#speaking of dunno whether to laugh or cry

[limitlessimagines]

So how come I can become champion in my first game in apex legends mobile, but having played it on my laptop for 2 years I've never been champion once. Make it make sense

#cheesy speaks #dunno whether to laugh or cry lol #apex legends #apex legends mobile #I'm so bad on the laptop. still love playing it tho

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Be prepared for sensational news

Prompt #10: Confessing to a friend that you’re in love with them and they overhear it.

Leona x gn!reader

Read on AO3

"You know, you've been pretty distracted today," Ruggie points out. He gulps down some water as he uses the shadows of the bleachers as protection from the sun. It's not hot, but after practicing Spelldrive for a couple of hours? It feels like the sun is beating against his skin. "If this is how you're going to be in the next tournament I hope you fix your staring habit by then."

You finish taking a drink of your own water. You're careful not to down it all in one go. Leaving the field for a refill usually gets you a scowl from the captain. Not that you mind, but you'd prefer to remain on his good side whenever possible. It helped that you would bring him an extra for him too.

"I'm not distracted," you huff. "And I'm not staring at anyone!"

Ruggie gives you an unimpressed look.

"And I'm filthy rich," he says sarcastically. "If you're going to defend yourself, you can think of a better excuse. At least say you're not staring at Leona and, I dunno, Jack instead. That's more believable." He lets out his iconic chuckle after speaking.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you turn your head away from him. The last thing you want to do is give away your feelings. Although if Ruggie had pointed them out, perhaps they were obvious enough for others too? You didn't want to think about how obvious it would be to Leona.

Your lack of response causes Ruggie's eyes to narrow. The way you hide and avoid his gaze. He noticed your soft spot on Leona, but he always assumed that you were imitating him. Who wouldn't want to get in the good graces of a prince? But perhaps your intentions were far more...pure.

"Man, you're acting like you got a crush on him or something."

At this moment, you're glad that you weren't drinking water or else you would have choked on it by now. Even without the excuse of choking on water, you still can't find it in you to defend yourself against his playful remark.

Ruggie's eyes go wide and the hyena pulls back.

"N-No way?! Seriously?! I was just kidding! How could you even like someone like him?!"

"Ruggie!" You shout, finally finding your voice. You reach over to try and cover his mouth so nothing else can escape from his lips. But the hyena is quick. He sees your moves coming a mile away and easily dodges your feeble attempt at shutting him up with a simple dodge.

"I-It's not like...I mean..." You sigh, giving up. "Okay, so maybe I do sort of like Leona..."

"The sad part about this is I don't know whether to laugh or cry about this new info..." He sighs. Laughing is easier because it's almost funny to him that someone could like that lazy lion. On the other hand, he feels a little sorry for you. You really had to like him out of all the lions out there, huh?

You let out a whine and cover your face with your hands. So much for keeping this a secret. Things were going so well too! At least, you thought so. Maybe you should skip out on the next practice to perfect your totally not staring but staring techniques.

Ruggie takes a moment as he watches your reaction. Despite what he said, he can't help but be a little curious. Besides, he has something that could be used against you now. He might as well run with what he's got, right? It wouldn't hurt to dig a little deeper.

"So, tell me..." He slides beside you while hiding his grin. "Why do you like him?"

Unluckily for him, you know how he is.

"You really want me to tell you so you can have more dirt on me?" You ask while removing your hands from your face. You catch his face falling, an act he's done so perfectly before you nearly believe the news saddens him.

"I just wanna be a good friend, ya know? Hear all your woes..." Then that grin appears on his face and you can already hear the laughter escaping from him. "And it would really suck if Leona just suddenly heard how the little freshman has a thing for him."

"If I buy you lunch for a week will you keep this a secret?"

"Hmm. How about two weeks?"

"A week and a half."

"Deal!" He chuckles. "Now, where were we?"

You eye him for a moment, wondering if you should spill your guts to him. Despite him using this as leverage against you, you doubt he really would go to Leona. Besides, it's not like you had anyone else to speak to about your crush. It wouldn't hurt to gush just a little bit.

"Alright, alright..." You take in a breath. "Well, I think he's nice."

Ruggie holds back a snicker.

You're regretting this already.

"Not in an obvious way!" You cry out. "Even I know that. But I guess he's nice in a more subtle way? He's considerate, you know. He looks out for me- and you too! He's just...doing it in his own way."

"You know that he only helps me out cuz I help him out. There isn't anything free between us," he points out. "But I guess he does let me use his money from time to time."

"It's something, right? I know he has an attitude too, but that's part of his charm! Ruggie, don't laugh or I'm going to throw a disc at you when we get back on the field!" Your threat doesn't stop him from laughing. All he does is hide that smile behind his hands. "He's smart and well versed in...well, a lot of things! I mentioned something about some obscure flora once and he corrected me on my mistake." You let out a dreamy sigh. "And when he gets serious? Oh, he's so cool! He really does have the strength to back up all his talk and he knows it. I know it's a rare sight, but he totally shows that side more often in Spelldrive. It's one of the reasons why I joined."

Your happiness evaporates and you sigh.

"But I guess it's kinda silly for someone like me to like a prince. Leona wouldn't even dare to look at me."

"Uhh...hey," Ruggie tries to call for your attention. Unfortunately, you're preoccupied with your rambling.

"I'd probably be better off as food for him rather than a mate. Or maybe a pillow, I wouldn't mind that."

"You have some interesting thought process, herbivore."

The sudden, deeper voice makes you jump. With a quick turn, you find none other than the second prince himself, Leona. He stands tall, arms crossed and green eyes boring into your soul. You gulp.

"L-Leona! What are you doing here?" You let out a nervous laugh. You can feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and fear. Here he is giving you all his attention, but...how much did he hear?

"I was looking for two slackers who were taking too long on their break." His gaze quickly glances over to the hyena before they shift back to you. "And here I find you both, talking behind my back."

"I wouldn't exactly call it talking," Ruggie chuckles.

"Shut it!" You hiss.

"You shouldn't make assumptions about what I would do, herbivore." Leona takes a step forward, gripping your chin in between his fingers. His hold isn't rough, but enough to keep you in place. Your eyes meet with his and you swear that the pounding in your chest is growing louder with every second passing. "Unless you prefer me to take your words into consideration and devour you whole," he says with a grin.

"H-How...much did you hear?" You squeak.

"Who knows." He shrugs. You have a feeling he heard more than just your last comment. "Ruggie, get back to practice. Let the others know I have business to attend to."

"You got it," he says with a nod. Although he turns to you before running off. "Don't forget, I'm still getting my lunch from you!" As he disappears back onto the field, you hear his laughter ring out in your head.

"You shouldn't have made that deal with him."

Okay. That proves it. He totally heard everything. Instinct says to deny it, but the hyena's words play back in your mind. If you can't make up a plausible lie, why bother telling one? Especially to someone who could read you with just a glance.

"It's fine. I don't mind," you mumble. His grip lessens on your chin, yet you don't move. "I, uhh...Leona."

His ears twitch when you say his name. He watches you squirm in his grasp. Trying to escape from the very one your heart sought out. Herbivores could truly prove themselves to be interesting, couldn't they?

"If you're going to talk, do it with pride."

Leona releases his hold on you, but not for long. Before you can register your freedom, the lion is already lifting you up with ease. He practically tosses you over his shoulder, keeping you steady before leaving the stadium. He ignores your squeaks and protests to be put down, only wearing a prideful smile.

"We can discuss what you said privately in my room. I want to hear how nice I really am from you."

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #gn reader #ruggie bucchi #twst x reader #twst #leona kingscholar x you #savanaclaw #request #tell it to my heart event

[metallicaislife]

Childhood Friends

A/N: omg this is the longest fic I've written so far. It flowed so smoothly out of my brain I'm gonna cry. 🥹💚

Genre: Fluff, suggestive themes and brief mentions of smut but not explicit

Word Count: 2,180

Warnings: Smoking

When I was young I had a neighbor. He was my best friend. From dawn until dusk we hung out. Whether we wandered the neighborhood on an adventure or at his house as he practiced the bass. He was the kind of person we didn’t need to have constant conversation with to be comfortable. I was absolutely heartbroken at age 14 when my family moved to be closer to my dad’s parents. We called each other every once in a while, but that soon stopped as we got busy with the lives we had going on around us. I’m now in my 20’s and I think about him every so often, I hope he’s doing well, and that all his dreams came true.

