#and he digs him out and saves him from dying of cold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ph4ngz · 1 year

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[DARK CONTENT] Dabi x ProHero!Reader

Warning(s): NON-CON, Reader is under a quirk suppressant, physical abuse, Dabi is kinda scary and psycho tbh, Reader is a very new hero, crippling corruption kink, use of fire quirk (he brands reader), mtf oral, ass play, nipple play, Dabi is a huge dickhead, cumming inside, talk of getting pregnant toward the end, kinda hurried to finish it lmao...

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"Oh, good morning sleeping beauty."

Your restless stirring seizes the exact moment an unfamiliar hoarse, teasing voice registers in your brain. What the fuck?

Urging to find the source of said voice, you find an intense pain blossoming over the span of your right cheek when you attempt to lift yourself from the ground despite the handcuffs binding your wrists. You'd opened your heavy eyelids for a split second just now, all you saw was the blinding sun beaming through many jagged gaps of a wall made of cracked cement, but the sudden pain had made you clench them shut again before you could make any sense of your fleeting view.

"Ooooh, yeah... Spinner threw you to the floor last night. Impact do a number on ya, huh? Sa'shame none of your useless hero friends could be bothered to save you."

The scent of cigarettes and damp concrete surrounds you, the strength of it almost suffocating. Where the hell are you? Who is Spinner?

"F-Fuck off." hostility laces your words, yet your supposed kidnapper is rather amused by them, a scoff ringing in your sensitive ears. His heavy footsteps echo everywhere as he saunters around above your place on the cold floor, purposely keeping a certain distance so you can't see his face if you open your eyes. The ground's temperature is numbing your shivering body through your thin training getup. Goosebumps cover your chilled skin, although you're not entirely sure whether it's the flooring or the anonymous villain at fault for them.

"Unless you wanna be burnt to ashes, you better watch the attitude, bitch."

White pulses in your vision once the villain stoves the heel of his steel-toed boot into your side, the thick block digging into your ribcage and leaving a dusty, dark imprint on your shirt.

Your bloodcurdling cries echo within the confines of what you assume is some warehouse tucked away in the city, car horns and occasionally loud pedestrians fading in and out of your hearing capabilities. It's entirely possible that your screams will not be acknowledged from this distance, obviously decreasing your chance of gaining backup from other pros.

You consider unleashing your quirk, but deem your current situation grants too little information for you to use it yet. Best to wait until it's guaranteed safe and necessary. Even though, guessing this guy's quirk is heat or fire-based, your own powers wouldn't be of much help.

The heel bruising your side lifts slightly but not completely, relief only surfacing for a quick second before being dragged away by the villain ruthlessly nudging you around with his foot like a feline plays with it's prey. High pitched groans pass through your gritted teeth, making him close his eyes as if listening to the soothing whisper of each tree in a forest.

"God, can you tone it down? My ears might bleed from all that useless whining." Another gravelly voice enters the vicinity and you pause your involuntary wailing and thrashing. Once again, you open your eyes to be met with nothing but the ground.

You recognise that voice.

Flashbacks of what past UA students refer to as 'The USJ Incident' and "The Training Camp Incident" flicker inside your mind like a dying flame. Shigaraki. Holy shit, you've been captured by the League. You could've sworn your heart just skipped at least four beats.

"Oh boss, such a buzzkill." the pressure on your ribs finally disappears and the boots responsible for your noisiness step directly in front of your line of sight, albeit sideways which, when paired with your facial injuries, brings on some dizziness.

You're practically paralysed as the man you'd woken up to lowers himself into a steady crouch beside you, allowing his patchwork face to be visible. A pair of the most enthralling blue eyes seem to glow beneath a veil of messy obsidian hair. Dabi, the only member of the league who excels in long distance attacks. His quirk is basically fire, from what little findings you've heard from Hawks during your mere few weeks of being a number 6 hero. Wonderful.

"Is this the hero Spinner brought back for us, Shiggy? Woah, she's super adorable!" A petite, blonde girl lays a hand over the shoulder pad of Dabi's coat, eager to inspect. Toga. Deku had told you about this one as you'd volunteered to help at that infamous training camp during your third year, Uraraka too.

A faint shout from another room, “Not as super adorable as you, my darling Toga! Yeah, you’re totally smokin'!”,sounds before Shigaraki speaks up again.

"Fresh out of UA, her quirk would be an insanely helpful addition in order to achieve my goals, but her pain tolerance is something to be ashamed of. I suggest leaving the room before your ears are damaged beyond repair."

The chuckling man before you dons a sickening saccharine smirk as he holds eye contact, "She's a noisy one, ain'tcha? Kinda cute too."

You glare daggers at him from your place below him, soft and aching cheek smushed against the dirtied concrete still.

"N'awh, don't go lookin' at me like that..." Dabi tilts his head, pouting with childish ways lacing his every word.

The way his large, shaky hand threads itself through the hairs on your head shouldn't be as comforting as you think it should be, especially after he'd stepped on you like nothing more than an empty soda can not even five minutes ago. You swallow dryly at the fact that his palm is covering the entire visible side of your skull, then sparks crackle inside of your veins, every part of you tingling at the villain's blunt nails barely scraping along your scalp.

Shigaraki mutters a few words whilst you close your eyes, something along the lines of: "Overhaul" and "forty-eight hours", to which Dabi responds with an ominous "how exciting". Maybe, maybe not. You don't quite catch anything they say, but you’ll stick with your guesses.

You're ashamed when you come to realise that the other members, even Toga whom was directly in front of you, had already filtered into another room as you'd been focusing mainly on the calming sensation. Some hero you are, you wonder if somebody had made a mistake by placing you at number 6 on the charts.

No, you don't have time to wonder this, wonder that.

Not when you're alone with him.

The cold hardly allows you to fully experience the next surge of agony, and you're somewhat grateful for that, when Dabi yanks your head upward by your hair to then fit his other hand beneath your arm, propping you up like a limp ragdoll.

You’re sat with your back against the wall now, legs spread slightly and wobbly like jelly. Your wrists seem to be as heavy as led, laid awkwardly on the gritty concrete.

“What’re you gonna do to me…” you exhale with utmost fear, lack of confidence visible to whoever wants to see it whilst he situates himself lazily on the floor in front of you, one leg splayed out and the other tucked in. The corners of the villain’s lips pull upward at your question. Dabi relishes in your wide eyed reaction to his joyous smirk. Shit, he hasn’t even given an answer yet!

“Fuck, I love this question. Alright…”

No.

You strain to activate your quirk, whether this environment is safe enough to use it or not. It’s necessary. You perform everything in your power, every ounce of inner strength seeping from your pores… but it’s not working. Not on your first try, second, third nor fourth.

No, no, no!—

Azul, infernal threat emitting from the calloused palm of your captor immediately brings an end to your violent squirming, the instantaneous lick of scorching flames enough to stun you.

“Jesus Christ, have a day off. The boss wasn’t kidding when he said you were a fresh one.”

Despite the panicked currents whizzing back and forth within your state of mental whiplash, the features on your face relax. Your jaw, slack and vulnerable to snap with a single blow. Eyes drooped and void of metaphorical light, aimed his way.

Your kidnapper’s croaky chuckles bury themselves inside your poor head, his voice unforgettable.

“Pfft, perk up a little will'ya?” Leaning forward, Dabi pinches both of your hard yet covered nipples to elicit an adorable yelp from his newest muse. The sudden stimulation has you come alive once more, reacting in a way you don’t want to pay mind to.

“That’s better, riiiight?” The utterly disgusting, condescending mumble that falls from his lips when he’s tantalisingly peeling your skintight vest above your bare tits dares your brows to bow, but you manage to refrain.

What the hell is wrong with you?

“Nngh—! Stop it! Bastard!” The humiliating villain’s fingers rise to torture you with your pebbled nipples a second time, though now he’s carefully circling them with his thumbs as he observes you helplessly wriggling away from his touch. It’s making your clit throb, and you can feel the arousal starting to gather in sticky droplets before soaking into your panties.

Your captivating, fucking adorable, perky tits fully exposed to him, nipples painfully hard and sensitive thanks to the cold. Dabi's smiling still, like you're some tiny, mewling kitten in front of him. Stubborn but so curious, ready to play with him yet too proud and full of hero syndrome bullshit to admit how much your claws are begging to sink into the pleasure.

He's squeezing the fat of your breasts harder now, the soothing heat of his palms warming your chest. Or is that something else entirely?

“Hah, hah, h- AH!” An ear ringing slap to your already bruised cheek causes you to cry out in stinging pain. You can already picture the huge, pink handprint staining your face. During this moment, you sense him shuffle along the concrete floor to close even more distance between each other, kneeling between your legs.

The involuntary pout curling your bottom lip would probably be more than enough for the childish man to fall head over heels for you if he could, if he wasn't already out of his fucking mind. Two pairs of thumbs and forefingers grab ahold of your sore, puffed out cheeks and stretch them, squeeze them, mush your features which ultimately makes you appear even cuter. Dabi's patchwork face is directly above yours, hovering menacingly and casting a shadow over you as he begins to humiliate you once again.

“You're so precious, ain’t ya…” he nods and copies the fearful, pouting expression you’re blessing him with. He circles his thumb over the hot mark on your face then slowly trails it across to your bottom lip, playing with your mouth as the dirtiest thoughts play out in his vision.

You’re sat there, shivering uncontrollably and trapped under his predatory gaze, watching his other hand lowering closer toward the area between your legs in your peripheral vision. You’re about to break eye contact with the intimidating villain when he presses a few of his fingers over your clothed clit, making your thighs try to clamp together on instinct, although Dabi’s keeping them open with his body wedged between.

He giggles hoarsely, finding your pathetic body’s reactions so very cute. An experimental circle of his digits against your now pulsing bud has you holding your breath, doing your damn best to ignore the lowkey clenching of your leaking hole. After a moment or two, he swiftly discards of your sneakers to be met with the most endearing pair of socks, an array of tiny strawberries decorating the pink cotton. Soon, you notice him tugging at the hem of your joggers and images of what’s bound to happen if you let him pull them down project inside your muddled brain like a one second slideshow.

You’re scared. Absolutely terrified. But you have to acknowledge it now, the feeling has grown too much to disregard any longer. You’re so fucking turned on.

“Ass up.” Dabi orders whilst backing up a couple inches on his knees so there’s more room.

And you comply, willingly! Well, it’s not like you can make use of your quirk to escape, so…

He practically rips your bottoms off of your body in one fell swoop, leaving you almost fully exposed bar a pair of thin socks, matching underwear and the vest bunched up around your collarbones. He’s eyeing you like a starving vulture, faintly drawling out a “good girllll”.

Of course, your body reacts in the worst of ways to the villain’s praise, toes curling and fists closing and opening. He notices, and you swallow hard.

“Oh, so you get off on praise? Want me to tell you that you’re doing well? That you’re making me feel so good?”

Tears are beginning to blur your vision as he shuffles closer once more and leans in, pushes your panties aside to spread your pretty pussy with both of his thumbs. Your fingers twitch when Dabi dips his head into the side of your neck, lips ghosting upward until they reach your earlobe.

“Or do you want me to bully you? Make you cry, make you fucking despise me, play with your little virgin clit until you pass. The FUCK.” He gives a biting smack to your cunt, “Out?”

The tears escape at the sudden shouting and they don't stop, even if the rest of your face tells a completely different story. You can't tell whether your mouth opened in a silent moan or a silent scream just now. Dabi licks his lips at the view.

"Awww, know what? I like the second option much better." he coos softly, kissing the side of your head. It's his body heat drawing you closer into his affectionate kiss, the way it's radiating off of his entire form is making you crave his warm touch. Right?

In a matter of seconds his thumb is already back on your pussy, and the stimulation is so powerful that you can already feel your abdomen tensing. You’re gritting your teeth with panic, wide eyes observing his hand between your thighs as he’s biting your neck.

With a single buck of your hips, Dabi presses his forehead against yours, donning a mean smirk with his eyes closed.

“Desperate.” He almost whispers whilst positioning his other hand directly on top of your lower tummy, pressing slightly and creating an irresistible pressure which gets you that much closer to release.

Once more, the villain lowers his head to face your nipples, taking one into his mouth and watching your sweet face struggle to hide the truth. He circles your clit faster, his touch hardly there at all but enough to have you squirming. The near unbearable pleasure you experience when his tongue repeatedly swipes across one of your hardened buds is making you pant, jaw slack.

You’re almost laying down, only your head and shoulders leant upon the wall now, how easily you let your guard fall is terrifying.

“Stop, stop stop stop—” you gasp and plead for him to seize his actions, but it’s no use.

“Or what. Feel too good, sweetheart? You gonna cum for me? Heh, I can see it written all over your face, how pathetic.” Dabi muses, his words so condescending and hurtful.

