#and then drying my tears and telling myself that if he was happy with her i should be happy for him

[borathae]

"Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, domestic Fluff

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, this goes from Dom to subbiest!Yoongi, he is all cocky at first but then turns into the whiniest baby, i love when men submit :), he spanks her casually and talks about putting her over his lap, it’s not in a sex related context but with heavy sexual undertones, she is such a tease when she subs ahaha, and a sexy demon when she Doms, explicit flirting, dirty talk, istfg the tension between them, a lil bit of dry humping, sex spells, magical orgasm control, strength & size kink, she lifts him onto the counter to feel him up, stripping, he sits on her lap as she gives him a handjob, edging, praise, good boy kink, she calls him kitten, he calls her Mistress, begging, sexy possessiveness, messy nipple sucking, blowjob, deep throating, CBT, masochist!Yoongi, she rides him, his big vampire cock makes an appearance, so much cum besties, subby boy tears, his fangs make an appearance too, she fucks him into non-verbal subspace, dollification in the sense that he can't move anymore cause it feels so gooood, this is both the kinkiest sex ever but also deeply emotional for him, you know me there's gonna be an emotional conversation at the end, they're in love :(

Wordcount: 11.4k

a/n: listen besties, you know my thoughts on them. i can't form any more words. i just love them and i want them to be happy always 🤎

“My love?” you say, sitting down next to him and draping your arm over his tummy.

He was lounging in his living room, writing lyrics in his notebook when you interrupted him. 

“What do you want?” he asks, not looking up.

“Why do you think that I want something?”

“You’ve got your needy princess voice on.” 

“I don’t have a needy princess voice”, you mumble with a pout. 

Yoongi lowers his pen and gives a look, cocking his right brow up.

“Even if I do”, you give up, “you can at least give me a chance to voice it.”

He lowers his book to his lap and turns just a little so you are facing him better. 

“I’m all ears.”

“Okay so”, you begin by taking his hands and bouncing on the sofa excitedly, “I’ve been thinking and I wanna show you something.”

“Okay?”

“Here. This”, you place a piece of paper into his palm, “read it.” 

Yoongi sighs in defeat and reads whatever secret you put onto the paper. He looks attentive at first, but soon his expression changes into utter surprise and shock until landing on confusion.

“Where did you get this from? I didn’t show you that yet.”

You snicker mischievously, grabbing his thigh to shake his leg.

“What do you think of it?”

“I wanna know where you got this from. That’s not the magic we’ve been practicing.”

“Tae. He had this really interesting book on sex magic and he gave it to me and I went through lots of spells with him already. This was one of them.”

“Princess”, Yoongi says in his scolding voice, lowering his eyes at you, “what did I tell you about doing new magic behind my back?”

“Technically you said that I knew enough control these days that I can feel safe in myself.”

“Yeah and then I followed it up by telling you to discuss new magic with me before trying it. Perfect control doesn’t mean being master of all magic. You can still get hurt or hurt others. This is crazy”, he says, lifting the piece of paper to wave it in the air, “you’re not ready for this kinda stuff.”

“But I am.”

“What do you mean?” he squints his eyes, “princess, what did you do?” 

“I’m only gonna tell you if you promise not to get mad.”

He squints his eyes even harder, making it difficult for him to see. But he doesn’t need to see clearly right now, to see the utter mischief in your eyes. You may pretend to be sorry right now, but you aren’t. You are completely and utterly confident in your past sins and Yoongi is meant to accept them all. He loves that you feel safe enough with him to feel no fear in confessing to him, but he also hates that your trust in him means that you will act reckless way too frequently. 

“Fine”, he grumbles through gritted teeth, “I won’t get mad.”

“Okay so, I practiced with Tae. Many, many times until I was good at it. Then I practiced it on Tae and at first it didn’t work, but the second time we tried it I was able to control it for ten minutes. And by the third time we tried it, I managed to do it for an entire session.”

“Fucking hell, this is giving me a headache”, he murmurs, massaging the bridge of his own nose, “what else? I get a feeling that’s not it.” 

“Of course not. I did it a few more times with Tae and it went splendidly with all of them. And then I did it, okay so remember how Kook and I went on a camping trip?”

“You did it to Kook?!” Yoongi gasps, “are you outta your mind? Princess, don’t do that.”

“No, it’s not like that. I did it to him and it went well”, you calm him down, taking his hands, “it went really well. So well actually that I gave him a Ripper high without blood.”

Yoongi gawks. The silence between you and him is heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“I gave him a Ripper high without the blood, just by controlling his orgasms and making him cum really hard.”

“Stop fucking with me.” 

“I’m not. This actually happened. Ask Kook.”

Yoongi studies your face with distrust in his eyes.

“Go on, ask him”, you stress, shaking his arm.

“No, don’t be weird”, he whines and shakes you off, “I’m not gonna ask him that. Goddamn it princess, I wanna be so mad at you right now. You’re so reckless. Do you even have an idea what could have gone wrong? What you could have done? What-”

You silence him by kissing his lips. Deep and passionately. With your hands cradling his face and your tongue tasting his surprised gasps. Deeper. You need him to forget he ever wanted to be mad at you.

You climb his lap, hook your arms behind his head to pull him close. Yoongi sounds so utterly helpless underneath you. His thighs keep pressing together and his fingers cling to your body desperately. How obviously ruined he is. Just from simple kisses. 

You break them because you know that you’ve got him enchanted.

“Nothing happened”, you whisper. 

“If you think that I’m just okay with it because you kiss-” 

You kiss him again, even deeper than before.

Yoongi shakes you off, “princess, stop that. You-”

You pull him back into the kiss, silencing his growl of complaint by stuffing his mouth with your tongue. His fingers twist your jumper at the back, his throat produces a small keen of helplessness. His tongue tangles with yours. He couldn’t even control it happening. It was instinct. 

Your fingers begin scratching him behind his ear. He’s sensitive there, resulting in his chest to rub against yours as he arches his back. 

He’s distracted. Good. Your plan has worked. 

You break the kiss again, basking in the desperate sigh he lets out. His pouty lips chase you. You know that he wants more. Good. He can’t think about scolding you if he craves your kiss.

You flutter your eyes open once you are far away enough that you can comfortably look at him. He has his head tilted back and his eyes half-lidded. They switch between staring at your lips and gazing at your eyes. 

“Don’t do that”, he whispers.

“Just needed you to shut up”, you answer him as your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You know how much this makes him shiver. He gets so weak because of hairplay.

Yoongi chuckles deeply, sliding his hands to your butt. He spanks you with both hands. Hard enough to make it tingle and to force your body to flinch into him instinctively. You even let out a surprised moan, arching your back. 

“Say shit like that again and I’ll put you over my lap”, he warns, rubbing the tender spots on your pulsating buttocks, “understood?”

“You’re being unreasonable”, you argue, earning yourself another spank. You had hoped that it would. It burns so good, making you sigh his name. 

“Are we understood?” he stresses as his big, manly hands rub your tender flesh. His touch feels addictive. 

“Yes”, you get out, “yes, we’re understood.”

“Good girl. I like you so much better when you listen”, he praises and runs his hands along your waist. Up and down, back and forth. His touch feels like electricity on your skin. 

“Yoongi”, you sigh, grinding on his lap instinctively. The spanking made you needy, “Yoongi, I wanna try the spell on you.”

His touch stops. Silence. His eyes are widened as he stares at you.

“I’m sorry?” he gets out.

“I wanna do it with you.” 

“Why do you wanna do that?” Yoongi gasps with widened eyes. 

“I don’t know, I just thought that it could be fun”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’re just gonna mess it up”, he is pretending to be against it. You can see it in his eyes. 

“I know I can do it and you’re the only one who didn’t get to experience that yet”, you try harder.

“I’m three thousand years old. What makes you think I never experienced that before?”

“Because you were a brooding loner, who didn’t wanna be touched, for most of it”, you throw back.

“Wow”, he lets out and laughs. It’s heavy in amusement. His hands slide to your ass, taunting you because they aren’t lifting for a spanking again, “I was a perv for the first few centuries. You know that I was.” 

“Yeah well, then you didn’t experience it with me yet”, you throw back. 

Yoongi smirks. He’s so sexy when he does that you feel your heart flutter at the view. 

“I’m busy with lyrics.”

“That’s okay. We can do it whenever you have time.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act stupid”, he says and picks you up so he can lie you down on the sofa. He hovers above you, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re so fucking wet already and you wanna act all innocent with me”, he rasps, rolling his hips into you, “as if I have the choice to still say no.”

“You always have a choice. You just gotta be stronger than your urges and stop getting affected by my smell.”

“You’re a brat”, he says as his amused smirk grows, “fuck, I wanna make you cry on my cock.”

You shudder. He’s driving you insane. He can be so dirty-mouthed if he wants to.

“You can only do that after I made you shake”, you tell him, earning yourself a deep growl from him.

“See? I have no fucking choice.”

“Yeah, you do.”

His eyes gleam in the thrill of this little game you are playing. He closes the distance between your lips, needing your kiss. The tug was too unbearable otherwise. He is so hungry for you. 

You however, turn your head away. It results in his lips to mouth at your jawline. He lets out a chuckled whine, dragging his fangs over your skin without pressure.

“Don’t deny me”, he whispers deeply.

“I don’t wanna kiss right now”, you lie, twisting his hair playfully.

“Yeah, you do. You just get off on being cruel”, he rasps and nibbles on the spot where your jawline meets your ear. 

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t wanna get lost in something which isn’t my plan.”

“Plans can change.”

“No”, you laugh and push at his chest harsh enough that he has to sit up. You sit up as well. Your legs are tangled together, your middles pressed closed. “Not this plan. I still have lots to do. Potions to brew and bottles to fill, so you still have a few hours to think about your answer.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can have my kiss and you can make me cry on your cock.”

“See? That sounds like a good plan.”

“Definitely, but I also know that you’re only pretending to be against my plan.” 

Yoongi chuckles, cocking his right brow up.

“Brat”, he says, making you grin victoriously. 

“Yeah, I know”, you say and untangle yourself from him. You get up from the couch even if Yoongi tries so hard to keep you with him. In the end however, his hands slip from your hips and he is left feeling cold and desperate while you look down at him.

You run your hand through his hair. Yoongi tilts his head back instantly, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“Think about it”, you tell him, “I gotta go back to work.”

You step back, but Yoongi manages to snatch your hand. He holds it tightly, guiding it to his lips so he can kiss it. 

“Stay. Don’t go”, he begs, looking up at you with pleading puppy eyes.

You really want to stay. Hell, you want to kiss him and touch him and allow him to make you feel so good that you cry. But you can’t. The game of chase is too much fun with him and you know for a fact that Yoongi loves it just as much. There are many occasions where you turn each other on without acting on it instantly. The thrill of denial and the desperate hunt which follows, makes the sex all the more intense. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t”, you tell him and slip your hand out of his hold.

“Princess”, he pleads, but you step back.

“I’m in my kitchen. Yeah?” you tell him and turn to leave.

“Fuck”, Yoongi drops in the sofa, running his hand through his hair, “you’re so fucking cruel.”

You are in the doorframe, looking over your shoulder. The playful smirk you send him, makes him crazy.

“See you later”, you coo and finally turn to truly leave. 

You spend the next hours getting needier and needier. You just can’t stop imagining all the possibilities of tonight and as your mind produced vivid images of Yoongi being lost in pleasure, it couldn’t help but wander to past evenings with him. Shared moments of intense pleasure run through your mind and make you all the more desperate for him. It may sound peculiar, but you love those feelings. Thinking about sex with him is just as exciting as actual sex with him. You love swimming on those thoughts and especially when you know that your near future will include sexy times with him. The knowledge makes the fantasising just all the more sweet.

You managed to fill an impressive amount of potions in the time you thought about Yoongi. 

You made a deal with Maël and the Seville pack to deliver potions for the upcoming blue moon next week. The wolves want to strengthen their lifespan and asked you to deliver the needed potions for it. The ritual will be a werewolf only event, but you are allowed to see the preparations with the explanation that you are Min Yoongi’s mate. It is honestly remarkable which places you are allowed to enter without question because you are his love. It is also very nerve-wrecking to think about which important people trust your magic because they know that Yoongi has his entire trust in you. You are obviously excited about all the opportunities, but if you told your past self what kind of life she would be living one day and what kind of job she would be pursuing, she would have called you crazy. You’re a witch, delivering potions to an established and highly important werewolf pack and you are helping your vampire Creator mate keep the peace between the supernatural factions. Goddamn, your life is awesome.

There is a sudden knock on your door. Your heart does somersaults in your chest, your knees almost give up on you. He is here. Yoongi is finally here. You check the clock. It’s not even been two hours. It felt so much longer than that however.

“Yes?” you call out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He seems to have taken a shower as he is in a rope and nothing else. The rope is black with golden dragons on the material and a golden belt. His long raven hair is tied into a bun.

“Oh? Hey there”, you tell him as calmly as possible, while your heart is almost giving up in your chest. You pretend to be busy with wrapping rope around the potion necks, whilst in reality you are just waiting for him to make a move.

The door locks.

Your heart races even more.

Yoongi is by your side within seconds, wrapping his arms around you from behind and connecting his lips with the side of your neck. His big hands squeeze you while his strong arms pull you against him. You stumble because of it, but Yoongi holds you with enough strength that you barely even notice the stumble. He sways you from side to side slowly, helping you instantly float on the sensation of being close.

You feel light-headed. Fantasising about being intimate with him made you so sensitive that his neck kisses feel like paradise right now. 

“You were being fucking awful with the shit you pulled”, Yoongi rasps, “telling me all this shit and then just leaving. You think I was able to actually be productive these past two hours?” 

You can feel his voice against your back. You press yourself closer because of it.

“I was just saying. It was just an idea.”

“Stop fucking around”, he warns, guiding his lips to the shell of your ear, “you knew what you were doing.”

You smile. Of course you knew what you were doing, that’s why you did it in the first place.

“And what is your answer?” you ask him.

“If we are gonna do this, I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s our secret.”

“Good girl”, he praises and turns you in his arms. He presses you against the countertop, staring you down with dark, enchanting eyes. You feel so drawn to him. You touch his chest.

“So how are we gonna do this?” you ask him.

“Not so fast. I’m not done yet”, he says and takes your hands to guide them behind your back. He steps closer this way, making you gulp as you look at him. He lowers his voice, caressing your wrists as he keeps you pinned, “I need you to promise me that if I won’t react as well to the spell, to not get disappointed.”

“What? You mean that you’re too strong for it? Like you are too strong for the rope spell?” you taunt, staring at his lips.

Yoongi tugs his brows together, making you snicker victoriously. 

“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s okay to be nervous”, you tease him as you rub his chest.

His frown grows, but you know not to be intimidated. He is just embarrassed to be caught in a lie.

You run your hands to the nape of his neck and begin to play with the hair he didn’t put into the bun. 

“Anything else?” you ask him.

“You’re a brat”, he mumbles.

“I know”, you grin, “and you love it. Be honest.” 

His frown softens. He steps closer, sliding his big hands to your hips. He lowers himself, you do the same. You are resting against the desk in a way so that your legs are between his’ and he can look down at you. Your weight, you support with your elbows propped on the countertop.

The tension is unbearable. Your lips are only a tilt of the head away from feeling the other’s kiss.

“Kiss me right now”, he orders in a rasp, staring at your lips with half-lidded eyes.

“And if I won’t?”

“I’m gonna get my kiss regardless.”

“Is that a threat?”

“This is the truth.” 

You giggle, “oh Yoongs, you are so delightful.”

Yoongi gazes at your lips.

“Kiss me”, he whispers.

You lift yourself. Yoongi moans, parts his lips and closes his eyes. He is so eager to kiss. With a fluttering heart, you watched it happening. You giggle and lower yourself again. 

Yoongi opens his eyes.

“Please”, he begs, cupping your cheeks. He lets his words swirl over your lips, “give me permission to kiss you.”

“You’re so cute”, you whisper. 

Yoongi moves his lips as if he was already kissing you, letting out a pained sound. 

“I’m begging you, allow me. Please.”

“I don’t even have to enchant you to get you begging”, you taunt, inching closer.

Your lips ghost over his’. Yoongi moans softly, squeezing your cheeks. He doesn’t move in. Not until you initiate it. The denial aches.

“You’re a delight”, you whisper and push him away from you 

Yoongi stumbles back, looking so utterly hurt. You take his waist and switch your roles, pushing him against the counter. One surprise movement later, he sits on top of it, pressing his legs together in embarrassment.

“Why would you do that?” he complains.

“Because I can”, you are smiling up at him and kneading his hips, “now stop pressing those legs together and let me get a peek.”

Yoongi follows without hesitation, gawking at you with his eyes slowly getting softer in submission. He knew that he would be the submissive tonight and he loves it. He feels so excited about it. You are such a good Dom and you know him like no other. He trusts you, he can be naked with you, vulnerable and utterly himself and you wouldn’t judge him. Which is why he loves it when you’re bossy. Yoongi loves being a helpless slut just following your orders. 

You slide your hands to his inner thighs, sending electricity through his veins. You massage them gently, never going past the hem of his rope. He wants you to go past. He currently exists for nothing else than your touch.

“You’ve got the softest thighs, my love”, you gush and look into his eyes, “I want to exchange safewords with you.”

“Snowdrop.”

“That’s right and is it okay for me to control the scene?”

He nods his head, opening his legs further. You are caressing his skin mindlessly as you talk and it feels so good.

“Say it.”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Good boy. Is it okay for me to take off your clothes and to touch you?”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Both?”

“Why are you asking so many questions? You’ve been torturing me for two hours, please I wanna be touched and cum in your hands”, he whines, cracking you up. 

You bounce on the spot, blinding him with your smile. Your fingers knead his flesh. It tickles uncomfortably which forces Yoongi to whine and push them away. You change your grip, now caressing him again. This all happened within seconds as you smiled at him.

