#read a description of a panic attack where everyone noticed

[campfire-collective]

sometimes i wish i could just...show trauma symptoms.

#mine #mod hearth #read a description of a panic attack where everyone noticed #and like #holy shit #i wish i could just #panic in a way that other people knew i was distressed

[twenty-thirty-two]

Restless

Poly!Marauders x female!reader

Warnings: mention of nightmares, brief description of mini panic attack (nothing too detailed), reader has hair that can be braided (doesn’t necessarily mean straight)

a/n: long overdue! I’m not too happy with how I ended this, had the right idea but can never figure out how to wrap it up :,)

Please understand that because I am 18+, I do not want minors on my page or reading my work

I also do not consent to my work being reposted on other sites, translated or copied

Nightmares

They’re your minds way of telling you that you’re not safe, even when you’re asleep

The sudden drop of your stomach was enough to wake you. Rather jolt you awake. You laid there, staring up at the ceiling trying to gather your thoughts and even out your breathing. Nightmares plague your nights, not one day passes where you’re not awakened with the memory of loved ones dying, or indescribable monsters attacking. No matter what it is, it’s after you, relentlessly.

Despite being recently awakened, you couldn’t remember what it was that scared you in the first place. You just felt this daunting feeling and now you’re awake, laying next to Remus, who is blissfully none the wiser of your current situation.

You debated waking him, he’d gladly stay up and hold you until you’ve drifted off in his arms.

That’s the issue- he’d do it without a second thought. You’d feel too guilty about waking him from his current slumber.

You sat up slowly, pulling your knees up to your chest. You run your hands over your face in frustration. Looking over, you see Sirius and James, entangled in one another’s arms, soundly sleeping.

Their serenity brews a feeling of jealousy in you. How you wish that was you.

You grab a nearby cardigan (you’re not even sure whose it is at this point) and slip quietly out of the dorm. You don’t even know where you’re going or how long you’re going to be out but you needed to get out of there.

Back in the dorm, Remus, half-asleep, throws his arm over to your side of the bed in order to pull you closer.

Upon hitting the empty side of the mattress, he lazily patted the area in search of your warmth. In a sleep-ridden haze, he became increasingly aware that you weren’t in bed, opening an eye, he peaked around to look for any sign of you. When he didn’t see you or your shoes, he assumed you were in the bathroom, and that seemed to calm his mind enough to go back to sleep.

You found yourself outside, breathing in the cool air of the night. A light breeze surrounded you, now ever so grateful that you brought some coverage. Ultimately, you decided that a midnight stroll around would be your best hope.

Wrapping the beige-color cardigan tighter around your body, the welcoming scent of James’ cologne overwhelms your senses. You fiddle with a loose thread on the left sleeve, no doubt the work of Remus during late night study sessions long after everyone else is asleep. The barely noticeable, yet, clear as day stain near the end aisle of buttons brings you back to the day when Sirius and James had a butterbeer drinking contest, the golden liquid dribbling down either side of the boy’s mouth, ultimately staining the cardigan, the rambunctiousness of the event was enough for Remus to chastise the aforementioned boy, going as far as to continue shoving drink after drink while you kept encouraging James.

The moon, acting as a guiding light as you make your way through the dark grounds. After some time aimlessly walking through, you decided to make your way back to the boys’ dorm.

For some reason, tonight was just one of those nights for Remus, when he simply could not get comfortable. The soft mattress has become a bed of stones, he hypothesizes that the floor would be much more comfortable at this point. As he’s dramatically throwing himself to face your side of the bed, he feels your side to be cold. This causes him to immediately sit up, messy tussles of hair standing in all directions. He throws the blanket off of him and sets out to the common room where he supposes you’d be.

Just as you’re welcomed into the common room, you’re startled by Remus’ sudden presence.

“Where’ve you been, bunny?” He pulls you into his side as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest.

“Can’t sleep.” He manages to make out the muffled words and sighs.

“Had me worried when I woke up and you weren’t there.” You mumbled an apology that would’ve resulted in a quirked eyebrow and quick scolding.

He ushered the two of you up to the room and back to bed. Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night, and when you finally did fall asleep, you jolted awake every so often. The same feeling you get when you’re dreaming that you’re falling. You knew that sleep was very important to Remus, always making sure that none of you stay up late and always making sure to get an early start to your morning, much to James’ dismay.

After what felt like a lifetime, you managed to drift off. Not long before you’re awoken by screaming and Sirius shaking you awake. You can hear Remus calling your name and a caressing hand on your head. You’re quick to realize that the screaming is coming from you. Your heart beating erratically and suddenly feeling like there’s not enough air in the room. You try to sit up but the most you can do is prop yourself up onto your elbows as sobs begin to escape from you.

To your left, you see Sirius running into the room with a glass of water and some cookies, shoving them into Remus’ hands. You’re looking at the situation in front of you but you cannot seem to focus, everything is too loud, too bright, and too overwhelming.

“Y/N/N? I need you to take some deep breaths for us, honey. Here, feel my heart- In and out.” Remus is sitting next to you, attempting to direct your breathing but you can only see straight ahead, hand limp in his hand.

James’ anxiety always skyrockets whenever one of you is in distress, he finds himself never doing enough despite having done the opposite. He’ll often look to Remus for instructions but always finds himself trying by one’s side bringing in his own form of comfort.

Sirius remained stoic, scared out of his mind for you; he didn’t know what to do, internally kicking himself for not jumping into action right away. He wanted to hold you- close to his chest and hide you away from all the pain in the world.

After another couple of minutes, A single tear slipped out, the sudden wet contact against your skin startled you. Your eyes drifted between the boys, a mix of worried, scared, and overall concern pales their faces. Teary eyes lock with James, his eyes full of sympathy and kindness. One after another, tears flow and a sigh of relief is released from your lungs.

After a beat, Sirius is the first to speak.

“What happened, bunny?”

“Haven’t-” A hiccup escapes

“Haven’t been sleeping well- nightmares.”

James leans forward and places a delicate kiss to your forehead, his hand cupping your face.

“How long?” Remus’ head cocked a tad to the side.

“‘Dunno, while maybe.” You mumbled. He taps your chin to get you to look at him.

“Know you’re tired, but I need you to speak clearly, honey.”

“I don’t know, few days?”

“Is that why you weren’t in bed last night? Y’had a nightmare?” You nod.

“C’mere.” Sirius holds out his arms and you crawl right into them

“This can’t continue, you know.” You nod.

“Siri’s right, Y/N/N, you need hours of uninterrupted sleep, running on 10 hours of sleep throughout a span of a few days isn’t healthy. Tomorrow, we’re going to see Pomfrey, see if she can give you something for the time being.” Remus smiles halfway as he notices that James has pulled you away from Sirius and begun braiding your hair.

The rest of the time the boys spent doting on you, making sure you were satisfied. You were hungry? Sirius brought you a plate of fruit. Thirsty? Remus made you a warm cup of tea. Need affection and cuddles? James practically pushes the two out of the way to plop himself beside you. They felt for you, they really did, nothing was worse than seeing their favorite person in the world in misery and not being able to do anything themselves. They’d take away all of the misery and pain at the drop of a hat if it meant that you were safe and happy all the time.

#poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders #poly marauders #poly marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #mel writes

[sweetracha]

Hihi!🩷<3

I've never sent an ask before and I'm a little nervous but you seem super nice and sweet!

I was wondering if you could do mommy!Jisung fic or HCs or literally anything you want, ive been reading your Felix and Minho ones and ohemgeeeeee I love it so so so much! Please don't feel pressured to do this you can totes ignore it if you want, thank youuuu😘🫶 mwah

Do I sign off with something, idk- byeee

Mommy! Han Headcannon

Warning: Mommy Dom Han, ANGST, Description of Panic Attacks (Based on my personal experience with them, they manifest differently for everyone), Little note of punishment, mostly fluffy with a hint of smut.

The mommy thing came as a complete surprise to both of you

It wasn't planned, it was discussed, it wasn't even noticed at first

While most things like these are born out of excitement and fun

This one instead came out during a terrible situation

The kitchen floor you sunk down on was cold and bit at your exposed thighs, sleep shorts did nothing to protect you.

Your shirt felt too tight like a snake slowly constricting around your throat

Your heartbeat screamed in your ears and lurched in your chest

Breathing was nauseating

The room was expanding and shrinking all at once

The bubble around you was shrinking

shrinking

shrinking

but it wouldn't pop

You poked it, hit it, screamed at it, did everything you could

it wouldn't fucking pop

You closed in on yourself, seeing the ledge and knowing you were going off

your nails sunk into your flesh as you held on for dear life

"Baby? FUCK! baby, why are you on the floor"

Han came home a bit later from the studio, fully expecting to find you waking up from your afternoon nap

When he turned the corner to set down his things there you were. White as a ghost and shaking.

Immediately he pried your hand from your arms and held them in his.

He kneeled down and hissed from the freezing tile.

"Baby, shhhh. I need you to listen. Can you hear me? It's just panic sweetheart, nothing is coming for you."

"Bubble, closing, fast"

"No, it isn't. Look I'm in the bubble, see. If I was able to get inside the bubble then the bubble isn't closing, it's getting bigger. I'm here, baby I'm here." A gentle hand cupped your face, slowly bringing your eyes to his.

Glassy eyes looked back

"Mommy is here?"

He didn't even question it, if this is what you needed then this is what he would give you

"Yes baby, mommy is here. come to mommy"

You had no memory of what happened that night and Han was afraid to approach the subject

It was a secret he kept, eating him alive

Every time he looked at you he wanted to blurt it out

All Han ever wanted to do was to be your safety, clearly Mommy was that comfort you needed

He picked at his hand and rubbed his legs raw while watching a movie one night

You could tell from his fidgeting something was wrong, his anxiety was building.

"Hannie, What's wrong baby?"

"NOTHING!. sorry nothing is wrong"

"Han...What is it"

"I can't tell you!"

"You can tell me anything, you know that. Jesus you just watched me have a full-blown panic attack last week! Speak to me"

"I need it"

"Need what"

"Mommy."

"Y-You want to call me mommy? Han that's not a bad thing-"

"No...I need to be yours, please" His eyes are now made of the same glass as yours.

Slowly Mommy Han came in and out of your lives

It was clear Mommy was saved for those special nights

Those nights when you needed a bit more love

Where he needed a bit more reassurance

Where you both needed a bit more comfort

Sex with Mommy was soft and sweet

Slow and loving

Praising with no underlying degradation

He would kiss every inch of your skin light as a feather, not to overstimulate you

Cumming wasn't always something that happened either

No, Mommy Han just needed to be there with you and to love you

This didn't mean Mommy Han went without disciplining you

But whereas others would spank, overstim, or deny

He simply scolded you. A bit of humiliation mixed in.

"So worried Mommy wasn't thinking about you that you had to go and send me that little picture hmm? I bet it eased your mind, putting your sexy body in mommy's mind but an act like that can't go unpunished can it? Now Mommy is going to call Chan and Changbin back to finish the meeting you so rudely interrupted. You my dear are going to sit on my cock like the good little thing I know you are and be quiet. Got it?"

While the meeting was long and punishing to you, Han made sure to stay as still as possible.

Han would tease, but Mommy would never.

Soon you wake up to Han slowly thrusting into you, a blank screen indicating the meeting had ended.

"Shhh pretty baby, go back to sleep. Mommy has you. Uh Uh, Mommy knows you'll be good for him and go right back to sleep, right baby? Shhhh just like that. Goodnight baby, Mommy loves you"

That last part didn't need to be said

You never doubted Mommy's love for you

Every time Han made sure you knew

Just how much Mommy adored you

The Sweetest Batch: @goblinracha @kaciidubs @channieandhisgoonsquad @comet-falls @ddyskz @jiminskies @j-onedrabbles @lixiesweetbrownie @marrivmel @caitlyn98s

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #han jisung x reader #mommy!Han

[moethewriter]

Hello I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but can I request a Johanna Mason x reader where reader won the games a year after Johanna and during the 73rd Hunger Games. When they are forced to go back and mentor, reader has a breakdown watching her friends die and Johanna goes and comforts her.

Of course I can anon! Please enjoy! TITLE: Together? Together WORD COUNT: 1.2k PAIRING: Johanna Mason x Reader WARNINGS: Brief descriptions of a panic attack, violence and abuse and general hunger games things TAGS: GN! District 9 Reader! A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and to those who don't I hope you're enjoying your day! I loved writing this and would love more Johanna requests because I adore her as a character, and as always please let me know if I need to add any warnings or tags and constructive critisicms is always allowed! Not beta read as per usual! -

You didn’t ask to be a mentor, in fact you rather dreaded it. You had only been a Victor for a year, and you were no longer mentally capable of helping anyone. You were healing, had been healing from the horrors that you had gone through. How were you supposed to mentor and gain sponsors for Clive and Reeva? How were you supposed to tell them everything was going to be fine when you knew they weren’t going to be. Clive was barely thirteen and Reeva only sixteen, and they felt so much younger than your age of nineteen.

Being a Victor wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, sure you got more food for your District and it came with a cushy little home in The Victors Village. But you knew, had always known that District 9 was not a powerhouse, your District had hardly won in all these years, though far better off than 11 or 12, you knew you were most likely sending your friends, kids you had watched grown up to their deaths.

“Better get back in there.” A voice spoke from behind you. “Your tributes need you, you know?”

“Johanna.” You nodded, throwing the cigarette over the railing of the building. You had picked up smoking after your games. It wasn’t the healthiest habit, and cigarettes could be hard to come by but you needed something to numb the ache in your chest.

“Come on Y/N.” Johanna rolled her eyes. “You can’t let them see how fucked up you are right now. Focus on those kids and hope for the best outcome.” She moved to stand beside you, her shoulders gently brushing yours.

Johanna had always come with tough love. She had won the year before you, had tricked everyone and made sure she came out of that arena alive. You respected her in so many ways for that. You had met her during your tour, and she had been aloof but kind to you in the ways she could be. She and Finnick Odair had become great friends to you, but Johanna came with a gruffness that not many could handle. She carried a deep seeded anger and sadness with her, that was the first thing you had noticed. You had always been good at reading people that way.