You shouldn’t cum. You shouldn’t. You should be screaming and yelling and doing everything in your power to escape. Not just laying here willingly, letting this happen to you—

“C’monnnnn, I know you want to. You wanna let it all go, cum all over my fingers,”

Stop.

“You want me to go faster, make my little virgin hero’s legs shake,”

Stop!

“That’s it, that’s it, cum for me, cum for me—”

“Fuck!” You yelp, voice breaking after trying to suppress it for so long.

His touch is removed from your pussy as soon as your orgasm hits, only to be returned by his long middle finger rapidly brushing along and rubbing your inner walls. Instead of overstimulating you, it makes you yearn for more. More orgasms, more touch, more him.

This is bad, very bad.

Your high has hardly calmed down at all when he orders you to stand, “up, face against the wall.”

You do as told, humiliatingly eager. Although a bit too slowly due to your hands being cuffed, so Dabi stations an iron grip on your upper arms and tugs you upward, most likely leaving a bruise to match the rest. He manhandles you into his desired position, an unmistakable glint of excitement in his eyes.

You catch the villain lowering into a crouch position behind you after arching your back and spreading your legs. You wince when his large hands painfully grab both of your asscheeks, spreading them to see both twitching holes. Arousal and cum are dripping from your cunt, his needy tongue snaking from his mouth on impulse, and he lets you take a good look at him too.

“Blehhhh.” Dabi almost taunts you childishly with his mouth from behind you, your head turned to witness his display, and your brain willingly burning the dirty image into itself. His blue eyes are captivating, so bright that they seem to glow even in the daylight. You notice his eyes begin to narrow as a devilish smile also rises on his lips, clearly having seen your moment of fascination.

With you still looking, he disappears from your gaze to hurriedly close his wet, soft lips over your puffy, throbbing clit. His hands are holding onto your ass for stability, fingernails clawing at the skin and leaving red, raw strips in their wake. There’s no time wasted, one heavy lick after another, more of your juices gather upon his tastebuds and he’s fucking ecstatic.

You’re in too deep to try and hold on to your resolve now, you know that, but maybe it’s just your nature. Strained moans escape your plumped lips, deep pink and sore from biting down so hard in order to refrain from enjoying your captor’s antics.

Lewd noises of suction and your wetness sound as his mouth pulls away from your cunt for the first time since he started.

“Ugh, fuck…” he groans lowly, his heavy breath fanning out onto your aimlessly clenching, drenched hole when he leans back on his heel to take in yet another view of your behind. A few seconds pass before he decides you’re too addictive to stay away.

“Mmph- Ah, you taste so sweet, so fucking innocent…” Dabi breathes, his skilled tongue flicking your bud back and forth so much that your knees threaten to buckle, and of course he wouldn’t let that go unnoticed.

“Look at you, mm, can hardly handle it.”

He’s eating you so fast that it’s getting more and more difficult for your brain to keep up, and before you know it you’re coming undone for the second time. You barely even registered your orgasm building up, so this time it’s much more intense.

“GRR! C-CUMMING!”

Dabi’s irises swirl with unexpected surprise and pure elation.

Your eyes clench shut, harder than ever as you endure the way your hole spasms, the way your body jolts under the villain’s hold on you. Thighs so desperately trying to close again, you strain to keep them open for him, even as you feel something watery sliding down the plush skin.

Even as you’ve hit your peak, he’s still got his mouth on you, this time shaking his head with his long tongue lolling around and gliding over every inch of your sex. For a split second, you wonder why he’s riding you through this one. And for another split second, you internally thank the concrete wall in front of you for being something to lean your full weight on.

“Sh-Shit, you’re a squirter too?” He asks rhetorically whilst standing, using the back of his hand to wipe his chin. Man, he's starting to think he should keep you after this.

“I… I don’t know! I’m sorryAH!” Your apologies are cut short by a firm smack to your ass and a breathless chuckle.

“You’re so CUTE!” He yells with a crazed grin and delivers another smack, harder than the last and sure to turn your skin a darker shade of red.

You’re well beyond crying over the pain now, instead you’re starting to fucking enjoy it, crying over the pleasure. Broken sobs echo with each crisp smack he hurtles toward your ass until he stops completely.

Without any warning, Dabi leans over your trembling body to take your jaw in one hand, keeping it steady for his other thumb to bully its way into your mouth. He coats it with your spit, rubbing the pad of his thumb all over the surface of your tongue and eventually removes himself from you.

The silence is deafening, that is until you break it with a sharp exhale.

He’s slathering your asshole with your own saliva, circling around it and causing you to pant, who knows why. Exhaustion, anxiety, anticipation, fear… pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” He places his other hand around your waist, his featherlight touch tickling you slightly and making you twitch.

“Filthy girl.”

The harder he begins to push against your puckered hole, the louder and faster your breathing becomes. He’s contently watching you clench around nothing from above your pathetic form, and it’s when he dares to slide his thumb past the rim that you finally break.

“Urngh! Pl-ease, please!” You beg, non injured cheek scraping slightly along the wall.

“Begging? For what?”

You pause to think for a moment. Mind blank. There’s no answer, and Dabi can see it on your face.

“Haha, my dumb little hero doesn’t even know what she’s begging for! What, are you all fucked out already?” His raspy voice is pleasant in contrast to the words he says with it.

Suddenly, the villain slips his slicked thumb fully inside of your ass, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking it backward at the same time. He leans forward again, only to whisper in your ear.

“I hate to break it to you, precious, but I’m sure as hell not done with you yet.”

It seems like your entire world spins ten times faster, like you’re floating as he speaks.

“God, I’m gonna fucking ruin you…” he states, voice still low as his hold on your hair drops and he softly caresses the length of your spine in a way that’s frighteningly loving.

In a matter of minutes his coat is flung onto the ground, jeans are unzipped and pushed down with his underwear to free his throbbing cock, a sigh of relief from him indicating that his hard length was getting worse to deal with by the second.

You’re soaked, your cum spilling out of your hole without much of a push at all, and it’s driving Dabi insane. He wants to corrupt you, your sweet little cunt is practically calling his name, just asking for him to claim it. He’s sick of all the foreplay nonsense, all he wants is to split you in half, fuck you so dumb on his fat cock to the point where you can’t even form a coherent sentence.

So that’s what he’s going to do. Say buh-bye to the adorable virgin hero you are.

Quickly running both hands through his obsidian head of hair, he stares at his dick. Angry, long and jumping. Yeah. You’re destroyed. Your captor grips both of your shoulders, his cock level with your puffy, slicked up pussy without even having to align it. You’re the perfect size for him, now let’s see if you’re the perfect fit.

“MMPH! NNGH!” You squeal loudly, the searing pain originating from your sex automatically sending hot teardrops over your waterlines, the corners of your mouth downturned into a cute, wobbly pout.

“Oh, shut up. That was only the tip. Some pain threshold for a hero.” He says through gritted teeth, hiding his twisted enjoyment.

Dabi’s sinking you down onto his cock by your shoulders, his forceful grasp too much for you to wriggle away from. Inch by inch, he’s sliding in, the pain so overwhelming that you’re feeling lightheaded again.

“Almost done, don’t worry. You’ll be screaming for me by the end, virgin slut.”

That’s it. His attitude is getting to you.

“Get off on innocence much?” You backchat with a pained and hostile twinge.

“OI!” He shouts, pausing any movement for the time being, his voice making you jump in the process.

Good, that tormented look is back on your face.

The villain sucks on his teeth before slamming his hips into your ass, immediately nudging your cervix all the while branding your shoulders with burning handprints which evokes an agonised reaction from you.

A silent scream leaves your lips, the sensation so intense that no noise is enough to convey it.

“I thought I told you to watch the attitude, princess. Tch, stupid bitch.”

Fuck, you’re so tight around him that it’s hard to move. Inhaling through his teeth, Dabi attempts to thrust his twitching cock in and out of you. He succeeds, but only just. Looks like you’re growing accustomed without him having to touch your clit, how cute.

The pain is succumbing to the sheer pleasure, the feeling of his length brushing up and down your inner walls drowning it out. Whiney groans are erupting straight from your chest, playing like music to your captor’s ears. Every thrust is becoming more and more powerful, his cock dead set on finding release inside of you before anybody else ever can.

After a short while, your heated face is occasionally bumping into the wall as you’re bouncing on him, echoes of strained grunts and the sweetest moans mixing with each other and the sound of skin against skin.

“Sssshhhhit! You feel me? Yeah?” His gravelly questions pierce through your mind, every word he says so clear to you.

“Yes, yes! Hard-Harder!” You’re a blubbering mess now, letting yourself go, completely unhinged for your villain.

Your villain? THE villain. What’re you thinking?!

“Hahaha! You’re taking it like a bonafide slut! Turn around and I’ll go harder for you.” Dabi is loving this way too much.

Obeying orders, you turn around only to be picked up and manhandled once more, this time your back pushed into the wall with him between your legs. You’re left with an unbearable feeling of emptiness without his perfect dick stretching you out, but that feeling soon disappears when he instantly slams back into you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and scrunching your pretty face, you cry out, “Fucking hell!”

Dabi bites his lip at the sight before him and licks up a few of your stray tears, then finally presses his lips against yours. Your teeth clash sometimes with the movements but neither of you give a shit, you’re definitely too fucked. The villain soon slows his pace, still keeping the strength in his thrusts consistent, the slight decrease in speed allowing you to force your tongue into his mouth without biting it.

He sighs loudly and pleased, undeniably happy with your little performance of courage. He’s keeping you, he’s decided. The kiss is broken, and the pace is increased once more.

“I’m gonna cum—” Your captor warns.

“N-Not inside! Ah! Ah!” You attempt to yell through every bounce of your ass upon his strong thighs, sweet panic arising on your features.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asks menacingly, the muscles in his arms tensing up as they secure your legs. You can feel his cock jolting inside of your tight cunt. No no no!

“Please! N-ot insi-ide—!” Your nostrils are flaring, heart beating about a mile a second but he isn’t pulling out.

Dabi hears you, loud and clear. But damn if he isn’t going to make a show out of this. With his plumped lips open and teeth gritted, he closes his eyes and bows his eyebrows, pulling the perfect face of release just for you.

“Nngh— fuck, fuck…” the villain pants with his nose touching yours. As soon as his eyes open to be met with yours, filled with terror, excitement, lust… all such emotions that contradict with each other playing on your face, he just laughs at you dryly. Dumb, tiny virgin bitch.

“Whoops. Too late.”

Your wide eyes are boring into his narrowed ones as a mixture of his and your own cum droops to the ground beneath you, not a thought present inside your head. Shock numbing your emotions. Still, you attempt to weasel your way out of his hold, which gets you nowhere.

“You didn’t think we were finished, did you? Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to tell your hero buddies you’re on maternity leave... Hey, what'd you expect? A fuckin' apology?”

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#bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #my hero acedamia #bnha dabi #dabi #dark content #dabi smut #dabi headcanons #touya todoroki

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namfinessed · 3 months

Text

on repeat - m.yg.

genre: major angst, a bit of fluff at the end (timeloop! character death!) (7.2k)

summary: yoongi gets stuck in a vicious cycle where he can't seem to propose to you, nor save you from dying in his arms.

masterpost

he was going to propose to you.

that was the plan, the night was supposed to end with you in his arms, a dazzling smile on your face and his heart bursting at the seams with his love for you.

but yoongi is mute, rigid, a velvet box pressed against his thigh uncomfortably, a future with the ring inside it seemed impossible.

you sat, some distance away, a country away it seemed like to yoongi, you too were mute, and rigid but you were restless with anger that frankly, scared him.

the cab rumbled beneath his feet and his throat bobbed constantly, zayn malik’s ‘cruel’ buzzed over the air but it did nothing to ease the tension between you two.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if he could say anything.

he sees his hand which lay next to yours, he could reach out, touch it, apologize, pull you in, let you yell at him but instead, he retracts it into his lap and folds it in defeat.

your nails dig into the leather of the car seat, so intensely, so painfully, and your jaw stays tight.

“can we-“

“don’t.” your warning hits him in a wave, you never speak to him like that, and you never look at him as if you could walk away from everything you’ve built together but you do now, you do now and yoongi feels like he’s falling into an abyss of failure.

yoongi slumps into his seat, eyeing the seconds ticking by on his watch, anxiety building so largely in his chest that he has to sit up, to let it dissipate physically.

“this isn’t fair,” he utters finally and you scoff, chin trembling, “tough luck, yoongi.”

he shakes his head, “how are we going to sort this out if you’re being like this?”

“we? there’s no ‘we’ here, yoongi, you have to sort this out,” you spit it out, body lurching forward in defense and yoongi drowns once again, in shame, in guilt, in a vicious cocktail of emotions that only you make him feel.

