly became a welcome presence in the two weeks you’ve stayed in your hometown so far, settling in pretty quickly despite the unusual circumstances of his arrival. (Your gut instinct yells for you to think of why you decided to bring a superhuman —if he was even human— stranger into your life, especially one you had never heard of, unlike the much-too-famous Avengers. You push it away.)

Throughout the past week or so, he had been helping you with fixing the house whenever you wanted him to, especially with some of the more difficult parts while you were freshening up the more antiquated aspects of your late parent’s house. This had been a pretty difficult process for you, as you loved them with your entire being, but they were...in a better place, and you had to try to move on without them in your life. Freshening up the house was a way for you to at least try to do so.

(Your gut screams at you once more to not let Ikaris be near you or get anywhere close in your personal life, family and all. Irritated, you shove it into inexistence.)

Meanwhile, a concerning amount of Deviants had been popping up around the world once more, some of them appearing near your hometown, which you were oblivious too.

Ikaris, at the vast pine forest behind the town, had noticed a small pack of winged, hound-like Deviants wandering around one day while he had been discreetly flying around, gathering some wood for your fireplace at home. Of course, he couldn't believe it at first, thinking them to be nothing more than his own delusions returning to haunt him.

He was instantly proven wrong when a particularly scrappy Deviant decided to launch itself at Ikaris, wings unfurling as it tackled him, making him drop most of the kindling as it attempted to drag him down to the leafy ground. It was unsuccessful, which was putting it kindly, as Ikaris immediately grabbed the Deviant off him and brutally swung it to the ground with a growl, the gross squelch of black blood and gore splattering the forest floor, instantly killing it.

Ikaris heaved, breaths getting more ragged and frenzied by the second as he eyed the dropped kindling he had been collecting for you, a complete mess on the leafy ground. Usually, something like this shouldn't have induced such a livid reaction, but it did, and he could only see red.

With white-hot, searing wrath THEY RUINED YOUR CHANCE WITH THEM THEY RUINED IT KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL KILL THEM THEM flowing through his blood, the remaining kindling in his hand was brutally crushed into splinters and chips in a fit of rage. At the same time, golden beams were immediately shot by a royally pissed-off Ikaris at the rest of the Deviants as they also launched themselves at him. His core directives were to correct excess deviation, after all. (Ajak’s disembodied voice would cruelly remind him that he was the one who set them free from the ice to kill her, and left Gilgamesh dead in their wake. Ikaris snarls, pushing the voice to the back of his mind as he blasted at another Deviant.)

His shattered, broken beyond repair core directives instructed him to kill any hostile Deviant. And that he did.

What those directives didn’t say though, was to completely brutalize them. And yet, Ikaris was using his brute strength to drag their deaths out, ripping sinew and muscles apart with complete ease, bursts of oily blood showering the Eternal. One particularly unfortunate deviant was cleanly ripped in half from head to toe, screaming in agony as it reached a brutal end in the hands of an angered Eternal.

As he finally descended onto the leafy ground after the fight, heaving breaths were finally starting to slow down. Ikaris felt much less wound up and aggravated, as if he was in a comfortable trance. Deviant blood was generously splattered across his face and clothes as he looked around, sighing quietly at the absolute massacre he caused, corpses of the Deviants quickly disintegrating away, leaving only oily black blood and some gore behind. The sight was strangely cathartic, he thought, quietly soaking in his surroundings.

His foot gently nudged the pile of kindling that had been dropped and it collapsed with a few clunks, snapping him out of his daze, realizing the gravity of the situation.

In all his rage about the kindling and you, He had forgotten about your reaction. He knew you would panic and start asking questions, as any average person would if you saw him covered in dark blood, no matter his explanation. He hadn’t even told you he was a fucking Eternal yet. He had never planned to, either, having not expected to live this long. He had to get rid of the blood before you noticed.

Swiftly grabbing the kindling, and swaddling it in his arms, he launched himself towards your house, flying as fast as could before you arrived home, a strange longing in his heart and soul lingering.

(He wonders why you, a mortal’s opinions mattered so much to him. He never felt this attached to anyone, not even Sersi.)

As the sky darkens with grey clouds, Ikaris sneaks into the house through the back door with the kindling, not noticing you watching the television, the channel turned to the afternoon news. As he quietly drops off the kindling on the kitchen counter, his quiet steps going upstairs are interrupted by a squeaaaak of the stairs’ wooden planks. He wonders, annoyed, why he didn’t think to fly up the steps as he hears your voice.

“Ik? Is that you?” You yell out from the living room. You don’t notice him, as the stairs are blocked by the living room wall, which he is silently grateful for.

“Aye, it’s me. I’m just going to take a bath!” He yells out. He prays that you don’t come up the stairs.

“Wait, Ik, don’t start yet! The bathtub’s clogged! I just— gimme a sec! I’ll come up and fix it for you!”

Ikaris blanches at the thought of you seeing him covered in blood, and he quickly tries to fly up the steps and reach the bathroom. He reaches the bathroom door and tries to twist the knob, only to find out that it’s locked. Great, he mentally screams, panicking.

“Ik, you should have seen the news today, like, there’s a huge-ass statue in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and no one knows what caused it, it’s like a total—HOLY FUCK WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!?” You immediately yell, staring right at a blood-covered Ikaris, who is desperately trying to open the door without brutalising it into shards of wood and metal. He looks at you, white-faced and clammy, standing straight up as he walks towards you.

“What did you say?”

“I...Ik, what happened to you?” You’re both terrified and concerned.

“It’s, it’s nothing. What’s this about a statue in the middle of the ocean!? I need to know,” he begs, holding your hands in his bloody ones. His eyes seem glassy with tears, and you feel a primordial fear pool in your gut.

“I...”

You hear the loudest BOOM in your life as you instinctively launch yourself away from any close windows, pulling your hands away from Ikaris, who remains still. You hear a booming voice from the skies above, and you swear it’s a god or the end of the world, and honestly, both were kind of inevitable with how the world was going since the Avengers and the Blip. You look up from the floor you were laying down on and see Ikaris’ face swirl glowing gold, his body stiff and unyielding.

“You have chosen to sacrifice a Celestial for the people of this planet.”

The largest voice you’ve ever heard shakes your entire house, vibrations rocking your body and launching you off the floor. The golden threads swirling across Ikaris’ body glow manically, unstable light pulsing across his skin.

Arishem is here, he realises, the golden swirling quickly starting to hurt.

“I will spare them, but your memories will show if they are worthy to live.”

Ikaris starts to convulse, collapsing to the ground as the house vibrates continuously. You grab onto his convulsing form, looking at his agonised face, as he looks at you for any kind of mercy. You’re panicking as you try to lay him on his side and prevent him from falling down the stairs, while the voice continues to boom across the entire Earth, you realise in a panic.

“And I will return for judgment.”

Ikaris is absolutely screaming in pain at this point and the golden swirls look more like cracks across his body, glowing so brightly you can barely look at his strained form, having to close your eyes, still trying to keep him from falling down the stairs as the light and vibrating reaches its fever pitch.

And suddenly, everything stops. The earthquake, Ikaris convulsing, the voice, the golden light. Everything.

You’re heaving with exhaustion, opening your eyes to see Ikaris passed out, eyes half-lidded and slowly closing.

Fuck. Not again.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Sporadic updates.

Reblogs appreciated.

#yandere marvel #yandere eternals #eternals x reader #ikaris x reader #yandere ikaris #yandere mcu #eternals x y/n #yandere x gn reader

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softranswolves · 1 year

Note

Derek x Theo x Jordan

Ship It

What made you ship it?

Ohhhh boy(s). I'm a slut for soft x rough ships in general, as well as redemption as relationship builder, so already I've shipped Derek x Theo and Derek x Jordan. Putting them all together is *chef's kiss*.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Derek and Theo both made life-changing mistakes in their youth, and they carried the guilt until it became a part of who they were, however consciously or subconsciously. Derek became closed off, angry, scared. He lost his family and couldn't bear to tell Laura or Peter (from what we are shown, at least). Theo lost his sister, and honestly his family too, even if that wasn't explained. His parents are terrified of him in 5x02, making it clear that he has done something to them in the past, whether himself or allowing the dread doctors to. Already I love Derek x Theo because of this - by the time we meet Theo, we've seen Derek go through so much character growth and learning. Seeing that interact with the chaos of Theo, seeing himself in the kid, would be fascinating, and Derek who we know by the time of season 5 would likely have sympathy and want to help Theo because he sees himself there. He may not be able to relate to taking his sister's heart, but he can fathom being responsible for a sibling's death.

