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chaethewriter · 1 year

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You're dead to me [8]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, heavy angst, fluff, I'm sorry if this sucks, barely proofread.

Word count: 7k

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"She's beautiful.." Jake held you in his arms as he gazed at your sleeping face. You were born just an hour ago. The birth was hard, but he knew your mom was strong. She would make it. Jake Sully was sitting in an empty hospital room with you in his arms as nurses walked in and out to check up on you. You were breathing and healthy, the news making him exhale in relief. He was wondering why you were separated from your mom for so long though, shouldn't you be in her arms instead of his? He knew your mother had a hard time during her labor, but this shouldn't take too long right? You opened your mouth as you whined silently, your tiny fragile hands reaching in the air. He immediately brought his face towards yours, until your soft fingertips touched his face. You immediately calmed down at the warmth, tiny breaths leaving your lips. He was enjoying the peaceful silence with you in his arms, keeping his face close to your fingertips to touch. A doctor ended this silence, as she barged in with a map in her hands. She cleared her throat, making Jake Sully stop his chuckles as he sat up straight in his wheelchair, "is she okay, doc?" He asked with worry plastered on his face as he talked about your mother. The doctor shook her head, "I'm sorry for your loss, sir." His eyes widen in shock, "what? What do you mean?" He held you tighter in his arms, bringing you closer to him as you snuggled into his warmth. "She didn't make it, we tried everything. I'm sorry for your loss." She repeated and he felt his heart drop. He promised your father to keep your mother safe and he failed in doing just that. "Other relatives in the system are unconfirmed, so we will put her up for adop-" Jake cut the doctor off, not daring her to even finish that sentence, "no!" His sudden booming face made you sob, wondering why the familiar warmth holding onto you was feeling so distressed. "No no baby, I'm sorry. Don't cry baby." He shushed you as he pressed his forehead against yours, rocking you back and forth, "I'm sorry for scaring you, baby. There is nothing." He pressed a kiss against your cheek and soon your wailing stopped. The doctor gave Jake a knowing look, writing something down on the papers in her hand, "did you want to adopt her?" She didn't even need to ask to know the answer to that. Jake's gaze moved from your small figure toward the doctor in front of him, "Yes please, I can't lose her." He gently stroked your baby hair as he shushed you to sleep. "I want you to bear in mind that it will be a long process before she can permanently live with you." But he didn't mind, as long as he could have you, he would be alright with that. "That's okay, I'm prepared for that." She handed him the pen as she held the map out in front of him, to sign that he would like to adopt you. Jake didn't need to think twice, as he took the pen in his grip and signed at the bottom of the paper, all while supporting your fragile little head. "Can I also ask for the confirmed name? We never got to ask the mother, unfortunately." Jake looked back at your adorable sleeping figure, your grip on his finger, definitely not planning to let him go. He thought back to the conversations he had with your father, then your mother. He looked back at the doctor with a determined smile,

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

You, Seb, and Raja were separated into different groups as well as Neteyam and Lo'ak. You were so disappointed when it happened, but you couldn't show or voice that. This was a serious mission after all. The three of you had different skills, hence you were placed into different groups as well. Lo'ak and Neteyam were told to be spotters, flying on their Ikrans to spot any danger lurking around the corners. You were happy for them to be taking part in this raid, especially for Lo'ak since it had been a struggle for him to be a part of hunts and raids like these. After the meeting, everyone immediately went off to train and prepare for the big raid in a few days. Seb and Raja went to greet you before they also went off to work on the preparations, which included teaching the Na'vi. Raja was amazing in hand-to-hand combat and Seb's skills lay in the bows and guns. They would definitely be alright in their hands. Neteyam and Lo'ak still stood with you as you zoned out, thinking about why Eywa would do this to you. "Sissy?" Neteyam crouched down to your height as he poked your sides with his tail, wrapping it around your arm right after to shake you out of your thoughts. You felt a tug at your arm, a soft touch to your skin, and you flinched towards Neteyam, "sorry, yes?" Lo'ak tilted his head in worry, "big sis, are you okay?" Before you could answer his question, Neteyam chimed in, "is it about dad?" You sighed at the mention of your father, nodding your head to confirm their suspicions, "yeah actually. What is eywa planning with this?" You didn't want to voice it, but you felt nervous. These past few days you tried your best to have the minimum contact with him, but now you were basically forced to spend your days with him until the raid. "Don't question Eywa's ways, sissy. I'm sure she has a reason to." He wrapped his arm around you, making you flush at the affection. You were used to hugging yes, especially because of Raja, but this was your baby brother. Your family by blood. You felt so comforted. "He's right big sis, and I mean, if you make up with him, evetually, we can have you with us!", Lo'ak soon joined the hug. It was a little awkward since you were much shorter than your brothers, but that didn't matter to you at all. They were your precious baby brothers. You pulled Lo'ak down to press a kiss on his cheek, turning to Neteyam to do the same to him, "my two favorite warriors!" They both flushed at your affection, their tails swished from left to right as their ears perked up. They got affection from their big sister, not you as a warrior, but their sissy. Something both of them definitely needed during these harsh times with Neteyam needing to be the perfect son and Lo'ak feeling out of place.

An awkward-sounding cough was heard behind you, so you pulled away from the hug and turned around to come face-to-face with your dad. Neteyam immediately took a step back, meanwhile Lo'ak plucked on his loincloth, ignoring his father's gaze. "Lo'ak, Neteyam. Go see your mother." Neteyam's expression immediately faltered as well as Lo'ak's. The only things they were told were orders or when they fucked up. "Yes sir" the two of them said as their ears pressed against their heads, their tails between their legs, showing that they were visibly upset. You frowned at his words, "Don't talk to my brothers like that," you turned your back to him and faced your baby brothers. You held both of their hands as you caressed them, "I will see you later, okay? I'll visit you, or you come to me whatever you prefer." The two of them nodded, their smiles reaching their eyes once again thanks to your kind words. They greeted you with shy smiles before heading the opposite way. Jake's gaze faltered. He wanted to spend time with you to reconcile, but he wasn't off to a great start. Not at all. "(Y/N), I really want to make this right between us. I want us to reconcile and have that father-daughter relationship we used to have." You just listened to his words, staring right into his eyes. "So, please give me a chance to make this right. Please give me a chance to take me back as your father." He stepped closer to you, sitting on his knees and taking your hands in his. You pursed your lips, something you have been doing a lot these past few days. You saw the genuineness in his eyes and heard it in his voice. You almost felt bad. Almost. "I'm on your team, so we might as well talk about the mission, right?" Your tone was neutral as you spoke, but Jake knew that you had just given him his chance. Bad blood in the team during a mission never was good, it could lead to defeat. That's what you told yourself, but was that really the main reason you wanted to spend time with him? A bright smile made its way on Jake's face as he gave your hands one more squeeze, pulling away to give you some space. "Thank you, thank you so much, let's get to one of the labs for your comfort?" You nodded your head, "that would be nice yes." You didn't mind waiting for him, because he would most likely follow you. And definitely not to your surprise, he did.

The two of you headed to one of the labs at high camp instead of the one in the forest meant for you, Seb and Raja to stay at. The lab was in the forest so that you could keep watch on anything weird that could happen and alert high camp in case. But now you couldn't bother to head that way. One, you were lazy. Two, it's easier to get to this lab. Three, literally the same reason as the first two reasons. A better reason could be that both Seb and Raja needed the lab to run in and out of while teaching. You went to one of the labs at the back, hoping that that one would be empty. Once you reached the entrance, you twisted the lock open and fortunately the lights were off, indicating no one was inside to disturb you. Jake held the door open for you as you walked in, taking your mask off and hanging it at your hip. He stepped in after you and took one of the oxygen masks off the wall, hanging the cord around his neck and immediately bringing the mask to his face to take a whiff of the Pandorean air. You opened the second door and stepped inside the lab, clicking a few buttons that made the lights and screens turn on. You stepped towards the table right in the middle of the lab, putting your weapons down for you to sit comfortably on the chair. You pulled the tablet from under the table and clicked the button on the right to turn it on, dragging the screen towards the table to make it appear on the flat metal. Your father followed right after you, looming over your body from behind. He rested his forearms against the table, next to your figure, and took a step back to slightly bend over to meet your gaze. With your finger, you drew a line on the tablet, drawing the path the transport would take. At the same time, a line identical to the one you drew also appeared on the metal table. "I would like to offer you my plan, if you don't mind?" With your mask off, your entire face was visible for Jake Sully to see. Finally, he had a chance to see what emotions you were feeling. "Of course, go ahead babygirl." The nickname felt so natural to him as it left his lips to the point he couldn't stop calling you that even if he had a gun pointed at his head. You would always be his babygirl, his dearest. Your eyes slightly widened at the nickname. You thought he would stop calling you that after you full-on ignored his feelings and dedication, but he didn't and you felt your heart flutter. You started explaining your strategy, drawing different lines and notes on the map. You sometimes muttered to yourself, speaking to yourself and it made Jake slightly teary-eyed. It sounded awfully close to the babbling you used to do as a little kid when you were excited or concentrated. Instead of the warrior that you were, he saw his little girl in front of him, brows furrowed and muttering to herself. He could listen to you all day, whether it was important or the stupidest story. "Are you even listening?" You frowned at him as you stopped with what you were doing, slightly hurt at the fact he wasn't even listening to you as you spoke, even though you gave him a chance. "Whatever." You stood up from your seat, visibly hurt as you got ready to leave, but your father gripped your hand. The touch was gentle, "I listened. I listened to every word you said. You just didn't change. The way you muttered to yourself, you did that when you were a kid. Babbling as you were concentrating." You tilted your head to the side, still not believing a word he said. Jake Sully knew that you didn't want his words, but his action. So he showed you, by re-explaining everything you told him, the exact words you used and pointing at the exact lines and notes as he did. You couldn't help but smile at his action, feeling giddy at the fact he actually listened to every word you told him. Jake watched as you smiled, cheering inside his head as he finally made you smile.

He finally knew what to do.

It soon reached eclipse and you realized you were longer with your father than you expected it to be. What you thought would only take an hour, turned out to take an entire day. The two of you talked about the past approaches as front field, as well as the Na'vi on the direhorses. You also explained what would be best for Raja and Seb to do: Raja with the direhorses and Seb shooting from midair. Meanwhile you came to the conclusion you would be best with Jake on his Ikran, attacking the helicopters. You didn't want to say it out loud, but you actually had a lot of fun. It felt like a bonding moment, not really on the father-daughter scale, but slow steps. Jake also felt like he was doing a great job. It was a slow progress, but he understood. For you, he would wait for decades. "It's getting late, where are you staying?" There was Jake Sully's father instinct. Who could you fool, he always had that instinct, from the moment he met you. "I promised to meet up with Lo'ak and Teyam, after that I will head to the forest." He shook his head, his hand on your shoulder, "You're not going alone, especially not with those knuckleheads. Tell me when you're ready to head home. I'll bring you." His hand traveled to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb before he left the lab. He knew he had to leave for now, to give you some space. But outside, Jake Sully couldn't help but jump in the air as he balled his fists, throwing his arms in the air as he celebrated his first win, his first step into making things better with you. You could hear him from the inside, shaking your head as you couldn't help but smile. Maybe it was time to give him a chance.

"Waaah!! Papa!!!" You frantically wailed as you were on the mossy ground, your dress covered in dirt and your knees scraped, covered in blood and dirt. Jake Sully didn't think for another second as he wheeled toward you, his expression laced in worry and pain to see his little princess in pain. "Baby!! Princess I'm here, I'm here." He bent over to pick you off the ground, placing you on his lap as you continued to cry. The two of you were at a playground. You were happily playing, running from the slide to the swings and the monkey bars. When you were about to rush towards the swings, you tripped over a rock and fell to the dirt covered ground, making you wail loudly. He inspected your face first, then your hands and arms and lastly your legs. Your eyes were teary as you spoke, nose running, "papa it hurts." You sobbed as your grip on his shirt tightened. He took your bag with one hand as his other was rubbing soothing circles on your back, "papa is going to take care of it, alright? Papa will help you." You could only nod as you rubbed your teary eye with one of your hands. He opened your adorable bag, pulling a first aid kit out. He may be terrible at taking care of himself, but taking care of you is what he CAN do. "Babygirl, this is going to hurt. I need to clean your wounds, because I can't let your wounds be dirty. You understand that right?" You just nodded in response. You were a strong girl, you can listen to your daddy. He took a tissue and the small bottle of desinfectant in his hand, "squeeze daddy if you have to, okay?" He opened the bottle and carefully squirted the alcohol on your knees, making you sob. The tears rolled down your cheeks as you squeezed your father's arms. But you didn't scream, you were a strong girl. He watched how the dirt removed itself from your wounds and how your skin pulsed at the chemical reaction. He proceeded to carefully tap your knees dry, all while you silently sniffed. He pressed a kiss onto your cheek and finally put a plaster in each wound. You smiled at the plaster. It was a plaster of your favorite cartoon character. He pressed his lips against yours, drying your tears with a tissue, "there you go, good girl." You thanked him with another kiss, "i love you papa!!"

"Goodmorning sissy" Neteyam greeted you at the opening of the cave. You beamed at him as Lo'ak helped you off his Ikran. The morning after your bonding with your father, you didn't expect to be woken up so early. You opened the door to the lab as Lo'ak stood there with a grin on his face, "You're coming with me." You couldn't protest as he just picked you up and put you on his Ikran, heading off to god knows where. You could here Seb screaming after you as you disappeared into the air. Something along the lines of: "see you soon!" You grinned at Neteyam as you pulled at his waist, forcing him to get down so that you could pull him in a hug, "Goodmorning mighty warrior." Lo'ak sent his Ikran away as he walked up to the two of you, leaning on your head with his elbow, "so what's the plan today?" You frowned at his gesture and smacked his arm away, "you were the one that brought me here so early in the morning! You can tell me what I am supposed to do here so early!" You grumbled, you could have slept in and taken your sweet time to get ready, but Lo'ak just had to rush you as he was too excited to function. He pouted at you in return, "sorry big sis, I was too excited." He smiled sheepishly at you as he poked your cheek. "Come have breakfast with us, sissy." Before you could answer, Neteyam had already grabbed onto your hand and pulling you to their home, "Neteyam wait! I don't want to intrude!" You tried to pull away from his grip. You didn't belong to their family, it was their fortress. Not yours. But Neteyam didn't listen to you. Lo'ak followed behind excitedly, "this is gonna be so fun! You won't intrude big sis, we will finally have breakfast as a complete family!"

"Oel Ngati Kameie, I'm sorry to intrude." The words leave your lips as you entered their home, feeling slightly ashamed as you did so. Neteyam pulled you inside as he faced his parents, who were seated at the table in surprise at your arrival. Jake Sully immediately felt warm inside at the sight of his oldest daughter, "come sit, babygirl." He scooted over, now sitting on the head of the table. This way seven people could fit the table. Again, Neteyam pulled you toward the table, forcing you to sit down as he took a seat next to you. Lo'ak sat down in front of you as he grinned at you. Next to him sat Kiri and Tuk. Then lastly Neytiri, who sat next to Neteyam and in front of Tuk. Jake looked at his family with a proud look on his face. You were sitting right next to him and you still looked a little nervous. "Hii (Y/N)!!" Tuk's voice boomed through the pod as she yelled in excitement. "Tuk, behave! Goodmorning sis." You smiled at Kiri and Tuk at the end of the table, greeting them in return. Neteyam wrapped his arm around you with a grin, "we have fruits right?" It was more of a global question that he asked, waiting for a response from someone that knew. "Yes, we do." Neytiri got up from her seat to get the food, Kiri following after her mother to help. You wanted to get up to give a helping hand as well, but Jake stopped you by putting his hand on yours, holding it affectionately, "It's okay baby, sit." To get everyone talking, Lo'ak chirped in with a question, "tell us about your training on earth please!" His eyes were sparkling as he sat across from you, his hand on the table as he waited for your answer. Before you could answer, Jake leaned his elbow on the table as he rested his chin on his palm, "I would also like to know, if you don't mind telling that is."

You smiled at your father, knowing he couldn't even see it. But your eyes told it all to him. Once Neytiri and your sisters returned, they set the food down on the table: sturmbeest meat and small portions of different fruits. You didn't want to take anything, as you already intruded on their family bonding moment, but Neytiri insisted as she filled you a portion of fruits and demanding you to eat them, since you couldn't eat the Na'vi meat. You thanked her with a grateful nod, before you cleared your throat, "well Lo'ak. It all started because of my last name." You glanced at your father and your gaze never left him as you spoke. You told them how you were founded, the training you went through, the people you met, your achievements, all that. Tuk was so interested that she kept asking questions, Neytiri telling her to not talk with her mouthful. Your father in the meantime couldn't stop staring at you, the way you spoke and excitedly told them about your experiences. He then realized how much he had actually missed of your life. His food was already cold when you finished talking, untouched as his focus was on you.

After breakfast, your father needed you with him again. Much to your disappointment, you greeted your siblings and Neytiri on the way out. "Where are we going?" He grinned at you in return as he grabbed your hand, "You'll see." He led you to where the Ikrans were stalled and your eyes sparkled. Still holding onto your hand, he got his own Ikran out of his stall. Your gaze moved from the Ikrans towards your hands intertwined. You didn't feel an insane amount of resentment for him anymore, so you could allow it. He did try his best like he said he would, after all. "This is bob, bob this is (Y/N), my daughter." You facepalmed at the name. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, "bob?" It was more of an 'are you serious' tone rather than a question. "Yes, bob." He brought his free hand towards the Ikran's face, petting his snout with a proud smile. "And you named me?" Your reply was sassy and Jake couldn't help but pinch your cheek through your mask with the hand that used to be holding yours, "Don't be like that missy, we are going on a flight."

Your father helped you settle down on his Ikran, but you insisted that you could do it on your own, denying his help completely. Disappointed, he then proceeded to take a seat behind you, "do you know where to hold?" He moved closer towards your small body, the back of your head hitting his torso for your comfort. "Yes, my first ride was with Teyam, I'll be fine yes." You held onto the reins as you tried your best not to lean into your father's warmth, but he beat you to it as he wrapped one arm around your torso, the other holding onto the reins. Jake couldn't deny that he felt jealous of his own sons, their relationship was tense ever since he saw how happy you were with them. He was being incredibly childish, but he couldn't help it. "You and he are very close, aren't you?" He grumbled as he made Bob walk towards the entrance of the cave. The jealousy was obvious as it was laced in his tone. It actually made you chuckle, seeing your father all grumpy like that. "Yes, we sure are." You decided to see how far you could push him. "But you're my daughter." He grumbled again, pulling onto the reins, making Bob take off into the sky. The impact made you press against your father, a screech of excitement leaving your lips. Once you calmed down, you turned to answer, "you gotta work for my respect, papa." And his eyes sparkled at that nickname.

The next few days, you mostly spend them with your father. Mostly planning the raid and working on your relationship, kinda. You never forgot about your siblings though: flying with Neteyam, exploring with Lo'ak, making flower crowns with Tuk and lying in the grass with Kiri. Your father and you have been growing closer bit by bit. You weren't fully there though, not ready to be all giddy with him just yet. Yet during these days of spending your time with him, the guilt was eating you from the inside. The way your father was so focused on reconciling with you to the point he sent his children away whenever they wanted to ask him something or show him their achievements. You went so long without a father figure. You didn't want your siblings to go through that as well. You started wondering, you weren't even his child by blood, did you deserve his attention? He was always busy being with you, instead of being with his kids. An example is that he taught you how to fish, such a dad thing to do. Even though it wasn't the usual fishing you knew on earth, it was still fun with the bow and arrow. You would much rather hit your enemies close with your katana than from far away like that. It was still enjoyable either way. The two of you also decided to practice your strategy: you jumping off his Ikran, hitting the target and your father catching you midair. He thought you were insane when you told him so, scolding you like a father would. But you reminded him that you were a trained warrior, that you trained for this day and that he couldn't take that away from you. He eventually gave in, hence you practiced a lot with him. Whatever happened, you just knew he would always catch you.

"Papa? Papa dead?" Your teary-eyed face shook your dad's body, who was on your couch breathing heavily. "Baby, I'm okay." Jake was sweating profusely as he saw everything blurry, but he always managed to try and keep you from worrying. You touched his sticky face, babbling as you tried to keep him awake, "daddy no die!" You got up from the floor as you ran and disappeared into the kitchen. You came back with the first aid kit box and a bottle of water. You put everything on the floor as you sobbed, "papa help!" You took a plaster, removing the foil to stick the sticky part on his arm, "papa please!!" Your pleads kept him from falling asleep, as he squinted his eyes to focus on his surroundings. "Baby, the blue striped box." He mumbled, knowing that the box filled with paracetamol looked like that. You frantically looked through the stuff. Fortunately, you were good with colors and figures. You took the box in your hand and showed it to him, "papa what now?" He then proceeded to give you instructions while barely holding onto his sanity. He felt so lightheaded. He's so lucky that you're a smart little girl. You popped a pill out of the pack and poked it at his bottom lip, "papa open!!" He slighty sat up and you held onto his arm for support. Not that it did anything, but you caring for him was more than enough. Your father opened his mouth as you put it on his tongue. You then brought the glass closer to his lips, "papa sip!" He slightly smiled at your caring manner and opened his mouth, gulping the water down as the pill slid down his throat. You then climbed to lay down on his torso, your arms around his neck as you kissed his chin, "papa better?" He didn't know if the medicine is already working or not, but with you on his chest, he immediately felt sober and healthy.

It was the day of the raid. Your first official mission on Pandora, your years of training not going in vain. You were so snappy since you realized your insecurities, the guiltier you felt the more frustrated you grew. You didn't dare voice them to anyone. You couldn't complain, you didn't have the right to complain. You were the source of the family's imbalance. Yet, you felt like you were being so selfish. You wanted to spend time with your father so badly after a decade of not seeing him and you couldn't stay away from your siblings, they were your dearest. Again, you were with Neteyam at high camp, somewhere at the side of the cave. The two of you were attached to the hip. He was cuddling right at you, burying his face in your shoulder, ears pressed to his head, "dad is being so hard on us." He mumbled as you pressed him against you, rubbing his ears with his fingertips. Lo'ak was god knows where, probably making a mess just for Neteyam to clean it up again. "I know Teyam, I'm sorry." You didn't know why you were apologizing to him. Deep inside you knew why, you were breaking their relationship by just existing. You thought that it was bullshit that someone could be a bother by just existing, but you were that person. Neteyam ignored your apology, since he didn't understand what you meant, as he hugged you tighter against him, silent sniffs leaving his nose, "I'm so tired, but I don't want to disappoint." Your eyes soften at his words, shaking your head as you scratched his ears, "You don't disappoint baby bro, I'm so proud of you. I look up to you so much, you're such a strong young boy with a strong heart." He flushed at your compliments, his tail swaying from left to right as you held him in his arms, "thank you sissy." Neteyam has been the clingiest with you so far, always looking for you like a lost cat with his tail between his legs. From the start he always held his worries to himself and never complained about anything, sucking everything up that was thrown at him. Now that he had a big sister, he wouldn't dare to miss the opportunity to be the young fragile sibling for once. This was also why you didn't dare voice your insecurities and thoughts: he needed a place to spill his heart out too without worrying about anything after. "Neteyam!" Neteyam immediately pulled away from your hug, getting off the ground with his tail between his legs, "yes sir." Jake stood in front of the two of you with his arms crossed, "I didn't expect you to slack off. Go fetch your brother." Neteyam pursed his lips as he firmly nodded his head, "yes sir." Without looking back at you, he headed the other way, his walk confident yet you knew it was a facade. "You're very hard on him." You watched your dad with a frown, anger taking your body over as this terrible behavior towards his children by blood got to you mixed with your mixed feelings. "I'm their father, it's my job." Jake's expression didn't falter at all, his face as neutral as ever whenever he spoke to his sons. That just made you even angrier, "this is a family, not your marine squad that you can only go to for orders for christs sake!" You balled your fists as you walked past him, your shoulder hitting his arm on the way. He then proceeded to grab your wrist, obviously upset at your change of behavior, "they need me to go hard on them to get strong, (Y/N)." You harshly pulled your hand away from him, "No Toruk Makto, they need their dad." And you walked away without looking back. After the whole ordeal, Neytiri emerged from the shadows, her expression upset as she listened from the moment Neteyam spoke from the bottom of his heart to you blowing up on your father, "she's right you know. You are very hard on them. They're your sons, not your army." Yet Jake Sully didn't hear her, as his mind was only on you, suddenly feeling like all the efforts on his progression were thrown out of the window and back at zero.

The ride to where the raid would take place was awkward. Your father kept trying to make small talk with you as you stood behind him, your hand gripping on his shoulder while your other held your katana, but you didn't reply to any of his questions or words. You were so furious at him for still treating your siblings like that while trying to make up with you. You didn't want it to look like he favored you, because it really did look like that: neglecting his children by blood, because he is trying to reconcile with the girl that only shares his last name. You started second guessing your worth, you didn't belong to his family. You were his past after all and he settled down. You were only intruding at this point, intruding in their family. You shouldn't have ever revealed yourself. "Babygirl please," Jake was desperate as he spoke. He trusted, no, he believed that the raid would be successful, but one should always be prepared for bad outcomes and he didn't want it to end like this, was it to be a bad outcome. "Jake, stop." The way his name rolled off your lips hurt. You never called him by his name before, not even when the two of you met. "Let's talk, please." His grip on the reins tightened. He felt sick to his stomach the closer they got to the transported goods. He didn't know why, but he felt his stomach churn. Something inside him told him to talk to you, now. "If this is about Neteyam then-" "Later." You cut him off. You couldn't talk about how you felt, not now. Not when you were about to enter a warzone. You almost chuckled at the mention of your little brother. You wished it was only about him. If it was, then you could have found an easier way to fix this mess. But this was also about you. You stole their dad and husband away for the past few days. You worsened the relationship between a father and his sons. You're ripping the family apart by intruding, you don't belong in that family. You don't belong. You bit your lip so hard until you tasted the metallic on your tastebuds. Meanwhile Jake Sully sighed in frustration, knowing he had to push this conversation back to after the raid.

If everything went well that is.