“okay fine, how am i supposed to sort this out?” he turns to face you, just as the cab pulls to a stop at the curb, the tires screeching under him irritates yoongi, but he keeps looking at you.

and he notices something he didn’t before.

a single tear falls out of your eyes and travels down your jaw, so slowly that yoongi feels he could draw it as it moves.

you never cry, not at movies, not at songs, not at anniversaries, yoongi had hoped he would make you cry today but not this way; he was hoping to see you so overjoyed that tears leaked without your permission.

but not this, not this strange, broken, lost tear that gets quickly wiped away by you.

“figure it out.” you declare and step out of the car, slamming it shut in the process and yoongi falls back on his seat, stunned and mournful as the weeds of grief sow into his heart.

you never cry.

yoongi buttons his suit, a cold expression on his face as he follows you into the rousing club, the rousing club he owned, the rousing club where you performed as a singer, this was where you met, this was where your love grew, this was where yoongi knew would be perfect for proposing to you.

but as you stomped in your tallest heels in front of him, your dress flowing behind you in an ethereal way, yoongi felt like he’d gone back to the day when he saw your audition, you had looked out of this world, so out of his league, so painfully beautiful but his heart tugged him towards you, in a way that was out of his control.

and you had taken his heart in, caged it in your palms, and never set it free, yoongi had never wanted to be set free, but you were leaving the cage open now, and he didn’t know where to go.

he didn’t where he belonged, if it wasn’t next to you.

“sir, ma’m,” the bouncers greeted you two, you smiled so sweetly at them, asking them about their day and their meals, then as they all turned to him, your face went back to the grim, dangerous fury that yoongi could feel burning into him.

as yoongi made small talk, you disappeared into the club, into the crowd of people, and yoongi, once again, tracked you down and followed you.

today was a big day for his club, “midas and tunes”, it was the grand re-opening after a successful year, and some huge renovations, he had been running around for months like a madman to prepare for this night, both the proposal and the re-opening, and a lot of yoongi’s stress was supposed to alleviate at the end of today.

but watching you, two feet away, not being able to touch you, or talk to you, just spiked his anxiety to the highest it’s ever been.

yoongi pushes through the people, half-heartedly greeting everyone on his way to you and you don’t look back, you march over to the side of the stage and he rushes to catch your wrist.

and as subtly as you could, you ripped it from his grip, throwing him a glare and say, “i’m going up there in one minute, i don’t want to hear a word from you.”

he’s had enough.

he lets out a groan of frustration, he wasn’t a saint, he wasn’t made of endless patience and god, he was trying but you were just, “you’re being so fucking difficult right now.” and your anger flares in your eyes, yoongi feels stupid for saying anything at all, the box in his pocket shakes its head at him.

“not another word, min yoongi.” you warn with your finger pointed at him to further punctuate your point, “go, be a good host and don’t you dare come back home tonight.”

with that, you change your face from a glare to the dazzling smile that yoongi loves, you walk onto the stage and wave at the group of people shining in the crowd.

yoongi purses his lips and works his way through the club, greeting, smiling, and exchanging niceties even as his feet wobble and his heart feels dry.

he watches you from the corner of his eyes, you glow on stage, your smile is perfect, your eyes are perfect, you are perfect, and you make it look so easy, going up in front of a couple of hundred people and talking to them with a confidence that no one could wreck with.

you were always this enigmatic, and yoongi had always felt he was less than you.

but he would never do anything to stand in the way of you and your light, he would always take the shadows so you could shine, which is why it makes it that much more difficult for him to hold onto you right at this moment.

he watched, proud eyes, sinking heart as you sang, each word so raw and rich that yoongi tunes out everything else around him.

your eyes flutter to him, he thinks it’ll be a vicious glare again, a snarl, anything to indicate your anger, but instead, your eyes soften around their edges, you lend him a ghost of a smile, a delicate moment passes between you two and yoongi smiles back at you.

you two would be okay, of course, you would be and if you kept smiling this way, yoongi would be on one knee by the end of tonight, and it would end exactly how he had dreamt it to.

but just as a bigger smile starts to grace your face, a loud bang from the back of the club startles yoongi, several loud bangs and clangs fill the air, people start screaming around him, pushing him in every direction to find the source of the noise and yoongi’s eyes rush to find you.

he starts pushing too, the air around him grows sparse, and his body keeps pulling him into the crowd when he’s trying to push against it.

his body grows cold when he hears the bang of a gun, the clutter of a bullet, the falling of a table, and screams.

so.

many.

screams.

they echo and bounce off his ears, some creep into his soul and stop his steps in fear.

but he pushes through, hurriedly, more frantically, because for fucks’ sake, he can’t see you, he can’t see your pretty eyes, your flowing dress, your tall heels, he can’t see you anywhere around him.

then, he stops.

yoongi falls.

to his knees.

the pain of the ground hitting his bones, shoots through him but his heart aches much more, it squeezes and squeezes at the sight in front of him.

a single bullet in the middle of your forehead.

your body on the ground.

no breathing, no movement, no sound.

just a single tear dripping at the tip of your nose.

yoongi crawls forward, eyes wide, skin riddled with terror, fresh terror that grabbed him by his throat, he gathers your body into his lap and taps your cheeks, taps your arms, taps your eyes, holds his ear to your nose, he calls out to you, he says your name once, twice, a billion times.

and he cries.

he holds your head to his chest and he cries so loudly, he can hear himself over the chaos, the banging, the clutter, his cries resonate and punctuate the air.

yoongi fiddles for the box in his pockets and blindly throws it across the room, it had no place in his world from today.

he had no place in his world from today.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi stirred, his entire body hurt, his head was pounding and he winced as he tried to open his heavy eyes but when he managed somehow to peel them open, he is greeted with the sight of a window.

a window in a cab.

he jolts awake, his body screams in protest as he whips his head around.

you.

you got shot, you bled out in his arms, yoongi cried to the heavens.

but you are here.

your dress is flowing around you.

yesterday’s dress.

there’s no blood on it, not even a wrinkle, it’s pristine, and it’s as ethereal as he remembers, yoongi’s eyes reach your face, you are looking at him tensely but today, you have a concerned frown along with your anger.

what was happening?

“you good?” you ask, tone reluctant and stiff and yoongi feels himself go pale, it feels strange to hear your voice after your blood washed him away, “what happened?” he gasps, so desperately, so lost, his hands curl on the leather as they try to reach you, but you only scoff at him.

“we just hit a speed bump, yoongi, don’t be such a drama queen.”

no.

he had every right to freak out.

he saw you die.

“ho-how are you?” he feels stupid as he asks, he feels even more stupid when you glance at him with an arched eyebrow, “i’m trying not to kill you, what about you?”

yoongi drops his head against his seat, you are speaking to him, you are here, you are alive and yoongi can now feel the same velvet box pressing against his thigh.

he had thrown it away; he had held your skin as it turned blue.

but the cab was the same as yesterday, same zayn song, same tinted windows, same driver, same everything.

even your anger was the same.

yoongi felt like he could explode.

maybe it was a bad dream, maybe yoongi had somehow conjured the worst of worst-case scenarios in the tense moments that followed up to this day.

and he sighs in relief, you’re alive, you’re all right, it was a bad dream and he still could fix things.

but he still felt uneasy, something in the pit of his stomach kept curling and unfurling, a forewarning or a simple case of nerves on a huge day, yoongi wasn’t sure, he didn’t feel brave enough to question it for too long.

he wordlessly followed you into the club and watched you take your place on the stage, he watched your flowing dress and long heels and laughed to himself about how differently things went in his dream.

you would probably kill him before you ever died.

“i’d like to welcome you all, with a full heart, for our grand re-opening,” you spoke so smoothly, your words echoing off yoongi’s dreams and he tried to shrug off the way his stomach kept churning.

just nerves.

he told himself again and again, he was going to propose for fucks’ sake, of course, he was going to feel a bit queasy.

but failing to ignore the spikes growing on his spine, he turned around to survey the crowd, to convince himself that this was all completely normal, and when he saw smiling faces, glasses of alcohol, and glittering lights, he turned back to you, shaking his head at himself.

he was overthinking it all, he just had to make things right by you and then get down on one knee, and sleep it off.

the lights descend on you and a tune fills the air.

you started singing, his senses get consumed by you in the same second your voice travels to him.

yoongi feels himself relax.

his shoulders fall away from his ears, his chest expands to take in more air and he straightens his posture, he sips his drink and pours all his attention to the light that makes you glow.

your eyes meet his.

his shoulders pick back up.

he knows this scene.

yoongi’s heart thundered in his chest.

wasn’t this how you looked at him before you died in his arms?

he rushes forward, mumbling apologies to the people he pushes as unease crawls through his every sense. yoongi’s hands thrust in front of him, an urgent fever almost turns him blind.

if something happens, he will never forgive himself.

he reaches where you stand, hands and palms towards you, heart beating in his ears and your eyes light up at his stance, your anger melts at his open arms and as you sing, your hand reaches out for his, and yoongi feels his heart slip at the adoration that coated your glistening eyes.

oh.

you have mistaken his intentions but yoongi will take just about anything from you right now.

he places his hands in yours, “i’ve got you,” he whispers to you, he doesn’t know why, and your eyes round in surprise, then soften again, and you mouth back, “i’ve got you too.”

if you think his behavior is strange, especially because yoongi is never affectionate publicly, you don’t say anything and yoongi feels all the more grateful for it.

after sticking around until the song almost finished, yoongi meekly finds his way back into the crowd, but his brow glistened with sweat and his hands felt clammy.

but the worst was over, you finished your song and you were still alive, nothing bad had happened.

he needed help.

“hey, you” your voice breaks him out of his head, he looks up to see your eyes filled with subdued anger, “wanna dance to this, big boy?”

zayn’s ‘cruel’ fills his ears once again, he used to love the song but now, it fills him with vicious deja-vu, nevertheless, yoongi lets you whisk him away and he tries to move with you, tries to match your steps, tries to match your smile but the song seems to mock him.

‘who do you love, who do you love?’

“i know i was being really mean to you,” you speak under the neon lights, he sees your lips move, and he feels the weight of your words but yoongi doesn’t listen, “we’ll sort this out, okay? we’ve been through worse, you just have to promise me that you will never invite them again.”

right.

the actual reason you were fighting.

yoongi feels his fear melt, and he lets it melt completely, “i know we will, besides, i have so much planned for us, you can’t leave me hanging in all that.” he rests his forehead on you as you let out a giggle and curl into him.

“what does that mean?”

the box in his trousers begged to be let out, yoongi smiled, he had nothing to be worried about, “it means that i have a question to ask you-“

bang!

he feels his world spin on his feet when the crash comes, the same crash from his dreams, the same crash that killed you, yoongi’s arms fall from you and his breath comes short, he turns to the source of the noise, eyes darting wildly in the air.

“yoongi!” your screams come from beside him, your hands grip his arms, and he winces as your nails dig into his shirt, but he’s panicked, he’s scared, and he needs to take down the people doing it.

he can’t let them get to you.

“yo-“

a ringing noise travels in his ear, he swears he heard a bullet before it, and as his eyes drag over to you, achingly, as slowly as he can because he fears he knows what he will see.

and yoongi falls to his knees again.

he wipes the single tear off your face before crumbling next to you.

yoongi could still feel the warmth of your blood seeping through his fingers, as he stirred from slumber, he felt his clothes stretch against leather and his eyes shot open.

the cab window stared back at him.

the neon lights of the city mocked him.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

the song pressed itself into his brain.

“no, no, no,” he gripped his hair in his hands as he leaned forward, this couldn’t be happening, not again.

“seriously, yoongi? i’m the one who is hurt and you want to act like the baby?” your razor-sharp eyes ground him, and he lurches forward to grab your hand.

you were real.

you were here.

but this time, yoongi knew it couldn’t have been a dream. it had felt too real, his pain had been too real and coincidence didn’t seem like a strong enough explanation.

“what are you doing, yoongi?” you hiss and bat his hand away, looking out the window with a stone-cold expression.

but yoongi had his own problems.

he had to ignore the sting in his heart to figure out what the fuck was happening with his life.

why was it this cab?

why was it this song?

and why did you always die at the end?

yoongi could only think of one explanation, a burglary gone wrong, because everyone else was a respected guest, thoroughly vetted and yoongi knew all of them personally, none of them would want to hurt you.

but yoongi thinks back to how acutely he felt the box in his pocket, how it pressed into him more whenever you…well, whenever you died.

“i have to do this here,” he whispers to himself, hands already reaching out to rip the box out of his pocket, he faces you and yoongi tries not to feel hurt over the anger still flashing in your eyes.