Enter Jordan. We get Jordan somewhat in the middle of Derek's evolution, with him first really popping onto the radar in s3, which is also the time after Derek has not only once again lost part of his family (Erica and Boyd, almost losing Cora too) but also is sitting with making another big mistake in trust (Jennifer). He still can't fathom the damage possible when it becomes clear Stiles is the Nogitsune. He's afraid of that potential for someone to make a slip in judgment or misplace their trust and make a life altering mistake. Jordan isn't. Jordan rolls with the punches and actively seeks more information, wants to learn about himself and the supernatural. He's one of the first to just shrug when faced with it via Lydia, who he just assumes is a psychic and doesn't question it.

Come seasons 5 and 6, Derek is an evolved wolf - literally can change his shape to that of a wolf, and grew enough to be able to push past some of his trauma to embody the inherited full shift (we see so few full shift werecreatures and two already have Hale blood so inheritance rather than luck of the draw is the conclusion I take). Theo begins as a masquerade, someone we do not know once we see the end of 5x02 and understand everything he has told us, and the pack, is a lie. He doesn't even know himself because he has put on the mask too tight, repressing everything else except ambition and what a group of pseudoscientists told a literal child. Of course he believed them, just like Derek believed Kate and then Jennifer. Throughout season 5 we think we know Theo, but then Kira sends him to Hell (or teen wolf's equivalent) and he later gets a speedrun version of therapy via his sister repeatedly confronting him with what he's done. His greatest trauma face to face. Just like Kate in season 1 constantly taunting Derek (just with less heart-ripping-out. At least literally/physically.) This speedrun for Theo continues once he's resurrected and sees the fallout of what he did, as he is forced to interact with the pack once more, this time without his mask or the dread doctors shielding him.

Finally (sorry for the ramble lol) we have Jordan. Jordan, who is at war with his own supernatural side, the Hellhound that likes to think of its host as just being gone. The man who wasn't born or bitten but was saved and lives in coexistence with violence and death. But Jordan himself is softer, has love and care and patience. Patience that Theo and Derek haven't really had, at least not as unconditionally as Jordan provides. He doesn't take their bullshit, ever a realist, but he also doesn't hold the weight of what they've done over their heads. He understands. He sees them as they are and takes what they give him and he knows when they are being genuine. He shows them a better example than what they had forced themselves to be after their decisions cost people their lives.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

After an unintentionally long explanation on shipping, I don't think so lol

#derekjordantheo #i did not expect my response but i just kept typing #answered #thank you for sending!!! sorry again about not shutting up

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orionares · 2 years

Text

Ambulance Ride, Part 3

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

----------------

Date of Incident: 6/18/1990

Arresting Officer: Sergeant II Katrina Melendez, Echo Park , Badge number #3927

Description of Incident

-Officers were dispatched to a home at 9:17p.m after a phone call was received from a child (11 years), claiming to shoot father in self-defense of mother. Upon arrival, myself and Officer Chaplin found the child on the curb, crying and covered with blood. Weapon was recovered on the kitchen table next to Brandel, who was found bleeding from a gunshot wound to the upper right shoulder.

—------

Deeks is trembling when Callen finishes reading the first paragraph of the police report.

He had prepared himself mentally for the language of the report as he's produced a hundred or so of his own domestic violence police reports; however, hearing the language applied to him?

Knowing that 'the child on the curb, crying and covered with blood' is him? Damn near suffocating.

"I called 911," Deeks croaks. He's partly confirming the detail, partly searching his memories of holding the orange cord phone in his small hands and dialing 911.

Nothing comes.

"Yes," Callen confirms softly. The tone in the lead agent's voice is gentle, almost like a big brother taking care of a younger brother. "You were on the line for two minutes or so before-"

"-Leaving the gun on the table and leaving my mom alone," Deeks murmurs. He expects the same argument he's heard from Kensi, the psychologist and his mother.

You were just a kid.

Callen instead pushes past the comment and continues to read the next paragraph of the report:

-The child was evaluated by Fire & Rescue Paramedic Tomas Monroe before-

“Tomas?” Deeks interrupts. His eyes flicker left and right as he searches through the recovered memories of being in the ambulance. The man he remembers sitting across from him and attending to his mother is burly and squared jaw with a mustache that reminds him of Burt Reynolds.

“Deeks?”

The Investigator holds up a finger and tries to put together his jumbled thoughts. “ I think I remember…Tomas…” he explains slowly, “...in the ambulance. He was nice, I think.”

Callen nods slowly and pulls his cellphone out of his back pocket. “I can have Fatima look up both where Melendez and Monroe are if you want. There’s no pressure to do so.”

“I- I don’t-” Deeks shrugs and runs a hand over his face. “Keep going with the case report.”

Callen opens the file and hands a photo that had been clipped to the second page. The photo is a five inch by seven inch photo, weathered from being 32 years old. Deeks feels his heart flutter at the recognition of his own blue eyes, his grey Mickey Mouse tee shirt spattered with blood and old denim shorts that had been donated from a neighbor.

“I look terrified,” Deeks mutters. He’s seen the same look in every child he’s rescued, both in NCIS and LAPD. He runs a thumb over the edge of the photo and shakes his head, “I was by myself?”

Callen flips a page and reads the third paragraph of the report. “The paramedic rode with you to the hospital and then Melendez took over during getting your statement and waiting for a foster care placement,” he summarizes.

The Investigator’s afraid to hear the answer to his next question. “How bad of a shape was my mom?”

Callen turns two pages of the file and shakes his head. "No. I'm not going to tell you the details so you can beat yourself up."

He's beyond that- Deeks is miles beyond beating himself up. He's drowning in self-hatred, guilt, confusion and so many other emotions that he can’t even name. He’s analyzing, punishing himself for not coming to Ray sooner for a gun, not calling the police daily or even trying to convince her to run away like he’d dream many times during their arguments. He doesn’t realize that tears are forming in his eyes until Callen squeezes his shoulder.

“Deeks, it’s ok,” Callen states, “You are going to be ok, whatever that guilty conscience is telling you. Your mother is happy, healthy and safe from Brandel and you- “ he nudges Deeks with a shoulder, “-are a survivor.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Deeks whispers, his voice quivering. He drops his head between his knees and begins to sob. The tears begin to fall when he feels Callen’s arms wrap around his shoulders.

It’s everything he needs in the moment and the brotherly love from the Callen’s he’s always wanted.

—-------

“Fatima, I need a favor.”

Via video chat, Kensi watches Fatima’s expression shift from worry to confusion at the request. Kensi slides onto the stool at the kitchen island and glances for the tenth time or so to the patio window. She’s been monitoring Deeks since he had walked in the door twenty minutes prior and walked straight to the back patio steps without a word.

A quiet Deeks, especially a somber, quiet Deeks breaks her heart.

“What do you need?” Fatima asks. “I heard that Deeks’ session with the psychologist didn’t end well-”

“You could say that.” Kensi recalls the warning text from Callen of how the talk on the beach had gone. “I need you to look up Laura and Richard Cooper and email everything you can about them. I need to know if…they're alive and if they still live in the area.”

"Alright….give me one second," Fatima replies. She taps furiously on her tablet and then reads, "Laura and Richard Cooper…..Laura Cooper died from an aneurysm in 1993 while Richard is still in the area. Do you want an address?”

Do I? Kensi sees Deeks scratch the back of his head and then brush away his bangs. Even from afar, she knows the signs of defeat in Deeks. Depends on who exactly Laura and Richard Cooper were to him.

-------

Part 4 coming soon

#densi #ncis la #marty deeks #bad things happen bingo #bad things bingo #kensi blye #g callen

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eyes-of-mischief · 1 year

Text

weekly fic recs | 31

prompt: terminal/chronic

fandoms: bnha, dn, fma, hq, svsss, tua, yoi

bnha

Anidiotropia by Kizimba

(graphic depictions of violence)

“Are you having an episode?” Aizawa asked carefully and inclined his head at Midoriya’s hand. He’d been pawing at his chest since shortly after the hero’s arrival. Keenly aware that further stress would worsen his condition, Eraserhead had kept quiet about it until it looked like he was improving.

“Mm,” he answered after a long while, blinking slowly. ---- Less than 1% of Japan’s population was quirkless and their numbers were thinning due to an unexplained increase of heart failure.