It was a typical night, I came home from work. Had a small dinner and curled up on the couch to watch my favorite sitcom. The phone started ringing so I got up to answer it.

“Hello?” 

“Is this, Y/N?” A deep calm voice came over the receiver. 

“Speaking. Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s Cliff.” He spoke. My eyes widened. 

“Cliff? Like Cliff Burton?” I asked. He chuckled. 

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you?” He asked. My heart was thrumming against my chest. 

“I’m doing well. How are you? How did you get my number?” 

“Glad to hear. I’m doing great. I took a chance and looked in a phone book.” He answered me. I laughed. 

“I dunno why I never thought of that.” I said. 

“I called because my band is going to be in your neck of the woods, I’d love it if you came to our show.” 

“You’re in a band?” I asked excitedly. Cliff chuckled.

“Yeah, I am. We’re called Metallica. Do you know where the bar on Main Street and 9th is?” He asked. 

“Sure do. When is the show?” I grinned, feeling giddy. 

“Tomorrow night. Sorry it’s short notice.” He said. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you called. What time is it?” 

“8. I’ll buy you a drink after.” He said. 

“God, last time I saw you we were kids. Where’d the time go?” I leaned against my wall. 

“It’s been far too long. I’m excited to see you.” He said, I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Me too.” I replied. 

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.” 

“Thanks, see ya tomorrow Cliff.” I said and hung up. 

I pinched myself. Yup that happened. I didn’t fall asleep watching ‘Cheers’ and dreamed of that conversation. I squealed in excitement. 

The following day went by quickly, which I was super grateful for. When I knew Cliff he was playing Thin Lizzy on his bass. I’m curious to see what kind of music he plays. I found a comfortable but cute outfit and left to go to the bar. 

I got a cocktail and waited around. Soon the band Metallica was announced. I spotted him straightaway. It was hard not to. I thought he was tall when we were young. He grew so much more. He was tall and lanky yet toned, his auburn hair long and unruly. His hazel eyes met mine and he grinned. The same smile that brightened my days all those years ago. I smiled back and gave a small wave. 

I’d never heard anything like their music before. It was loud and fast. Absolutely electrifying. I was mesmerized by Cliff, his head banging and the passion emanated off him. 

“Thanks everyone!” The lead singer and rhythm guitarist waved. Cliff caught my eye again and motioned for me to head backstage. I gave a nod and made my way back. He was leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets. He looked up and grinned. He pushed off the wall and walked toward me pulling me into a bone crushing hug. I hugged him back tightly, uncaring that he was sweaty from his performance. He pulled back and held my shoulders studying me. I grinned staring back up at him. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to my bandmates then we’ll get a drink and catch up.” He shifted, placing his arm around my shoulder as he took me back to the green room. 

The drummer was sprawled on a couch fanning himself, the guitarist was drinking some water while sitting on a chair and the lead singer was packing up his equipment.

“Hey guys, I want to introduce you to my childhood friend.” Cliff said. They all looked in our direction and I gave a small wave. 

“Y/N, this is Lars.” He pointed to the drummer, “Kirk,” then to the guitarist, “and James.” He motioned to the lead singer. “Guys this is Y/N, we used to be neighbors growing up.” He introduced. 

“Nice to meet you guys.” I smiled at them. 

“Nice to finally meet you, we’ve heard so much about you. Our guy Cliff here talks about you a lot.” James said. Cliff shot him a look and I stifled a small laugh as my cheeks heated up. 

“Anyways, I already packed my things. We’re gonna go get a drink and catch up.” Cliff said steering me out of the dressing room before any of the others had a chance to say anything. I turned back to wave at them before we exited the room. 

“So you talk about me, huh?” I asked, jabbing him in the ribs playfully. 

“I mean, yeah. You’re really the only person I hung out with until I started playing in bands.” He confessed. I smiled but didn’t say anything further. 

He got us a couple beers and we found a place to sit. 

I was a little worried it would be awkward, we hadn’t seen each other or even talked in years. It was so comfortable though, telling Cliff what I’d been up to, and listening to his stories about how he’s gotten to where he’s at. 

The night was coming to a close and there was a part of me that wondered if this was it. Would I only see him if he came to town for a show? The kind of friends that saw each other maybe once a year to catch up. I didn’t want that. 

“I wanna see you again, soon.” Cliff said as we walked in the crisp night air. 

“Me too.” I responded. 

“You know I thought you moving away was the end of the world. You’re only 45 minutes away though.” He chuckled. 

“As kids that might as well be across the country.” I laughed, he laughed too. 

“Well now we aren’t kids.” He said.

“No we aren’t.” I replied, “So I'll see you soon then?” I asked. He nodded. “Good.” I smiled. He hugged me again and we parted ways.

True to his word, Cliff called the following night, and we made plans to see each other again. Over the course of a few months, we saw each other as much as we could and talked almost every night. Sometimes we didn’t even talk. He’d call and play the bass for me. I knew that I had missed him, but I hadn’t realized how much until he was in my life again. 

“We’re having a party on Saturday, I want you to come.” Cliff said over the phone. 

“Yeah, I can make that. What’s the address?” I asked. I wrote it down as he relayed it to me, and the time, but he said I could come over whenever. 

I took a bus to El Cerrito. I was lucky enough to find the house pretty easily. The party was in full swing. Cliff was on the porch as I walked up. He saw me and his eyebrow furrowed. 

“Where’s your car?” He asked and exhaled his cigarette smoke. 

“In the shop, it’s been giving me trouble so I caught a bus here. I don’t mind, I'll take one home too.” I replied and stuck my hand out. He placed a cigarette in it, I placed it in my lips and he flicked his lighter so I could light it. 

“Don’t be silly, I’ll take you home.” He said. 

“No, it’s okay.” I said. I looked up and his face was stern. 

“Yes, I will drive you home.” Cliff said with finality. I nodded. 

“Thanks.” I replied. Lars came bounding out of the house. 

“I know you like keeping Y/N all to yourself but it’s a party Burton!” Lars said and grabbed my wrist. I laughed as he dragged me into the house. Cliff rolled his eyes and followed after us. 

The night was filled with laughter as we made memories I will carry with me until the end of my days. 

The party wound down and people were falling asleep. 

“Ready to go?” Cliff asked me as I leaned against the porch smoking a cigarette.

“Yup.” I smiled and put the cigarette out. 

Neither of us got obliterated like the others so we were good for travel. 

“Next time I’ll spend the night so we can party a little harder.” I said. 

“You’re always welcome to.” Cliff grinned and opened the car door for me. I slid in and buckled up. Cliff got in and started the car. 

“There are some tapes in the glovebox.” He said. I opened it up and looked through them. I smiled seeing the first Thin Lizzy album he shared with me, ‘Vagabonds of the Western World’. I put it in, his face lit up as the music played through the speakers. 

The car ride was mostly silent, occasionally singing along to the music. I stared out the window, and I could feel what I’ve been wanting to say to him for a couple weeks bubbling beneath the surface. 

“I love you.” I said aloud as I continued staring at the darkness outside. 

“I love you, too.” Cliff replied. 

“No, Cliff, I’m in love with you.” I said refusing to look in his direction. I don’t think my heart could handle it if I saw a look of disgust pass across his features. His hand came to rest on my thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze. I finally tore my gaze from the darkness and looked over feeling completely vulnerable. He kept his gaze on the road, but he glanced over, the look on his face the opposite of what I had imagined. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” He replied. I smiled and placed my hand on his, giving it a squeeze as I looked back out the window. A huge weight felt as if it had been lifted from my shoulders. 

We arrived at my place not long after and he walked me to the door. 

“Why don’t you spend the night, it’d be silly to drive all the way here just to head back.” I offered as I unlocked my door. 

“I think you’re just trying to get into my pants.” He teased me as he moved my hair out the way so he could place a kiss on my neck. 

“Maybe a little of both.” I teased back. I opened the door and he followed me in. He shut and locked my door. He turned around and placed his hands on my waist. We stared at one another. The only sound is our even breathing. Cliff tucked my hair behind my ear, he cupped my face and brought his lips down to meet mine. I’ve been kissed before, but never like this. It took my breath away. 