"Attack!!!" Jake Sully pulled at the reins, rushing over towards a helicopter that turned around. The train that transported the goods just exploded and went up into flames, which was the queue for the direhorses to emerge from the shadows. Your father got extremely close to the helicopter, flying sideways. Just as the helicopter was about to point its guns at you, you jumped off Bob, right onto the glass as you plunged your sharpened katana through the glass. It hit the man into the vehicle, killing him instantly. Before the helicopter could explode you jumped into the air, away from the explosion. You didn't feel the slightest bit surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist. Your father moved his grip to your wrist, as you were much lighter than a Na'vi this tactic worked perfectly with you. "I'm going to throw you, okay?" You just nodded in response as he swung his arm and threw you like you were a feather, right into the window of a helicopter. You already held your katana in front of you, hitting the human on impact as he was knocked out. You were hanging onto the helicopter that slowly descended. You were waiting for your father to fly right under you to catch you, but you didn't notice that a helicopter was pointing its guns right at you, obviously seeing you as a threat. "(Y/N)!!" Jake's voiced cracked as he screamed. He couldn't load his gun in time, or stop the helicopter in time. Even if he did try to hit it, you would already be hit. Then an arrow flew through the air at an inhumane speed, shooting the helicopter down. Jake quickly flew your way as he grabbed you from the descending helicopter, with your katana and all. You looked to where the arrow came from and saw a familiar Ikran. It was Neytiri. You silently thanked her in your head, hoping that your gratefulness would reach her. You intruded her family, yet she still decided to save you. "Are you okay?!" Jake put you in front of you, right on his lap as he checked your outfit for any deep cuts. You slightly pushed him away, "I'm fine, really." You tried your best to calm him down. He was the Olo'eyktan after all, he needed to keep watch at his people, not only worry about you. You were a big girl after all, a warrior. Yet in his eyes, you were still his little girl. You looked around the sky, searching for your baby bro's. You knew they were spotters, so they should be somewhere here. Then you saw it, two familiar Ikrans descending to the ground. You squinted your eyes as you tried to see who the two figures were. That's when it hit you, you're baby bro's. "Jake land!!!" You frantically screamed as you tried to get off his Ikran. "What is up w-" "LAND FOR CHRISTS SAKE!!" You needed to get them out of there, no matter what. Jake just obeys. He needed to get down there anyway to see how the ground teams were doing. He would keep you in his sight though. You immediately jumped off his Ikran, sprinting through the swarm of Na'vi as you ran towards your babies. You ran past Raja, who looked at you with a confused expression as she noticed you. This wasn't your position, so she felt flabbergasted as you never disobeyed orders, but she couldn't let that linger into her mind as she focused on her task. "Lo'ak!! Neteyam!" You noticed how a Na'vi passed a gun to Lo'ak. He waved it around in the air, showing it off to Neteyam. You finally got to them, grabbing it out of his hands, "what are you doing here?!? Are you okay?!?" You frantically looked for any injuries, but Lo'ak just ruffled your hair as he took the gun back, "we are okay silly sis!!" "No Lo'ak! We need to get back to the sky! We are spotters!"

"Watch out!! Enemies incoming!!!" A Na'vi yelled the words through the air and a huge helicopter turned the corner, loaded with missiles and all. You grabbed your brothers' hands and pulled them with you, "we gotta run! Run!!" Even though your legs were short, your stamina was amazing. Fortunately, you could keep up with your much taller brothers that way. Jake watched the scene unfold from afar and he didn't wait a second to sprint towards you, pushing everyone that was in his way to the side. "Missile!!!" Someone screamed as a ton of missiles were shot their way. You looked behind you as your eyes widened, one was directly coming your way. And it would hurt your siblings. Without thinking, you pushed your brothers away, making them fall and roll over. You prayed to Eywa to keep them safe as you braced for impact.

Screams.

Blacked out.

Nothing.

"Babygirl!! Babygirl!!" Jake took your limp body in his arms. The tears were rolling down his cheeks as he watched your lifeless body, your eyes rolled back to your skull, "Eywa please, don't do this to me. I'm so sorry for my sins. I'm so sorry for everything. Please don't take her away from me, please." Yet his pleas weren't answered as he cried in your bleeding chest.

Nothing is what it seems.

Thank you so much for reading, this is so long what the hell. I was lowkey insecure about posting this one. I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you thought! <3 THIS IS NOT THE END.

Taglist in the comments!!

#dad!jake sully #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam #sully family #sully family x reader #dad! jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam x reader

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hobicakess · 2 months

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear” choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: 2/22/22

summary: carmy receives bad news that changes his life forever, while you're relationship with him comes to a head. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only), death, grief, mentions of suicide, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language

word count: 5.5k

listen to: hurting kind - del water gap | robbers - the 1975 | hostages - the howl & the hum

a/n: i need therapy after writing this. so sorry bbs love you all. ok but fr, i thought that i was going to write a smut scene that was not going to be hot bc we know it's canon that carmy does not fuck and then it ended up being really hot and i'm once again asking for therapy.

read: chapter three

2/22/22

Something happened. Can you come over?

That’s all the text said. It’s all that needed to be said for you to drop everything you were doing and hop on the subway. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you imagine every single worst case scenario possible. Carmy had given you little context in regards to what this was about, and you almost regret not asking as your mind runs rampant with possibilities. Not that he would’ve given you an answer. Something about him seemed different. He’d never sent that urgent of a text.

Not even when the restaurant was slammed and he needed you to come in on your day off.

Something happened.

The words continue to echo in your head until you reach him.

You're at Carmy’s doorstep faster than you ever thought your feet could carry you, and when he opens the door for you, your heart breaks. He’s wrecked. His face is a flushed red, though you don’t think it’s from crying, and he looks like he hasn’t washed his fuckin’ hair in days. You take in his somber expression, like all of the joy he’s ever experienced has been sucked out of him.

Carmy steps aside, allowing him into your apartment.

He mumbles something you can barely hear, gesturing towards the couch, so you follow him, taking a seat on the crappy couch you’ve come to love. He stares at the floor, his eyes cold and empty, as you sit in silence.

It’s you who breaks it, bursting at the seams with anxiety.

“Carmy, you’re scaring me,” you say softly.

He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor as he licks his lips, swallowing as he opens his mouth to say something. It’s a few moments later that he��s finally able to put two words together to tell you what happened.

“It’s Michael,” is all he manages to get out. You can hear the break in his voice when he utters Michael’s name, and you’re terrified of what he’s going to say next.

“Your brother?” you ask, secretly hoping he won’t say yes.

You feel your stomach drop.

Carmy nods slowly, “Yeah.”

He takes a few beats before saying anything else, his head swimming. On one hand it doesn’t feel real, and if he doesn’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t be. There’s a part of him that still thinks this is some cruel, sick joke that Mikey cooked up, just to fuck with him.

But he knows it’s real. He could hear it in the way that Sugar’s voice broke on the phone. He could hear it in the way that Richie practically screamed at him to stop being such a fuckin’ cuck and come home. He knows it’s real, because for the first time in years, his mom’s called him.

Must be Sugar or something calling from her phone for her…. ‘S gotta be, he thinks to himself.

“He’s-,” Carmy starts, before stopping again. Carmy looks away, in the opposite direction of you, focusing his eyes on something outside of the window.

He can’t look at you because if he looks at you, he might lose it.

“He’s dead.”

“Oh Carmy,” you gasp, your heart wrenching in your chest as the words leave his mouth. You reach out to touch him, but he flinches, pulling away from you.

“No,” is all he says through gritted teeth.

You cannot touch me. You cannot make me feel better about this because I’ll have to feel worse about this, is what he wants to say.

“The fuckin’ asshole shot himself on the State Street bridge. I don’t-, you don’t get to make me feel better about this,” he snaps, his tone almost a warning.

“Fuck,” you sigh, sitting up straight and leaning towards him. He may not want your comforts, so you’re going to give your presence. He had asked you to come over after all, right? “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, coldly.

His response is jarring, leaving an unsavory taste in your mouth. You understand that he’s just gotten the most unimaginable news, but it doesn’t sit right with that he’s taking it out on you either. Is that why he invited you over? To be his punching bag? Instead, you decide to pivot to crisis control-mode, hoping to remedy some of the animosity he’s harboring.

“Okay, well, I’ll call Kate and let her know that you can’t come in tonight, if that helps. Just so you don’t have to-,” you suggest.

“Why would you fucking do that?” he yells, snapping his head towards you as he finally turns towards you. You can see it in his eyes: how angry and devastated he is – at Michael, at what happened – and even though you know it’s not personal, it stings all the same.

“Because!” you shout back. “Carmy, you just found out-... something terrible. I just don’t think you should-.”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my mom and you’re not my girlfriend so,” he’s quick to retort, rebelliously.

You scoff at him, shaking your head in utter disbelief.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Carmen,” you cut him off with a yell. You know he’s hurting, but this is where you draw the line. “I’m well aware that I am not your girlfriend, but I am your friend, and I care about you.”

You’re right.

He knows you’re right.

He knows he’s being a dick, but it’s like he can’t stop his own rage from spilling out sideways as yells:

“Well, if you don’t want to be here, then get out!”

“Stop it!” you cut him off, venom in your voice.

Carmy looks at you, his bloodshot eyes wide with utter despair.

“You called me, Carmy. So shut the fuck up and let me fucking help,” you lower your voice, bringing the confrontation between the two of you back down.

With his eyes fixed to the floor, his mind zoning out to numb the pain, he manages to get out, “I don’t want to-. I need to go to work tonight.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you plead softly, yet firmly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to make that decision,” he dismisses.

He’s right. You don’t.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, giving in.

It’s a horrible idea – for Carmy to go into the restaurant – but you know he’s going to do it anyway.

“What can I do for you in the meantime?”

“I just-, I don’t think I can be alone right now,” he mumbles, averting his eyes once again. “Can you just like… sit here with me? Till we gotta go?”

“Yeah.”

The afternoon passes slowly, and you feel like the both of you have been lit on fire – only a matter of time before you burn his whole place down. As you’re getting ready to leave, Carmy sprints into the bathroom, emptying what little contents he has in his stomach into the toilet. You’d been aware that he’d been having some trouble – throwing up before work – but he’d refused to see a doctor. Another decision he’d made clear wasn’t yours to make. What you weren’t aware of was that it had gotten this bad.

Like you’d imagined, going into the restaurant had been a mistake. It hadn’t taken long for Carmy to blow up at a line cook, mid-shift, over an undercooked duck breast. Sure, it was a big mistake, but Carmy had sent the line cook home after making a very public example of them. After the event, Tim had urged Carmy to take a break, offering to expedite for a few, while you rushed him into the walk-in.

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you chastise him.

“He’s a fucking idiot! How do you undercook a fucking-,” Carmy yells, his face twisted into a look of disgust.

“Carmy!” you shout, stopping him mid-sentence.

You both know this is not about the duck breast.

You share a moment of silence together, the cold of the walk-in leaving goosebumps on your skin. You lower your voice, a quiet and intentional demand leave your lips as you instruct:

“Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?”

He nods in response, his lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. You watch him pace a few times, before he clutches at his chest, his breathing becoming more uneven.

This is why coming in had been the worst idea ever.

“Carmy, are you o-?" you start, genuinely worried about him. You feel like your head is spinning. Carmy is losing control and all you can do is watch.

He holds out a hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you leave him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in fills your ears, as you close the door to the walk-in behind you. You feel like your heart is caught in your throat and watching him go through this is more painful than you could’ve ever imagined. You take a deep breath before returning to your station, keeping your head down for the rest of the shift.

Dinner service is pure chaos as Carmy undulates from unbroken focus to volatile and unpredictable throughout making the evening hell for the rest of you. The tension is thick, and it’s as if everyone is walking on eggshells around him, more so than normal. By the time it’s over, you insist on walking Carmy home. You make a stop at your favorite deli near his apartment to pick up a quart container of matzo ball soup on the way.

“You gotta eat something,” you encourage, the silence in his apartment deafening.

You’re met with silence as he stares blankly at the table in front of him, his spoon dipped into the soup. Instead, you sit with him, watching him take a few sips of the broth, while the actual food in the soup goes untouched. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.

He doesn’t know if he has the stomach for this either.

All of this. Any of this.

You eventually give in, packing up the soup to put in the fridge for another day, even though you know he’ll probably just toss it when you leave. Just when you think it’s time for you to go, he stops you with the most tender touch to your arm, as he asks:

“Stay?”

His eyes are watery, and although he’s going to let himself cry yet, he looks more vulnerable than he’s looked all day. How could you say no?

“Yeah,” you agree.

You change into one of your favorite t-shirts of his and the pair of sweatpants that he always seems to give you as you get ready for bed. He doesn’t even wear them anymore, as if he knows they’ve become your favorite… as if they’ve just become yours. You spend the evening with the TV on, not talking, just sitting in each others’ company. You watch as he smokes a cigarette inside, stress-running a hand through his slicked back hair from his shift earlier.

Tonight feels heavy.

Tonight is heavy.

Before bed, you fill up a glass of water for him, before placing it on his bedside table. Carmy lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as you crawl into bed with him.

He’s too afraid to his close his eye, because if he closes his eyes he’ll picture it: the State Street bridge, Michael….

How could he? he thinks to himself, the bitter taste of betrayal welling up at the bottom of his throat.

You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep next to Carmy – something that feels like an impossible task when you can practically hear him thinking out loud beside you. Instead, the two of you just lay there, frozen in silence. You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing it for when you feel Carmy shift closer to you.

He turns to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body, earning the smallest gasp of surprise from you. You’ve never seen him like this as he buries his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours. It’s then that you realize he’s crying, and you know it’s highly likely that this is the first time he’s cried since he heard the news.

“Carm?” you whisper, unsure if he wants you to acknowledge it or not.

“Carmy.”

But he doesn’t respond. He just cries.

So you let him.

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you whisper, over and over again.

You stroke his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you know there isn’t much you can do. Instead, you let him cry, running your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort you can. This is breaking your heart. You fight the tears coming to your eyes because this is so not about you right now.

Carmy’s body shakes against yours as he finally lets go, surrendering to the huge waves of pain and grief that crash and pull him under. He feels like he’s being taken under a riptide, never to see the surface again. He knows he’s been wildly unfair to you and as he weeps against your body and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve someone like you.

Someone who chooses to say, even when he’s being a dick.

Someone who cares enough to fight with him.

Someone who cares for him like this.

When he finally looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, all he can think to do is to kiss you.

It catches you off guard as he surges forward, pressing his lips against yours, that for a moment, you let him.

But reality hits and you’re afraid he’s gotten too carried away, swept up in a moment of grief.

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you murmur, pushing him away.

He leans his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, almost as if he’s given up on the idea. You feel like he’s put you in an impossible position. You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t want to – hadn’t thought about kissing him before – but this felt wrong. He was vulnerable, and you know you’ll both regret it in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you apologize quietly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence only makes you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” is all he says, cutting you off mid-sentence. With the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the sun, the moon, and you hang the stars, you’re not sure how to say no.

Carmy leans in to kiss you once more before whispering mere inches away from your lips:

“Please.”

He presses his lips against yours again, immediately regretting his past self for not doing this sooner. He’s never tasted anything sweeter than you, and the way you kiss him back seems to bring all thoughts flooding his brain to a halt.

In between kisses you manage enough self control to stammer out, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes,” he replies, as if it’s a declaration.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he pleads, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he begins to leave across your collarbone. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good,” he repeats.

You surrender, letting go of your own ambivalence as you focus on the way his lips feel against your skin. It’s then that you realize what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you. For a moment, you’ll tear down the walls, the rigid boundaries that you’ve kept to help you compartmentalize your relationship with Carmy.

There’s no possibility of hiding from it when his body feels this good so close to yours.

The truth is that you are fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other.

“Yes,” you parrot.

With your confirmation, his mouth is back on yours, as you’re pulling him on top of you, deeper into your shared passionate liplock. He wonders why he’s denied himself the pleasure of having you, for this goddamn long. His tongue slides against yours, a tender hand moving up to cup your face. The way his name sounds tumbling out of your mouth sends him into a frenzy. It feels absolutely intoxicating and he can’t get enough.

Carmy’s hands begin to wander, fingertips sliding at an experimental pace underneath the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing. You shudder against his touch, gasping as you anticipate where this is going.

Carmy raises his head to look at you, not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

“This okay?” he asks you, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him permission. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing you again, dragging calloused fingertips up and down your torso underneath the shirt, hesitantly making their way to where they’d like to be. You’re not wearing a bra, he realizes, as his fingertips find soft, supple skin at the rounded bottom of your breast. He follows the shape of it, before bringing a cautious palm up to grab hold of the fullness of your breast. You arch into his touch, encouraging him further. Carmy takes his time exploring your body, giving you the lightest touch as his fingertips graze your nipple.

“Can I take this off?” he questions, only willing to move forward if you say yes.

You nod, breathlessly, “Please.”

You watch as he sits up, pushing the hem of your shirt up over your breasts, revealing your bare body to him. He has to hold back a groan, swallowing hard.

Carmy stops what he’s doing, in pure awe of you, as he marvels at you. He can’t believe this is real: that you’re here, laying in his bed, allowing him to do the things he thought could only live in his head.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” are the words that tumble out of his mouth and you think you may cry.

“Touch me,” you whisper desperately, begging him to come back to you.

“Touch me, Carmy.”

Carmy lays his body over yours, and you spread your legs wider, allowing him to fit perfectly between them. He begins to roll his hips against yours as he returns his attention back to your bare breasts. He drags his fingertips over your erect nipples, following his touch with his mouth.

He practically groans as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, earning a strangled whine from you as his hot, wet mouth engulfs you.

“Carmy,” you moan, arching into him.

He’s rolling his hips against your clothed core on pure instinct, as he takes his time, now exploring unfamiliar territory with his lips and his tongue. You find a good rhythm as he continues to drag his mouth over you, grinding your hips into his underneath your remaining clothes. He’s surprisingly good at this – something you hadn’t expected considering he’d let you know he didn’t have much experience when it came to dating. You assumed that that meant sexually as well.

As Carmy moves to your other breast, you feel one of his hands snake under the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, lifting his hips so he can feel you. You know you’ve soaked through your cotton panties from the anticipation, and it goes right to his dick as he feels just how wet you are. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but he’s seen in porn. He begins to rub circles across your clothed core, while he busies his mouth with exploring your other breast.

But he’s not quite where you want him.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him.

Had he just gotten caught up in the moment?

Did you not want to go this far?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks you, a concerned tone in his voice.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, I just-.”

Instead of explaining, you reach down to grab his hand, guiding him just a little higher up to your clit. He presses the rough pad of his index finger against it, finally touching you where you need him, gasping to let him know that he’s found the right spot. His eyes are locked on you, watching your face change as the new spot you’ve shown him brings you more pleasure than he could’ve imagined.

He practically groans into your mouth when he hears the way you whine his name, and he swears he’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

“There?” he asks you, rubbing tight circles across your clit.

“Yes,” you pant, growing wetter with every touch.

Carmy pulls away just for a moment, daring to touch you underneath your panties. You’re so wet for him, and he thinks he may lose his mind as he slides his index finger in between your folds curiously.

“Take them off,” you practically demand.

“Hm?” he hums, lost in the way you look at him with hooded lids and pupils blown out with pure desire.

He’s never been this guy.

The guy that gets the girl.

He never knew he could feel like this guy, but here you are, begging him to undress you.

“I said take them off,” you repeat yourself, more desperate this time. You take a lighter approach with what you say next, the smallest giggle in your voice. “And while you’re at it, we gotta get you naked too.”

“Yeah,” he says, with the kind of conviction he’d say ‘heard’ with.

He’s stripping off his shirt, and you’re sliding your pants and underwear off with him.

“I have a condom in my emergency kit,” you say, the both of you busy shedding your clothes.

“Yeah?” he asks you, relieved to hear it. He hadn’t thought that far yet.

“Yeah, hold on,” you reply, getting up from the bed.

Carmy thinks he may pass out as he watches you stand, giving him a full view of your naked body. You disappear only for a moment, before returning with the small emergency kit you always keep in your backpack. It’s equipped with all the ‘just-in-cases:’ tampons, panty liners, safety pins… condoms. You pull out a single condom before returning to the bed. Carmy’s kneeling on the bed, and you mirror his body language, doing the same.

“What would you like to do?” you inquire softly.

As turned on and hot for him as you are, you want to make sure that he still wants to do this. He finds himself surprised at your question, not sure how to answer it.

“Think we can just pick up where we left off?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you reply.

You place the condom down beside you on the bed, before leaning in to press your lips against his again. He inhales as you kiss him, his tongue immediately sliding against yours as one of his hands goes to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. He’s surprised as you pull away from him, beginning to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his neck, his chest, and he hisses in anticipation as run your hands down his muscular abdomen, following with your mouth.

“Hold on, I uh-,” he stutters out, as he anticipates where you’re going with this.

You pause, sitting up tall as you kneel, your body across from his.

“I just uh… if you do that, I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he admits, a blush running across his cheeks.

“Yeah, no. Totally cool,” you reassure him, before crashing your lips against his once again.

As you tangle your tongues together once again, Carmy begins to lead you down towards the bed, pushing you back, and climbing on top of you. He still has his sweatpants on, so you begin to bring your hands down to them. He hisses as you cup his rock hard erection, pleasantly surprised by what you feel.

“Wanna take these off?” you ask in between kisses.

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, sitting up for a moment.

You wait with baited breath as he strips his sweatpants off, wondering if he’s as thick as he feels. You’re practically pulsing, squeezing around nothing as you finally see him, Carmy, your best friend, fully naked.

God, he’s beautiful.

How had you not noticed how physically attractive he was?

It’s not that you hadn’t noticed. It’s that you hadn’t let yourself think about it.

You reach over to where you left the condom, handing it to him. Carmy takes it, a blush running across his cheeks as he rolls it on, still in disbelief that you’re about to do this. He returns to you, laying his body over top of you as you space for him once again between your legs. He’s hesitant to give you his full bodyweight as he gives you a long, passionate kiss. And before he knows it, you’re reaching down to stroke him, and he’s thrusting into your hand, his breath becoming heavier and heavier.

You feel him as he presses his tip against you, rubbing it up and down before pushing into you. You both gasp as he gives you shallow thrusts, testing the waters, thrusting deeper into you with each one.

He pauses, exhaling as he’s fully inside of you. You’re pulsing around him, practically causing him to lose his mind with the way you feel alone.

“Fffffuck, you feel good,” he moans, trying not to cum right then and there.

He begins giving you shallow, hesitant thrusts, unsure of himself. He wants to make you feel good. And he’s also terrified that this is going to end before it’s even properly started.

Carmy stops again, pausing within you.

“Sorry, I just-.”

“No, it’s okay. Take your time.”

He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous and that he’s trying not to cum.

“How about… I take control?” you suggest, hesitantly. “And that way, if you need me to stop we can um… well, you can just tell me.”

“Uh… yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Sure.”

Clumsily, the two of you switch positions, making sure he knows you’re okay with this. As he lies on his back, staring up at you, you straddle his hips, giving him the smallest smile. You reach down, guiding him into you once again. You gasp as he fills you, his thick cock stretching you, especially in this position. Carmy’s hands go to your hips as he watches you take him.

“You feel really good too, Carm,” you finally say, your hands moving to his chest to brace yourself as you begin shifting your hips forward and back at the most unbearably slow pace.

Carmy thinks he must be dreaming as he watches you ride him. His hands slide over your hips, wrapping around your body so that he can touch your butt. He’s practically digging the pads of his fingers into your hips as you begin moving over him at a faster pace.

“Shit… you’re really good at this,” he groans, as you lean down to kiss him.

You giggle against his lips, and whatever thoughts he has in his head disappear. Carmy begins thrusting up into you, his hands on your hips encouraging you to move a little faster as you kiss him. You’re moaning his name, whining as you feel every single inch of his cock slide against your walls, becoming more and more breathless by the minute. Your gasps turn into moans, getting higher in pitch as you go. His hands are guiding your hips, taking some control back as you grind against each other.

“Carmy,” you cry out as he thrusts his hips hard into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” he asks. You nod, breathless, as you bury your face into his chest.

He holds your hips down, pinning you down against him as pushing his hips into yours.

“You wanna switch?” he asks, breathless. “Can I-?”

“Please,” you reply eagerly.

You switch positions once more, and as Carmy guides himself into you again, you can tell he’s much more confident than last time you’d found yourself in this position. You wrap a leg around his waist and he holds you there, beginning to move his hips against yours again. He works his way up to a rapid pace, his face turning red as he does, and you’re writhing underneath his body, whispering the dirtiest things into his ear with every single thrust.

“Holy shit, Carmy. You feel so goddamn good too,” you praise him. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” he manages to get out in between grunts.

“Yes. Please let me cum,” you beg him, as he hits that spot inside of you, earning another loud cry.

“Don’t stop.”

He’s surprised to learn that he likes it when you beg as he tangles his fingers with yours, pinning you down so that he can fuck you. With your hand in his, so close to your climax, you let slip:

“I thought about this too. I’ve wanted this for so long too, Carmy.”

“Fuck,” he howls as he drives into you, his sole purpose to earn more praise from you. To hear you cry out his name. To give you what you’ve been begging for.

You angle your hips upward so that he can go even deeper, hitting all the way to the back of you. You’re grasping at his back, his arms, his biceps, hanging onto any piece of him that you can as he shudders, letting out the most guttural sounds. You’re squeezing around him, as he takes you to your high. The feeling of you cumming, squeezing around him like your life depends on it drive him wild, and he’s fucking you through it, the feeling of your orgasm bringing him to his.

As you finally come down, you pull Carmy in for a searing kiss.

“Holy shit, Carm,” you say, breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he pants against your lips.

Even if just for tonight, all feels right in the world.

This feels right.

The light of day is sobering. Before Carmy’s even had a chance to open his eyes, the events of the day before come flooding in, running in vicious circles around his mind: the phone call from Sugar, Richie screaming at him… and then….

Fuck.

He’d crossed the line with you.

He doesn’t know whether to be mad at himself or devastated that he fucked up, considering he’s sure as hell not going to let himself feel anything about Mikey yet.

Michael.

Michael’s dead.

And he might’ve done the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do – the one thing that he’d been afraid of: that he might just lose you.

As you stir in bed next to him, slowly blinking your eyes open, you turn over on your side. Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed and you can see Carmy’s stuck in his head. While you’d let yourself surrender to whatever that was last night, you knew today was different.

“Hey,” is all you say, hugging Carmy’s bed sheets closer to your naked body.

“Um… listen. We don’t have to-,” you begin, searching for the right words. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? I don’t-. You’ve got a lot going right now and-.”