You knew why she was the way she was, of course you did. She had told you one night when you all had gotten drunk off your asses in The Capitol. It was hard to hear, and realizing that could’ve been your family if you hadn’t submitted to Snow’s whims made your stomach churn. It was horrible, and you knew Johanna blamed herself even if she didn’t say another word about it.

“I wasn’t cut out for this, Johanna.” You sigh, leaning against the railing. “I don’t understand why they even made me a mentor. I’m clearly not mentally capable of any of this. I was only there a year ago.” You wiped a hand down your face, hoping to shed some of the exhaustion you felt.

“Snow did the same to me, same to Finnick.” Johanna told you, not meeting your eyes and focusing on the buildings in the distance. “He wants us to remember what we saw, and know we're sending people to their deaths so he can keep control. They weren’t going to let me back this year since I destroyed property here last year but they needed another mentor.” She snorted. 

“We should get back in there.” You cracked a gentle smile at her words.

You knew she was doing her best to make you feel better. She always tried, to little success most times, but trying was all you could ask of her. It was more than enough.

-

The cannon boomed so loudly and you could feel the hot tears leaking down your face. They were gone, they were fucking gone. You hadn’t done your job and now two promising people from your district are dead. You could feel the air leave your lungs and you couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t fucking see, you were fucking trapped in this room and everything felt like it was caving in. You were dry heaving by the time you felt yourself being pulled away from the other mentors and citizens. You wanted to fight but you couldn't. You were so tired of fighting.

“Hey, look at me Y/N.”

Johanna?

“Look at me.” You could feel two hands gently cup your face as you sobbed. “It’s not okay, none of this is fucking okay. Alright? But you gotta stay with me.” 

You had never heard Johanna be this gentle with anyone. She was still Johanna, as she always was. But there was something about her right now, something almost loving and far more sincere then she had ever been.

“You’re going to be okay. We will be okay because were fucking fighters Y/N. This world could burn around us, and we will be okay. You and I were two sides of the same coin, you understand me? We’re going to get through this, we always do.” She was stroking your cheek, a gesture you never thought you would receive from her. “I got you. I got you Y/N and I am not letting you go. Ever. I am always going to be here. Can I hold you?” Johanna questioned.

You nodded as she gathered you into her arms, rocking you as if you were a child. You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so distraught. You had never presented strong, you weren’t strong but to do this in front of everyone? Snow would surely punish you in unspeakable ways … But Johanna was here, she was here and she had you. That was far better than anything else right now. 

“It’s not right.” You whispered after a long silence. “It’s not right that they do this to us, that they kill us for entertainment and expect us to stand there and smile. I’m so done Johanna, I am so done with everything.” You sniffled, leaning into her.

“I know.” She whispered into your hair. “I know.”

“I want a better life for us, I want us to not live in fear that our children or friends could die at any moment. I want us to not be under Snow’s thumb. I want us to live a happy life together but none of that seems possible.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, as she stroked your hair.

The air hitting all around felt so cold compared to the comfort and warmth of Johanna’s arms. Like small icicles piercing through the shield she had created. 

“And we will have a better life.” Johanna told you. “We’re going to have a better life and we’re going to be so fucking happy and carefree and if Snow ever tries anything I’ll shove an axe hilt so far up his ass that it’s not going to come out.” She told you, leaning down to kiss your head. 

You snorted at the mental image.

“Now let’s get back in there and show these Capitol fuckheads what we're made of.” She said, holding you a little tighter.

“Together?” You whispered.

“Together.” She confirmed.

#moeswriting #writing #hunger games #the hunger games #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— the mystery of misery (PREVIEW) + katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა — hello everyone !! so as you know i'm finally releasing the southern!kiribaku fic, which will be posted to both tumblr and ao3. there’s list of tags and warnings for when it goes up down below. there's a taglist form and dedicated playlist, and links to where you can find the fic! these will be updated on the day!! interaction is welcome!! preview below the cut!

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 RELEASE DATE — 20/01/23

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 WORD COUNT — 51.1K

✩ TUMBLR LINK / AO3 LINK / PLAYLIST / TAGLIST ✩

⭑ SUMMARY — you’ve spent your whole life running from the shackles of your past and the misery surrounding it, but, after the death of your estranged mother— you return to your small hometown to lay her to rest. while you’re there, the whispers of whiteridge begin to unravel, revealing mysteries of love, loss and lies that all tie back to a childhood flame and the town’s recluse.

⭑ GENERAL WARNINGS — please read + mdni ! heavy!angst, heavy!smut, fluff, happy ending, characters aged up to twenties, strangers/childhood friends to lovers, major character deaths, themes of death, injury descriptions (bones), murder mystery, childhood trauma, gaslighting, manipulation, arguments, fight scenes, anxiety, panic attacks, therapy, pet names (sweetheart, darling, baby etc.), fem!reader, southern!au, small town!au, quirkless!au.

⭑ SMUT WARNINGS — three scenes, protected/unprotected sex, drunk sex, clothed sex, oral sex (m + f!receiving), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering (f!receiving), nipple play, body worship, dry humping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm control, choking, biting, scratching, marking, threesomes, cucking, frottage, double vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies, possession, birth control, condom usage, aftercare, light!degradation, light!dumbification, light!dacryphilia, light!baby trapping, strength!kink, praise!kink, size!kink, spit!kink, uses of cunt, pussy, cock dick etc. reader is picked up/carried.

some memories are easier to forget than others.

like scars, they can fade with time until they’re hardly noticeable— as if they were never even there to begin with. others cling to familiar scents and sights and sensations, etched into the landscape of your brain never to be erased, never to be replaced. no matter how hard you try, certain memories will always come back to you— close in on you like a shadow in the night, jolting you from your peaceful present day.

“no one hates this place as much as i do, people like us gotta stick together.” the pale blonde with the dauntingly beautiful vermillion stare; smirks— exposing a row of sharpened pearly whites that make your heart stutter in its place residing in your chest. “’sides, i meant what i said earlier. i think yer pretty.”

his smirk turns dopey, a coy smile crossing his perfectly slanted lips, sending your brain into some kind of frenzy. bakugou leans in real close, having turned to face you fully as well, and lets his hand slide over your jean clad knee— further and further until it settles on the swell of your thigh, giving it a hearty squeeze.

“oh yeah?” kirishima doesn’t like that you’re sad. he spent too much of his teen years watching you drown in it. “well maybe—!” pulling himself off of you ( regretfully ), he quickly hops off the truck to stand between your legs— hoisting you by the backs of your thighs into the air so he can twirl you around in his arms. “you just got shorter!”

the night sky twists into a Milky Way cocktail above you, pure and genuine laughter spilling from between your lips ( your lipstick has long worn off by now ) as you hook your ankles at the small of kirishima’s back to keep yourself secure.

“oaf? sweetheart, do you two know each other?” kirishima grunts defensively, squaring himself in front of you as if to protect you from katsuki’s leering gaze.

“know each other?” bakugou interjects before you can, smirk only widening. “we slept together, shitty hair. couple days ago, weren’t it, baby? she took me real fuckin’ good—“

ding ! — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate repost nor recommend on tiktok the fics seen below as this is strictly prohibited. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

#kiribaku x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

[andreas-river]

Would you be open to a Reader who is having a panic attack due to Anxiety and König (who is a stranger to them) happens to be there to help calm them down? I would love to read how you would set up the scene <3

König X GN!Reader

Words count: approx. 1k.

A/N: Apparently I received two identical requests - I don't know whether from the same person or two different ones, but here they are. Sorry it took me so long, but I had another writer's block, but I think I am satisfied with this one. Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, description of panick attack, mention of death, fluff, good ending, no body descriprion so gn!reader.

Disclaimer: I can'y say this enough: if you are experiencing this, seek help: it's not easy to deal with this alone. Talk to a friend or to someone you trust: it will get better, trust me.

════════════════════

It was not the first time a mission had gone wrong: you had seen deep wounds many times, had been too close to death and had touched those lifeless bodies with your own hands.

But as soon as your boots touched the ground of the base, everything came flooding back into you, the earth disappearing beneath you, leaving you alone, floating in the void of your mind.

You knew what was happening to you, but your mind was running wildly, giving you no time to stop, to think of an escape plan that would allow you to send away the thousand thoughts crowding your head. Even though your body threatened to give out under your weight, you made your way through the corridors of the base with unsteady steps, looking for a corner where you could hide; you didn't care that all your equipment was still on you.

Flashes of images flashed through the memories of the past with the one person you cared about more than anyone else, and now his body was locked in a black body bag, the only reason you had signed up was so that you could escape the horrible life you had grown up in.

She was your best friend, the closest one you ever had.

You had not expected to be alone so soon: you had not been able to get close to anyone else, and everyone else seemed too unreachable now. The pain tore you open from the inside, leaving no room for anything from the outside.

One of the base courtyards was completely empty; no one went out at this late hour.

You tried to control your breathing, counting each time you inhaled and exhaled, but you kept losing count, forgetting each attempt. Your heart seemed to want to jump out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating, the burning in your chest increasing exponentially with each breath you took.

You can't remember how many years ago you had your last panic attack, but this one had returned with the force of a tidal wave, hitting you full force and leaving you weak and helpless in front of the storm inside of you.

The sound of footsteps behind you did not help you to return to reality, and it was impossible to stop the tears and sobs that were now uncontrollable.

Through eyes blurred by tears, you had been able to make out a pair of blue eyes through the holes in the mask that completely covered his face: he was sitting across from you, without saying a word or doing anything in particular.

"Sometimes it's not enough that it's sunny outside, is it?" he began to speak as your body continued to shake with sobs.

The first thing you noticed was his knees brushing against yours, bringing your body back into contact with the reality around you.

"It always seems to rain, especially on days like this," he exhaled, looking at the sky above your heads. Instinctively, you imitated him. It was already night, many clouds covered the black sky, and the stars you could see were small and far away.

"But it's not so bad, the rain I mean," you felt his words being spoken with a smile, even though his face remained covered the whole time. "Sometimes you don't even need an umbrella."

You finally manage to identify a vague German accent - maybe Austrian - and his eyes staring at you intently through the mask.

"Feeling better?"

At his words, you notice your breathing slowing to a normal rhythm, the burning in your chest completely gone, and the panic completely gone from your mind.

All that remained was a dull ache inside you that made you dizzy, but nothing else.

"Better... yes," you nod slowly, still not sure of your interior state. "How did you do that?"

"They say that distracting your mind during a panic attack helps a lot."

You nod again and stand up, followed closely by the man in front of you, who turns out to be much taller than you expected - you even had to tilt your neck to get a good look at him.

"I know what it's like to have panic attacks, and it's never been easy to deal with them when you're alone," he tells you, tilting his head to the side.

Cute.

"I'm König, by the way, they transferred us from the old base the other day. If you ever need help, you can find me in the gym, I'm often there."

You smile slightly, the weight in your chest now gone without a trace. He started to walk away, but you stopped him abruptly and made him turn back to you.

You wanted to say so many things, your mind racing again, but with different thoughts, happier, lighter than the older ones.

"Thank you."

And even though you only spoke two words, you hope that he read in them all the other things you wanted to say to him, how much you wanted to thank him for doing something you never expected a stranger to do, and that what he did for you was something you would never forget, and that you would keep that memory among the most precious ones in your heart.

Along with all future ones.

#könig x reader #könig x gn!reader #call of duty könig #cod könig x reader #könig #könig modern warfare #könig call of duty #könig x gender neutral reader #könig x you #call of duty #cod #call of duty mw2 #cod mwii #cod könig #request #request open

[marvelwitchergilmore]

The Look Of Terror

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You joined Shield and when you're placed under a certain Team Leader, Peter can't help but worry about you.

Disclaimer: This is more platonic co-worker vibes, I think? Rather than romance? But there is romance in it? Fluff, angst, Peter takes care of the reader. Description of a panic attack, kidnapping, bombs and an asshole of a Team Leader. I'm a little unsure about this one. Comment if you'd like a Part 2???

You were new to the team. 

It was no surprise since you joined a week late into the program that your Team Leader pushed you harder than the rest of them. But you were okay with it, most of the time. In the times where you weren’t, you’d spend a couple hours in the library reading of worlds that didn’t exist - or at least, you hoped didn’t exist. Because, for as much as seeing a fire-breathing dragon would be cool, it could also destroy most of the population of New York in one breath. 

It was six months into the program that Peter finally saw you. 

Not that you had noticed. 

He saw you on your first day of arrival. He heard your name mentioned in passing and that was as far as it went. Until the training rooms had to be pushed into one due to a leak in the women’s bathroom. It was then that you caught Peter’s eye. 

But not because of your looks, although he didn’t fail to notice your beauty. But because of the familiar look in your eyes. 

It took him a while to figure it out; what exactly the look was in the beginning, he couldn’t be too sure. 

For over a month, he studied you. 

You weren’t a part of his team. In fact, you were with a whole other training division. But in the days when he saw you, he studied you as best as he could before it could become border-line creepy. 

He saw you talk to people, but they never became friends with you. You were happy to help out people when they were struggling but most times, you were left on your own. Whilst other groups studied the Shield Handbook together, cutting the 500 page manual into respectable chunks, you sat on your own in the corner. A few people would look over to you and snigger or sneer. One trainee had said aloud about asking you to join them but everyone else shut the idea down right away. You were the rookie. 

What baffled Peter was the fact that the group of trainees, who refused to collaborate with you, were rookie’s too. 

Then, one day, he pulled your file. 

You had the highest test score out of your group. You were intelligent and smart. You had enough strength training to be transferred into a higher level but due to your qualifying status, you would only move up when the rest of the rookie’s did, too. 

So, after all of this, when he found you in the library alone one night, he decided to talk to you. 

“You must know that thing like the back of your hand.” 

Peter saw you jump a little and instantly regretted not making himself known to you sooner. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. I-I should be heading home now, anyway.”