We stumbled clumsily through my apartment giggling and losing clothes along the way. We laid in bed and worshiped each other for hours. Learning each other's bodies inside and out. 

We laid in each other's arms, sweaty and worn. I traced soft shapes on his chest as he tickled my back. 

“How are you feeling?” Cliff asked softly. 

“Content.” I replied and kissed his chest. Cliff chuckled. 

“Thank you for telling me how you feel.” He said. 

“If I held it in any longer I think I would’ve combust.” I replied and placed my chin on his chest so I could look at him. His hazel eyes in the dim light held so much love and adoration. I hoped as he looked back he could see that same look mirrored in my eyes. “Thanks for reaching out and inviting me to your show. If you hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t be here.” I said. 

“It was a long shot, but I really missed you. I loved you back then, ya know. But I never could have imagined how much further I could have fallen for you.” He said. My heart skipped a beat and buried my head in his chest. He chuckled and kissed my head. 

I wish I had a Time Machine so I could go back and tell the heartbroken girl that had to move away from her best friend that it wouldn’t be that way forever. She was able to grow up and fall deeply in love with the quiet boy next door who played his bass so passionately.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica #metallica x reader #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #metallica fluff #cliff burton #cliff burton x reader #cliff burton fluff

[austenpoppy]

Why I love Ron - the little things that no one notices (10)

Note to self : I can't believe it's already the tenth edition of this series !

He opened the door of his dormitory and was one step inside it when he experienced pain so severe he thought that someone must have sliced into the top of his head. He did not know where he was, whether he was standing or lying down, he did not even know his own name. Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears... he was happier than he had been in a very long time... jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant... a wonderful, wonderful thing had happened...

'Harry? HARRY!'

Someone had hit him around the face. The insane laughter was punctuated with a cry of pain. The happiness was draining out of him, but the laughter continued...

He opened his eyes and, as he did so, he became aware that the wild laughter was coming out of his own mouth. The moment he realised this, it died away; Harry lay panting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly.

Ron was bending over him, looking very worried.

'What happened?' he said.

'I... dunno...' Harry gasped, sitting up again. 'He's really happy... really happy...'

'You-Know-Who is?'

'Something good's happened,' mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr Weasley and felt very sick. 'Something he's been hoping for.'

The words came, just as they had back in the Gryffindor changing room, as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth, yet he knew they were true.

He took deep breaths, willing himself not to vomit all over Ron. He was very glad that Dean and Seamus were not here to watch this time.

'Hermione told me to come and check on you,' said Ron in a low voice, helping Harry to his feet. 'She says your defences will be low at the moment, after Snape's been fiddling around with your mind . . . still, I suppose it'll help in the long run, won't it?'

He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed. Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows, aching all over from having fallen to the floor so often that evening, his scar still prickling painfully. He could not help feeling that his first foray into Occlumency had weakened his mind's resistance rather than strengthening it, and he wondered, with a feeling of great trepidation, what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K.Rowling

Put yourself in Ron's shoes for two seconds.

There's your best friend, who's been having visions about You-Know-Who and who has been in connection with a mass murderer's mind, and one of those visions included your Dad nearly dying at the hands of a giant snake - and it had, in fact, really happened.

This best friend of yours has just got his first lesson of Occlumency, that's supposed to help with his nightmares and visions. When he comes back, he's visibly shaken, and he says he's going up to bed. Your other best friend tells you that there's a chance he might have nightmares/visions again because of the Occlumency lessons, and tells you to check on him for that very reason.

And when you enter the dormitory, your best friend is on the floor, laughing hysterically to himself (it's described as being "maniacal laughter", "insane laughter", and "wild laughter"). I would have been absolutely terrified. Honestly I might have even screamed, and I would have probably gotten help.

What is even more petrifying is that, when Ron called Harry's name, Harry didn't answer and kept laughing manically. He then bent over Harry and "hit him around the face" to get him to come back to his senses. And when Harry opened his eyes, he was still laughing this "wild laughter" that was probably a replica of Voldemort's own laughter.

Ron didn't mention any of it to Harry. He didn't make any comment about what he had just witnessed.

Ron, though "very worried", didn't even ask Harry if he was okay - of course he wasn't.

Ron simply asked Harry "What happened?" which is as neutral, as non-judgemental, as non-leading a question as can be, especially because it puts very little pressure on the person in front of you and allows them to answer what they want or need to say.

He then listened to what Harry had to say, simply asking another question for clarification, and didn't even press Harry once he learned that something good for Voldemort had just happened and that it had made You-Know-Who happy.

After that, he let Harry get his breath back before "helping him to his feet" and putting him back to bed. He then explained to Harry what might have happened, and also tried to reassure him that the lessons might be helpful "in the long run" despite his own doubts.

What a guy.

#hp #ron weasley #no sensitivity they said #no tact they said #the emotional range of a teaspoon they said #well they were WRONG #give me any fifteen-year-old who would have dealt with this kind of situation better #no f*ck it give me anyone who would have dealt with this kind of situation better #I know I wouldn't have #I would have panicked #I would have fetched an adult if I were 15 #I would have probably been bossy about it too #why i love ron the little things that no one notices

[thegreatobsesso]

7 snippets 7 people

Thank you for the tag @oh-no-another-idea !

I'm going to post seven snippets from the chapter I'm currently editing and edit them as I post so that I'm doing double-duty. :D

All Callie POV!

1.

Grace grinned as Callie reached out in awe and ran her fingertips over the keys. There had to be a hundred in here, and together, they resonated with a silent hum of power - her power. Unique and strong, and the thought came to her without an ounce of ego. She was happy to give it away, and have no one ever know where it came from.  What the fuck? 

2.

“You’re done for the day,” Flora declared.  “What? No. No no no. I’m gonna make more keys. Hey. Merv. Tell her we’re gonna do more magic.”  Bennett looked at her funny. “Did you just call me ‘Merv’?”  “No.”  “You can’t even talk,” he said, to her extreme annoyance, because she was talking just fine, thank you very much. "Flora's right, you're done."

3.

“Keep an eye on her,” Bennett told Dig before leaving, watching her where she swayed happily on the ground.  “Dig has eyes,” she said helpfully. “I said I wanna make another orbox. Guys. I wanna help.” Suddenly she was crying. She’d just been happy. What the hell. “I just wanna help,” she sobbed. “I wanna help so bad.”  “Aww, of course you do,” Dig said, and then he was helping her walk over the bed they’d made, just a big pile of blankets and pillows on a slab o’ stone. “But you can’t help if you’re dead, dearie, so you gotta have a rest. Just for a little while.” 

4.

“You’re part of a plan. As are we all, but Spirit’s got a lot to say about your role in this.”  She smirked. “My dad would’ve called you a demon.”  Dig laughed. “I get that from time to time,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and making tiny bells at the end of his shirt jingle. “When did he pass?”  “Huh? Oh, no. He’s not dead. I just... we don’t speak.”  “Oh.” Dig pursed his lips, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he should continue. “You know, sorry, but I just gotta say, he may be a faith leader, but he’s not the end-all-be-all authority on God. There’s a lot of Christians who believe that God is all love and forgiveness, that He doesn’t live to judge us.” 

5.

“What does your heathen ass know about it anyway?”  “Well, I’ve spent thirty years studying and teaching theology and my husband’s a Christian, so more than you’d expect.”  “Your gay magician husband’s a Christian?”  “Jake’s not a magician. He just lives here because I live here. And I’d wager the God he believes in and the God your dad does bear almost no resemblance.” 

6.

“And you believe in Him?” she asked, stunned. “In God?”  “Oh, sweetheart,” Dig said, swooping up his cards with a tinkly jingle of his sleeve, “I believe in all the gods. They don’t give me much of a choice. Do you?”  She felt very sleepy, imagining all the gods including God stopping the godly things they were doing to send Dig telegrams. “I dunno,” she muttered. She downed the last lukewarm sip of the sweaty-sock tea as her eyelids start to droop. “What is this shit?”  “Valerian root,” he said. “It makes you relaxed.”  She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling the impossibly strong call of the pillows underneath her head. “So by it’ll help, you meant...?”  “That it’ll mellow you right off to sleep, yeah.” He stood and unceremoniously dumped a thick comforter on top of her. “Nighty night, Red.” 

7.