You take a breath. You know the two of you can’t be together right now, even after your revelation last night.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Carmy swallows, fighting back the emotions that begin to swell in his chest.

He feels sick to his stomach.

But he doesn’t want to do this in front of you.

“Yeah, no. We can… we can just forget it,” is all he gets out, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You sure?” you question.

He takes a beat before answering:

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

And even with the declaration you’d made – the promise to forget since neither of you could afford to lose each other – things had become different. In the weeks following, your communications with Carmy were less than normal. While you understood he was processing, grieving, he’d withdrawn from you, and it hurt more than you had the words for.

You’d check in, making sure he knew you were here for him if he needed to talk. But he put his head down, working night after night at the restaurant, cold, stoic, and checked out. You worried about him. And you also knew that you both needed some space from each other.

Some days you regret it – sleeping together – and other days, you don’t. You think that maybe everyone had been right about the two of you all along – that this had been inevitable. But it happened under the worst timing, the worst circumstances and you miss your best friend. You wish, in some ways, that two of you could just go back to normal.

read: chapter five

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#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #smut sunday

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

Text

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Smut (fingering, p in v), Dirty talk, Language, Flirting, Miscommunication, Fluff, Romance, Jake being an idiot. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Wow, okay. I told myself I wasn't going to be emotional, and yet here I am. Crying. This has been such an incredible journey, y'all. This fanfic got me through my lowest this year, and to finally see it finished now that I'm in the spot that I am? I am truly without words. A special shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever who is not only my fan club president, but one of my dearest, dearest friends. I hope I continue to do justice by these two, but I know you'll be there to make sure I do! And a shoutout to @fanficfandomlove as well! Thank you for all of your support, and I'm so lucky to count you as one of my friends! Friendly reminder that I have two writing challenges going at the moment! My Christmas Challenge and my Playlist Challenge are both still taking entries! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The house was still when you entered, the afternoon light streaming through he windows and illuminating the room in such a way that it made you question reality for a moment. You clung to Jake who stood beside you, his arms strong where they were wrapped around your frame. He had almost died. You had almost been too late to save him.

You collapsed to the ground with a shuddering gasp, a sob escaping seconds later. You clasped a hand over your mouth to try and stop the noises coming from you. You had to be strong. You needed to be strong. But the sobs kept coming, wracking your body and you were vaguely aware of Jake kneeling down next to you.

“Scout,” he said gently, running a hand through your hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m safe.”

“I know,” you sobbed, reaching over to cling to him. “I know, but you almost weren’t, Jake. I almost lost you, and there would have been nothing I could have done about it.”

He was silent for a moment, letting you calm down before he continued.

“But you weren’t, sweet girl. You never gave up on me, and you made it. I’m right here with you, okay?” He cooed, helping you to your feet. He gently wiped your tears away, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead. “But if you ever pull something like that again, I will take you over my knee, do you hear me?”

You balked, pushing away to look at him. He was grinning, but there was a look of seriousness in his eyes and you began to splutter.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am, honey girl.”

“Jake Seresin,” you growled, “I just saved your life.”

He chuckled, leaning in closer to you, and you felt your cheeks warm at the proximity.

“And while I’m very thankful for that, sweetheart,” he drawled, eyes growing dark as he looked you up and down, “it doesn’t change the fact that you put yourself in danger.”

“Unbelievable,” you groused, pushing past him and towards the stairs. You made it up the first three steps before he grabbed you, causing you to let out a shriek as he threw you over his shoulder. He gave you a swat on the rear, chuckling when you yelped.

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you into trouble one day,” he murmured playfully, walking up the stairs and towards your bedroom. Once inside, he tossed you down onto the bed where you landed with a bounce. He was on you in an instant, molding his lips over yours in a kiss that you eagerly returned. The kiss was one of desperation and relief, knowing that the both of you were alive and safe and just needing to feel one another. He nipped at your bottom lip as he pulled away, chuckling when you chased after him with a whine. He placed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away once more.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He rumbled, green eyes meeting yours. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as you got lost in how dark his eyes had become. He clucked at you disapprovingly, shaking his head. “Need to hear that pretty voice of yours, honey girl. Let’s try again. Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You swallowed thickly, shifting slightly under the weight of his stare. “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He smirked. You took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze with your half hooded one.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He hummed, leaning in to steal another kiss from you. His tongue delved between your parted lips, licking languidly into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, reaching your hands up to run your fingers through the soft locks of his hair, tugging slightly. It was Jake’s turn to moan, and he pulled away, breath coming out in pants as he looked at you.

“Strip for me.”

You moved out from underneath him to stand, turning to face him as you began to undress. Jake watched you with hungry eyes as you slowly revealed yourself to him, stopping once you were standing in only your chemise. Without breaking eye contact, he moved to his feet, taking slow steps towards you. He ran his fingers over your cheekbone before cupping your jaw and kissing you once more.

“I love seeing you like this,” he whispered, voice low and gravelly. “But when I say strip, sweet girl, I mean all the way.”

Your breath hitched, eyes going wide and face heating with embarrassment. This man had seen you before, but somehow this time felt different, filled with more anticipation than nervousness like the first time. He cocked an eyebrow at you before slowly kneeling down and taking the hem of your chemise in his hands.

“Here,” he murmured, mischief in his eyes. “Let me help you.”

He slowly peeled the garment off of you, moving to stand as he did so. He pulled it gently over your head, tossing it towards the corner as he looked at you. You could practically feel the trail his eyes took as he gazed hungrily at you. He began to unbutton his own shirt, untucking it from his trousers as he gestured towards the bed.

“On the bed, Scout.”

You did as instructed, watching with hooded eyes as he stripped bare before you. Once he was finished, he crawled up the bed towards your waiting arms, meeting you in a passion filled kiss. His right hand crept up to palm at your breast, causing you to mewl into his mouth.

“Can practically smell how wet you are for me,” he growled as he pulled away, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your fingers once again found purchase in his hair, desperate for something to cling on to.

His lips left a trail down your chest until they enveloped your nipple, alternating between sucking and licking. You let out a keening cry as you arched into his mouth, hands holding his head steady.

“Feel good, sugar?” He smirked up at you, nipping at the surrounding skin. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

“Jake!” You cried, eyes clamping shut as you squirmed beneath him. He pressed more of his weight into you in a bid to keep you still, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

“You feel what you do to me, honey girl?” He murmured, moving back up to capture your lips with his. This kiss was all tongues and teeth as you bucked up into him. “Feel how hard you make me?”

“Jake, please,” you whined, eyes begging as they stared at him, letting out a gasp as he snuck a finger between the two of you to press against your slit. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he cooed, pressing his finger into you slowly, earning a high-pitched cry from you as he began to slowly pump in and out. “Let me make you feel good first.”

“Jake,” you gasped, fingers moving from his hair to his shoulders, surely leaving scratches behind. “More, please.”

He slipped another finger inside of you slick entrance, scissoring them before crooking them in search of that special spot inside of you. You cried out as he found it, stars in your eyes as you called out his name, practically wailing when his thumb circled your clit and sending shocks of pleasure through you.

“Can feel how close you are, sweet girl,” he whispered, placing chaste kisses against any piece of skin he could find. “Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. God, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. Need you to come first, though. Come on, baby. Come for me.”

“Jakey,” you cried, the coil inside you snapping as your vision went white, a soundless scream on your lips.

Your breathing was ragged as you watched him slip his slick soaked fingers into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“Taste so good, honey girl,” he murmured as he looked at you, the greens of his eyes practically swallowed by his pupils. “Gonna taste you-”

“No,” you said breathlessly, causing him to frown. You shook your head as you fought to control your breathing. “Want you inside me. Please, Jakey.”

A grin broke out over his face at your words.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he chuckled, already moving to line himself up at your entrance. He ran his length through your folds, coating himself in your slick before slowly pushing in. You sucked in a breath as your nails dug into his shoulders, Jake groaning at the combination of pain and pleasure you were provoking in him.

“Shit, baby,” he gasped, head flying back as he continued to slide into you. “Can feel you sucking me in. So wet and tight. Shit.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist once he was fully seated inside of you. The two of you basked in the feel of finally having each other so close, the emotions of the past two days catching up with you. You didn’t even notice that tears began to fall until Jake was wiping them away, still seated inside of you.

“You okay?” He asked, eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded, cupping his face in your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, nodding once more. “Need to feel you. Need you to move.”

“I’ve got you, honey girl,” he smirked, thrusting slowly into you. You gasped out, head thrown back as he built a rhythm, finding an angle that worked for the both of you.

“Always feel so good,” he groaned, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts became harder. “So wet and warm. Always such a good girl for me, yeah? Made just for me. Love the pathetic little sounds you make as you’re creamin’ all over me. Makin’ a mess of the sheets as I ruin you.”

“Jakey,” you whined out, barely able to form a coherent thought as he rutted into you, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He smirked, pulling back to look at you and brushing a stray hair out of your face. “Too cock drunk to answer me? Am I makin’ you feel too good?”

He pulled out of you, and you cried at the loss. His hands landed on your hips as he flipped you onto your stomach, positioning you on your knees. A crack sounded in the room and you let out a gasp as Jake’s hand landed on your ass.

“Jake!” You exclaimed, eyes going wide as he landed a second blow to the other side. You could practically feel yourself grow wetter, and your cheeks heated with shame.

“You going to stay out of trouble from now on?” He asked lowly, kneading the flesh of your ass greedily. He landed another blow when you didn’t answer, and you jolted forward, but his hands held you in place.

“Jake, please,” you whined, pushing back against him in a bid for him to slip back inside you. He tsked before landing another light slap to the other side, soothing the sting before answering.

“You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? I can do this all day.”

Two more smacks resounded accompanying your moan of pleasure. You could feel yourself practically dripping onto the sheets below with how wet you were. Tears of frustration began to prickle at your eyes the longer he kept you like this.

“What’s this?” Jake mocked. “Is my honey girl a slut for pain?”

“Jake!”

“Answer the question, Scout.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m a slut for pain.”

Another smack landed on your ass, and your head fell forward onto your arms as you let out a sob.

“Are you going to stay out of trouble when I tell you to?”

“Yes! Yes, please Jakey!”

He hummed as he leaned back, admiring his handiwork. You were sure your ass was as red as it felt, and you hung your head in shame as his fingers ran through the slick that was running down your thighs.

“Who knew you’d love being treated this way,” he rasped, leaning in and licking a line up your slit. You cried out at the sensation, your hips surging back to seek out more. He chuckled as he ran his length through your folds once more. “Who knew the prim and proper lady from Baltimore was just a cock hungry slut. Is that what you want, sugar? You wanna be filled up, nice and full?”

“Yes,” you hissed, arching your back as the tip of his cock slipped into you. “Want you to fill me up.”

“As you wish,” he smirks, slamming back into you. His pace was relentless, hips slamming into yours with a force that nearly knocked you over. Jake gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it to guide you back until your back was flush to his chest. His hand drifted down to wrap around your neck, squeezing slightly and earning a debauched moan from you. He slowed his pace until he was gently rocking into you. He pulled your head to the side to face his, hooded gaze meeting hooded gaze.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, and you did as he said. Jake spit into your mouth, and a part of you knew you should be disgusted at how he was treating you, but another, larger, part entirely craved it.

“Swallow.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing. You opened your mouth without prompting, earning a wicked grin from the man behind you.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, one hand moving to guide your hips back onto him. “Love having you like this. I’m gonna fill you up so full, you’ll be leaking me for days to come, you hear me? Can’t wait for you to be all round and swollen with me, with our baby. Gonna keep you full for as long as you’ll let me. You like that? You want me to fill you up? To breed you?”

“Please,” you gasped, feeling the coil tighten in your belly for the second time. Jake released your throat, snaking his hand down to toy with your clit. You keened as the precipice approached, and you could feel him begin to twitch inside you.

“Need you to come for me, honey girl,” he rumbled, pace faltering as he neared his own high. “Need to feel you squeezin’ me and milkin’ me dry.”

You flew over the edge with a cry, the coil snapping once again as you came harder than you thought possible. Jake groaned behind you, hips stuttering as you felt spurts of warmth fill you, triggering another, smaller orgasm as you continued to flutter around him. Moments passed as the two of you rode out your highs, breathing slowing to a calm.

Jake slowly lowered the two of you to the bed, rolling to the side as you turned to face him. His skin shone with sweat in the afternoon sun, his hair sticking up every which way as he smiled softly at you. You were sure you looked a similar state, but you couldn’t find it in you to care as he cupped your jaw and pulled you into a slow, sweet kiss. His tongue ran gently over yours, and you sighed as you basked in the feeling of being there with him. He pulled away, but stayed close enough to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“I love you,” he murmured. You couldn’t help the grin that broke out across your face as you placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too.”

“I meant it, you know,” he started, eyes uncertain as they watched you. “I want to have a family with you. We’ll get married, and I’ll build us a new house. One where you and I can grow old together.”

“Do you promise?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. He nodded earnestly.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my entire life. Your aunt and uncle already gave me permission to marry you.”

“They did?” You asked, brow shooting up in surprise. You thought back to your trip those weeks ago. “Is that what she whispered to you before we left?”

“That?” He frowned, shaking his head. “No, they gave me permission after the first week of us bein’ there. No, Aunt Jo told me…”

“Told you what?” You pressed as he trailed off. His eyes held confusion as he shook his head.

“It didn’t make much sense, but she said ‘Adeline would approve.’”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, and tears flooded your eyes once more. Jake looked panicked as the tears began to fall.

“Scout, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” He asked frantically.

“No, not at all,” you laughed, wiping the tears away. “Adeline was my mother, Jake.”

He froze, eyes growing wide as he took in your words.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And she’s right. She would have liked you. Both of my parents would have.”

“You think?” He questioned, eyes hopeful.

“I know so.”

You sat at the bar of the saloon, head buried in your hands as you let out a frustrated sigh.

“I just don’t understand,” you said for the umpteenth time, raising your head to look at the girls that surrounded you. “Why hasn’t he proposed yet?”

“Are you two fighting about something?” Birdie asked. You shook your head.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the right time,” Penny suggested. Nat snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Knowing him,” she started, fixing you with a look, “he’s just being an idiot.”

“You don’t think he’s changed his mind about me, do you?” You whispered, fear gripping at you at the possibility. You knew that Jake had never had any intention of marrying before you came along. Maybe he had grown tired of you? Was the thought of marriage and a life together too much for him now? Things had seemed fine between you, but you were now into spring, and still no proposal. You fidgeted with the pendant around your neck. After your reunion, Jake had been quick to put it on you, chest puffed out in pride every time he saw you wearing it, which was always.

“No!” Penny assured you, resting against the bar top. “No, that boy is smitten with you, Scout.”

“You know,” Bunny spoke, causing all eyes to turn to the usually quiet girl. “If you’re really doubting his feelings for you, maybe you should try pulling back. You know, to see if he does something.”

You were quiet for a moment as you all pondered her words.

“It could work,” Penny conceded thoughtfully. “Jake is new to this kind of relationship, and asking him directly might not work. Try it Bunny’s way and see what happens.”

You nodded, moving to leave.

“And let us know what happens!” Nat called after you, earning a chuckle.

Another week had passed, and you had effectively been avoiding Jake at every turn. Every kiss dodged, every moment alone averted, and every conversation kept to a minimum. You could tell it was driving Jake crazy, but you knew he needed to be the one to confront you. How else were you supposed to know where his mind was at? Jake was kind, and perhaps he was trying to find a way to spare your feelings? No, he needed to be the one to say something.

You were carrying a bucket of feed into the barn when someone grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall. You let out a gasp as the bucket fell from your hand with a clang, your arms trapped between yours and Jake’s chest. His hands were on either side of your head as he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You kissed him back with fervor, hands gripping onto his shirt. You had missed this. This week had been just as hard for you as it appeared to be for him.

You shoved him away, Jake stumbling back a few steps as you attempted to calm your racing mind, the both of you panting and glaring at each other.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He growled, eyes running up and down the length of you. You swallowed thickly, straightening to your full height.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes you do,” he snapped, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “You have been dodgin’ me left and right all week, and I wanna know why.”

“Are you tired of me?” You blurted out. All anger drained from Jake’s face as it was replaced with confusion.

“What?”

“Are you tired of me?”

“Scout, that’s a stupid question,” he huffed. When you didn’t say anything, he rolled his eyes and fixed you with another glare. “No, of course I’m not. Why would you think that?”

“Then why haven’t you proposed yet?” You murmured, bottom lip wobbling as you fought to keep your composure. “It’s been weeks since everything happened, and you still haven’t asked me to marry you.”

Jake looked at you incredulously, taking the few steps until he was standing right in front of you.

“Well, shit, honey girl,” he chuckled. “I gave you the necklace, didn’t I?”

“What?” You blinked up at him.

“I gave you the necklace,” he continued, picking up the pendant and toying with it. “Figured that was as good as declaring we were gonna get married one day.”

You stared at him, his words slowly running through your head. You shoved him back again, this time following him as you slapped at his chest and shoulders.

“Ow, hey! Scout!” He hollered, grabbing your arms to stop you. Once you realized you were immobile, you stamped your foot, glaring up at him.

“Jake Seresin,” you shrieked, cheeks warm from exertion, “giving me the necklace does not equate to a proposal!”

Now it was his turn to stare. His bewildered expression melted into one of mischief and wonder as he ran his thumbs up and down your wrists.

“Alright, honey girl. You just wait. I’ll blow you away,” he smirked, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. You hummed, melting into his touch as he released your arms to wrap his own around you, swaying the two of you side to side.

“You better,” you muttered, a ghost of a smile on your lips. You felt him place a kiss to the top of your head as he held you tighter.

“How are you feelin’ now?” He asked, running a comforting hand up and down your spine as the two of you continued to sway.

“I’m happy,” you whispered, closing your eyes and pressing your ear to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady, a sound you’d never tire of.

“Yeah,” he hummed, resting his cheek against the top of your head now. “I’m happy too.”

Coming January 2024...

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golden-cherry · 11 months

Text

deal - cl16 (6/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Wine as an apology is always accepted.

Warnings: Charles being sweet, mentions of ex-boyfriend, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3k

series masterlist

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A/N: this is my "good luck Carlos" chapter. feedback is always appreciated!

It's cold in the narrow streets of Monaco.

Your jacket is thick, but the high walls and the wind sweeping through the streets it doesn't keep you warm enough to keep your fingers from freezing. Unlike the rays of sunshine this morning that warmed Charles and you, you are now surrounded by shadows and the clouds hang low over Monte-Carlo.

The weather could not have been more fitting.

Shortly after you got out of the car and left the backyard, the sun disappeared and the temperature felt like it had dropped 10 degrees. And your spirits went down with it.

You don't want to argue with Charles, and definitely you didn't want to ditch him, but the situation was just too much for you. You've never been good at arguing - bitching will do - and you've always run away as soon as the opportunity has presented itself.

It's been no different with your parents.

You turn down the next alley. The streets are so narrow that no car can drive there. And Charles can't drive alongside you, shouting things at you through the window like in a bad comedy. But the wind whistling around your ears creeps under your jacket and makes you shiver all over.

For sure, Charles is already sitting on the couch at home, thinking of the best way to kick you out of the apartment. While he's clearly crossed lines - first, meddling in your affairs, and second, pressuring you to speak up straight - it's still his apartment, and he decides who can and can't live in it.

Inside, you're scolding yourself. Why the hell are you acting like this to your roommate who let you stay with him for free? You just left him there. What if he's worried about you? And comes looking for you? On purpose, you walk through those alleys so he won't catch up with you. But what if something actually happens? And you couldn't apologize for your behavior?

But how the heck are you supposed to apologize? If you had enough time - and were sitting at your desk - you would come up with a speech and write it down so you could recite it to him. It would be emotional, knock his socks off, and for sure you would cry, which would definitely be embarrassing.

Only you're not at home at your desk, which is why you have to come up with something else.

Last night Charles complained about your sweet wine, which is why you can assume he prefers dry wine. Or maybe he doesn't like wine in general. But then he wouldn't have asked for it.

As you enter one of the main streets, the clouds in the sky seem to loosen a bit and you leave behind the stone that you have been kicking for several meters in front of you. It's not far to the apartment, and thank goodness your favorite supermarket is on the way.

As you walk through the sliding doors, you see Vicky sitting at the register. She's a few years older than you and always tells you the latest gossip from the employees when there's a line behind you to cash out. Plus, she always makes sure there's at least one bottle of your favorite wine in stock in case you're having a bad day.

Like today.

But instead of giving you a smile, she puckers her red lips into a thin line. "I'm sorry, Y/N." She pulls her shoulders up. "I had a bottle hidden for you, but a new colleague found it and gave it to someone who was looking for it and she thought he was incredibly cute."

You slump your shoulders. But that's not why you're here (although you would have loved some of your wine). "It's all cool, Vicky. I think I'll try something different today," you reply to her and disappear into the liquor section.

You can't miss the crime scene. Where your wine should be, there is only yawning emptiness. But one shelf over, there's lovely wine, and thank goodness for cell phone service, so you can Google which of the bottles in front of you is the right one.

According to an article that lists the best "dry wines for beginners," one of the ones on the shelf in front of you is supposed to be the best and, above all, affordable, so you don't hesitate long and tuck a bottle under your arm. And since you have no idea, you trust the beautifully designed website.

On your way to the checkout, you grab some more gum. As you put your stuff on the checkout belt, Vicky frowns.

"Since when do you drink dry wine?" She looks closely at the label before turning the bottle over. "Ah. This one has a higher alcohol content." She winks at you before scanning your belongings.

"This one's not for me," you counter, handing her the twenty-euro bill you've wedged between your phone and the cell phone case.

Theatrically, Vicky places her manicured hand on her chest. "Who is it for? Is it for a boy?"

You nod and accept the change, which you stuff into your jacket pocket. "In theory, yes. But he's my roommate. And it's supposed to serve as an apology." You shrug.

Vicky raises her eyebrows. "Ohhhhhhhh. What's his name? And how old is he? Is he cute? Do you need condoms? Wait, there should be some around here somewhere." She bends over backwards and rummages around on a shelf, but you interrupt her directly.

"Stop, Vicky. I don't need condoms. We just met yesterday."

She turns back to you and props her elbows on the register. "First of all, that's not a reason." She sticks her left index finger in the air. "And second," her middle finger follows, "if you've only known each other since yesterday, what do you have to apologize for?"

"We got into a fight and I just ditched him." You pucker your mouth into a line. "Was just a stupid move on my part."

Vicky doesn't comment on that, just nods. "Good luck to you, then." She smiles at you. "And next time I'll have your wine in stock again. I'll have to tell my colleague not to just hand over the hidden bottle, no matter how cute the guy is."

You return her smile. "Thanks. See you."

Outside, the sun is almost setting, and when you look at your watch, it's four o'clock. How long have you been out? On the last few feet to the apartment, you take in the last rays of sunlight and think about how best to start the apology right away.

Charles, I'm sorry that I just left you standing there, but -.

Charles, I'm really sorry that I just disappeared, but -

Charles, why did you interfere when you -

Wow. Every version you come up with is horrible. Maybe it's better if you come up with something on the fly. While you're not particularly good at it either, anything is better than what's on your mind right now.

A neighbor smiles kindly at you as he opens the front door and lets you pass. The stairs up to the apartment seem miserably long and the wine bottle in your hand feels like it weighs twenty kilos. Arriving at the apartment door, you tug your jacket into place and take another look at the bottle. What if he doesn't like the wine at all? Or you don't think of anything right away?

What if he throws you out right away without listening to your apology?

You tighten your shoulders and rummage in your jacket pocket for your keys only to find that your apartment key is attached to your car key. And unfortunately, Charles has it. So you have no choice but to knock on the door, humiliated, hoping that Charles is already home.

You raise your hand and hesitantly knock three times, praying that he will open the door for you. Sitting on the steps in front of the apartment waiting for him is certainly more pathetic.

A few seconds later, the door actually opens and Charles is standing in front of you.

"Before you say anything, I'm so sorry I ditched you," you blurt out, and without giving it much thought, you reach out your arm to hand your roommate your apology gift, but Charles raises his hands and shakes his head, taking the wind out of your sails.

It's over. He's kicking you out. You're sure of it.

"Come on in for now. You look like you're frozen through." He takes a step aside so you can enter, and closes the door behind you. He takes the bottle from your hand so you can take off your jacket and hang it on the coat rack. He inspects the label and looks at you suspiciously. "Dry wine? Since when do you drink that kind of thing?"

"Not at all," you answer his question, nervously rubbing your hands together to warm them up. "This one's for you."

Charles raises his eyebrows. "You shouldn't have."

"Yes, it does. It serves as an apology and -"

"No, Y/N," he interrupts, "it really wouldn't have been necessary." He walks further into the apartment and extends his arm, pointing to the living room. On the coffee table are chips, cookies, and fruit gums of every variety. And next to it are two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine.

Confused, you look at him, but Charles just shrugs.

"I should apologize to you. For not being a good friend to you." He walks over to the couch and sits down. Silently, you follow him. As you sit down at the other end of the couch, he turns to you and pours some of your favorite wine into one of the glasses. As you take it, Charles continues to speak. "I had no right to just answer your phone. And I definitely shouldn't have pressured you into talking to me about it." His gaze moves from your face to your hands, which are gripping the glass tightly. "I clearly crossed a line, and I'm so sorry I was too blind to see it."

You definitely didn't expect that. You were more expecting him to yell at you or leave packed suitcases right outside your apartment door. But not that he would apologize to you. And certainly not like this, with candy and wine.

"And I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to run from me. When you got out of the car, I realized what a fuck-up I'd made, and I went right after you, but I couldn't find you."

"I walked through narrow alleys so you wouldn't find me," you admit meekly, and a small smile spreads across his face.

"That's what I thought. But I was worried anyway. I was in a small supermarket not far from here and they still had a bottle of your wine left. I don't want to buy your friendship or anything -" he raises his hands placatingly, "but I figured it couldn't hurt."

You take a sip and warmth spreads through your belly. "So you're not kicking me out of the apartment?"

Charles snaps his eyes open. "Are you stupid? What makes you think that?"

You shrug and put your glass back on the table. "Because I pissed you off like that? And just disappeared?"

"Now listen to me very carefully." He leans toward you a little and folds his hands in his lap. "If I were you, I would have done the same thing. I was definitely too pushy. You don't have to apologize, understood?" When you nod reluctantly, his gaze softens a little. "But you need to stop constantly assuming that I'm going to kick you out of the apartment as soon as something happens. We're friends. And friends who live together fight in between. It's normal."