“You won’t cum for a long time, kitten. So get that outta your head.”

Yoongi gulps, opening his legs even more. He looks so, so needy this way. And like such easy prey. He even arches his back so his nipples would slip out of the rope accidentally. So perky and dainty. He’s got the prettiest nipples. You ogle them for a moment then look back at his face.

“And second of all, I fucking love you acting this way. My pretty slut, mhm?”

Yoongi rolls his hips against nothing. His skin is charged in sensitivity, his body feels fuzzy. With just your eye contact, your simple touch and your words, Yoongi already feels fucked. Shit, you are such a safe space for him. You make it so easy to switch from his normal – careful and wary – headspace to his sub headspace.

“One last question, promise”, you say, running the back of your nails up and down his inner thighs. Yoongi places his hands behind his back, putting his weight on them just so he can arch into your touch. 

“Please hurry up”, he stresses, hurting unbearably. He needs your touch on his cock. It hurts so bad to be denied.

“Is it okay for me to go with the flow or do you need me to ask for consent each time I do something new?”

“I wanna be touched”, Yoongi begs.

“Answer my question, kitten.”

“Don’t ask for consent, just touch me. I’ll say if I don’t want something.”

“There we go, that’s all I needed to know. Thank you for being such a good cooperator, kitten. Such obedience needs to be rewarded”, you say and slip your hands from his thighs. 

You twist the golden belt between your fingers and open the loose knot with one tug. The fabric still hides him, but you open it. You want to see him and marvel at his beauty. His ivory skin glows golden in the candlelight, his dark nipples are swollen and against his soft tummy, his hard cock stands impatiently and aches for your touch. His velvety cockhead is flushed, the thick veins on his cock pulsate as he gets harder under your greedy eyes. 

“Look at that. You’re already hard”, you gush, looking up at him, “kitten, you’re so hard.”

“I’m so needy.”

“Of course you are. My needy kitten.”

You run your fingertips to his tummy. Up, up, up until you can trace his pecs and down again. Teasing. You trace the outline of his cock on his tummy without touching him on his cock.

“Please touch me”, Yoongi begs. He’s such a good boy with you, always so eager to beg. 

“I am.”

“Touch my cock, please”, he tries, arching his back. 

“You’re such a fucking delight, my kitten”, you rasp and step closer. Your fingers slide to his waist, your lips connect themselves with his chest. Your teeth take his right nipple and play with it hungrily. Your lips suck him swollen, your tongue tastes his skin. 

Yoongi feels lightheaded while his nipple feels charged in pleasure. Every touch, kiss, lick and bite feels better than the last. He thought that he couldn’t get any needier, but he was wrong. 

“___”, Yoongi begins moaning your name. That means a lot with him. Your name doesn’t fall from his lips often. Only when he feels deeply and overwhelmingly emotional. Being pushed deeper and deeper into the safest, most pleasurable subspace is definitely one of the most intense emotions he can experience. Your name feels like relief during those moments, your syllables taste like candy on his tongue. 

You switch sides. You are a very fair Dom after all. His nipples need to be worshiped equally. He has such a pretty pair of them. Once his left nipple feels as swollen as his right, you lift your head. 

His cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavily. Your thumbs stay on his nipples, rolling circles into them.

“Be my good kitty and take off your rope”, you order him. 

Yoongi obeys. The rope falls onto the countertop and stays there.

“There we go. Look at you.”

Yoongi is entirely naked while you are still dressed. If his past self could see him right now, he would actively make sure never to meet you just so he doesn’t have to get naked in such a demeaning way. But Yoongi isn’t his past anymore. Yoongi is in love and he is happy and he found his safe home with you, which means that being naked while you were dressed feels good to him. Maybe even empowering because of how incredibly smitten you look. 

“I want to worship you for hours, my love”, you tell him as you run your hands over his torso.

“Because I’m beautiful?” he asks shyly, earning himself your eye contact.

“Say that again.”

“Do you want to worship me because I’m beautiful?”

Your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“Do you think that you’re beautiful?” you can barely get the words out.

“Yes”, he whispers, lowering his head shyly. 

“Holy shit”, you press out. Your hands cradle his face, your eyes sparkle as you make him look at you, “holy shit, Yoongi my love. You, you never said that- you, oh god, are so beautiful, oh my love”, you choke out and squeeze his cheeks. 

Yoongi feels great. Nothing hurts. Except his cock. Oh god, he is thinking of it again.

“Can you touch my cock?” he begs, “please, I was a good boy”, and he bargains.

“I can, just not here. Follow me, my love”, you say and take his hands to tug him off the countertop. 

He hops off and follows you to the sofa. You twirl and fall, tugging him down with you by his hips. Yoongi stumbles and falls onto your lap, gawking at you with widened eyes.

“What the hell?” he says.

“You like it?”

“Why should I, I like it? You tugged me down and that’s it.”

“No, I meant do you like this?” you ask him and wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off. 

Yoongi gasps, writhing desperately as his legs squeeze around your thighs. His eyes widen for just a second before his lids flutter and a breathy "ah" slips past his lips.

The first touch won’t ever lose its spark. Yoongi has to moan again because all the mental and physical teasing made him unbearably sensitive. 

You place your unoccupied hand on the small of his back and tilt his hips so his cock thrusts into your palm. Then you continue your rhythm, running your skilled hand up and down his entire length.

“Do you like this? Mhm?” you repeat your question.

“Yeah”, Yoongi gets out, writhing on your lap. This position is a first for him. To sit on your lap and have you touch his cock. He feels so vulnerable and small in this position and it’s messing with his already dizzy head. 

Yoongi lowers his head, looking down at where your hand makes him feel electric. His tip is glistening in his excitement. 

You run your fingers to it and give him a squeeze, forcing more droplets to leak out of him. The sensation combined with the visual makes Yoongi moan. 

It was soaked in surprise, shock, pleasure and submission with a hint of embarrassment in the end. 

“Look at you”, you have your sexy, powerful voice on. The kind of voice which makes Yoongi’s knees weak, “you’re leaking like crazy”, you say and massage his pink tip in strong squeezes. You have him between your thumb and pointer finger, using the grip to really make him leak. 

And he does. Oh, how he leaks. He gets so wet for you. He gets especially wet when you are helping him fall into his small subspace. And tonight. Oh tonight, you pushed him into it with one simple act. The act of sitting him down on your lap and playing with his cock.

“Look at all of this. You’re so wet for me, kitten.”

Yoongi falls even further, arching his back so the tip of his cock moves between your fingers. He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. A breathy, “fuck” follows. So quiet and shy only you can hear it. 

You watch him, feeling your tummy churn in excitement. His cheeks are rosy, his pretty button nose is scrunched up and his dark hair frames his delicate face messily. 

“You’re so pretty”, you praise him, “my pretty kitten.”

“Please”, he chokes out and lowers his head. His body writhes on your lap, his cock throbs between your fingers. 

“Yoongi, love”, you speak sickeningly sweet, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his head up, “don’t hide your pretty face from me. Open your eyes.”

Yoongi obeys, looking at you with droopy, glassy eyes and his lips parting as he keens shyly. He can barely keep up eye contact. It makes him feel so shy that his tummy keeps fluttering. But he doesn’t want to disobey you. Not when you touch him so good and not when you look so pretty.

“That’s better. You have such beautiful eyes”, you say and smile, “keep looking at me, kitten.”

“___”, he whispers shakily, cupping your face as his hips roll back and forth on your lap. Like this, his balls and tender hole grind against you, sending bolts of warm pleasure through his middle. His palms are clammy. You know that it is because of a mixture of pleasure, coyness and the intense warmth his body produces because he is with his soulmate. His touch feels so alive on your skin, because this is how you make him feel.

“That’s it, don’t you dare look away”, you praise, rewarding him with the best touch Yoongi ever felt on his cock. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody makes him feel so good. 

Yoongi mewls and runs his clammy hands to your jaw. He cradles it for just a second then his hands slip to the sides of your neck.

“My handsome prince”, you whisper, “you’re my handsome, pretty love.”

“You’re making me cum”, Yoongi chokes out and pulls a face of devastated pleasure. 

“Thank you for telling me”, you say and retreat your touch, caressing his thigh instead.

“No”, Yoongi breathes and squirms, “please…”

“You’re such a good boy for telling me.”

“Don’t edge me, please”, he begs and tries to tug your hand back to his aching cock. 

“You’re cute. I take it that I can start with the spell now?”

“What spell?”

“The orgasm control spell. Yoongi love, that’s why we’re doing this tonight. Did you already forget?” you ask in a fond snicker and your loving hands caressing his waist.

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out.

He was so lost in pleasure that he forgot the true purpose of tonight. He is so deep in subspace that he forgot the only reason why you are touching him is because of the spell. He feels a little sad at that thought, lowering his eyes.

“Unless you don’t want it anymore. Then we can do something else”, you say.

He shakes his head, “I want it, but I’m, I don’t know, I need reassurance.”

“Of course, oh Yoongi you’re my most loved. Yeah?” you say and slide your hand to his cock, “and I’m gonna make you see stars”, you add in a rasp as you run your hand up and down the underside of his cock. 

Yoongi moans softly, closing his eyes and slipping his hands to your shoulders.

“Don’t stop”, he whispers and adds a breathy, “please, Mistress.”

“Okay. I won’t stop. Is it okay for me to do the spell when I notice you getting close again?”

Yoongi nods his head.

“I need to hear it.”

“Yes, surprise me with it. Please, holy fuck, don’t stop.”

“There we go, that’s what I like from you. You’re such a good boy voicing your consent like that”, you praise him as your thumb massages his most sensitive spot. 

He writhes and moans softly, “fuck. There.”

“Yeah, right there. You’re such a good boy, my love. Such a good boy.”

“Okay please”, Yoongi reaches down and laughs panickedly, “be quiet.”

You snicker, “close?”

“Yeah…“

“You’re so cute”, you say and cup his cheek, “come here, kitten.”

Yoongi leans down. Your lips brush his forehead. A hot, breathtaking sensation shoots through his body. A big, unbreakable knot forms deep in his tummy and his cock suddenly feels like exploding. Not literally but he swears, one wrong touch and he would shoot cum everywhere. Except that there are touches on his cock and no matter how good they feel, he can’t let go. 

You pull your head back, studying his face. 

“Shit, ah”, he gasps, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to make sense of his own state, “what did you do? Ah.”

“See? And you wanted to tell me that you’ll be too strong for the spell.”

He somehow manages to open his eyes. They are filled with devastation.

“It shouldn’t feel like this.”

“Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head.

“What else?”

“I can’t, I can’t cum. But I want to. Please don’t edge me, I don’t know what- ah-”, he stutters, ending his senseless rambling by rolling his eyes back and closing them. His nose scrunches up, his fingers dig into your shoulders as his body begins fighting the enchantment. He keeps grinding and humping and bouncing on your thigh, all while his cock throbs and pulsates between your fingers.

“Look at you. You’re such a needy kitten. Look at you trying to cum”, you say and giggle maniacally, “you’re so cute.”

“Fuck. Shit”, he gasps and tugs your hands away. “Oh”, he startles because of his own reaction, looking at you with big eyes. His hands grasp themselves and move up to hide his lower face behind them, “sorry”, he mumbles into his little fists.

“You’re okay”, you soothe him, “I can stop this again. It’s not your taste, is it?” 

“I don’t know”, he confesses and looks at his cock. It is swollen and pink. So pink it borders red. He drops his right hand and wraps it around his cock. He still covers his mouth with his left hand, changing the grip once his own touch meets his length. He squeezes his own cheeks, furrowing his brows as his eyelids flutter. A deep purr rumbles in his chest, his thighs squeeze your own. His own touch feels so different than yours. You have the softest palms while his’ are slightly calloused from fighting. He misses your softness whilst at the same time getting addicted to his rough touch.

“Fuck, please”, he begs as he tightens his fingers around his cock. He tugs on it, trying so very hard to make himself cum. He fails miserably at it, gripping your upper arm in desperation, “please princess, please.”

You watch him touch himself, caressing his twitching thighs as you do. His hand is so big around his cock. Yoongi isn’t small, he is actually the perfect length, but his huge hand makes his cock almost look tiny. He pumps it around his girth, squeezing out droplets of useless precum. 

“Ah god, shit”, he presses out and speeds up his hand. Wet squelching and the needy sounds of him fill the room. He is panting like crazy, mixing in deep purrs and desperate gasps every now and then.

“There we go, touch yourself. Isn’t it fascinating? Look at your wet, little cock. Such a wet kitten cock, mhm?” you talk to him in your sexiest voice, soothing the shakes in his legs with tender touches. 

Yoongi mewls loudly and drops his head against you. He humps you, fucking his cock between his naked tummy and your clothed stomach. His hands, once grasping his own body, slam down on the wall behind the sofa. He scratches his nails down as he somehow tries to make himself cum. 

“Fuck”, he presses out, letting the word swirl over your face. His hips chase you quickly, giving his cock a fruitless fuck, “f-fuck.”

“Does that help?” you ask him with a fond chuckle on your lips and your hands grasping his buttocks. They are tensing uncontrollably, mirroring the desperation he currently experiences.

“No”, he croaks, “what did you do to me? I can’t cum. I want to cum, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop this.”

But Yoongi doesn’t say the word. Yoongi mewls and fucks himself against you with such vigour it knocks the air out of you. And again. Again. Again. Yoongi is desperately humping you even if it makes breathing oh so hard for you.

“Stop that”, you laugh and grip his ruthless hips, “hey, you’re gonna make me have a stomach ache if you continue humping me.”

Yoongi drops onto your lap, whimpering into the crook of your neck. His hands cradle the back of your head, his body shudders.

“I can’t do this”, he gets out in a fragile voice.

“I will stop this, yeah?”

“Don’t stop please. I can’t cum. Holy shit, what did you do to me?”

“Magic”, you say and slide your hands under his thighs, “now don’t startle.”

Yoongi startles. You stood up with him in your arms and he didn’t expect it. He presses himself closer, whining about being put down.

“I’m too heavy, don’t do that.”

“You’re not heavy. Hush.”

You turn and sit him down on the sofa. Yoongi looks up at you, looking so embarrassed. He’s adorable.

You give him a grin and fall to your knees before him, spreading his thighs for him. Yoongi reacts in a thrust of his hips and his hands placing themselves over yours. You caress his skin and look up. He is breathing heavily, looking so utterly nervous yet turned on.

“My pretty kitten”, you praise and take his cock between your lips. 

“Ah”, Yoongi gasps, furrowing his brows as his cock twitches into you. He is so messed up. His tummy clenches like crazy.

“Mhhhm”, you purr around him, sinking down on him until he tickles the back of your throat. You hum deliciously, swallowing around him to make it all so tight for him.

“Please”, Yoongi breathes and grips the edge of the sofa. He squirms, pressing out another “please” when you begin fucking your mouth with his cock. All while you are purring and humming and moaning around him, making him feel your voice in the most stimulating of ways. It makes him so sensitive.

Yoongi scrunches his face in desperate pleasure. He can’t cum. But he wants to cum. You feel so good. Hot, warm and soft. You keep sucking on his tip and licking the spots which are the most sensitive. Everything – every single fiber in his body – begs for him to let go, to fall into the sensations. But Yoongi can’t let go. The pressure in his tummy aches and makes breathing hard, his legs are so weak that they can’t even tremble anymore and his nails hurt from gripping the sofa. And yet he can’t cum. No matter how hard he tries.

You are at his tip again, sucking so harshly your cheeks fall in. All while your left hand is sliding to his balls and your right is jerking off his shaft. You are moaning as you feast on him, sending vibrations through his sensitive cock. 

“Please”, he begs. Pleads. Whimpers. His eyes tear up. He closes them and curls his lips back as another high-pitched whimper rolls off his tongue. 

“Mhhm, ah”, you slip off of him deliciously, slurping up the sweet mess he leaves just for you, “you’re so wet, kitten”, you taunt, massaging his thick vein and therefore forcing more useless precum out of his cock. It sits on his flushed tip as pretty, translucent pearls, “look at that mess. It’s so fucking useless, isn’t it?”

Yoongi takes your hand and squeezes it. You look up, meeting his glazed over eyes. 

“Need a break?” you ask him to which he shakes his head, “what else? Mhm?”

“I need to cum”, he presses out.

“But you can’t. I know, you told me before”, you say and smile, kissing his knuckles softly, “don’t worry kitten, you’re in safe hands. And mouth”, you say and snicker at your joke, lowering yourself back to his cock. 

Yoongi wanted to complain about your stupid joke, but couldn't because you stole his ability to speak. All he can muster are needy noises and desperate gasps for air.

You take him as deep as you can go, using the position to really push him past your throat’s limit. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s so incredibly hot to you. Especially because it makes Yoongi whimper above you and grip your head as his body slacks in utter defeat. His legs fall open further and his tummy softens as his muscles give up on him. He presses out a weak, “hngnmm” and lets his head all against the sofa and roll to the side as he is staring at you with heavy eyes.

He doesn’t use the leverage he has on your head. He truly wastes the opportunity, letting his hand lay limp on your head while you throat fuck his cock. Your left hand grips his pretty waist, your right cups his balls and tugs. 

“Ah!” he yelps, thrusting into you against his will. His back arches off the cushions, his eyes roll back involuntarily. The pain was intense, gaining in intensity because your spell turned his body into one overly sensitive mess.

You slide off with a slurp, keeping your attention on his flushed tip while your hand tugs again. Harshly. The pain sits deep, but feels like paradise. 

Yoongi drops his hand from your head for the sole purpose of rubbing his own face. With both hands. Desperately. Mostly to make sense of his state, but also to wipe some of the tears he spills. 

Another tug on his balls reminds him that he’s your fucking slut. He throbs between your lips and chokes out an agonised sound. It is filled with so much pain and torture that you feel the need to check up on him.