“i know this isn’t a good time, but i need to do this, please look at me,” yoongi begs you, and he never begged anyone for anything, which is what makes you turn to look at him.

a gasp leaves your lips the second you notice the box in his palm, “yoongi, oh my god,” you say, breathlessly, in adoration and fear, and yoongi wishes he could’ve done this differently, “i know we’re fighting and i know you’re upset with me but even if you are, even if we aren’t always good, i want to be with you and no one else, for the rest of my life.”

yoongi’s throat feels dry, his heart doesn’t sing even if he means his words, he desperately wishes he was doing this differently but he knows no way out, he didn’t want to wake up to your angry face, he didn’t want to see you die anymore, he didn’t want to be in this cab anymore.

“aw, yoongi,” at least, it seems that you find it sentimental, your eyes glisten with unshed tears, any anger is dissipated from your face, and yoongi’s heart cheers.

he did it.

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you too,” you hum happily, a single tear escapes your eyes as you watch him and his fingers reach out for your hand, he is finally feeling the buzz and excitement that comes with proposing.

yoongi was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

bang!

yoongi’s heart sinks, the ring dangles and falls off from his grip, and the cab swerves unnaturally to the divider in the road.

it was the tire, yoongi knew it was from the way the cab lost control.

“yoongi!” your scream reaches him and yoongi only watches as blinding lights fall from behind you and he can only watch as they crash into your side of the cab, throwing the vehicle into the middle of the street.

and he closes his eyes, he doesn’t turn your way, he refuses to look at your hand that falls on his lap, he ignores the blood dripping on his trousers.

he lets the ring fall onto the floor of the cab.

leather.

box.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

that damn song.

this time, yoongi didn’t bother being surprised or confused, he opened his eyes, and the window came into his view, he sighed, he looked to his side, he saw your simmering eyes settled in a scowl, he sighed, he felt the box in his pocket, he sighed.

if he was going to do this a million times, he figured that he might as well get somewhere with you.

“i’m sorry for inviting your family,” he starts and you scoff at him, but he continues, he was going to live this day again and again until the universe was done playing with him apparently, yoongi had nothing to lose. “i shouldn’t have tried to act like some hero, reuniting you guys, i should’ve understood why you hated them so much and stayed out of your way.”

your posture visibly relaxes, your shoulders drop, your scowl melts by a little, and you turn to him with tears in your eyes, “i just don’t understand why you thought it was a good idea, they are people who have betrayed me so many times yoongi, i didn’t want to see their faces ever.”

yoongi had thought that, as much as you fought with your family, you would still want them around for his proposal, he had spent weeks meticulously planning things with them, but he should’ve known you better, he should’ve tried to understand that he couldn’t do things just because he thought it would turn out well for you.

and yoongi feels terrible, “let’s just say, i had something big planned for today.” his palms fold on his lap and his head drops to the seat, he feels exhausted, he feels so far and close to how he wanted tonight to end.

he doesn’t answer you when you ask him what it was, he doesn’t say anything at all even when his club comes into view, he walks straight into it and grabs a glass of whiskey for himself.

god knows that he’s earned it.

“yoongi, i’m up in two minutes,” you approach him at the bar, eyes wide with concern, “good luck, you’re going to kill it.” he taps your shoulder, then winces at his choice of words and your eyebrows twist in confusion.

“are you still angry?” yoongi turns away at your question, he was acting like an asshole but if you were going to die again, yoongi didn’t want to see another second of it, he couldn’t see another second of it without going completely insane, “i’m not, just nerves, don’t worry about it.” he knows you can sense how half-hearted his tone is but you only eye him warily once before leaving his side.

yoongi lets his head fall onto the cool glass of the bar countertop, he hears your delicate voice swimming in the air and he buries himself further into the glass.

“oh, hyung!” yoongi frowns, no one calls him that.

he slowly looks up to see your brother, steve, the one he invited, the one you hated, “oh hey man, how’s it going?” yoongi gives him a one-arm hug and proceeds to nurse his drink again.

“all good, the club’s beautiful, no wonder you picked this for the proposal,” steve looks fine, yoongi wonders why you hate him, “well, don’t get too excited about the proposal.”

“if your sister stops dying for two minutes, i would have a chance at that,” his tone is bitter but yoongi’s chest aches, is this how it’s going to be? is he going to watch you die a million more times before he ever gets to call you, his wife?

“huh?”

“don’t worry about it, rough day.” he waves your brother off, hoping that he will leave yoongi alone but steve lingers, “so hyung,” yoongi didn’t have the energy to correct him that he in fact, wasn’t his hyung.

“i’m between jobs right now, the club looks terrific, you think you can hook me with something?” steve says so casually, that yoongi has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his soon-to-be brother-in-law.

his brother-in-law had no skills in subtlety and suddenly, yoongi started seeing why you might hate your family.

yoongi’s met this guy for two minutes and he’s already asking for a job, and he’s heard you complain about how your family keeps asking you for everything, he feels even more terrible for inviting them.

“i’ll look into it.” his words hold no promise but your brother brightens up immediately, taking a seat next to yoongi and beaming at him, yoongi politely smiles and focuses on his drink.

“but seriously hyung, why her?”

“i’m sorry?”

“oh come on hyung, you know as much as i do, that you can do way better than my sister,” yoongi looks at steve in disbelief, why was your brother talking shit about his own sister, especially on the night of her proposal?

“she’s heartless hyung, she will chew you up and leave you with nothing, trust me our entire family has experienced it.” yoongi’s grip around his glass tightens, and he hears the cracks that threaten to break it, he wished it was steve’s neck instead.

“get out.”

“what?”

“i said, get the fuck out of my club before i get you kicked out.”

“hyung, i’m only trying to protect you from her, she’s insane,” and yoongi loses it completely, “why are you still standing and speaking to me? i told you to get out.”

“what’s going on?” you step into the bar with your arms across your chest, you already look tired, “your brother was just leaving, the exit’s that way.” yoongi pointed out for steve and sat back down.

steve goes red in the face, his breaths leave him rushed and he is visibly angry.

yoongi wished he gave a singular fuck about him.

“you’re going to let this man be your husband, after how he talked to your brother?” steve turns to you and you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what husband are you talking about, steve?”

wow.

there went yoongi’s plan of a surprise proposal.

“ask him,” steve was doing this intentionally, yoongi knew the second he saw the glint pass his eyes, he was enjoying ruining your proposal, “he’s speaking bullshit, which is why i asked him to leave, and he still hasn’t left for some reason.” yoongi shrugs, trying to play it cool, trying to act as if a box wasn’t pressing into his thighs.

“no, ask him what it is in his pocket. ask him!” steve points wildly at yoongi, his anger flaring even more and yoongi’s eyebrows line with sweat, you look at him in confusion, he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“stop it right now, steve.” yoongi tries to maintain his cool.

“just because i asked you for a job, doesn’t already make you the boss of me, i hope you and her rot together,” he hisses out at yoongi.

“you asked yoongi for a job?”

shit.

yoongi tenses up once again, because you sound scalded, he turns immediately, abandoning his drink and peace.

you are holding back tears as you stare pointedly at your brother.

steve goes red again, “well, my useless sister wasn’t doing anything for me, so i thought i’d at least try with her husband.” he scoffs and yoongi’s never wanted to punch someone so badly.

your face flashes with hurt and your lips turn down, you turn to stare at yoongi with venom dripping from your eyes, as if to tell him, ‘see, this is why i hate them.’

you didn’t have to signal that twice, yoongi’s understood how terrible your family is, based on the very short interaction with your brother.

“okay, play time’s over, follow me quietly or my bouncers will carry you out,” yoongi sinks from his seat and glares at steve until his shoulders fall and his feet line up with yoongi’s.

“you’re the most selfish person i know, you don’t deserve any of this,” steve growls at you, and yoongi grabs the jacket of his suit, pulling him away from you, “shut up, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t speak another word.”

“i’m selfish? after everything i’ve done for you, i’m the selfish one?” you half-scream at steve, with trembling hands and a single tear falling out of your eyes.

yoongi’s seen this scene before, a hurtle of recognition tumbles over him as he finally notices what exactly happens whenever a tear falls from your eyes.

you die and he fails to save you, every single time that a tear touches your chin.

“without your husband, you would be nothing,” steve points his finger at you, and your face twists in annoyance, “why does he keep saying husband?”

“yeah hyung, why do i keep saying husband?” steve turns to yoongi with his arms crossed, a smug smile dancing on his lips and yoongi’s mind goes blank.

he doesn’t say a word.

he doesn’t look up to see you.

he just wanted to do this one night right, and it was all falling on him again.

“yoongi?” you look at him expectantly, he looks away, he swallows the lump in his throat and he wants to run away.

“let me help you, hyung,” steve steps forward and yoongi doesn’t know why he’s saying that, he doesn’t process a word until steve shoves his hand into yoongi’s pocket and pulls out the velvet box that hasn’t left him alone.

your mouth falls open as the action catches the attention of everyone in the room, collective gasps, squeals, and whispers cloud yoongi’s mind as he tries to look for your reaction in all this.

there’s no joy on your face, no excitement, just a wide eye and dropped jaw staring back at him.

he feels several knives twist themselves into his chest and it takes everything in him to not fall on the floor and curl himself up.

he never wanted this, he never wanted to live through a night where you would reject him.

as people started crowding, yoongi’s throat tightened, his entire heart was dangling from steve’s fingers and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

but he looked at you, with some faded hope that you would wake yourself up and give him your heart too.

“come here,” your whisper barely registers to him, your touch barely dawns on him as you drag him away from the crowd.

it’s only when a gust of cold wind breaks on his face that he looks up to see that you have dragged him to the patio.

“yoongi, please look at me.”

he swallows another sob down his throat.

“it’s okay, i understand why you would say no, i fucked the whole thing up,” he runs a hand through his hair, his head refused to pick itself up, and your whispers of ‘no, no, no’ reach him slowly.

“it’s not like that,” your hands come into his view before they cup his jaw and force him to look at you, yoongi barely holds himself together as your fingers run circles on his cheeks, “i just wish,” you sigh, hands coming around his neck and resting your forehead on his chest.

yoongi’s hands twitch beside his body, “what do you wish for?” and he almost doesn’t recognize his voice, he sounds so weak, so desperate, but yoongi couldn’t hide it, it was exactly how he felt.

“i just wish it was us,” you start, yoongi holds his breath, “and no one else.”

“that’s all?”

“that’s all, yoongi” you let out a small laugh into his chest before picking yourself up and staring at him with all the love in the world.

he feels his worries run away like steam from a hot plate of food.

bang!

yoongi’s arms lurch out to you, pulling you to him as his breath quickens.

that fucking noise.

you both watched with wide eyes as people tumbled out of the club, screaming, falling, running, and looking back in fear. yoongi grabs your hand and runs, he runs with heavy steps and pulls you with him, he desperately looks back every two seconds as more and more people file out.

“yoongi!” your nails barely hold onto his jacket and he feels your grip loosen.

then, he doesn’t feel it at all.

yoongi stops running, he rushes back as people push him out of the way, as people shove his shoulder, step on his feet, and elbow him in the stomach, he winces and groans but he doesn’t stop looking for you in the crowd.

he screams your name, searches for your dress, searches for your heels, searches for your nails but nothing comes into view.

yoongi feels the acid rush into his mouth, he feels the choking that suffocates his chest and throat, and he feels his knees weaken at the thought of his nightmare repeating again.

and he realizes he can’t do anything at all to stop it.

the night ends when the crowd ends, when the police cars show up, when they find your body on the floor and put it into a body bag, and when they explain to yoongi that it was because of a stampede and it couldn’t have been in his control.

yoongi laughs at them.

nothing had ever been in his control.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi didn’t open his eyes.

he knew what came next.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

his eyes scrunch in pain as your voice floats in his head, he remembers the promise in your eyes, the tremble of your fingers as they snaked around his neck and he was so close this time, so fucking close but he was here again, and you were here too.

again.

the tires under the car screech and pull over.

“yoongi, we need to go.” your stern voice pulls him back in, and he opens his eyes, dazed, he stares at the cab window with the weight of a thousand boulders on his shoulders.

he doesn’t know how to fix this; he doesn’t know how to save you and yoongi is so close to just letting the nights blend into each other until he dies with you.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

but you.

you deserved more than a resigned fate, you deserved more than a man who didn’t know how to save you, hell you deserved a man who knew what you wanted.

“yoongi, are you listening to me? we’re here,” you say once again and yoongi stares at his club, which shines so brightly in the night and he doesn’t make a single move to get out, even as you huff in annoyance.

here.

here lay so many nights.

here lay so many of your bodies.

then yoongi straightens up.

here.

here lay so many of your bodies.

here was the problem.