An abandoned stray living off the scraps his last foster family sends him, Midoriya Izuku is forced to take the reins on his own finances and becomes a notorious online quirk analyst. It's more than just the public that takes an interest in Japan's enigmatic QA, though, and a failing heart soon becomes the least of Izuku's problems.

blue by aworus

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

The sole purpose of Izuku’s quirk is to keep him alive.

So it’s pretty ironic that it’s also slowly killing him.

Or: Izuku’s quirk has an unforeseen side effect

More Than Just a Burden by ghosteyes

Izuku's injuries catch up to him just as they're making the move into the dorms. Not only does he decide the best way to deal with them is to ignore it as much as physically possible, but he also does his best to hide it from his friends. Until he can't.

They seem to think it's a 'big deal' his hands sometimes hurt so much that he can't use them. Izuku doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to need special treatment. He doesn't want to have this problem, but it's getting harder and harder to do anything else.

death note

Sickness by BlueberryValentine

Stunning what sickness can draw out of people. L + Light + brain cancer.

haikyuu

the galaxies were endless (i thought we were too) by cosmogony

(major character death)

soulmate /ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun A person who was made from the same star as you.

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

fma

a terrifying clamour of trumpets by ShanaStoryteller

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?”

The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?”

There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

svsss

Who had you was? I yes you would by technorat

(explicit) (graphic depictions of violence)

Shen Qingqiu struggles against migraines and his own exhaustion. Liu Qingge knows something is wrong but doesn't know what.

Or, Shen Yuan transmigrates into a tumor in Shen Qingqiu's head.

fuel the embers with the flames of your soul by MissParasol

(mature)

Trapped in Huan Hua’s Water Prison, Shen Yuan’s illness from his previous life relapses.

tua

Counting Down The Days To Go by siriuspiggyback

(major character death)

It started off small. Easy to explain away. That was his downfall, in the end. By the time they diagnosed him, it was too late; the cancer had gotten a tight hold on his body.

Klaus wouldn't tell his siblings, not yet, no matter how much Ben begged him. He wanted to feel as normal as he could, for as long as he could.

Bruise Easily, Bad in the Blood by siriuspiggyback

His chest aches with the force of his heart beating, and he gasps for air like a drowning man. At Ben's urging, barely audible over the ringing of his ears, he sits and puts his head between his knees. He feels like he might be floating, or rocking; the sensation is unsettling close to being blackout drunk.

After a long minute, he falls back down to earth.

Ben admits, "I don't think that was a panic attack."

"Told you so," Klaus whines weakly, too exhausted for true smugness.

yoi

don't worry by JMonCheri

(major character death)

Time seemed to slow to a stop, at first Viktor seemed to falter as he slowed alongside with time, his flush obvious on his cheeks. Viktor stopped skating, his form stayed frozen on the rink, before promptly dropping to the ice like a ragdoll.

Yuuri gasps alongside with the crowd. Viktor did not do any jumps, spins, or anything. Viktor Nikiforov, his undefeatable champion, his naive Fiancé, his love, his everything, has simply fainted.

Viktor did not look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

For the first time that night, Yuuri allowed himself to listen to the announcer’s booming voices.

“Viktor Nikiforov has fainted! Where are the medics? I repeat, Viktor Nikiforov has fainted!”

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talenlee · 2 months

Text

FFXIV: Rin Stormenni

This is an explanatory writeup of one of my Original Characters (OCs). Nothing here is necessarily related to a meaningful fiction you should recognise and is shared because I think my OCs are cool and it’s cool to talk about OCs you make.

“If you follow this path, of this abyss of love, then you must do it knowing. You will be bane, outcast, criminal, rival, sinner. All the world will hate you, young one, and you will have no kingdom but that of strife.”

The young man beamed, dripping still with tyrant’s blood.

“Then I shall be the Prince of a Thousand Enemies.”

Self-made outcast. Valiant crusader. End of days. Bun goes hop.

It’s not arrogance if it’s justified.

Rin Stormenni is one of the strange footnotes in many another adventurer’s history. A short, fit blue-haired Viera boy with a seemingly out-of-location accent wherever he goes, he projects an air of being flighty, thoughtless and effortlessly airheaded. Big, heavy topics don’t tend to stick to Rin, whether they be the struggles of economies or the horrors of war. He’s also not welcome in many cities, it seems, with guards typically either knowing they want to get rid of him, or assuming they want to get rid of him.

Rin is also a terrifying force of absolutely heartless violence.

Typically, people call the kind of thing he is some kind of paladin, dark knight or other form of mage-knight. Obviously something about Rin is magical, because this is Eorzea and everyone is at least a little bit magical, but his magic is that of clouds of roses, of barbed thorns, and of trailing black shadows. There is something haunted in every wood, and that kind of darkness is the darkness that permeates Rin. Something about Rin speaks of a time when blood and claw were the greatest truths, where a bad king could just be killed, and he has not forgotten that.

In other people’s much more complicated, much more complex stories, he’s the character who sits in the background asking why don’t we just kill them?

Rin doesn’t seem to have a job, he doesn’t seem to have much in the way of money and yet despite that he’s always seemingly free to wander around and get up to things. His freeness plays out in even the things he achieves – he may slay a dreadful beast, get a huge reward, and immediately hand it on to someone who was nearby because they were nearby. What Rin values more than anything to do with power or prestige is stories, and he thinks a story about someone else doing something amazing is more interesting than a story about him getting a big pile of somethings.

Oh, and if you ask Rin, he’ll happily introduce himself as a Fae Prince, claiming to be The Prince of a Thousand Enemies. He does not explain this.

Mechanics

Mechanically, Rin is a Dark Knight. He also has levels of Dragoon. If I ever want to level him with a healer class, it’d be the Sage. The unifying trait between these three classes is that they have a leap which lets them close in on an enemy quickly, creating the phenomenon I’ve joked about of bun goes hop.

There’s nothing interesting to talk about here; any given member of one of these classes is every bit the mechanically indistinct execution puzzle that any of the others are.

Final Fantasy XIV is a lot of things but it isn’t good at being a game really. It isn’t the kind of game I like to play, with individual expression or fluid play moments. It’s largely, a game of walking between conversation nodes and occasionally there’s an unsatisfying fight between them. Then if you’re very good you get to do a dungeon or an alliance raid, and those tend to be fun when you’re not super bored with them. Because of that, it’s weird that I wind up making alts in this game, and that Rin isn’t even the last of them.

(It’s because Final Fantasy XIV is where my friends are, and they’re more important to me than mere play experience.)

Place in the World

Thing is, Rin’s right?

Like, he is a Fae prince. Through some means or another, he wound up in the domain of a Faerie Queen, and whether through violence or charm, he rules that domain. Very rarely, he just takes people in to visit it, to show them a throne of stone surrounded by vines, in a moonlit palace, but it isn’t like he’s making stuff up.

It plays into other things about him that are strange; despite the dangerous things he fights, he never seems bothered by them, nor particularly concerned about things like the fear of tempering. During the Day of Blasphemies, he was seen leaping from fight to fight, striking Blasphemies once and then refusing to kill them. Days later, several of the people that became these blasphemies were found again, unable to explain what happened to them or how.

Rin is not a character who fixes the big thing. He’s someone who stands in the face of the things we’re told we have to fear, have to care about, and laughs. Because we don’t. The world is full of dumb things that aren’t important, and they demand obeisance, and he refuses to give it to them. When presented with the demand to kneel, Rin responds as befits someone who’s overjoyed to make new, better kinds of enemies:

With violence.

Okay, but what kind of places does Rin show up in? Places with trouble.

Rin isn’t the Warrior of Light, not even in his personal canon. In the narrative of the game he runs through he keeps showing up at these events where people are all: What about the Warrior of Light!? We need the Warrior of Light here to deal with this! and he’s like: What really? Eh, lemme take a crack at it, and it turns out, no, you don’t need a warrior of light, you need an idiot with a big sword.

If you’re the Warrior of Light and you talk to him his response will probably be something in the vein of ‘cool!’ and not any interest in trying to dissuade you. After all, you’re probably right. What would he know?