“Colour?” you ask, massaging his aching balls gently.

“Green”, the word leaves him breathlessly, a small whimper follows, “please let me cum, please.”

“Mhm, I don’t know. You’re so cute when you’re like this”, you coo and kiss his tip, “my cutie.”

Yoongi touches your head before cradling your cheek. His palm is sweaty, his touch weak yet loving. You tilt your head up to see him.

“Please", he whispers, staring at you through his lashes. His dark hair hangs into his face messily. He is practically glowing in pleasure. The view makes your heart race. He is so pretty.

“You’re cute when you beg”, you say and give his balls a tug. Once stretched to their limits, you incorporate a twist to really drive the pain deep.

Yoongi’s face scrunches in pleasure, he squeaks out a “please” while his enchanted cock throbs between your fingers. 

“Like this, so cute”, you squeal and giggle, “my cutie patootie”, you add in a squeak and tug on his balls, giving them a twist when it hurts the most.

Yoongi thinks that you are the cruellest person ever. Your voice and the words it produces build him up and makes him feel so loved, your eyes show him how much he is adored and yet your hands torture him as if you hated him. You are so loving and yet so cruel. Yoongi can’t function because of it. 

“Mistress, please”, he begs and squeezes your cheek gently.

“My cutie”, you say and kiss his palm. Just once because then you stand up. Your torturing, amazing touch ceases to exist. Yoongi feels cold because of it, aching in his chest.

He reaches for you instantly, “don’t leave, I need you”, he pleads.

“I’m not leaving”, you assure him and slide your hands to your own clothes to undress. 

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out, watching you with heavy eyes, “you’re beautiful, princess.”

“You’re beautiful too, love.”

You step out of your pants and get on his lap. Yoongi welcomes you with his hands touching your hips instantly. You slide your hands to his jaw, using a gentle grip to tilt his head up. Yoongi gazes up at you, looking so utterly ruined. Only you can get him this way. Ruined and flushed. So pretty. 

“You’re gonna cum inside me. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Mistress”, he whispers as he runs his hands up and down your lower back. 

A faint smile washes over you. You run your thumb to his lips to trace them. Yoongi chases you with a soft moan and his tongue darting out to lick you. You allow him, watching him lap at your thumb while his devoted eyes are gazing at you. 

“Who do you belong to, Yoongi?” you ask him.

“___”, he says your name without needing to be asked. 

“Yeah, that’s right”, you press out with a fluttering heart, “shit, you’re mine.” 

“Yours…”

You pick up his cock and sink down on him. Yoongi’s face scrunches up. He is so overtaken by pleasure and yet he still finds the strength to press out a desperate “yours.” As if it was instinct, but it’s not instinct. It’s the result of a well-trained, loved and utterly devoted sub finding his heaven in his Dom. And it’s his desperate attempt to show you that you and only you own him. He is yours and only yours and being reunited with you is the drug his body runs on.

“That’s right. Mine”, you praise and bottom out. You caress his neck and begin moving on him. Up and down with a skilful roll in your hips to make sure he hits every single inch of you.

Yoongi presses out a desperate moan and drops his head into your chest. He hugs you close, shaking in a tearless sob. It feels so good to be fucked by you.

“You’re doing so well”, you praise him, hugging him against you with your hands deep in his soft hair. 

Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more. With every bounce on his sensitive cock, every clench of your soft walls, every swirl of your hips, Yoongi feels less and less in control of his own body. This is the true effect of the spell. Every second with you feels like ecstasy and yet Yoongi is denied its high. He is right at the source and yet can’t taste its sweetness on his tongue. 

He forces his head to tilt back just so he can look up at you. His hair is a mess on his forehead, his eyes are barely open and his chin is still in contact with your chest. 

He presses out your name until the first vowel then forgets how to talk as you slam down on his cock again and render him useless. 

“You’re so handsome, my love”, you coo as you cup his cheek with your left hand. You keep your right still buried deep inside his long hair, giving him a soft tug because you know he can take it. The bun he once wore has long being ruined. You fucking love him like that. Messed up and ruffled just by you.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut in the most devastating of ways, hiding his face in your chest again as his throat produces the most beautiful of sounds. 

“So handsome and you’re taking me so well”, you praise while you are ruining him. You bottom out, writing your name with your hips. He should remember who treats him like that. He shouldn’t forget.

Yoongi falls back because his body is weakened more and more the longer you ride him. 

You fall with him, laughing because you didn’t expect it. Your hands slam onto the wall to support yourself, your boobs smother him. 

“Careful baby”, you snicker. 

“Yours”, he croaks and gathers your tits just to suck and lick them. He is wet and sloppy with it, giving you glimpses of his fangs and you are loving it. 

“Yes baby, this feels so good”, you encourage him and use the new position to bounce on him. Your clit grinds against his lower tummy this way, while his cock hits all the right spots deep inside.

Yoongi mewls and whimpers into your tits while you feel yourself get lost as well. You are going to cum on his cock. That’s all you can think about right now. His touch, his lips, his warmth and throbbing cock paired with the feeling of having him at the tip of your fingers makes you feel so weakened.

Yoongi drops his lips from your nipple. He can’t breathe. If he doesn’t fight for air soon, he will pass out. His head is against the edge of the backrest, your tits are all in his face while you bounce him. You fuck him so hard that the impact your ass makes on his thighs is audible. You sound so wet. So goddamn wet. He feels it stick to his thighs and run down his balls. Your puffy walls keep clenching and sucking on him as you make yourself cum. Yoongi knows those motions by heart. You always start to get tighter when you are getting close. Yoongi finds it hard to control himself during such a ride on normal days, but today he is actually suffering. He wants to cum, but he can’t. He is so serious. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Why does nobody know how serious he is? He wants to cum, but can’t. He can’t. Every second feels like that one pivotal moment before he tips over the edge, but he can’t. 

“Please”, he begs, scratching his nails down your back. He doesn’t even realise that he is leaving marks on your skin. All he needs you to fucking understand is that he can’t fucking cum, but he wants to so, so bad.

“I’m so close, baby”, you moan above him, caring shit about him. You are just using him and his enchanted cock. Yoongi feels so ruined, spilling tears from his ruby eyes. Your tits keep slapping his face. It’s like mockery to him. He is so desperate to make you understand him and find pity in yourself and yet you are blind to it, “so close, kitten”, you press out, squeezing around his cock, “your pretty kitten cock is gonna make me cum so good.”

Yoongi tries to beg you, but can’t. He doesn’t know how to speak. Only animalistic sounds come easy to him. They’re not of feral nature, but that of a scared, little animal getting cornered by its biggest predator. You are talking about your impending orgasm while he suffers. Yoongi feels so fucking mocked by you and as a result, he wants to kiss the very ground you walk on. You own him.

You motherfucking own him.

“So close, kitten. So fucking close”, you moan as your tits remind him what heaven is and your pussy keeps his enchanted cock on edge.

Yoongi tries to help you, but he can’t. His body is useless. He can’t even get his legs to move or his hips to meet your bounces. He genuinely feels like a stupid, little sexdoll right now. A sexdoll meant to exist for your pleasure and to be useless otherwise. You could do anything to him and he couldn’t even fight back because you ruined his body to the point of paralyzing exhaustion. 

All which still works are his hands and they are currently dimpling your ass from gripping you so goddamn harshly. He’ll leave bruises in the deepest parts of your flesh, but you can’t care about this right now. Yoongi doesn’t even notice that he is bruising you. He feels numb to anything other than your hot pussy and your tits in his face. He snatches for them and manages to brush his tongue over your left nipple. It’s so weak and slow, his licks that is, and Yoongi can’t speed up even if he wants to.

“Yes Yoongi, yes. Fuck my prince, my beautiful, ah”, you moan, rutting against him. Your walls are so tight. Yoongi tries to breathe through it, but even that gets hard when you knock the air out of him each time you slam yourself down on him. 

Your hands come to cup his cheeks and tilt his head up. You want to meet his gaze, but can’t. Yoongi’s eyes are glued shut, his face is crinkled in pleasure. Or agony. You can’t decide. Maybe it’s both. 

“My love”, you moan and climax to the view of him, “a-ah Yoongi”, you whimper, dropping your forehead against his’ as your body shakes out of control. 

Yoongi’s hands lose strength as well. Your pulsating, clenching walls are too much. Not even spilling tears is enough to show the desperation he feels at this point. But he still does. It’s the only thing he can still do besides moan like crazy and fight for air.  

You come down soon, but don’t slow down as you fuck your tight walls through the overstimulation. 

Yoongi tries again to produce words, “p-please n-no more”, he chokes out and tries to grip your hips, “I can’t take much more.”

“I know kitten. Almost there”, you lull your words, sounding so ruined by your high. You speed up your hips, fucking him into insanity and no control.

“No more”, he squeaks and presses out a pained, “oh”, before a sob shakes him. 

“Who do you belong to?” you rasp the words against his temple.

“You”, he chokes out, spilling tears.

“Yes Yoongi, fuck”, you lull as you drag your lips to his forehead, “cum for me”, you order and kiss his forehead. 

The spell drops. Yoongi screams and arches his back off the sofa to its breaking point. His head he keeps thrown back, showing view to his throat and his agape mouth. His fangs are on full display as he screams over and over again as you finally fuck him to an orgasm. His cock, once perfectly human sized, grows into his supernatural length within a second. 

“Fuck, ah”, you gasp, convulsing around the sudden intense stretch. One second you need to get used to it and then you are already bouncing on him again, fucking masses and masses of hot cum out of him, “yes Yoongi, cum for me. Yes”, you growl, using the edge of the backrest as support. Shit, he is cumming so hard that it is squirting out of you and you fear that he might stuff you past your body’s limits. You can’t get enough of him, wishing for him to reach places no human should be creamed at.

“Keep cumming for me. So fucking good. You’re such a good fucking boy”, you moan while Yoongi is reduced to screaming and clawing at the couch. If he didn’t claw at it, he would hurt you. He has no control over himself right now. It scares him, but all the more it fills him with sensations he hasn’t experienced in millennia.

Yoongi thought that he knew pleasure with you. He was so sure that he couldn’t climax any harder with you. You break him and build him up just to break him again over and over each time your bodies connect in pleasure. You know his every spot and how to get him to his breaking point, you know how to keep him there until even breathing gets hard and you know how to draw it out until begging is the only thing he can do. His pleasure is on your literal fingertips and Yoongi thought that you already dragged out the deepest highs from his soul. And yet he was wrong. He was still fucking wrong. 

The last time he felt that kind of high, Yoongi lived a different life. He killed for pleasure, fucked for short relief and found his highest high in the taste of blood. He was twisted and wrong and loved nothing more than the sensation of blood coating his throat. He doesn’t like to think of this time in his life, but sometimes he thinks about the highs he can’t have anymore and begins missing them. And you are dragging such a high out of him right now. Safely. Without blood spill. Two millennia without it and Yoongi finds it again at the fingertips of his beloved woman. If he didn’t already exist solely for you, he would have started to do so right here and now. 

His screaming stops in sync with his back dropping against the sofa. He grows limp as paralysation sets in. Yoongi is there for it. Mentally he takes in every second of his vulnerable state and he can’t do anything against it. He should feel scared, but he doesn’t. He just feels so ruined and happy that he wants to smile but he can’t. Even that he can’t do because you fucked him into helpless paralysation.

“Good job”, you praise and slip off of him, “ah shit, I’m not peeing myself right now, it’s your cum”, you say and laugh which makes even more cum squirt out of you. It covers his thighs and drips to the ground. Truly you are leaking like a goddamn faucet. You snicker at the situation and look at Yoongi when he doesn’t respond. 

He is staring at the ceiling with ruby eyes and silent tears running down his cheeks. His lips are parted and his cheeks look so…fallen in as if his muscles stopped working.

“My love?” you ask, cupping his cheek, “what’s wrong?” you say, shaking his head gently. It flops from side to side without any kind of protest from him. Like his muscles forgot how to work.

You study him with furrowed brows. Unmoving and limp. Almost as if…you widen your eyes. This is the result of a Ripper High. 

“Holy shit, I gave you a Ripper high”, you gasp and press out a squeaky giggle, “oh my love, I did it!” you exclaim and begin kissing every inch of his face, “I, I did it. I knew I could do it. Oh my love, oh I love you. My love, you’re doing so well. It’s safe to come back to me, my love. Take as long as you need to, I’m right here.”

Yoongi is present for all of it. Physically he is gone, but his mind and heart are still with you. He doesn’t feel your kisses and loving touches at first. At least not on his skin, his heart still feels their effect. It swells in his chest and fills with the warmest of warmths. He knows that what you are speaking is the truth. It is safe to come back to you. There won’t be agony and guilt waiting for him, just love and the healing feeling of home.

“My beautiful, handsome love. Oh my Yoongi, I’m so happy and so proud and oh, I love you like crazy.”

Your words have an even stronger effect on his heart, affecting his mind as well and healing wounds so deep he thought they could never heal. When he lived a different life, being paralysed after his high meant that he slaughtered villages, left families ripped apart and caused nightmares to whoever was unlucky enough to survive. When he lied paralysed between the massacred bodies of his once pleasurable hunt, the guilt and pain of what he did made him cry and scream his lungs out until he stopped tensing up and he had to flee the scene with his limbs barely wanting to work. 

And now he knows that once he regains control of himself, there won’t be any bodies waiting for him. Just you. Perfectly fine and unharmed. 

The first kiss he feels on his skin is one at the tip of his nose. You trail them up the bridge of it and by the time, Yoongi feels your lips on his forehead the feeling in his skin returned completely. He can feel the wet mess on his lap, your warmth against his skin and your loving touch on his face. 

“___”, he croaks with his voice terribly ruined.

“Hey”, you speak gently, “welcome back. You did so well, I’m so proud”, you praise, tilting his head into a kiss. 

It focuses his attention on his lips and Yoongi does everything inside him to make them work first just so he can kiss you back. It happens soon. Yoongi regains control over his lips and finally kisses you back and it fills him with so much overwhelming happiness that his body regains control within the brink of a second. He loves you so much and he shows you that he does with his arms wrapping around you and his body melting with yours as he sits up and deepens the kiss. 

And he kisses you. Kisses you. Kisses you. And kisses you without wanting to stop. He kisses you with you on top of his lap, kisses you with his arms around you and his hands as deep in your hair as your texture allows it, kisses you with his chest flush against yours and his throat producing the most grateful, happy whimpers. 

He stands up with you in his arms, still kissing you. He keeps kissing you as his weakened knees drag him down and he falls onto the couch with you underneath him. And even then he keeps kissing you, needing you to understand what this meant to him. What you just healed. What you fucking mean to him. He swears that no kiss he shares with you is enough to show you what he feels for you. None of them is enough and so he has to keep kissing and kissing and kissing you until he finally finds the one worthy enough of his feelings. 

Quite frankly, he would have kissed you for countless more hours if you hadn’t broken it for him. You had to because he barely gave you time to breathe and you felt dizzy. 

“___”, his begs are instant, his lips search for your kiss but find your fingertips. The spot on your body which holds his heaven, paradise and dreams. Yoongi begins kissing them, doing so with his body trembling in emotion. 

“I can’t tell if you’re upset or not”, you whisper, watching him with overwhelming feelings in your chest. You always thought that he showed you every variation of kisses he had to offer, but the way he kissed you right now was unlike any kiss you ever shared. It left you feeling overwhelmed in the best ways possible.

He tries to answer you, but can’t. He is too overwhelmed by everything he feels.

“Take your time”, you encourage him, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers while his lips still kiss your other hand.

Yoongi tries again.

“The last time I felt this high, it was surrounded by dozens of massacred bodies”, he begins with his cheek seeking your palm. You help him find it, feeling your heart grow in love when he nuzzles into you, “I hated myself so much and wanted to die.”

“Yoongi my love”, you croak, cupping his other cheek as well.

“For hundreds of years I chased this high even if I hated it. For hundreds of years feeling it meant that I killed innocent people and left others traumatised and now you-” his voice breaks as his emotions overtake him.

He opens his eyes, giving view to the tears blurring his vision.

“I love you so much”, he chokes out shakily, “I-I want to know words more honest than love, but there are none. I love you so much more than love, I can’t f-find words. I feel so much for you”, he stutters and lets his head fall into the crook of your neck. He closes his arms around you, cradling you against him as best as the position allows him, “you’re the home I always longed for, ___”, he confesses, leaving you to spill tears because it felt so good to be loved by him.

“You’re my home too, Yoongi”, you say, hugging him against you as your nose nuzzles against his face, “god, you’re making me cry”, you confess in a chuckle, “I was planning for the evening to be fun and kinky and yet here we are sobbing again.”

“I feel so much, I can’t help it.”

“That’s okay, as long as we have each other we can be little crybabies after sex”, you say and making him laugh out a sob.

“Yeah”, he says, “ah fuck”, he gets out and laughs into the crook of your neck as much as he sobs.

You snicker and hug him closer, kissing his hair, “my Yoongi.”

Being with each other is the only thing that truly matters and if one was wondering, yes Yoongi will whine about everything which happened once he regained clarity again. It will come by morning after you and he shared cuddles in your bed and he wakes up to an empty bed and a magical note telling him that you were in your kitchen. He will find you kneeling by the couch as you attempt to fix the holes he ripped into the cushions and Yoongi will sit down next to said holes and give you the shiest glances you ever saw on him and mere seconds later, you and he will talk about last night. You will be terribly excited while Yoongi will whine at first about how reckless it was, but in the end he will giggle with you and tell you how nice you made him feel and that you healed wounds he never thought capable of healing. Then you will attempt to fix the couch together, stealing kisses and snuggles way too often as your giggles just didn’t seem to want to stop.