“we need to go back,” he whispers to no one, his nerves catch fire as the craziest or maybe not-crazy-at-all plan he’s ever come up with starts burning in his mind, he looks at you, your angry eyes, and scrunched-up fists, and reaches out for them.

“do you trust me?” he asks hastily, fingers gripping your fists and you frown at him, “what are you going on about?”

“do you trust me? please tell me,” maybe it was the tears gathering in his eyes, or his hands that begged you to understand but you eventually gave him a hesitant nod.

with your confirmation, yoongi leans over his seat and speaks quickly “driver, please take us back to our place, we will pay you extra,” and your frown grows deeper as the cab hits a u-turn.

“yoongi, our guests will be arriving, what the fuck are you doing?”

“please, just trust me.”

and again, his voice shakes your anger, your stance, you sink back into the seat without a word.

yoongi feels his heart race as your home comes into view, his fingers instinctively reach out for the box in his pocket, but it doesn’t terrify him anymore, he feels the texture of it, he imagines the future in it and he hopes to all the powers in the world that this works out.

he pays the driver, waits for you to step out, and gently tugs you along with him to your home, your safe place, a space that was always for you two.

and yoongi’s lips twitch, they threaten to break out a large smile, one that would give him away, one that would ruin his plans but they’ve been ruined so many times already, what’s one more time?

he removes his hand from yours as you reach your living room and paces forward, bringing out a candle, shutting down some lights and you watch with your arms crossed, your lower lip caught between your teeth in an anxious action and you grow more confused by the minute.

he switches the last remaining light off and you see nothing.

“yoongi, what is going on?” you whine into the darkness, trying to place his figure with his footsteps, your foot taps repeatedly as you zero into the sounds around you.

then, light falls through, a soft, warm light from the candle you bought for yoongi.

and yoongi comes into the light, just as soft, just as warm, on one knee, a nervous twitch in his eyebrows as his hands shake in front of him.

there’s a ring in his hands, a shine that dims all the other light in the room except yoongi who remains the most radiant.

your jaw starts to tremble as you slowly take in yoongi’s smile, which is nervous but so present.

“love, i should’ve known you,” he starts, and you’re stepping forward, “i should’ve known that you wouldn’t want anyone else to see this, to witness us at this moment,” his voice scratches with emotion and you’re stepping forward again, “but now i do, and i only have one thing to say,” he takes in a shaky breath and the toe of your heels grazes his leather shoes, “i love you, and there’s not a person, not a disaster, not enough warnings, nothing can ever stop me from trying to get to you.”

you frown a bit; you assume he means everything you’ve been through together in your relationship and your heart drowns in itself.

“i love you and i’ll never stop loving you, i promise to spend the rest of my life being yours,” your chin shakes furiously as you try to hold your tears back, “as long as you are mine.”

“what do you say, do you want to make me the happiest man alive?” yoongi’s eyes glisten, and his mind flashes with images of your body laying still through the many nights he tried to save you but he pushes them away, you’re here right now, you’re here and he has one more chance to keep you safe.

“oh, yoongi,” you sigh and fall into his arms, onto the ground, and grip his body so tightly, that fresh tears gather in his eyes, you’re here, and yoongi’s here, and somehow, the night has taken a better turn than he ever expected.

as he looks around the house you’ve built together, your candle burning away and leaving the sweetest scent in the air, and there are no neon lights, there are no shitty family members, there is no one and nothing at all, it’s just you and him and yoongi hopes that he will never have to go back to those nights again.

“i’ll always be yours,” you sniff and rub your nose into his cheek, “darling i love you too but let me get this ring on you,” you laugh and nod, pushing away to let him slip the delicate, shiny band onto your finger.

“there you go,” he holds onto your finger and pulls you back into his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck and you hum in pure happiness.

and both of you melt onto the floor, the warm light falls on you and yoongi’s heartbeat is in your ears when he asks, “do you like it?”

“i love it.” a single tear slips from your eyes.

yoongi’s smile falls.

a hand on his chest stirs him awake, yoongi’s eyes shoot open, his head twisting from side to side to see his surroundings.

his hands touch and feel the soft sheets covering his body and he looks to his right, it covers your body too and yoongi shakes his head at himself, a low laugh escaping him.

he stands up, groaning as he stretches his body and looks at your peaceful face.

yoongi lets his smile grow exponentially, walking over to push the curtains away and open into his balcony. he takes a deep breath as he leans over the railing and the scent of everything hits him, dulling his senses into a mild buzz.

“hey, handsome” hands sneak up on his torso and a shimmer blinks back from your fingers as they wrap around him, “good morning, my wife,” yoongi reaches for your hands and gives each of your fingers a kiss, making you giggle and push your head into his back.

“technically, it’s fiancé.”

“i think i prefer wife already.” and you hum contently, “me too.”

it was a new day.

his endless nights had finally come to an end and he never felt more grateful, he doesn’t think he will ever be able to explain how it happened, he doesn’t think anyone will understand the turmoil and anguish he felt in the past few hours, he doesn’t even think there’s an explanation but yoongi likes to brush it away, he has you and he doesn’t need an explanation, he just wants to keep you safe forever.

but he still had one problem.

“darling, don’t take this the wrong way, but can i block steve?”

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stevesbipanic · 2 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 17: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost @yournowheregirl

It's weird, how trauma works. Eddie has become quite familiar with this since the spring break from hell. Like how he can have days he doesn't even think about it, no nightmares, nothing, but then the next day he can't even get out of bed because of it.

Days where he wakes up in a cold sweat, the feeling of bats still digging into him, others he just gets to wake up to see his sweet boyfriend's sleeping face.

There are triggers he doesn't even think about compared to the ones he can avoid. He knows that flickering lights and dogs at night will leave him reeling. He didn't expect to have the air swept out of him in the middle of a grocery store though.

He and Steve had gone to get ingredients to make Wayne his favourite dinner for his birthday. Today had even been a good day, woken up by soft kisses and a cup of coffee.

They were halfway through their shop, Steve had realised he forgot flour and had popped back a couple aisles leaving Eddie to get the pasta. Two kids had rushed past him, only about ten or so years old.

"Eddie!" One of them had screamed, chasing after the other. But Eddie didn't hear a young child, innocently running through the grocery store. Instead he could hear Dustin, cold air surrounding him, bats screeching. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. Dustin, Dustin was calling him and he couldn't help him, he was dying.

"Eddie?"

If Vecna ever returned let it be known no song could save him more than that voice.

"Stevie?" He choked out, he felt a hand gently take his, fingers soothing over his knuckles instead of bites.

The air was warmer, lights bright and white overhead instead of red lightning.

"You looked a little lost up there," Steve said tilting his head up to Eddie's own.

"Just for a minute, you found me though."

"Always will, Eds."

#love is guiding someone #out of anything #crowds or panic attacks #tw panic attack #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #tw ptsd

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https-genesis · 1 year

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deserving child | dad!jake x daughter!reader

Sypnosis; Whatever had your father done before you were born had nothing to do with you today, but Quaritch didn't care. Children or not, you were Jake's.

Contents; angst little comfort, typical avatar violence, drabble? extreme depictions of gore?? Jake's pov, no use of y/n,

Dictionary; sempul - dad/daddy, sa'nok - mother, tsurak - skimwing, kuru - queue, uturu - sanctuary

A/N; I hate this but anyway

Jake Sully. Failed life on Earth, dead brother. Paralyzed from the waist down, out of service. Sent to replace his brother on a military mission, Pandora. Falling for the forrest, the culture, the people... Neytiri. Even though he had taken everything from her, her sister, her father, her ikran, her people... Neytiri had faith. She fought with him. His beautiful mate... His children. His firstborn son, Neteyam, and his twin, you. Oh, how life had betrayed him. Or had he betrayed life? After all, he betrayed an entire race. Was it unfair? Had he done the good thing, or was he selfish?

Jake still remembers a quote from the Bible he had read years before his 20th birthday. Before his brother was killed on the field.

"For am I seeking the approval of man or of God? And if I am seeking the approval of man, will I still be a servant of grace?"

As Jake sat still onto the back of his tamed tsurak within the seas of the reefs, hundreds of vengeful Na'vi in the same position behind him, he thought back to fifteen years ago. He could've left with Quaritch. Be could've surrendered. Saved thousands of innocent lives and give his own. But he didn't. He chose to stay and fight, but for what?

He could clearly see your distressed faces kneeling and facing him on the Demon Ship. Quaritch and his men held you and your siblings tighly in place and the gun pressed to your temple that digged into your skin harshly.

Jake chose to stay and fight. It brought him here. His children about to get executed right in front of his helpless eyes, unable to do anything but to weep to himself like a coward.

The sound of Neytiri's distressed pleas in his ears made them ring, but he couldn't hear a single word.

Jake could see in his head the faded image of your brains splattered onto the pavement of the ship and for a brief moment he pondered if this was all a dream. It wasn't, however, you were still alive. The choice was his, he knew it well. Would Neytiri even forgive him? Would you? Would Tuk be able to pass her own Iknimaya without her father?

☆

The freezing cold metal pressed firmly against the side of your head burned like dry ice. You had seen your father use similar machinery on the field, but you had never seen it be pointed at someone else. Even less had you thought you'd be the one in this kind of situation. Quaritch had your kuru thigh in his unoccupied hand, pulling whenever your kneeling stance faltered. You could see the outline of Jake, Ronal and Tonowari from your place on the ship and the way your father's eyes drifted from you and your siblings to his weapon. Was he really considering letting himself get captured for you?

Whatever Jake was thinking was passing fast. He had no plan and you knew it. The simple look of despair on Tonowari's face told you everything. You knew not to scream out because the Avatar had warned you when your brother tried.

"One noise and I'll shoot ya', kid."

Kid. You were just a kid. Your brother and sister were just kids. And Jake stared at you like it would be the last time he'd ever do. It was ironic, really. You came to Awa'atlu seeking uturu and had to end up murdering the entirety of its residents.

Jake felt the cold breeze against his damp skin, the breathlessness of Ronal on his right. His children are about to die. You, their big sister, dying to protect them. His babygirl. The one that lit up his life when he felt he was no Olo'eyktan, no Toruk Makto.

Right. Toruk Makto. Jake is Toruk Makto. The sixth rider of Last Shadow, the one who brought the clans victory against the Sky People. He killed Quaritch once. Can he really do it twice?

It's strange to think about it now, but in this situation he wishes he was more of a father and less of a marine. Lo'ak would never forgive him. The way he treated his children like soldiers... The pain he brought upon Neytiri and the people.

Quaritch's voice brings him back.

"Clock's ticking, colonel. What's it gonna be?"

The hand that rested on his gun lowered and Jake instructed his tsurak to swim forward slowly. He doesn't want to die, but he was ready to give his life up for you.

Quaritch did too.

Payakan thought otherwise. The large beast had felt Lo'ak's anger throughout their bond. Payakan had forgotten all about friendship, but Lo'ak had brought him a sense of serenity he had just about never felt before. Seeing red as he threw itself onto the ship, Jake saw the opportunity.

should I do a part two? seems opportunistic tbh

#x reader #avatar #avatar twow #avatar twow x reader #avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #platonic sullys x reader

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inkykodo · 11 months

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Obedience and Punishment

Warning: This smut is intended for AMAB readers, this smut also contains Rough sex, Degrading, Cock warming, Breeding kink Miguel and a few other kinks I don't even know the name of but I'm sure its in there so BE ADVISED!!

Word Count 2.7k words

Another Dom!Miguel x sub!Male reader cus why not lol

During an intense chase for Miles Morales, You and the rest of the spider people chase after him. Miguel sends out orders to catch him by any means and by all costs. You lurk by the shadows and follow him, Miles thinks he's alone therefore he lets his guard down. it was easy pouncing on him and pinning him down. Miles looks frightened and stressed. Taking pity at the poor kid you decide to let him go. after all, he was just a teenager wanting to save his dad from dying. you also lost someone close when you were around his age and it took a long time to process that; let alone recover from it. wanting not to let the young boy be burdened of letting his dad die you chose to give him another chance.

When Miguel finds out what you did he was pissed. not in a way that he broods and puts his hands on his hips while he stays in his empty office. He was beyond angry, he was throwing shit around and yelling on the top of his lung. "GET ME (y/n), NOW!" He yells an order at the spider people, the tension in the room worsening as you enter his office. "Miguel? what's this? you're throwing a temper tantrum now?" Miguel stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns his head at you. "everyone out now." Miguel says in a cold and stern tone while the rest of the spider people leave immediately. "What is it now Miguel?" You say in an unamused and deadpanned manner while crossing your arms. "you let Miles Morales go didn't you?" Miguel's eyes were bloodshot and his veins were at the verge of popping.