Rin is a big fan of hearing people tell their stories. He is happy to listen to your problems and he wants to learn about what would make you happy, what problems would drive your story forward, what would help you overcome some barrier to your own life. And then, if he can, he’s going to try and find it for you. This is obviously, very, very silly and runs the risk of encountering some very reckless problems. Just ask his friend, the Queen of Coins, who got handed a criminal empire because he told a lie good enough.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Final Fantasy XIV #My OCs #Games #Making

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chill-pills-yandere-haven · 3 years

Note

Can you do the Yandere idol au with 4nemo. Cause they’re all beauties nothing can change my mind😤

Wooh! First ask! Here is a little drabble I made for you, enjoy! (Might also make headcanons for the group)

Tw: Yandere, mention of violence

Disclaimer: Yanderes are abusive, this is not a healthy crush.

Made, finished, and posted same day.

A Dream of Coffee and K-pop

(Not my art)

Sunlight shone through the window, the smell of freshly ground coffee beans wafted through the air, it was truly beautiful. You and your best friend had decided to stop for a drink break and found yourselves here. Honestly, you were thinking about becoming a regular here, the atmosphere has heavenly and the food and drink were delicious. Then you heard camera clicks and squealing. You let out a slight sound of confusion and irritation. Forced out of your state of serenity, you looked back at your friend to see what happened. Their face was red and they seemed to be holding back an almost terrifying grin. It didn't make sense to you, all that happened was that four men and a bunch of other people entered the cafe. "Holy archon of idol groups! It's 4NEMO!" Your friend was now shaking you, making you look even closer at the four men who had just entered. Even on further inspection they only looked like rich people with hair dye, you didn't see anything special. "Who?" You blinked, just annoyed that your peaceful coffee break had been interrupted. "I swear to God, you uncultured swine. That's 4NEMO, the hottest new K-pop group. I sent you a link to their newest album, you know, the one I've been going crazy over because they had a collab with DCKZ and Lumine from ABYSS?" They facepalm at your obliviousness to the literal celebrities that are in the same place as you. "Sorry, I forgot to check it out yesterday, I was studying." You apologize for not at least trying to see what was so good about these K-pop bands that were your best friend's newest obsession. But you did have a life of your own, you were studying to become a surgeon so you never really had much free time. "Hello, there! I was wondering if you two could share some space? seems that there's nowhere else for us to sit in this place." Out of nowhere, a young man with braided hair that faded from dark brown to teal and emerald eyes that almost made you want to trust him, was at your table, asking if he and his three friends could sit with you all. "Oh my lord, 4NEMO is asking to sit with us! Squee! Please say yes, my dear best friend who has brought us both insane luck, please?" Resistance was futile when your best friend was almost begging you to let them sit with you two, trying to do the best puppy dog eyes they could. "Yeah sure, you all can sit with us, just squeeze in." You relented and moved further into the booth to create space. The one with the braids and a guy with mostly white hair that had part of it dyed red sat on your side of the booth while a blonde with golden eyes and a man with an edgy vibe to him sat with your friend. The before almost empty cafe was now bustling with people and you swore you could feel a couple of people glaring at you. You gave a close-eyed smile and a small sigh, this could've been worse. The six of you ended up getting along quickly, talking the day away. Your friend was malfunctioning most of the time from being in the same room as their idols so you tried to calm them down from the shock but it didn't work. You found that the 4NEMO boys were actually quite sweet and easy to talk to, maybe excluding Xiao who wasn't one for small talk, or any talk. All of you exchanged numbers before you had to leave and even gave your super fan best friend some signatures. Kazuha then handed you both VIP tickets and backstage passes for their next concert saying that you could be his plus twos. But only because all the boys were allowed to give out two free tickets to whomever they chose. You all said goodbye and you made a mental note to check out their music once you got to the comfort of your apartment. But as you left, you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with your new friends no matter how many times you tried to brush it off. (On the other side.) Kazuha was the one to first notice you. A serene being in the middle of the cafe, face illuminated by the evening light. On your face was a beautiful smile more genuine than anything he had ever seen. You were the only one whose head didn't turn as they

entered, even ignoring the obvious adoring look on the person beside you's face. He confidentially alerted the other members of his group to your presence. All with some variation of curiosity and something that he could only describe as a breath of fresh air on their faces when they completely took you in. "I don't think they even know about our band." Aether supplied, you had a true expression of complete cluelessness even when he heard your friend explaining who they were just loud enough for him to hear. You were much too enticing and adorable, especially for someone who he just saw. "Why does it matter, we're here for public appearances, coffee and desserts, not some random person," Xiao mumbled, loud enough for the rest of them to hear. He didn't understand what was so special about them, just another attractive stranger. Though, part of him did understand why his group mates felt this way. "Who cares, I'm making a move," The lead singer of the group, Venti announced, making his way over to their table after looking around for anything they could use as an excuse. Ah, of course, because of their appearance, the little cafe was now packed. He brought himself and the others up to your table, acting charismatic in hopes you would let them stay. Though the idol group didn't even need an excuse as your best friend would have convinced you either way. Surprisingly, everyone in the group almost immediately warmed up to you, even Xiao. Kazuha was the one to give you his plus two tickets mainly because everyone else had already invited other people but luckily, Kazuha hadn't used his yet. The 4NEMO boys were a good distance away from the cafe and we're finally able to freely talk. "So, we're sharing them?" Aether asked, getting a nod or a yup from everyone in return. "We should do more research on them. What if they're already dating someone?" The composer of the group, Kazuha supplied. Noticing how the other boys' expressions got just a bit more malicious at that. Xiao looked around, being sure that they were completely isolated. "Then I'll give them a threat or a concussion." Xiao threatened, the other members were mostly in agreement with the statement. Any of them would already do appalling things for their new friend and future lover. "I'm sure as long as we don't scare them away they'll fall head over heels in love with at least one of us. We just need more time with them." Venti assured, not the fondest of using violence to settle his disputes. "Well one thing's for sure, they will learn to love us and will be ours." Aether voiced the idea on everyone's mind as they stepped into their shared studio apartment that could comfortably house about eight people. Leaving them all to individually plan how they would make you theirs.

#yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #yandere blog #male yandere #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kazuha #yandere xiao #yandere venti #yandere aether #Yandere genshin idol au #Chill pill's yandere haven #genshin impact #genshin au #yandere oneshot

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raggaraddy · 3 years

Note

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce. And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'. Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #bts yoongi #min yoongi #mafia!bts #Mafia!yoongi #bts yandere

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cocobeanncteez · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 1)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 2, Part 3, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking. Unprotected sex (pulling out), facesitting.

Other than Ateez, all other names are fictional.

"Where have you brought me?" you questioned, looking up at your uncle in pure detestation when he pushed you into a dark room and took off your blindfold.

"Change into that dress quickly," he replied, ignoring your question, pointing to a red dress lying on a chair. "It's time for me to make some good money." He smirked, giving you a look before leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

You don't know why your uncle had brought you here. Your father recently went missing and now you were certain your uncle was behind it.

You rarely saw your father since you lived with your uncle and his family. Your mother passed away when you were a newborn and you have no siblings.

You glanced at the red dress your uncle told you to wear. It was quite short and had a deep V-neck. You sighed as you quickly wore the dress, looking into the dirty and damaged full-length mirror to see how it looked on you.

A woman dressed in a similar dress came inside the room. "I'm getting sold too," she said softly, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Sold? What do you mean?"

Before she could reply, two built men came into the room and grabbed you by the arms, forcefully dragging you out.

"Where are you taking me?!" you yelled, struggling to get your arms out of their strong grasp.

"Shut the fuck up if you don't want a bullet in your head," one the men said nonchalantly.

You could hear the familiar voice of your uncle and you assumed he was talking through a mic. You were thrown onto a stage, bright lights shining on you that blinded your vision.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you could see about a hundred people in the room, staring at you from head to toe.

"So who would like to buy this beauty?" your uncle yelled. All the men and even some of the women started yelling while raising their hands. You shivered, realizing that you were in some sort of human trafficking auction. Your eyes immediately teared up. How cruel could your uncle be? How cruel could all these people here be, selling humans like that?

You looked around, checking to see if there was any way to escape, but there were way too many guards, so you decided to go with the flow for now.

"We're starting from 50 million won," your uncle stated after the crowd calmed down.

You saw someone in the crowd raise a sign with their name and a number on it. "50 million!"

"70 million!"

"140 million!"

"250 million!"

"400 million!" a man yelled, causing everyone to keep quiet.

"400 million... going once, going—"

"500 million!" another man yelled. You could hear whispers all around you. You couldn't even believe how rich these people were, all their money obviously obtained through illegal means.

"500 million... Going once... going twice... sold!" your uncle said cheerfully and started clapping. "Congratulations, Mr. Byun! She's all yours!"