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi scenario #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #sub!yoongi #vampire!yoongi #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #sub!bts #vampire!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #sub!bangtan #vampire!bangtan #fanfic: sanguis duology

[heartsfourdazai]

hey how are you? I'm sorry to make this personal request but it's my current situation and I wanted to console myself with this in the arms of chuuya x reader

I would like to make a chuuya request with a s/o who went on a trip with her family to the beach, but her family is toxic and usually does things to humiliate her, talk about her body, etc. She pretends she doesn't care about it but it causes her several crises.

when your family is toxic, but you don't show that you care to him

chuuya :3

warnings: mention of a toxic relationships, reader uses she/her, insecurities, mention of body shame, mention of nudity, overall border-line fluff

a/n: hmmm, did i write away from the topic a little bit? maybe, and for that, i'm sorry!!! I did try to get all the components you have asked for anon; also, i'm sorry you're going through all of that! im here to talk if needed.

OKAY FIRST OF ALL-

this man is not having you lying to his face.

no. no. no. NO!

he's sees right through you, anything you say that you may think is believing-

*CHUCK IT OUT THE DAMN WINDOW!!*

but not in a mean way :3

erm anyways.

he never really cared that you rarely mentioned your family, until he asked if he could ever meet your parents.

you know, because since you two are dating- he just thought it would be respectful. on his part, at least.

you tried your best to change subjects, but he would catch on quickly and ask if anything wrong between you and your parents.

"hmm, ohno- we just argue sometimes- but that's just life; people argue and people fight- it's normal!"

now, your not wrong? but you seemed to be hiding something about your family to him.

he's literally in the mafia; if you tell him that they're fucking murders on the run and you don't want anyone to know about it- who the hell is chuuya going to tell, mori?? 💀💀

thats not the case, but that's all what chuuya thinks.

you told him a couple of days later you and your family are going on vacation, and he was happy for you.

you needed the break.

you work too hard at your job, and you deserve a vacation.

he would help you pack because none of your relatives helped? that's okay, he'll get you everything you need.

with a kiss on your lips he watched as you entered your parents car and off to your vacation...what he didn't expect was you coming home two days earlier then you said you would be.

"sweetheart, your back?" he would hug you, but you wouldn't hug back they way you usually do.

you dropped your bags on the floor of his doorstep with the door wide open..the time was currently 1:06am and chuuya was in PJ bottoms and a black t-shirt..his hair was tied in a small ponytail.

you hid your face in his neck as he hugged your8 tightly, expecting you to hug back.

you just stood there, arms draped by your sides and your suitcase on the ground.

he couldn't help but smell your hair, then kissed it as he rubs your back as he spoke; "babe, have you showered?"

you shake your head, still not responsive verbally.

he takes you inside his home, taking your bags in with you as he sat you down on the stairs steps; combing his fingers through your greasy hair.

he looked at your face; it was dry and your eyes were dark and your eyelids were purple.

he took your hand and kissed each of your knuckles as he saw tears fall from your eyes, however your face stayed the same.

"could i bathe you?" he would ask, and as he waited for your response, you nod.

gently, he would lift you from the steps and carry you to the bathroom.

he sat you down on the sink and started to run the water to a warm temperature for you to bathe in.

once he filled the tub with water and added a bath bomb of his own, he slowly turns to you and softly smiles; now standing in front of you.

"i'm going to undress you now, is that ok-"

before he could move you grabbed his wrist and looked at him. you seemed scared to show him your body as you tried to close your body together.

he gave you a sad frown, kissing your arm, up yo your shoulder.

"sweetheart, i have seen your naked multiple times, and i've had no problem with what i see; it's almost as if i have a gift from heaven itself.."

you stared into his blue eyes, thinking about what to do in the heat of the moment.

you guided his hand to the collar of your shirt, and nod slowly...allowing him to undress you.

in a way to make you comfortable, he would kiss your bare skin each time he would remove a piece of clothing from your body...

once your body was bare,, he would lift you up and gently play you in the tub and rub your shoulders.

couple of minutes went by, and chuuya had just dumped a handful of shampoo in his hand and started to message your skull with it.

"i take your vacation wasn't so...memorable?.."

he would ask softly, his eyes widening when he heats your soft sniffles.

"i'm'so sorry, my'love..." he would lean down and kiss your shoulders as you hide your face in your knees and sob.

chuuya would just rinse your hair after conditioner and held your body in his arms as you sobbed and sobbed for possibly 20 minutes.

as your crying settled, he would ask you what happened and if you would want to talk about it he would drain the water and help you change, of course leaving you if you would prefer to do it on your own.

sit on the bed, cuddled close together and talking about your family.

you would say how much they take you for granted, and talk about behind your back. your mother would body shame you, saying you eat either too much or too little.

your father would always make fun of your clothing choses and when your out, he would say your too fat for that bathing suit, or you could never fit in that dress unless you start caring about yourself.

both of them would also mention how much chuuya deserved better then to be with a sad, disappointed girl like you-

chuuya would cut your ranting off by kissing you on the lips for about a couple of minutes, a break for breathing if course, and would tell you no matter what your parents tell you, they're just jealous from what an amazing, beautiful women you have become ❤️

#DAMN #I LOVE CHUUYA SO MUCH #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya nakahara #chuuya bsd #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #my writing #๋࣭ ⭑ rue writes 🖋

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 7 - Date Activities

Slasher Handler Masterlist

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Non-descriptive mentions of torture, numbers and math, brief nudity, allusions to cannon-typical violence (Ghost's backstory), red herrings, bones

“Where ‘m I?” You slur around a dry tongue. Struggling to balance your weight on your hips, try to wrap your arms around yourself. Too late, you realize that there’s not enough slack on the chain to complete the motion. “Where‘re we?”

You want to scream. You want to cry and hide your face. You’re horrified to realize that you want Simon, your version of Simon, to materialize on the edge of the bed and comfort you. Unfortunately, all you can do is blink and sway.

“If you’re dizzy, you should lay back down.” Simon’s voice from that jaw-less skull is so disconcerting. In your nightmares, the skull mask sounds inhuman. Distorted, echoing. The burning bush overlap of every person who’s ever made you unsafe. Now, it’s just Simon’s measured speech.

But the rest of him is just as big and dangerous as you remember. He’s dressed like he expects to have to fight someone. His black jacket is covered by some kind of utility vest with a bunch of pockets. A handgun sits in a thigh holster, and on his other hip is the Big Knife. He’s not wearing his usual boots, these are heavier looking. If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d be terrified.

The masked killer on the other side of the room tilts his head and regards you for a long moment. The weird silence is such a Simon thing to do that you let yourself take your eyes off of him enough to take a quick look around the room. His chair is by the only door, a solid looking wood. To the left side of the room, there’s a bare folding table. On it, from what you can see, sit bottles of water, a bag of grapes, and some brown packaging. There’s another folding chair. At the foot of the mattress, there’s a huge, black hard case. The kind you’ve seen in action movies.

“Right now,” Simon finally answers. “You’re in the safe zone."

You blame the drugs in your system. It’s the only reason you can think of to look him in his eyes and blurt, “That’s not a fuckin’ answer, you cryptic asshole.”

You’re glad you’ve learned to read his eyes, because they’re amused when he stands. Even across the room, he towers over you. You clutch at the blanket to, what? Protect yourself? But Simon just crosses to the table and picks up a bottle of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. He chucks both of them at your legs before returning to his seat.

“Sip the water, eat slowly,” he instructs. “And I’ll tell you the rules of the game.”

You can’t think of a reason not to, so you struggle for a moment with the bottle cap before bringing the bottle to your lips. Your mouth feels gross and fuzzy, but the water is cool. The crackers, when you finally tear the packaging, are exactly what you needed. You wish you had some ginger ale.

“You told Kyle that I’d taken you hunting,” Simon starts. “But I hadn’t really. First time was a happy coincidence. Second time, you planned the date activity and I kind of hijacked it, yeah?”

If your neck wasn’t so thick, I’d strangle you, you think. You take another sip of water.

“So I thought to myself, what parts of hunting might my sweet, clever girl be interested in? How can I make sure she’s having just as much fun as me? And I remembered your little cubes.”

You narrow your eyes at that. The Rubik’s cubes were one of the first signs that he’d been breaking into your apartment. By now, he knows that you know how to solve them. Two weeks after he’d moved in next door, though, he hadn’t figured that out. It had made your skin crawl to come home from work and see the colors in the wrong places. Now, sometimes, he’ll present the cubes for you to solve while you talk. When you hand him the completed puzzle, he scrambles it up and hands it back.

“You didn’t kidnap me to make me solve a giant Rubik’s cube,” you say.

“No,” he answers. If you could see his face, you think he’d be smirking. “But the first part of the game is a puzzle. You have to get out of the room.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you want to scream. Instead, you slowly eat your way through the crackers and sip your water and think. The metal cuffs on your wrists are far enough apart that you can easily reach the locking mechanisms. They’re just tight enough that you can’t wiggle out, but they’re not uncomfortable. You can’t see where the chain to the ground is latched, so if there’s a clasp on that end, maybe this will be more simple than you think. You doubt it.

Daylight is streaming in through the window behind you. The shadows of the bars are very obvious, so the only way out of the room is going to be through the door. Simon’s sitting on the hinge side, but the only way you’ll get out before he blocks the way is probably if he’s on this side of the room. Facing the table, maybe. Preferably not standing.

Maybe you can strangle him with the chain.

You freeze as soon as the thought enters your mind, cracker halfway to your mouth. Wrapping the chain around the neck of that death mask only makes sense. But the idea of killing Simon makes you feel like vomiting.

When you look back at him, his eyes are as heated as they ever get. “Don’t worry, precious. I made you a promise last night. No killing, no wounds. No “Saw” puzzles. Just a little escape room. Told me you like those.”

Had you? That sounds like something you would have said, back in the beginning, to see what he would do. You take another sip to clear your mouth and settle your stomach. You’re already feeling better. “What are the rules?”

“You’ve got ninety minutes to get out of the cuffs and get into the chest. Once you’ve done both, the timer stops, and I explain the next part of the game.”

“Can I ask you questions once I get started?”

“Of course,” Simon says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You bite your lip. “When does the timer start?”

“You tell me when you start,” he says. “We’re not in any rush.”

“What’s in the chest?”

“That,” he answers, eyes crinkling with an obvious grin this time, “you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

That is not an answer you want to hear, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You rack your brain for any more questions. There are, of course, about a million. But the one that sticks out is, “Why were you so nice to me, last night? You could have just drugged me. You did, anyway.”

Simon doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks at you. He holds eye contact, so you don’t look away. After a full thirty seconds, he hums. “You said you missed me. That you wanted to be with me. You asked me to stay. I liked it.”

The way he says it, warm voiced and slow and soft, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There’s a spark of something in his eyes that you don’t want to examine. You’re too afraid to look away. But then he blinks and lets his eyes drift up and away from you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding whooshes out of you.

“Guess I’d better get started,” you say.

When you stand to the side of the bed, you find that you’re wearing one of his shirts, a pair of underwear, and a pair of socks. The room isn’t unbearably cold, but it’s not comfortable. The chain to your cuffs is much longer than you expected. You think it’s long enough for you to walk all the way around the room, unimpeded. If so, it’s long enough to get out the door, with a little extra slack. It’s locked to a loop bolted into the floor with a key lock.

You walk around to the table to get a good look at everything. There’s the water. The brown packages are four MREs, which you recognize from camping trips back when you were a teenager. There’s actually a few different fruits - grapes, apples, bananas, a bowl of chopped watermelon of all things. All of that is gathered on one side of the table. The side close to the empty chair has a manila folder. A glance inside shows printouts, three pages of text and forms, with some of the information redacted.

You let the folder fall closed and walk over to the chest. There’s two combination locks, each with four dials, one with numbers and the other with letters.

That’s two wrist cuffs, the lock for the chain, and two locks on the chest. If the cuffs share a key, this might be doable. If not… “Two or three keys, and two combinations?” you ask.

“Two keys, two combinations,” Simon confirms.

You do a quick calculation in your head. “A little more than 20 minutes per puzzle. That’s pretty tight, but doable. What happens if I don’t get it done in time?”

You turn to look at Simon and catch him looking at your legs. When he meets your eyes, his are smirking again. “You lose time in the second part of the game. And you’re going to want that time.”

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you walk to the wall across from the table. There are some cracks in the paint, a couple of scattered, discolored spots. But it doesn’t seem deliberate. So you leave it and head back to the table. The folder is tempting, but obvious, so you start with the fruit.

Bag of grapes, three apples, five bananas. You open the package of watermelon and poke around in it. No keys. Not in the bag of grapes, either. The apples and bananas are whole. But one of the bananas has a series of numbers followed by Xs written on it in black ink. 11 21 32 XX. You pry it from the others, carefully, and take it over to the folder.

The metal chair is cold when you use your hand to pull it out. You turn back to the bed and grab the thin blanket to cover it, then have an idea. You shake the pillow from the pillowcase and strip the sheets from the bed. No key, but the pillow has another set of digits and Xs written on it. 7 13 26 XX. You lift the mattress to look under it, but there’s nothing else, so you let it fall.

“Can I have a pen?” you ask, absently. You’re surprised when Simon plucks one from his vest and holds it out for you. You snort as you walk over to take it. “Can I have the key to the cuffs, while you’re at it?”

Simon’s eyes do something complicated as you take the pen. Then he tilts his head, reaches up, and pulls a thin chain from under his shirt. On it dangle two keys, one a tiny cylinder of a thing, the other a proper key. He lets them both drop against his collarbones.

You dart your eyes between the keys and his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“’D prefer if you opened the folder,” he says with a shrug. “But I do have the keys. Cost you… 15 minutes for one.”

“Did you just make that number up?” You laugh. Then it hits you and you glare. “You’re distracting me and stalling.”

“You asked,” he points out, chuckling as you whirl on your heel to go back to the folder.

That is neither disputable or worth responding to, so you don’t. You drop into your seat and open the folder. The first thing you do is jot down the numbers and where you found them on the inside. None of the numbers are repeated, so you leave them for now. Then you pick up the first sheet of paper.

It’s the service record for one Simon J. Riley.

A lot of the information is redacted. Most of the page is blacked out lines. But you see that he enlisted in 2001, had some kind of redacted gap from 2003 to 2004, then resumed his service. Then it jumps out at you. 2007, KIA. You can’t help but look up at him, and find him watching you already. You scour the page for any other information, but there’s nothing. So you flip the page.

This one is some kind of tactical… memorandum? Too much is redacted for you to be able to get much information about who the report is for, so you just start reading.

Mission to Mexico. Drug cartel, name redacted. Compromised leadership. Someone got double crossed. You start feeling sick at the description of torture, but most of the details are obscured, so you push through. Then a line makes you pause, and you have to re-read it. You flip back and forth between Simon’s service record and the report.

“Simon,” you say slowly. Your stomach is really twisted in knots, now. You’re afraid to look at him, but you make yourself meet his eyes. “Were you buried alive?”

He says, “Yes.” Your heart breaks.

The next few lines are blacked out. You really don’t want to ask, but, “How did you get out?”

“Blood, sweat, and tears,” he says, vaguely. “Probably not something you want to think about, sweet thing. Don’t want to waste time.”

“I need to pause the game,” you tell him. “because I just read that you were buried alive.”

“An explanation will cost you an hour,” Simon offers. His eyes are crinkled like he’s smiling.

“Simon.” Your voice is sharp to your own ears. “What the fuck?”

“Tick tock.”

You know from past experience that getting any more information from him will be like getting blood from a stone. So you make yourself read on. There’s a confusing bit about… brainwashing? Without the full context the report is a mess. Multiple civilian casualties, then… mission objective complete? Lots of blocked out text, surrounding a single word. ROBA.

You jot that on the lower half of the folder, then skim through the documents again for any numbers. Besides the years in the service record, there’s nothing that jumps out. So you jot down 2001, 2003, 2004, and 2007.

You decide this is a good enough place to start with the puzzles. The numbers on the pillow seem simple enough. You’re not good at math, but you’re good at patterns. You eliminate a few possible addition patterns, recognize it probably isn’t pure multiplication. Considering who Simon is, you gamble that there’s probably no fractions or decimals involved, so it’s probably going to be some combination of multiplication and subtraction. And as soon as you think of that, you see it. Times two, minus one. So the last number is 49.

The the second puzzle, from the banana, tickles your brain because you know you’ve seen it before. The numbers aren’t doubling. And it’s not simple addition. Adding in sequence seems to work. Adding 10 to 11 makes 21, then adding 11 works to get to 32. Plus 12 would make the next digits 44. That seems almost too easy, but these kinds of puzzles usually are. And it is a possible answer, so you write it down.

The only other potential numbers are the dates. If you pick the last four digits, that’s 1347. Another code. Unless it’s 2222. Or 0000. Or 2020...

Now you have a few potential 4 digit codes, and a possible 4 letter code.

“Time check?”

Simon looks at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes left.”

You hum an acknowledgment, and flip the pages in the folder, and the folder itself. There’s nothing else, so you leave the papers on the table and take your notes over to the crate.

Simon makes an interested noise through his nose. “That was fast.”

“Haven’t found the keys, yet,” you answer, “Gotta get a move on.”

You start with the letters, because it seems straightforward. And then you’re a bit stumped, because the lock doesn’t have a B available in the third slot. Or an A in the first. So you’ll have to find a cypher or something before you can tackle this one. Disappointing, but you still have time. You move over to the other lock and hope you have what you need. 4944 doesn’t work. Neither does 4449, 9444, or 4494. 2222, 0000, and 1347 are all a bust. You make your way through 1374, 1437, 1473, 1734, and 1743 before you give up.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

Crouched as you are, you have a new vantage point to consider. You scuttle your way under the table without putting your knees on the ground, and look at the underside. Sure enough, there’s a doodle of two bananas with a pillow in between. The dates were most likely a red herring. Or they’re the cypher to the letters.

“I got the numbers wrong,” you grumble.