His voice was deep and intimidating yet controlled and calm. the way he speaks slowly approaches you in a calm manner makes your skin crawl as his talons slowly flex while awaiting your answer. "He was just a kid Miguel he-" Miguel cuts you off mid sentence as he violently lunges at you and slams you to the ground, his weight crushing your whole body, the mass of his very muscle directly pressing directly against your tiny frame. "Don't be mad at me Miguel! Miles is just a kid!" Miguel growls and slams you again with such force it felt like a whole ton was dropped on you. making you wince in pain "agh!" You let out a heavy grunt as Miguel's arm slowly crushes your chest.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do," Miguel snarls, his eyes practically glowing with unbridled rage. "Miles is an anomaly, and he deserves to be contained. And you, you're just as bad for aiding in his escape."

He looms over you, his breath hot and heavy against your face. You can practically feel the heat emanating from his body.

"I won't let you go and risk him escaping again," he says, grabbing hold of your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Maybe if you had been loyal to me instead of helping an anomaly, we could have avoided this." Miguel's talons dig into your bare skin. it was painful but he didn't care, he only wanted to punish you hard enough you wont even think twice when he asks you to do something.

"Miles is just a kid Miguel! for fuck's sake give him a break! knowing that he's not even supposed to be a spider man and his dad might die is enough punishment for him!" You defend Miles Morales with all your strength, your hand gripping Miguel's strong and firm arms trying to prevent him from squishing you completely. "Shut your damn mouth." Miguel spat bitterly, he ties your hands up and shoots a spider web at your mouth silencing you and muffling your tiny voice. You squirm and struggle but Miguel's organic silk is too strong. Miguel chuckles as he gets up and watches you shift on the floor like a bug that's been tipped on its back. "Traitors need to be taught a lesson" Miguel's lips curl into a devious grin, he stares you down; his towering stature making you look like a speck of dust against him. As Miguel eyes your body down his eyes widen and he places a finger on his chin as if an idea popped into his head. Miguel grabs you by your waist effortlessly and places you down by this desk, your chest pressed against the wooden table; your lower body exposed while your legs and arms are bound. Miguel smacks your ass which induces a muffled moan from you, Miguel watches as your plump ass jiggles in front of him. He grabs a handful of your ass, his talons ripping apart your suit revealing your bare ass to him.

A smirk tugged at his face as he sees your rear in front of him, his eyes that was once fueled with rage now turned into one that resembles lust and desire. You try to kick him off but your efforts were futile as he dodges it with ease. he grabs your legs and spreads them. your entrance reveals itself as he forces your legs wide open. "You're quite the fighter," he said, his voice low and menacing. "But you're no match for me." Miguel's chuckle echoes through the room, deep and husky just enough to send shivers down your spine. He grabs your waist and turns you on your back. he removes the webs on your feet with ease and puts your thighs on his shoulders. "But you know what?" he murmured, his voice almost intimate. "I like a challenge." He places soft kisses against your thigh, his fangs grazing against your skin. His sharp canines threatening to pierce and cut your skin. Miguel's hands roams your sensitive body, feeling every curve and slopes of your smooth skin; Miguel suddenly presses his knee against your ass and balls making you squirm and making your cock twitch "mmmph! mm!" you say muffled with the spiderweb still on you mouth. You stare daggers at Miguel but that didn't stop him, he wanted to go even further

Miguel chuckled darkly as he felt you squirming beneath him, his body pressing even harder against yours.

"Your body betrays you," he murmured, his hands roaming even lower. "You might be fighting me now, but your cock is already hard and ready for me."

He dug his knee even harder into your backside, making you squirm even more. He loved the feeling of power it gave him, knowing that he had you completely at his mercy.

"But don't worry," he continued, his lips ghosting over your ear once again. "I'll take care of you. I'll make you feel things you can't even imagine. I'll teach you a lesson you will never forget." Miguel leans dangerously close against your neck, his fangs protruded and visible; He opens his mouth as if to bite you, you squirm and shake in fear as you watch his fangs prick your skin but instead he licks your neck, tasting your supple skin. The sensation of his warm tongue on your neck makes you tremble in relief. Miguel murmurs against your flushed complexion, "all you need to know is that I'm in charge. And I'm not going to let anyone threaten the safety of this multiverse."

He pulls away from you, admiring the sight of your beaten and half-naked body. "You look so good like this," he says, his eyes dark with desire. "All helpless and at my mercy."

Without another word Miguel leans in to kiss you, the warm exchange of his tongue brushing against yours makes you moan in pleasure. As he grinds his hips against yours, you can feel the hard length of his bulge pressing against your own. He's big, much bigger than any man you've ever been with, and you can't help but feel both excited and scared at the same time. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his lips just inches away from yours. "You like feeling my cock pressed against yours, like this" He presses his cock harder against yours, his shaft squishing your balls; this sudden sensation makes you groan and squirm instantaneously.

He presses even harder against you, his body pinning you to the desk as he grinds his hips against yours. You can feel the emanating heat and hardness of his cock, and it's driving you mad with desire.

"Now, submit to me," he orders, his voice low and dangerous. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll spare you." You can feel your tense body start to slowly relax. You look into Miguel's eyes that looks like a furnace fueled by his desire to ravage you and swallow you whole. With that you nod slowly while breathing heavily through your nose.

Miguel smirks as he watches your body react to his touch, your cock hardening beneath the torn fabric of your suit.

"Good," he murmurs, his lips just inches away from yours.

With a flick of his wrist, he breaks the webbing holding your wrists up, allowing you to move your hands freely. He guides one of your hands down to his hard cock, urging you to touch him.

"Feel how hard I am?" he growls, his eyes locked with yours. "Feel how much I need you?"

He reaches down, teasing your cock through the fabric of your suit as he continues to grind his hips against you. "Now show me what you can do." your hands graze against his firm dick, Miguel's warm and veiny cock throbs against the palm of your hand. You move lower touching the tip covered by his foreskin, You slowly peel it back and reveal the slit of his member dripping with precum.

Miguel groans as he feels your hands wrap around his cock, his body shuddering with pleasure as you explore every inch of his erection. When your fingers finally reach his tip, he can't help but let out a low growl of desire.

As you peel back his foreskin, he hisses as the cool air hits the head of his cock, causing it to throb with anticipation. The sight of his precum dribbling down your fingers only serves to heighten his desire for you.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his hips bucking against your hand. "Don't tease me like that."

He takes your hand and guides it back to his cock, urging you to stroke him harder and faster. "That's it," he murmurs. "Just like that. Make me feel good." Miguel snarls while leaning his head back, He sighs and groans as you stroke it faster; you can feel his legs tense up knowing he's close to the edge, you abruptly stop deciding to play with him.

Miguel's eyes glint with anger as he feels you stop pumping his dick, his entire body tensing with frustration.

"Don't fucking test me," he growls, his hands grasping your shoulders tightly. "You don't want to know what happens when you make me angry."

He grabs a handful of your hair and tugs your head backward, his hips grinding against your hand. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your flesh.

"You're mine," he murmurs, his lips just inches away from your ear. "You always have been, and you always will be."

With a flick of his wrist, he tears your suit further, exposing even more of your bare skin. "And now, I'm going to take what's mine."

Miguel violently tears off the webbing from your mouth, but before you can speak his tongue invades your mouth. now your mouth is completely filled with his, the heated exchange felt like forever; your head started to feel hazy while Miguel kept constant pressure on your lips making sure you wont escape his grasp. finally, he pulls away a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. The room just got plenty hotter, you catch your breathe while wiping away the rope of saliva hanging from your lips. As if you just ran a marathon, your breathing became labored Miguel laughs in satisfaction, "that was just a kiss and you already look worked up" His eyes glued at your swollen lips and exposed body. "Prepare yourself boy, I wasn't even starting yet" Without wasting a second he presents his pulsating cock before you, urging you to start doing your job. "now... where were we?" Finally, you take him inside your warm mouth; your tongue swirls around his tip making him groan in pleasure, he grabs your head and plays with your hair as you suck him off.

Miguel's eyes roll back in pleasure as you take him into your mouth, your tongue exploring every inch of his aching shaft. He leans back against the desk, his hands gripping your hair tightly as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck," he groans, his hips bucking against your face as you feast on him. "You really know how to work me."

He moans again as you stroke his base, eliciting even more precum to spill from his cock. "More," he murmurs. "I need more."

With a low growl, he grips your head tightly, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. "That's it," he hisses. "More." You continue to take him inside your mouth. every inch of his girth occupying your throat; his length pressing against your tongue, the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat and his balls pressing against your chin.

He leans in, his lips just inches away from yours as he towers over you. "You think you're so strong," he hisses. "But you're nothing compared to me."

With that, he grabs you roughly, pulling you up from the floor as he presses his body against yours. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your flesh as he asserts his dominance over you. "And now," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to submit to me, whether you like it or not." He moves his hands lower, teasing your crotch through the torn fabric of your suit. "And I can feel how much you want me," he growls. "Don't even try to deny it."

With one swift motion he inserts his finger inside you soft anal walls, his long and rough fingers stretching you out one by one. with every digit making you more and more loose for him; he then slowly inserts his tip inside you; starting slow at first, with caution and care but shortly after that you can see his lips turn into a malicious grin as he rams his whole length inside with wild abandon. he leans down, trailing hot, wet kisses along your neck and chest as he prepares to take you to a level you have never been before. Taking the opportunity, Miguel sees you in a cock drunk state with that in mind he sees that as a chance to start establishing a rhythm. He moves faster and faster, his hips slamming into yours with a power that leaves you gasping. "And you're going to come for me," he hisses. "You're going to come so hard, you won't even know your own name." Miguel focuses his attention to your hard and dripping cock, he slowly starts to stroke it with the same pace as his thrusting. Your body quivers and shakes with pleasure as Miguel over stimulates you; without another second you start to feel something erupting from your core. "yeah... that's it lose control" Miguel continues to pound your poor and beaten up rear, his thrusts now getting sloppier but rougher making sure to reach the deepest part of your sensitive spots.

"Miguel ah-" you try to formulate words but before doing so you finally reach your peak and orgasm. Your whole body quickly tenses up along with your soft anal walls squeezing down on Miguel's dick; you tilt your head back and let out the most ear splitting moan. "Mmm... that's it fuck-" With one final thrust Miguel buries his dick inside you as deep and as far as possible making sure your guts would be painted in his thick white-hot cream. Miguel doesn't pull out just yet, he leaves his cock inside you to make sure your guts remember him the next time you decide to be disloyal to your leader. "look at you, already on the brink of passing out" Miguel grabs your throat and starts to slowly thrust again, the seed in your gut slowly spilling out as his huge dick pushes everything out. "We're not done just yet" Miguel's deep and husky voice resonating fear and anticipation within your heart as he positions your legs above your head and starts to pound and blow the living shit out of your ass. You know this wont be the last time he treats you like this, his hard and rough touches scorches your mind as he fucks you deep into the night without any signs of stopping.

#miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara x reader #male reader smut #miguel o'hara #bottom male reader #spiderman 2099

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cobwebs-in-autumn · 10 days

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Hush

Based on an ask I sent to @ceilidho

A bang. The smash of skin on glass as the grease ridden boy he grasped squealing like some dying pig, begging for his life, for help, pounding on your door pleadingly. Calling out “Please! Help me! PLEASE!” like any person in the world could save him from Ghost’s clutches. And even if they could, he was already a goner. The knife in his back coming out all the way only to slam back into the hilt just a few centimeters away. Then again, and again, and again. Ghost’s eyes on you the entire time, obliviously cleaning up your kitchen.

A sweet bunny, nibbling at the petals of some flower and never seeing the wolf creeping up behind you, jaw open and teeth bared. Ready to snatch up an easy kill.

Simon’s breathing picked up, blunt nails digging into the pale hip of the boy in front of him, carving deep crescent marks into his flesh and making it bleed, cock twitching to fullness against the admittedly plump ass of the other man.

He wondered if your ass felt as soft, as plush. How it would feel to slide his cock between your cheeks before prying them apart with blood covered hands and spitting on your winking hole. Would you beg for more? Or beg for him to stop?

Would you squeal and whine when he fucked that tight little hole the same way he was using his knife on this whimpering boy? His pace changed suddenly, harder thrusts being traded for something a bit slower, almost teasing. Imagining you sweaty and pliant beneath him, mouth wide open and practically begging for him to spit in it.

Good girl. Obedient girl. You’d be so good for him, wouldn’t you? Suck his blood stained fingers clean after a long day at work then spread your legs for him to fit himself between? You’d probably even enjoy being walked around on a leash like a dog, crawling after him with your tongue out and hips wiggling.

Good. Girl.

His fly dampened with his spend as he creamed his pants to the mental image, ducking his head and panting into the chestnut locks of the now cold body in front of him, eyes focused only on you.