Two of Mr. Byun's men took you away and made you sit in a black car while their boss made his payment. They were really handsome and dressed in suits. You were actually terrified, but you tried to act normal.

You saw a man with long hair and thick bushy eyebrows approach the car. He was wearing spectacles and had a thick moustache. He got into the car, looking at you as he sat beside you. You noticed that he had a gun in his pocket, making you wonder what exactly he does for a living, albeit you had a fair idea already.

"Start driving, Mingi," he said in a mellifluous voice to the red-haired man who was sitting in the driver's seat. Mingi nodded and started driving immediately while you kept quiet and looked outside the window, pondering about how you could escape.

"Take that shit off, hyung. It looks hideous on you," the other guy with blue hair said, grabbing your attention.

Mr. Byun took off his spectacles, fake moustache and eyebrows, and the wig. You didn't even realize that he was wearing a disguise before.

Your eyes widened when you saw him. His features were sharp and absolutely perfect. He looked like he was going to shoot for some fashion magazine. He seemed to be around your age; so did the other two guys.

You didn't realize that you were gawking at him until Mingi chuckled. "Someone is shocked."

You blushed in embarrassment, instantly looking away. You cleared your throat. "I was just wondering why Mr. Byun was wearing a disguise."

"Oh Byun is just a fake name he used," Mingi said. "His name is actually Hongjoong."

And that's when it hit you.

"Hongjoong? As in, Kim Hongjoong of Ateez?" you blurted out, making all the three men's eyes widen.

Hongjoong quickly reached under the car seat, pulling out handcuffs before swiftly handcuffing you. He took his tie off and used it as a blindfold for you.

Your hands were handcuffed to the armrest of a chair. You really hoped these guys weren't Ateez. But after seeing the other five men once they removed your blindfold, you knew it was really them: the eight most feared men in the crime world in the country.

You were so fucked; especially since you were in an interrogation room with an unconscious bleeding man in the corner.

"How do you know me? How do know Ateez?" Hongjoong asked coldly, a small hint of panic in his eyes. You regretted opening your mouth before.

You averted your gaze from the bleeding man. "I... overheard my uncle talk about you," you answered honestly.

"Hongjoong, let San take care of this," one of the taller guys with black curly hair said.

"No, Seonghwa, I've got this," Hongjoong said, his eyes not leaving you.

Seonghwa only rolled his eyes. "San."

Another guy with pink hair nodded before approaching you. Hongjoong sighed in frustration before moving to the side, letting San replace him. You could easily tell that Hongjoong had a short temper.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions so please cooperate," San said with a sweet smile, letting his dimples show. You would've melted for that smile if you didn't know that he was extremely dangerous. "So tell me, what is your name?"

"Kiah... Moon Kiah," you replied.

"How old are you?"

"I'm 21."

"Who is your uncle who told you about us?"

You took a deep breath, already exhausting from the questioning. "Moon Younghyun." All the eight men look surprised.

"Your uncle sold you, his own niece, at a human auction?" Seonghwa asked with a frown and you nodded in response.

"That bastard," Mingi growled, surprising you. Why was he pissed about that?

"What did your uncle tell you about us, Kiah?" San questioned.

You bit your lip nervously. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" San asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Cause you'll shoot me or rape me to death due to how offensive it is," you mumbled. "And honestly, I'd rather not die that way." The boys were shocked at your sudden boldness, not expecting you to say that at all. Half of them looked offended.

"Excuse me, woman, we're not rapists," the guy with purple hair said, clearly offended.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I heard." You were wondering where your sudden confidence came from when these men could literally kill you in a fraction of a second.

"Well, then what did you hear?" San asked. "Tell us and we'll honestly tell you what's true and what's not." You contemplated that; you had nothing to lose anyway if they choose to kill you.

"I heard that Ateez is a mafia gang engaged in mostly human trafficking, drug deals, raping and murdering innocent people."

The guy with light brown hair, who looked like a Greek God, cleared his throat. "Out of everything you said, only the drug deals were true."

You snorted. "And why would I believe you?"

"Well, why would you believe your uncle who just sold you?" he retorted.

"But you guys fucking bought me at a human auction!"

"Would you rather be bought by someone else who would actually treat you like a fucking sex slave?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You kept quiet at that. "Believe me, Kiah, that's what the people there were for. They were all looking for sex slaves."

"Yeosang's right," San stated. "You should be grateful that we saved your life."

"What were you guys doing there then?" you questioned. "If you claim that you don't do all that, then why were you there in the first place?"

"Your uncle is our enemy. We had to see what he was up to," Yunho answered.

"Then why did you buy me?"

"You ask way too many questions," Hongjoong snapped in an annoyed tone, trying not to lose his temper completely.

"Joong, chill," Seonghwa said, making Hongjoong roll his eyes.

Mingi moved to stand in front of you. "I was the one who begged Hongjoong to adopt you," he said with a smile.

"Terrible decision," Hongjoong muttered under his breath.

You snorted. "Adopt?"

Mingi shrugged. "I don't like the word 'bought' so we're just going to say that."

You smiled a little at his words. "All right, Mingi, care to explain why you... adopted me?"

Mingi grinned. "Well, I've seen you a couple of times near your university’s hospital," he stated, making the guys look at him in surprise; they didn't know Mingi knew your face before. "And besides, you're beautiful. It would be such a waste if you were sold as a sex slave when you're so talented." Hongjoong gives Mingi a look that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You chuckled. "What makes you think I'm talented?"

"I've done my research," he said. "You're the only nursing student intern who is allowed to watch surgeries and help in minor ones."

"No wonder you wanted to adopt her," Yunho remarked.

You heard a groan behind you, coming from the bleeding man who just gained consciousness. You felt really bad for him.

"Don't worry about him," Yeosang said, noticing the concern in your eyes. "He deserved it."

"Why?" you murmured. "What did he do?"

"You wouldn't want to know," Seonghwa laughed before turning to one of the guys. "Remove the handcuffs, Jongho."

Jongho nodded and unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists with a key. You stretched your arms out in front of you, feeling a little free now.

"All right, I can go home..." you trailed off, realizing that you didn't have a home anymore. Your uncle would definitely sell you again if you went back there. Looks like you would have to crash at a friend's place.

"I'm afraid we can't let you go," Hongjoong stated.

Your eyes widened. "You're keeping me hostage?!"

"You know too much about us," San said with a small smile. "We're sorry."

You scoffed, getting up from the chair. "I refuse to be a fucking prisoner here in your dungeon!"

"Holy fuck, you're so tiny!" Yunho said in awe, stepping forward to tower over you. "I think I'm a foot taller than you! How cute!" he squealed. Was this guy really in the Mafia?

Before you could respond, Yunho lifted you up like a baby. "I'm gonna show you the house."

He carried you out of the interrogation room and up a flight of stairs until you reached a living room that could easily fit more than three hundred people. Your eyes widened at the sight of it; surely this was a joke, right?

You were in a luxurious mansion.

You glanced around in awe, noticing how one side of the living room had floor to ceiling windows, complemented with maroon and gold curtains. There was a large open-kitchen right next to the living room, and a wooden staircase on the other side where pictures adorned the wall. You wondered how many rooms were in this mansion and what the exterior looked like.

Yunho set you down on your feet. "You're free to move around the house, Kiah. We aren't going to lock you up," he said, chuckling at your stunned reaction.

"How many rooms does this place have?" you questioned while walking around the living room.

Wooyoung plopped himself on one of the sofas. "There's nine bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and six other rooms for different purposes."

"The guest room is still under renovation, so you will be sleeping in Hongjoong's room for the time being," Mingi informed.

"What?!" You and Hongjoong yelled in unison.

"Not the bad temper guy of all people!" you whined, making all the guys except Hongjoong laugh. "Can't I sleep in your room instead?"

"You could," Mingi laughed. "But then my girlfriend would have my head."

"There's a woman in this house? Thank fucking goodness!" you sighed in relief.

Jongho chuckled. "There's three, actually. Well, now four."

"Where are they?" you questioned.

"Seonghwa's girl is on a mission so you'll see her next week," San replied. "I don't know where Mingi's girl is, and my girl is—"

"Hi!" you heard someone yell before running and pulling you into a tight hug. She pulled away and gave you a bright smile; you liked her already. "I'm Jiwoo!"

San chuckled at his girlfriend's actions before moving to wrap his arms around her waist. He kissed her forehead, making her smile. They were so cute! "This is my girlfriend, Jiwoo. Babe, this is Kiah."