“You’re a smart girl,” Simon says. “You can figure it out. Fifty-seven minutes.”

You scoot from under the table and make to stand up, but something on your leg catches your eye. Dropping onto the now bare mattress, you lift the edge of your shirt, Simon’s shirt, and see writing on your inner thigh, upside down so you can see it easily. Four digits, 01 10, and another fucking banana.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan.

Simon snickers from his chair.

You grab your folder and pen and jot the new string of numbers down. 01 10 11 21 32 XX. Obviously, adding in sequence no longer works. It’s gotta have something to do with the number of 1s in the sequence, so you try to let go of math related assumptions. The first two numbers swap their digits. Then two ones. Then a two and a one. Then a three and a two. Zero plus one is one. One plus zero is one. One plus one is two. Two plus one is three. Three plus two is… five as the first digit? Sliding the tens to the ones place is one, zero, one, two… three. 53.

Banana pillow banana, then, is 5493.

Before you go to check, you stand up to lift your shirt up to look at your belly, then higher to look at the skin of your breasts. You ignore the low wolf-whistle Simon makes to do a quick inspection. Nothing jumps out, so you let the shirt drop a bit and pull your underwear away from your hips. You feel a bit silly staring at your own crotch, but it’s Simon so you figure nothing’s really off limits. And you’re rewarded with the discovery of a piece of tape with a doodle of a heart on it. The tape is garment quality, which explains why you didn’t feel it.

The heart doesn’t really give you much, but you pull it out and slap it on the folder anyways.

“Forty-nine minutes,” Simon says when you look up at him.

Back at the chest, you click the dials to the number sequence you identified and grin to yourself when the lock gives an easy snick as it opens. The other lock is still a mystery, but you’ve got one down, and still plenty of time to request the cuff key if needed.

You turn to look up at Simon from where you’re crouched. “How much does a hint cost?”

He pretends to think for a moment. “For that lock? Flash me your tits again.”

“Nasty,” you roll your eyes as you stand up. You lift the shirt up to your neck and are startled when he sits forward to rest his hands on your hips. The skull mask gets even closer, and then he’s kissing over your heart, eyes locked on yours. He leaves his lips against you through his balaclava, thumbs rubbing over the place where your hips meet your belly.

You stare down at that bone face from less than two inches away. You used to hope it was plastic. Now you know for a fact that it is not.

And then he lets you go and sits back, crossing his arms over his large chest. He looks at his watch.

“Forty-six minutes.”

You gape at him. “Where’s my clue?”

“That was your clue.”

“That’s the least helpful clue ever,” you complain.

“You found all the other ones,” Simon points out. “But I’ll tell you the solution if you let me fuck you.”

You scoff. “I don’t need you to tell me. I can figure it out.”

“I know,” Simon’s grin is easier to make out this close. “My clever girl.”

You grumble, but you can’t help but grin as you try to think of what the four letter sequence could be. On a whim, you try TITS. The letters are present, but that’s apparently not the combo. Heart has too many letters, but maybe has something to do with feelings. The lock doesn’t have the right letters for LOVE, forward or backward. Same with HATE. You try SRSK for Simon Riley the Serial Killer, but that’s not it. You’re on a date, so you try combining his initials with yours where it fits, but that’s not it either. In a fit of pique, you try TITS again.

Then you take a deep breath and think about Simon and you. Your relationship. DATE, KILL, and CARE are a bust. AMOR, EROS, HOLD, BOND. None of them work.

You’re getting antsy because you still need at least the key for your handcuffs and you're running out of time, but you make yourself take a deep, slow breath. SLOW and DEEP don’t work. And then you pause and look up at Simon’s face. At the skull.

BONE.

Nope. But it was worth a shot.

But thinking about skulls and bones makes you think of skeletons. Dead bodies. Cemeteries. Simon’s service record, breaking your heart.

BURY.

The lock clicks open.

You’re giddy as you swing the lid of the chest open. And, almost immediately, you scramble backwards, shoulders colliding painfully with Simon’s knees. Without thinking, you clamber up until you’re perched in his lap, staring in horror at the human skull grinning up at you from atop black cloth.

A piece of tape is on the right temple. In Simon’s scrawl, it simply says BRANDON.

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #cod #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #dark fic #simon riley x you #slasher handler #simon riley x you smut #manic pixie dream ghost

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

[emmaiscool22]

Secrets in Alabasta

straw hats x strawhat!reader (luffy x reader)

gender neutral reader

Character is named Lucky for a reason! Please let me know if you want more from this same character! 

This is my first fanfiction ever, so please give me some feedback and be nice!

Warnings: angst?

written on: 3/22/24

word count: 1091

I stand in the middle of the vast desert, watching as two figures dig into the hot, dry earth. The sun beats down mercilessly, casting harsh shadows and making the air shimmer with heat waves. As the day bled into night, the guilt begins to consume me. I keep staring out into the desert waiting for him to find me. The sand behind me begins to shift as Luffy lays next to me trying to catch my eyes. I hate how well he can read people. 

“Everyone is starting to head to bed,” Luffy says, “what are you still doing out here? 

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything besides the truth that is clawing at my throat. Luffy’s eyes move from my own to my hands, which dig in the sand, hoping to bury my secret and my guilt. His hand grabs mine. “What are you still doing out here?” He repeats. I shake my head again and kneel over, the bile in my throat becoming too much as I throw up into the sand. Tears begin to leak out of my eyes. 

“Luffy,” I sob, “I can’t do this anymore!”

He stares at me.

“I need to tell everyone something!” I choke out.

He grabs my hand and pulls me up, leading me back to the worn down, broken home we are staying in while in Yuba. I lock eyes with Toto and he glares at me. He knows my secret, I think. I close my eyes and look away, as I let Luffy lead me into the house. The door slams open and six pairs of eyes are on the both of us. Luffy lets go of my hand, going to stand next to Sanji. 

“Lucky, has something to tell us.” Luffy exclaims dropping onto the nearest bed. 

I glance back at the door. I should run, I think. 

“What’s wrong Lucky-swannnnn!” Sanji spins towards me with hearts in his eyes. 

I could feel my hands start to shake, the sand I was previously holding raining onto the ground. My eyes follow it. I look back up and lock eyes with Vivi. She looks concerned, waiting for me to reveal my truth. I look away quickly, glancing at Chopper, Zoro, Nami, and Usopp. I take a deep breath. Chopper bounds towards me, holding out a handkerchief. I did not even realize I started crying again.

“So,” Nami juts out her hip, “what is it?” 

I move my gaze over to Luffy, who seems to be falling asleep. My gaze blurs and I listen to the sound of digging outside. The guilt begins to bubble up. I feel like throwing up again.

“There is a reason people call me Lucky,” my words come out involuntarily, “it’s a codename of sorts. My father used to call me that growing up and it stuck. His little Lucky-Gator is what he called me. But it's also a codename to my codename, Miss St. Patrick’s Day! Get it? Lucky! My real name is Y/N!” I cry out the truth. But I know there is more to say. My voice begins to waver as everyone's eyes start looking around at each other, confused at my rambling. Before anyone could interrupt, I begin to speak again. 

“I told you that I was in Shell’s Town to claim Buggy’s bounty. I wasn't lying about that, I mean at least partially. I was there for Buggy. More specifically, I was there to kill him. My - uh- my boss wanted me to kill him. But then you were there Luffy. And I felt like it was fate when you asked me to join your crew. I needed to get out of there.”

Zoro speaks up, “You aren’t making any sense.”

I grab at my hair, tugging it. “I know! I know! I am sorry I never told you. But I was so happy to get out. I am - uh- was an agent for Baroque Works, just like Vivi. Vivi didn’t know who I was because he didn’t want anyone to know me. I was a secret. That is why I don’t have a bounty. I should have one with the amount of people I have killed and the things I have done. But he worked with the government to let me off, because I am his daughter!"

Luffy sat up. Vivi asks, “Lucky, who is your father?”

I ignore her question and kept on rambling, “I promise I have no idea what he is doing here. When Vivi told us that he was here, I was just as confused as you all were. I haven’t contacted him since Shell’s Town and it was about -”

“Lucky,” Luffy interrupted, “who is your father?”

“Crocodile” I whispered, “I swear to you that I am not working with him. He doesn’t even know I am here with all of you. I know you want to kill him, Luffy. I don’t think I can stop you from doing that. Once he finds out I am here, he will have agents coming to collect me.” 

I step back towards the door. My hand on the knob. 

“That is why I am leaving you all here in Yuba.” 

Luffy shot up at that. I raised my hand towards him, signaling him to stop. 

“This isn’t up for debate Luffy,” I start, “I know you are my captain, and I should listen to you, but I need to leave you all here. My father won’t hurt me, but if he sees me with you, he will hurt you. I am going to go find him and I will meet back up with you all at some point, if you still want me.” 

I glance around one more time. Chopper and Usopp share a scared look, and I can't read Zoro or Nami. Sanji lights a cigarette, and finally I look at Vivi. She has tears running down her face. I open the door stepping out into the night, the sand crunching underneath my feet. 

“We will find you, Y/N,” Luffy exclaimed, "You are my nakama!"

I turned and began walking into the night. I could feel a smile pulling at my face at the thought of Luffy using my real name. No one had called me Y/N in years. At that moment, I realize that the desert held more secrets than could ever be unearthed. And as I turn and walk away, I knew I would forever be haunted by the man digging in the desert. I know I have to free him from his chore. More importantly, I need to free myself from my father’s grasp.

#one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece imagine #alabasta #angst #one piece x y/n #roronoa zoro #sanji #strawhats #usopp #nami #sir crocodile #warlord #fanfic #luffy x reader

[piratesfromspace]

After the rain (141xReader)

Pairing: Reader x Soap (& implied Reader x 141)

Rated: Mature

Word count: 900

Summary: After being kidnapped and rescued, Rain needs to make sure Soap is still alive

Note: In the same universe as my "Rain or Shine" fic, it is the epilogue of the part 4. Some people requested this chapter, and I was happy to write a little something to offer some comfort to our poor Soap. Reader callsign is "Rain", she's bi and autistic (I am autistic myself).

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, aftermath of torture, medical setting, happy ending (kinda)

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4

Rain has a hard time opening her eyes. She’s not quite sure where she is, she’s slow to wake up, her brain still foggy from the sleeping pills. But then she moves in the bed, and everything starts hurting. Her muscles are so sore, bruises are painfully blooming under her scratched skin. Her head is heavy, throbbing. She feels like she’s been run over by a humvee. With the pain, everything comes back to her in a second. She rises with a gasp, a shot of adrenaline wringing her guts to the point she thinks she’s gonna puke. 

The light of day is peaking through the half-opened curtains of her room. She’s back on base, and everything is so vividly painful she’s sure it can’t be a dream. The memory of the past few days invades her - their capture, Johnny’s sacrifice to protect her, her crawling on the floor to rest her cheek against his bloody leg when their captor finally stopped. The sudden thought that Soap might not have survived the torture is suffocating her, she can’t breathe, it’s breaking her mind and her heart. Last she saw him he was laying on the heli floor surrounded by medics. 

A flash of white in the corner of her eyes attracts her attention when she finally gathers enough strength to get out of her bed. There is a crisp white strip of paper on her night-stand. It only says “he’s OK” in black ink, and she instantly recognizes Simon’s angular writing. Soap has made it. Tears wet her cheeks without her realizing she’s crying. 

—-

She tucks her fists inside the pocket of her hoodie. A black one that belongs to one of the boys, she can’t really tell which one. She keeps her head down, doesn’t want to cross the panicked gaze of colleagues at her face. She’s sporting various scratches, a mean bruise on the side of her jaw, her skin has a sickly yellow-ish undertone - she looks like shit and she knows it. 

She crosses the base in a hurried bee-line for the medical bay. She probably should call up her captain for further instruction, report to debrief or go see a doctor. But the only thing on her mind is finding Soap. She had always liked him - it was hard not to, he was funny, kind, quite handsome, always laughing. But she knew that he was growing obsessed with her, and it had frightened her at first. Situations like those could easily delve into unpleasant territories for everyone involved. Except it was Soap, smart-ass Soap, kind-hearted Soap, and he made it work even when it was obvious he was sad Rain had chosen Simon instead of him. After Siberia, things didn't really change, they rather shifted. The group was tighter, Rain was not shy with her attraction to the other guys, with her attraction to him. She let Johnny more into her bubble, into her heart. 

And here she is, the wet tracks of tears drying on her cheeks as she leaps through long corridors in search of Soap, when she should get checked for her own injuries, when she should maybe not stay alone like this. Her brain is still drowning in diluted stress hormones and the end trail of painkillers, the mix giving her a distant headache that will probably force her down in a couple hours. For now, she persists. 

When she finally finds him, she’s simultaneously disappointed and relieved to find him alone. Ghost, Gaz and Price must be somewhere else, maybe they just went out for a quick break. She doesn’t know how much time she has on her own with Soap, before someone, a nurse, or one of the boys, comes back. He looks like he’s sleeping. Bandages are wrapped around all his visible limbs, snaking around fingers, his wrists, part of his right arm. Around his head also, his already short hair clearly shaved for access to wounds. One of his eyes is hidden by a plastic shell. His lips are swollen, split in a few places. Skilled hands have been at work here, in dressing his wounds, wiping out dried blood, setting up electrodes and drips. It’s easy to forget how simple it is to destroy, and how labor-intensive it is to heal. The regular bip of the heart monitor is the thing that prevents her from spiraling further down. Alive. Her sergeant is alive. No need to explore the devastating thought of him being gone. 

She climbs on the bed, finds a place against him. His warmth makes her want to cry again. Her own scratched fingers hover over his cheekbones - the skin there is purple - then over his neck, she needs to feel his pulse under her scorched skin. Alive. She tucks her face next to his shoulder, tries to find the familiar smell under the antiseptic. Rain holds him the best she can without risking hurting him more, and decides that’s all she wants to do for the time being. 

That’s how the boys find them when they arrive some time after that. They had been looking for her after Simon had discovered her empty bed. They weren’t really scared. They knew she would be here. Where else? They swore to take care of each other - and that’s what they will keep doing, no matter what.

MASTERLIST

#ghost x reader #cod fanfiction #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #poly 141 #141 fanfic #task force 141 #141 x reader #tf 141 #poly tf141 #polyamory #hurt/comfort #whump writing

[barcalover86]

Hey! I love your work <3

Can I ask for a Gavi x reader where the reader is a dancer and she had a horrible season because she always got placed worse than before and actually breaks down in front of Gavi thinking she is the worst dancer but he comforts him and telling her she is not bad at all?

Thank you<33

Disappointed - Pablo Gavi

If this is about you, I'm sorry to hear that. If anyone finds themselves in this type of story, I'm with you! As an performance athlet I know that is hard, but enjoy the moments!!! It's hard and I know it, but if you smile through the pain, it's going to get easier. I promise you that!

I don't know how a dancer season goes and if here's about balet or another type of dancing, but I'm going to what I know. Enjoy!

You arrived home after a big fight with your couch. She said you were bad and lately you've been having a lot of troubles with dancing right. Forgetting what you had to do because of all the pressure, wasn't helping you with the bad performance you had in the last competitions.

You were mad. You trained hard and sacrificed everything for this sport to get nowhere. It felt like in this moment, all you wanted to do is forget about dancing.

When Gavi saw your tired and frustrated face, he was concerned about you.

"Que pasa, amor?"

"Bad training."

Your reply was so dry, making Pablo even more concerned about you. He knew the life of an athlete wasn't easy at all, but it shouldn't be something where you just can't find happiness anymore.

He signed you to come sit in his arms, bow cuddling while asking what happened. His hands were in your hair, making you relax a bit.

You didn't speak at first, but after you were more comfortable, you felt like you had to free out your negative emotions.

You told him about how you are disappointed because of your performance and how you can't do anything to improve it, feeling like nothing worked.

He listened to you, until you were done.

"First, amorcito, stop crying, ok?" he raised your chin to look into his eyes. "Second, you are one of the nest dancer I've ever seen-"

"You just say that because I'm your girlfriend"

"Que- no! Exactly because I'm your boyfriend, I have to tell you my true opinion and to be honest with you. Listen up, cariño. I love the way you dance. You make it so emotional, and every time I see you, I get lost in your moves. You have a talent, and it would be a waste if you want to give up. Don't get me wrong here, I will support you through every decision, but you have to know that in this life, nothing is easy. I myself have some bad games, but they make me better next time. Maybe you don't see it yet, but promise you, in time, you will. Maybe for you, this season was bad, but the next one will be better. You know why? Because you didn't give up! Because you are brave, strong, talented and amazing. If you feel like you are worth nothing at the team you are, we can change it. You have to be happy and exited when you go to training. Being comfortable around people will make you perform better, preciosa. Si, my sweet dancer?"

You looked at him with tears in your eyes, nodding.

"You are amazing, Pablo. Thank you.."

He kissed your lips. "Now we can relax a bit after our hard session."

"How was your training?"

He laughed. "Oh you would love to hear this."

2nd Masterlist

#fc barca #fc barcelona #football #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #gavi fluff #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #boy pablo #pablo gavi x you #pablo x reader #pablo gavi fluff

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🌸 Always

Jason is an asshole to you, Eddie can't stand seeing you dragged down by Carver and vows to show you how amazing you are.

Warnings; 18+, minors dni, Angst, tw for mental abuse.

This is a very personal story for me and I would just like to say if anyone is going through events as depicted in this story then please know you're not alone, you deserve to be happy and loved.

Please speak to someone you trust about what is happening.

Help is out there and you don't need to suffer in silence ❤️

🌸

Eddie doesn't give a shit that Jason is your boyfriend. He doesn't give a shit if he has to step on Jason's toes to make his interest in you crystal clear.

He sees the way Jason treats you and it pisses him off, you're the sweetest girl in Hawkins, kind as hell and so beautiful that it makes Eddie ache.