#call of duty #cod #cobweb writes #cw: murder #cw: stalking #Dead dove #dead dove do not eat #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Hush!Au

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ghoulie-67-baby · 3 months

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Tally- Doctor Who.

Summary: You’re running from the silence. You’ve been separated from the doctor and the Ponds and life seems to be slowly coming to an end. What if the madman doesn’t come to save you?

Warnings: Fear, pain, mentions of death, dehydration, exhaustion, pet names, mentions of hallucinations, crying.

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x GN!reader. (Platonic or otherwise.)

Word count: 1,151.

The rushing of blood echoed in my ears and my limbs ached with exhaustion. I had been running for god knows how long and I just seemed to get more lost. I allowed myself a break, falling to my knees in the fine, desert sand, chest heaving as I caught my breath. Dizzying pain ripped through my ribs from the stitch I had; I knew I couldn't stop for long. I didn't know what I was running from, but the fear that had acclimated forced me to run. Whatever it was, my body was in fight or flight and my senses told me it was something life-threatening.

An assortment of tally marks stained my skin, and though I knew I was the one who put them there, I couldn't remember why and that chilled me to the bone. The marker pen in my pocket seemed to dig into my flesh as my ears caught a gurgling sound behind me. My head turned slowly to face the noise as my hand grappled to pull the pen from my jeans as the creature came into view. My body felt as though it was sinking into the ground as I scrambled against the ground.

The wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere as it lumbered closer to me, kicking sand into the air around us. I groaned in pain as it blew into my eyes, blinking furiously.

My mind felt fuzzy as the sand finally cleared and I sat up, shaking my head to clear it before standing. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, but I didn't understand why. Fresh markings littered my skin and I stared at them, questions and fears rolling around in my head. My eyes watered as I scraped through my mind to work out what was happening but all I could work out was I was terrified and whatever I was terrified of was causing me to lose my memory.

I let out a few sobs as I fought off my panic before huffing out a long sigh. Now wasn't the time to break down, now was the time I needed to run and find someone who knew what was happening. I had to keep moving. I was in a desert with no food or water and was constantly moving. I wasn't stupid, I knew I had days to live in this condition and I didn't know how long I had been running for.

In the past hour, I had gained a total of 11 extra tallies despite the empty desert around me. My legs were barely holding me up, knees trembling with exertion but I forced myself to keep going. I longed for the wheezing of that beautiful blue box to fill the dry air, desperate to feel the cold metal of her interior on my scorched flesh. And that madman's voice to just tell me everything was okay, that he had fixed everything and I was safe but I had slowed to a stumble.

I didn't have the energy to run anymore and soon I would collapse, the sand would cover me and I would be forgotten to the world. There was no TARDIS on the horizon, no Doctor to save me and no Ponds to make me feel better.

Precious tears streamed down my face as my body gasped for breath, pain flaring through my body as my knees buckled beneath me. I didn't want to die, not like this and not in such a beautifully dangerous place but as hope drained from my body, I was slowly coming to terms with it.

"Y/N!" My head snapped up at the voice and my eyes zeroed in on the gorgeous blue monument ahead of me. "Don't give up, keep going," I scoffed at the hallucination of the Doctor, of course, it was him my dying brain would imagine. "You're nearly there now, Love." I clambered to my feet unsteadily, if I was going out then I might as well use every ounce of energy.

The sun glared into my eyes as I trudged along, feet slipping against mounds of sand. The TARDIS seemed to get closer and I had a horrible feeling that as soon as I reached her, I was going to die. She was like my light that people warned you not to walk into. So be it, I'd die happy if they were my afterlife.

"Nearly there, come on, you can do it." He coaxed me closer, holding open the door as I kicked up sand in my fight to reach him. I held my hand out towards the Timelord, his hallucination blurred by tears as I closed my eyes to welcome death.

But death never came. Instead, my hand was met with the calloused skin of another as fingers curled around my own. He was never a hallucination.

My eyes shot open as the hand pulled me forward, the familiar creaking of the TARDIS door behind me, as I all but fell into the police box and into waiting arms. The pen in my pocket clattered to the floor as I gripped the tweed jacket and buried my head against the time lord.

"I know, you're safe, Love, just breathe." My sobs echoed through the console as my body became overwhelmed with relief and pain, dragging me through a tidal wave of emotion.

I gasped as we sunk to the floor; pain, exhaustion, confusion, fear, relief, and happiness all at once. The chest beneath my head vibrated as softly spoken words carried me through the feelings.

"I've got you, you're safe," he whispered into my ear, my gasps settling to shuddering breaths. "I'm so sorry Y/N," my body leant against him bonelessly as his hand smoothed over my hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into my back. "That's it, good job, Love." Silence followed as I clung to him, the ambience of the TARDIS comforting me. After a few minutes, I tilted my head to look into those beautifully old eyes and smiled weakly.

"Knew you'd find me," I whispered, ignoring my hoarse throat. "Cutting a bit short weren't you." I teased, his green eyes glazed with tears as he smiled down at me, wiping my cheeks gently.

"We had some trouble," he chuckled, "Someone didn't want us to find you but I couldn't let that slide now could I? Not for one of my favourite humans eh?" I forced my arms to wrap around him, gripping the back of his jacket in a hug and buried my head in his neck as the past few days caught up with me.

I was safe now, my body had clocked on to that fact. I couldn't help how my eyes slipped closed as I relaxed into the Timelord's grip, finally letting my body and mind shut down to recover from the ordeal.

He would always save me, no matter what.

#doctor who #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #eleven #dr who #amy pond #rory williams #doctor who x reader #doctor who x y/n #x reader #reader imagine #reader insert #doctor who imagine #doctor who fic

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

Text

A Night In Nice

Chapter One

Based on this ask and made into a separate post due to being two parts

Rated Explicit (for later on)

Ao3

Chapter Two

When you asked him to run away with you, you meant it wholeheartedly. If he didn't want to stay, you weren't going to force him to stay. You only want him to escape this place and start anew.

No one has ever looked out for him, maybe his father but that felt obligated rather than willing. Yet, on that fateful day, when the voice in his mind killed every miner and nearly killed him too, he took you up on that offer.

Now here he is in France, specifically in a town called Nice, with a woman he finds himself in love with. Unbelievable given his past, he thought he could never love anything outside of his greed and freedom. Yet, here he is fiddling with an engagement ring he saved up for.

Crazy. God, if this a dream and he laying dying in that damn cave then let him stay there slowly dying rather than wake up from this dream.

He quickly hides the ring in his pants when he hears you enter the house.

The home has a common layout, simple decorations, and a few personal touches, cozy and ours as you told him.

Norton works for an old man at his farm helping out and such. Good pay and no digging for coal. You work at the local bakery with a farmer's daughter.

“You're home early!” Cheerful and smiling brightly, Everything okay?” Going to the kitchen to set down the bag of bread in your arms.

“Uh, yeah,” Assisting you and looking at the bread now on the table, “Free bread day or something?”

“Heh, no! I made these for us! I know you like toasted bread for breakfast so…” You show him the misshapen bread, “I tried.”

You are… Kind to put it mildly.

When you first met him, it was after a brawl in which a few of the older miners jumped him for a single damn coin he got from payroll. He lost his coin, sure, but he made every single last one of them earn it. He was badly hurt and was carried into the infirmary with another guy.

At the time, you were the only female and a nurse on that mining site. The doctor left after not being paid, so technically you were the nurse and the head doctor. It wasn't easy for you, that is for sure given half these guys were scum.

Still, you did your job. With a smile too, for those deserving.

You fixed his nose, patched up his cuts, gave him something for the pain, and even got him something other than bread and turning milk. Soup for the soul, you called it, something you made because the chef there was a joke. It was mostly vegetables but it was something.

He was cold to you back then even when he was often your patient because of all the fighting. Norton didn't want friends, didn't care about anyone but himself, and he certainly didn't care to have some woman being nice to him. Bad enough you touched him when doing checkups and patching him up.

However, as much as he was an asshole, he wasn't fucking like these others. He ain't no saint but wasn't one to think just because you are the only woman there, means you are for the picking. He recalls that tussle (the man was drunk so it wasn't much of a fight), how grateful you were.

So grateful you baked him something as a thank you, a treat that was too sweet for him. He still ate it even though he complained about the sweetness.

You were, are, the brightest light in his life.

And it was dark… Becoming darker when the voice in his head started getting louder and louder.

The darkness nearly swallowed him whole.

Until you found him buried alive and willing to die.

God, he swears, the tears from your eyes seemed to never stop as you called out to him. Never did want to see that again.

“Norton, try this!” Preparing your ingredients to make a special pie you learned today! A shepherd's pie that is supposedly very filling and good! You seasoned the meat the night before and after setting up, you just finished cooking the meat.

You like this. Being a housewife. Though you are not married to him, you gave him the housewife treatment. Cooking, cleaning, cuddles (more like you being his weighted blanket).

Norton felt loved, knew he was loved, yet the darkness lurks in the shadows when he is alone with his thoughts as you sleep by his side.

While he sits in the kitchen simply enjoying your presence and the way you talk about anything and everything under the sun, he is playing with the ring in his pocket.

“Oh, hm, it needs more garlic.”

“It's fine.”

“No, no, sir-no-taste-outside-of-salt-and-pepper. Trust me on this.”

He shakes his head chuckling at you.

“She will leave you like all the others.”

He frowns as the voice mocks him.

“Poor flower thinks a domestic life in some other country will save you. We both know this is temporary.”

No, he likes this life!

“Being poor? You barely could afford her a ring! If we found that gold—”

“Norton?”

“Huh?” Not aware you are in front of him, “Need something?”

“You spaced out, hun.” Reaching to touch him though he shook his head. “If you need space, dinner will be done in an hour.” You understand, you show patience.

He stands up, tall and bulky, taking your hands and placing them on his face. His eyes close as feels your warmth. A gentle ‘thank you’ slips from his lips. You tell often he has no need to thank you but he does it anyway.

Rubbing circles on his cheeks before going back to cooking, you didn't want to pull away. You never do. He leaves the kitchen and you return to your task.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open and then closing.

The best ways he found to stay in the present are to touch the things in the house, somethings things that you have made in the past attempts of crafting, or to smell the one perfume you love. A reminder of the good things he has.

Clean shirts, new shoes, even his better breathing, the window he can open at any time to gaze out into the back of the house. The outside cats that lurk around the house (his fault truthfully he could not stand seeing the little guys starving) playing with the blanket they stole from the laundry line and you did not have the heart to take back.

It is a perfect life, a fairytale ending to a nightmare he was living, yet the voice is bitter and cruel with words that plague him when you are not in sight.

… If only that was the case completely…

Recently, you have been the topic the moment Norton decided he wants to marry you. Sure it is pretty unseemly to be living with a woman and not married to her. Sure he has not had sex with you but you gave him so much of your patience. The love you gave him so freely.

The ring he takes out of his pocket to examine weighs heavy, he is trying to think of how to bring it up— To ask you. The words simply escape him, his chest hurts and his throat closes.

Shit, this looks so easy in those plays he saw once as a kid. Broke into the theater to pickpocket some people, all to get his father some medicine.

The past.

All in the past.

The knock on the door drew away the shadows encroaching ready to ensnare him.

“Dinner is ready.”

#reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #anon ask #idv prospector #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv norton #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #norton campbell x you

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josephquinnswhore · 9 months

Text

All It Takes

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: A close count with the infected has Joel forced to confront how he really feels about you.

Word Count: 1.2k

Content Warning: Joel’s kinda mean I guess lol, reader has a breakdown.

Note: heheh. Hi, it’s been a while. For my bae @cool-iguana. Just a tiny fic to hurt my feelings lol. Angst, comfort, Joel realising he loves reader. Infected attack.

A split second was all it took for you to realise your mistake, one that was too late to rectify. Fuelled by a growing hunger, the type that created an ache so deep it felt as it the emptiness of your stomach had grown claws, digging it’s claws into the surrounding organs.

They suppose they could blame the weather for the mishap; the snowstorm they’d unexpectedly been caught in was unrelenting. It was harsh, bitter. The feeling of their fingertips and toes was non existent, the shivering and teeth chattering causing a complete sense of irritation that she couldn’t contain.

Their cold hands were barely holding onto the gun, the end of the freshly warmed barrel from firing a shot had a small bout of a cloud exit the end of the barrel. Realisation had set in barely seconds after their actions; one infected.

One loan runner the two of them could’ve easily taken down without any need for the use of a gun, they knew it was both a waste of ammunition and putting them in danger of alerting their location of raiders or nearby infected.

Dissociation is strange—it’s harrowing and exhausting. It drags you back into your mind to force you to relive your mistake, while the physical body completely unaware of the clicker that had been lurking in a nearby building, seemingly dormant until the fire had been shot.