“You’ve finished that book three times this week alone. Shouldn’t you be out with the others having a…drink or something?”

“Maybe, but…I kind of prefer my solitude.”

“Ah, the mysterious lonesome type?”

“Some may beg to differ.”

“I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“You’re a part of Abbot's team, aren’t you?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve seen your file.”

“You pulled my file?”

“That and I’ve seen him train you twice a week when all agents share the training room.”

A look of realisation crossed over your face. “Oh, shit. Sorry, you’re Agent Parker.”

“Please, call me Peter. Everyone else does.”

“By the handbook says-”

“That all employees refer to their Team Leaders by their working title.” Peter sounded off. “That was something written by Fury to keep HR happy. To be honest, I’ve never really liked it. You’re meant to be a team, and how can that happen if agents are too busy worrying about calling their team leader by their official title.”

“You have a point, but Abbot-”

“Drill it into you.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to vent to, you can talk to me.”

“Thank you.” Then after a moment of consideration you asked; “Why you?”

Peter nodded. “I worked with Abbot before Barton came back. I’ve seen how he can train those in his team. I’ve also seen that your group doesn’t exactly seem to strive for trust. It can be hard, working alone. Believe me, I would know.”

“Well, thank you.”

The next day, as you sat alone in the cafeteria, you were slightly startled to find Peter place his food tray down in front of you. “May I?”

“G-Go ahead.”

It shocked you a little; how much Peter was trying to talk to you. By this point, you had been in the program almost six months and no one, other than Abbot when he was barking orders, bothered to try and interact with you - on any scale of capacity. 

And, for the following two weeks, it continued to happen. 

Peter would sit down with you in the cafeteria whenever you had a break from training together. He would join you in the library on late nights when he had to make test scores and you were going over the handbook once more. 

But it wasn’t until one evening when Peter noticed you had been a bit off for a couple of days, that he finally asked you what he’d been dying to ask you for weeks. 

There was a distant look in your eyes. Like as if something had crept its way out of the locked box you kept it sealed in, and was slowly making its way to the front of your brain. 

“What happened?”

It took you a moment to adjust back to reality before you could finally hear Peter’s question. 

“What?”

“What happened?”

“When?”

“Before you joined the programme.”

Peter could see you studying him before he saw a wall go up in front of your eyes. “Nothing.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened. I already told you why I joined Shield.”

Peter said your name, “I know the look of a horrible memory when I see it. What-”

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Peter. So, can you please just drop it?”

“Yes, sorry.”

You pulled the handbook back in front of you and began to skim through it again and again and again. 

Except, that wall that your build would soon crumble, even as you fought for it to stay standing. 

Three weeks later, and not saying a word to Peter, you found yourself in a training day that Abbot had set up without telling anyone. 

“You’re gonna have to stay on your toes. It’s not easy out there, so, first up!” 

Your name was called. 

Others were called after you and you were given five minutes to understand your mission. And it took everything in you not to stop breathing. 

As Peter made his way down to the training room, he found a “friendly” competition. The other Team Leaders had decided to get involved this time round and people were cheering and chanting and others were completely silent. 

And only then did he understand why. 

In the centre of the crowd, knelt three people and in the middle of them was you. 

No one else noticed, but Peter did. 

Your hands, despite the composure you were holding, were beginning to shake. Your eyes seemed glossier than the last time he had seen you and your breathing wasn’t like anyone else's. It was shattered. 

And, as much as he wanted to stop what was happening, he knew if he did, it would probably make it worse. 

Less than 30 seconds later, you were finished on the task in front of you and you stood back. 

“Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds!” Abbot called out your time. 

Peter watched as you turned your back and removed some of the equipment from your body before pushing your way to the back of the crowd. He rounded the corner of the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. 

A few minutes later, he watched as Abbot awarded one of the Rookie’s a gift-card of some kind and a medal. 

“Okay, that’s it for today! See you tomorrow!”

But you were the only one to leave. 

And Peter was hot on your train. 

From the moment you were given your task, your breathing was hitched in your chest and you couldn’t just quite fill your lungs with enough air to stop them from beating against your heart rapidly. 

Throughout the seven and a half minutes it took you to complete the task Abbot had given to you, you had been slowly losing clear vision due to the tears of old memories ripping their way into your mind. 

And once time had finally been called, you just had to force yourself to hold out a little bit longer. 

But, when your legs began to give out on you, you rushed to find a wall to support you. 

And, you did, for a moment. 

Your breathing was unsteady and out of control. Your head felt like it was spinning and you were going to throw up, all the while you could feel every single particle of blood in your body trying to fight its way into and through your heart. 

In a hazy distance, you heard someone call your name and you tried your best to focus and remain in control, but it didn’t work. 

It wasn’t until you heard a door click open behind you and a steady hand lead you inside that you sank to the floor in a weak attempt to try and ground your emotions. 

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up and recognised the person who had helped you into the room. 

Peter.

You couldn’t speak. So Peter tried his best to calm you. 

“Just focus on my voice. Can you do that? It’s going to be okay. No one can hurt you here. You’re safe. I need you to keep looking at me. Here, pass me your hand.”

Peter took your trembling hand in his and held it against his heart. 

“I need you to try and focus on the beats. Can you do that for me?”

It took you a moment, but when Peter pressed his hand over yours so it pushed further into his chest, you finally felt his heartbeat against your palm. 

You tried your best to keep track of them, counting each one as they came. 

“Okay, good. Now, can you follow my breaths?”

You tried your best to follow his breaths. Breathing in with him, and breathing out just the same. 

It took a while but eventually your breathing returned, though it pained your chest a little when you did take in a deep breath. 

At some point, Peter had moved to sit beside you, placing an arm around you, yet still holding your hand against his chest. 

You didn’t know how long had passed before Peter spoke. It both felt instant and as if forever had passed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.”

You didn’t want to recount, just yet. You didn’t want to remember, just yet. 

Eventually the light in the room dimmed and you found yourself standing. Peter had taken off his jumper before placing it on you. He had felt you shivering for the last hour but every time he went to move and give you his zip-neck jumper, he felt your hand hold him tighter not wishing him to move. 

At some point, you found yourself inside of your home with Peter by your side, switching the kettle on without having to ask which is your favourite mug. 

Peter didn’t say anything. He just let you sit by your kitchen island and stare at your hands for as long as you needed. 

“It all started about two years ago.” you started, without even meaning to. “I, uh, I had been working the night shift. I worked in an emergency vet surgery. Anyway, one night, two guys came in. They said they had a horse outside that was giving birth but they couldn’t deliver the foul. It wasn’t rare that we got cases like this, so I grabbed my bag and rushed outside. But, instead of a horse trailer with a labouring mare, I found myself being carted off to a farm ten miles out of town.”

Peter slid the freshly made tea across to you before sitting down on one of the stools allowing the corner of the island to come between the both of you. 

“I had…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

You gave Peter a small nod, too emotionally exhausted to try and fight. 

You took a breath. “I had…found myself on a farm and all I remembered was getting hit over the head and when I woke up I was strapped into a ticking bomb.”

You recounted everything to Peter, from the moment when you woke up and what was going through your head, to managing to find your medical bag which they hadn’t hid well, if at all. And, how, from that, you had tried your best to get out and stop the bomb from going off whilst it was still attached to you. 

The fact that you had, by some miracle, managed to get away before it went off and blew up the barn was beyond you. But once Barton had found out, he wanted you in Shield. You had most of the medical training and with some training, you could become a major asset within Shield, helping eventually train medics in the organisation - even if you had started out as a Vet. 

It was safe to say Peter was pissed about Abbot's actions. 

Hell, it was even in the handbook and probably within the file that Abbot would have full access to since he was your Team Leader. 

You, under no circumstance, were to be put into a situation like you had been put in just hours earlier until you had clearance from a licensed medical therapist. And, after a few questions, Peter found that you hadn’t. 

Yes, you had clearance to train. You had clearance to practise. But when it came to something you had been so close with facing yourself? No. 

Again, time passed and before you knew it, you had come back around and your wall had slowly started to build back up. 

“I should probably go to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You tried to assure him. 

Eventually, Peter got up to leave but looking down at your top, you called out to him. 

“Sorry, here’s your top.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Peter turned to leave once again but then turned back. “Oh, here…just in case.”

You looked down and found Peter’s card. It contained his name, office address and his phone number. 

“If Abbot tries something like today again…”

“I’ll be sure to call.” you nodded, though Peter feared that what you were saying had no meaning. That you would continue through it, pushing your emotions against your brick wall as hard as you could before you broke again. 

“I mean it, Y/N. He shouldn’t have done that today.”

“I’ll be okay, Peter. I promise.”

AS the door closed behind him, Peter feared that you had made a promise you couldn’t keep, despite how much he knew you would try to.

#peter parker #peter parker x fe!reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland! peter parker #though you can see it as a different actor of Spider-Man if you want #fluff #angst #taking care of reader #co-workers #falling in love? #platonic ships #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #spider-man x reader #spiderman x reader #agent parker x reader #agent!peter parker #agent!peter parker x reader

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter 5

Joel Miller x F!Reader.

Angsty slow burn. Your first day in Jackson goes as well as expected. Word count 3255.

Warnings for descriptions of the effects of PTSD and battling panic attacks (these are PURELY based on my own personal experiences).

I had to split this chapter into two so Joel isn't here much, but from next chapter he will be very present. Thank you for reading and sticking with it!

Come Home

Chapter Five - Asphyxiated

Welcome warmth hits your face as the girl pushes the door of the town’s watering hole open, and you stamp your boots free of snow and slush before crossing the threshold.

The Tipsy Bison is an old fashioned, homespun kind of place. With its mix of wood panelled and stone walls, decorative antlers and soft, yellow lighting it could be straight out of an old Western - although thankfully the low level of chatter does not fall to silence as you enter. There are more than a few curious glances directed your way, though. The girl seems not to notice and makes a beeline straight for Maria who is talking with someone - presumably the barman, given that he is behind the bar and polishing glasses with a dishcloth. He is an older man with a shock of white hair and a dour expression.

“-you’ll be okay to do that, Seth?” you hear Maria ask as you approach. The barman nods once, firmly and then jerks his head extremely unsubtly toward you, clearly warning her of your approach. They were discussing something to do with you then. Or the group you came in with. It didn’t really matter. You were planning to stay well out of the politics and machinations of this place.

Maria turns to you, a tiny smile curling the edges of her mouth. “How’s it going?” she enquires, supremely unconcerned that she has been caught talking about you.

“Good. Weird. The Christmas tree. Is weird.” You sound like an idiot to your own ears, unable to form a proper sentence, but Maria takes it in her stride.

“Guess it is if you’ve not seen one in a while,” she concedes gracefully. “Have you had a look around elsewhere? Seen anywhere you might want to sleep other than the barn tonight?”

“Uh…yeah. I think. There’s those houses down near the cemetery-“

“Oh shit! That’s where I live!” interjects the girl excitedly. You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

“You like it there?” you ask.

“Its ok,” she replies, tempering her early exuberance with a now-casual air. “Not too many people around. I like it that way.”

“Me too,” you confess. “So I think I’d like to take one of those houses…if that’s okay with you,” you add hastily, talking to Maria this time.

She nods. “Joel said you might be asking about a house round there-“ she begins. The girl interrupts her, speaking to you and sounding excited once more.

“You spoke to Joel?”

“She sure did.” That voice again. Deep and dark and threatening to drown you in its sin. You peer past Maria toward the end of the bar and how did you not spot him before? That imposing form was still mightily broad even when it was stood mostly out of sight behind a wooden pillar. Now that you had noticed him, you saw that half smile make an appearance again and he raised a mug of something hot in a gentle toast in your direction. “Told ya I’d put in a good word,” he grins.

So. He’s Joel. And when the girl approaches him to talk and playfully punches him on the arm in response to some quiet remark he makes, you hear him call her Ellie. Joel and Ellie. Your new neighbours. They seem to be very friendly together and you wonder if they too are family.

As promised, you’re able to get some food from the bar, though when faced with the prospect of actually drinking alcohol you swiftly go off the idea. Better to keep your wits about you, especially so soon after arriving. Everyone seems happy and well-adjusted here, but you can never really tell. When you ask Maria how you would go about paying for what you’ve eaten the discussion evolves into talking about what you would be willing to do to contribute to Jackson and what skills you can offer.

“I’m a good cook,” you shrug. “And I can knit. I’ve never farmed before, but I had quite the flourishing garden growing once upon a time. I’m not afraid to explore and map places. And I can kill infected.”

Movement catches your eye as Ellie departs, and you return her brief wave with a smile as she heads back outside into the freezing afternoon. Your eyes slide back over to Joel to find him looking pensive but happy, now sitting at the bar and staring into the depths of his mug as he swirls its contents around.

“We’ll trial you with a scouting group for now.” Maria’s voice breaks into your thoughts and your attention snaps back to her. “If all goes well you can be paired with someone and they can show you the trails we keep clear and the outposts we have. We never go out solo. Always at least two. But for now, we want you to settle in. Rest. Recuperate. Get your strength up. So eat. Please.”

You do as you’re told, savouring the steaming bowl of winter vegetable soup and thick slices of fresh bread. Appetite - as opposed to hunger - was something you thought had been cut off, left behind somewhere as you travelled across the wasteland of what once was. But in this setting you could feel yourself relax and begin to actually enjoy what was in front of you. Maybe it was just the novelty of not eating the contents of a tin for once.

As you eat, Maria continues to speak. “Once you’re done we’ll get you sorted with some fresh linen, towels, clothes, food, toiletries. The basics. I’d like for us to check in with each other once a day for the first week or so. Just to see how you’re settling in.”

To your surprise hearing this offer brings a tightening of your throat. It sounds…genuine. Like this woman actually gives a shit about your wellbeing even though she just met you. You swallow the lump away and tune back into what she’s saying. “-could just check in with Joel if you want. He’ll look out for you.”

Upon hearing his name you sneak yet another look over only to find the space vacant, the only sign he was ever there at all the mug left on the bar. A brief brush of disappointment hits you before you pull yourself together to focus on the conversation.