You were so much more yourself when Jason wasn't around.

However, when he was it was like a light switch flipped and you became quiet and distant. Withdrew into yourself.

He heard Jason shout at you, call you names or make every little thing your fault.

It chipped away at your confidence and Eddie hated it.

When he saw you crying two months ago because Jason had made you upset he had took it upon himself to make you smile.

He picked up some wildflowers for you and when he showed them to you, your eyes light up.

You kissed him on the cheek and he was a goner for you right then and there. From that moment made it his mission to show you how fucking amazing he thought you were.

He called you princess. That was his name for you and you alone.

" Good morning princess"

"Anything for you princess"

Jeff and Gareth teased the shit out of him, even Dustin got in on the act- total butthead.

But he didn't care as he was smitten and no matter how cool or collected he acted or tried to hide how into you he was, when you batted your eyes or smiled sweetly he would melt into a puddle

He loved when your smile was directed his way, he loved the way you laughed and how shy you would be in his presence.

It took you a little bit to overcome that shyness, to come out of the shell that Jason had made you retreat into but now you chatted away to him, completely relaxed in his presence.

You open up more about the things Jason says, how that makes you feel.

When Jason made you cry he's there every time drying your tears and making you laugh by being his usual dramatic self, his confident swagger and dimpled smile, big, kind brown eyes.

"I like being with you Eddie, feel like I can be myself, no bullshit, no happy couple show with Jason or pretending his shitty words don't hurt me" you murmur as he strums on his guitar, determined to teach you.

"I will always be here princess. None of the things Jason says to you is true. None of it. You're so amazing, it would take me all day to list all the incredible things about you.

You're special, you're no burden or waste of space. Never, ever listen to that asshole because he's talking shit, I'm here and if you need any help, anything then just say"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you cuddle into Eddie's chest as he strokes your hair.

Eddie wants to say more, a lot more.

He doesn't want to lose your friendship though. Yeah, he's rapidly falling for you and he's made how he feels obvious but he would never ever force you into anything.

If you wanted to be with him then you would tell him. One Day.

Then that day arrives quicker than he would ever expect. Jason comes storming up to him with rage in his features.

"What the fuck did you say to yn? She just dumped me on Friday, you pathetic freak. I bet it's you running your mouth in her ear"

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I didn't say anything you piece of shit. I listened to her, and treated her like a human being instead of dirt as you do, she deserves miles better than you asshole"

Jason's sneering laugh twists him up inside.

"Like she would ever date you freak. Shit, this is why you've been hanging around. Stepping on my toes. Because you love her?"

Eddie's vicious glare renders Jason silent.

"I didn't give a fuck about stepping on your toes dude. You had an amazing, kind and beautiful girl, so special and you treated her like shit. She deserves to be treated like the princess... the queen like she is, you stupid fuck"

"I'm not a violent guy dude but if you don't get out of my sight then your losing teeth or digits, take your pick" he hears a gasp behind him.

When he turns around you're beaming at him, your arms slip around him and you will him close. Your lips meet his and he doesn't even hear Jason's yell of shock as he kisses you back.

All he sees are fireworks in his head, relishes the feel of you in his arms and your soft lips on his.

When you pull away and Jason has stormed of seething and ranting about freaks, he strokes your cheek, gazing at you in reverence.

"Eddie Munson, I love you. I love how I feel when I'm with you I love your gorgeous brown eyes and the way you laugh and your music and every little thing about you"

Tears roll down your cheeks.

"Jason made me feel like a burden. You make me feel loved. Like I'm home" he kisses your forehead and leans back down to gently your lips.

"I'll always make you feel safe and loved princess. Always, I love you"

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie angst #eddie munson angst

[doniveatry]

No one ever believes or imagines that they will no longer be able to see the love of their life. Because, even if you say you are ready for it if one day it happens. We are never ready.

I never was.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the white ceiling of the hospital, the curtains were closed but the light of the cloudy day still came in. I knew that after this all there would be was chaos. But... I foolishly thought he would be there. Holding my hand when I woke up.

I never imagined a life without him, because that didn't exist.

Denji sobbed on the side of my bed, a muffled, dry, emotionless sob.

I looked at him with fear even though my body felt numb. I looked in the room for his black hair between those two blonde hairs, but it wasn't there. "Where is he here?" I asked, now aware that I had an IV in my hand.

Denji looked up. Biting his lower lip without saying a single word. And I asked again. “Where is he?” Power looked down at me, curled up against the bed near my feet.

She spoke. “Don't be angry..” I was about to get out of bed when I heard the door to the hospital room open and I could see the red-haired woman enter.

I walk at a slow pace, killing myself with every step, the heel of his shoe echoes in the uncertainty of my silence. Power and Denji acted silently and simply walked away, leaving us alone. There, with her there.

—Hayakawa. —She began once sitting on the stool next to the bed, casually observing the polish on her nails. —Hayakawa died.—

Makima had looked up for a moment, over her bangs and her thick eyelashes that fluttered so often to make him fall for her charms. I never knew if it was love or admiration that he felt for her, but there it was.

My heart clenched as my breathing became labored. —Oh and don't worry, although it has left us a lot of work, we already solved it.—

I turned my face to the opposite side where she was, I didn't want her to see me feel miserable. He was not there.

A lump tightened my throat while my lip trembled, I still did not have complete sensitivity in my body and I could not move. The hiccups and choking didn't take long to come as I felt trapped in that hospital room with the curtains closed.

A cold ran through my body as I was bursting into tears. I could never tell him that I loved him. I thought I would see him that same afternoon as we had agreed. That he would resign and we would escape there.

But it was no longer there.

Makima smiled as she got up from her seat, she didn't seem to care about trying to comfort me or something, she reached the window and opened the curtains, letting in the little light that came in due to the thick clouds that covered the sky.—Oh! Look, it's snowing!

Was this what it felt like to lose someone?...

[...]

The following days my recovery was progressive. Even though they forced me to take the pills I had to take, because I refused to take them, I kept going.

We couldn't offer him a proper funeral. They told us they needed his body as proof, proof of what? The government probably wanted to keep it because it was already in possession.

Was he still human when he died?

Or have you suffered? According to Denji, who witnessed his death, he claimed that he was very emotional and said nonsense that he was happy to play with him.

But still every night I torment myself, is this how we end? buried? I don't want them to lock him underground. He wouldn't have liked it. Much less being under observation with scientists. Or worse, burned somewhere.

Even though his last moments alive were hell, he still didn't deserve it. He was just a kid who took care of other kids.

Every night, after tormenting myself and after losing sleep, I remember it.

Him smoking on the balcony, always turning his back on me, not letting me go out with him because he wanted me to live longer, or not letting me help him bandage himself when some contract with his demons required pieces of meat.

But what was always there was the feeling that at any moment he would return and open the door of the house, announcing himself and being happily received.

He was always there, because I refused to accept that he was no longer there.

#aki hayakawa #Englishisnotmyfirstlanguage! #hayakawa aki #aki x reader #csm aki #chainsaw man denji #aki hayakawa x reader #chaisawman #csm x reader #csm manga #aki chainsaw man

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 8

The ring of the doorbell made her look up from the book she was reading. She was alone at the house, while Kev was at the Alibi for the game and V was at the Gallaghers. She really didn’t feel like see anyone that day. She had spent the previous evening crying after what happened with Lip. She had spent almost a year with him, practically everyday, and she felt so stupid for even missing him after what he said.

The doorbell ring went off again.

“Seriously?” She muttered throwing her book away, making her way towards the door. As she opened she saw Ian standing in front of her.

“Hey, Des,” he greeted her with his usual gentle smile.

“Ian,” she said, “W-What are you doing here?”

“V told us that you weren’t feeling well,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“You are very sweet, Ian, but I’m… I’m alright,” she said trying to show her best smile, but she could already feel her eyes sting with tears.

“Really?” He asked observing her, already knowing the answer, so Desna let go of her tears, shaking her head.

“No,” she said walking back inside, but she didn’t closed the door so that Ian could enter as she set on the couch with her head in her hands. As she cried she felt him sitting next to her, rubbing her back with his hand.

“Did he tell you what happened?” She asked, and he nodded his head.

“After having screaming and talking me to go fuck myself, yeah, yeah he told me,” Ian answered, before taking a breath, “Hey you did what you thought was right, you’ve made the right choice.”

“It’s just…” she said as other tears slipped from her eyes, “How can I stop liking him so much?” Ian observed her for a moment, then he got closer to her to hold her into a hug. He let her hug him and cry against him for some minutes, before she moved back.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she passed her hands on her cheeks to dry her tears, then she gave out a shaky laugh, “I’m going to be okay, go back at your house.”

“I can stay here, if-“ but they turned as the heard the doorbell ring going off again.

When she opened she was surprised to see Carl on her porch.

“Carl…” she muttered before she saw Lip running towards her house.

“Carl, I told you no, come on,” he said before his eyes met with hers. Her breath stuck in her throat as they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I told him not to come here, but-“

Desna shook her head, “No, it’s fine,” she said before kneeling, so that she could look Carl in the eyes.

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” She asked with a small smile.

“You don’t feel well, or are you crying?” He asked observing her face and she was quick to gave out a little laugh.

“I’m… just a bit sad,” she said trying her best to keep her tears in.

“Why don’t you come to my house?” He asked, “It’s going to be fun.”

Her eyes shot briefly on Lip, who was biting his lips, before she turned to Carl, who spoke again, “It’s a shame for you to stay here. You’re too pretty to cry.”

At that she let out a fond laugh, covering mouth as she look the eleven years old, who looked at her, waiting for her answer.

“If I come,” she asked drying a tear that fell on her cheek, “Will you distract me?” on Carl’s face appeared a giant smile, “Of course! I told you I can make you happy,” She ruffled his hair.

“Okay then, go take the keys on the kitchen counter for me, then we go,” He nodded getting inside her house. She passed a hand through her hair as she noticed Lip got closer.

“You don’t have to, if-“ but she shook her head as she crossed her arms.

“No it’s okay,” she said nervously, “I love Carl and your family, I don’t want to become a stranger to them.”

It was so strange having him that close, knowing that she could not touching him or kissing him anymore. All she wanted was to have him close to her again. And she coursed at herself for that.

“Des-” but he got interrupted by Ian and Carl coming out of the house.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said caressing Carl’s hair as he lead the way towards the Gallagher’s house.

“I‘ve melted two superheroes with a lighter today,” Carl said proudly, “Do you want to see them?”

“Of course,” she answered with a chuckle.

As they entered the house, Desna noticed Steve and Fiona setting the new TV, as Veronica was sitting on the couch next to Debbie.

“Shit, it’s beautiful,” Desna said observing the TV, it surely must have worth a lot.

“Des,” Fiona said turning to her before enveloping her into a hug, “I’m so glad you came.”

“Carl promised me I would have fun, right buddy?” She said looking down at him that was already observing her. The boy gave a single nod, “Right!” He said before running up the stairs, “Wait here I’ll bring the superheroes.”

Desna shook her head before V reached out her hand towards her, to make her sit next to her.

“How you feeling, sweetie?” She asked with a hint of worry.

“I’m okay,” she promised after having shared another look with Lip.

“Fi,” she said trying to not look at him as much as she could, “Can I take a glass of water?”

“Sure, Des,” she answered with a gentle smile, “The house is yours,” Desna muttered a ‘thank you’ as she stood up to go into the kitchen. As she was filling a glass of water, she heard steps behind her, already knowing who it was.

“Thank you for coming,” Lip said from few feet away from her, “Carl really wanted for you to be here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” she answered shaking her head as she took a sip. Between them fell the silence. The air was tense, it would have been clear to anybody.

“What? This is how it is going to be from now on?” At his question she closed her eyes, “You’re not even talking to me anymore?”

Desna closed her eyes trying not to cry again, “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” she said before trying to get past him, but he grabbed her arm, making her look at him.

They only looked at each other, like they had done many times before, and yet this time it was different. She tried to understand what he was feeling, but she really couldn’t. He kept observing her, not saying anything, and Desna felt her eyes sting. This is was so hard. They had fights before that usually lead them to steamy sex, it was more tension, but now it was not like that. Suddenly the sound of someone knocking on the door made both of them move away from each other.

“I’ll get the door,” he said walking away. As he moved, Desna let out an heavy breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her eyes stinging again because of new tears. I don’t have to cry, she ordered to herself, she would have not fucking cried.

“Des?” Carl’s voice made her look up at the stairs. He was standing on the steps, two toys in his hands as he observed her.

“Hey, buddy,” she said forcing a smile, as he step down walking towards her.

“Is it because of Lip that you’re crying?” He asked, and the words got stuck in her throat, but she managed to shook her head.

“No, of course not,” she said before gesturing him to come closer, so to turn together in the living room.

“Who the fuck is this?” V said, and everyone turned towards the door. Desna’s breath got stuck in her throat.

“Um… It’s Karen,” Lip said as the others started to greeted her, Desna bit her lips, turning away as she noticed Ian looking in her direction.

That had been a stupid idea.

“Come, Des,” Carl said pulling her towards the living room pulling her by the wrist, “You sit next to me, right?”

“Sure, buddy,” she muttered as her eyes met with Karen’s, who flashed her one of her fake smiles.

“Hi, D,” she said.

Desna nodded her head, “Hey,” she answered. But before they could say anything, Lip touched Karen’s arm, pointing at the chair on the side of the living room. While Carl pulled her again to make her sit in between him and Veronica.

“Babe, sure you okay?” She asked touching her head with her hand to be sure she had no fever.

“I’m fine,” she assured, trying to not look at the chair as Lip set next to Karen and she cuddled against his chest.

That had been a stupid fucking idea.

Finally the TV was set so they all set down, starting to watch something about fishing. Desna wasn’t paying much attention, since she was too busy trying not to look in Lip’s direction. She was getting crazy as she noticed Karen all over him. That bitch was doing that on purpose.

“Shit, the snacks!” Ian said suddenly, “Des would you help me get them?”

“Yeah,” she said sharing a glance with Ian hoping he knew that she was thankful.

“You okay?” Ian asked as they started opening two bags of chips to pour them into a bowl, “Your leg seemed having a mind on its own.”

“This was a fucking stupid idea,” she exclaimed as she poured the chips angrily.

“Coming here?” He asked.

“Everything,” she admitted, throwing the empty bag into the trash “Start thing on with your brother, fuck him everyday as well as constantly remind me that there’s Karen in the picture” she ranted, “So I broke things off, only for him to show me that he actually cared about her. She is laying on his fucking chest!”

“Calm down,” Ian said taking a look at the living room, making sure that nobody was looking towards them.

“You did what you thought was right,” Ian said with low voice, putting his hands on her arms as she tried to calm her breathing down, “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he looked in her eyes, observing if she believed in his words.

That was true, she did eat she thought was best for herself. If he wanted her, he would have done something. She just needed time to accept the truth.

“Okay,” she said nodding her head.

“Okay,” Ian answered, before encouraging him to go back in the living room. As she made a step, Desna decided to show her best smile. She would have not let Karen fucking Jackson that what she was doing was affecting her. But she had a harder time when she met Lip’s eyes. As she got back sitting on the sofa, the two of them kept throwing looks in each other’s direction. One time was her, other time it was him, but their attention was caught by the front door opening to reveal Frank Gallagher, who entered into the house with his face covered in blood.

“Oh, my God…” Desna muttered as Steve asked the man if he was alright. He didn’t seem to mind giving an answer as he kept walking towards the kitchen.

Desna shared a look with V that patted her hand on her leg.

“Hey,” Ian said getting up walking to Frank, “Is that my shirt?” He asked annoyed pointing his fingers towards what Frank was wearing.

The change in Frank’s demeanor paralyzed Desna. He muttered a yeah as he started to walk towards Ian. His eyes held rage, as he kept observing Ian’s face. Desna’s hand clenched to V’s.

“I-I’m just asking…” Ian stuttered trying to move back, but suddenly Frank head butted his son. Everyone started to scream out as Ian fell back with blood running down his nose. Steve went towards Frank, screaming at the man, as Fiona ran to her brother side. Desna’s body wouldn’t move, terror took the best of her, like it had happened so many times before. Like when she was just a child, and he entered the room…

She didn’t remembered what happened, she just knew that at some point all those shouting ended and she started to feel her body tremble. She was looking at nothing, at her limbs kept shiver and her heart was beating so loud that it was the only sound she could hear.

“Des, Des!” She flinched as a hand touched her arm, the movement made her get back in her senses. In front of her, Lip was knelt down, carefully moving his hand to touch her arms, “Hey… it’s me,” he whispered as his fingers brushed her skin, but this time she didn’t move away, “It’s alright,” Desna let out a shaky breath.

“You alright, baby?” V asked from next to Lip.

"Listen, I have to go. Ian..." he stopped when he saw her nodding her head. Lip was observing her eyes, so she managed to speak "It's alright," she said. He nodded his head, then he squeezed her shoulders before getting up to run upstairs.

"Babe," V said taking her hand, "Let's go home, come on," Desna nodded her head, following Veronica home.

"Fucking Frank Gallagher!" V said as she closed a drawer loudly, "Coming home, assaulting his son," another drawer.

"V please," Desna said as she still could feel her body trembled, "Don't make so much noise, please..."

She hate it. She hated how her body was reacting, she hated that she was still so terrorised.

"Shit, Des, I'm sorry," Veronica said, walking towards her with a worried expression. Desna could not stand that gaze on her, she didn't want someone to look at her like that. Not again.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm alright, V!" Desna snapped.

Between the two of them fell silence. A silence that in Desna's ears was so loud. Her hands trembled bad as she tried to keep her breathing under control and her eyes from watering.

"I see people punch each other all the time at the Alibi," Desna said as her legs bounced up and down, hating herself for the way she was behaving, "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Veronica took a breath before she moved to sit next to Desna, "Because Frank Gallagher is a father that had hurted his son," at her words some tears slipped from her eyes.