It was close, too close. The smell of rotting flesh, the terrifying shrill and speed of the infected as it ran straight toward her as she froze. Never once had they frozen before, always composed, articulated and calm. They could almost feel the teeth of the ravenous monsters desperation, dying for something to sink into, the closest part of you being the exposed skin of their neck.

The way their mind had encapsulated that moment and forced the torment on them had almost cost them their life. Unable to process the traumatic events of how close it had been that your life had been taken; so viciously, so quickly and undeniably their own fault. They ignore the ache in their limbs, blood running as cold as their skin in the worsening snowstorm.

Joel had barely managed to save their life, had barely managed to pull out his large hunting knife and find the strength and mobility in his frozen, stiffened and arthritic fingers to push the blade into the creatures head to save your life.

He had yelled, but it had gone unanswered; the same emotionless expression on their face unnerved him, how distant their eyes seemed to be from him. So he took it in his own hands to physically drag you to a small cabin, trudging through the thick snow, struggling to pull your dead weight behind him before shoving you into the small house.

Joel doesn’t say a word to them, just runs his aching fingers through his greying and now, freezing hair, his ears an uncomfortable shade of beet red from being exposed to the cruel winter storm. He watches them; how disconnected they are from it all, from him.

But he still can’t find it in him to shake off the rage, to bury it so deeply inside of him he could act like it never happened, but it did which means it could happen again.

That made you a liability, to yourself.. and him. The thought stung him. It made his heart swell with an ache he hadn’t felt before, in fact it only fuelled his rage, his fear.

“The hell was that back there? You ain’t ever done nothin’ so damn stupid in your life!” His voice is tight and wound up, he can’t stop the words from escaping his chapped and purple lips.

“You know the rules, shit, woman. The hell’s wrong with you? You lookin’ for a damn death wish or somethin’, for the both of us.”

The growl of his voice was so raw, so truly agitated she couldn’t help but feel herself pulling away, evermore present in his lecture than before.

It starts with one tear that slips without you noticing, then two.. you doesn’t bother to count them as they fall, your waterline mimicking a leaking tap, their cheeks are the basin sink as they catch the water that drips down them. The only thing they can think of is the saltiness of the tears and Joel.. better yet his anger, rage.. disappointment.

“Are you goin’ to speak? What the hell do you have to say for ya’self?”

Another beat of silence, she can’t bring herself to reply, to accept what just happened.

“You’re a liability, can’t have ya comin’ out on patrols with me anymore. I’m talkin’ to Tommy first thing when we get back.” His voice is firm, but much softer and defeated.

A.. liability? Is that what Joel saw her as?

It starts as a small fracture in the facade you’re putting up, then it cracks more deeply, pieces crumbling around her by the second until it shatters to their own feet that stand on the cool, slightly rotten and moss grown hardwood floors.

He was right, that’s all they were. A liability, a failure, a disappointment.

Liability.

Failure.

Disappointment.

Repeat. Liability, failure, disappointment.

You want to scream, to beg, to apologise, all that comes out is the choked up breathless and completely broken sob from your wet mouth. It catches his attention, how far you’d broken down, he hadn’t ever seen you like this before, so vulnerable, so weak. Perhaps he had been to harsh.

No. He knows he had, but he was scared—god he was scared shitless of losing you.

His long legs take large strides to get to you, two or three until he’s knelt down beside you, his large arms pulling you into his lap, rocking your trembling body back and forth, trying to offer some comfort after the grief he’d caused you.

He should’ve been gentler, kinder. As he was now, his large fingertips finding solace in her scalp, massaging small shapes as he plays with their hair, brushing it out of their face. As he looks down without obstruction from their hair, the sight breaks him, his small sweetheart curled up in his lap, lip wobbling and face red and swollen from crying.

You needed comfort, not reprimand.

“I-I’m.. s-so sor-ry Joel..” the crack in your voice is like a splintering dagger filled in acid straight into his heart, cracking his ribs and puncturing his lungs, leaving him breathless for a moment, guilty.

“Shh sweetheart, just let me hold you. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.. I’ll always keep you safe, as long as you’re by my side.”

There was a tenderness in his voice, a sincerity that he had never shown before, he had a second chance and he wasn’t about to let that go to waste.

“I’ve got you sweetheart. You’re everything to me.” The mumble was half faded in the sound of blood rushing to your ears, but relaxed a bit in his arms as she understood what he was telling you.

I love you. I won’t let you go. I’ve got you.

You weren’t okay, not right now. But you would be.

#Joel miller #Joel miller fic #Joel miller angst #Joel miller comfort #Joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #tlou

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riddle-me-ri · 1 year

Note

A little bit of an angst-comfort idea, but I want to see how the scarecrows would deal with their s/o accidentally being exposed to fear toxin. To top it all off, the toxins strong enough to cloud the readers vision so that they don’t see Jonathan but instead their worst fear, practically cowering from him. While the scarecrows do love them some fear, I would imagine they wouldn’t like to see their s/o in such a state (or maybe some of them would to an extent?)

If it’s no biggie, could you end it off with how the boys would try to make it up to their s/o after the fact?

A/N: ooooohhhhhh yeeesssssss this is the kind of angst I absolutely live for! Poor scare babies although I have no doubt some would be into it!

The Scarecrows React to Reader Being Exposed To Fear Toxin

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

- Whether it's a great enemy or a great lover. This Scarecrow desires to know what terrifies you.

- However, he would like your consent at all times.

- Unfortunately, your first encounter was without either his knowledge or your consent.

- Jonathan felt some guilt, but it was overpowered by the sound of your gasps and cries.

- He walked over to you, in an instinct maneuver to comfort you.

- Yet you shied away in a corner. Screaming, digging your face in your hands.

- It's almost like he can feel the erratic beating of your heart in his ears. You cry out for his name–to save you and make it stop.

- And he will…he does but he takes his time.

- He makes it up to you with a string of apologies, and suggestions to keep you from stumbling upon him during future experiments.

- He spends practically a whole week with you, reading to you, holding you.

- It's the least he can do for the exhilarating results you provided.

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow:

- He longs to see you afraid, to see the terror in your eyes.

- The idea absolutely thrills him to his core.

- To know you in such a vulnerable state and what makes your skin crawl.

- The moment will happen sooner rather than later when you walk in on him testing a new toxin.

- He tried to push you away, to get you out of the vicinity, but it was too late.

- As you quivered and fell to your knees in cold terror.

- You screamed for him to help you, explain what's happening.

- Jonathan couldn't deny your sounds of fright were like music to his ears.

- The way your pretty eyes were blown out.

- Your voice shrieked his name and your heart was no doubt pounding and pounding.

- Much like during…another activity.

- He makes mental notes of what you say you see; what you fear.

- He's not entirely cruel, he doesn't make the illusion last any longer than needed.

- Jonathan will be with you for the rest of the day.

- You have his undivided attention. He will cuddle you, rest with you, and prepare meals.

Batman the Animated Series Scarecrow:

- As curious as he is, he would never have you under his toxin.

- Not without your consent, and without laying down some ground rules.

- He may be curious and almost dying to know such a deep emotional part of you…

- But his love for you is stronger than that.

- When it happens accidentally, its his worst nightmare has come to life.

- Hearing you cry out for him while simultaneously pushing yourself away.

- You wanted him to protect you…but from himself.

- Jonathan regrets ever being curious, he absolutely despises seeing you like this.

- He’s quick to give you the antidote.

- Even through all the shoves and kicks to try to keep him away from you.

- When you come too, he's instantly more affectionate than usual.

- Jon holds you and comforts you and isn't going to leave your side anytime soon.

- Until what you experienced is just a distant memory.

The New Batman Adventures Scarecrow:

- Jonathan is somewhat torn.

- He cares for you deeply and the last thing he'd want is to harm you in any way…physically or mentally.

- However, he can't deny he'd be intrigued to know your fears and your instincts when facing it.

- When the moment comes, unexpectedly he's frozen.

- He realizes one of his own fears in fruition to your own fear.

- He doesn't like to see you frightened, your screams make his ears ring in concern.

- Jonathan unfortunately doesn't have an immediate antidote for this certain batch.

- It's nearly impossible to work as he hears you scream for him to save you.

- When he eventually finds the cure or the images subside he's by your side in an instant.

- Jonathan is mute, unsure what to say to comfort you.

- He is at your beck and call for the next few days.

- Ensuring your mental state and to make up for the absolute hell he accidentally put you through.

Fear State Scarecrow:

- This Scarecrow believes that everyone should face their fears and traumas in order to evolve.

- The same would be for his significant other.

- However, unlike his experiment where he plans to push the city of Gotham through its Fear State.

- The trial to get you through your Fear State is far more…personal…intimate if you will.

- It takes some convincing (and most definitely manipulation) to get you to concede.

- He's doing it because he cares about you. He knows your potential to be an even stronger, more fearless version of yourself.

- Don't you want that? You trust him right?

- You do, so you go through with it.

- And it's absolute hell.

- Even Jonathan has to admit, he's not a fan of your screams.

- Especially when you cry out for him.

- When you finally surpass it, Jonathan promises to never put you through it again.

Year One Scarecrow:

- Jonathan has spent his adult years learning, testing, modifying, and mastering fear to torture and subdue those that have done it to him.

- Its a tool of horror, pain, and torment. One he prays you will never have to experience.

- Surely if he can wield fear he can constrain it…

- Unfortunately, that's not the case.

Jonahan never thought he’d know terror like the abuse he endured by his dear late great granny.

- But your howls and tears were just as, if not more, horrific.

- Jon tries to not panic as he scurries quickly.

- It hurts him when you defensively push him and try to run away.

- He knows you can’t help it, you don’t see him.

- Just the concept of being your nightmare, breaks his heart.

- Once the effects wear off, Jon is quick to comfort you in any way he can.

- He whispers a mantra of apologies, hoping that you can find it in your heart to forgive him.

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

- Much like Year One, Jon uses fear as a weapon against his adversaries.

- You are the only glimmering light in his dark, lonely life.

- He wouldn't dare make you endure the effects of his fear toxin.

- Regardless, accidents are bound to happen.

- Jonathan is panicking.

- Very few things can drop the Master of Fear to his knees; you being in danger was one of them.

- Even when he subdues the effects and you’re no longer screaming for your fears to go away.

- He’s almost certain he’s lost you. That you would leave him.

- Why would you be with someone that can bring forth your worst fears? And even accidentally, have you endure them.

- Jonathan is beyond shocked when you forgive him.

- As if he didn’t already treat you like a precious jewel.

- He’ll be even more protective of you.

- When you ask him to go to bed with you, or to join you, he’ll go with no hesitation.

- Anything to keep you happy, and to make you forget his horrible mistake.

Harley Quinn The Animated Series Scarecrow:

- Absolutely not. It's a hard no for Jonny.

- He doesn't even care if you seem curious.

- Regardless, he got to find out your fears when you accidentally opened the door to his lab.

- He's practically panicking. Probably the most erratic of the Scarecrows.

- In his panic he is likely to short circuit and seize up.

- It isn’t until you shout out for his name he’d snap out of it.

- When he finally manages to administer the antidote, he’s beyond relieved.

- He practically clings to you, shushing your cries, assuring you that you’re okay.

- No matter how much you tell him it’s not his fault. He still feels miserable about it.

- Expect him to be very clingy for a while. Clutching you tighter, making your favorite comfort foods, never not being by your side.

Happy Halloween Scooby-Doo Scarecrow:

- Echoing earlier Scarecrows, he has his curiosity. But he doesn't press you if you're uncomfortable.

- He wants the absolute best for you, always.

- Jonathan has been experimenting and further progressing his toxins for years.

- So sure there would be no accidental exposure.

- Jon is wracked with concern and anger when you scream bloody murder one night.

- He doesn’t take the time to figure out how you got exposed.

- Though it does very little, more out of comfort for him almost than for you. He tries to comfort you through your fears.

- He tells you they aren’t real, they’re visions. He’s so sorry. He has no idea how this could have happened, etc, etc.

- His words fall on deaf ears as you keep crying his name for help.

- When he finally gives you the antidote or the effects finally surpass, he is still in a panic.

- Jonathan isn’t an overly affectionate man. He has his moments, but they’re few, far, and in between.

- Yet, on this night, he isn’t hesitant at all. Kissing your head and cheeks, rubbing your arms and back in warmth and comfort.

- Never again, never again will this happen. You have his word.

#ri writes #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #the scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #arkhamverse scarecrow x reader #btas scarecrow x reader #tnba scarecrow x reader #fear state scarecrow x reader #year one scarecrow x reader #masters of fear scarecrow x reader #dark knight scarecrow x reader #harley quinn the animated series scarecrow x reader #happy halloween scooby doo scarecrow x reader #headcanons #scenarios

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