“Grace,” she insisted sharply, “what do you mean, when you go?”  “Fall term starts in two weeks,” she said, looking surprised she had to explain. “I’m not enrolled. I’m only here for a year.”  “The fuck you are.”  “I told you that,” she said, trying to wriggle free from Callie’s grip and putting all her herb bags down when she couldn’t. “I must’ve.”  “No,” Callie said. “No, kid, you didn’t. And, um, this is crap, okay? You’re not going anywhere. We need you.”  I need you. She stopped it from spilling out, because she couldn’t explain it. There was no actual reason she needed Grace. But she couldn't let her just, just leave.

Edit: I guess I forgot how tag games work. 🥸 Tagging: @avrablake, @winterandwords, @pertinax--loculos, @indecentpause, @sleepy-night-child, @pandawriterstuff, and @dontjudgemeimawriter :D

#writing snippets #writing #writeblr #tag game #my WIP #the insuppressible callie ray #tw: language #oc: callie #oc: simon #oc: grace #oc: dig

[arthurmorgansclitorous]

Some Charles x GN reader angst or fluff would litteraly make me explode 🙏🙏🙏

(What about both?? 🤠)

Its been a few weeks since you've joined the gang, and you've settled in pretty well. You seem to get along with everyone, especially Charles. You both like to just enjoy each others company. So, you walk over to the campfire and sit down beside Charles. He mumbles a hello and you smile at him before looking away.

As you enjoy listening to the sounds of nature, the owls hooting, the soft wind blowing through the trees, the muffled crunches of leaves over Javier's guitar. You look over to Charles. "What are you doing?" You ask him with a curious look on your face. Charles looks up at you and says, " I'm making some arrows, I'm going hunting tomorrow." You nod your head and turn back to the fire, happy in the moment. That is, until Micah makes his way over to the fire. He's been a pain in the ass ever since you met him last week. Every time you see his wretched face you wish Arthur never broke him out.

"Micah." You speak quietly, greeting him. "Y/N." Micah grins at you and you sigh. Everyone knows that face he does as his mind is coming up with a stupid comment to make. And no doubt, he does. "Heard about that mission earlier." He chuckles. You sigh and put more sticks into the fire. "Can't even call it a mission cause how bad you messed it up!" Micah's laugh makes your blood boil. "Dunno why Dutch bothers to keep you 'round. Your useless." He laughs and drinks from his beer bottle. You roll you eyes and take a deep breath. He's not wrong though, that's the worst thing about his stupid comment. He was right, you basically are useless to the gang. Any mission you go on you always mess up, whether it be a simple con mission with Hosea or a stagecoach robbery.

You look over to Micah and see him ready to make his next comment. You don't have the energy to deal with his shit today. You already feel horrible about fucking up the mission earlier that day. You stand up and quickly walk away. As you do, you hear his evil laugh echo through camp. You walk into the forest, your knuckles white from how hard your squeezing them and sit down by a tree.

"you're useless." Those two words Micah said repeat in your head over and over. Why was he right? Micah's never right? You know that he just said that to get a rise out of you, but as hard as you tried to not let it get to you, you failed. You put your knees up and put your head in them, crying. "You're useless" he was right. You are useless. You cry as you think about the day, you messing up the mission, the embarrassment of it. Micah making comments, everyone in camp staring at you all day. It was just too much. You break down and start sobbing in your knees.

You hear grass crunching and your head shoots up as you quickly wipe away the tears running down your face. You slow down your breath and wait for whoever it is to see you. It's most likely Micah coming over to pick at you even more.

To your suprise, it's not Micah. It's Charles. He walks up to you and sits down. "You alright?" He asks you. His voice is so...pretty. it's so calming. So perfect. You nod your head, embarrassed that he's seen you in this state.

"y/N, don't let Micah get to you, nothing but shit comes out his mouth." Charles tells you. You sigh and look at Charles. "I know, just some of the things he says...hurt." you say, looking away. "He was right, what he said. I am useless."

Charles looks at you confused. "You don't really think that?" He asks as he looks at camp, sighing. "Well yeah. I fuck up just about every mission I go on, and I'm useless in camp with chores." You hug your knees and try your best not to cry.

"y/n, your not useless, you one of the best people I know." Charles says as he moves close to you. You look at him and let out a small giggle. "Charles shut up, have you not seen yourself? You're strong, your smart, your kind, your badass. I'm nothing compared to you." You say as you put your hands on the ground. Charles looks at you and sighs. "Y/n, your all of those things and more." He says in that monotone voice. You don't know why, but his voice has always brough you comfort. For the short time you've known him if you've ever been stressed or had a bad day just his presence, the small conversations you have with him bring you so much comfort, a type you've never felt before. Charles puts his hand on top of yours and you look at him. It's right then, that exact moment that you realise why he brings you such joy. You love him.

You start to cry again. Charles has been one of the first people to say something so kind about you. You don't know how to react. You don't know what to do, you love him. He looks at you and smiles before kissing you on the cheek. "Fuck micah, your perfect y/n" he leans in closer and puts his shoulder over you. He pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. You look at Charles and kiss him on the lips. Your heart starts to pound as your mind processes what you've just done. You pull back and look away. "I'm sorry." You say awkwardly but before you can explain yourself Charles pulls you in and kisses you back. "Don't be." He says and you kiss him back. He pulls back and smiles at you. "Don't let anyone tell you any different y/n. Your perfect." He whispers to you as you lie on his chest. He lays on of his arms on you. His warmth instantly relaxing you. He hold your hand and runs the back of your hand with his thumb. That small gesture, so romantic. Charles plays with your hair softly and you fall into his warm body. You slowly fall asleep.

When you wake up you open your eyes to see Charles still asleep. His hair falling over his shoulders gracefully. You slowly get up and sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and hold his hand. 'It wasn't a dream' you think to yourself and smile as you sit there, admiring everything about him

[nimble-stuff]

Crying Themselves to Sleep || Mikey - Pale Room, Part III One by one, they’re taken from the cell, and Mikey wonders if they’ll ever see each other again.

FANDOM: ROTTMNT Also on AO3

@badthingshappenbingo

<< PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

---

Their cell was quiet when Mikey woke up. What he wouldn’t give for a window. At least in their lair, he had the sense of whether it was daytime or nighttime, or even a clock just to tell the time, but he woke up in the near-total darkness and no sense of how long he’d been asleep.

Raph had taken up Donnie’s pacing. However, while Donnie paced a long line, Raph did it in a tight circle at one end of the cell, large hands rubbing the back of his neck, his arms, his sides. Leo was holding onto Donnie. Leo’s face was so tight, so old, and so unlike him that Mikey almost thought he was looking at a stranger, and when he sensed Mikey watching, he forced a reassuring smile.

“Man, they sure like keeping us waiting,” said Leo. “Anyone else getting hungry? Thirsty? Both?”

“Ugh, please don’t talk about food right now,” said Raph. “Raph is getting hangry.”

Leo’s laugh was stilted. “You sleep alright, Mikey?”

“No,” said Mikey, stretching out his sore limbs. The floor felt harder than concrete and just as inviting. “Did you?”

“Ah, y’know, hard to sleep with this guy on me. Didn’t realize Donnie was this heavy. His head must really be dense if he’s got this much weight on him.”

“You think all his weight in his head?”

“No, really, if he has, like, more brain cells than us and they’re all packed together, that makes him heavy. I bet Raph isn’t as heavy as him. Hey, Raph, come over here and test it out for me.”

Raph grunted something noncommittal. The feverish silence created a horrible, heavy heat in the cell, making it difficult to breathe.

“Hey, Mikey, hold on to him for a sec, would you?” said Leo.

Mikey scooted across and Leo passed Donnie to him, prying his hands away. When Leo gently passed Donnie to Mikey, Donnie didn't even seem cognizant of it. He let out something between a gasp and a grunt, and clung to Mikey when he was passed into his arms.

Leo convened with Raph in the corner of the cell. Despite Mikey being able to hear everything, they spoke quietly to create the illusion of a private conversation.

“Tell me you got a plan,” Leo whispered.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Raph hissed. “We could rush them. Might get into the hall before they release that gas or whatever it was.”

“Yeah, and get shot by a bunch’a pea shooters. We don’t even have our weapons and there’s a whole lot of them and four of us. Donnie was probably our best bet for coming up with a way out of here and he’s not all there right now.”