Desna spent the day in her room. She layed on her bed, under her covers. Those stupid shivers didn't want to go away. She even tried to sleep, but wherever she managed the nightmares would come.

She felt so frustrated. She had worked on it, she was finally feeling better. Serene.

"Fuck, this shit..." she muttered holding her head in between her trumbling hands.

Suddenly a knock made her look up. Desna let out a shaky breath when she saw Lip standing on her doorway, “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but… can I come in?”

She should have sent him away, or yell at him, but as she saw him her heart calmed down and the fear was slowly disappearing. So instead of thrilling him to fuck off, she invited him inside.

Their eyes met as he set on her bed. They were close, his torso turned in her direction and his arm was across her legs. She wanted to ask him why he was there, what did he want, but she didn’t want to see him go away.

"How's... how's Ian?" At her question Lip nodded his head.

"He's fine," Lip said, "Pissed off, but he'll survive," then he searched for her eyes, "Nothing to be scared of."

"No, I know, I know," she assured looking down at her hands, "I'll just need time to..." she took a breath,"Whatever the fuck I need to do..."

"I'm sorry my father scared you," Lip said looking at her hand, "But, Frank is just Frank."

"I'm not afraid of Frank, I..." she stopped to take a deep breath, "Just... bad memories," his blue eyes observed her in silence.

"Lip, I am alright," she assured looking down, "Don't worry," the past was in the past.

Suddenly, she felt his fingers move her hair away, to tag them behind her ear. Desna closed her eyes at the familiar touch, finding it always so comforting. She turned her head to look at him, who moved his lips up in a gentle smile.

"Lip!" V's voice came from downstairs, "Karen is looking for you."

Their smiles dropped, as they both looked down.

"You should go," she whispered, suddenly remembering that they had no more relationship going on, and that she wasn’t the one he cared for.

"Yeah," he muttered, moving to get up. Desna observed his back as he did, and she really did want to pull him back and saying that he could stay with her. But she knew he would have not stayed. And she really didn’t what her heart to broke more than it already was.

********

Tag List: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit

If you liked it, plerase leave a ♥️ and reblog!

#shameless imagine #shameless fanfiction #shameless smut #shameless #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #carl gallagher #debbie gallagher #liam gallagher #frank gallagher #smut

[thoughtswordsandnonsense]

Not so Festive Xaden x Violet

Prompt: Winter Solstice at Basgiath means a week-long break for students and teachers, most are out celebrating but Violet has a hard time getting out of bed or caring about anything. Once Xaden catches on with the help of Violet's friends, they come together to comfort her.  

Trigger warning for seasonal depression and loss of family members. Sorry if this sucks, I'm in a bit of a funk right now.

Violet’s Pov: 

School had let out this week and while we aren’t allowed contact with family, most found a way to celebrate. Some we’re getting drunk, others we’re exchanging small gifts of baked goods and little trinkets they managed to sneak into Basgiath. 

Me, I was curled in bed feeling colder than ever, my body and mind feeling disconnected as I stared blankly at my wall. Liam had tried to come see me the first day off but I told him I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to get him sick. That was a few days ago and only Rhiannon had bothered to try, though I quickly fed her the same story. Adding in a few coughs while she was here, she quickly bid me goodbye so she wouldn’t catch what I had. Lying felt bad, but at this moment I didn't care. 

Tairn has been grumbling at me for a few days and Andarna has made it her mission to try and get me to eat, but the energy it takes to leave this room is too much. Everything felt like it was too much. Brennan used to say the weather change made me like this though it wasn’t always this bad, he’d do his best to spend this week with me and Mira curled up in blankets with hot chocolate listening to Dad tell stories or all of us reading together. 

Mom hated that he let us take it easy once Solstice hit, she said it made us all soft and we were being useless. That we should be training or learning and not being so lazy. None of us cared though, the time together felt warm, cozy and loving, but now it only added to the hurt, not having Brennan or Dad made my heart ache. Warm tears lined my vision as it blurred, thinking of them only made the hurt intensify. 

“This isn’t healthy” Tairn butts in and I groan. “I’m well aware.” “Then come see us,” Andarna adds and I shove my face into my pillow, drawing my blanket above my head. “I love you both but please, just let me be.” Tairn huffs as Andarna makes a high-pitched whine that sounds similar to a dog’s. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” Tairn huffs “The fuck does that mean?”

 I grumble back but receive no response from either of them and I curl in on myself. 

To anyone else, this may seem pathetic, but it’s easier than having to fake being happy in front of everyone. 

Closing my eyes I let the coldness embrace me again, my window slightly propped open so I’d at least get some semblance of fresh air without having to go outside. There’s no noise besides the wind howling outside and it lets me slip further into numbness, tears that were going to fall earlier drying. 

Some time passes as I focus on only my breathing, the slight light that is making its way past my curtain has long gone as the cold night breeze makes its way into my room and seeps into my bones.

My door creaks and I bury myself further into my blanket. “I’m still not feeling good, you shouldn’t be in here.” I croak as my door shuts, loud footsteps make their way over to my bed and something is set heavily on my nightstand I peek my head out to see Xaden looking down at me with sympathy, my neck cranes just to see his face. A mage light shines on my desk illuminating the room. “You can fool others all you want Violet, but Tairn and Andarna tattled on you.” I groan “I hate you both right now.” Andarna whimpers and Tairn snarls “Watch it SIlver One, we’re just looking out for you.” Xaden sighs and it brings my attention back to him. “I’m not going to make you explain, I’m sure Tairn shared more than you’d like, but I won’t be leaving you like this.” “Since when do you care about more than keeping me alive?” His shoulders sag as he takes a deep breath his large warm hand coming to cup my cheek tenderly as he speaks. “Contrary to what you may think, I do care for you.” The warmth from his skin and tone shocks me as I glance up at his concerned gaze, his tall frame leaning over me as he takes in my ghostly complexion. Mira always said that a lack of sun made me look like a ghost. His hair looks devilish like he had just come from flying on Sgaeyl, the dark circles under his eyes tell me he also hasn’t slept much this break.

Another creek of the door I find Rhiannon and Liam standing in my doorway, Xaden turns and nods to Liam as they enter and make their way over. Both of them have grey fuzzy blankets draped around their shoulders and pillows under each arm. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” Xaden asks as they set up their stuff near my bed. “I just didn’t want to,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment that they’re seeing me like this. Rhiannon meets my eyes and levels a glare that would make Mira proud, it’s similar to the look of a disapproving mother. “We’re friends, so like it or not we’re all staying here with you, including Riorson. You don’t have to suffer alone.” Liam tosses a pillow at Xaden's head that he manages to grab at the last second. 

He tosses it to the other side of my bed and then leans down and picks me up, I thrash as he whispers in my ear. “I’m here whether you like it or not. So how about you don’t fight me for just this once Violence?” He arranges us so I’m sitting in his lap and I cease thrashing, he leans his back up against my headboard and settles me in between his legs. I lean back against him as he reaches one arm out to the window and promptly shuts and latches it while the other keeps a firm grip on me. 

“How were you managing to be in here without getting hypothermia? Fuck, it feels like a morgue in here.” Liam comments as he pulls his blanket closer to him. “Sorry,” I shoot back quietly as Xaden pulls me even closer to him. His body feels painfully hot against mine as I try to squirm out of his hold. Xaden jumps as our bare skin connects. “Fuck, stay still.” He hisses as he pulls off his jacket and lays that on top of the blanket already on top of us.

 “Do you want help with your hair?” Xaden asks and I shrug “That bad?” The loose braid I put it in when the break started was likely a mess and I hadn’t cared to try and fix it. “Not to be a bitch  but, yeah dude it looks rough,” Rhiannon answers and I sigh knowing it’ll suck to fix later. “You don’t have to. I’ll get to it later.” Rhiannon tosses my hair brush that was sitting on my desk next to Xaden. “If you need help just ask.” She says as she settles into a conversation with Liam. Talking about the gossip of drunken first years at Solstice. Xaden’s hands slide into my hair, working the tie loose and starting from the bottom of my messy French braid. Lowly laughing as Rhiannon tells of Barlow throwing up on Dain, Liam's laugh is contagious to the point even I find myself cracking a smile. For the first time in days, I relax as Xaden’s fingers work through my hair, gently pulling apart tangles and rubbing my neck as he gets closer to my scalp. “Thank you.” I send down the bond to Tairn and Andarna. “Next time it gets this bad come find me, please,” Xaden says lowly into my ear as he finishes untangling my hair. “Okay.” 

Xaden passes me a mug as the smell of hot chocolate hits my nose and my eyes water all over again as my heart constrictions, I swallow past the lump in my throat and look up into his onyx gold-flecked eyes. ”Thank you.” 

#writing #booktok #fanfic #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #booklr #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing imagine #rebecca yarros #xaden x violet #rhiannon matthias #liam x xaden x violet #violet and xaden #violence sorrengail #empyrean series #the empyrean #violet x xaden imagine #imagines #liam mairi #seasonal depressive disorder

[my-on-and-off-writingstuff]

Dreams | Daemon x reader

Request: just read "To Keep the Memory alive '' and omg so good and well written!!! could i have a 3 where visenya sees/"spends time" with her mother in a dream( and reader says o how much he loves her and how much he loves her father too and he says he's proud of her and he's sorry he had to leave them but he doesn't regret giving birth to Vis) and when she wakes up she goes crying to Daemon and tell him, please?

Summary: Part 3 of my gone series. Visenya the daughter of the reader and Daemons comes to terms with her mother's passing.

Part 1, part 2

Visenyas point of view

“Visenya, my love.” At the sound of my name, I open my eyes and see my mother’s room in front of me. But unlike the dark room hidden away in my father’s castle, this one is bright, with sun rays streaming into the room through open shutters. The color on the wall was lively and looked freshly painted. The room looked clean, lived in, and the feeling of comfort settled down, hugging her like a warm hug.

“Visenya.” this time the voice sounded closer like it was coming from behind me. I slowly turn around and come eye to eye with a woman. Her dress looks made of gold. Her hair is done in the same way mine is done and her eyes bear a resemblance to the picture next to my bed. An almost silent whisper leaves my mouth when I realize who the person in front of me is. “Mom.” The woman nods and opens her arm for me. Without thinking I throw myself in her arms. Burying my head in her dress as her scent envelops me. The faint smell that still clung in her room was tenfold while I stood in her arms and a single tear slides down my cheek.

My mother slowly pushes me off her. “You look beautiful my girl.” She slowly turns me around with a proud look on her face. A look only mothers can have. Another tear slides down my face and I try to quickly wipe it away before she sees it. “Do not weep my love.” She softly presses a kiss on my forehead and caresses my cheek. “But it is my fault you died; dad is all alone because of me.” “Shh baby I gave my life for you, you are the product of the love between your father and me, both your father and I would do anything to keep you alive and happy and if I had to die in order to give you a chance of survival then so be it.” I take a deep breath and look down. My mother’s finger softly pushes my face up. She softly pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “I love you so much, you and your father were my special place and I do not regret giving my life for you, and it was never your fault, you hear me?” I nod at her words as a feeling of calmness comes over me.

For so long I felt like it was all my fault. My father had never been able to lift that feeling away. As he was suffering from the loss of his wife as much as I was suffering without my mother. The whispers in the castle never ceased they always talked about my father losing his love because of a child. A child that did not die with his wife but instead flourished and became an almost copy of his deceased wife just with a pair of haunting eyes. She had heard the whispers but had never been able to shake them. Until now. Until the comforting words of her mother reassured her it had never been her fault and she had done it out of love.

“Remember Visenya I love you and your father a lot and I will always be with you, in here.” She softly taps my head. “And in here.” This time she taps my heart. I feel the tears start streaming, knowing that it was time to let her go. “You are not letting me go, love, I will always be with you, tell your dad I love him.” She kisses my forehead and I close my eyes. Enjoying and cherishing the love and comfort I feel.

This time when I open my eyes, the room is dark my cheeks are wet, and I quickly dry them on my blanket. For a minute I go over what I have seen. Contemplating if it was all a dream, but it looked too real to vivid to be a dream. So, I throw the blankets back and quickly wrap myself in a blanket before hurrying out of the room.

___

“Dad, dad wake up.” I shake him roughly as Daemon slowly opens his eyes.  “Visenya, what are you doing here?” He softly caresses my cheeks and swipes away my tears. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?” He is sitting upright and pulls me into his arms after having checked me over to see if I was hurt. “I am fine, but dad I have spoken to mom.”

His eyes glaze and for a minute Daemon looks like he is somewhere far away. “I saw her, in a dream or a vision or whatever it was but she was real. I could touch her, and she hugged me, and she told me she loved me, and you and that it was not my fault she died.” It is one big spew of words and dad clearly lost the plot halfway through. As he shushes her and softly strokes her cheek. “What did you see your mother?” he asks almost in disbelief. I nod feverishly. “Yes, she was in my dream, vision. She told me she loved me and it was not my fault that she died.”

“Love it was not your fault, it was fate, and a good-for-nothing maester who killed her.” Daemon just hugs me closers as he wraps the blanket around me. “I know that now, but it is different when she reassured me.” he kisses the side of my head. “She told me she loved you very much.” His eyes glisten with unshed tears.  “She told you that huh?” I nod and bury my head in the crook of his neck. “Well, it does sound like your mum alright.” He laughs a little in disbelief and strokes my hair. “It sounds like you have a little more Targaryen magic in you.” I look up at him. “What do you mean?” Daemon smiles and looks down at me.

“Your eyes were always special, with one eye looking similar to mine and the other to your mothers, it looks like you also have earned the Targaryen magic in terms of visions, but only time will tell.”

#daemon #daemon targaryen oneshot #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x oc #daemon x daughter #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fancficton #hotd #got

[dsireland86]

There is Beauty in the Pain

Chapter 3 Pt.2

Summary: Noah and Sophie find each other in the most unprecedented circumstances. Whether it's the Universe, fate, destiny, or pure luck, they can't deny that their souls were simply meant to be

***Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, language

TAGS: @lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog

**if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)**

AUTHORS NOTE: Revised chapter. The old one was horrible.

--LINK TO CHAPTER 3 PT.3 AT THE BOTTOM--

I wish I could say the same about Sophie. She was broken. So much of life had been cruel to her and to see her the way she was now  shattered what little hope I still had in humanity. It wasn't fair for people like her to go through the fucked up shit they were forced to and that’s why I had so many issues with God. If he cared, then why did he allow so much suffering?

Noah:

Early on in life, I came to terms with knowing all people have a darkness about them. A darkness so deep that it usually took someone or something to help them fight it because fighting it alone always ended in failure. But I was never meant to be that for anyone, instead I was the one always needing that someone or something and I found myself alone a lot because of it.The family we’d created during the whole set up and process of the band had become the only "real" family I'd ever known. Losing so much as a kid and having a lot of instability didn't make a great start to adulthood, but somehow, maybe because of God even though he and I had a lot of issues with each other, I managed to get by and succeed better than I'd dreamed when I was younger.

The silence that fell over the bar after Folio posed his question. "Were you raped," was so deep that if it weren’t for the pitiful sounds coming from Sophie I would have said it was deafening. While Alex held her, quietly telling her things were going to be okay and that she was safe, I started to wonder if he was right or not. Was she safe? Folio didn’t hesitate to help. I watched how he interacted with Sophie, loving cupping her face and raising it to look at her, gently drying her tears with his thumbs. Her shoulders relaxed as he spoke softly to her and whatever he said made her smile appear. He seemed to make her feel at ease; safe. I was floored by it all.  It was a side of Nick that, in all the years I’d known him, never seen before, and I could tell by the looks on everyone else’s faces I wasn’t the only one surprised.  

"Sophie wasn't raped; I'd know if she was," Alex assured Folio. “What do you mean you’d know? Has this kind of thing happened to her before?” His voice raised a little higher than he meant for it to, but if abuse was a common occurrence in Sophie’s life, then why hadn’t it been stopped? Neither one of them answered Folio so I took their silence as a yes and apparently he did too. He scoffed, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, his frustration very evident. 

“So, this Perry, he’s your ex, right?”

“Yes, he very much is now,” Sophie’s nasally voice laughed nervously. “At one time we were together; happy,,” her voice tailed off. "They were together for about three years before he left for Germany. His job sent him there, right Soph?” Her head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, that was a little over a year ago. During that whole time, how many times do you think he contacted her?” Alex posed an odd question. What did it matter? “A handful,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. He shook his head. “None.” My mouth fell open in shock. “What? What do you mean none?” “I mean none. Didn’t call her, didn’t text her; nothing.” 

“So let me get this straight. You were in a relationship with this guy for over three years, and then one day he decides to just leave you or dump you to go to Germany and never speak to you again?” He looked at Sophie and Alex, expecting his understanding, and mine as well, to be correct. “Yeah,” Alex huffed, leaning against the bar counter. “Unfuckingbelievable. Why didn’t you call the police? Have his ass thrown in jail?”

“Because, Perry has certain guys on the police force that he's bought. He's kind of a powerful guy. No matter what he does; cheat, abuse, steal, do something illegal, he’ll always get away with it.” Alex’s face twisted into a disgusted look. It was clear he’d tried many times to help Sophie find a way out of it all, but it never made a difference.

“Yeah, I made the mistake of calling them the first time he hit me.” Sophie scoffed. “He was so angry at me; threatened me in all kinds of ways. It was the first time I questioned myself why the hell I was staying him. But by the next morning, he acted like nothing ever happened, but I was still really afraid of him. Out of the fear and love, or what I thought was love, I had for him, I stayed.” After giving Sophie’s hand a quick squeeze, Folio came and stood beside me, dragging a hand down his face. 

"You good, man?" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder. Nick closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them giving me a heavy look. He shook his head before walking away. Something was seriously up with him and I told myself I would find out later, but at that moment, Sophie needed my attention.