“He mentioned the garage,” you interject. “I mean, he mentioned someone lives in his garage. That they made it into a living space. If its possible I’d like to do something similar.”

“What you do with your house is your business,” Maria replies, and though the words are abrupt, the tone is soft. “Joel’s garage had been remodelled before everything went sideways. We just had to clean it up. If you want to remodel too, feel free. As long as it doesn’t interfere with whatever work you’re assigned.”

Your heart sinks a little at her words. Maria notices but misunderstands. “Hey, those houses are really nice,” she says, smiling encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll be happy in whichever once you choose. And if you need a DIY project to keep you busy, there are plenty of people in this town who would be happy to help.”

All too soon you’re standing back in the cold, on the porch of a beautiful two storey house, indistinguishable from the other two storey houses in the neighbourhood except for yours has a coat of relatively fresh green paint over its timbered front. When you touch a gloved hand to it and give Maria a questioning look, she shrugs.

“Other people sometimes need DIY projects to keep busy too. Its why we have a pool of empty houses so readily available. Not everyone feels comfortable going outside the walls. So they keep busy inside them.” She opens the door and you step inside.

Its…a lot. And yet not enough. You’ve raided plenty of houses for supplies over the past twenty years. Most of them were decrepit or broken in some way, a few stood tall, layers of grime and cobwebs the only clue to the time that had passed. This one is clean and tidy, though it still smells a little like dust and disuse.

An open plan living room is to your left and you can see where the wooden floor turns to pale kitchen tile beyond. To your right and through a doorway is what was once presumably a dining room, though its table and chairs are notable by their absence. Some mismatched and basic furniture has been supplied – a peach coloured couch, two dark blue squashy looking chairs, a small wooden coffee table, a few lamps resting on various surfaces, a bookcase with some pre-chosen literature on it. An open fireplace is against one wall, a stack of chopped wood waiting next to it. Stairs directly ahead of you lead up to the next floor and you can feel the weight of the empty rooms up there, each doorway leading to a black rectangle of the unknown –

“You okay?” Maria’s question is brief but loaded with meaning. You inhale deeply and do your best to release your fears along with your breath.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Its just going to take a while to get used to this again. I haven’t lived alone since…I-I mean I haven’t lived in a proper house since…” You trail off for a second time, both unwilling and unable to complete the thought paths necessary to finish your sentences.

“Joel and Ellie are right next door,” Maria says comfortingly. “Go to them if it gets difficult. You have my permission.” You were right. They are family.

“Don’t I need Joel and Ellie’s permission?” you joke weakly.

“Didn’t I tell you I was in charge?” she jokes back. “Come, look.”

She steps back on to the porch and points at the white-painted building next to yours. You had recognised the property earlier as the one Joel had emerged from when you had been exploring and would be lying to yourself if you said that the green paint was the only thing that had attracted you to this particular house. Wanting to be away from people didn’t mean you wanted to be completely alone. The four years spent with Chris had sometimes actually been fun in between the struggle for survival. Before that…well you knew you didn’t want to go back to a completely solitary existence.

“Right next door,” Maria repeats, and you nod as you try to quell the nerves in your stomach. They only get worse when she departs, holding an arm up in a farewell before she disappears back into the centre of Jackson. You close the door, but can’t seem to release the handle afterwards, standing there with your forehead pressed against the cool wood, eyes closed and trying to breathe normally.

A whole house. A real house. Of your own. Not a tiny cabin, or a barricaded room, or a tent exposed to the elements, or a hastily made camp in an old office building, or an abandoned military truck. A house.

A home?

Exhaling a shaky breath you finally turn your back to the door and slump against it as you survey your tiny kingdom. No, not a home. But a safe place to eat and sleep, and that was a good start on one. Before you step away from the door, you bolt and lock everything that can be bolted and locked. Just in case.

The pale, washed out grey of the winter afternoon sun was now struggling to pierce the gloom of the interior and though you could still just about see, the kitchen was starting to look decidedly shadowy. As if drawn by some unseen entity, your eyes once more travel upward. Where the stairs begin to reject the fading light and transmute into pure blackness…

With a shudder, you tear your gaze away and step further into the living room. Your breath is coming faster again and you realise that the darkening space around you is starting to feel suffocating and absolutely unbearable. Hurriedly, you rush to the kitchen to lock up the back door too, switching the lamps on as you go and checking every window is secure before closing the curtains against the outside world. You close the door to the dining room too, but only once you have checked inside it. It wasn’t likely that a bloater was lurking undetected, but at least now you knew for sure.

You build the fire, for something to do as much as to ward away the cold, and while its settling into the grate you make some…well tea is perhaps too strong a word for the weak brew you manage to eke out of the tiny bit of dried peppermint that you allow yourself to use from the supplies you have been gifted. But you make it on the hob, not over a fire, and the novelty of that is enough to keep the shadows at bay a little while longer.

Unpacking is another good distraction - putting the tins in the cupboards, the perishables(!) in the fridge(!!) and putting the toiletries off to one side, trying once more to ignore the stairs, the thought of a whole other floor of the house, and the inevitable time when you would have to go up there.

It loomed but somehow also lurked. The rooms. The darkness…Nope. Not going there. Not thinking about that. Just focus on the tea. The tea and the fire and a sofa and a book. Like a human being and not a cowering, broken thing.

And after a couple of hours of relative peace, once your bladder is painful and can no longer be ignored, you stand at the foot of those stairs and again stare up into the unknown. Your gun is now in its customary place at your hip. The biggest kitchen knife you could find is in your hand. The small torch you use to explore the world outside Jackson is affixed to your shirt.

A large part of you knows that this is foolish, that this house would have been cleared and checked not just once but many times over. The person who painted it, the person who ensured the plumbing and the electrics worked, the person who placed those books on the bookcase, the person who swept the dust from the floor – all of them moved through here. All of them would have noticed infected roaming around. Hell, Joel and Ellie have lived around here for a while and you doubted they would put up with neighbours like that for long.

And yet you know you won’t be able to sleep until you’ve checked every room yourself. Until you’re certain that the noises that have occasionally broken into your concentration are of the house settling and not footsteps. It is foolish. But it will hopefully bring a certain peace of mind that you desperately need.

The first creaking step up sends an unpleasant tingle across your scalp, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you force away the feeling of wrongness you’re battling. You force yourself to move. One more step. Another. You trail your fingers along the wall, the feeling of stippled paint under your fingertips the slimmest of tethers to reality. The light behind you is fading and ahead your world narrows to the powerful beam of your torch - your only guiding light. The thoughts running through your mind become clipped as you try to quell the feeling of nauseous panic that is threatening to overtake you.

A little further.

Nothing wrong.

Your house.

No one else here.

Of course, the upstairs was entirely ordinary. Old world ordinary true, but nothing was hiding in the shadows or tried to eat or shoot you. As soon as you reach the top landing you lean across to flick the light switch, noting the five doors that are now illuminated by the sickly yellow light coming from behind the ancient lampshade - three ajar, two closed.

The one directly in front of you is a bathroom – you can see the tell-tale gleam of white porcelain within. The two doors to your left lead into bedrooms where you can see carpets and beds and dressers and all the other furnishings you would expect. You explore them as thoroughly as you had the dining room and discover the hitherto unseen ensuite that resides in one of them, before drawing their curtains and closing their doors, your mind only a little less frantic than before.

That left two.

The first is easy - the set of slatted double doors gives it away. A closet with some random detritus inside – an ironing board leaning against one wall, a pathetic looking abandoned scarf draped across a hanger, some old cardboard boxes that you have no intention of looking in.

Then there was one.

Your hand hovers over that doorknob for seconds that pass to minutes.

The corridor

No.

The endless black.

No!

The thin beam of light from your torch when you flicked it on, barely even able to illuminate a halo around what is closest to you.

Nonono!

The shine. The gleam of light on the remnants of gloss paint and broken glass in the door ahead-

NO!

You wrench your shaking hand away and pound back downstairs to the merrily blazing fire, throwing yourself face first into the soft embrace of the sofa, heart racing as you stare into the orange of the crackling flames as if they could burn your memories away through your eyes. Two words run through your mind, trying to blank out the encroaching terror.

Nothingtherenothingtherenothingtherenothingthere

Eventually you control your breathing. Eventually your heart rate reduces and you don’t feel as if you might keel over at any moment, though your mind is still numbly racing. You had lived out there. With the monsters and the bandits and the cannibals and the warlords. So why did this somehow feel worse?

Distantly, as though it was coming through a barrier of water, you hear a knock at the door.

Well, it was more of a brash thumping really. As if the person had been there a while and was getting impatient with being on the wrong side of it.

You lie there, momentarily frozen in the throes of your previous fear. Who could want to see you mere hours after you’d moved in?

Another, louder, round of thumping finally snaps you free of the paralysis. Pushing yourself up to a vertical position, you manage to stand on shaky legs. You decide that its probably Maria coming to check on how you’re settling in.

The thumping starts up again but swiftly abates once you begin the process of unbolting and unlocking the door. What could you say to her? That you were fine? That you had tea and a book and were warm and that all of that was objectively wonderful? That in reality it only served to make you feel more dead inside because you were also freaking out over doors and shadows, trying desperately to stave off another panic attack? No. Tell her what she wants to hear and then…then you can think about just getting through the night.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories

As you pull the door open, you attempt to plaster a smile on your face to give credence to the lies you’re about to say. Instead it freezes into a rictus grin as you come face to face with deep brown eyes and shaggy dark waves.

Next chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f! reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel tlou x f! reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel miller x you #come home #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou angst #joel tlou fanfic #joel tlou fanfiction

[whats-k-popping]

Hi, I don't know if you're still available for requests bc ur bio said closed but your most recent post said open so if you do still accepting request, could you maybe do a canon setting fic where Namjoon was sick with stomach bug or something + exhaustion during a concert that made him keep throwing up in between set & being visibly pale & swaying a couple of times during performance, but when the members & directors noticed and told him to rest he refused because he's afraid of worrying the armys. So the members keep checking on him throughout the concert, but on the ending ment he had no more energy left in him to power through & suddenly fainted and after the concert ends at the backstage hen he wakes up got panic attack because of what happened earlier he was so afraid of disappointing and making armys worried. The boys comfort him & takes care of him afterwards. Sorry if this is too much to ask but thank you so much in advance 😊

Thanks so much for this request anon! Sorry it's taken me forever to get to!! but I figured Namjoon Day would be the perfect time to post again! I really love this request and I hope you can enjoy it as well!

Pairing: OT7 - Platonic, but ship as you wish. .

Words: 2578

Warning: Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Vom!ting || Flu Symptoms || Fainting || Exhaustion || Fever || Allusions to Objectification of Idols || Pan!c Attack ||

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon isn't usually one to hide his symptoms. He's usually good about reading his body and knowing what his body needs. When it needs food, he eats. When it needs water, he drinks. And when it needs rest, he rests. Usually. But it's their first performance together in months. And he's not about to miss it.

So despite what his body tells him, he's determined to push through. He owes it to everyone. To himself, to his members, to their staff, and to ARMY. He needs to be on that stage. 

His body is screaming at him though. For the last few days, he's known he's coming down with something. But preparations are in full swing. They have to practice choreography, go over the set list, wardrobe fittings, stage tests, sound checks, rehearsals, meetings, haircuts…it's non-stop. He doesn't even have time to check the fever he knows boils beneath his skin. 

But he can feel it. He feels the paradoxical sweaty chill, feels roiling nausea turn his stomach, feels burning fatigue in every single overused and unused muscle, and feels a clouded fog in his mind. He hears himself gasping desperately for air after every run through. He can hear himself gulp down his stomach's attempts to relieve the nausea. He can’t relieve it now. Later. Way later. After the show later. 

He's been hiding symptoms for days. And it's accumulated into a nasty stomach flu that he doesn't have time to nurse. He feels awful, but not awful enough to tell anyone. So he sucks it up through the dress rehearsal, sucks it up while they get ready for the first stage. And now he finds himself under the spotlight, tens of thousands of ARMYs expecting him to put on an astounding performance. He lives to serve. 

He somehow makes it through the first set. In wide, quick-paced strides, he makes his way off the stage. While all the other members vere left, he runs off to the right. His stomach could only take so much of their rigorous choreography. He can't it hold back any longer.

He's on his knees, staring down at the clean toilet water when he feels his stomach shift again. The vomit comes up easily, eager to finally be permitted relief. He hasn't eaten much throughout the day, or rather, the last few days. He's been too nauseous to eat, too nauseous to even think about food. 

It's mostly liquid, with a few undigested bits of rice he's been able to force down. It splashes into the bowl. When it starts, it doesn't stop. He knows he still has to get into his next costume. He needs to get his hair and make-up touched up. He doesn't have a lot of time. But he just can't stop heaving. 

He can't afford to be late. ARMY is waiting. His members are probably already ready for the next set. And he hasn't even started. So he forces himself to swallow down another heave before the contents leave his mouth. It tastes disgusting, feels heavy in his stomach, and leaves him coughing so hard he has to gasp for air. But it brings an end to the vomiting. For now, anyway. 

When he rejoins the members, the stylists make quick work of changing him and touching him up. There's at least seven of them surrounding him, each prodding around different areas of his body, trying to make sure he's ready for the next set. 

The others are waiting, finished preparing for the next set. They're standing around the catering table, snacking to refuel their energy before going back out. 

"Joonie-hyung, where did you go?" Jimin asks as the stylists buzz around him. "We were worried you weren't going to make it." 

"Had to use the bathroom," Namjoon replies quickly. He wipes new sweat from his forehead. He probably put more effort into vomiting than he did into performing. He's so tired. 

"You're looking a little pale," Seokjin adds. "Have you eaten enough today?" 

Namjoon shakes his head. He's about to defend himself saying he doesn't have the appetite, but Taehyung shoves a piece of chicken into his mouth. "You need the protein, hyungie." The second maknae grins. "We are only just getting started tonight." Namjoon hates when Taehyung is right. He hides his scowl as he chews on the chicken. 