Raph looked around, searching the ceiling, and Mikey knew he was looking for cameras. He pulled Leo closer in and started signing instead of speaking, at just an awkward enough angle that it might be difficult for a camera to get a view of their hands.

“Donnie may’ve left us a way out,” Raph signed.

“Like what?” Leo replied.

“The emergency beacons in our belts. Everything happened too fast for us to hit them, but if we can activate them, Dad could pinpoint our location and come get us. He knows we’re missing by now.”

“They confiscated those the moment we were out, along with the rest of our gear.”

“The belts don’t look like a threat a first glance. I don’t know if they’d lock them up with our weapons.”

“We’d need to get out of here.”

“They aren’t gonna leave us in here forever.”

“Dunno. I think they may just let us starve to death.”

“No. They didn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s an interrogation tactic. They’re depriving us of food and water to make us more agreeable.”

Leo looked scared. “You seem pretty sure of that.”

“I feel pretty sure.” Raph rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, no matter what happens, focus on trying to get to those belts. Be sneaky about it if you have to.” He locked eyes with Mikey. “If that fails, we all have to keep an eye out for an opening to escape, even if it means only one of us gets away. If one of us escapes, they can go get help.”

Leo opened his mouth, as if to protest or agree or something, but he didn’t have time to when the lock on the door clanked and opened.

Mikey squinted against the blistering florescent light that came into the room in a long rectangle. Leo put himself at the front, right into a barrel of an assault rifle the guards at the door pointed inside. The intern was back.

“Alright, room service!” Leo joked.

The intern surveyed his clipboard, flipping through a few pages, then pointed at Raph. “Him first.”

“Woah, hey, let’s not get hasty. I think it’s only reasonable that I go first. I am the leader of this quirky band of misfits, so it’s only fair—look, that’s a nice gun, but hot tip: if you point it at the shell, it’s not gonna do much.”

“Don’t answer it,” said the intern.

Leo stepped into Raph’s path as he stepped forward. “Wait, hold up, you need to feed us first! It’s in the Geneva Convention. Yeah, I’ll take an omelette, if that’s on the menu, and maybe some—”

“Step aside!”

“You’re not helping, Leo,” Raph hissed.

“No, we need to eat before—before any serious, uh, before we, uh, are taken to the prison yard, or whatever,” said Leo, talking faster and faster. “Matter of fact, we haven’t gotten that phone call yet, in fact since there’s four of us, we’re each owed a call, so that makes four calls total—”

Mikey squeezed his eyes shut as one of the guards butted Leo on the head with the rifle. He heard, though. He heard the sound of Leo’s body hitting the ground with a loud thump and his surprised, pained cry. Donnie’s arms tightened around Mikey’s neck.

“Move!” the guard shouted.

Raph’s hands were halfway to picking Leo off the floor. An instinct that never went away. It seemed to take a lot of effort for him to step over Leo instead and into the light. The last thing he did was turn back towards Mikey, flash an I-got-this smile, and he was gone.

It happened so fast that Mikey didn’t even have time to feel truly afraid, just stunned and lost and he couldn’t even get up to check on Leo because Donnie made himself ten times heavier than he already was and Mikey was small already. Fortunately, Leo stirred and sat up with a fresh gash on his head running blood down his face.

“Let me see,” said Mikey.

Leo looked around, dazed, and found Mikey. He scooted over and let Mikey prod at it.

“Are you dizzy?” Mikey asked.

Leo didn’t answer, looking into something past him. The fear caught back up to Mikey’s body and a terrible twisting sensation pulled his intestines every which way.

“Leo…Leo, c’mon, please answer me, don’t leave me alone here. Please.”

It took a minute or two for the focus to come back to Leo’s eyes. He breathed deep. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“Are you dizzy?” Mikey repeated.

“No. No, it’s—ow.”

“Sorry. Put pressure on it, I don’t have—fuck, I wish I had a cloth or something—”

“It’s okay, it’s fine.” Leo pumped confidence into his tone. “Everything’s fine. This is all part of the plan.”

“Well…Well, it’s not for forever. They’re gonna bring him back.”

“Yeah, of course they are. They probably just took him to…to get more blood samples, or something. It’s like going to the doctor.”

“We’ve never been to the doctor.”

“Yeah, we’re way overdue for a check up, aren’t we? Raph’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Leo scooted up shoulder-to-shoulder with Mikey. He looked at them with an unnatural wistfulness, and Mikey looked for far longer than he should’ve, trying to dissect the emotion. Their gazes didn’t break from one another. The silence filled up all their words for them, drowning all feelings that came with it.

Finally, Leo put an arm over his shoulder and tugged him close, and the nagging fear chewing at his stomach lining eased a little.

-

They spent time reminiscing on what they were going to do when they got out, all the pizzas they were going to eat, the petty crimes they’d commit, the criminals they’d beat up. They complained about Raph’s body odour a lot; he’d been stinking up the bathroom lately, and no amount scrubbing got it out of the tiles. Leo suggested stealing a bathroom from Big Mama, insisting that they could cut a whole room out of her hotel and cart it off to the lair without anyone noticing. Wistful, daring, confident, sensational, preposterous little pranks that would get them on magazine covers, boost their egos, give them bragging rights all throughout New York City’s underground scene. Then they’d take a vacation to Todd’s, go camping for a while despite Donnie’s griping, drag the Caseys with them, maybe take a trip to Australia, go to places where humans would never see them again.

And that was the crux of it, the fear behind it all, because Draxum was wild and crazy and his experiments were out there even too far for the yōkai but he wasn’t a human, and he had some sense of what it was like to be persecuted and feared. Humans weren’t all that kind to each other a lot of the time, but God, they were so much worse to anything that wasn’t even tangentially them. The fraction of human DNA that made them walk upright and talk and think and feel just wasn’t enough. And Mikey was thinking, maybe it was a little too much for the situation it was in. He wished he had less of it. That he was more animal-like, because an animal would know how to survive. He felt close to breaking down and soon his throat got too dry from dehydration and fear to continue, so Leo spoke for all three of them because he was the only one who had enough words to make up for it.

Even Leo’s voice faded after a while, and the only thing that made him stop was when the lock clanked again. Leo scrambled up.

The same quartet of guards entered. At least, Mikey thought they might be the same. It was hard to tell behind the helmets.

“Where’s Raph?” Leo demanded. No jokes, not even a quip.

The guards pointed their weapons at him. One said, “Come with us. Do not resist.”

“Yeah, I want to know where my brother is first.”

“Come with us. I won’t warn you again.”

Leo’s gaze flitted in all directions, searching.

“Leo, you’re not gonna go, are you?” Mikey asked.

“…Relax, I’m…I’m just gonna go find out what they did with Raph,” said Leo. “I’ll come back for you guys.”

“Leo!”

“Stay with Donnie. I’ll come back, promise.”

Leo threw up his hands in mock surrender and a roll of his eyes and an upward quirk of his lips. He winked at him and walked out with his escort.

“Leo!” Mikey called out.

The shutting of the door was definitive. Mikey listened to his rapid breathing in the dark.

He held tight on to Donnie and tried not to think about all the things that could happen to Leo and Raph. Donnie was here, Donnie was with him, Donnie was safe, and no, don’t think about Leo and Raph because they knew what they were doing: Leo was confident and smart, and Raph was strong and willful. That would be enough. It would be enough to keep them alive, long enough for Splinter to find them.

Still, Mikey wondered. He thought about the Krang invasion, about Casey’s bad future, and wondered if it was fate that he and his brothers died, if his brothers being taken from him was the space-time continuum trying to right itself and force them to face the fates they’d dodged when the invasion was stopped.

It was so dark in the cell. Mikey felt like it was getting darker. The only thing that felt tangible was Donnie in his arms, and he was far too quiet.

“Donnie, c’mon, get out of your head,” said Mikey. “Don’t leave me alone in this!”

It had been a long shot to begin with. Donnie was a terrible listener even when he wasn’t powered off. Mikey wished he could find the switch to turn him back on.

Mikey stared at where he thought the cell door might be. He wasn’t imagining it; the lights were definitely getting dimmer. The darker it got, the more afraid he became, the more he revisited his childhood fear of the dark. Donnie had made him a nightlight for his room to chase away the perpetual dark of the sewers. Back then, the monsters had been imaginary.

Now he sat in the dark again, terrified of it, trying to hold the panic inside his body by holding his breath.