 "Soph, do you think you can tell us what happened," Alex asked, wiping the dried blood in one spot and then moving on to another one. Sophie’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and I worried for her. She needed rest before she would pass out from the overwhelmingness of the last few hours. Her hand reached down for mine, and I gave it to her, sighing when I felt the warmth of her small one slip into mine, locking her fingers around mine. She was trembling. I was sure her body was still in so much shock. 

Sophie sat down, letting Alex clean up her wounds with the stuff he had brought over earlier. Matt, Jolly, Nick, and I gave them some space, but I continued keeping an eye on them. "This is going to hurt like hell, but I've got to do it," I heard Alex tell Sophie. Sophie sucked in a tight breath and grimaced when he applied the cleaner to the deep gash on her cheekbone and the small ones around her mouth and on her cheeks as well. Her red, puffy eyes stared into mine, silently calling out for me to come to her, so I did. Kneeling in front of her I saw all the damage that had been done to her for the first time. It was rough. A dark bruise was forming around her left eye with colors of deep purple and blue covering the entire right cheekbone where Alex was cleaning. Welts from long fingers lightly covered her pale cheeks, the redness of them serving as a stark reminder of just how cruel humans could be to each other. It made me sick to my stomach, thinking about Sophie being in such a horrific situation and how scared she must have been. A strange urge to protect her washed over me, making me feel a little possessive about her. 

“I left the concert as soon as I could to try and avoid the huge crowd. Thought that if I slipped out, I wouldn’t be stuck in a room packed with so many people who were drunk or at least nearly there.” Well, there was the explanation I wanted. I immediately felt like a fucking asshole for thinking and feeling all the things I did. She sucked in another breath as Alex moved on to the last cut, cleaning it just like the others ”When I got to my front door, I noticed it was unlocked and instead of calling you like I should've done, I decided to be the stupid head that I was and go in. I did have nine-one-one on speed dial, though.” She glanced at Alex who, by this time, was scowling at her, scolding her choice. Sophie shrugged her shoulders and continued. Folio returned from wherever he had retreated to, sitting down next to Jolly with another beer in his hand. His face was still grave.

“After a few moments of waiting, I assumed all was good until Perry came walking out of my bedroom.” “What the fuck was he in there for,” Alex snapped. He sat the bottle of peroxide on the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to. I’ll probably have to burn my bedsheets when I get back.” I chuckled, knowing what Sophie was implying. “Anyway, things were okay for a bit, but it didn’t take long for him to get all aggressive and controlling. He would calm down and put on this stupid endearing act that made me think for a second that maybe he was being honest, but then moments later he was right back to hurting me and I just hated myself more each time.” 

My forehead creased. The motherfucker sounded like a literal psychopath that got pleasure out of hurting her. He was a danger to her and deserved to be locked up. “I don’t know what went through his mind, Alex. I mean, one minute he was apologizing and really thought we were getting back together, and the next, he was just cruel. couldn’t understand why I was refusing to start over with him.” Taking a moment to wipe her face, Sophie licked her lips and continued. “There was a moment between us, in my kitchen, where I actually thought maybe he was serious about his apology; he was so convincing. But then he shoved me, pushed me so hard against the wall that pictures fell and broke, and that’s when shit went downhill.” I laid my hand on her cheek, cradling the side of her face, grinning when I felt her press in on my hand. “I didn’t think I was going to make it out alive, Noah," she quietly confessed, bringing her hands up to wrap them around my arm. Her words almost made my heart stop. A hard pain hit my chest, making it seriously feel as if my heart was breaking. “But you did, Sophie,” I reassured her with a small smile. “You did, and you’re safe now; I promise.” She took a deep breath, wincing as she did, and nodding a little before closing her eyes and taking another one. “Alex. I can't… I don't want to…," but she couldn't finish her sentence without choking back her tears, trying to be brave. I moved, letting Alex take my place to console his friend, and went back over to the table where my friends were. “This is some fucked up shit, Noah,” Matt stated. I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. Folio sat quietly, jiggling his leg, staring down into nothing. “Hey,” nugging his shoe with the tip of mine.” He acknowledged, but didn’t look up. “What’s wrong with you? Are you okay?”Jolly asked, leaning in closer. “It’s nothing,” Folio sniffed. “I just a, I just don’t like seeing women get hurt like this; that’s all.” Jolly seemed to buy his excuse, but I didn’t.

No longer knowing what to say, think, or even fucking do, I dropped myself down in the chair next to Jolly, suddenly very exhausted myself. It was evident I didn’t need to get involved any deeper in the situation, and choosing to drag everyone in the room into it wasn’t a good idea either. But between Folio’s behavior and the unsettling feelings I had, it seemed that choosing to back out now was a little too late. Sophie stood up to stretch a little, wincing again. A slight cry escaped her mouth. “You alright,” I asked, concerned. She threw me a quick nod. 

“You made me feel so special, Noah. Thank you.” She reached over and laid her hand on my chest, and out of impulse, I placed mine over it. The twinkle in her eyes made a lump form in my throat. The butterfly feeling in my chest wasn’t helping either. And fuck… the sound of my name falling from her lips made my cock so hard and twitch that I had to clench my legs together to control it. “Here Sophie, I brought you, oh,” Alex paused as he came up to us from the other side of the counter. I cleared my throat and stepped away, giving Sophie some space. Alex’s eyes bounced from me to Sophie, whose head was lowered. Alex grinned, handing Sophie the medicine and water, and I couldn't keep myself from staring at her, mesmerized by all that she was. Why was I suddenly afraid of leaving her? What was it that made the dreaded feeling sink to the pit of my stomach and scare me. And then it hit me. It showed when Alex said something that made her chuckle, and that genuine smile spread over her lips. It was that smile. The first time I saw it, I knew I wanted to see it for the rest of my life. 

“Alex, I need tylenol or something. Can I get some with some water, please?” "Absolutely. I'll be right back." He smiled, walking away. Sophie turned her back to me and leaned against the counter of the bar. I walked over, taking a spot next to her. Neither one of us said anything at first. “I liked the way you flirted at the concert. It was cute.” Sophie said, breaking the silence between us. She turned and looked at me. “You have an incredible smile, Noah.”

Her confession made my insides want to explode, and I showed her that smile just because of the way she was making me feel. “Yours is just as infectious,” I admitted with my heart racing. We both went quiet again. “You know, whatever you felt back there, I’m pretty sure I might have felt it too.” Both of us looked at each other, eyes locking together. “When you came down during that last song and touched my face, it was like my whole entire world exploded. And when you came back out after the show was over and reached for me, I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the world.”

Sophie was such a simple, warm-hearted girl, and everything about her was beautiful. Being around her was like lying in the grass on a summer day or by a roaring fire when the snow was piled high outside. It made me feel peaceful. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to hurt her. She made liking her, and quite possibly loving her, easy. Even though my body responded to her in a sexual way, my mind was attached to her for other reasons too, and now that she was under my skin, getting her out was going to be difficult.

The atmosphere relaxed a little, and I went back over to the table, striking up a conversation with Nicholas. My eyes may have been on Nick, but my attention was completely on Sophie. The longer she was awake, the more she looked like she would faint. Sitting my drink down, I began to make my way over to her as she stood up and her eyes met with mine. Trying to keep her balance, Sophie put her arms out beside her but couldn’t hold herself up any longer. Rushing over, I threw my arms out under her, catching her body as it fell into me, almost knocking me over.

CHAPTER 3 PT.3

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #fanfic #bad omens cult #writing

[sublimecatgalaxy]

bestie i’m literally so obsessed with this javi fic!! i’m not sure if you’d be willing to do a part two, but if you’re up for it, i think it’d be so cute to see javi and the reader reunite after being apart for some time💕maybe he’s so excited to show her around columbia or they just stay in and catch each other up on what the other had missed? totally up to you!

Part 1

I love this bestie!! I love and adore you, you're the best.

"Hi." I grin as Javier opens the door breathlessly, a bright smile slipping across his face as his eyes trail over me, almost as if he doesn't believe that I'm here. His hand is firmly on the doorknob as if he'd fall over if he let it go and I laugh, giving him a simple wave.

"Well are you going to hug me or not?" I ask but before I can get the sentence out, Javier's wrapping his arms around my waist, tugging me into his arms with a loud laugh, face burying in the crook of my neck.

"I missed you so much, cariña." He whispers and I can feel drops of tears on my shoulders as my fingers weave through his unruly hair.

"I missed you more, Javi. Sucks being a house wife without a husband." I laugh and he hums, fingers gripping onto my hips that I'm sure will leave bruises but it just reminds me that I'm here, with him, my husband who's loved and missed me more than words can say.

"I can imagine." He pulls away from me, reaching up to cup my cheeks so he can kiss me properly, my whole body melting against his as I enjoy the feeling of his body pressed against mine. "C'mon before Steve sees you. He'll ask you too many questions." He whispers, nodding to the apartment across the ball before tugging me into his apartment. "His wife Connie will ask you even more."

Javier watches me closely as I take my shoes off and strip myself of my coat, handing him my bags while I look around his apartment. It's very him, very plain and simple, bottles of liquor set out on the countertop.

"I'm so happy to be here with you." I turn to wrap my arms firmly around his neck, pressing my body against his as he sways me back and forth. I can feel the smile on his lips, cheeks hurting I'm sure by now from all the grins I've caused.

"Took you long enough." He chuckles, pulling me down onto the couch and right onto his lap as I tuck myself into him. "Six months is too long."

"What if I moved here?" I ask suddenly, leaning back away from him, watching the way his eyes widen in real time, jaw slacking in shock as his hands grip my hips.

"Move in with me? Here in Columbia?" I can tell his mouth is drying from how often he's swallowing and I can see the red rimming his waterline, tears already filling his eyes.

"I already spoke to my landlord and my mom." I offer vaguely, hands rubbing up and down his chest. "I want to feel like a wife." I whine, slipping down onto him so I can curl myself into the curve of his body, just happy to be so close to him after so long. "I don't feel like a wife hundreds of miles away." Javi nods, reaching up to cup my cheeks in his hands, a smile slipping across his lips. "I want to wake up to you, make you lunch, be here when you get home."

"Spend my money-"

"Spend your big boy money." I giggle, wrapping my arms around him.

"I worry about your safety, sweetheart." He whispers against my hairline and I nod, knowing that he worries that I'd get involved in the dangers of his career.

"No where is safer than by your side." I whisper, tilting my chin so I can look up at him and he nods slowly, thumb brushing soothingly across my cheek.

"Then let's get the ball moving then."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres @rafesbae01

#javier #javier pena #javier x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos #narcos fic

[ohtobeleah]

My Brothers Keeper // A ToE Blurb

Summary: Rhett Abbotts eulogy at Robert Floyd’s funeral leaves not a dry eye in sight.

Warnings: Mentions of Death. Angst. Heartbreaking goodbye.

Ward Count: 0.7

Author Note: I couldn’t help myself. I was feeling so angsty.

-> Fall into the Terms of Endearment universe here.

“I'm not a man of many words.” Rhett Abbott stood tall with proud shoulders as he cleared his throat and held himself together. “But if there's one thing I know for sure it's that I'll never be the same man I was before I lost my brother Rob.”

You sat with your daughter on your lap. Odette wasn't old enough to understand what all this was about– all she knew was that the metal in her little hands was one of Toosters. He’d given it to her when she had started to squirm a little. 

“There will forever be a melancholy in me that will never go away.” Rhett's voice sounded as raspy as you'd ever know it to be as he spoke through the microphone. You knew this was a lot for him–speaking at his brothers, his twins' funeral. 

“I'll be fifty percent happy and fifty percent sad at any given moment.” It was never supposed to end like this. At the funeral of a man taken far too soon who gave his life being a better man than most could ever strive to be. “And the only advice I feel like I'm qualified to share with anyone who has ever lost someone like that is, is, is that you won't ever get over it.” Not a soul could be heard during Rhett's eulogy–quiet sobs only ever kissed your ears when gentle gusts of a warm breeze picked up around you. 

“The more you know that and the more you embrace it, the better off you are.” You could see the way Bradley bounced his knee up and down with anxiety–with a gentle and ever so soothing touch, you placed your hand atop his knee to keep him grounded. Today had been hard, for everyone. 

“I never want to forget my brother–what it felt like the moment I found out he was taken far too soon, because he deserves that.” Rhett's biggest regret in life had been he never had the time he thought he’d have to mend his relationship with the brother he really did love. Now he stood here, at his funeral, saying goodbye to the better version of himself. The version he had always been jealous of. The version Rhett lived in the shadow of. 

“That's how important he was to me.” It was all Rhett wanted to say, it was all Rhett wished he could say to Bob. if he just had one more minute, one more chance to say what he needed to say he’d tell Rob he was important. 

He never did get that chance–by the time Rhett and Natasha were finding out about what had happened it was already too late. Bob was gone. Rhett never did get that beer.

“So if I have to suffer and if I have to be sad for the rest of my life and if I have to be alone without him, without his particular things, his sense of humour, what he brought to life with his mannerisms and all the things that made Bob–simply Bob.” You couldn't hold back your tears any longer as your bottom lip quivers and you held onto your daughter a little tighter. 

Jake sat beside you, sandwiching you between the two men who cared the most about you. Bradley and Jake himself. They both saw shadows of bruised still–memories forever beaten into their skin. 

“Then uh–yeah, that's the way I'll honour him.” Rhett choked as he took a moment to regain his composure. This was the most he’d ever spoken in public. Natasha Phoenix Trance had not moved from beside Bob's coffin with her head bowed the entire eulogy, ready and waiting to present Rhett with Bob's wings. 

“You know, I'll be sad and melancholy about that forever and I know it. I accept it and I'll live with it because forgetting a guy like Bob?” Rhett paused as he looked up to see you and Odett sitting in the crowd amongst what felt like a million people who loved his brother and knew there wasn't a single thing Bob would have done differently knowing the two of you were safe. That you were finally free. 

“That would be Impossible.”

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

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse e @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris s @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56 @seresinsaint @topguncortez @mandylove1000 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment universe #rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #Rhett Abbott blurb #bob floyd fan fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfic #top gun angst

[lilscottishlesbian]

Diabolik Lovers|| Cannibalistic Love

Part One

TW: Death , mention of drugs , big surprise but cannibalism

Omg , the beginning of Lillian’s STORY?! I actually did it?

Death of a loved one|| Lillian A.

“KEEP RUNNING LILLIAN!” My mother screamed, I did what she asked but the burning silver in my side made it hard. Why are the vampires in werewolf territory? This isn’t their place. If I wasn’t stabbed with silver I could’ve shifted into a wolf , much faster than a vampire in that form.

I ran and ran until everything went painfully silent. I looked around and I felt worry when I realised that I’m alone. Where’s mother? Oh no. I ran back , it’s dumb I know but I can’t just leave her with them, she would’ve done the same for me. As I ran back I caught caught a strong smell of wolf blood which worried me and enticed me but I shook off the thirst.

“Mother?! Mother where are…” I stopped in my tracks when I saw the same crowd of vampires that attacked us. They’re eating her. They’re all crowding around her and eating her like animals. They don’t even see me , they’re just too busy sinking their filthy fangs into her.

I stood there, hearing the sounds of blood, squishy organs and the sound of rubber snapping even though it’s mothers flesh.

I didn’t scream nor cry but I wanted to throw up. While they devour my mother the wound in my side started hurting again. Badly. The adrenaline rush must have died with her too. The pain took over and my legs gave in, I’m on the ground. I can’t move.

I’m next.

They’re going to eat me too.

I thought I died before waken up to a bright light. “M-mother?….mother?….” My voice sounded dry , whatever I witnessed must be one of my sick nightmares. The softness I felt on my back told me I was on a bed, not my bed though.

Then I seen his face, Silas. My father.

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry but mother is gone” The crushing reality that it wasn’t a nightmare brought me to tears. I watched her die and I did nothing.

Im for sure I’m the hospital in the demon world, not sure who found me. I’ve been giving painkillers or just some strong drugs because I can barely move due to dizziness. Atleast the pain in my side is gone.But so is my mother. The only person, ever , who was on my side is dead and gone and there is no one else to blame but me for leaving her and then just watch her die.

I’m stuck with him now. I’m stuck with Silas , the fucker who gave me the vampire side I hate so much. Mother didn’t want me forcefully marry into royalty , she wanted my freedom. She wanted my happiness. My mother cared about how I felt. Silas only cares about himself and his own gains.

“Just go back to sleep Lillian, you’ve already endured enough I think” Silas couldn’t care less, probably fed up of me. You fucking think Silas? I was nearly killed by my other half’s who don’t even see the vampire side and I watched them cannibalise my mother and you think I’ve endured enough? I wish those vampires ate me now.

“They ate my mother ,father…they a-ate her” my voice was weak but the pain and anger was very there. Silas sighed “Yes well your mother did have a habit of eating vampires, maybe they wanted revenge” The witches wanted revenge for their sister that got kidnapped by vampires for their blood. Yet they’re viewed as the bad guys.

“T-they stabbed me with silver…father.” If I wasn’t drugged up I would be screaming at him. How can he be so calm about his wife, the mother of his daughter be murdered and his daughter possibly died?

“That shouldn’t have happened…” Silas mumbled and walked over to my bed side , he slowly stroked my hair. I hate when he does that. “It’s unfortunate you had to witness her death” finally he recognised something that isn’t about himself.

“What…what will happen now?” I’m curious about my fate now that mother is dead. She can’t stop Silas from doing anything. I don’t see myself lasting long without my mother, she was all I had.

“Sleep now Lillian, you’ll need to rest before I tell you anything” The nausea has been made worse with that.

What’s going to be happen to me now?

#diabolik lovers #haunted dark bridal #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #yui komori #shu sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #lillian ezra dl oc #lillian alexander #diabolik oc #diabolik lovers oc #dialovers oc #oc tag #oc