The second set starts off on a rising platform. They take their places on the platform and listen to the ARMY screams from the stadium, waiting for the music to start. Namjoon stands with Yoongi to his left and Jungkook to his right. There’s minor chatter going on around him but he can only focus on the pounding in his head. When the strobe lights start, Namjoon sways and stumbles into Yoongi. Yoongi falters a bit at the added pressure, but braces himself and Namjoon with him. “Sorry,” Namjoon mutters, picking himself up and standing back in place. 

Jungkook peeks forward and makes eye contact with Yoongi, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Yoongi looks back with a pout and shrugs his shoulders. They both spare worrisome glances to Namjoon throughout the second set. Jungkook sees him sway when he steps away. Yoongi sees him holding his head and palming his stomach when his back is turned. They both see him run off as soon as the stage goes dark. And they are starting to suspect that it’s not just anticipation for the final set. 

They all follow him off the stage and are only slightly surprised when they don’t find him in the back room with the stylists. While the stylists work on getting them ready for the next set, Jungkook and Yoongi fill the rest of the members on what they’ve observed. Soon enough, there’s a team of directors and medics in the room with them. Namjoon’s alarmed when he stumbles in. This time, the medics swarm him. 

He’s escorted, all but carried, over to the sofa to rest. There’s over a dozen bodies surrounding him, circling him like vultures. 

“What was he thinking?” Yoongi scolds. 

“He’s running a fever,” One of the medics calls out. 

“We need to prepare a notice. He’s done for the night.” A manager declares. 

“He could have seriously hurt himself,” Seokjin lectures. 

“He’s dehydrated,” The medic again. “He needs fluids.”

“Doesn’t he trust us?” Jungkook asks. 

“The boys need to get back on stage.” the stage director adds. 

Namjoon hates the way they all talk about him like he’s not there. He may be feverish and a bit disoriented. But he can still hear them. He can understand them. They talk about him like he’s just an object. A broken tool, not capable of serving a purpose. His members are disappointed, his staff is angry. Everyone is making decisions for him, like he’s not capable. 

He’s the leader. He’s more than capable. 

“I’m going to finish the show.” Namjoon declares, his voice nowhere near as commanding as it usually is. But the determination is there. “I want to finish the show.” 

All the frantic eyes point to him, but he doesn;t back down. He straightens his posture and gives his best focused glare. There may be spots dancing around his vision. But they don’t need to know that. 

“Namjoon-ssi.” One of the senior managers starts, “You’re not well.” 

“I haven’t been well this whole time. And I’ve been pulling it off.” Namjoon rebutes, “It’s the final set. I can make it another half hour.” 

The members can all feel Namjoon’s determination. They all have to agree he’s been doing remarkably well on stage given his condition. He’s been able to hide it so well, they almost hadn’t suspected anything. It makes them proud and angry at the same time. They exchange some subtle glances and nods in telepathic communication. 

“We really can’t recommend that you go back on stage. What if something happens?” The manager counters. 

“I’m 29 years old. I can make my own decisions.” Namjoon borderline shouts. He’s usually obedient to the orders of management. But this is one of the few things he won’t back down from. It’s their first and last time to perform together for a while. He’s not going to sit out. 

Besides, if he sits out now, ARMY will think something is wrong. They weren’t briefed in advance. It’s not fair to the thousands of fans in the stadium. He owes it to them to finish the concert as well. His mind is made up. His resolve is steeled. He’s not going to budge. 

“It’s only one more set.” Hoseok interjects, “And the choreo isn’t as intense in this set.” 

“We’ll keep an eye on him the whole time.” Seokjin adds. 

“Please let Namjoonie-hyung finish the concert.” Jimin smiles sweetly to the managers. 

There’s a short hushed conversation between the management. They’re hesitant to allow it, but in the end, their desire to resume the performance wins out. The boys should have been back on stage minutes ago. It’s going to throw everything off if they don’t get back out there. And they’ve come to realize that a determined Namjoon is a force to be reckoned with. So they reluctantly agree. The medical staff patch him up then Namjoon is quickly changed into his fit for the final set. It’s several minutes late, but they finally make their way back to the stage.

Seokjin wasn’t kidding when he said they would keep an eye on him. He feels the concerned glances of the members throughout every verse. It feels like someone always has a hand on shoulder or around his waist. They are lingering closer to him than usual. He doesn’t hate it though. He just hopes ARMY doesn’t suspect anything. 

The final set is hard, made harder by the fact that he knows the members and the managers are keeping a vigilant watch over him. One careless fumble and the boys will rush into a chaotic panic. He can’t let that happen. He talked big, so he has to walk even bigger. 

Jimin taps his shoulder when it’s time to line up for the ending ments. His heart is racing, he can hardly catch his breath. His chest feels tight, he clutches at the neckline of his shirt as he takes his place in line. His vision is blurred, but he can see the vibrant yellow and Jungkook’s jacket and follows it. Someone, Taehyung, is shoving a bottle of water into his hand. He sips it. But it’s hard to drink and gasp for air at the same time. 

Namjoon feels like a dead battery. He’s given everything he had to ARMY. There’s nothing left to give. It’s hard to stand up, hard to keep his eyes open. He wants to curl into bed and sleep. He’s not regretting his decision, but he’s never been so desperate to get off the stage in his whole career. Usually he dreads walking off the stage for the final time. Today, he’s anticipating it. 

One second, Namjoon hears Taehyung. The next, he hears nothing but a loud ringing in his ears. His body hits the stage with a thud. 

When the leader wakes, he’s no longer on the stage. He’s in his hotel room, tucked into bed. A glance around the room reveals that he’s not alone. The six members are there, along with members of the medical staff shuffling around the room. 

“Guys, he’s awake.” Jungkook calls, sitting closest to Namjoon at the edge of the bed. 

Namjoon hears them all shuffle, taking up purchase on his queen size mattress. The medical staff run a few non-invasive tests and pack up their things. It’s the flu. He needs bed rest and simple medication. They note to monitor him overnight and quickly leave the room. 

He searches his memory for any recollection of how he ended up in his bed. Last he remembered, he was on stage. He doesn’t remember closing out the show, waving goodbye to ARMY. He doesn’t remember how everything ended. Which tells him it must have ended badly. He must have done something to ruin it. He must have worried everyone. The faces of his members say it all. 

“It’s all my fault?” Namjoon asks, but he’s already in tears over the situation. He can’t seem to find a breath, like his lungs are closed off and there’s a weight pressed against his chest. His whole body trembles, but not just with the shivers of a feverish chill. His sight narrows and it feels like his whole world is caving in on him. There’s an insane pressure, a nagging voice laughing at his failure. Another voice telling him he’s not fit to be in the group, let alone lead it. 

“Joonie, you did so well.” Hoseok comforts him, pulling him close and petting his hair. He’s seen Namjoon in a state of panic several times before. He’s quick to recognize the signs and keep his fellow 94 liner grounded.  

“I couldn’t do it.” Namjoon cries, clinging tightly onto Hoseok. His fever is spiking, his body aches, and there’s a new centralized pain on the back of his head that adds to his headache. He’s miserable. He wants his hyungs. He wants his dongsaengs. He wants his family. “I just wanted to put on a good show for ARMY. They probably hate me now. You guys were right. What was I thinking!” Hoseok’s shirt is damp with tear stains and sweat. He pulls Namjoon closer.

“They won’t hate you, hyung.” Taehyung grabs one of Namjoon’s hands. They’re still gripping the fabric of Hoseok’s shirt, but Taehyung keeps his hand over Namjoon’s anyway. “They were worried about you. But Yoongi-hyung did a great job ensuring everyone that you would be okay.” 

“Do they know?” Namjoon asks, a small voice riddled with sobs. 

“You fainted on stage, Joonie. We had to tell them the truth.” Seokjin replies bluntly, “The company also issued an official statement about your illness and recovery measures. Everything’s taken care of. You just need to focus on getting better.” 

The remaining members all make some form of physical contact with Namjoon, reminding him that illness happens and that ARMY will understand. Jungkook takes a selfie of all of them and posts it to Weverse, along with the caption that they are taking good care of their leader and that Namjoon’s doing better already. He just wants to ease Namjoon’s concern. Within seconds, the post is flooded with comments from all over the world wishing Namjoon a speedy recovery and reminding him to prioritize his health.

Namjoon relaxes as Jungkook reads through the messages, replying to some on behalf of all the members. The panic took away the minimal energy that Namjoon had regained and his eyes start to slip closed again. Yoongi notices, softened by the gentleness of the action. He tucks Namjoon back into the bed. “Alright, Namjoon-ah.” He whispers, hoping the rest of the members will catch on, “Now that ARMY knows you’re getting better, you really need to start doing that. Get some rest, the six of us will be here the whole time. Let us know if you need anything.” He runs a hand through Namjoon’s sweaty hair. He knows the medics gave Namjoon fever reducers, but they don’t seem to have kicked in yet. 

“Sleep tight, Joonie-hyung.” Jimin presses a gentle kiss to Namjoon’s warm temple. No one moves off the bed. For the first time in days, Namjoon rests well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Sorry I've been a bit MIA. Trying to get back to writing daily but life has been, well life. Please know I'm still working hard to get through requests. Happy Namjoon Day!! And as always, thanks for reading to the end! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

#bts #bts sickfic #bts flu #bts emeto #sick!Namjoon #caretaker!seokjin #caretaker!yoongi #caretaker!hoseok #caretaker!jimin #caretaker!taehyung #caretaker!jungkook #caretaker!OT7 #bts canonverse #OT7 sickfic #fever #exhaustion #fainting #tw panic attack #tw fever #tw fainting #tw emeto #aki sickfic #aki writes #aki requests

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

hi hii it's me again. i woke up and the notif for the new chapter was the first thing i saw in the morning and it totally made my day hehe. as always you blew my mind with this chapter too i loved it 😭 (warning: longggg ask ahead)

i noticed that in many chapters, we get these small glimpses of how mr. x was as a person or rather...as the "leader" and it's really intriguing to me because while he isn't exactly painted as a noble person but as the oc mentions, there isn't anything "noble" about their line of work anyway but he seems like someone i could respect for how he had maintained that power and fear over everyone if i was in oc's place. he seems like the kind of person who would carry that powerful, dangerous and yet charismatic aura with him everywhere he went. you know the kind of people who aren't "good" or rather do many "bad" or "questionable" things and yet, do it in such a charismatic way that you can't help but weirdly kind of admire that trait of them being able to be so charismatic that it leaves an impression on everyone even if you don't agree with the things they do. i honestly think he seems like a very interesting character even if he doesn't exist anymore. you write the descriptions of him so well that i can easily imagine how menacing he would be if he was still alive in the story haha

as always, love her interactions with hector. their gentle dynamic and her trust in him and the way he cares for her, it all makes me feel oddly comforting. it's very calming and i stand by hector being best character 😤

oc's growing feelings for jungkook are so interesting to read too, it's adorable. i love how her shifting dynamic with him is making her think and do things which she usually wouldn't. her waiting at the office for any news on him, her not wanting him to meet anna, her not being able to maintain her poker face facade when it comes to him, going with him through town just because she doesn't want to stay at the office thinking the worse which lowkey translates to the fact that she'd rather be in a dangerous with him than let him go alone and stay behind safe alone. it's so different than her "survival" mindset but i'm loving that development for her.

i'm also looking forward to knowing what anna's planning to do with her wanting to help him. is she being paid for doing something to jungkook and his organisation in the future? or has she collaborated with someone for it? i have so many questions on that. (but it was so satisfying to see jungkook be so blunt and unbothered when she was clearly trying to get his attention lmao)

oh and that scene where the oc and jungkook were bickering about how the other needs to add more security personnel with each other was really cute, had me squealing (they're a married couple your honour)

you have me in a chokehold anticipating what jungkook's gonna say just for it to get interrupted pls 😭 it happened twice this chapter. i really want him to complete whatever he's saying to her i wanna KNOW what he thinks i'm on my knees to know more of his inner monologue

the attack had me worried ngl because i was worrying if one of them is gonna be seriously hurt but i was relieved to see they were okay in the end. that said, her being focused on his proximity and his scent even in that dangerous situation was so ooc, i loved it. that's the best kind of ooc scene because it shows her development i love it. jungkook's panic over her being possibly hurt at the end was endearing too. i was like "awww they're gonna be in L word soon" lmaoooo and it was so satisfying to see oc for the first time not fight her developing feelings(?) about kook at all in the end but rather be kinda comfortable or accepting with it.

honestly this chapter had such a good pacing but then, literally all iicngyp chapters do so yeah you're just amazing honestly. i'm LOVING the slow burn and the sexual tension pls it's so deliciously frustrating haha you never miss. eagerly waiting for the next update whenever you decide to do! 💗

Makes me so happy to see your username and your long asks in my inbox 😁

So, Mr. X was someone who was just incredibly -efficient-, is I think the biggest thing. I mean, he ruled the Organization for -decades- and people thought he’d be in place forever. As OC points out, he’d made it so no one would even dare to think they could replace him (until Jungkook, that is). She still abides by a lot of the rules he set in place because she realizes that these allowed the highest reward with the lowest risk. Jungkook’s attitude is more high rewards-high risks, which she has trouble with after years of taking the safest option even if it was a horrible thing to do. So yeah, there was definitely a lot to him! (and if I have a chance to talk about how -he- got to rule the Organization it might come up in the story 👀)

I feel that without Hector, if OC had been truly alone, some aspects of the story would have just been a little too much. It’s good that she has this one person in her corner 😭

OC is definitely changing and it’s one of my favorite things to show really, the slow evolution of her character as she grows into a different version of herself. Hopefully a better version of herself too, one that isn’t so weighed down by all her responsibilities and the need to keep a mask up the whole time, but I’ll let you be the judge of that ahah.