Donnie shifted a little, adjusting his grip around Mikey’s shoulders. It was probably just an instinctual reaction, but Mikey latched onto it, hoping that it was a deliberate sign of life.

“You there, Donnie?” Mikey asked. “Don’t worry, Leo and Raph will get back here soon.”

He didn’t know what else to say.

The third clank from the door sent his heart back to his throat. The light streaming in from the hall almost blinded him.

Paccioretti stepped inside, followed by her intern and the usual entourage of guards.

“You see?” said the intern. “Just as I told you.”

“I have eyes,” said Paccioretti.

“Where’s Raph and Leo?” Mikey demanded.

“What do you want to do?” the intern asked. “Should we turn it over to Bishop?”

“Bishop already has his hands full with the other two,” said Pacioretti. “An unresponsive subject is useless to everyone.”

“Where are Raph and Leo?” Mikey repeated.

Pacioretti gave Mikey a careful, prolonged stare. She whipped out her clipboard and scanned down it, biting the insides of her cheeks.

“What has D61’s diet been like lately?” Pacioretti asked.

“Uh, mostly table scraps from the cafeteria one or twice a week,” said the intern.

“Hm. It’s been a while since it had a fresh meal and we have three subjects who are better candidates. Take it to sub-level 2 and dump it in.”

The intrinsic fear launched into Mikey’s throat. Meal. Table scraps.

He twisted away from the advancing guards, pinning Donnie against the ground. He wouldn’t let this happen, he couldn’t let it happen, Leo had told them to stay together, he needed to stay with Donnie, he needed to.

“NO!” Mikey shouted. “No! You can’t do this!”

“Don’t be theatrical,” said Pacioretti. “The only thing you’re doing by throwing a fit is wasting my time.”

“You can’t do this! I won’t let you!”

“This is not a situation where you have a choice. Comply.”

“You’re not feeding my brother to some fucking monster!”

Pacioretti rolled her eyes, and with a wave of her arm, she left to let the guards do their jobs.

They were an execution squad. They even had the black hoods in the form of their helmets. Mikey let out a scream and clawed at the nearest one, all his training forgotten in the throes of his uncoordinated panic.

There was a moment, a small one, that almost passed by unnoticed. Donnie made an indistinct noise and his eyes were wide, alert, and alive, but he didn’t seem to be capable of speaking. They met his. Mikey felt like thousands of thoughts passed between them, but they were blurred with heightened emotion, and the rift never felt so wide while being so small.

Donnie was yanked out from underneath him.

“DONNIE!” Mikey screamed. “DONNIE! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”

“Get that thing under control!”

Several bodies slammed into him and shoved him back into the dark, while dragging Donnie towards the light. The last he saw of him was a flash of his wide eyes, then the humans were gone and the cell door slammed shut.

Mikey charged to where he thought the door was and pounded on it, screaming Donnie’s name and clawing into the metal. His mind raced with a mantra: Donnie’s-gonna-die, Donnie’s-gonna-die, Donnie’s-gonna-die. His nails dug into metal. He thought he could rip it away to expose the light. There was still time, he could just get to him, and he could remember his training instead of panicking, he could make it better. Mikey could make it better.

It lasted for forever. The desperate, howling sound of his own voice as he slammed his hands against the metal until something hot and liquid poured down his arm, and the feeling in his hands numbed into a burning, buzzing sensation. Mikey was sure he slammed his head against it once or twice. He kicked and screamed. He could get to Donnie. He could get to him before they fed him to a monster, and no, don’t picture it, don’t picture Donnie’s body getting cleaved in two by a monster, don’t picture explaining it to Leo and Raph and his own dad, he was going to fix this. Mikey could make it better.

Mikey slammed his shoulder against the door, pressing all his weight against it, but it didn’t budge. It was an immovable force, and his body was too small. Mikey was still working on the mystic mojo, but when he tried to focus on breaking down the door with psychic power, the only thing that came was a headache and tears that would’ve blinded him if the cell wasn’t already pitch black. He couldn’t move his arms. He pounded his body against the door, pressing his shell against it. Mikey could make it better.

Mikey thought this must be what purgatory was like: a black, horrible, inhospitable place where he lived with the fear that he would never see his brothers again. He attacked the door until he became exhausted and collapsed to his knees, tears flowing uncontrollably as he pressed his forehead against the metal.

It had been a long time.

Long enough for them to take Donnie to another cell.

Long enough for them to push him in.

Long enough for something to end his life.

And if it was plausible that something had killed Donnie in that time, it was plausible that something had killed Leo and Raph long before that. There had been more than enough time for the humans to do horrible things to them.

It was the universe realigning itself. Setting things right. They would die young like they were always meant to.

Mikey couldn’t see anything, only feel all the pains in his body and the perpetual ache in his soul he thought might be permanent. He curled into a fetal position, shell propped open against the door. He cried and cried and cried, until his body gave him no choice but to fall asleep.

#bad things happen bingo #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #nimble writes

[linominho0o]

Chapter 2 word count: 1286

“So, what are you gonna do with the power?” Felix asked once independent work time began. “I mean, it seems like a pretty cool thing, being able to bloom flowers. It looked like an effect from a movie or something.”

Chan was watching how Felix moved his hands with a strange affection. He had always assumed Felix was serious, but seeing him bubbly and antsy and constantly talking was a nice change from his usual demeanor.

“Yeah,” Chan said absentmindedly, trying his best to not smile too widely. He collected himself and then responded to Felix’s question. “Yeah, I don’t really know. It’s not like I have much use for it.”

“Well, maybe you should see if anyone else has a superpower.”

“Superpower is giving it too much credit. And I also don’t really want to embarrass myself by doing that,” Chan spoke choppily, and interspersed a few giggles into his speaking, a complete juxtaposition to the always-working, steady aura he gave off most of the time. “I don’t even think it’s worth bringing up, to be honest.”

“Well, it would be a shame if you never got to use it.” Felix seemed pretty insistent on Chan using it for something.

“I guess so.”

Daehwi and Jisung always sat together during lunch, and even though Daehwi and Chan were friends, he had never talked to Jisung before. In the spirit of the friendship that had started with Felix earlier that day, he dragged Felix over to their table for lunch.

“Hey!” Daehwi tapped the space in front of him, gesturing the two to sit down. “Pleasure seeing you here, Chan.”

“It’s been such a long time,” Chan joked back. “You’ve changed so much.”

Jisung and Felix just watched the two of them go back and forth for a bit, looking at each other and back at them in the “I guess my friend is like this, huh” kind of way.

“So, you’re always around this kid but you’ve never introduced us!” Chan said, nodding to Jisung. He was quite scrawny, but nonetheless offended at being called a kid. He didn’t say anything though.

“You two are in the same class,” Daehwi sarcastically rolled his eyes and added. “The whole school’s been introduced to him whether they wanted to be or not.”

The whole table laughed, including Jisung and Felix.

“No, but seriously, this is Jisung Han. He’s a singer, as I’m sure you’re aware, but unfortunately he’s able to be the little shit he is ‘cuz he’s so talented.” Daehwi ruffled Jisung’s hair and continued. “The class clown of the year. I’m sad I’m graduating a year before all of you.”

“Oh, no need to get sappy on us. It’s only, like, the fourth day of school.” Jisung chimed in finally. His voice had a familiar ring from all the times Felix and Chan had heard it in class, but hearing it in an actual conversation was somehow different. “You can cry on our shoulders when you’re 18 and balding.”

“Just because you’re a scrawny little “I skipped a grade” kid doesn’t mean you can treat me like an old man!”

Felix laughed, which caught both of their attentions. It seemed like Felix’s reputation as the king of the social throne had preceded him.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard this one speak.” Daehwi pointed to the small blond boy sitting next to Chan. “I’ve just seen his social media on everyone’s phone, even the seniors’.”

“Well, there’s a good reason for that,” Chan defended, half jokingly but half seriously. “It’s a skill like any other.”

“Well, blondie?”

“I dunno.” He said, and instantly his voice struck the senior and his junior. “I guess, it’s just cool that people follow me. A little weird, but mostly cool.”

“Huh, well you’re very different than what I expected.” was the only thing Daehwi could do to intercept the growing silence.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one.” Felix replied, almost sadly. “But I get it. I put myself out there very… loudly? I just enjoy the dancing and the fashion, but I think my personality’s more similar to the kids at this school than to the people that want to be my friends online.”