You don't know how to respond to that. You'd love to apologize to him anyway, but you're afraid he'll interrupt you right away, so you let it go. Instead, you smile gratefully at him.

"I didn't know what kind of snacks you were into, by the way. So I asked a saleswoman what kind of things were the best to apologize with. I think she was flirting with me, though. She suggested chocolate strawberries" he tells you, reaching for the bottle of wine you brought. "She said they were the "sexiest apology" and if I ever needed to apologize to her, she would certainly accept that one." He pours some of the wine into his still-empty glass and sniffs it.

"You didn't look thrilled when you tasted my wine last night. And on a website, this wine was listed as one of the better dry wines for beginners," you explain as he takes a sip. You screw up your face a little and wait for his reaction.

Charles pulls the corners of his mouth down and his eyebrows up in wonder. "That's a really good one. You Googled it well."

For a short time, you sit in silence across from each other, each sipping your drink. You're glad you've put the argument behind you, and the silence is definitely not uncomfortable. But something still bothers you.

You take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling. "That was my ex-boyfriend you were talking to on the phone, by the way."

Charles nods weakly. "I figured as much."

You purse your lips. Wanting to put the argument completely behind you, you want to tell Charles what's going on. To keep him in the loop. After all, he's your friend. And friends tell each other such important things - right?

"We broke up recently. Well, actually, he broke up with me. And not in the nicest way." You take a big sip of your wine and pull your knees to your chest. You feel vulnerable as you tell Charles about it. And for a moment, you wonder if telling him the story is really the right thing to do. But Charles' gaze is gentle, and with a soft nod, he encourages you to keep talking.

"He -" You take a deep breath, feeling the air rattle through your windpipe. "He slept with other women because - um - because I didn't want to sleep with him."

Is that too private for someone you've only known for barely a day? You look at Charles' face for any clue that he doesn't want to hear this, but you find nothing.

"He tried to push me into it, but I just didn't want to, and then he found others and dropped me." You feel tears welling up in your eyes, and you try to blink them away. "Shit, sorry." You wipe away a tear running down your cheek with the sleeve of your sweater. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry over him anymore. He's not worth it. Definitely not."

Charles' gaze lingers on your hands, clutching the glass. He doesn't say anything, but lets you feel your feelings without wanting to interfere. But the way he looks at you, gentle and understanding, you know he would catch you should you fall into a spiral of sadness.

You take another sip. "What did he want?"

Charles clears his throat. "You. Well, he wanted you back."

"And what did you answer him?" you ask him.

"That he should go to hell. From your reaction, it was kind of clear to me that he should stay away from you. I hope that's okay."

A smile spreads across your face and your roommate exhales in relief. "Totally okay." You nod at him. "Thanks."

Charles pours himself some more of his wine. "For what? For crossing boundaries and meddling in your affairs?" he jokes, and the mood lightens a bit.

You playfully wrinkle your nose. "Exactly. Boundaries are superfluous between roommates anyway. Who needs privacy after all?" You give a short laugh, and Charles does the same. "No, let's face it. You stood up for me twice today, and we've only known each other since yesterday. You're a good friend. And I'm glad I met you."

You wonder if that's the wine talking. It sure is. Inwardly, you slap your forehead. Charles probably thinks you're weird for confessing something like that to him after such a short time.

But he doesn't. He smiles at you. "I'm glad I met you, too." He holds out his glass for you to toast. "And I'm very excited to see where the journey takes us."

Just before your glass clinks against his, you pause. "So am I. And as long as we stick to the rules, it'll all work out. And I don't need to lock the bedroom at night."

You grin at each other. The green in his eyes sparkles. Vicky's question about whether your roommate is cute flashes somewhere in the back of your mind. But as quickly as the thought has come, it's gone.

After all, you have enough problems to worry about. And Charles is too good of a friend to waste even a thought in that direction.

"If you don't lock the bedroom, I won't try to murder you during the day," your friend grins. "Sounds like a reasonable deal, don't you think?" He stretches his legs out a little and there are only a few inches between your feet.

Your cell phone, which is sitting next to you on the couch, vibrates, but you don't even think to push the call away. All your attention is on the man in front of you. The man who makes you laugh, comforts you when you cry, and supports you when you need help.

In that moment, you decide that you will do whatever it takes to keep this friendship going for as long as possible.

You bump your glass against his. "Deal."

But the fact that friendships only work when both of you want them too doesn't cross your mind.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc prompt #formula 1 #Charles Leclerc smut #Charles Leclerc fanfiction

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vioartemis · 1 year

Text

I’ll die with you

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Months after the 2022 massacre, you reunite with someone dear to you. But the happiness in only temporary; a new killer is targeting you. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 a/n: This will probably be a multi chapters story with very irregular posting :)) Warnings: blood, injuries, Ghostface stuff, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

"Hey, I'm not going to disappear okay?"

You laughed as your girlfriend pouted when you pushed her away gently. You were lying on her bed, her on top of you kissing you desperately as if you were about to vanish.

"It's just two days Tara, maybe less knowing her"

"Well that's still too long! Who's going to cuddle with me if you're not here? And my morning kiss?"

"I'll make up this, I promise" you kiss her "After this weekend"

She groaned slightly, disappointed. But she knew it was important for you.

"Can we stop talking now? I want to enjoy our last moment together..."

"Don't be dramatic, it's not our last moment together. When you say it like that it looks like we will never see each other again..."

She didn't answer and kissed you again, desperately.

You hadn't been separated in a while since the... incident. You were so used to be on each other all day it was hard being without her for too long.

Her lips were soon on your neck, placing hot, wet kisses here, sucking dark purple marks there, hands everywhere on you. You let out a sight, fingers tangled in her hair.

"Tara..."

She hummed against your skin, hands sliding under your shirt. You felt her smile on your shoulder when she felt you shivering under her cold fingers.

You arrived late at the train station, hair still a little messy. You rolled down your window and looked around for the person you were waiting. She wasn't difficult to spot with her blue suit.

You texted her you were there. She looked up, and starting walking toward you, a smile replacing her previous frown.

"Where did you get that car? Are you even allowed to drive it?" she asked as she took place next to you

"I stole it"

She gave you a "are you serious" look. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

"I'm kidding, I bought it. And yes, I have a licence"

You started to drive home calmly.

"How was New York?" you asked

"Oh you know, with work I don't really have time to visit"

"You know that's not what I meant"

"I know"

"... It's going to get better right...? Does it ever go away...?"

"Not completely, never. It's normal to feel that way. You cared about him, we both did. Time will ease the pain, but he will still be in our hearts. Forever"

She had never been good at reassuring anyone, but this time she found the right words.

Months after, your dad's death still hurt. It was normal, you knew it. You wanted to get over it, like everyone told you, but there was always that part of yourself that still believed he would come home.

"I'm back" he would say with a smile "Sorry I made you wait, the delivery guy forgot the sauce, again"

But that never happened. It never would.

With your mom out of town, you didn't think too much about him. Or at least that's what you said not to worry Tara. Now that she was back, even if it was only a weekend, the good old days came back, flashing before your eyes.

You parked in front of the house, tears in your eyes.

"How can you not cry...?" you asked with a nervous laugh, trying to light up the mood

"I'm Gale Weathers, I don't cry. Not in public"

"Of course, why did I even asked?"

You both smiled a little, getting out of the car and inside the house.

You started making diner, telling her some things you learnt while she was gone, trying to give her ideas for a new novel.

"Why don't you tell me about your life? It would make an interesting book. A spicy one for sure"

So she saw the hickeys.

"Mom!"

You blushed hard, embarrassed.

"No you're right, writing about people only attracts psychos. I wouldn't want your girlfriend or you getting hurt"

"Thank you?"

You both laughed and had a good time watching your favorite series while eating, until her phone rung.

"What does he wants? I told him I was off this weekend" she mumbled

"Pick up"

"What?"

"Maybe it's important"

She looked at you for a second, before getting up and taking the call. When she came back, you already knew what she was going to say.

"They learnt I was back here and now they want me to-"

"I know. It's fine, we had a good time, you can go"

"I'm sorry Y/n..."

She hugged you tight.

"You're Gale Weathers, the best reporter. No wonder everyone wants you"

She smiled a little, relieved you weren't mad, and was quick to go.

It always ended up that way with her. But it wasn't her fault. You knew she ment it when she said she was sorry.

You sighed and called your girlfriend.

"Guess who has to work even on her days off?" you said when she picked up

"She's gone already?"

"Yep. That was quicker than I thought... want to come over to keep me company?"

"Is that even a question? I'm on my way, wait for me baby"

You smiled at her words.

"Don't hang up, I want to talk to you on your way here"

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna tell me? Tease me?"

"Maybe..." you said innocently

The landline suddenly started ringing, making you jump.

"Shit"

"What's going on?"

"Landline. Who still uses this?" you mumbled

You walked to the phone and picked up, putting Tara on speaker so you could still hear her.

"Hello?"

"Is this uh... Y/n Riley?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

"You ordered something on our website, it should be there"

"Why do you call me for that?"

"Well... I think we send you the wrong package..."

"Y/n what's going on? Who is it?"

You texted your girlfriend about the situation while talking with the guy.

"I suppose you want me to check?"

"Yep"

"And uh... what did I ordered again? I don't remember"

"I think it was... a painful death."

You hang up immediately and let go of the phone. A voice changer. He was using a fucking voice changer.

"Baby! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah... just a stupid guy using a voice changer for a stupid prank..."

"Are you sure of that?"

The voice came from behind you. You turned around so quickly your neck hurt.

You felt your heart drop in your chest when you saw a tall, dark silhouette looking at you through a Ghostface mask.

"Hello, Y/n"

You were frozen in place, incapable of moving. The Ghostface took a step closer to you, tilting his head slightly, knife in hand.

That's when your legs came back. You ran as quickly as you could, trying to tell Tara on the phone.

"Tara it's Ghostface! Fuck I-"

You couldn't finish your sentence. He grabbed you violently by the waist, making you let go of your phone. It slid on the floor.

He stabbed your abdomen, a hand over your mouth. You let out a muffled scream, and tried to escape his strong grip.

You managed to bit his hand, hard. He kicked you forward, swearing under his breath.

You barely had time to grab a lamp nearby and turn around that he was already on you again, fingers wrapping around your neck, choking you.

You dropped the lamp as he lifted you up before pressing your back against the chimney. Breathing was becoming difficult. To make things better, he sank his blade into you again, twisting it painfully this time. Blood splattered on the floor.

You struggled against him, trying to get his hand off of your neck. But he was stronger than you, you couldn't do anything.

You reached behind you, desperate, when your hands found what you thought was a vase. With all the strength you still had, you slammed it on his head.

His stumbled backward, holding his head, letting you fall to the ground. You gasped for air but didn't waste more time and staggered up.

You tried to reach your phone on the way to the door, but you were pushed to the ground. You started crawling, tears flooding down your cheeks.

"Tara help!" you yelled, voice broken

Ghostface grabbed your hair and tugged your head backward harshly, one of his knees on your back to keep you on the floor.

"No one can save you. You will die alone, just like your father."

He slammed your head against the floor. You let out a cry which only grew bigger when he stabbed you on your side. He did it again. And again. And again. You were coughing blood at this point.

You didn't want to die. You couldn't die. You were screaming for help, crying and bleeding on the floor, Ghostface on top of you. You could still hear Tara's voice on the phone, a few meters away.

He pulled on your hair again, slamming your head on the floor once more. You started to feel dizzy. Everything was blurred around you, your ears were ringing.

So that's the end... you thought as he pulled your head back up.

"Tara..." you let out in a breath

He slammed your head back down again, harder than before.

I love you, was what you wanted to say. But everything turned black before you could open your mouth again.

When she arrived at your house, heart beating faster than ever, hands shaking, she saw him. Tall. Black costume. Bloody knife. He was running away.

Then her eyes fell on your body, lying in a pool of blood in your living room.

"Y/n!"

She ran to you, turning you around so you were on your back. Your face was covered in blood, fresh tears on your cheeks. She looked at you in horror. Her worst nightmare just became real.

Your necklace with her initial, stained with your blood, was hanging lazily around your neck, red from earlier.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks when she tried to take your pulse. She gasped when she felt it. She held your head with one hand, the other taking one of your own.

"Baby please stay with me... I called an ambulance it will be here any minute now..."

She had almost lost her voice from screaming when you were being attacked. Hearing you cry for help and not being able to to anything had killed her.

When the ambulance arrived, you were still unconscious in her arms. They forced her to back up while they were taking care of you. She didn't want to. She needed to be close to you. But they didn't let her.

From where she was, she could hear their conversation. It only made her heart ache.

"We're losing her! Get ready to shock her! 1, 2, 3, go!"

"She's losing too much blood!"

After what felt like an eternity, they put you on a stretcher into an ambulance. Tara made her way to you but was stopped quickly.

"You can't go further miss."

"Is she alive?" she asked, panicked

"She was clinically dead for 3 minutes. But we brought her back. Now if you want her to live have to take her to the hospital. And no, you can't come with us, we need to be by her side. You will see her at the hospital"

They left her here, crying on the sidewalk in front of your house. After a minute, she headed to the hospital, walking as fast as her legs allowed.

Once she was there, she was told she couldn't see you yet. She tried to argue, but that was useless. She "would only have to wait a little" as the lady said.

She took the opportunity to call your mother, your friends, and her sister to tell them everything.

The first to arrive was your mom, as expected. She seemed devastated. She got mad when she learnt she couldn't see you right now and started yelling at the lady before Tara dragged her away.

They had to wait half an hour before someone told them they could see you. You were still asleep, but your life wasn't in danger anymore.

Tara sat next to you and took your hand, stroking it gently, while Gale sat on the other side, watching you with tears in her eyes.

"... Can you watch her for a minute...? I have to tell Sidney..." she asked your girlfriend

"I'll call you if she wakes up"

She thanked her and got out of the room, taking her phone with shaking hands.

You would soon wake up, not believing you were still alive, and burst into tears in your girlfriend's arms only able to think about one thing; you had a killer on the hunt again.

[Next part]

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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nakedcows · 1 year

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dark! King Aemond x sister reader

Part 2

I'm still working on my next cult leader aemond chapter (here's a link if you haven't read it) , but it's taking a little longer than i thought to write (it's hard to write for a made up religion ;n;) so for now here's some dark aemond that's a little spicy. This one is a bit darker than my previous story so if you're sensitive to dark content maybe skip this one. p.s. I was inspired by @em-writes-stuff-sometimes "Terms of endearment" series so please go read her stories they're wonderful

please reblog and comment

warnings: dubcon, purity culture, abuse of power, fingering, grooming, using religion to take advantage of others, dead dove don't eat

Aemond developed an obsessive love for his youngest sister when she was little. Born the youngest child to a father already disinterested in his older children and a mother too young properly care for her, Y/n quickly learned to cling to her brother Aemond for everything. Often he would comfort her when she cried even when she was a babe. He would pet her hair and hold her tightly until she stopped crying whispering to her all the while how a perfect she was. But it was innocent then. There were no complex and conflicting feelings back then that contradicting what his mother had taught him.

Though Alicent was passive in her parenting she took great solace in the faith of the seven and wanted to give her children the same comfort. Alicent often prayed with her children particularly with her two youngest out of fear they will become vulgar like Aegon or too detached from reality like Helaena without it. With the visits to the high septon, the frequent prayer and study of holy text with their mother Y/n and Aemond became heavily invested in the faith of the seven. However despite the constant influx of the seven's teachings, Aemond's love for his sister began to morph into something more possessive something more obscene. As his little sister's body began to mature so did his feelings for her. A feeling that he knows the other boys in court will begin to develop for her the more she begins to age. When Aemond had turned three and ten Alicent had deemed him old enough to take the lead in Y/n's religious education and prayer. Aemond was elated at the news, he would have his dear sweet sister alone with him more often having her hang on his every word with her doe eyes. He quickly went to find Y/n to tell her the exciting new development. Y/n wasn't in their shared chambers nor was she with her septa or nursemaid so he went to find her at their spot in the gardens. It was a small secluded part of the garden shrouded behind heavy bushes and trees with low hanging branches. It was where they went to be alone with each other. Where she would stroke his hair while he laid in her lap half asleep. Sometimes Y/n would sit behind him brushing his hair to braid flowers into it while he read great tales of old Valyria aloud to her. It was an intimate spot. It was their spot. However when Aemond finally arrived in their secret paradise Y/n was not alone. Y/n sat underneath their droopy tree with a boy in her lap. It was that filthy northern boy Cregan Stark laying in his spot on her lap. He had a putrid smile on his face as he looked up Y/n his Y/n. How dare that welp taint his spot. Taint his privacy. Taint his sister

"Y/n! What are you doing?" Aemond shouted swiftly snatching his little sister up by her wrist. Cregan fell from Y/n's lap smacking his head on the ground before jumping to his feet.

"What do mean? we were only sitting," Y/n said.

"He was in your lap Y/n!" Aemond shouted once more tightening his grip on her wrist.

"So what if he was, you've sat in my lap before," Y/n huffed glowering at her older brother.

"And what do you think mother would say if she saw you with a boy in your lap?" Aemond asked. Y/n fell silent her eyes dropping to her feet.

"Must you make such a racket?" Cregan said. He had his arms folded staring down at Aemond.

"If she wishes to sit in the garden with a boy then who are you to object? Or perhaps you have become too familiar with being one alone with her and are afraid my hands will begin to wander as yours have," Cregan continued. Aemond stepped to Cregan getting in his face his own seething.

"You northern dogs may hump each other as you please, however I will not allow my sister to be subjected to your depravity," Aemond said. Without giving Cregan opportunity to make a comeback Aemond dragged Y/n out of the garden and into their chambers.

"Stay away from that Stark boy Y/n!" Aemond shouted tossing her into the room.

"Why Aemond!? He is merely a friend!" Y/n shouted back her voice beginning to waver. Aemond did not yell at her often. He would occasionally raise his voice at her when her mind began to wonder during prayer, but her conviction always fell short when he shouted.

"He was not laying in your lap because he thinks you friendly Y/n!"

"How would you know? I do not want him for anything else nor does he want me," Y/n said her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Aemond let out a long slow breath. He walked briskly to Y/n gingerly holding her face.

“You sweet silly girl. Do you not see that he’s trying to trick you. He means to steal your purity to ensnare you with kind words and gentle touches before forcing you down by your pretty neck and snatching away your virtue.”

"T-that's not true," she said. Aemond's face darkened as his grip on her face started to tighten. He grabs her roughly by the hair and forced her to her knees in front of the small alter in the corner of their room. Y/n was forced to pray to the maiden for forgiveness the rest of the day for allowing a boy the opportunity to sully her virtue.

Now that Aemond was given charge of her religious education her lessons quickly become less about the proper practice of the faith in favor of obeying him in every aspect. For who else but her big brother can properly show Y/n how to protect her purity in the ways of the seven. Aemond uses the Maiden to comfort and shame her often saying things like: “Be careful of where your eyes wonder. Don’t forget the Maiden is watching” Aemond frightens her greatly about interacting with any man no matter how small or platonic.

“Be careful of the stable boys sweet sister it would be wise to pray for the Maiden’s protection before you go to mount your horse.” As they began to grow from children to a man and woman grown Aemond had dresses specially made for Y/n having the rest of her dresses disposed of. Aemond calls them her maiden dresses; they were dark green dresses that cover her whole body leaving no exposed skin. When Y/n began to wear them she had complained they were too uncomfortable and stiff for her, but Aemond pacified her saying: The Maiden had shown him the dress in a dream and told him it would help remind Y/n of her virtue and to keep her safe. But in reality he had them made because it was becoming onerous to fight the temptation not to touch her during prayer. Unfortunately despite his efforts he finds her all the more enticing. A perfect pure maiden wearing her special dress just for him.

When it came time for king Visery's heir to take the throne the dance of the dragon ensued. Rheanyra and Deamon had fallen in battle and Aegon was missing in action, leaving Aemond to claim the throne. With every family member that stood in the position Aemond had coveted now dead he believed that the result of the war was not merely a fight for rightful succession, but was an act of the new gods will. The pull of the seven's power, mercy, and justice had given him his crown, and Aemond wanted everyone to know of the power the seven had gifted to him. Aemond had every bit of the red keep covered with religious symbols of the seven. Although Aemond finally had everything he wanted, the right to the iron throne and his little sister entirely to himself, it wasn't enough. There were still wandering eyes from of the lords in court, young men asking for Y/n to dance during banquets, and copious amounts of letters asking for her hand. He needed to protect her keep her safe from the greedy hands of men and so Aemond locked Y/n away in the maiden vault indefinitely.

Though Y/n begged and pleaded with Aemond not to lock her away from the world Aemond was her protector he knew better. Knew of the cruel world that saw her purity and wanted to sully her body the way he did, but lacked restraint that tended to slip more times than he wanted to admit. However, six moon turns of leaving Y/n in the vault with no one but septas for company had left Aemond feeling lonely. He shared his meals with her and they still prayed together, but it wasn't enough. He missed her sweet voice welcoming him when he returned to their chambers. Her gentle touches as she brushed his hair and the way she kissed his forehead before wishing him a goodnight. Aemond needed it he craved it and when Y/n wrote him a heartfelt letter about how dearly she had missed seeing him everyday when he had become too busy keeping peace within the seven kingdoms to visit her, Aemond was no longer able to deny her. Y/n was permitted to live in her shared chambers with Aemond once more with the condition that she was to be accompanied with her ladies in waiting whenever she left the room and a knight to protect her. But the most important rule she was given and reminded of everyday was that she was to have no contact with men. She was not to talk, send letters, nor make eye contact with a man if Aemond was not present. Word of princess Y/n's new found freedom had spread across the seven kingdoms. Letters began to flood into the Red Keep once more asking for her hand. Aemond of course disposed of them without bothering to read the offers properly or making Y/n aware of them, for no lord no matter his wealth or connections was worthy of his sweet sister. But one day when Aemond was away with Vaghar attending to matters in the Vale one particular letter arrived addressed to Y/n. A letter written by her old dear friend Cregan Stark. Y/n wasn't sure if she should open the letter when it arrived, but it couldn't hurt to at least read it could it. Aemond said she wasn't permitted to write a letter to men and this was merely reading so there was no real harm. And Cregan had always been so gentle and kind to her. Kind the way Aemond was, but when he held her hand the way her brother did whispered kind things in her ear the way he did it always made her heart race. Cregan was gentle with Y/n in a way Aemond tried to imitate but wasn't able to replicate. Cregan complimented Y/n in a way that didn't make her feel as though she was only desirable as long as she was pure and had the naivety of girlhood. She only ever felt the value her septa had told her she would feel by staying pure when Cregan was with her. Cregan made Y/n feel as though he would cherish her even if an unruly man had tainted her. When Y/n had nightmares of wild men chasing her down and stealing her virtue, while in the Maiden Vault, those memories of Cregan were the only thing to quell her frightful tears. Y/n opened Cregan's letter and nearly cried at what he had written.

"My dearest Y/n, I was gladder than a bard with a new tale to sing at banquets when I heard of your release. I have dreamt of you since that intimate moment we shared together in the garden. The gods seemed it fit to have kept us apart for so long, but I cannot tolerate our estranged relationship any longer. While I wish you would give me the honor of courting you the mere rekindling of our friendship would be the greatest honor you could give me. Sincerely yours, Cregan" Y/n held his letter to her heart smiling dreamily. She couldn't believe he had remembered her that he had thought of her fondly after all these years as she him. Y/n had often feared that Cregan had forgotten her and a finer sweeter lady with the freedom to be with him had caught his fancy. But he still cared for her, still felt for her, still longed for her, and she would not allow for several more years to pass her by without reaching out for him. Y/n would wait until Aemond's next expedition before writing Cregan for he would be returning to Keep this evening and she could not risk Aemond intercepting or inquiring about the raven she would send heading north. Y/n hid Cregan's letter under the mattress so she could reread it over and over while fantasizing of the day they would meet in person again. Later that evening Y/n went out to the gardens for her daily walk with her many attendants when she is suddenly interrupted by 2 kingsguards.

"Princess the king has requested your presence immediately," one said. She was quickly escorted to her shared chambers with Aemond. Opening the door she was greeted by Aemond standing near the fire place next to the chaise.

“Ah sister due come in,” he said. He had a gentle small smile on his face, one that was supposed to be disarming, but Y/n could hear a twinge of ire in his voice. After closing the door she stood in the middle of the room unmoving not saying a word staring into her brother's eyes.

“There’s no need to be stiff my dear. I am the only one present come and sit." he said walking smoothly towards her and taking her hand. He guided her to the chaise next to the fire and gently pushed her shoulders for her to sit. Taking both of her hands in his while keeping eye contact, Aemond looked down at Y/n and gave her a gentle smile. A kind smile and deceivingly comforting touches, things that many would have been calmed and reassured by, but Y/n knew better. When Aemond was especially calm and gentle with her it meant she had done something to displease him.

“My sweet beautiful sister do you know why I’ve called for you?” She swallowed and took a quick breath before quietly answering.

“No," Aemond hummed and began to stroke her trembling hands with his thumbs. Aemond reached into the pocket and pulled out the letter Cregan had sent.

“Word reached me dear sister that an…old friend of yours had sent a letter," Y/n's eyes began to water. Feeling as though her chest began to fill with lead preventing her from breathing properly.

"Did you hide this from me sweet girl?"

"Yes."

"Yes," he repeated softly watching the tears fill his sister’s eyes as she stared at the letter. Aemond sighed releasing her hands standing to his full height.

“It seems that even with the restrictions I have made for you the vipers will always find ways to slither between the cracks. Perhaps it is time for you to return to your room in the Maiden Vault," Y/n could no longer hear her heart pounding in her ears, nor could she think properly. All that she could feel was the burning dread of returning to that room. That lonely quiet room where not even her fellow ladies permitted to visit. She would have nothing to read but books about the faith of the seven and no access to anything outside of the confines of her room other than a high window too tall reach. She would be isolated other than the short visits from her brother. There was no freedom in that room. There were no pleasant conversations with her ladies there. No banquets in the great hall. No lessons with her septa. No relaxing walks in the gardens. No naps under the droopy willow with Aemond. In that room in that prison there was nothing.

“No… no! Brother please don’t send me away again!” The princess began to weep uncontrollably while Bealor kept his sickly sweet smile

“I’m afraid that I have no choice sweet girl. You’ve already overstepped and allowed yourself to be sullied,” he said as he began to toward an old small chest in the corner of the room. It contained her old maiden gown. He had promised she would never have to wear again as long as she obeyed him. The princess fell to knees in front of her brother grabbing at his tunic as she desperately tried to keep him from the chest.