Not a word on Anna I’m afraid, that would be too direct of a spoiler 😬

I’m glad you liked that scene! If you look, OC also agrees to take on more bodyguards in hope it will sway Jungkook and it’s after that that he agrees to get one more lol, aren’t they precious 😭 (I say, as the writer of the story)

I’m sorryyyy, I swear they’ll talk some more eventually but there’s just a lot going on at the moment. The chapter after the next one will be an Interlude from Jungkook’s perspective though, so that’s coming 👀

I’m glad you didn’t find too weird that OC was focused on Jungkook in a dangerous situation, the whole time I was wondering if it would be too much considering the fact that they’re in a life or death situation lol. It feels like a moment when you’d scream at her to get a grip, but also she’s already screaming that at herself and is very annoyed with her own mind soooo… hopefully it cancels out? But yeah, she’s definitely slowly moving towards the point where denial just isn’t an option anymore.

So so glad you enjoyed the chapter, I had some doubts since I wrote it kinda fast and that’s a new thing for me but I’m feeling relieved reading your thoughts 😊 Thank you so much for the ask 💜

#asks #jeonlovescoffee #iicngyp: 9 #iicngyp: oc

[milady-pink]

Rosewood Manor

Summary: Christine discovers a terrifying truth about the Manor she currently resides in.

Warnings: Panic-attack, description of death, murder, strangulation, alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 2359 || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Complete Series

AO3

________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 8

This morning was a hard one to get through.

After the horrible dream she had last night, and all of the memories that came along with it, Christine wanted nothing more than to lay in bed and watch feel-good movies all day. But unfortunately, she was not at home, and even had the chance to face death. Well, at least that one wont be real.

Begrudgingly, she got out of bed, and looked at the clock which read 8:45. A spike of anxiety rushed through her, thinking she had missed, or was late, for breakfast. That is, until recounting Erik having said that breakfast will be skipped in favor of brunch.

So, instead of rushing through her routine, Christine took an extra long hot shower to rid herself of the lingering nightmare. Giving her curls the love they deserve, she shampooed and conditioned; using a body scrub while the conditioner soaked in. As she rinsed, Christine brushed her hair since it was near impossible to do so when it was dry. Finally, applying leave-in conditioner to give her curls the moisture they need in her everyday life, locking it in with a hair gel, which she broke by shaking from the roots outwards. She gave her neck a much needed massage, using tips from the masseuse yesterday, after defusing her luscious locks.

Once she gave her hair some love and care, Christine turned her attention towards finding a nice outfit for brunch. She didn’t have many options, but she was very resourceful with her inventory. Thankfully she remembers packing a linen summer dress, perfect for this occasion.

After getting dressed, makeup was next. Going for a light summer look, Christine applied enough makeup to make her feel comfortable and confident. With foundation, blush, lip stain, mascara, and eyeshadow applied, she had shaken the chills residing from her nightmare. Perfect timing, considering she was starting to get hungry.

A few other guests were outside, chatting amongst themselves, waiting for others to join them. Walking through the doors to the back patio, Christine looked to her left, having smelt food, and noticed some stainless steel buffet chafers; their lids were still covered.

Christine walked past, over to where Raoul, Andre, and Sorelli where sitting at a large round table. “Hi all,” she greeted, “hope you enjoyed sleeping in as much as I did”.

“I can’t speak for everyone, but I know I did,” stated Sorelli. She looked Christine over, peering across her sunglasses, “you look good by the way,” she added with a smile.

Turning around in his seat Raoul took her in, surprise flashing across his face before leaving a smile behind. “Wow Chris, you do look good,” he acknowledged, Andre nodding his agreement. She tried with all her might, but to her avail, she blushed.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “who else are we waiting for?” She asked while taking a seat besides Raoul.

With Andre nursing a coffee, and Raoul enraptured in her image, Sorelli was the only one to answer. “Looks like just Piangi and,” her gaze shifted to the double French doors, “Jamie!”

Slow steps lead the small framed girl towards the table, walking to the seat next to Sorelli, before changing her mind and settling down next to Andre. Everyone greeted her politely, to which she shyly responded.

“I guess we’re just missing the big guy,” laughed Andre.

“He must be taking his time, I didn’t hear anything when I passed his room.” Shared Jamie, some sleep still evident in her voice.

“Boy, hope he isn't still sleeping. He doesn’t strike me as the type to skip a meal.”

As the small table sat chatting a bit with each other, a familiar, lithe figure made its way over to them. The black and white man, wearing half a mask, stopped at the head of the table, so his amber eyes could view all.

“It has come to my knowledge that one of the remaining guests is not yet here. I shall not make you wait until they arrive, when and if they join you. Thus, brunch is served.” He finished with a dramatic wave of his hand towards the brunch buffet table. Looking at each other, slight suspicion building, the table gets up collectively.

Everyone makes their way over to the buffet spread and starts to pile food onto their plates, while Christine looks over her options. Today her options where; sausage, yogurt cups with granola, bagels with spreads, a sheet-pan omelet, and mixed fruit salad, with various fruit juices to drink.

Back at the table, Christine digs into her plate of sausage, omelet square, fruit and yogurt, washing it down with some fresh orange juice. With everyone seated again, the discussion turns to the absence of Piangi.

“Man, he sure is missing out on this.” Muttered Sorelli around a piece of bagel.

“Mhmm,” agreed Jamie, cleaning her yogurt cup, “sleep is sweet, but this is better.”

“I hope the poor fellow isn’t sick,” pondered Andre.

“Or worse,” added Raoul, which made the table go silent.

Not long into the silence, however, Erik returned to the patio brunch. He didn’t have to do much, as everyone’s eyes were already on him, to grab the attention of the table.

“Your missing comrade, Piangi, appears to have missed the first meal. As it is, I left to check his room and upon entering,” this made everyone stare with untrustful eyes, “using the master key mind you, his body was found.” All sat motionless, face blank of any emotion other than shock. Killed, in the middle of the night, without a sound. “He was brought down to the morgue. The maids and I will return in five minutes to show you to your chosen location.” Still no one has spoken, nor made any movement. “Victim number three has been added to the count.” For as tall as he is, Erik left the shocked housemates on the patio, silent as a mouse.

It took two minutes and forty-three seconds before the Manor’s remaining guests realized Piangi was dead. Starting slowly, they looked to their respective neighbor at the outdoor table, before anyone dared make a noise. After Jamie sneezed, speech was the only thing heard for the next one minute and six seconds, where every person voiced what they were thinking, without waiting for an answer. Once they exhausted their questions, the remaining minute and fifty-one seconds was spent on strategic planning for the tactful trio.

“Okay, let’s go over the plan again. Jamie?”

“I’m going wherever Andre goes,”

“To make sure he doesn’t find anything too informing, good. Christine?”

“I’ll go to the location that doesn’t have anyone, finding whatever I can for you two only.”

“Perfect, and I’ll follow Sorelli. She’s too good to be left alone.”

Just when they were done scheming, the formidable figure in the black tux with white cotton gloves, known as Erik, returned with two maids following his stead. He explained who of them will show them to their chosen locations. As it happens, Andre chose the last known whereabouts, while Sorelli picked the crime scene; leaving Christine alone, in the morgue. Before leaving, Raoul looked back at ther with worry in her eyes, but it was too late.

She had sealed her fate.

Walking through the Manor to the morgue was far more normal than Christine had originally thought. If she wanted to, she could pretend Erik, her butler, was taking her down to the theater for a private viewing of a new Hollywood movie. But alas, that was not the case.

Lost in her thoughts Christine almost fell, yet again, off of the last step to the basement, but was caught by the hand, yet again, by Erik. She thanked him, albeit awkwardly, before taking a look at her surroundings; only to see a never ending hallway of darkness. But before fear could drown her silent cries, sconce lights on one side of the hall light the way, with a soft glow. Christine turned to look at her towering guide, only to notice he was standing by a fancy-looking light switch.

Silently he led her down the hallway, before stopping at a double door that looked to be more fitting in an operating room than a Manor. Trying to steal her nerves, Christine took a few deep breaths.

“Miss Daae, you have not yet visited the morgue, yes?”

Startled from her thoughts by the velvet voice, she absentmindedly nodded; still in the grasp of her fears. Taking notice of her panic about the impending task, Erik took a thoughtful breath of his own before speaking low.

“‘What good are wings, without the courage to fly’” he quoted, with a soft voice. Christine, stunned, turned her head to look up at him. She was even more stunned as she looked into his eyes, seemingly hazel from the darkness, and saw the first bit of emotion since she arrived; sympathy.

“Th-thank you,” she responded, quite breathlessly. She didn’t want him to be disappointed, because she did not know how to properly respond to the situation. In return, neither did he, for after a small smile and a bow, he left.

Christine stood in the dimly lit hallway for fewer than two minutes, before realizing she had no major nerves anymore. She was more amazed than anything, and had a head filled with many new questions for the masked man that she feared may go unanswered. With one last deep breath, she pushed open the morgue door, and stepped in.

It was cold.

Unnaturally so. Then again, a Manor located in the Hollywood Hills doesn’t usually come with an in-house morgue. Looking around a bit more before venturing forth, she noticed the right and left walls were covered with nine stainless-steel doors; 18 in total, with white tile everywhere else. Reminding herself to take deep breaths, Christine walks further into the room. There was a table directly across from her, with a sink adjoining it to the wall. On both sides of the table were some steel cabinets that almost looked like they belonged in a kitchen, not this dank, cement room.

At last, she has reached Piangi’s body on the metal table. He looked very calm, sedated even, so much so that Christine couldn’t even see him breathe. I wonder if they gave him something to sleep, to keep the idea alive. Laying on the table he was dressed in a paper hospital gown, just like Raoul had said.

Guessing that she didn’t have to perform a real autopsy, he was alive after all, she moved her attention over to the several items laid on top of a metal service cart on the left. There was a Manila file that contained the victims name, Ubaldo Piangi, occupation, lawyer, height and weight, along with other physical characteristics. Christine found nothing of value in the folder, so she continued her search.

On the second level of the cart rested several bags labeled evidence in red print. From the looks of it they contained Piangi’s clothes; socks, shoes, tie, jacket, shirt, and trousers. At first glance they seemed normal, until Christine realized that he was wearing these at dinner. So he must’ve been hit sometime during the night. Finding no more real evidence as to how he died, she had to steal her nerves, and inspect his body.

It’s okay Christine, he’s just asleep. Hope he doesn’t remember this.

Turning around to face his body, she looked for any major markings that would indicate how he died. Something that caught her eye was the color of his lips; blueish gray, but also a dark reddish brown. Hovering over his body, she leaned down a bit and sniffed his lips. Whiskey. The memory of the previous night flooded back to Christine; Piangi’s voice asking Erik where the liquor was stored, and he was found there mid morning. I’ll have to ask Raoul about that.

Glancing down his body, a blue-green bruise near his neck peaked out from underneath a layer of neck skin. Looking around, Christine grabbed and put on some latex gloves and a metal tool that looked like a butter knife. She used the tool to lift the extra skin, and put her other hand onto his neck to inspect the bruises. But she never finished her task, for once her gloved hand touched Piangi’s neck, all of the blood rushed to her head.

Cold.

He was cold, like ice.

Piangi is really dead.

It was a brisk fall Thursday when Christine lost everything. She had just finished classes for the day at the conservatory, and was making plans for the weekend. Moments after waving goodbye to friends, with a promise to text later, she made her way to the hospital; a surprise afternoon visit to her dad.

When she arrived several nurses at their station greeted her as routine, considering her father has been in there since late June. One of them stated that she checked up on him a while ago and will make her rounds again soon, Christine had told her that was fine. Walking to her father’s room she thought about the things she might tell him today, or play some board games for a nice afternoon together.

Upon opening the door, she noticed her dad was asleep, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. He started sleeping like that after being admitted to the hospital; he said it was hard to breathe through his nose with the tube. Still smiling, Christine went over to him and kissed his forehead, only to look at him with slight concern. Huh, he seems pretty cold, I’ll tell the nurse. To assuage any fears, she took hold of his hand to wake him up.

But he didn’t.

He stayed there, lying motionlessly. He didn’t move when Christine called his name, nor when the nurses came running after she screamed. He remained in bed as security had to drag his daughter, frantic and panicking, from his room for the nurses and doctors to try resuscitating him. He didn’t move even as she sang at his funeral at their local church. He never moved again.

#phantom of the opera #andrew lloyd webber #Christine daae #Erik Destler #raoul de chagny #erik x christine #christine x raoul #murder mystery #musical fanfic #foodporn #ubaldo piangi

[maddiwrites]

Breathe With Me

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.

Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll. 

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!! 

National Sexual Assault Hotline: [phone]

Masterlist

It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.

Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?

One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas. 

The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought. 

You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.

Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner. 

You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.

John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.

Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first. 

To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning. 

A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead. 

Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.

Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences. 

When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time. 

As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”

“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.

You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?

“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”

When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”

“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags. 

“You have your phone?”

You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid. 

Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement. 

As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes. 

“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”

“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.

“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it. 

“Dude!” 

“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”

The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of. 

Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”

Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”

“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.

Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different. 

“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump. 

“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him. 

“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him. 

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.

Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified. 

Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards. 

“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.

“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”

“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”

The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating. 

“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting. 

“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”

Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”

JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”

“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”

“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one. 

Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”

JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster. 

Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”

You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach. 

It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night. 

A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.

About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back? 

But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his. 

“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”

“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”

Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive. 

You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.

“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally. 

“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then...”

“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper. 

“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”

You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”

“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope. 

Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”

“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.

“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip. 

“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to. 

“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”

JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you. 

“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.

“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.

John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.

“Where do you think?” JJ says.

When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”

“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”

“You can’t,” Kie says.

“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”

“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”

JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.

“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.

“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.

“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.

Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second. 

JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine

[hiddens-eden]

The Last Tune (Emmett Cullen x Male!Reader) Pt 1

Paring; Emmett Cullen x Male Reader + Cullen Family x Male Reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: Cursing, Abuse, Tramua, Angst

Pronouns; He/Him

Spelling checked; No

Summary; Y/N is a quiet boy that's had his fair share of physical and emotional trauma, so he loves to keep to himself. He barely interacts with anyone unless needed and prefers to listen to music and sketch in peace. So imagine his surprise when some of the most popular kids in school want to be around him! They heard him singing along with his music and were immediately entranced. One of them in particular has his eyes set on him. Though, they are not the only ones who have an interest in Y/N.