"San and Jiwoo are the hyper couple here," Yunho stated. "They're both just so full of energy."

"We're going to be great friends, I'm sure of it!" Jiwoo said, making you smile.

Maybe living here wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Hongjoong's bedroom was huge. The walls were a penny brown and most of the decor was white and beige. There was a large TV right in front of the king sized bed. There was also a small flight of stairs leading down to a Jacuzzi that could fit six people in it.

You realized that you didn't have any clothes except for the red dress you were wearing right now. You didn't even have a phone anymore.

You heard footsteps behind you, making you turn to the source. A shirtless Hongjoong walked past you to the wardrobe, stripping until he was left only in his Calvin Klein hip briefs. You couldn't help but stare as he picked out some clothes to sleep in. You absentmindedly bit your lip when he wore his grey sweatpants and a black tank top. You quietly left the bathroom after washing your face, hoping he didn't notice you staring.

After several seconds, Hongjoong came into the bedroom, stretching his hands above his head. "You're gonna sleep in that?" he asked.

You rolled your eyes. "I don't have anything else to sleep in."

Hongjoong sighed before heading back to the wardrobe, coming back with a plain white t-shirt. He tossed it to you and you went to the bathroom to change. His t-shirt smelled so pleasant, you couldn't stop inhaling the scent.

When you went back to the bedroom, Hongjoong was in deep thought. "You know," he started, looking at you from head to toe, secretly loving the way his t-shirt looked on your small form. "I just realized that you didn't really protest to live here."

You sat on his springy bed. "Well, I don't have anywhere else to go."

He scoffed. "Or maybe you just want to live here."

"I used to live with my uncle. If I had my own place, I wouldn't even spend a second here," you deadpanned.

"So you've never worked?" he asked. "Not even a part time job?"

"Do you think medical students have time for that?" you retorted.

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Looks like you'll get along with Yeosang and Seonghwa."

"What makes you think that?"

"They're Ateez's doctors," he stated. "Well, Yeosang mainly works as our hacker, but he's almost as skilled as Seonghwa.

There was some silence for a while until you spoke, "Are we even in Seoul right now?"

"We're at the outskirts," Hongjoong answered. "Gwanak-san, to be precise."

"Ah, near my university!" you said happily. "Actually, you know what?"

"What?"

"I can stay with a friend," you said. "He has an apartment right beside my university."

Hongjoong chuckled, but he clearly wasn't amused at all. "I'm afraid that's not possible, love." Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said 'love' but you ignored it.

You frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, you already know too much about us," he stated. "Besides, you've already entered the Mafia world. There's no going back."

Your blood boiled. "I don't give a fuck, Hongjoong. I didn't ask you to buy me and pull me into your stupid Mafia world!" your voice was rising.

Hongjoong got annoyed at the way you raised your voice at him. "For your information, you got pulled into this world the second your uncle got involved in it! You lived with someone who's in the fucking Mafia!"

"At least my life was normal!" you retorted.

"You know what? Fine!" Hongjoong raised his voice, scaring you a little. "I'll personally drop you at your fucking uncle's house tomorrow, okay?!"

"You don't get to decide that and I'm not going back to that monster!"

"Then shut the fuck up and appreciate the shelter you've been given here goddammit!" Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair in frustration. You just keep quiet, looking away while your eyes filled with tears.

"Why the fuck did I even agree to buy a brat like you?" he murmured, but you heard him.

"Fuck yourself," you whispered.

In a flash, you were on your back, Hongjoong hovering above you.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that! You make me want to punish you so fucking bad," Hongjoong growled. Your heart was racing at how close he was.

"Get the fuck off me," you said, avoiding eye contact.

He grabbed your chin, making you look at him. "You piss me off so much, Moon Kiah."

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes. "Well, then tame your damn temper, Kim Hongjoong."

"Tame your attitude first, love," he chuckled bitterly before getting off of you. He lied on his back, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He clapped twice and the lights turn off, making the room pitch-black.

You bit your lip, wondering what to do. You couldn't stay here; you didn't even want to. You weren't meant for the Mafia world— you decided to get into the medical field so that you could save lives, not take them away.

You wanted to run away right now, even though it was half past midnight. But you needed a plan since you don't exactly know where you are were.

"I just realized," Hongjoong starts, smirking in the dark. "You haven't protested to sleeping on the same bed as me."

You snorted. "Why would I?"

"That's what girls usually do, don't they? And the guy will offer to take the couch instead of her."

"Well, I'm not like other girls," you stated. "I'd rather sleep on a bed than a couch outside, and I'm sure you'd prefer that as well. Besides, this is a king-sized bed. There's plenty of room for both of us. In fact, there's extra space cause you're tiny."

Hongjoong snorted. "Excuse me, I'm not tiny."

"You are."

"I'm more than half a foot taller than you, Kiah."

You shrugged. "Doesn't matter, tiny boy. You're still tinier than the other seven boys."

"But I lead them," Hongjoong said proudly with a smirk that you obviously couldn't see.

"What do you mean?" you questioned without thinking.

"Think, love," he answered.

You gave it a thought before your eyes widened in realization. "You're a... Mafia King."

He chuckled. "We actually use the term 'boss' but I like that," he said, pulling the blanket over your bodies.

"So the other seven boys follow your orders," it wasn't a question. You actually thought Seonghwa was the boss.

"Yup."

"I pity them," you murmured, but he heard you.

He scoffed. "You will be following my orders too," he said. "That's if we decide to make you one of us."

"Yeah... no, that's never gonna happen," you remarked. "I want to save lives, not take them away."

"Actually, you would want to take these lives away if you knew what these people do," he said, lying on his side to face you. "Ateez doesn't kill innocent people." You felt a little relieved at that; at least you knew you wouldn't die by a gunshot or something.

"And what do those people do that makes you want to kill them?" you questioned, turning onto your side as well so that you were facing him.

He snorted. "Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

"We usually kill rapists and human traffickers. These people mostly target women and children. They kidnap children, rape them, and then sell their organs within the country or internationally. The women are usually sold as sex slaves or kept in prostitution centers. Some mafia gangs own strip clubs where their strippers get assaulted or raped by customers and they do nothing about it."

"Your uncle used to run a fake orphanage," Hongjoong continues. "I came across that place when I was fifteen years old and found out that they were keeping those kids there to sell their organs. I told my parents about it and we bombed that place after rescuing those children, and put them in an actual proper orphanage. Two boys who were just a year younger than me had escaped from the orphanage. They ran after my parents just to thank them for saving their lives. My parents saw a lot of potential in the two boys and decided to take them in. That's how Yeosang and Wooyoung became a part of my family."

The story really broke your heart; you couldn't even imagine what those two had to go through when they were just in their early teens. You were curious about the other six boys' stories too. You wanted to ask Hongjoong about it, but now didn't seem like the right time.

You don't really know how and when you fell asleep after hearing all those disturbing things, but somehow you did.

And when you woke up, you were in Hongjoong's arms.

You tried to escape from him, but his hold around you was too strong. You gave up on trying and chose to admire his beautiful face instead.

You had to admit, Hongjoong was extremely handsome. You've never seen anyone look this good while they're asleep. He looked so soft and angelic, you found it hard to believe that he was in the mafia, let alone a mafia boss.

You heard a knock on the bedroom door before the door opened, revealing San and Jiwoo.

"Hi!" Jiwoo greeted. "Good morning!" You wondered how she had so much energy in the morning.

"I see you've slept well," San commented with a smirk while gesturing at Hongjoong's arms around you.

You blushed. "Help me." San easily lifted Hongjoong's arm off of you.

"He sleeps like he's in coma," San said, making you chuckle while you stretched your arms.

"We're going shopping today," Jiwoo said to you. "You need clothes."

"I don't have any money, Jiwoo," you said.

She snorted. "You don't have to worry about that, we're paying for you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but San interrupted you. "We don't have any plans of letting you go, Kiah. Think of it as a gift for joining us." You just nodded in response even though you wanted to disagree. You weren't going to join a mafia gang; that was the last thing you wanted to do.

You had to escape.

You had just come back from shopping with Jiwoo, exhausted from walking around the mall; you were pretty sure that she made you spend more than ten million won.

"So Kiah," Yeosang starts, sitting on the sofa beside Mingi and Seonghwa. "You're a medical student, right?"

"Yup, majoring in nursing," you nodded. "Hongjoong told me that you and Seonghwa are the doctors of the gang."