“No brother please! I haven’t done anything with him I have not even written back him I swear it!” Even with her burst of tears and panic Aemond’s face is calm. Without worry and that same gentle smile on his face.

“Do you not remember what I taught you. Older brothers can only love their little sisters if they’re good girls who listen, but you haven’t been a good girl have you?"

“I’m still a good girl brother please I promise I am! I've only read the letter I haven't done anything else please!"

"You know the only reason you were permitted out of the vault was if you remained pure and obeyed. How can trust that you’re still pure now that you’ve disobeyed me?”

"I’m still pure!! I have not allowed anyone to touch me. Please i swear it brother!" Aemond looked down at his sister and couldn’t help but think that she never looked more perfect. His sweet pure sister was always so beautiful. Even when she was little he thought she had the prettiest smile, with the most enticing lips, and comeliest figure. Her big eyes filled with innocence that he wanted all for himself. But here and now with Y/n clinging to him. Desperate for him. Desperate for his approval for his pure love. On her knees begging him as if she would die if he didn’t believe her. Those same innocent eyes now overflowing with tears looked…intoxicating.

"Prove it to me," Aemond said gingerly taking Y/n's face in his hands.

"W-what?"

"Prove to me dear heart that you have remained pure," Aemond said his smile contorting into a smirk.

"I-I don't know how," Y/n said.

"Would you like for me to show you?" Y/n nodded quickly. That's his good girl always eager to please him even when she didn't know how.

"Lay on the bed for me my dear and lift your skirts," Y/n hesitated and looked up at him confused.

"Would you rather I assume the worst and have you spend the night in the vault?"Aemond asked raising an eyebrow. Y/n leaped to her feet and made her way to the bed lifting her skirts. Aemond hummed as he strolled to the bed gazing at his sisters spread legs. He was finally able to see her all of her and she was desperate for him to look.

"I will need to inspect your womanhood to reassure that you have kept your virtue intact," he said. Aemond grabbed the hem of Y/n's small clothes and carefully slipped them from her body. No one had ever looked at Y/n's womanhood before she was frightened to look at it herself at times. Afraid of the temptation that would lead to the lost of her purity Aemond so often warned her about. Aemond felt the front of his pants tighten as he gazed at Y/n's cunt finally bare before him. He kneeled in front of her and gave her pearl a kiss. Y/n felt her breath hitch as a new sensation flooded her senses.

"Aemond!" she gasped sitting up a bit. Aemond reached up and pushed her back down to the bed and hushed her.

"It is alright sweet sister this is what it feels like when someone who loves you touches your most intimate places," he said. Aemond gave a long slow lick from the bottom of Y/n's entrance to the top love bud drawing a moan from her as she arched her back. He then began to make small circles on her pearl occasionally adding pressure.

"A-Aemond please," she moaned.

"Hush dear heart I have to inspect every part to make sure it has remained untouched by unworthy hands," he said.

Aemond returned to her throbbing core and sucked on her pearl while gingerly inserting a finger in her entrance. Y/n eyes began to roll back as she rolled her hip into Aemond's face. Soon after Aemond added a second finger then thirds thrusting them into her core faster and faster as nervous moans turned into shrieks of pleasure. Y/n began to feel tension in her belly. A knot tide too tightly about to snap.

"Aemond! Aemond!" she cried out.

"Ssshhh you're alright sweet girl I have you," he said. Aemond pumped his fingers while sucking harder on her bud. Aemond felt her cunt contracting around his fingers and releasing before finally squeezing his fingers tight as though she wanted to trap them inside her core. Y/n shrieked as that knot in her stomach finally snapped spilling her slick all over Aemonds fingers. Aemond left his fingers inside and gently licked at her pearl easing her through her orgasm. Y/n breathed heavily her head empty other than the endless pleasure her brother had just racked through her body. Aemond slowly removed his fingers staring wistfully at his fingers now coated with his sisters slick.

"You have done well Y/n. The peak and tension within your core of pure woman," he said. Aemond climbed onto the bed leaning over Y/n as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Here my dear taste your purity savor the delight of your pure cunny," he said pushing his hands still wet with Y/n's slick to her mouth. Y/n eagerly opened her mouth and moaned around his fingers; closing her eyes as she relished in the taste of her own spend.

"Good girl. my pure sweet girl," he said kissing her cheek. Aemond removed hid fingers from Y/n's mouth smirking at the a wanton whine she let out.

"All you have to do now is promise me whenever you feel that preassure in you core that you will come to me so that I may relieve it," he said. Aemond pressed his head against Y/n's gazing into her eyes still dazed from her first peak.

"I promise," she said. Aemond leaned in kissing her deeply stroking her face.

"That's my good girl," he said. Aemond pulled Y/n to his chest gently stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she fell asleep.

#dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark aemond targaryen #dead dove do not eat #smut #hotd au #hotd smut #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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sissylittlefeather · 4 months

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long! I have a hard time writing sometimes, but y'all keep me inspired and I thank you for it. ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Special thanks to @ccab for loving this series so much that I can't abandon it. This one's for you, baby.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, AND DRINKING, POSSIBLE ALCOHOLISM, and ANGSTTTTTT

Word count: ~3.5k

There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

When your alarm goes off the next morning you roll over and groan, turning it off haphazardly. Elvis has been awake for a while, watching you sleep. He knows today might be rough for you, but he has a question that's burning in his mind and just won't go away. Seeing you last night has him worried about your wellbeing.

"You alright, honey?"

"Mmm. No." You groan and snuggle into his chest. Your hangover has your head pounding and your stomach rolling over. You want nothing more than to sleep in his arms for the next 24 hours, but he seems determined to wake you up.

"You need food. Come on." He tries to get you out of the bed, but you don't move.

"Later. I need sleep."

"Y/n, it's almost noon." You laugh.

"So much for my 10:30 class."

"Come on, honey. We gotta get up."

"Why??" You whine and snuggle under the covers again.

"Because we need to talk." This gets your attention. It doesn't sound like he has a good talk in mind. Has he had enough of you? You should've known this was coming. You've been a mess for almost two years now. It makes sense that he would notice it and want to cut ties as soon as possible. Making a portal will be difficult if he doesn't love you or even like you anymore. You sit up and grimace.

"Talk about what?"

"Let's just go get some food." Somehow, you manage to slink out of bed and get some clothes on. You know you must look terrible, but you don't care. It matches the way you feel, both physically and emotionally. He's not even gone yet and you already miss him.

About twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a booth at a local breakfast place and he waits for you to finish as many fried potatoes as you can stomach before he comes back to his question.

"Y/n, I told you we need to talk about something."

"I know. You're ready to leave and never come back, aren't you?"

"What? No. The exact opposite. I'm worried about you."

"About me? Why?"

"Are you happy?"

"Right now?" You look around the restaurant and consider your current level of happiness.

"No. When I'm not here. Are you... are you okay?" You look down at your hands. So he has picked up on the fact that you're not doing so great. You think for a long time before you answer him. Should you be honest and tell him that you've been miserable every day for almost two years? Or should you act like everything is fine, so he'll go back through the portal to his own life? You look back up into his eyes and know you can't lie.

"No. I'm not." He grabs your hand where it sits on the table and watches as your eyes fill with tears.

"That's what I was afraid of. It's my fault isn't it?" He rubs small circles on the back of your hand.

"No, Elvis it's not you. I just should never have left you alone. I know how much it hurt you. I'll regret it forever." A single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, no. You had to go. We didn't know any other way. I understand that. I don't blame you for anything." He stands up and scoots in next to you on your side of the booth as the tears start to stream down your face and your shoulders quake with the intensity of your sadness. You feel his arm wrap around you and he holds you as tightly as he can without hurting you. You cry and cry into his chest and it feels like all the pain from the last two years finally has some release.

He holds you and looks at the ceiling trying not to let his own tears fall. His resolve to never leave you gets stronger and stronger. How could he when he knows how badly you need him?

******

You spend the next week together and slowly you start to feel better. His presence is reassuring and almost healing. Knowing that he's forgiven you does wonders for your depression. Still, every time he ignores a portal, a small part of you worries that he might be missing his last chance. You know he has to go back. He has to become the man the world knows. And as much as you want to keep him here, you know he can't stay forever.

On Friday, one of your friends invites you to a party at his house. Elvis is nervous about you drinking again, but he agrees to come along just to be with you. Before you head over, your friends come over to pre-party like always. The shots of Fireball start to go around again and Elvis throws back two just to try to ease his nerves about how the night will go. He has a bad feeling, for some reason, but the Fireball helps.

By the time you get to the party, you're both pretty relaxed and ready to have a good time. You stay together and mingle with the other party guests. When you decide it's time for a second drink, though he tries to stop you gently.

"Y/n, are you sure? Remember how you felt on Monday?" You stop and look up at him surprised.

"I'm sorry; are you my dad now?" He rolls his eyes as you walk away to get another drink. He follows close behind you.

"No, I'm just sayin' maybe you don't really wanna do this again." He steps in between you and the bar. "You know I love you. I just want what's best for you."

"Ha. Okay. How about this: I'll listen to you when you start listening to me about leaving." The alcohol in your system makes you brazen. You can't ignore it anymore.

"That is not the same at all, honey."

"Except it is. I know what's best for you, you know what's best for me. Now, let me get a drink, please." The thought of sending him through the portal inspires you to drink even more, but you know it has to be done. Maybe if you push him away now, it'll be easier for both of you. He steps out of the way to let you walk up to the bar. To your surprise, he gets himself another two shots of Fireball. This may not end well for either of you. When you get away from the bar, he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. You think back to your earlier plan to push him away. Despite the unbelievable comfort you find in his embrace, you know now is the time.

"You know, you don't always have to stay with me. You can walk around and talk to people. I'm fine." He looks down into your face, shocked.

"Doll, I'm perfectly happy to stay right here. Fore-"

"Don't say it." You interrupt him before he can. This whole situation is breaking your heart and you just need him to get it over with and go. Before either of you can say anything else though, your friend, Zach, that lives at the house calls to him.

"John! What's up, man?" He pats him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis quickly rearranges his face to hide everything he's feeling as a result of your conversation. Sometimes you forget he's such a talented performer, but watching him change like this brings it all back to you.

They chat for a bit about music, since Zach was present for Elvis's karaoke success and he plays the guitar himself. Somehow the conversation ends with Zach fetching two guitars from his bedroom.

"Hey, yo, cut the music!" Zach hollers to no one in particular. The party music stops and the jam session begins. Luckily, Zach is an Elvis fan and there's a good number of songs they can play together. When Elvis starts to sing, you notice something you haven't before: the other girls. He certainly has their attention as they stand in various states of attraction. Some giggle, some blush, and some simply stand with their mouths slightly open. You look back at him and he's eating it up. Maybe it's the alcohol, but maybe it's just who he is. You shouldn't be surprised. You've read about him and his ways with women. It's different to see it in action when he's supposed to be with you, though. A few of them come close to him and sit down around him and he sings directly to them with a flirty smile. When he winks at your friend Stephanie, you turn away and head to the bar. There's only one guy back there, since everyone else is busy watching the music taking place in the living room.

"What're you drinkin'?"

"I don't care. Give me a shot of anything."

"A girl after my own heart." He smiles and you notice he's actually really cute with his round blue eyes and sandy brown hair fixed in a faux hawk. You take the shot that he hands you and smile in return.

"Thanks. I'm y/n." You reach out to shake his hand and he kisses yours gently.

"I'm Jeff. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He's a little dorky, but you're kind of into it.

"You're not an Elvis fan, I take it?" He asks.

"Ha, no that's not exactly... I just... it's hard to explain."

"No worries. We can talk about something else. What's the best concert you've ever been to?"

Your conversation continues while Elvis plays in the living room. He looks up from the throng of girls that has gathered around him to try to find you, but you're nowhere to be found. He turns back to Zach and hands him the guitar.

"Thanks, that was fun. I've gotta find my girl, though." The party music starts back up and the girls close in on him to try to get him to dance, or more, but he gently brushes them off. He's getting more and more nervous about your whereabouts. When he finds you, you're doing another shot with Jeff. After you finish it, you lean your head on his shoulder and laugh. You've had more than enough alcohol and you're clearly not thinking straight. Elvis stands there in shock for a good thirty seconds before he walks up to you.

"Are you having fun?"

"Oh shit, it's my boyfriend." You giggle and pop your head up.

"Something like that." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you over to him. "Come on, it's time to go."

"Maybe I don't want to leave. Maybe I want to stay here with Jeff." You gesture to the guy at the bar. Elvis's eyes burn with something you haven't seen before. It's a kind of possessive anger and jealousy and you should know not to push him. But you're drunk and sad and want to push him away, so you double down. "Maybe you should take one of your fangirls home."

"Oh shit." Jeff says and laughs out loud. Elvis turns to him and grabs the front of his shirt.

"Give me an excuse, fucker." This sobers you significantly and you step in between them facing Elvis.

"Babe, don't. Okay? I'll go with you." You almost called him Elvis in front of all these people, but you caught it at the last second. Still, the pet name seems to pull him back down to earth and soften him. He lets go of Jeff's shirt and puts his arm around your shoulders.

"Let's get the hell outta here." He guides you to the exit, forgetting that you drove and shouldn't drive home. He digs your keys out of your purse and gets you settled in the front seat. Then, he slides into your seat behind the steering wheel. He knows how to drive a car, obviously, but this is not any kind of car he's familiar with. It takes him a good ten minutes, but he eventually figures out the push-button start and how to adjust your mirrors and seat with the electric controls. While he's doing all of that, all you can do is look out the window and cry quietly. You know what needs to happen tonight. And more importantly, you know what you're sending him back to. Or rather, who you're sending him back to. He'll fall in love a few times and none of them will be with you. And then he'll get married. That won't be you either. You can't live like this anymore. You have to let him go. And the very thought of that damn near breaks you.

"Hon? What's wrong?" He's finally figured out how to drive your car and noticed that you're crying.

"You have to leave. Tonight."

"What the hell? Because of the other girls? Look, I'm sorry about that. But I don't want any of them. I don't want anyone but you." He reaches out and touches your face and it just makes you cry harder.

"No, not because of that."

"Then let's just forget about it. I'm not going anywhere." You ride the rest of the way in silence with his hand in yours, tears still sliding down your face.

Finally, you get back to your house and you've managed to stop crying. He comes around to your side to help you out of the car. You're so exhausted from the events of the evening that he half-carries you to your room.

When you make it inside, you stand in your room just looking at each other. He leans down and kisses your mouth gently. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss, putting every emotion you're feeling into the movement of your tongue against his. He snakes his arms around your waist and holds you close, pushing your hips into his. You feel his erection growing and swallow the lump in your throat. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"You're not too drunk for this?"

"I'm really not. I promise." He sees how clear your eyes are and knows you're telling the truth, so he goes back to kissing you. You know you'll need to have sex with him to do what needs to be done. But the fact that this is probably the last time you will hits you squarely in your chest and settles there.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head and you do the same with his. He presses his chest to yours and puts his hands behind your back to undo your bra. For the first time, he manages to get it off all by himself.

"Ah ha! I got it!" He's so excited that he tosses your bra to the side and lifts you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. You grab onto him and hold him a little too tightly. He lays you down on the bed, climbing in next to you, and puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Doll, what's wrong? Please tell me." You search for something you can tell him that won't give away your plan.

"I'm just sad again. Ignore me."

"You know I can't do that. Do you not want to do this?"

"No! I want to! I need it. Please." He remembers how you were there for him when he needed you and nods.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He runs his hand down your neck to your chest, massaging your breast gently. Then, he keeps going down to your hip, pulling you into him. He kisses down your neck and slides his hand under your pants and down to your center. Teasing your entrance with his finger, he gathers some of the wetness gathered there and begins to massage your clit. You moan softly and your hips buck forward into his hand.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"God, yes."

"Good. I just wanna make you feel good tonight." You whimper as he pulls his hand out to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs and off. He makes his way back up to your center, pressing hot kisses to your legs along the way. When he gets back up to the place where your thighs come together, he presses a kiss to you through your panties. He pulls them off too and pushes his mouth onto you, settling his tongue on your clit. He licks up each side and then begins to move over and around it in the way that only he can.

"Yes! Elvis!" You moan loudly and run your fingers through his hair.

"That's my good girl." He says it quickly and goes back to licking you. You feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your center as he laps at you, moving down to slide his tongue into your slit periodically. Finally, he slips two fingers into you and pushes them in and out quickly while he tightens his tongue and drags it over your clit repeatedly.

"Oh God! I'm gonna come!" You whisper breathlessly.

"Do it, baby, come for me. I wanna feel you." Just as he ends his sentence, you feel the burst of your orgasm take off and reverberate across your body.

"Ohhhhhh, fuck, yes." You moan through gritted teeth as you pulse around his fingers. He smiles and kisses your clit one last time before taking his pants off.

The thing that's settled in your chest threatens to come screaming out of you and you feel the tears begin to gather again. As he climbs back up your body, you grab him and pull him into a kiss, hoping you can distract him from the fact that you're almost crying again. You press your forehead to his with your eyes closed and whisper.

"Make love to me, Elvis." He pulls back and looks you in the eye. Something is wrong and he knows it.

"Do you know how much I love you, y/n?"

You nod and lose control of the tears as they run down your cheeks. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, please. I need to know you love me." He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes into you slowly. When he fills you fully, he pulls back and slides into you again.

"I love you more than I ever thought was possible." He kisses your cheek and thrusts into you again. "I love you so much that I don't even feel like I'm fully myself without you." Your voice catches in your throat.

"Please don't say that."

"Y/n, I love you with everything that I am." He continues to push into you slowly, picking up speed with each thrust. You grab him and hold him tightly while he moves against you. You wrap your legs around him and try to get as close to him as possible. If you could, you'd melt into him completely and stay with him forever. But you can't and you know that. So instead you hold him and cry silently as he drives into you as gently and lovingly as possible.

"I'm gettin' close, doll." You nod and he kisses the tears on your cheeks. He begins to pump in and out faster before he reaches his climax and moans loudly, shuddering into you. He pulls out of you and rolls over, cradling you against his chest.

When you hear the buzzing sound, you squeeze him tight and then stand up. Your hands are shaking and the tears continue to flow.

"Get up, Elvis. You have to get dressed."

"What? No. I told you-"

"Do you want to go through naked?!" You yell at him and he stands up ready to fight you on this.

"I'm not going! I'm staying here with you forever, y/n! I can't leave you. You're the love of my life."

"No. I'm not. You have to go back to her. You have to get married and be a dad. I can't take those things from you." You toss him his pants and he puts them on without thinking.

"Then I'll marry you. I'll have babies with you. That's what I want anyway!"

"You can't. Elvis, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. You know I will always love you, right?"

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For this." You shove the rest of his uniform into his hands and push on his chest with both hands as hard as you can. You manage to catch him off guard just enough and he stumbles backwards, falling through the portal.

"Nooo!!" You hear him yell as he disappears.

The portal closes with a pop.

You fall to the floor and sob openly.

******

Back in 1960, Elvis falls backwards onto the floor of the train station and scrambles into the bathroom. He manages to get his uniform back on and then slides down the wall, tears streaming down his face.

What will happen to you without him?

Will he ever see you again?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will there be a next chapter?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

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Chapter 14: A Hen In The Fox House

Your day started out as normal as it could be, considering you were the First Lady. You had breakfast with Bradley and talked about what you had planned for the day. You just happened to leave out one tiny detail.

After preparing for the day, you texted Jaycee to let her know what your real plan for the day was. Normally, you wouldn't, but you had this gut feeling that someone should know where you were going to be.

You made your way to the garage where your newly assigned agent, Alex, was waiting for you. Alex was sweet. He was maybe a year or two older than you and strangely— familiar. His face was one that you almost recognized but couldn't quite place.

After loading up in the car, he drove you to a few of the locations to complete your errands. Around lunch, you had him drop you off three doors down from where you really needed to go. You didn't want him, or anyone else knowing what you were really doing.

Your leg bounced nervously while you were waiting in the office for your name to be called. Once it was, you were taken back to a private room. You took a deep breath, praying your suspicion was true.

An hour later, Alex picked you up on the same corner he'd dropped you off at. You excitedly texted Jaycee from the backseat before tucking your phone and your surprise for Bradley away.

Alex merged into traffic as you headed back towards the White House. You watched the buildings and monuments go by. You couldn't wait to get home to tell Bradley the news.

You saw the turn for the garage approaching, but instead of making it, Alex drove right past it.

"Alex," you called to him. "You missed the turn. The south entrance is closed. We need to go in the east one." You told him. Instead of answering, he kept his eyes on the road before blowing past the road to the south garage entrance and taking a sharp turn.

"Alex, it's okay if you're lost, I know the roads can be confusing. Take a right up here." You directed him, but still no answer. You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach. Something was off. This didn't feel right.

"Alex. Alex, are you listening to me?" You asked him.

"Alex. Alex! Stop the car! I want to get out!" You shouted as you desperately pulled on the locked door handles.

"Alex! Please!" You beg, but yet again, he ignored you. You grab your phone and try to send a message, but it's no use. You don't have any signal.

"If you're trying to call for help, don't bother, I have a signal jammer on." Alex finally speaks as he looks at you through the rear view mirror.

"Alex, please. I don't know why you're doing this, but you don't have to. Please. Just take me home or just let me out. I can wire money to you or someone else. Please. Please don't do this." You tell him as you fight the urge to cry.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw, but I have to do this." He says. "Now, you might want to get comfortable. We have a ways to go." He says before rolling up the privacy screen.

You beat on the screen and windows, but you know it's all in vain. They're blacked out and bulletproof. No one can see you or hear you.

You quickly dig in your purse and find a pen and note pad. You write down everything that you can see and hear. You also write a quick note to Bradley telling him you love him and how you're sorry you didn't get to tell him the good news in person.

You must have been driving an hour before the car exits and pulls into a rest stop. You have just enough time to write down the tag number of the car Alex pulls in beside and stuff your notes in your bag before you're pulled from the vehicle.

A masked figure has a tight hold on you. You're kicking and screaming and clawing, trying to break free. "Take her bag and toss it. Don't want them tracking her phone." The figure says. You recognize the voice but can't place it.

"Stop struggling you bitch." They tell you before you feel a set of zip ties tightened around your wrists.

If you get free, you try to make yourself dead weight. You drop to the ground. Alex and the other attacker try to lift you but are unsuccessful.

They try to put you back on your feet, but you don't get up. Alex and the figure are practically dragging you through the empty parking lot.

"Let me go!" You scream, praying someone is close enough to hear.

"Shut up! Alex, get me the stuff." The figure commands. Before you can determine what they are talking about, a damp rag is placed over your mouth and nose, and then, it all goes black.

Alex and the masked person scoop you up and place you in the trunk of a car before getting in and driving away. Just as they are leaving, a silver Jeep pulls into the empty rest stop. The driver makes a comment to the passenger about how it was weird that someone had just left their car there.

It's almost five in the afternoon when a mysterious call comes into the White House. The person on the other end asks to speak to the head of the Secret Service.

Dante picks up the line. "Hello?" He asks. "Hello. Am I speaking to Dante Rodriguez?" The obviously disguised voice on the other end of the line asks.

"Yes. May I ask who I'm speaking to?" Dante asks.

"You may not. Dante, can you do me a favor? I need you to open the email that was just sent to you." The voice says. Dante looks at his computer to see a new message from an address that is a jumble of letters and numbers. He opens it and almost drops the phone.

It's a photo of you, unconscious and tied up, in the trunk of a car.

"Who the fuck is this?!" Dante screams into the phone. "I'm the president's worst nightmare. Now, please tell Mr. Bradshaw that I'll be calling again at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, and if he ever wants to see his wife alive again, he'd better not miss that call." The voice said before the line went dead.

Dante immediately slams his phone down and gathers the security team. He races down the hall to the Oval Office. Jake sees the commotion and decides to follow.

Went Dante burst into the Oval Office and delivered the news. It almost makes him sick.

He quickly assembles a search team. A team begins to track the email and the phone call. Another traces your phone. As soon as its last location is pinged, officers are dispatched. Jake calls Jaycee and personally goes to pick her up. If someone was bold enough to kidnap the First Lady in broad daylight, he wasn't going to take any chances with his girlfriend.

Jaycee paced nervously in Jake's bedroom as he filled her in on the situation. He explained that they were trying to retrace her last steps. "Jake, take me to whoever is in charge. There's something I need to tell them, and Bradley." Jaycee says. Jake nods before leading her to the situation room.

It's crowded with people. She tries to push her way to the front to speak, but she's cut off by Dante who comes in carrying something.

"Sir! We've found some of the First Lady's belongings. They were dumped in a rest area about an hour outside the city. Her phone, wallet, and a few other things were in there. There was also a note in there. She was smart, wrote down what she saw, and heard. Even got a tag number. But sir, there's something you should see." Dante says. He hesitantly hands Bradley an envelope.

Bradley grabs it and steps out of the room for a moment. He opens the envelope and pulls out a handwritten note from you. He reads it.

"My Dearest, Bradley. I love you more than you will ever know. I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you in person."

Tears prick his eyes as he reads it over and over again before pulling out what else is enclosed in the envelope. His heart drops when he sees it.

He walks back into the room, and everyone goes silent.

"I need everyone to make this priority number one." Bradley says in a series tone. "Because this just went from a rescue mission for one to a rescue mission for two." He finishes.

Before anyone can ask what he means, Bradley tosses something on the table. There's a collective gasp when people realize what it is.

"Holy shit." Someone says. Jake looks at Jaycee with wide eyes. "Jay, is that what I think it is?" He asks her.

Jaycee nods her head. "That's what I wanted to tell Bradley. Y/N she texted me telling me that she was going to the OBGYN today because she wanted to be sure. She texted me this after she left." Jaycee says as she shows Jake her phone.

"Oh my God." Jake breaths out. "She's pregnant."

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ghastlytofu · 7 months

Text

I listened to Kamina's "All The King's Horses" while writing this. If you feel like crying about Wyll today. :)

Titled 'joke's on you i'm into that shit' while it sat in my drafts and you know what..? Still applies. Consider this chapter one of at least two, prompt courtesy of @hiriaeth: "Wyll offering Astarion to feed but feeling guilty bcse it's not just about keeping Astarion healthy it's cause he's really into it for sexy and deeply personal reasons" and @mz-elysium's replies positing masochist Wyll. I can only hope I deliver.