A/N; Hello, my little Otaku's! Welcome to my first fic! I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! Just be kind! I'm sorry if it seems at all rushed! On my next stories I do plan on switching PoV's so it'll be easier to write and more entertaining. Enjoy!

"Who are they?"a dark haired girl asked her friend that was sitting just across from their lunch table

"Those are some of the most popular people in school, the Cullen's. Not only are they hot as hell, but they're charming to boot! They do disappear for long periods of time, which gives them an air of mystery."

At the Cullen's table, they softly chuckled at the description the new girl was given. After all, it's only natural considering what they are. They are a being talked about in many fantasy tales. Known for their taste for blood. Vampires, a creature of the night that feasts on humans. However, they in particular don't drink human blood

They went back to softly talking to each other, but a few minutes later something caught their attention. A soft voice echoed in their eardrums. It was enchanting and beautiful, it was like nothing they've ever heard of. They all simultaneously started looking around for the source of the pleasant sound when the new girl asked about someone else.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a boy sat by himself

"Oh! That's (Y/N), (L/N)! He doesn't talk much, but when he does, you can't help but feel so tranquil and at peace!"

That caught the vampire's attention, and they whipped their heads to where the brunette was pointing. Noticing that that was where the sound is coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"His voice is so soft, like silk! But it has a sort of firmness to it! That's not the only thing, though. He is so kind, adorable, and smart as well! He even helps who ask for him to tutor them. His personality makes everyone want to be around him!"

That rose some questions in the vampires heads. If he is that well-liked, why is no one sitting near him?

"Then why is he alone?"

~The vampires will have to thank the new girl for asking so many questions~

"Well, whenever people come near him, he gets anxious and tries to get away as soon as possible. Someone grabbed him on accident, and he started having a panic attack, falling to the ground, and hyperventilating."

The Cullen's were a little shocked when they heard this. That wasn't normal for sure

"Holy shit. Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was sent home early. But, some students saw his face as he was leaving and said that he looked terrified. We think something is going on where he lives, though we can't know for sure" she shrugged

"Once he came to school the next day, he was wearing long-sleeves. I thought it was weird considering he never wore them before, but the rest of the school shrugged it off as it being in the winter months making it reasonable. The person apologized the next day and (Y/N) just said it was fine, and he just likes being alone, so now that's what we do"

Right when the girl finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Making everyone get up and start to throw away their trash and head to class. All except one person...

"I don't think he heard the bell" Emmett said

"Gee, none of us would've guessed!" Rosalie responded, causing the other Cullen's to chuckle

Suddenly, Jasper's sight shifted to his wife Alice because he felt her stiffening up, a tell-tale sign of her power activating. The other vampires looked at her as well, waiting for her to relay what she saw. After a little bit she came to and, slowly, turned to Emmett grinning

"Emmett, why don't you go over and tell him class is about to start? Maybe even ask him to tutor you! We all know you need it." she remarked, still grinning

Starting to understand why she was acting like the way she was, Emmett sighed, wanting to protest, but he knew Alice's visions almost always came true, or they would end at the same conclusion.

He made his way over to where the boy was sitting

"Remember not to grab him!" Alice semi-shouted from where she was standing

Emmett waved her off, still approaching (Y/N)

He gently tapped (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the smaller boy jump in surprise and what Emmett can only assume is fear

(Y/N) turned his head around fast enough to give him whiplash and that's when he met the golden eyes of the person that startled him

He took his earbud out before speaking, "I-Is there s-something I can do for you?" (Y/N) asked shakily

Emmett stood there for a moment. He had never seen someone so hot and cute at the same time. The girl was right, too. His voice is the embodiment of angelic. Emmett took this chance to take in all the boys features, from his soft (S/C) skin that reflected the light of the cafeteria. To his intoxicating (E/C) eyes that he could get lost in over and over again. Emmett felt a small pull to (Y/N), and he knew exactly what it meant.

“H-hello? Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked

“I-I um…class is about to start…”

(Y/N) looked at the time and blushed

“So it is…” (Y/N) stood up and started collecting his things “T-thanks for letting me know” (Y/N) stood to leave but was stopped as Emmett stood in front of him

“I was wondering if you could help me study for chemistry? I’m currently failing” Emmett chuckled, rubbing the back of his head

"I-I don't mind, where should we meet?"

"How about the Library after school?"

(Y/N) smiled the slightest bit "Sounds good, now if you don't mind I need to get to class" and with that (Y/N) left the cafeteria heading to his next class. Emmett slowly rejoined his family, still in awe from the recent interaction.

Jasper grinned from the emotions Emmett was emulating

"It seems Emmett is very interested in that guy"

"Hell yeah I am! Did you see him?!"

"We did" Edward answered him, "But"

"But what?" Emmett asked

"I can't read his mind, same with the new girl"

"Does that mean they're a supernatural?" Rosalie asked

"No, they aren't. The new girl is a weird case, but (Y/N) seems to just have fantastic mental walls and barriers. Which is concerning..."

"Then I'll have to break them" Emmett smirked

The rest of the Cullen's let out a collective sigh as they made their way to their respective classes. Still wondering what was going on with the mysterious (Y/N).

The final bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Students started to funnel out of their classes and into the hallways. Emmett was waiting outside (Y/N)'s classroom, ready to head to the library.

After waiting awhile of waiting, (Y/N) came out of the classroom books and binder in hand

"Hey"

(Y/N) jumped and turned around to see Emmett, a look of relief claimed his face

"You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah"

As they made their way to the library, they made some just talked about their interests and things of that nature, eventually arriving at their destination. After they settled in their seats with the necessary books, they started the study session.

Emmett found it cute, they way (Y/N) would nervously try and help him understand the complex formula's and equations. After a few explanations, (Y/N) sat down and started to work on his homework. Unconsciously, (Y/N) started to sing to himself, making Emmett perk up and look at him.

"You're a good singer"

(Y/N) blushed, "Thanks...but others don't think so..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Emmett stood up, causing (Y/N) to jump a little, "Your voice is amazing!"

(Y/N) blushed at the praise he was given. He'd never been complimented before, so this was new to him.

"Thank you" (Y/N) smiled, making Emmett's cold and dead heart swell with something he's never felt before

"N-no problem" Emmett said before sitting down, and starting to work again, still thinking of that cute-ass smile

Soon, the sun started to set and that was their cue to wrap things up.

"Could you tutor me again tomorrow? If you're free, that is" Emmett asked

"Sure, I should be open. Meet here after school?"

"Deal"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett before walking to his place

To say Emmett was giddy is an understatement. He was over the moon. Not only did he get to be tutored by his adorable mate, but he also got him to open up and be more relaxed around him! He made his way back to his own house and entered with his head still stuck in the clouds. Unaware of the fact that the whole family was sitting in the living room

"It seems that Emmett had an amazing time" Jasper couldn't help but let out his own smile from Emmett's emotions

"Something good happen, Emmett?" Carlisle asked, intrigued by Jasper's comment

"I think he's the one"

"The One?" Esme questioned

Alice snickered, clearly happy that her vision seemed to have came true

"My mate" Emmett replied, still thinking about the fun time he had studying with (Y/N)

"Congrats!! But, make sure you claim him before anyone else!" Esme explained

"He's not an object, Esme" Carlisle chastised

"I know, but humans may not understand their feelings"

"I just have to take things slow. I don't want to scare him off"

~Next Day at School~

"Hey (Y/N)!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Emmett!" (Y/N) smiled sweetly

As Emmett got closer to (Y/N) he noticed a very distinct smell coming from the boy. "(Y/N) are you alright?" he asked concern lacing his voice

(Y/N) visibly tensed and started to shake slightly. "U-um ye-yeah? I'm f-fine"

Emmett was less than convinced. He needed to know who or what hurt his mate, so he could end it's pitiful existence, then and there. Though, he decided not to add anymore fuel to the fire...yet.

"If you say so. We should head to to class"

"Yeah"

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you still want to, then yes" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett causing him to absolutely gush at his adorableness

"Yep! Totally!" (Y/N) chuckled at Emmett's response

While heading to class they just talked about whatever was on their minds. Well, mostly Emmett since (Y/N) is a closed off little bean <3. But, that didn't stop either of them from enjoying themselves. Even once they where in class they softly whispered to each other. Their teacher didn't care much because (Y/N) is a model student and Emmett is a popular kid (you know those teachers that try and get in with the cool kids? Yeah, that's their teacher). When they went their seperate way's for their second block (Y/N) though that was it, like all of the other people he's tutored. He just thought Emmett was being kind and he'd see him after school for their study session. But he was proven wrong at lunchtime.

(Y/N) was eating by himself at a table listening to music and singing along softly when he felt vibrations coming from next to him. He looked over to not only see Emmett, but the whole Cullen entourage in tow. He was shocked to say the very least.

"Can we sit here?"

Collecting himself he responded with a soft "Yeah". The Cullen's then sat down, Emmett sitting on your right and Alice on your left. She squealed and looked twoards you "I've wanted to actually talk to you for a while now! Emmett talks about you and your singing too! I hope I can hear you one day!" This, this was how (Y/N).exe has stopped working. You where an embarassed blushing mess while looking at Emmett in mock betrayal. 'He talks about me?' you thought. He just smirked enjoying your cuteness.

"Ahh!!! He's soo adorable!!" Now you were a even darker red. Only provoking Alice more as she got slightly closer to you. You were about to curl in on yourself when you felt that you were being griped by the waist and pulled into a solid chest.

"Alice, your going to make him explode" Emmett said slightly, just slightly defensive

She laughed "My my what about you then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look down, bonehead" Rosalie butted in amused

Emmett did what she said and saw you an absolute wreck. If a cherry was a person it would be you at this point-

Now he was trying to compose himself. The sight of both of you made everyone at the table start chuckling. After that whole fiasco you got to know Emmett's family and started to enjoy their presence. Something you never really had the pleasure of experiencing...

Over the next few weeks, Emmett did everything he could to be even remotely close to (Y/N). They would do studying sessions at the library, and after they would get something to eat. Well, only (Y/N) did. He thought it was weird Emmett never ate anything, but Emmett assured (Y/N) that he was eating well. They would often go to parks and just have fun too. However, all fun things come to an end. When one day (Y/N) didn't show up to school. Emmett just thought (Y/N) got a cold, but soon days turned to weeks and he was getting worried. He didn't know where (Y/N) lived so he couldn't go to his house and see if he was alright, but one day Carlise came home a little later than usual which was not unnoticed by his family.

"You're back late" Esme commented

"Well there is a teenager in critical condition. He came in with severe lacerations all over his body and what seemed to be marks of repeated tramua as well. He came in a couple of weeks ago and was in a coma until he flatlined earlier this morning" Carlise took off his doctor coat and placed it on the chair making his way to Esme. As he stood next to her he looked over to see his "children" with wide eyes

"Is something wrong?" Carlise asked a bit worried

"When did that patient come into the hospital?" Emmett asked urgently

"(Date). Why?"

With that all of the vampires stood up and started to get ready to go to the hospital

"What's wrong? Where are you guys going?" Esme asked

"That's most likely my mate" Emmett replied, making it clear he was irritated

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Esme rushed everyone out the door and to the hospital

At the hospital, they made their way to the room (Y/N) was at. Once there, Carlisle motioned for Emmett to enter first. Emmett went in and was shocked by what he saw. (Y/N) had many tubes attached to him. His body was wrapped in bandages and his breathing was hitching. Emmett walked over to the resting (Y/N) and reached out for his hand, grasping it softly. He rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a reassuring manner, then sat down next to the bed, still holding (Y/N)'s hand. He could only think about how much he failed his mate. How could he let this happen? He knew there was something going on, but he did nothing? He turned a blind eye to it all. How can he face (Y/N) when he wakes up? Emmett's thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Emmett replied

"I'm (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

With that, Emmett's world stopped. Boyfriend? How? Why? Was I to late? Emmett turned to (Y/N) conflicted, but that's when he saw the heart monitor. His heart rate was not that high a while ago.

"Can you leave me with my boyfriend?" (B/F/N) asked harshly

Emmett reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door, but not before taking one last look at (Y/N). Once he was out of the room, Emmett started walking down the hallway back to his family.

"Who was that guy that went in there?" Rosalie went up to Emmett

"Apparently, he's (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

The Cullen's looked at Emmett in sadness and pity, but they noticed something

"You don't seem that bothered about it" Jasper said

"Well, before he came in, (Y/N)'s heart rate was normal, but when he spoke his heart rate rose"

"So, you think-"

"Yeah, his 'boyfriend' must've done that to him"

"That's awful" Esme covered her mouth in shock

"We can't really do anything if we don't have proof though" Alice said irritated

"Then we'll just have to get some" Emmett smirked, making the other Cullen's nod

They made their plan's and put them on hold until you were sent home. In the meantime, Emmett came to visit whenever your 'boyfriend' was never there and if he was, Carlisle was keeping a closer eye on you than normal. He also noticed that (B/F/N) would only ever sit in the chair across the room and when he would glance at you a look of disgust would be present on his face. This further solidified his resolve to get you out of that situation.

~A few days later while Emmett is visiting you~

"We're going to help you (Y/N), Everything will be better soon" Emmett reassured the sleeping male whilst holding his hand. He then felt (Y/N) clench his hand and looked up to see those beautiful (E/C) orbs opening

"Em-"

"Shh, don't strain yourself yet" Emmett stood up and pressed the 'call' button just above (Y/N)'s head before sitting back down

"Where-"

"The hospital...can you tell me what happened to you?"

After a brief pause, (Y/N) shook his ever so slightly

"That's fine, just tell me when you're ready" Emmett smiled sweetly. He saw (Y/N)'s face contort into sadness as he started crying. "I-I'm sorry f-for worrying you" (Y/N) choked out between sobs. Emmett couldn't see him cry like this, so he started to comfort and reassure the other male. "You'll be okay...I won't let you get hurt anymore..."