"What were you planning to do after graduation?" Seonghwa asked. You didn't miss how he used 'were' instead of 'are.'

You gently cleared your throat. "Well, I want to become a surgical nurse for the cardiac department."

"Ah, that's great!" he said with a smile. "I wanted to get into Neuro."

"Why didn't you?" you asked while absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair.

"Once you join the mafia, you have to sacrifice having a normal job," Yeosang replied nonchalantly. You couldn't tell if he was sad about it.

"I wanted to ask you all something," you murmured, but the three of them heard you clearly.

"You can ask us anything you want, Kiah," Mingi encouraged. "We'll answer everything."

"Well, if you're gonna keep me here..." you hesitated for a second. "Um, does that mean that I can't work?" Yeosang and Seonghwa exchanged a glance that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You'll have to ask Hongjoong about that, but mostly yes. You won't be able to work," Seonghwa said. "It's too dangerous. You can only work for us." You only nodded, unhappy with the words you heard.

"Can I at least attend my own graduation?" you were mentally begging they would agree.

"When is it?" Yeosang asked.

"It's on the day after tomorrow."

"Of course you can," Hongjoong said, entering the living room and plopping down on one of the sofas.

"Really?!" you squealed in excitement.

"I was being sarcastic," he stated, making your smile immediately falter.

"I didn't study my ass off for nothing, Hongjoong," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffed. "Do you think I care?"

"Well, I do." You were starting to get angry. Yunho entered the living room, not saying anything due to the tense atmosphere.

"You'll put us and people you know at risk," Hongjoong shrugged.

"That's your problem," you remarked, pissing him off. "I didn't ask you to buy me, Hongjoong."

"Adopt," Mingi mumbled, but you ignored him.

You and Hongjoong were locked in a glaring contest. Yunho cleared his throat after a while, catching Hongjoong's and your attention. "Hyung, you disguised yourself. No one knows that it was you who bought her."

"Adopted," Mingi murmured, getting ignored again.

Hongjoong gave it a thought. "Fine," he agreed. "But we all will attend it too, whether you like it or not."

“Deal.”

You were seated in your respective seat, desperately waiting for the graduation ceremony to get over even though one of Seoul's top doctors was invited to talk. All eight boys and Jiwoo were attending your graduation. You wished your father was here to watch you graduate.

Once the ceremony was finally over and all the students collected their diplomas, you all gathered around to throw your dark blue caps in the air.

"I can't believe we successfully survived four entire years," Dongyoon remarked.

"Time to try to survive med school now," Yonghwa said and Chanhee nodded in agreement; they were on the road to becoming doctors. "But for now, let's get fucking wasted!"

You were at one of Seoul's best nightclubs in Gangnam; you didn't tell anyone in Ateez that you'd leave with your university friends. This was your way of running away. You were going to stay with Chanhee until you found a place.

Being a Tuesday night, the club wasn't crowded. Most of the people here were definitely high school or university students. After all, it was graduation week in Korea.

You drank and danced with your friends until you were drunk as fuck and your feet hurt. You felt so relaxed, just paying attention to the blasting music while the alcohol in your system gave you some energy.

"Oh? Who do we have here?" you heard a familiar voice say behind you while you took another shot. You had no idea where your friends were.

You turned around and squinted to look at the man. "Moon Bojoon...?"

"Hello, sister," your cousin chuckled, putting his arms around your drunk form. You hated him with every fiber of your being— he tried to sexually assault you a couple of times. Living under the same roof as him was hell.

"Get your hands off me," you yelled over the loud music, weakly trying to push him away; he didn't even move an inch.

His grip around you tightened. "I wonder who father sold you to. How lenient are they to let their sex slave go out to party...? Or did you run away?"

You tried to push him away again. "Fuck off!"

He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you along until he reached the parking lot of the club. He pushed you harshly against his car, making you groan in pain when your head hit the window.

Bojoon moved his face closer to yours. "I'm gonna sell you this time," he whispered in your ear. "But I'll have my fun with you first, of course."

"Get away from me!" you yelled while your vision got blurry. Before you could comprehend what was even happening, you passed out.

623 notes · View notes

nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

glass : b.b

after a messy breakup with your boyfriend, you can’t help but be a tad bit reckless during a mission leaving bucky to help pick up the pieces and learn why you’re acting the way you are. (2.5k)

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, wounds, breakups

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

also hi, we’re almost at 5k which is amazing and i’m planning a little giveaway! sorry if i’ve been quiet this week, i have been hooked with the ‘shatter me’ series and i can’t get enough lmao. but i do have more pieces in the works :)

Sitting in the Quinjet, you could barely register what Tony was saying as the words that were practically spat at you last night circulated your thoughts.

“Y/n?” You flinch at the call of your name, breaking you from the trance-like state you were in.

Steve smiles warmly as he takes the seat beside you as prying eyes watch closely, noting the change in your mood the moment you boarded the jet.

“Sorry,” You mutter to Steve. “late night.”

Nodding in response, Steve glances over to a concerned Bucky whose brows remain knitted together. Usually, you would sit with Bucky, joke around with him and Sam about all sorts. Yet today, you boarded the jet and sat alone, closing your eyes and blocked everyone out.

“Tell me ‘bout it.” Steve playfully huffs, trying to incite some form of reaction, but you remain silent. “Listen, if you wanna talk,”

“Thanks, Steve.” You cut him off, forcing your lips upward. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

With that being his cue to leave you be, Steve shakes his head to Bucky as he wanders back toward Tony, organising the final details of the plan before you land.

“Okay team, descending now, arriving in less than ten.” Tony announces, ensuring he has everyone's attention- including yours. “So, Cap, you and Romanoff will head straight for the side entrance whilst Wilson and Barnes take the back. I want Y/L/N and Barton to head for the hostages.” Tony explains, watching as you all nod along.

“And what will you be doing, Tony?” Steve asks as he picks his shield up.

“I will be with Wanda,” Tony states as Wanda playfully salutes. “on standby in case something goes wrong.”

“Not that it will.” Wanda comments but quirks a brow to Sam who holds his hands up in defence.

“That was a one-time thing, witchy.” Sam retorts, causing Tony to roll his eyes once again at the team's antics.

“Anyway, get ready.” Tony finishes before retreating toward the pilot whilst everyone gathers their weapons.

Whilst grabbing your gun and placing it into your holster, you notice the small bruise forming on your wrist as your sleeve rises slightly. You quickly tug on it, thinking nothing of it as you reach for the set of knives you usually carry.

Yet Bucky noticed, it was impossible for Bucky to not notice the smallest of details about you. His heart ached at the sight. You’re known for being clumsy and would often laugh about the matter. If you got a bruise, you’d joke about it, explain how this one happened in another idiotic motion as opposed to hiding it.

“You ready for this one, Y/n?” Clint speaks up as he appears by your side, counting his arrows as you tighten your grip on your favourite knife, causing your knuckles to lighten in colour.

“As I’ll ever be.” You remark as the Quinjet door opens and you all walk out, splitting up into different directions.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t prepared enough as a team for what you encountered inside the building.

You reached the hostages and quickly untied them. They thanked you senselessly whilst Clint remained on guard, keeping a close eye on the door as you helped them to their feet.

“Who are you?” One man speaks up, his voice hoarse as he grips your arms for dear life.

“We’re the Avengers.” You softly tell the man, watching as the fear in his expression lightens, and he starts to laugh maniacally in your face.

Trying to prise yourself from his grasp, his nails dig into your skin. “You made a mistake coming here.” He states, breaking his gaze from you momentarily, giving you a chance to slam your foot into his.

With the man's grip easing, you snap yourself from his embrace and hit him with the butt of your gun. He falls to the ground, and you raise your gun to everyone else in the room.

“Who else is a plant?” You ask, looking at all of the terrified faces staring back at you. “Who else?!” You repeat yourself, adrenaline rushing through you before you fire your gun into the ceiling as they all jump.

Clint whips his head around, evidently shocked having never seen you react this way before. “Y/n,” He speaks up, but you ignore him, keeping your attention fixated on the ‘hostages’ before you.

“No one, Ma’am.” A little girl announces as she releases her mother's hand, stepping toward you. She looks up at you with her bright brown eyes and holds her hand out. “Are you here to save us?” She questions.

Kneeling down in front of the girl, you smile softly, your cool exterior melting. “Yes, and you’re all going to be okay, I promise.” You tell her, breaking your gaze as you look around at everyone else.