This ended up being very introspective and soppy, slightly gory? And probably only sexy if you're an unholy but SOFT monsterfucker like me, so. Fair warning.

(Still working on my other prompts!)

They are knee-deep in gnolls, which is one thing - but the next, oh, before they've cleaned the blood off their blades they're set upon by what appear to be human slavers. Thayan, perhaps, though Wyll can't say for certain. Normally not much of a challenge for adventurers of their ilk - there are no Red Wizards among them, only the grunts and thieves that make their lives easier, but they are fresh off a much harder fight and haven't had time to rest when the first strike comes.

He keeps the location of his companions in mind as he casts Arms of Hadar, sending necrotic power surging menacingly towards his target. It finds it, he notes grimly as the man screams, and Wyll ducks and takes him with his rapier, bloodspray hitting the soft soil like rain. A few paces behind him Shadowheart's mace crushes the skull of an unfortunate rogue and she's rushing to aid Lae'zel, casting quick healing spells to treat what looks like a sprained or broken ankle and - he winces - some kind of acid burn running up her leg, effectively taking them out of the fight, at least for the moment.

Wyll moves to cover them. Successive eldritch blasts slam into the only archer left, felling him. There are at least three more melee combatants on the field, and that's if they don't have reinforcements. They have to move quickly. Lae'zel stumbles to her feet with Shadowheart's assistance, already swinging her greatsword and Astarion -

He hasn't seen Astarion, until now. Hasn't needed to; knew that he would've slipped into cover of darkness when first the fight began, and that he has. He takes one of their foes by surprise, his whirling daggers at their wicked work as one plunges into her heart, the other arcing across her throat. She falls.

There's screaming, and burning. Someone is on fire to his right - another of their enemies, and over the noxious stench of burning flesh and the rising smoke he sees their suffering ended with a swift strike of Lae'zel's massive sword.

There was one more, wasn't there?

He turns, but it's too late. The enemy is upon him, driven by desperation and fear at witnessing his fellows' violent deaths to strike wildly and carelessly, but it's enough at this range. He can't avoid the blade, can't think fast enough to make the mortal wound a minor injury, steels himself against the impact -

It doesn't come. Not like he expects. The blade bites through his armor and grazes his flesh, but he isn't skewered. He turns to see - Astarion, backlit by the afternoon sun, one hand gripping his would-be killer's hair and the other grasping his shoulder. Faster than Wyll can think, he's plunging his fangs into his attacker's strong neck.

Astarion has kept to his word all these long weeks. Animals and hostiles only, he'd promised, hand over his unbeating heart. And when those bodies inevitably fell in the heat of battle - throats torn, blood burbling through gaping wounds and into Astarion's eager waiting mouth -

Wyll watches the slaver struggle, watches his struggling cease. Astarion is - Astarion is drinking deeply, hungrily, Wyll can hear him swallowing greedily as he devours the man before him. A wicked man, a man who'd every intention of ending Wyll's life just moments ago. He has never seen it. Like this, before. It's too intimate. Through the faint sucking sounds, Wyll's - he finds himself staring at those teeth, and after a moment his one working eye meets Astarion's two, catching over the almost-limp body of his. Food.

He knows it's a mistake as soon as it happens - his head throbs with psionic energy, and Astarion's eyes go wide. He is still drinking as he sees-feels Wyll's morbid interest through their tadpoles: something beyond simple gratitude for thinning their enemies' ranks (as had happened in the past: with all professional gravitas, of course, "I appreciate you doing your part to ensure our little group lives to see another day," he'd say. "One hunter to another.")

But underneath. His tadpole squirms - underneath lies the heart of his fascination, and he knows Astarion is consuming it as surely as he's consuming their foe: for every time he's witnessed an enemy die in Astarion's arms, Wyll is alight with pity and envy in equally terrible measure, a heady concoction that flies in the face of everything The Blade of Frontiers stands for: Gods, I wish it were me.

The body falls. The spell breaks.

They return to camp.

There is no use beating around the bush.

With their illithid connection, he knows he's been had. There is no point denying it. He'll have to explain himself or risk being subjected to endless teasing - has to hope that Astarion is feeling particularly magnanimous tonight. Because.

He does want to help. He always has. He feels earnestly that Astarion shouldn't have to go hungry - that no one in their camp ought to go hungry - wading through uncertain days and nights when there was a ready supply of fresh food available. It was only practical.

And yet...

It gnaws at him, how much he wants it. How easy it is to get lost in the fantasy of those sharp canines penetrating his skin, his flesh and blood yielding to hungry ministrations. He imagines his own hot blood coursing through Astarion's body, warming him up. Of being the flush in his cheeks, the throbbing in his loins -

Well.

It's a recurring thought, suffice to say.

It burns within him - something hot and hungry that was stoked inside long before the Hells got their hands on him. He expects Astarion's face to be mocking when he confronts him at camp that evening, perhaps just this side of cruel - the man takes his petty pleasures where he can, and following the life he's lead Wyll can hardly blame him - but instead the rogue's looking at him thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he saunters forward. Considering.

"You know, dear," he says, keeping some distance between them. But not much. "This could be quite fortuitous for you and I," and he gestures between them, easy and graceful, as if there could be any doubt about whom he speaks.

Charming bastard. My, but he is in deep.

Astarion's voice hasn't fallen into a seductive register, as one might expect. The tone one supposes he would've - might've - used to entice innumerable patriars of the past.

Not that Wyll's thought about it.

But he does sound hungry. Underneath the civility, there's an edge. And Wyll is intensely aware of that gaze on him - of his own heart hammering away in his chest, a bird beating against the bars of its cage.

It's almost worse because he trusts Astarion. It would be so much easier if he didn't, if the vampire spawn were just another monster to slay. He could be righteous then, and not want, and not wonder.

But wonder he does, and Astarion's incessant teasing doesn't help. Oh, not that Wyll minds as such - finds him more charming than not, by and large an agreeable menace - but some words rattle in his brain more than others: Astarion admitting within three feet of him, bold as day that he'd favor a taste of Wyll's blood above all others. No question, he'd said, and hasn't that thought kept him up countless sweaty nights.

Perilous were the waters of flattery when the source was such a danger. And Astarion was dangerous - is dangerous, deadly even. And catty, and brave. Surprisingly sweet under all the bluster and defensive sarcasm. He's proven a steadfast ally and delightful company to boot, if a tad knife-happy. And even were that not the case, Wyll thinks. He's of no mind to condemn any creature that isn't actively preying on innocents.

He's not sure if he counts himself among them.

He's struck by the memory of a book he once read, tucked away in his father's study. Certainly not meant to be seen by his young prying eyes, The Salty Mermaid was as debauched as it was dramatic, the salacious and harrowing tale of the mermaid Allura, a beautiful and brave battlemaiden of the sea, and the hapless half-elven fisherman that loved her.

Descriptions of desire and alien anatomy - the salt spray painting the scales of the mermaid's tail, running in rivulets down her iridescent body, slick in secret places. Her lover's tongue tracing them tirelessly, feverish in his devotion to her pleasure. She was known. She was heeded.

To this day the memory of that damnable book inevitably has him swelling in his smallclothes, clenching his thighs in a hopeless attempt to alleviate the arousal that builds in him. He's never thought of himself as a man of peculiar tastes - has always considered himself rather old-fashioned in love, if he's being honest - but it leaves an imprint on his memory that's tied directly to the fire within him - a chord that resonates in every nerve of his body, plucked by Astarion's knowing smile.

He can see his fangs.

Drivel, his father had called it. But still Ulder kept it in his drawer, a shameful but coveted secret tucked away like so much hoarded treasure. An action that befuddled young Wyll at the time.

He thinks he understands it better, now.

He doesn't want to. Use. And that is the crux of it - this mad desire to be bitten feels at odds with his sincere desire to see Astarion well-tended to, however symbiotic they may seem on the surface, and this is the why of it:

Motive is important. He's always argued - staked his very soul on the principle - that intent matters. It's how he's justified seven years in Mizora's service. He signed that contract for the people, and that has to matter, because if it doesn't. If it doesn't, and his soul is damned for naught -

That thought threatens to consume him, or it would if given any chance of flourishing. Wyll does not let it see the light of day. He cannot afford to dwell on such things. So he doesn't.

What does he have that's his? His heart for the Gate, laying there at his father's feet. His soul to the Hells, and now his body: Mizora has taken them both. All he has is his duty to the Coast, and here is someone who needs him, plainly.

He steels himself. Swallows around his shame, and speaks. He owes his friend an explanation - and Astarion is his friend, despite the odds.

"It isn't- I don't want you to think that's why," he starts.

"And whyever not?" Astarion interjects, voice honey-tempered and calm. He is very still, and Wyll feels clumsy, inadequate. He is twenty-four and feels like a foal, stumbling and uncertain. He has never had this conversation before. Hardly understands that which he's so desperate to communicate.

"I want to help you," he says, somewhat helplessly. It feels pathetic. He feels pathetic. But it's-

"But you want it," it's not a question. Astarion's tone is sharp, leaving little room for doubt though his face is not unkind. He nods thoughtfully without waiting for Wyll's response, seeming to have come to some conclusion within himself.

"Yes," Wyll says anyway, because he owes the man an honest answer. It would not do to lie now. He doesn't squirm, but only because he's had a lifetime of uncomfortable confrontations eerily similar to this: he's six years old standing stock still in front of his father, fighting against his trembling legs. He's ten, he's fourteen, he's -

He's seventeen, and Ulder Ravengard says go.

Wyll banishes the thought from his mind, but not before Astarion shoots him a knowing look, surely experiencing echoes of his unwelcome ghosts via the parasites nestled in their heads. He sighs.

"What do you want from me, Astarion? Yes, it's tempting. I don't- it isn't a consideration I want you to place above your own needs. It doesn't matter. We can drop it," he offers.

There is a lengthy pause. He hears only insects in the distant night, his own blood rushing in his ears. There is the faint whisper of his breathing; Astarion's chest is still.

"Or we could not drop it," Astarion responds evenly. Steady. It is a second option. Astarion is giving him a second option.

Something in him buckles, and he takes a step forward. Astarion grins victoriously - excited, gleeful even, the prospect of what's to come lending to his countenance a certain joie de vivre seldom seen on the road. "My dear," he coos, fully stepping into Wyll's space now. "Consider how we might take care of one another." One hand winds about the back of his head, caressing a horn. The other lands on his shoulder and Wyll relaxes into the touch, a familiar gallantry, his arms coming up tentatively to rest on Astarion's waist, earning him a brilliant smile.

It is a peace offering, Wyll recognizes. A familiar script he can follow, and he sighs with relief and gratitude. He has the distinct impression that the other man is indulging him with such pageantry, letting him play the strapping hero come to this poor vampire spawn's rescue in his time of need, offering selflessly of his body, his blood, though it's clear to him now - in his honest heart - that the two of them are offering of one another.

Ebb and flow, he thinks. Like the sea, sure as the steady thrum in his veins.

He feels... quiet. Perhaps it's the thought that if he says it quietly enough, no one but Astarion will know. "Will it hurt?"

Astarion's cool lips are close to his ear. "Only a little, my sweet," he admits, voice soft. "But you may well enjoy that."

Wyll shivers.

"Worry not, O Blade," he says, nosing along what part of Wyll's jaw he can reach from where they stand. "I like that you like it. Do you think I'd rather be where I'm not wanted?" It's not quite a pout in his voice, but something like it. Wyll can hardly argue, so he nods, feeling discordantly shy.

Astarion steps back. Wyll feels suddenly bereft - cold, though his companion's body is not warm by any measure. But he only takes Wyll's hand, leading him out from under the awning and into his tent proper, pulling him down so that they're kneeling together in the faint light of the hanging lantern. Softly instructing Wyll to lay back, sweetling.

He does as he's told. His breath catches. Some monster hunter, he thinks, in a voice not unlike his father's. Considers this moment, considers countless others in his recent and not so recent past. Thinks of the horns on his head and the fork in his tongue.

The tent smells like Astarion. Blankets and pillows especially, but the dusty tomes, the neatly arranged bottles on a shelf are all evidence of his presence. It's not unpleasant. Faint jasmine perfume, and underneath, traces of blood-iron seem to permeate the air and every surface. Evidence of the not-quite-living. Or... no. Perhaps a different, but equally valid form of existing. It makes him shiver.

Wyll's glad they're not doing this in his tent. He can't bear the thought of laying awake every night in a puddle of his own desperate sweat, triggered endlessly by the inescapable scent-memory of this moment. Such occurrences happen often enough already.

He's splayed out like a meal, and with a dull sort of shock remembers he is one. Astarion's leaning over him now, haloed by the glow of the lantern, shadows cast against the canvas walls of their shelter. His pupils are wide and dark.

He's looking at Wyll like he sees him. Wyll meets his gaze, and with a sort of courage that doesn't remind him at all of the Frontiers, tilts his head back to bare his neck.

"How very considerate of you, darling," his companion murmurs. He draws one hand across Wyll's face - across his day old stubble, his chin, down the scarred line of his throat - pausing significantly at his pulse point, which thunders like a war drum, riotously loud in his ears, he can't imagine what Astarion hears - before continuing his trajectory downward to better brace himself against Wyll's shoulder.

Astarion gives it a squeeze before catching Wyll's eye once more. Seeking confirmation - assurance, perhaps, that Wyll is here with him. That he wants this.

He does, desperately. It is too late to play coy; he owes it to Astarion not to attempt such a thing. So he swallows, and nods, and lays an encouraging hand over Astarion's where it rests on his shoulder. For a moment he worries it's too much. Too tenuous a path to tread in this fragile moment, but Astarion does not pull away. The look that it earns him - Wyll cannot put a name to it. It feels tender and put-together, furious and fraying.

"Thank you," Astarion says, simply.

He leans in, and Wyll closes his eyes.

tbc

#they've invaded my brain like mindflayer tadpoles. i grow wyllstarion tentacles as we speak #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #wyll ravengard #astarion ancunin #wyllstarion #bloodpact #bloodfrontier #wyll ravengard x astarion ancunin #fanfiction #fic

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alwaysmoncheri · 7 months

Text

𝐋𝐄𝐓’𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ hawkins is saved by a group of middle school kids, a few teenagers, and two adults

warnings ❧ female!reader, swearing, shit writing, steve being a hero, mentions of death, guns/knifes/weapons in general, mentions of blood/gore, hurt, comfort, angst

word count ❧ 4.1k

additional notes ❧ the last actual plot chapter of season one

The lights start to flicker, as El searches for our missing friends. We all look around the gymnasium in confusion and worry.

"Barbra?" Eleven whispers, as her breathing begins to pick up, faster and faster.

Nancy and I glance at each other worriedly and lean forward over the pool, at the mention of our friend's name.

Eleven gasps before the lights shut off completely.

"What's going on?" Nancy asks, looking up at the lights confused.

"I don't know," Mike responds quietly beside his sister.

"Is Barb okay?" Nancy leans forward even more, trying to ask the girl, "Is she okay?"

"Gone! Gone! Gone!" El cries repeatedly as her body starts to squirm uncontrollably.

Nancy places her hand over her mouth, tears now flooding her eyes as Jonathan pulls her close in comfort. I grab her hand gently, squeezing lightly before letting go, my eyes too, filling with tears.

Barb is dead.

"It's okay, it's okay." Joyce whispers to the girl, "It's okay."

"Gone! Gone!" Eleven continues to cry before Joyce gently grabs her arm comfortingly.

"It's okay, it's okay," She repeats.

"Gone!"

I reach out, gently wrapping my arm around the girl's head, bringing it up to my chest. "Hey. It's okay," I whisper in El's ear, "It's okay, we're right here."

I glance at Joyce.

"We're right here, honey." She says to the panicked girl.

"It's okay, I got you." I repeat as Eleven continues to gasp, "Don't be afraid, I'm right here with you."

The intensity of Eleven's breathing seems to decrease slightly, and I release her, moving back to my spot next to Nancy. She and Jonathan look at me with concerned eyes, I send a reassuring smile back.

"It's okay, it's okay," Joyce repeats after I let go, "It's okay, you're safe. You're okay, honey."

Eleven's breathing finally evens out as she calms down from Joyce's comforting words in the pool before she speaks again.

"Castle Byers."

Joyce whips her head around to Jonathan who looks back with the same look in his eyes. The rest of us glance at each other too.

"Will?" Eleven whispers.

Joyce gasps.

"You tell him... tell him I'm coming." Joyce says desperately, "Mom is coming."

"Hurry." Will whispers weakly from the other end of the walkie-talkie.

We all turn our heads to stare at the radio with shocked expressions. Then switching our faces to a concerned look, we glance back at Joyce and Eleven in front of her as she desperately clings onto the girl.

"Okay. Listen, you tell him... to stay where he is," Joyce stutters panicked, "We're coming. We're coming. We're coming, honey." She adds.

"Will? Will!" We hear El cry through the radio, "Will!"

Joyce and Hopper grip Eleven's trembling hands firmly, trying to provide comfort to the gasping girl. Suddenly, she sits up in the bath, with a sharp breath, yanking off her goggles. All of us are taken aback by the sudden movement as we stare at her in shock.

"Oh! Oh, okay, okay." Joyce holds onto El's body as she breaths heavily, "I've got you."

Eleven starts crying in Joyce's loving arms.

"It's okay. I got you. I got you." Joyce repeats, "I got you, honey. You did so good." She adds reassuringly before kissing El's temple as she continues cry in her arms.

I make eye contact with El as she curls up into a ball. I gently reach out, grabbing her hand and rub reassuringly, telling her that it's going to be alright.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Nancy and I sit together with our backs pressed against the cold, hard wall. I bring my knees up to my chest, while Nancy simply stares at the wall, lost in thought. A solemn look rests on both of our faces as we mourn the loss of one of our best friends.

Barb didn't deserve to die.

Jonathan eventually joins us, sitting himself down on the other side of Nancy. We all sit there in silence until Nancy speaks up.

"We have to go back to the station." She says simply, making Jonathan and I turn towards her.

"What?" Jonathan asks.

"Your mom and Hopper are just walking in there like bait." Nancy stammers slightly, "That thing is still in there. And we can't just sit here and let it get them, too."

"We can't." She finishes.

Jonathan and I glance at each other before he sighs, "You still wanna try it out?" He asks.

"I wanna finish what we started." Nancy confirms, finally looking at the two of us, "I want to kill it."

Jonathan and I nod before I stand, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them up off the ground. I smirk slightly before speaking.

"Then, lets kill this son of a bitch."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Nancy, Jonathan, and I successfully make it back to the Byer's house after going to the police station and collecting our supplies.

With our boxes and bags in hand, we make our way into the house. We set them down and immediately notice the lights that have been hung up on every square inch of the house. Nancy, Jonathan and I glance at each other before getting to work.

After screwing in all the singular light bulbs, I turn my attention to setting up the bear trap, making a mental note not to trigger it in the process. After spreading around the lighter fluid and leading it directly towards the trap, I grab my crowbar taking a few swings to make sure I'm ready to kill that bitch.

I make my way back over to Nancy and Jonathan, who grabs three knives from the kitchen drawer before walking back over to us and handing one to both Nancy and I.

"Remember." Jonathan says.

"Straight into Will's room. And—" Nancy repeats our plan.

"Don't step on the trap." I finish with my knife hovering over my hand.

"Wait for the yo-yo to move." Nancy continues.

"Then..." Jonathan flips his lighter on showing us the flame before putting it back in his pocket, "Alright. You guys ready?" He asks.

"Ready." Nancy and I nod at the same time.

"On three." Jonathan says as we bring our knifes up to our hands, "One... two..." Jonathan sees Nancy's distressed look before continuing.

"You guys don't have to do this—"

"Jonathan, stop talking." Nancy shakes her head at the boy.

"I'm just saying, you don't have to—"

"Three." I cut him off before slicing my hand while the other two teens follow quickly behind. I wince and shake my hand slightly at the pain of the cut, blood dripping from the gash. Clenching my fist to contain the flow of the blood, I stare at the cut on my hand. "Son of a bitch." I hiss before Jonathan gets some bandages to wrap our hands in.

We all sit on the couch, our hands wrapped in bandages, nursing our injuries. With a look of concern, Nancy gently wraps Jonathan's hand. The look on her face belies her love for him, and Jonathan smiles back with an equally caring look. I stare at the two hoping their bond only gets stronger.

Suddenly, there's a noise from outside, causing all of us to jump slightly.

"Did you hear that?" Nancy asks, looking at the front door and then glancing back at the two of us.

"It's just the wind." Jonathan replies, eyes locked on the door before he looks back at Nancy, "Don't worry. My mom, she said the lights speak when it comes."

"Speak?" I ask, unsure how lights can possibly speak.

"Blink." Jonathan replies turning towards me, "Think of them as alarms."

There's a moment of silence as Nancy continues to do Jonathan's bandage.

"Is that too tight?" She asks finally.

"No, it's fine." Jonathan stammers slightly, "Thanks." He adds, staring at the girl.

"Nancy." Jonathan whispers.

"Yeah?" She replies and they stare at each other for a few more moments.

Suddenly, we all jump up at the loud sounds of banging on the door. We gasp and our heads instantly swivel towards the front door, our senses heightened as we wonder who has just arrived.

"Jonathan!?" I hear someone yell from the other side of the door. "Are you there, man? It's... it's Steve!"

The three of us glance at each other confused.

Why the hell is Steve here?

"Listen, I just wanna talk!" Steve continues banging on the door.

I immediately leap up from my spot next to Nancy and Jonathan and quickly head to the front door, unlocking it slowly and only opening it a little crack. As I do so, I'm met with Steve in front of me, his face still bloodied and bruised. He looks at me with desperate eyes, and I freeze in shock for a second before speaking again.

"Steve, listen to me." I say sternly.

"Hey, (Y/n), what—" Steve starts with a confused look on his face.

"You need to leave." I demand and the boy shakes his head slightly.

"I'm not trying to start anything, okay?" Steve replies sadly looking into my eyes.

"I don't care about that." I say quickly, even though I still care, very much, "You need to leave." I place my bandaged hand on his chest ushering him to go.

"No, no, no." Steve says desperately, grabbing my hand and placing it in his, "Listen, I-I-I messed up, okay?" He stammers slightly, "I messed up. I messed up. Okay?"

"Really. Please." I search his eyes for sincerity that I find clear as day, "I just want to make things right." He admits with a sigh.

"Okay? Please. Please..." He continues and my eyes soften as he begs me to let him in.

That's when he finally notices my hand in his.

"Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?" Steve asks softly, stroking my hand in his own.

"Nothing. It was an accident." I yank my hand out of his, placing it back to my side.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Steve asks sincerely concerned for my well-being.

"Nothing." I answer a little too quickly.

Rage fills Steve's eyes and he glances behind me. "Wait a sec. Did he do this to you?" He says referring the Jonathan as he attempts to push his way into the house.

"No." I reply, putting my hand on his chest again.

"(Y/n), let me in." Steve says pushing against me.

"No! No! No, Steve!" I can't hold him back and he stumbles into the house before freezing.

All three of us stare at him as he looks around the trap-filled home.

"What is... What the..." Steve finally spots Nancy standing next to Jonathan, "Nancy?"

"You need to get out of here." She says to him before Jonathan runs up to Steve attempting to push him back out the door.

"Whoa, what is all—"

"Listen to me. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, get out of here," Jonathan continues pushing Steve who just pushes back.

"What is that smell?" Steve says frantically, "Is that... is that gasoline?"

"Steve, get out." Nancy says firmly, pointing the gun straight at Steve's head.

"Wait. What?! What is going on?!" Steve yells, glancing at all three of us.

"You have five seconds to get out of here." Nancy says, cocking the gun.

"Okay, is this a joke?" Steve says glancing at me, holding my gaze, "(Y/n)..." He whispers towards me and I give in.

"Nance, put the gun down." I say gently, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"I'm doing this for you." Nancy replies ignoring my request.

"Hold on, hold on." Steve repeats, before the lights above our heads start to flicker uncontrollably.

"Nancy." Jonathan and I whisper, glancing at one another.

"Wait. Is this a... What is this?" Steve continues to question as I grab my crowbar bringing it up to attack position.

"Whoa, (Y/n), what are you doing with that?" Steve asks as I stand next to his defenseless self.

"Protecting your sorry ass," I reply shortly.

"Nancy." Jonathan repeats trying to grab the girl's attention.

"Three. Two." Nancy begins to count down.

"No, no, no! No, no!" Steve yells putting his hands up.

"Nancy!" Jonathan yells again, finally able to grab the girl's attention, "Nancy! The lights."

"It's here." I say quietly as we all stare at the lights.

"Wait, what's here?" Steve asks.

"Where is it?" I ask spinning around with my crowbar in hand.

"Where is what?" Steve asks before having to duck under my crowbar, "Whoa, easy with that!"

Nancy, Jonathan, and I stand back to back as we slowly spin around in a circle, searching for the demogorgon.

"Where is it?" Nancy asks frantically.

"I don't know." Jonathan replies with the same tone.

"I don't see it." I say, glancing at Steve again.

"Where is what?!" Steve asks again, continuing to freak out, "Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on—"

Before Steve can finish his sentence the monster starts breaking through the ceiling, causing debris to fall on us.

Nancy raises her gun and begins shooting at the creature as it falls through the ceiling.

"No!" Jonathan yells grabbing Nancy and pulling her towards Will's room, "Go! Go! Run! Go!"

"Get out of here!" Jonathan yells towards Steve.

I stupidly stand my ground.

With my crowbar raised and ready to swing, I see the Demogorgon advancing towards me, and before I can react and defend myself, Steve grabs my waist and pulls me back against his chest with unexpected force. He quickly reaches into my back jean pocket and pulls me into towards Will's room.

"Jump!" Jonathan yells back toward us.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Steve repeats placing me in front of him so that I'm further away from the creature.

He keeps his hands securely planted on my hips as we jump over the bear trap and yo-yo string before rushing into Will's room, slamming the door behind us. We all stand breathily heavily, our hearts beating rapidly as our adrenaline pumps through our veins.

"Jesus! Jesus! What the hell was that?!" Steve yells again, frantically whipping his head around to each of us, "What the hell was that?!"

"Steve." I grab his face, making him look at me. "Shut up!" He shuts his mouth immediately, glancing at my lips. I scoff and push is face away from mine, still angry at him.