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts! Sorry it took way longer than I said! I will now be working on the requests I have gotten and a new series I've conjured up ;)By my little Otaku's!!

#emmett cullen #Emmett Cullen x male reader #Emmett Cullen x male!reader #gay #lgbtq #Twilight #Twilight x male reader #Twilight x male!reader #the cullen family #the cullens #pt1 #part 1

[beels-burger-babe]

Angst Masterlist

It's okay. We all need a good painful fic every now then. Feel your feels, and enjoy these fics where I continuously hurt MC.

There And Back Again: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Epilogue - PODFIC on AO3 Summary: What if MC hadn’t been seen by everyone after watching their death and went back to their original timeline??

TW: Spoilers for Lesson 16, Mentions of Murder and Violence, Trauma, and Panic Attacks/PTSD

Fool Me Twice: Part 1, Part 2 Summary: A month after the Solomon incident, MC goes missing again. The brothers try to remain calm and not to overreact this time and wait for their human to return. Only, something isn’t quite right. TW: ANGST! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Kidnapping, Vomiting, Descriptions of immense pain, gore/injuries, torture

A Little Voice Told Me: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don’t measure up? Ft. Poly!MC

A Pain You’ll Soon Regret: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,  Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. Ft. Poly!MC TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don’t know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury

The Five Times Mammon Did Something For The Others: Summary: ( And the one time the others did something for him.)  Without his brothers even realizing it, Mammon has gone out of his way time and time again to make sure that they are safe, happy, and healthy, and yet no one ever seems to do the same for him. Hell, no one even thanks him for it.

It’s Got To Be Me: Summary: The brothers and MC wake up in a room with no exits or furniture. Only a pressure platform in a corner and a sign that reads “All of you may leave, when you choose one who will stay.” TW: Heavy angst, implied drugging, talk and discussion of self-sacrifice, anxiety/panic attacks, brothers fighting,

Come Back To Me Summary: Summary: As MC is sent to go back in time and find answers for Diavolo, the brothers are left to wait for their return. Time ticks by and the pact holders grow more anxious until things go dreadfully wrong.

CW: Heavy Angst, descriptions of pain, injuries, and suffocation/choking, character death, GRIEF, Scratching at arms (Mammon)

Tired Summary: MC is having a bad day, but the brothers are there to try and make it a little easier.

CW: Depression and touch starvation

Something's Off Summary: MC starts acting weird and the brothers are determined to figure out why

CW: Drugging/Brainwashing (Love potion), non-consensual relationship, Violence/Torture (? I think it counts as torture)

Time And Time Again: Summary: Barbatos loves MC. He has loved them for nearly as long as he has known. He goes back and relives every second that he can with them, over and over again. But, after experiencing a time line so many times, one begins to notice certain patterns — MC getting hurt, for example. And after one too many times, he decides that he can't stand idle by any longer. *Spoilers up to Lesson 16*

Changing Behaviours: Summary: Something has MC shaken to their very core. The brothers can see it, but they don't know how to help. CW: Paranoia, Mentions of past abusive relationships, very brief implied suicide (of a background character), thoughts of murder,

#obey me #obey me shall we date #masterlist #obey me masterlist #fanfic masterlist #masterpost #angst #obey me angst #heavy angst #content warning #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the  burning spotlights and the applause and  the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

1.5k

Warnings:  The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences  mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

Profiles #2 - here - part 2

Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway. 

Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there. 

Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.

So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there. 

But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me? 

Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.

He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word. 

The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting. 

Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.

On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen: 

“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button. 

Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head. 

I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. 

How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day. 

“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.” 

If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them. 

And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here? 

Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal. 

Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything. 

Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert. 

He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.

Comments or Ask to be tagged!

Uploaded : 09/04/2021

Taglist: @sweetmoonlight9, @mickmoon, @dreamer95, @loveyoongles, @spicetouched , @jikooksgirl19, @summerevelyn , @springjade , @clevercoley, @prooteus, @sehun096rainbow, @ainsle-e, @ifyouareme, @sunshinee0-0, @fangirl125reader, @sea-nevermind-enthusiast, @atlantis-atlas, @thequeen-kat, @naajix, @skyys-universe , @sichajeon , @yukiehyukie, @amxranthinesworld , @bunzom, @potate-oh, @mawwnsterr​, @ celaenaelentiyavox, @dvoz-writes​ , @honeybaby-94​ ,

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #magicshopnet #author: dolly #verse: idol #verse: soulmate #soulmate au #bts soulmate au #yn idol #lot of angst #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin centred #jimin pov #Angst with a happy ending

[lixnininotnay]

Hey do u think you could just do some yan hank x reader :) thank u :)

Hello, and thank you for being the first one to send me a request! And sorry for making you wait for so long, first I thought doing a few headcanons, but soon my ideia became an one-shot, and then it turned out in a full story (sort of, lol). Let's start this tragedy! I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: this story contains a lot murder, description of death, blood, emotional, psychological and physical abuse, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships and behavior, yandere, obsession and others topics. It's not recommended to read it if you are uncomfortable with any of those.

P.s.: if I forgot to put some warning or if you spot any grammatical error, please tell me! I would be thankful.

All the mistakes you made (A Yandere!Hank x reader story)

Chapter I. - Your first mistake.

You kicked and squirmed against the man who held you in a grip that felt like steel, but even though you were giving it your all, your resistance was showing no result. In fact, it looked to him like you were just a rag doll that he was carrying on his shoulder, but it was also because you were weak and heavily injured.

"Let me go, your fucking bastard!" You hissed. No answer. He just continued walking stilly, like if it was the most ordinary thing that ever happened.

But to be truthful, that wasn't the most eccentric thing he'd ever done. Hank was famous for causing large-scale massacres, but you didn't believe in it before, after all, how could a single person destroy entire units by himself and without leaving any witnesses?

You thought it was all a farce, that in reality it was a group that was after all this killing, and they pretended to be only one person to strike fear so nobody would try to counter them. So you ended up accepting the mission to go after that guy called "Hank" in order to investigate further and see if your theory was correct, you were curious to see the truth. That was your first mistake. You were in an arsenal of the A.A.H.W. with other mercenaries and agency members, they apparently managed to locate approximately where his base is and planned to attack in a large number, and they also talked about the possiblity of having a pizza party that might happen after, but you didn't mind too much.

While everyone was getting ready and arming themselves to the teeth, you could hear an explosion noise, followed by gunfire and screams filled of agony. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't ratiocinate correctly.

You quickly obeyed your senses and threw yourself behind a pillar, thus protecting yourself from the barrage of gunfire that followed right after, that covered the entire room in red and yellow. After everyone realized that the enemy had finally run out of ammo, the ones who survived came out of their hiding places and started trying to fight back, but were quickly killed one by one. Picking up an AK-74, you tried to get as far away as possible, knowing that facing danger head-on would be futile.

Going up a staircase and reaching a higher landing, you got behind a container and peeked out to see who the enemies were. As a consequence, taking a fright when realizing that it was just one person, not a group, easily killing several with just a katana in hand. You tried to ignore this fact and focus on the battle, firing and managing to land two shots on him.

Hank rapidly became annoyed, and started to ignore the agents that were going at him and changed his direction to you and the other two snipers who were on your side. For a split second, as he lifted his head to see where the shots were coming from, you could see bloodlust in his eyes, similar to a malicious and hungry animal, it was terrifying.

And then he began to move in a fierce way, brutally slicing anyone on his path to you. You were trying to reload your gun and to back away even more, but he had already gone up the stairs, kicked the closest sniper in the face causing them to hit their head against the wall, instantly killing them. He tried to cut you in half with his katana right away, but you managed to hold the blow using the AK-74 and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him away.

The second sniper tried to shoot him, but Hank managed to ricochet two bullets, hitting them back and in the meantime you bolted behind a wall, he took the gun from the first one he killed, and you started exchanging shots. You got hit twice, once in the shoulder and once in the abdomen, and you ran out of bullets, when he realized that, he went straight towards you and tucked the gun behind his back. You tried to run away, but he had already reached and started to strangle you, he wanted to have the satisfaction of killing you with his bare hands.

You struggled for air, but his grip was stronger, you could see the sadistic urge to kill in him, without showing an ounce of pity.

Just when you thought it was your end, the second soldier shot Hank, before they took their last breath and died in their own blood trail made after they crawled close enough to aim. In the second he momentarily loosened his grip, even though you were still dizzy from the lack of air, you managed to grab the gun from Hank's back after the shot, struck him with it, taking him off you and getting up quickly with the help of the the wall, trying to hold the gun and aim it, shivering from the adrenaline, bruises and out of breath.

"It's over. Just give up already." You demanded.

"You're a really annoying bitch." Hank hissed, still on the floor and with one hand on the left side of his face, where you hit him and cracked the glass of his goggles.

And all of a sudden, just when you thought Hank was finished, he got up, you tried to react but your movements were still slow. He grabbed the gun from your hands, caught you around the neck with his other hand, making you bang your head against the wall and then knocking you to the ground. The impact was so bad that you felt blood seeping from your lips and a tremendous headache, making you whimper in pain. Hank just chuckled at your state.

"Goin' down that easily? You're pathetic." Hank mocked you as he approximated. You tried to creep away but he stepped on your back, stopping you once more. He bent down to look at you closely, your eyes still had the slendor of the desire to fight and survive, an expression on the face from someone that wouldn't give up yet, he loved it. He stopped for a second to think, then continued. "Y'know what? I liked you, just love your type." You tried to process what he told you, but nothing made sense. "I'm keepin' you with me. Stay here." He said as he got off from you, but before shooting one of your legs. What made you scream out loud in pain, the adrenaline of the moment passed causing all the pain to hit you at once, while Hank came down from the platform to kill the rest of the agents, and the A.T.P. soldiers and mags that just arrived.

Everything in you hurts, even breathing, it was hard to relax. You spent a few minutes lying on the floor listening to the gunshots and screams in the background that haunted your ears, sounds that were becoming more muffled as the time passed, and trying to somehow control the pain, however your efforts did not yield results, the burning sensation of your wounds remained and you were struggling to not faint. When your vision started to get blurry, you heard something:

"Hello? Anyone's listening? Hello?" You turned your head to the voice, it was coming from the room that had the radio. "I repeat, anyone's listening?"

Clinging to what you thought was a glimmer of hope, you rise up with difficulty from the ground and began to stumble to the station, almost slipping in your own puddle of blood. After arriving with difficulty in the chamber, you answered. "Yes, (Y/N) talking, it's an emergency." You battled to say, your throat felt like it was on fire.

"What happened?"

"Hank invaded the base, we need units, NOW!" You tried to demand, your voice was still weak.

"It will take some time, we don't have any available next to your location." That irritated you.

"For the fuck sakes, we don't have time--" They hung up, wich made you rage and question if all your efforts were in vain.

You tried to keep your composure, after stopping for a few seconds to calm down, you rummaged around and found some bandages and an adrenaline shot in one of the lockers, which you used to cover the wounds and applied to yourself, now managing to stand up and even walk. And digging a little further you found a knife bag with a knife inside, which you decided to hide in one of your boots, and a pistol that you kept in your hands.

When you left the room, you decided that you were going to run away without anyone noticing, to hell the reward money. Watching your surroundings and hiding behind the containers, you saw that Hank was no longer in sight which made you panic, but you also saw the body of the guy who saved you, you tried to check their pulse, but they were gone.

"Thank you. Rest in peace, my man." You said in respect, while closing their eyes, knowing that if they didn't help, you would be dead. Before getting up and leaving you saw that in their pocket there was a grenade, which you decided to take.

You rushed down the stairs and walked down one of the long corridors for what felt like hours, the place looked like a maze full of corpses, making it obvious that Hank has been through here. Entering and turning in several corridors, trying to remember where is the exit, made you regret to not paying attention and memorize the place, this base was gigantic.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching you, you entered a room that looked like a dormitory and hid under a bunk bed, carrying the pistol. You heard the door open again.

"You really don't obey when someone says to, do you?" You can feel the irritation in his speech, sounded like Hank was searching for you for some time already.

He began looking around the room for you, kicking and knocking over some furniture in the process, you started crawling under the beds trying to make as much silence as possible and get next to the door. For a moment he stopped and was silent, a sudden movement that made you uneasy. He was trying to hear you. After what seemed an eternity of silence, he turned his head towards the bed you were hiding underneath.

Fuck it.

You abruptly ran to the door for your life, and before he could do anything, you took aim and started shooting towards him to keep your distance and threw the grenade at him, closing the entrance as you left. Even though, he protected himself with using the beds, leaving no major injuries on him, it really took him by surprise. Hank didn't expect that you could do all of this for your bruises, you sure were an interesting person. Now he really wants you.

You sprinted as fast as you could, your movements becoming more clumsy as the pain returned, but it didn't stop you. Finally finding the exit, you spotted a vehicle that could easily get in and hot-wire it, but wasn't able to, despair making it even harder. In this short meantime, you felt a pair of hands pulling you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you out of the vehicle.

"You really know how to get under my skin." he admitted, both out of admiration and irritation in a threatening way, looking directly in your eyes. And he threw you over his shoulder, hurting you and making you drop your pistol in the process. He couldn't be gentle even if his life depended on it. "I'd have drive us both to the base, but you are such a fucking annoyance that makes it impossible." And then he started walking with you on his shoulder.

What he said made you shiver, what was he planning to do with you? You started to struggle, waiting for him to let go of you, but he just held you tighter. You soon ran out of strength and gave up, getting more tired and weaker by every minute, all this agitation was too much for you, so eventually, you end up passing out from exhaustion.

Hank still couldn't figure out what he found so fascinating about you, maybe because you, a nobody, managed to survive him for so long, few did, or because of your determination and how you surprised him, or even the way you looked at him, he loved to see that mixture of fear, hate and will to live in your face, it was so intriguing.

Whatever it was, he wouldn't be worrying and questioning himself nonstop right now, he didn't need to. Because he would have all the time he wanted to discover now.

#madcom x reader #yandere madness combat #madness combat x reader #yandere hank #yandere x reader #tw yandere