“Y/n, now.” Clint states as you rise to your feet, holding your hand out to the little girl who gladly accepts.

“Okay, follow me, you’ll all be safe if you stay close.” You explain to the dozen hostages who huddle together, following behind you and Clint.

“Tony? We have them, there was a plant, tell the others.” Clint speaks through the comms as he walks ahead, his bow at the ready in case anyone else lingers in the corridors.

Glancing over your shoulder, you check to ensure the hostages are still with you. Whilst your head is turned, you hear Clint groan and fall to the ground with a thud.

“Clint?” You rush forward whilst the hostages remain still. Holding your gun up, you turn the corner, catching sight of a man stood with his gun aimed at Clint’s unconscious body. “Corridor seven, ground floor.” You speak up, hoping someone hears you through the comms.

The man before you smirks as his gun is now aimed at you whilst you mirror his actions, not daring to let your hands shake as his words ring through your ears.

“You really think that’s a wise move?” He asks, removing the safety from his gun.

“I’m not one to go down without a fight.” You state, hearing a collection of footsteps echo behind the man as a glint of metal flashes across your eyes.

The man's focus shifts to behind you, but his gun remains trained to you. “Ah, I see we have a friend.” He chuckles and you can feel your heart rate increasing as the little girl stands by your side.

“She has us.” The girl states, standing tall as the hostages emerge and gather behind you.

Sighing under his breath, the man clicks his tongue. “Well, this is sweet and all, but you’re not making it out of here alive.” He scoffs, lowering his gun to the little girl.

Everything plays too quickly for Bucky’s liking as he runs toward the man, his arms outstretched and fists clenched.

Upon watching the man pull back the trigger, you force the little girl back, feeling the impact of the bullet hit your stomach. Another shot rings through your ears, but you’re already down on the ground, curled up.

Bucky steps over the man's body, not caring to step in the blood that pools around his head as he rushes toward you.

“Hey, doll, stay awake for me, okay?” Bucky pleads, brushing your hair out of your face as he glances down, noticing your fingers are coated in crimson. “Sam, get Tony, now!” He yells, picking you up in his arms as both Steve and Natasha appear, taking in the sight before them.

Bucky looks over to Steve, and he doesn’t need to say anything. “Go, we’ll handle it.” Steve nods to Bucky as you hang in his arms, eyes barely open.

Rushing past the hostages who stare with wide eyes, Bucky keeps his on you. “Come on, Y/n,” Bucky mutters as the cool breeze hits his face, feeling you move in his arms and bury your face into his chest.

“I’m cold,” You mumble tiredly, barely able to keep your eyes open as they droop heavily. “just five minutes.”

“No, don’t you dare,” Bucky firmly tells you as the Quinjet comes into view, the sight of worry evident in Wanda’s expression as she meets Bucky halfway, guiding him into the jet.

“What happened?” Wanda asks as Bucky places you down on the ground, reaching for the medical supplies on board with urgency, ripping out various weapons and mechanical items until he finds some form of bandages.

“She tried to save a little girl,” Bucky sighs as Wanda cradles your head, her fingers hovering over your temples as a red glow forms whilst Bucky applies pressure to the wounds, watching as they soak instantly from your blood. “we, we have to go, now!” He yells to Wanda who barely flinches.

“Tony? Can you handle this?” Wanda questions through the comms.

“Just get Y/n back, we’ll sort this out.” Tony responds, trying to hide the fear in his tone for the younger Avenger, one he can’t help but view as a daughter in many respects.

“She wants to be strong,” Wanda whispers, hearing your thoughts as you drift further and further away from consciousness. “but she’s scared. I, I can hear his voice.” Wanda trails off as Bucky tenses up, knowing exactly who she means.

Bucky can feel his heartbreaking as the Quinjet flies through the air at an accelerated rate back to the compound.

“Oh Y/n, you’ve got so much coming for you,” Bucky takes one of your hands in his, gripping it tightly as he focuses on your face, the light disappearing from your complexion. “don’t go, not now, doll.”

Lying in your own bed, you remain in a deep sleep whilst Bucky hovers by your bedside. Ever since you were brought back and cleared, he insisted you’d feel more comfortable in your own room.

“Anything?” Wanda speaks up, peering in your doorway as your chest rises and falls rhythmically. Bucky shakes his head in response, aware of Wanda approaching your bed as she perches on the edge, her fingertips dancing over your head.

Wanda quickly pulls her hand away, the red wisps disappearing as she avoids Bucky’s cold gaze. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Wanda mutters, moving your hair out of your face. “but something happened before the mission, something to do with him.” Wanda sighs. “I just, I can’t tell what it was.” She explains as Bucky keeps a straight face, unable to take his eyes off the various bruises now exposed on your skin, the cuts and scars forming alongside them.

“She’s always been agile on missions, even if she’s clumsy.” Bucky breathes out, uncrossing his arms from his chest. “But she’s careful, she’s always careful.” He repeats to himself, wondering why you’d risk yourself like that when it could’ve been avoided.

“I had to,” You mumble, your eyes now beginning to open as you look up to your two friends, forcing your lips upwards. “did I miss much?”

A chuckle escapes Wanda as she looks over to Bucky, seeing the concern in his face refusing to ease. “I’m sure Bucky will fill you in.” Wanda tells you as she touches your hand before heading to the door. “It’s good to see you awake, Y/n/n.” She smiles at you whilst Bucky slowly moves closer to your bed, his legs leaning against the frame.

“So,” You sigh, still feeling your muscles burning beneath the covers on top of you. “is everyone safe?”

Trying to hold back the scoff building, Bucky simply nods.

“Good,” You nod to yourself, a sense of relief crossing your system. “I’m glad it worked out.”

“Worked out?” Bucky snaps, noting your eyes widening as you struggle to sit upright without wincing. “No, don’t try and move,” His voice softens momentarily, forcing you to remain still. “Y/n, you think almost dying is a mission ‘working out', really?” He huffs loudly.

“Look, the hostages are safe, the team holding them was taken care of so yes, Bucky, I do think it worked out.” You bark back, your tone rising.

“God, you’re an idiot sometimes.” Bucky remarks, turning away from you as you look down at your lap.

“Max said that too,” You mumble.

Turning on his heels, Bucky focuses on you closely. “He said what?”

It was no secret Bucky wasn’t the fondest of your now ex-boyfriend, Max. He tolerated him for your sake, not wanting to lose your best friend in the midst of a relationship. But Max was never the most understanding, and this is just another reason Bucky mentally adds to his list of why Max was a lousy boyfriend.

“Forget it,” You brush it off, refusing to meet Bucky’s cold blue eyes. “it was nothing, I went to get the last of my things the other night and, and we had an argument.”

“What did he say to you, Y/n?” Bucky persists as he now sits down on your bed, his hands remaining in his own lap as you play with yours, fidgeting.

“He said I’m too fragile for my own good,” You admit, hearing his bitter words ringing through your head. “that I’m weak, and I shouldn’t even be an Avenger.”

Bucky can feel his blood boiling, the list in his mind becoming mere shreds of paper as he imagines what he’ll do to Max if he sees him again.

“And maybe I am, he said I’m broken goods,” You add, lifting the sheets from your body to reveal the stitching in your skin where the bullet was. “what difference does one more scar make?”

“You don’t believe him, do you doll?” Bucky asks sadly, afraid he already knows the answer.

Your prolonged silence only causes Bucky’s heart to sink further into his chest.

“Y/n,” Bucky speaks up, taking your hand in his. “you’re not broken goods, you’re not made of glass that shatters easily.” He explains, unable to meet your teary gaze. “You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I’ve ever met, you’re not fragile, doll.” He rubs his thumb over the top of your hand, avoiding the fresh scuffs lacing your knuckles.

“You think so?” You whisper as tears fall down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Now catching your eyes, Bucky smiles softly. “I do, Y/n.” He admits, watching you struggle to shuffle in your bed as you force back a whimper.

Patting the spot beside you, Bucky raises a brow. “Will you stay, Bucky, please?” You whisper, too afraid of your own voice.

“As long as you know you’re worth so much more than him, Y/n, okay?” Bucky asks as he lifts his arm up, wrapping it around you as you curl up into his chest. “You deserve the world, doll.” He mutters, feeling your grip around his waist loosen as your breathing softens. “And I promise to show you someday.”

Bucky brushes his lips across your forehead as light snores leave your lips, unaware of the promise Bucky has made to you and intends to keep it.

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