With my crowbar firmly in hand, I turn towards Nancy and Jonathan, standing behind them. We stay there, in Will's room, with our weapons raised and ready to strike. We wait, nervously, for our plan to work, but nothing seems to be happening. The silence is deafening and we're left to wonder if our plan has failed.

"Do you hear anything?" Nancy asks us as the lights flicker one last time.

"No." Jonathan and I reply as I lower my crowbar and Jonathan closes his lighter.

We are all careful and cautious as we slowly exit Will's room, before Steve takes my hand and gently walks out with me, staying by my side.

As we make our way through the hallway towards the living room, there's nothing but silence. We walk around confused, with our weapons raised. I feel Steve let go of my hand and I turn to see him running a hand through his hair.

"This is crazy..." Steve mutters to himself behind me, "This is actually crazy."

"This is crazy! This is crazy!" He continues, "This is crazy!" Steve rushes towards the phone on the wall, attempting to call the proper authorities. Nancy walks over to Steve and yanks the phone off the wall.

"What are you do—" Steve is cut off by Nancy smashing the phone, preventing the boy from using it, "What are you doing? Are you insane?"

"It's going to come back! So you need to leave!" Nancy yells in Steve's face, "Right now." She demands.

Steve turns towards me and I give him a little nod, confirming that he needs to get out of here. He rummages through his jean pockets for his car keys as be rushes out the front door.

As soon as Steve leaves the lights start flicking again, and I raise my crowbar once more.

"Where is it?" Nancy asks as we continue to spin around while the lights flash causing my vision to go hazy.

"Come on." Jonathan whispers, "You see it?" He asks us.

"No." Nancy replies whimpering slightly.

"Where are you... Come on you son of a bitch." I whisper before the lights shut off completely.

I hear a low growl approaching from behind Jonathan and turn to the origin of the sound, only to come face-to-face with the monster. It's standing there, creeping towards Jonathan while he remains unaware of its presence.

"Jonathan!" Nancy yells, warning the boy before the monster launches at him.

"Holy shit! Jonathan!" I yell as Jonathan drops his weapon, leaving him struggling as the creature crawls on top of him.

Nancy cocks her gun before desperately trying to shoot the creature who's laying on top of Jonathan. It's drool dripping down the boy's face.

"Go to hell you son of a bitch!!" I shout before using all my strength to swing my crowbar at the creature. My crowbar somehow gets stuck in the monster's slimy body, which causes me to stumble backwards in surprise. Leaving me defenseless, I watch in horror as the Demogorgon slowly and deliberately approaches, my eyes locked on its every move as it draws closer to me.

Suddenly, Steve appears out of nowhere, with the bat that Jonathan previously made. It's shiny nails catching the flickering light as he swings towards the monster who's stalking towards me. With a loud thwack and a grunt from Steve, the bat connects with the monster's face, leaving it slightly stunned.

He came back.

"Steve!" I shout worriedly attempting to reach towards him as he continues whacking the creature.

Steve effortlessly spins the bat around his hand a few times before brutally hitting the monster again, sending it stumbling back into the bear trap.

"He's in the trap!" Steve yells, noticing the yo-yo string release, "He's stuck!"

"Jonathan, now!" I yell at the boy with the lighter.

We stand together at the end of the hallway, watching as Jonathan flicks his lighter open, sending the monster up in flames. Its body writhing in pain, the creature's shrieks getting louder and louder while the flames consume it. I feel Steve grab my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as his bruised fingers lace with mine.

I glance at Steve and catch his eye, feeling a flutter in my stomach and warmth in my heart. I notice Nancy send me a pointed look with causes my cheeks to flush.

He's so infatuated by you and you don't even notice.

I quickly let go of Steve's hand, turning back to the monster with guilt and confusion in my heart. Steve's eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his own expression now filled with confusion as he comprehends my actions and glances back to the creature. I try to ignore the awkwardness of the moment and to focus on the screeching Demogorgon in front of us.

"Get back!" Jonathan yells to us as he grabs the fire extinguisher and puts the fire out in front of us. Not wanting to burn his whole house down.

We all cough as the dust fills the space, our eyes watering before the hallway begins to clear. We start to make our way slowly and carefully down the hallway, our senses heightened as we search for any sign of the monster. However, to our surprise, the creature is gone.

"Where did it go?" I ask, my breathing heavy as I turn towards each of my friends.

"No. It has to be dead." Jonathan pants, "It has to be."

But there's nothing there.

Out of nowhere, the lights above our heads seem to flicker on. Leading us somewhere.

We hesitatingly follow them through the house before Jonathan speaks.

"Mom." He whispers, "Is that you?"

"Mom?"

We follow the flickering lights outside, the street light being our next stop. I stand on the porch between Jonathan and Steve, who is still carrying around the nailed bat for protection.

"Where is it going?" Nancy asks softly.

"I don't think that's the monster." I say just as softly as the three of them glance at me. Jonathan then speaks.

"That's my mom."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

We all make it back to the school, where police cars are waiting. Apparently a whole thing with the kids and Eleven went down while we were gone.

When I see Dustin I immediately rush over to him, engulfing him in a giant hug. I stroke his curly hair as I silently cry.

"Hey, I'm okay." Dustin says, trying to comfort me.

After I let go of my brother, he trails behind me, as I search for the others. As I notice everyone being held and comforted by their families, I start to feel like something, someone is missing. The sudden realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I turn to my brother, with panic and grief washing over me.

"Dust, where's El?" I ask, my voice shaking and I already know what might have happened.

"She's... She's gone." My brother whispers, sitting down on the back of the ambulance before grabbing my hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

I instantly let out a broken sob, the tears flowing down my cheeks like a river of grief. My hand shakily reach for them, trying to wipe the tears away, but the relentless stream seems unstoppable. I can't bring myself to sit down, and my knees go weak in agony as I try to process.

Eleven is gone.

Steve approaches me silently with his hands shoved in his pockets, his loving eyes filled with sympathy as they watch me cry. Without a word, he softly reaches out his arms, offering me a hug. Without a second thought, I give in, letting my previous anger fade away as I cling tightly to his back, seeking his comfort and protection. My brother watches with sadness, but all of my attention is focused on Steve as I bury my face in his chest and cry. His strong arms comfort me, holding me closely as I continue to sob, his touch soothing my trembling body.

I slowly pull away from his embrace, silently watching as his gaze rests upon me with sadness. Steve gently brings his hand up towards my cheek, hesitating caressing it with care. I find myself leaning towards his touch, a small smile playing on my lips as our eyes lock. Steve eventually brings his hand back down to his side, leaving my cheek feeling cold without his warmth.

"Do you guys need a ride?" Steve finally speaks, glancing between Dustin and I.

I just nod my head.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The car ride home is silent except for the tapping of Steve's fingers on the steering wheel. I stare out the passenger side window, watching the street lights as we drive by.

Steve pulls into my driveway, putting the car in park, before turning his gaze towards me. Immediately, Dustin hops out of the car, disappearing inside the house. I watch from outside as the lights come on and the silhouettes of my mother and brother come into view, locked in a sweet embrace. I heart fills with a mixture of hope, sadness, and pain as I watch.

"Hey (Y/n), you okay?" Steve asks, grabbing my hand from across the center console.

"Yeah, Steve. I think so." I say glancing at the boy, smiling slightly, and this time I actually mean it.

Steve gently releases my hand, his eyes locked with mine as he gives me a small, loving smile and a nod. I exit his car, looking back at him one last time, sending him a little wave before entering my house, closing the door behind me.

I enter only to be greeted with my sweet mother, who embraces me tightly in a warm and compassionate hug, while apologizing profusely for not being at the school to pick us up. Despite her guilt and sorrow, I reassure her that I'm fine, trying my best to put her at ease and hold myself together. Once I make my escape to my room, I sit down on my bed, trying to process everything that had happened in these past few days. The terror, the hurt, the sadness, the confusion that has been so overwhelming. I finally come to three conclusions.

We found Will.

We lost Eleven.

It’s all over.

previous chapter . next chapter . my masterlist . my taglist

#my works #masterlist #wattpad #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things s1

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quills-of-freedom · 1 year

Text

Dream series ~

Porco Galliard

Okay so, I've upset myself writing this new chapter of Crossroads. How Isayama and other writers do it I will never know.

Anyway, it's prompted me to start the "Dream Series" where you're with your love in a modern AU and what happens to them in canon is just a horrible, horrible dream.

Requests for series are open

Female bodied Reader X Porco Galliard

Warnings: Fluff. Soft sex. Cockwarming. Praising (both ways)

Tag list 🐙

@greeniegreengreen

@dreamerdeity

@XOYOURONLYAMORRXO

@koo-detat

@5feetofwrath

@lilshades

Your eyes fly open to be greeted by a void of blackness, the dark room creating familiar yet fuzzy shapes as your eyes focus on the amicable furniture of your bedroom. The room you share with your love -

You bolt to a sitting up position as you gather your bearings, the dream you had feeling like it had gone on forever.

"...Babe?" Porco asked, opening one eye to look at you. The open orb is squinting through the dark, his vocals drawled and half-asleep.

You flick on the bedside light, heart still hammering and the wicked heat of panic surging under your skin.

Porco immediately flinches and puts his head into his pillow to shield him from the light. "Ah, a warning next time?"

If you were in your right mind, you'd apologise. But instead, all you can do is choke on a sob, burying your face into your hands, the light chasing any and all demons from the shadow realm of nightmares back where they belong.

Porco's ear pricks when he hears your broken sob, sitting up with his bed hair sticking here, there and everywhere - eyes still squinting as his large hand softly palms your back.

"Woah, woah... hey, what's wrong?"

Turning, you throw your arms over his bare shoulders, the solid muscles beneath his skin tensing as he embraces you, holding the back of your head as if he were cradling you.

"I had the worst dream. And it felt so real. Eren was this... monster. So were you, a-and Reiner. And you were all fighting. You got hurt. Real bad. Your head was half missing and you were eaten by a - "

"Hey..." He laughs softly. "It was just a dream. It's over now. I'm here with you now, right?"

You nod, withdrawing from the embrace, his head lowering to catch your gaze.

"It wasn't real." he reiterates, fingers now running through your hair.

Using his large thumb, he pushes your tears off your cheeks, his auto "man must protect" instinct clicking on like a light switch at how precious you were, crying and trembling the way you were.

"Come on, let's get you feeling better. You want a drink?"

You shake your head as you inhale deeply, pulling yourself together.

"Tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Hmmm....Soda?"

"No."

"I know, how about a nice cold vodka?"

A smile spreads across your beautiful face. "Ew, no Porco."

His heart warms at seeing you smile, giving your arm a little squeeze.

"Alright. Let's get you back to dreamland, missy."

He felt you tense, knowing you weren't quite ready to risk going back into the unknown sovereign state of your unconscious.

"Alright..." He whispers, his nose now nuzzling at your neck. "Let me make you feel better in other ways..."

You melt instantly as his lips caress your neck, his palm sliding down your arm. "Let me show you I'm really here..." He breathes, the feeling of your soft skin instantly stirring him awake.

He catches your mouth into a deep kiss, his eyes closing while that cute pink hue brightens across the bridge of his nose; no matter how long you'd been together, he always felt so privileged and lucky to be able to have your gorgeous form to himself. He'll never take you for granted.

He gently pushes down your form, grabbing the light switch on his way down, and clicking you both back into the darkness. "I'm here, baby..." He breathes heavily, vocals quivering as he meekly climbs on top of you, his sturdy arms keeping himself hovering above you.

You nod from within the black cloud, both pairs of eyes once again adjusting to the new spectrum of vision.

He paws at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it down your arm and freeing a breast, his warm textured tongue running up your nipple before giving it a nibble with his teeth.

A gasp escapes you at the sensation, running your fingers through his bed hair; lavishing the fact that you're the only person he allows to touch his hair.

As his strong neck works his head across your breast, his hand then grips your bare thigh firmly, tugging down your tiny bed shorts and pulling them down your beautiful pins.

"Let me make you feel safe..." He whispers as he comes back up to your neck, licking it slowly - tasting your natural skin and pheromones. "I'll keep you safe..."

"Oh Porco..." You sigh, wrapping your legs around his waist and feeling his solid manhood standing to attention under his pj bottoms.

"mmm" He hums in between deep kisses of random parts of your neck and chest. "I love it when you get needy for me, gorgeous."

Your own sex is now heated up, pulsing and throbbing on its own accord as this beautiful man who absolutely adores you makes a meal out of your skin.

"You're so perfect, Porco." You whine as he now pulls your top off you entirely.

His heart skips a beat at your words, his form taking shape now your eyes have had time to become familiar with the dark, you see his pink hue deepen to red.

"I love you..." He groans, now kissing your low stomach with such passion, you almost felt that titan steam from your dream emit from his form.

Your nails sink into the sheets as he slowly and deeply starts making out with your slit, his brows sewing together as he pleasures his queen.

Your legs tense and shudder as he groans into you, his tongue now rolling over your sensitive spot.

"Porco, ah ~ you make me feel so ~ good..."

His whimper at your words tugs at your heartstrings. You need to let him know how much he means to you, how amazing he is.

"I need you..." You breathe.

Tearing himself away he sits up, drying his mouth with the back of his wrist before hovering over you once more.

"You've got me. Always."

He pushes himself at your sex, hunching over you and gasping as he slowly slides inside, clinging to you as if you were about to be blown away to another world. Your lips part and nails cling to his arms as his girth stretches you deliciously, his pathetic whimper once he reached the hilt like music to your ears.

He stays still, you can feel his angry cock pulsing within you as it begs its master for some friction. As bad as he is at it, Porco adores cockwarming you - but his self-control is null and void and he never manages to last long. Distracting himself, he paws your hair kissing you as if you were his last meal on this earth.

You bring your legs up in a bend, resulting in him sliding in deeper.

"H'nrgh..." He grunts into your mouth, a deep breath blowing you away.

"You're my every... ah ~ tsss... my everything..." He hisses as your constrictions spasm and flex tightly around his length.

"I love you, Porco..." You whine, trying your best not to buck your hips into his. "I'm all yours..."

Your tongues dance within one another's mouth for a small while, entwining and tasting the other, wrestling gently with adoration that pours from both of your entire beings. Immersing himself into your soul, he grits his teeth and places his head against yours, his hot breath panting and blanketing your face. He whines, he whimpers, he's at your total mercy; all from just reactively tightening yourself which was half an automatic response anyway.

"Never leave me." You whisper. "Don't let this be a dream."

"If I am... I'm waiting for you, somewhere." He replies with honesty. "If i'm a dream. If i'm a character from someone else's world... I'm here, waiting for you to meet me."

A single tear threatens your eye but you blink it away wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck, closing your eyes as you cling onto his body. "I love you."

"I love you too, princess. Just.. wait for me, okay?"

You nod as he begins to slowly withdraw himself. Your breath is taken away as he firmly thrusts back inside of you. Once. twice. Then giving up all reservations and thrusting his cock into you at a nice rhythm and pace, your hips rocking with his movements.

One arm hooks around you, keeping your body pressed against his, the other on the headboard as he rocks himself in and out of your tight squeezes, his whimpering gathering volume as well as the ferocity of his movements.

You cry out his name as he chants yours in a groan, your breasts bouncing with each powerful hit, the hit that's taking you closer to your high.

"Ah ~ babe... you feel so good... fuck... I'm close... uhuh..." His voice breaks as you come undone, shattering and breaking but at the same time becoming whole as you share your orgasm with your lover, your reflexive insides pulling him in deeper as his thick hot nut bursts with force within you, colliding with your cervix.

You lie asleep, Porco watching your soft, satisfied smile as you're cradled in his arms. His small smile of pride is evident as he gazes at your form. Juvenile pride that he just fucked you happy, but also a deep routed sense of feeling proud, that you were his. That he had made you happy. His head then turns to gaze out of the window at the moon that is slightly in the view from a sliver in the drapes. His smile fades to a thoughtful frown.

What if this was some dream?

What if he were the dream, and when she slept here - that dream world is her real world and vice versa?

His brain started to hurt so with a shake of his head, he returned his gaze to his love.

Whatever the case, wherever you might really be... he is waiting.

End.

a/n: I found an audio thing that is the closest thing I could find to what Porco's moans and whimpers sound like when he is feral. WARNING: It takes you to a porn website (a safe one, promise) so keep that in mind, don't want to give you any nasty surprises.

Here it is here. This is so close to Porco when he's going absolutely nuts for you. Ignore the dialogue at the start though.

You're welcome.

#porco smut #porco x reader #porco x y/n #porco imagines #porco x you #porco fluff #porco thirst #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk headcanons #aot

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shina913 · 2 years

Text

Coquet, Part 8 | JJK

Coquet, Part 8

\ kō-ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: aftermath of medical emergency; fluffy/quiet moments; crack; infidelity; false accusations; emotional breakdown; physical altercation (without serious injury); lots of crying; cussing; vulnerable confessions and conversations; INSANE AMOUNT OF ANGST--like, seriously--buckle up!

Word count: 7.7K+ words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: Thank you so much to my lovely betas: @internetjunkdrawer for tirelessly listening to me scream about this every day this week and helping me plan out one of the most intricate scenes I've ever had to write--I might post our diagram, if I feel like it 😂 and to @deepseavibez for the great suggestions on the flow and some of the dialogue and introspection--you've added more nuance to this chapter. I am forever grateful to both of you!!!

A/N2: I do not condone violence in any shape or form. And to reiterate--this is a work of fiction. If you're familiar with my work, I tend to get very dramatic so please keep in mind that this is all for the dramz!

A/N3: Did not expect the taglist to get this big so I'm going to have to do it piece-meal for this chapter and subsequent ones. Thank you all for reading and loving the story so far. As usual, please leave me a comment, ask, or reblog. I love reading and responding to your reactions!

“Do you want me to get you something from the vending machine?”

You looked up at Taehyung, after hearing the tail-end of his question. “Uh–just water, please?”

He nodded, walking down the hall to grab some refreshments for both of you.

You realized you’d been staring at the blank, white wall while you sat in the hallway, right outside your dad’s room. The nurses were limiting visitors after his minor procedure.

After commandeering one of the shuttles and driving it back to the hotel, Taehyung ran up to his room to pick up the spare keys to your dad’s red 1960 Jaguar Drophead. Clutching the keys in his hand felt bittersweet. He didn't expect to be driving this car so soon. Your dad told Taehyung that he and Jennie could ride off to the airport on the way to their honeymoon–a wedding surprise.

The wedding…

It was one of the first things your dad said when he came to. Taehyung quickly calmed him down and told him that his health was number one priority.

The doctor said that he suffered a ventricular tachycardia episode. The diagnosis sounded more serious than what it actually was, especially after they took him into a small room and put him under anesthesia. They inserted a catheter through one of his blood vessels and applied mild radiofrequency energy so that no further arrhythmias would occur. The doctor eased your worries and assured you that since your dad did not have any history of serious heart conditions, he would bounce back in a few days. He just needed to be kept overnight to make sure that he stays stable but that he’d be discharged tomorrow, just in time for the ceremony.

Taehyung returns, handing you a bottle of water.

You murmur your thanks as you take it from him, twisting the cap open to take a swig. As you chugged down the water, you realized that you hadn’t eaten or drank anything in the last…four hours, you thought, after checking the clock in the hallway.

“Dad’s funny, he’s so worried about the wedding,” he mutters vaguely, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah…dad’s priorities need a little work,” you say wryly.

Taehyung laughs softly, sinking into the seat next to you in silence, with his shoulders slumped. After a long beat, he swallowed hard. “Fuck. I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he confesses as he buries his face in his hand.

You put your hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it reassuringly. “I know. Me, too,” you whispered.

“Thank goodness Jungkook was there. What are the chances that you bring your doctor-boyfriend over to a family function and a medical emergency breaks out?”

You chuckle to yourself. Exactly. What were the chances?

//FLASHBACK

“Y-you’re…you’re…” You stuttered.

“Yes, I am.” Jungkook gave you a small smile, trying to keep his voice hushed.

“But…h-how? When?”

“Well…I just got my MD and started my residency–which was why I was running late the day I was supposed to meet you. I had just wrapped up a shift.”

“Holy shit–a-are you sure this isn’t a part of–”

He shook his head then reached into his back pocket. “No, no. This is most certainly not part of the package,” he chuckled nervously. “Here.” He presents you with his work badge…with his real name written on it.

“You had this on you this whole time?” You ask him incredulously.

He nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, I was coming from work…I just changed out of my scrubs and into my suit at the airport.”

Your heart was racing–it felt as if you were about to have some sort of coronary episode as well. He cupped your face–calming you down almost in an instant.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. But when you get back, I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay? Right now, I know you have to go to your dad. I’ll be back at the hotel waiting for you.”

You pressed your forehead to his. “Thank you,” you breathed out.

“You’re welcome. Are you going to be okay?” He asks softly.

You tilted your chin up to kiss him. “I will be,” you answered.

//END FLASHBACK

Your phone buzzed, reminding you of pending notifications that you have yet to look at. You pull your phone out and look at the screen–two missed calls: one from Cristina and the other from Jimin. You had several text messages from him and Mindi as well, checking in. There was another text–this one was from Jungkook.

[From Jungkook] (10:45PM): Was it a V-tach like I suspected? Did they do the radioablation on him?

You chuckled to yourself–still coming to grips with the fact that he is a doctor. You turned to Taehyung and excused yourself, stepping away to place a call.

Jungkook picks up on the second ring. “Hey.” His voice instantly calmed you.

“Hi.”

“How are things?”

“Fine, now. And you were right on the money on the diagnosis–they did do that, uhm…radio…” You had forgotten the term.

“Radioablation,” he says carefully.

“Yes, thank you,” you sighed softly. “They have to keep him overnight just to make sure that he heals nicely but–the doctors seem to think that they were able to fix the problem.”

“Yeah. It didn’t seem like your dad had any other serious health issues in the past so that sounds about right,” he says. After a beat of silence, he switches tact. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m–” you cleared your throat, “I’ll be okay,” you say slowly. “It got a little scary back there but it’s good to know he’s going to be fine.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Jungkook, you’ve done plenty already. Thank you, again. I…I don’t know how I could ever–” your voice started to crack at the thought of losing your dad. Even though the doctor had already assured you that he was safe, you still couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Hey–it was a no-brainer for me. Someone’s in trouble, I can’t just watch and let it happen.”

A warmth bloomed within you. Whether he was obligated to do it or he did it out of pure concern and care for your family, it was still incredibly noble of him.

“YN?”

You looked back to see Taehyung calling you over to your dad’s room.

“Listen, I have to go,” you say apologetically over the phone.

“It’s fine. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you, I will. Uhm…bye,” you signed off before following right behind Taehyung as he walked through the door.

Your dad was lucid but looked exhausted from the ordeal. He was conversational but the nurse insisted that he get some sleep to aid in his recovery.

“Why don’t you both go back to the hotel and get some rest? There’s not much we can do for your dad at this point. He just needs to sleep and wait ‘til the morning,” your mom says, sounding resigned.

“We can go back and grab some things for you. Anything in particular?” Taehyung asked.

“A change of clothes, maybe? Or his other medications?” You suggested.

Your mom nodded absently. “Yeah…yes. Clothes…that-that sounds good.” She sounded disconnected from the situation. She was still reeling from this evening’s events. You grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“He’s out of the woods now,” you say softly. “The doctor says he’ll be okay–he can go off and do normal stuff after this.“

She looked at you, tears pooling in her eyes, and nodded. You engulf her in a tight embrace and she lets out a sob. “Darling, I was so scared. So, so scared.”

“I know, mom. We were, too.” Despite her flaws and your tricky relationship, you still loved her. But marrying your stepdad was one of the best decisions that she had made. And you knew that he was one of the best things that happened to her.

As she pulled away, you wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Please tell Jungkook how grateful I am for him being there.”

You nodded. Taehyung gives her a hug as well before letting her know that you would both drive back, pick up some personal items for them and return as soon as you could.

******

After getting off the phone with YN, Jungkook runs into Jimin and gives him a quick update on her dad’s condition.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Damn. That was pretty insane what you did back there, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “It was nothing. I just did what I had to do.”

Jimin pats him on the back as a sign of his gratitude. “Either way, thanks, doc!” He says with a grin before walking off to find his mom.

Jungkook let out a puff of air. There wasn’t much for him to do. Everyone else was just waiting for word from YN or Taehyung on their dad’s condition.

He took a stroll down towards the lobby, thinking he’d lie down back in the room and wait for YN’s call. When he crosses the walkway to the courtyard, he overhears harsh whispers.

“I don’t understand why you are bringing this up again. Now? Of all days?” The female voice hissed.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all week and you’ve been avoiding me–”

“God! Will you ever stop? I don’t know what you want from me! I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again–it meant nothing!”

“Stop saying that it didn’t mean anything!” The male voice said.

It wasn’t like Jungkook to eavesdrop on a private and seemingly personal conversation. He decides to walk away but he hears something else that compelled him to stay.

“It was a mistake! You knew that I’ve been in love with Tae this whole time. Whatever happened was–regretful, to say the least. I was vulnerable and we shouldn’t have been drinking.”

The male let out a frustrated groan.

Jungkook carefully rounded the corner of one of the hedges that led to the courtyard to find Haru clutching Jennie’s hands.

“Please…I just…I need to know. I need to know for sure–”

“Haru, I love him! I am marrying him! I don’t know how else I can make that clear to–”

Jennie gasps and her eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook while Haru whips his head around curious to find out what she was reacting to. She withdraws her hands from him abruptly–as if they hadn’t already been caught in a compromising position.

Haru flexes his jaw and excuses himself, sidestepping Jungkook as he heads back indoors.

Jennie and Jungkook stare at each other. Her eyes start to water as she tries to figure out how to talk her way out of this situation.

“H-how much did you hear?” She asks when Haru was out of earshot. It was a stupid question but it was the first thing that she thought of. She wraps her hands around herself, suddenly feeling small.

“Enough,” he answers. “I’m guessing that she has no idea?”

She shook her head adamantly. And judging by that reaction, Taehyung was in the dark as well.

“Does anybody else know?”

“No,” she answers immediately. “I…honestly had chosen to forget about it,” she says quietly. “I told him to do the same. He’s just being an idiot. It was a mistake a-and…”

“And yet he still went ahead and broke his engagement…for you?” Jungkook directs the question at her.

Jennie’s eyes shoot up at him. Her expression turned hard. “He was being delusional!” She dropped her hands to her side and walked a few steps to the other side of the courtyard.

