A collection of girl group smuts x male reader. Some one-shots, others sequels. [18+]
This is a work of fiction and thus, all characters depicted should be treated as such.
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"Oh my God."
No other words could adequately describe what happened to you. It was everything but a blur, things that could easily form into lifelong traumas. Almost everything you went through over the past few days might as well be taken straight out of a movie.
So where do you start?
An encounter with the local mafia that results in your fingers almost getting cut off, rescuing a Thai princess whose father was in cahoots with said criminal organization—the reason why she's being held hostage as leverage—then escaping with her in a car and being pursued across the country by a helicopter and countless vehicles sent by the syndicate.
You should really be dead by now. Four times over.
Countless bruises, and wounds from bullets, blades, and everything that is designed to kill a man—any of these alone would be enough to permanently break any person, and you're no athlete or assassin; you're just a regular guy on what you thought was a promising vacation. It's a miracle that you're still breathing, more so standing, running on your feet towards the car you've taken refuge in, now on its roof and in flames.
Forget about the millions you've also stolen from the mafia; you're thankful to be alive.
Unfortunately, your miraculous plot armor doesn't seem to have passed on to the princess. At a glance, she appears to have only minor cuts and bruises like yours, but she's laying on the tarmac, completely unconscious and unresponsive.
"Princess! Princess!" You shout, turn her face up and slap her cheek, checking for any signs of life. Blood trickles down her dirty face from her forehead, her lips, and her nose. You lean against her chest and press a thumb on her wrist, desperately seeking for a pulse.
Not a single response, not a single sign. She's as good as dead.
Though you barely knew the woman, in the quiet moments when you weren't dreading your surroundings, you grew feelings for her. Her beauty was befitting of her royal title, and despite her nobility, she never really thought much of it other than a personal burden. She only wanted to live a normal life, and you sympathized with her plight, even though you were merely a tourist passing through, unfamiliar with her customs and culture.
She didn't deserve to die because of other people's stupidity and recklessness, including yours.
You couldn't bear to leave her alone. The survivor's guilt hurts you more than anything that could have physically killed you. Sure, her family might not hold you responsible for their daughter's death, but considering you ran off with her and traveled the entire country to find a safe haven, you might as well be an accomplice in their eyes. If not them, the media will.
You wanted to be by her side for as long as you could, praying for a miracle, but your instincts tell you to keep moving, to keep fighting.
You haven't eaten anything for two days, and there's nothing nearby that remotely resembles human civilization for miles. The sun has begun setting down, and soon enough, you'll be prey to ferocious animals and the ruthless cold night. Despite this, you still have no intention to leave her. You're just hoping the rescue promised by the national defense reaches you before it's too late.