“That must be weird,” Jisung chimed in again. “To have all these people watching you that haven’t ever seen you in person, doing regular people things…”

“I try not to think about it.” But the speed of his response told the table he definitely has thought about it a lot. “It’s too much if you think about it for too long.”

“Well anyways,” Chan broke up the growing tension. “Lunch is almost over, but I want to show something to you guys. I already showed it to Felix this morning.”

“Oh? Are we headed to the bathroom?” Daehwi already started dragging Jisung along with him, grabbing his garbage to throw away.

“Indeed.” Chan dragged Felix out with him, making sure to pick up both of their bags.

---

“So you’re telling me,” The four of them were huddled in the accessible stall, just barely able to fit in if they squished each other. “That this just appeared? With no explanation? And now you’re able to control plants?”

“Well, yeah?” Chan looked at Daehwi as if to say “do you think I’d really do this to myself?” He got the message.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Jisung mirrored Felix’s question and anticipation almost one for one. “Are you gonna try and find where it came from?”

“I think I’m just gonna leave it be,” Chan smiled at how similar Jisung and Felix were before sighing and continuing. “There’s not much I can do with this, can I?”

“Well, we’ll just have to keep an eye on it.” Daehwi was watching Chan’s hand very carefully. “It looks like it might have an effect on your hand. Look, it’s turning dry and red.”

All four of them looked down at the hand that Chan had been using, which was, as he pointed out, starting to crack and getting red on his pale skin.

“Eugh… well, I guess I’ll stop using it then. If one dandelion and a blade of grass is enough to make my skin crack then I’d rather just not use it.” Chan rubbed his hand gently to calm himself from the shock of not noticing this.

“What if you trained it-”

“I was thinking the same thing! What if it’s like an endurance skill?”

"And then you can fight crime with it-"

"And reign supreme over the school and the world!"

“You two,” Daehwi lightly dropped one fist each on Felix and Jisung’s heads. “What if it isn’t? What if it just continues to eat away at his hand? You can’t risk something like that.”

“Why not? It’s not like we’re old and withering like you.” Jisung said that and then ran out of the stall, which the other three discovered he had been subtly unlocking so he could run when he made the joke.

Daehwi ran after him, shouting nonsense back.

“Those two are…” Felix said absentmindedly with a smile on his face, his eyes lit up with amusement, especially after hearing Jisung cackle and shout "I didn't mean it!" It seems he didn't make it very far.

“A handful.” Chan smiled to himself, trying not to steal too many glances at Felix. His smile was a treasure to him.

They both opened the bathroom door to find Jisung pinned to the ground, arms pinned and stomach being dug into by his senior. He kept shouting his apologies over loud laugher to no avail. Only the sound of the bell distracted Daehwi enough from punishing him to let him run away.

"Yeah..." Felix said, a little taken aback as Daehwi brushed his uniform off and walked away like nothing happened. "Definitely a handful."

#today i am #stray kids fanfic #stray kids

[isawjamfirst]

digitized an old sketch and arrived with a book cover concept???

#hire me #i kinda like it..??? #huh. #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #the crown prince of xianle #mo xiang tong xiu #mxtx #can y'all see the details #like the glaring detail #speaking of dunno whether to laugh or cry #waiting for y'all to point it out #i feel like a genius #watch i might hate this piece within three days lmao #but pls have it for the time being #white clothed calamity #bai wuxiang #white no-face #scrap collecting god #martial god

[ace-with--a-mace]

damn it's kinda pathetic, how worthless i am :/

#i just cant #i get in trouble for doing very human things #literally 8 minutes ago i got in trouble for laying in my own bed #i have so many fucking issues from god knows where that i cant seem to help #but whenever a friend of mine has issues i have all the answers #im supposedly really smart but im so fucking stupid i dont know how i get by #i can never get anything right #i always forget everything #i cant even function #hell i cant even cry like what #everything i do is Wrong Wrong Wrong and Wrong #but its all stupid because I'll laugh and feel fine for like 5 minutes and then im just empty #venting in tags because i can never express myself to people whether its online or f2f #i dunno man #jus feelin like if i went to sleep and just... #didnt wake up i wouldn't mine at all #:// #everyone basically confirmed my negative thoughts outloud to me so im not making shit up #and everything i do i just make worse #l speaks #shut up l #jus wanna stop existing if that makes sense #im always being reminded that im a failure and if i dont fix things i dont know how to fix ima die so might as well speed up the process #theres something wrong with me #somethn in my systems broken cuz i haven't done anything right in my life #vent #vent tw #its self deprecating hours and idk how to stop it #waiting for myself to finally crack so i can validate feeling empty and wanting to be Aliven't #but for now its this

[jean-kayak]

Anon Request: Can I request Mattsun brat taming reader talking shit about them to look cool infront her friends

A/N: Anon, thank you for this, and I think I definitely went overboard 💀

Warnings: overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), use of a vibrator in public, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 1113

Mattsun never had a problem with you inviting your friends over. He sometimes would sit in the same room with you and your friends, but he's never really paying attention to the conversation.

But he does think he's hearing things when he finally does tune into the conversation. He was walking to the kitchen to get something to eat, and you probably didn't hear him come in because there would be no way you would be talking the way you were if you had known he could hear you.

"Come on, guys, you really think he's the one calling the shots?"

He actually stops in his tracks in surprise, his eyebrows raising, but he keeps walking, keeping his ears trained on your words. Your friends are skeptical, but you keep it going. "Yeah, I always get what I want. No questions asked."

He huffs softly, having trouble covering his laugh, and he walks into the living room, seeing if he can catch you in the act, waiting to see your face. "Hey, baby, I was thinking takeout for dinner. Sound good?"

You turn around to look at him, the smirk he was wearing drops. "Yeah, that sounds great," you respond easily with a nod. You give him a smile, the look in your eyes is missed by your friends, but it definitely isn't missed by him.

You were doing it on purpose.

As soon as your friends leave, he's crowding you against the door, hand around your neck, squinting his eyes softly when he sees no sign of surprise in your eyes. "You think you're cute, huh?"

You smile at him as you tilt your head. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You want to get the brat fucked outta you?" Your smile widens as you shrug.

"I dunno. Do I?"

Then he realizes what your real plan is.

"You do, don't you?" He doesn't show any indication that he's onto you, and your eyes widen when he takes his hand away from your throat, your eyebrows raising in confusion.

No, no, he was gonna draw this out.

From one extreme...

"Issei, please," you whine, your nails digging into his arm as your face falls onto his neck.

"Hm? You said something?" he says, paying you no mind as you walk through the store, his hand in his pocket as tears form in your eyes. The vibrations increase suddenly, making you jump, biting your lip to keep any sounds from spilling out. "This is what you wanted, right?"

You don't respond, your legs shaking as you stop walking, your climax right there, and your eyes widen when the vibrations stop. "Please, Issei, I'm sorry." You gasp when he turns them up again, your tears soaking his shirt.

He knows this isn't what you wanted. You wanted him to fuck you until you were seeing stars, the only thing coming from your mouth is a broken promise that you won't act up again. "You call all the shots though, right?"

He smirks with a huff as you look up at him with pitiful, teary eyes, your eyelids screwing shut when he turns the vibrations up again.

He doesn't make it any better for you, replacing the vibrator with his dick, making you cockwarm him while he plays with Makki. He holds you close to him, arms wrapped around you as he taps away at the keyboard, your head in the crook of his neck, trying to keep yourself from squirming.

Whenever he dies or Makki goes to do something, he'll softly press on your clit, forcing your legs over his so that he can keep you spread open while his teeth graze over your neck. "Don't cum, baby," he coos, your chest heaving as you try to control yourself, but you can't do anything.

He has your legs pinned so you can't move them, and you're not even going to try and think about moving your arms, which twitch when he rubs more firmly over your clit. You grip the handles of the chair, your back arching as you feel your orgasm on the brink of snapping, just for it to be taken away again.

You whine softly, making Matsukawa chuckle quietly. "We got a long way to go."

...to the other.

"This is what you wanted, no?" he asks before diving right back in, his hands digging into your trembling thighs as you hard time figuring out whether to pull his head closer or further away.