She took a deep breath while staring off at the distance. “We all grew up together…I’ve loved Taehyung since…forever! When he finally told me that he felt the same, I never wanted to let him go. I waited so long for him to realize it and say it. I wasn’t about to let Haru ruin that.”

“So instead you decided to break his sister’s heart.” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory but it just came out like that. He was feeling incredibly protective of YN.

“I did not decide anything,” she said slowly. “Haru and YN were engaged...I was going through some things. He was just trying to be a good friend when I needed him…we got drunk and a little carried away. It happened once and it didn’t mean anything!”

“It sounded like it meant something to him, though,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“Well, he’s wrong! I never wanted to break them up. I even tried convincing him to get back together with her but…he–he just would not listen! It was one time. One time!”

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded.

She then closed in on him, a worried look on her face. “Y-you wouldn’t tell, would you?” She asks meekly.

His eyebrows lifted. He stared at her quietly for a few seconds.

“Jungkook–y-you wouldn’t…please?” she begged. “You guys are together now and…and Taehyung and I are getting married,” she laughed nervously. “The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Look, Jennie…it’s not my place.”

Her face visibly relaxes for a bit but her relief doesn’t last long.

“I know that in this situation, I’m not obligated to be truthful to you. But I feel like you need to be honest with yourself and, in turn, be honest with the man you’re going to marry. And…in the process, make amends with people you’ve hurt.” It clawed at him that one of YN’s oldest friends would betray her like this. But he decided it would be best that the truth come from her and not him.

“Jungkook…I just…I can’t right now. With Taehyung’s dad and everything else going on–I have to find the right time.”

Jungkook hummed. “Mm, you’re right. You really should time these things. So that when Taehyung hears that you screwed his best friend and that you played a part in his sister’s heartbreak, he won’t feel like the world is collapsing around him and there’s no escape…because, hey, you’re already his wife.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Jungkook–”

“Don’t worry, Jennie. Like I said, it’s not my place since I’m not involved in this situation. But as somebody who says they’re YN’s friend? I think you owe it to her. And Tae–” He thinks back to hours ago during the cocktail reception. The way he talked about Jennie and how he practically worshiped the ground that she walked on. “You can’t start your marriage off with a lie.”

Jennie’s lips narrowed into a thin line as she considered it.

******

When you and Taehyung arrived back at the hotel, you went straight to the front desk to ask for a copy of your parents’ room key to retrieve some of their personal things. Taehyung explained the situation and the staff were incredibly understanding and sent their warm wishes for your dad’s recovery.

After they hand the key card, Taehyung shoots straight for the elevators with you following right behind but he stops you.

“Hey, uh–maybe we should split up. I can go up and grab their things but–would you mind doing me a huge favor?”

“Of course,” you replied.

“Could you find Jennie for me and tell her that I’ll be down in a few? Last time she called me, she said she was somewhere out back with her family. Or…I don’t know,” He scratched his head. “Maybe she’s in the bridal suite–I don’t even remember what room–”

“Tae–say no more. I’ll look around for her.”

He gives you a small nod of gratitude before he steps into the elevator. You walk off, making your way to the courtyard when you see Jungkook sitting in one corner of the lobby.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye and immediately rises to move towards you.

Upon seeing him, you felt…lighter. You walked, no–practically broke into a sprint as he came to meet you halfway, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Hey,” he says as he nuzzled into your hair.

“Hey, doc,” you chuckled softly into his chest. You felt his laugh rumble within him, tickling your ear. You pulled away, regarding him intently for a bit.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

You smiled. “No,” you say lightly. “I just–” you chuckled again. “This is so crazy,” you whispered to him.

He nodded. “I know. I’ve never had to use my actual job as a cover story.”

“W-we could have gone with my original idea? That you’d be a shrink?”

He snorted. “I thought I’d try a different strategy for this booking. Although…I never thought I’d actually have to practice medicine.”

“Well–that was…incredibly lucky,” you said, referring to your dad’s emergency.

His face turns serious. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded earnestly, tilting your chin up to press your lips to his. “I’m good now,” you smiled at him. His expression softens and he smiles back.

“The doctor who treated dad sounded reassuring before Tae and I left.” Suddenly, you remember what you were supposed to do, before getting distracted, per usual, by Jungkook. “Actually, we were just stopping by to grab a few things for my parents then we have to head back again. Have you seen Jennie, by the way? Tae asked me to look for her.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows quirk at the sound of her name. He shifted uncomfortably–although you didn’t think much of it. “I, uh–thought I saw her walk off with her mom somewhere. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call Mindi to find out–but first–I think I need to pee,” you grimaced. “All of this tension is shrinking my bladder. I’ll be right back.” You hear him chuckle softly as you pull away from him, walking towards the lobby restrooms, to the left of the elevators.

******

When you walk out the door and back down the hallway, you are startled when Haru blocks your path. “Holy shit, Haru! What the—“

“Can we talk? Please?”

You hesitate. “Uh…do we have to?“ You say tensely. You were stressed enough and didn’t know how much time you had left to find Jennie before Taehyung made his way back down to the lobby.

“Look, I saw you and Jungkook talking and you looked really upset,” he started quickly. It baffled the hell out of you but you were more surprised to learn that your little moment with Jungkook was not-so-private after all. Your heart started pounding, thinking that the jig was up.

“A-and I know what you’re thinking right now but I need you to listen to my side of the story,” Haru continued.

Your eyebrows knit further in confusion. Before you could open your mouth to argue, Haru pressed on. “I want you to know that I didn’t do it to hurt you…b-but after what happened, I just felt incredibly confused.”

He was confused? What about you?

“H-Haru, I’m…not following,” you utter slowly.

Ignoring your last remark, he continued his word vomit. “I started feeling all of these things and…I just couldn’t shake them. I tried, believe me, I tried really hard to fight it. And it wasn’t like I didn’t already know how Taehyungie felt about her—“

Her.

Your mouth went dry. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“...Then I thought about us and…I realized that…I didn’t want to be unfair to you. I couldn’t.”

The room felt unsteady all of a sudden. Or maybe those were your legs–legs that you weren’t even sure belonged to you right this second.

“YN? I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you–”

“No.” Your voice sounded unfamiliar to you. “No,” you repeated the word forcefully, as if not comprehending fast enough. “I…I can’t…I can’t deal with this…” Your chest felt tight and you were absolutely sick to your stomach.

You started to walk off. Ears ringing as if a bomb had gone off. You were unsure which direction you were going–but you wanted to move somewhere safe. You wanted to go and find Jungkook…your safe place.

Feeling unsteady on your feet, you stumbled but you felt Jungkook swoop you up in his arms right away.

“What happened? Did he do anything to you?” He asked as he glared at Haru, who stayed rooted to the spot.

“I-I…” you stuttered, trying to get over the shock.

“I can’t believe you told her!”

You were jolted by a shrill voice coming from the right side of the elevators. You pulled away from Jungkook to lay your eyes at her. But when you turned to look–you were confused as to whom she directed her ire at.

Was she looking at you?

You traced her line of sight and were shocked to find that she was glaring at Jungkook. You looked again to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating.

You tore your eyes away from Jennie a second time and looked back at the man in front of you. “You…you knew?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and blink furiously “H-hold on–”

“You knew?” You repeated, wrenching yourself away from him.

“It's not what you think…” he started to take steps towards you but you held your hand up to stop him.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” You say more aggressively at him this time. When he didn’t respond, you turned your attention to Jennie. “Does Taehyung know?” You yelled, looking back at Haru, who had stepped in closer.

Jennie gasps at the sight of him and stands frozen, realizing Jungkook wasn’t the one who revealed her secret— it was Haru.

“Does Taehyung know what?”

None of you heard the elevator ding. Everyone’s heads whip around to find Taehyung stepping into the lobby, carrying a small duffel bag with him.

“What? What is it that I know? Or don’t know?” He asks curiously while looking around at everyone.

You were visibly shaking from anger, jaw clenched, fists balled up. You wanted to scream out their indiscretion right then but somehow, you couldn’t make words come out of your mouth.

“YN?” His face scrunched up in confusion upon seeing the distressed look on your face. “Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on? Jagiya? Haru?”

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat—wondering how much longer he could stay out of this.

But everyone seems to have forgotten how to speak. Taehyung asks again, sounding more irritated this time. “Guys, seriously–if nobody tells me–”

“I slept with Jennie,” Haru blurts out.

Tears start streaming from Jennie’s eyes.

Taehyung let out a humorless chuckle and turned to his friend. “What?”

“Jennie and I…we had sex,” Haru said again–as if the point hadn’t gotten across yet.

There were only seconds of silence in between those moments but it felt like eons.

Taehyung turned to Jennie who was struggling to contain her sobs. “I-it was right before we got together. I-it didn’t mean anything,” she whimpered.

His neck whipped sideways at his friend, silently asking for an explanation.

“I’m in love with her, man. I…I love her–”

Jennie interjected immediately. “But I love you, jagi–it’s always been you!”

Taehyung glances at you. Tears stung your eyes but not from hurt…it was from rage. But you saw the pain etched all over your brother’s face. It was a look you’d rarely seen during your childhood. Then, his lip suddenly curled into a sneer before he lunged at Haru, ramming into him and taking him down.

It all happened so quickly.

The two men hit the marble floor with a thud. Someone yelled. There was a distant sound of screaming. You stood there, frozen and silent, emotions twisting within you.

Taehyung pinned Haru by the throat and pummeled his jaw with a series of blows. Haru grunted with each brutal impact and struggled to break free.

Some bodies zoomed past you, coming from different directions as they attempted to break up the melee.

Mindi and Jimin round the corner after hearing the commotion.

You couldn’t stand being in the presence of other people right this second. You needed to walk away…needed to leave this situation before you exploded. Your feet started moving on their own–finding yourself walking towards the courtyard and out to the beach.

Jungkook tries to pull Taehyung off a bloodied Haru when Jimin jumps in, trying to hold his friend back as well. He gives Jimin a look and he nods, telling him that he’s got this so he could go after you.

“Tae, stop–you’re getting married tomorrow!” Jimin says through gritted teeth after finally managing to pull Taehyung far enough from Haru.

Taehyung quits struggling at the sound of Jimin’s reminder. Breathing raggedly, he shrugs off Jimin’s hold and gives Haru and Jennie a look–both pained and contemptuous. “The hell I am,” he growled. “Wedding’s off,” he declared.

As he takes a couple of steps away, Jennie tries to stop him, begging him to let her explain things. “Jagi, please,” she sobbed.

“No, don’t,” he shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t even look at you right now,” he seethed.

Her shoulders sag. Mindi approaches quietly and pulls Jennie into her arms, where she breaks down watching Taehyung storm off.

Jimin eyes Haru with contempt. After he is helped up by two other groomsmen, he utters, “Clean yourself up and get your ass out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

******

“Wait up!” Jungkook calls out to you.

“Leave me alone!” You trudge through sand, thinking how comical you must look. But you didn’t give a shit at this point. You were incredibly angry. Angry at Haru. Angry at yourself. Angry at…everything!

“YN, wait!”

“I can’t believe I trusted you,” you say indignantly.

“Will you stop running away for one second?” He catches up to you in a few strides.

You stopped abruptly to turn and face him. You aggressively swipe at the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“How could you not have told me?” You seethed.

He scoffed. Opening his mouth preparing to say something but shutting it just as quickly. He looked like he was at a loss for words. “What did you expect me to say? I–”

“You should have told me,” you cut him off. “Instead, you let me make a fool out of myself. You lied. But hey, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised because that’s what you do. That’s what your whole business is built on…that’s who you are. A liar!”

He tossed his head back and let out a bitter chuckle. “Oh? So we’re back to judging me again, are we? That’s rich,” he says icily. “You’re pointing the finger at me? The man whom you hired to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

The reality check was a punch in the gut…as if you hadn’t gotten enough of those tonight. What’s another one?

You square your shoulders and tilted your chin up, acknowledging his argument. “Okay, you’re right. I did that. I was so desperate to make everyone believe that I was okay…that I was happy…that I decided to pay $8,000 for a lie.” You swallowed hard. “But at the end of the day, the only one who ended up falling for it was me,” you spit out angrily.

You hated saying it out loud because it made you acknowledge how delusional you might have become.

His expression turned solemn. “You know, I figured you were running out of steam on this jilted-fiance story and you needed some fuel to ruin your next relationship. So go ahead! Hate me.” He stretched his arms out on either side and shrugged. “Consider it part of the package.”

You looked away from him. Regretting the last two days…the last few hours. He made you feel safe, showed you that he cared. He shared things about himself. And for a minute, you let yourself believe it…that you had fallen for the real thing–and not the fantasy.

“I won’t be needing any more of your services,” you mustered.

He nodded, feeling resigned. “Gotcha. I’ll get my things and be out of your hair tonight.” Turning on his heel, he takes one last look at you before leaving.

You watched his figure grow smaller as he moved further away from you. This was what you had feared the most: leaning in far too close and falling hard–with nobody to catch you.

Your legs give out, sinking onto the sandy surface. You bury your head in your hands and mentally kick yourself for thinking that you could find happiness again.

******

Jungkook nearly takes the door off its hinges when he enters the room. He was on a mission–stuff everything in his suitcase, as quickly as he can, and get the fuck out of here.

He marches into the bathroom, grabs all of his toiletries, and tosses them haphazardly into his luggage. He pulls his phone charger off the outlet. He yanks the garment bags out of the closet, setting them on the bed, then does one final sweep of the bedroom and bathroom to make sure that he’s collected all of his belongings.

Next, he pulls up the return flight information on his phone and calls customer service. Unfortunately, the airline was no longer taking red-eye reservations since it was nearing midnight so he booked the first available flight leaving in the morning instead. The associate proceeded to tell him about extra fees which he agreed to quickly.

He resolves to stay at a different hotel, thinking it was pointless to be on standby at the airport.

After he books it online, he goes to pick up his carry-on bag. He tosses his charger and other knick-knacks in it. Before he zips it up, he sees a white envelope. The one that YN handed to him on their first night.

He takes it out and walks over by the night stand to grab a pen. He sighed before scribbling something on it. Afterwards, he tosses it on the mattress. He picked up his backpack, swung the garment bags over his shoulder and dragged his suitcase, quietly walking out the door.

To his relief, the lobby was clear. He had ordered a rideshare and planned on waiting for it by the hotel’s driveway.

Only a minute into waiting, he hears someone call his name.

“You’re leaving?” Taehyung asks.

Surprised to see him there, he had to think of something quickly. He had hoped to make a quiet, uneventful getaway.

“Uh–I got a call from the hospital. My boss recalled me. They need me for an emergency back home.” He felt terrible about lying to Taehyung. He thought that maybe he had had enough falsehoods for the night. As much as it pained him to do it, he still thought about protecting YN and their cover story.

“Oh. What about YN?”

“I…we talked about it...you know, before–” Jungkook trailed off, not wanting to bring up the incident that just occurred. “I told her that I’d call her as soon as I take care of things,” he said with a small smile.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Taehyung looked as if he was on autopilot. Jungkook catches a glimpse of his bruised knuckles from the fight earlier.

Jungkook hesitated. “I was going to take a rideshare to a hotel near the airport.”

Taehyung’s expression was deadpan. “Tell me where it’s at and I’ll drive you.”

“A-are you sure? W-what about–”

“Listen–you’re leaving and I don’t really want to be here right now. It’s a win-win for both of us. What do you say?”

******

The ride to Jungkook’s hotel was quiet. Taehyung kept his eyes straight on the road.

When they pull up to the parking lot, he shuts the engine off.

“Thanks for the ride,” Jungkook utters.

“Don’t mention it,” Taehyung replied.

Jungkook peers at Taehyung, whose elbow rested on the car door while his other hand loosely held onto the steering wheel.

“I uhm–hope you had a nice trip out here?” He says dryly.

Jungkook sighed. “Yeah. It was great. Thanks, Tae,” he says, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. He paused for a beat. “I’m…I’m really sorry about…Jennie.”

Taehyung is silent for a minute. Jungkook regrets the comment but before he takes it back, Taehyung spoke. “I think I wouldn’t have been as angry if it were someone else.” He pursed his lips, trying to stop himself from verbalizing it, as if it would make it less real.

“Not Haru.” Taehyung continued as his eyes flicked downward, falling silent for another minute or so while he flexed his bruised hand. “I feel like shit, Jungkook. I–I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I can’t believe I…” he swallowed hard. “Fuck, I can’t believe I let YN–”

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Tae. YN decided that she valued your relationship more and didn’t want to put you in a tough spot.” He tries to say consolingly.

“You know, I’ve had Jennie up on a pedestal since–” he stopped short after realizing something. “...Since I put her there,” he trailed off quietly. Jennie, the girl next door. The good girl, always in the honor roll…always the sweetheart. She’d never hurt a fly.

“You couldn’t have known, Taehyung. She had no clue either.”

“But that’s what sucks, doesn’t it? I feel so fucking guilty. I felt bad enough that my sister chose to leave…she gave me an out. Now, I feel like the biggest schmuck,” he says regretfully. “And…I feel awful that I had a hand in hurting her, too,” he says quietly.

“Don’t beat yourself up for this. She dealt with the situation the way she thought was best.”

Taehyung leaned back against the headrest, sighing heavily. Jungkook couldn’t imagine going through all of these emotions in a single night. The first few days of his residency had been rough. Unlike his clients, he found it incredibly difficult not to get attached to a patient. It was a strange feeling for him at first. With clients, he learned to care enough about them to a certain degree–to make them feel comfortable. But when that job was done, he went home and simply disconnected. As a doctor, the connection was much harder to shake off with a patient.

Taehyung was not his patient–but in the few days that he had gotten to know him, it wasn’t difficult to feel empathy towards him…and practically the rest of YN's family.

“I still love her,” Taehyung whispers. He chuckled wryly at his admission. “And I’m supposed to be angry because she hurt me…and she hurt my sister. Loving her even after all that–I feel like that's so wrong in so many ways.”

“You can feel both.” Jungkook said quietly while staring at nothing in particular. “It’s amazing how someone can break your heart and you can still love them with all the little pieces.”

Taehyung lifted his head to peer up at him in curiosity. Jungkook pursed his lips, quietly thinking about the last few days. He reminded himself that he had originally accepted the booking as a change of pace since he was getting tired of running on the old hamster wheel–and his friend convinced him to do so–for his sanity. It turned out that this trip had surprised him in more ways than one.

YN had surpassed all of his expectations, gaining access to all of his self-imposed “perimeters.” She had only managed to do that because he willingly gave her access. He opened himself up and practically let her walk through.

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks and released a breath. Then the next few words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “The hardest thing is loving someone and having the courage to let them love you back.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying any more. He was feeling vulnerable, too. But for now, he would have to set those thoughts aside. Between the both of them, only one would talk about how heartbroken they were tonight.

Jungkook shook his head gently. “Well, if you know her shit, and she knows yours–and at the end of the day, you’d still rather give up than try…nothing’s ever going to be worth it,” he looks at Taehyung pointedly.

Taehyung lets his words sink in and they fall silent once more.

“Thanks for listening.” Taehyung mumbled.

His response came instantaneously. “Anytime.”

“I didn’t mean to hold you up. I, uh–have to go back to the hospital anyway.”

“I don’t mind at all. If anything, I feel bad delaying you,” Jungkook utters before stepping out of the car and retrieving his things from the backseat. “Thanks again for the ride, Tae.” He said it as earnestly as he could–thinking this could be the last time he’d ever see him.

“You’re welcome. And I hope your emergency gets resolved soon. I’m sure YN can’t wait until you’re back together. She’ll need you.”

Jungkook forced a smile. “Yeah. I hope so.” He made it sound like he was responding to the part about the ‘emergency’ when in fact he was actually referring to the last part of Taehyung’s statement.

“Anyway–drive safely. I hope,” He paused for a beat, “I hope that everything works out,” he sighed, thinking that it was the wrong thing to say in this situation but he was sincere about it and wanted to let Taehyung know that he meant it.

Taehyung gave an ambiguous head bob, keeping his expression blank before turning the engine back on and reversing out of the spot.

Jungkook gave him a quick wave and watched the taillights fade into the night.

******

After you calmed down, you wandered back towards the hotel. Taehyung sent a quick text apologizing for taking off and that he went on to return to the hospital to bring your parents’ things after dropping Jungkook off at another hotel.

Selfishly, you wondered whether Jungkook had decided to let the cat out of the bag. Taehyung didn’t seem to hint at knowing anything about it and it wasn’t really the right time to ask him about it. You would just deal with it later.

As you close in at the hotel entrance, you see Haru stepping out to load his things into a cab. He catches you from his peripheral and slows down. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever he might do next.

You stood there in silence while his cab idled. He had a cut on his eyebrow that matched the one on his swollen lip–which was only dwarfed by the bruise on his cheek. Your brother certainly did a number on him. He tilted his head slightly, a completely dejected look on his face and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly, acknowledging the apology but not necessarily accepting it. He nods in return before he dips into the back seat and rides off.

*******

You get off the elevator and walk quietly down the hallway, feeling some odd sense of relief that you were not going to run into Jungkook. You freeze on the spot when you see Jennie sitting on the floor by your room. She hugged her legs to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. God knows how long she’d been waiting there.

You broke into a cold sweat and were tempted to run back to the elevator. But something propelled you to continue walking towards her. You decided within yourself that you were done running. You swallowed hard and tried to calm yourself.

Hearing footsteps, she lifts her head to find you advancing towards her. She stands quickly, trying to compose herself.

So many thoughts ran through your head as you stared her down. You were very tempted to slap her. You clenched your fist but quickly relaxed it–trying to avoid doing something you might regret.

“I…I was hoping we could talk,” Jennie says shakily.

You stared at her blankly while she wrung her hands. “Well? Talk.” You deadpanned. Truthfully, you were interested to hear what she had to say. After she repeatedly shut you down during her bachelorette party after you drunkenly rambled on about Haru.

She inhaled sharply. “I’m–really, really sorry…about everything. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

“Well, that would have been really shitty of you if you wanted any of this to happen.” You were eerily calm. “When?”

“YN–”

“When?” You asked again.

“It was…sometime in March. A couple months before Tae and I got together. I…I was just so in love with him and I didn’t know how to tell him. I only called Haru because I needed his help.”

Even though she didn’t tell you the exact date, you had a feeling of when this night in question occurred. You and Haru had a stupid argument about the wedding registry and he stormed off. Thinking back, you remembered that you had been fighting a lot in the weeks leading up to your breakup.

“We met up for drinks, a-and—“

You didn’t need the rest of the details. “Did Mindi know?”

She shook her head adamantly. “No, I never told anybody.”

You and Haru made up when he got home the next morning and you thought everything was going to be fine but it was short-lived. Less than a couple weeks later, he dropped the bomb on you and ended things. Mindi and Jennie were your first calls.

“You saw me hurting, you saw me questioning myself after it happened. I had replayed almost every scenario–analyzed it to no end, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. And after all this time, you knew.” Your eyes stung with tears.

“I know that there’s no excuse for what I did. I instantly regretted it. I told Haru that after he came to me with this ridiculous confession after Taehyung and I had gotten together. I told him that ending your engagement was a big mistake. I tried very hard to convince him to fix things with you.”

And you both know how her efforts turned out.

Before going on this trip, you dreaded seeing Haru the most. You were afraid that he would stir up feelings in you that you thought had already faded with time. The last few days made you realize that you didn’t love him anymore. But there was one feeling that lingered–it was failure.

For a year, you thought that you were the problem. He left you, so you got it in your head that you caused the relationship’s failure.

But it wasn’t your fault. And after thinking on it more tonight, it wasn’t Haru’s fault either. Tonight’s revelations shed some light on many truths. Even some that you didn’t expect.

“I’m…so, so sorry. For everything,” she sniffled.

“Taehyung should be back soon,” you say calmly and unceremoniously.

“Yeah, I think I’m the last person he’ll want to see.” She wiped her tears. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot from all of tonight’s events.

“You still love him, right?” Despite everything, you had no doubt about how Jennie felt about your brother.

She nodded wordlessly.

You’ve watched them love each other from a distance for years. When they finally got together, it made you yearn for something even half as good as what they shared.

She kept this from him because she had a sinking feeling that what they had wouldn’t be able to weather the truth.

“Lies erode trust, Jennie. By nature, we count on people who tell the truth. Honesty…brings us joy and builds stronger connections.” You saw that quote somewhere–not remembering who said it but it seemed appropriate for the situation.

Whatever you had with Haru was long gone. All those years of friendship that eventually turned to love—ruined, beyond repair. Ultimately, things weren’t meant to be with him.

As much as it pained you to say it, you still thought that what Taehyung and Jennie had was real—even after finding out her indiscretion towards you.

A year ago, you would have been spiteful. Wanting to hurt Haru as much as he hurt you. And what good would that have done? Even now, as your body calms down from the shock of it all, you feel oddly at peace.

“You should still try talking to him. He’s feeling raw, I’m sure but…if you love him, you have to try.”

You stared at her quietly as she cried softly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And…thank you…for giving me that closure that I needed,” you finished.

She opened her mouth tentatively, looking like she was deciding whether she should say anything else or not. She swallowed hard. “D-does this mean that…you forgive me?” She whispered.

You softened your face. “Right now? No,” you say simply.

Her expression is pained and quite frankly, you didn’t want to twist that blade any further.

“But I won’t stay angry. That said, I think,” you paused, “…that should be enough for both of us to move on from this. I can’t tell you how things will turn out tomorrow but tonight, I can’t pretend that everything is okay.”

She nodded in acceptance. Before you tap your keycard to the door, she stops you to tell you one last thing.

“For what it’s worth—Jungkook had nothing to do with this. He overheard me and Haru arguing. He tried convincing me to come out with it.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, steeling yourself.

“I-I know I fucked up before but—I hope…I hope that I can at least salvage this relationship for you. He didn’t do anything wrong,” she says quietly before walking away.

With that, you open the door to your room and shut it behind you.

You took a few steps in and scanned the place. It was a sizable junior suite…but the last few days, it felt much smaller than that. More intimate.

You reached the closet to find one side of it empty. You looked around some more, as if taking stock of what was missing.

Nothing of yours. Just his.

You sat on the bed, feeling numb. You pushed him away…and he left, just as you wanted him to.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

With a deep sigh, you flopped onto the mattress, with your hands above your head. As your back lands on it, your hand hits something else with a weird ‘thwack.’

You blindly feel around for the item. Once you grasped it, you held it up to your line of sight.

The words written on it made you sit up once more.

It’s all there. Trust me.

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