He sucks on your puffy, overstimulated clit, making your vision blur for what seems like the millionth time today, your body essentially going numb from the blinding pleasure. "Issei, Issei, please! Fuck!" you cry, your face soaked in tears as your body shakes uncontrollably, begging him to relent.

He smiles against your folds but doesn't let up, and you can't even scream when you cum, your body shaking so violently as your eyes roll back into your head, and your body is still quaking as you come down from your high.

And it's not even hours later that he's on you again, this time overstimulating you with his dick. He's flipped you in so many positions that you've gone lost count and gotten dizzy from the number of times you come and the different positions.

You barely have time to breathe before he's sliding back into you, your essence and his seed easily allowing him to enter you without any resistance as your juices drip down your thighs. Your hands grip the sheets to the best of their ability, finding yourself with more tears in your eyes.

Every time he slams back into you, hitting those bundle of nerves inside you, it feels like you're being shocked, a weak moan forcibly coming out of you with every contact. "Too much, Issei, t-too much," you manage, not knowing how much longer you can take it.

"Aw, but didn't you wanna cum?" he taunts, and you can't even respond, his pace never slowing down, and he groans when your gummy walls pulse around him. "You're getting what you asked for, aren't you?"

Speaking isn't even an option anymore, the massive amount of your slick and his release causing a disgustingly loud squelching sound to echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin, and all you can do is hold on, your body practically limp.

"Cum, baby, you can do it. Go ahead," he coaxes, and he gives a few more calculated thrusts, and you're pretty sure you blacked out for a couple of seconds because you barely remember anything, just Issei shooting one last load into you before he slowly pulls out.

"Maybe you'll think twice about being a brat."

Tags: @iwascrybaby, @mxhriii

#issei matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x fem!reader #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #hq smut #hq!! smut #🛶.hoarny

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles dirty imagines #harry smut #You guys are gonna hate me for this #i cried too #pls fetch some tissue before reading

[ithehellisbucky]

forget me not

spencer reid x reader

Request: No

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, drowning, murder, drug mention, etc

Summary: You and Spencer don't realize you love each other until it's almost too late

Author's Note: First thing in like fucking forever, so yeah. This was originally a request and then I was at school and I couldn't look at my request so it was way off script, so I just did my own shit, this also takes place in the 5th season, in the middle just after hayley dies.

~

"The unsub is a white male between the ages of 35-45. His modus operandi is drowning in the great lakes, he's already struck Superior, Michigan, Ontario, and Huron, so we expect Lake Erie to be next." Hotch says, glancing at his phone every minute or so. It's his third case back since Hayley died, and he's picked up a habit of waiting to hear bad news.

"This unsub has recently developed a hallucinative disorder where every face he sees has an emotional connection. There were no discernable connections between his victims which leads us to believe that his mind is filling in the gaps at random." Reid says, gesturing abstractly at nothing at all in particular.

"This disorder was likely triggered by a recent brain injury connected to the Great Lakes so keep a lookout for any recent accident victims. He was very social until the accident, and after it he immediately became anti-social. He was probably in a relationship recently, but then broke it off, he is not married, but possibly has children, which he will not shy away from using in a hostage situation." Morgan exclaims as he leans against a desk.

"His victims are all over the place, so we advise everyone to be on high alert. There is no pattern to the murders, from a 51-year-old single mother of two to a 14-year-old on vacation." You pause and take a breath, looking back down at your notes. "Someone out there knows this man, so we implore you to tell as many people as possible, our Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau will be setting up a press conference, and it is very important to get this out to as many people as possible."

"Won't that just spook him more?" One of the sheriff's deputy says, with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, but at this point, he will kill again no matter what, it's better to have the public be informed because he will take another victim, whether we find him during or after is up to us."

He nods, and looks down at his notepad, badly masking his disturbed grimace.

"Thank you and let us know if you have any leads," Hotch exclaims, closing the meeting.

You walk up to Spencer "I bet we're their favorite people right about now." You say, sipping on your coffee.

Reid avoids your eyes and continues to fidget with the chess piece that he probably stole from one of the officer's desks. "What's wrong Reid?"

"I dunno, I just have a really bad feeling about this one," He picks up his cane and walks away. When Spencer has enough he needs to walk away, and as long as he wasn't hurt that was fine with you.

"Reid, y/l/n, Garcia's got something." Morgan raps his knuckles on the doorway and calls you into a conference room. "Hey babygirl, what do ya got for us?" He exclaims, shifting the call to speakerphone.

"A luscious blonde mane and an intense yearning to hold you." Emily giggles a little bit and Garcia can probably feel Hotch's glare "oh come on Derek."

"Sorry baby, keep goin'."

"I have a name. One Larry Todd. 3 weeks ago he was in a boat accident in which he had a severe concussion and was unconscious for 3 days. He immediately broke up with his girlfriend Shelby, which she was very angry about, adieu to her Facebook page. His ex-wife reported that he missed his last two visitations with his daughter Amelia." She takes a pause "he owned a bait shop that's been closed since his boat was destroyed in the accident, and it's listed as his last residency.

"Fits our profile to a tee," Emily exclaims.

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch says, hanging up the phone call. "Emily, JJ is in the conference so run out and let her know. Morgan and Rossi, go to the bait shop with SWAT, and Reid and y/l/n go to the ex-wife's house; Emily and I will stay here and see what else we can dig up."

Everyone goes their separate ways. The sheriff takes the driver's seat, with you in the shotgun seat and Spencer in the back. You can hear the clang his leg makes against his cane and his foot bouncing.

"I'll take the daughter, and you can have the ex-wife."

"Okay," responds Spencer.

The ex-wife Miranda opens the door sobbing when you knock on it. "Excuse me, ma'am, my name is Agent y/n y/l/n and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, do you mind if we ask you and your daughter a few questions about your ex-husband?"

She continues to sob but lets you in. You look back to see the sheriff playing video games on his phone and you scoff.

Spencer sits down with the crying woman and you politely ask if you can speak to her daughter. She tells you yes and that Amelia is around back.

"Bye, Reid." You blow a kiss to Spencer and walk out the door, shaking a sinister nagging feeling itching at the back of your neck.

You walk across the pavement and open the gate to enter your unsub's former backyard. "Hi Amelia, my name is y/n, I'm a friend of your mommies."

Beginning to grow more suspicious, you pull out your gun and triple-check to make sure it's on safety. If Todd is there you know that he would be fine with sacrificing his daughter for his own goals and you wouldn't let that happen "Amelia? Is your daddy here."

"Boo!" A little girl with pigtails holding a stuffed rabbit jumps from behind the recycling bin and you chuckle, putting your gun away in your holster. "Did I scare you?"

"You sure did!" You laugh. "Wow, that's such a pretty bunny, where did you get it?"

"My daddy got it for me." She said, showing off her gap tooth.

"That's so cool! Do you remember what it was like when he gave it to you?" You kneel to be at eye level with the child.

"Yeah, he was super cuddly, now he's a little more pokey, but that's okay." She says, playing with the bunny ears.

"When did he get pokey, Amelia?" You hesitated, something was off "I just want your daddy to be cuddly again."

"A little bit ago. He used to tell me stories till I fell asleep eeeeeverynight, but then he stopped for a week and when he came back he was like a big lion."

You had a growing sense of paranoia budding in your spine, why was she telling you all this so fast? "What type of stories?"

"He used to tell me princess stories, but after he stopped for a week he talked all about ones about the scary lady who tried to take me away, but then he stopped her! And the boy who was being dangerous so he had to make sure that she didn't hurt me." She exclaimed absentmindedly.

You start to pull your phone out of your pocket until Amelia starts talking again "and just now, he was talking about the bad knight who tried to take me away."

Your jaw dropped and you tried to find the best course of action, but by the time your brain started working it was too late. He walked up behind you and whispered into your ear "Nighty-night."

And then everything was black

~~~

"Hey, mommy."

"Yes, sweetheart?" She quickly wiped the tears off of her face to turn to her daughter.

"Can I have ice cream?"

"Of course sweetheart" she gives me a small smile and gets up towards the kitchen. "Where's that nice agent that came here with Dr. Reid?"

"They weren't a nice agent, they were a bad, bad, bad knight, and they were trying to take me away, so daddy took them instead."

No.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no no.

Where were they? Where was y/n?

I pulled out my gun without a second thought and left my cane behind, I ran as fast as I could without it, and by the time I was in the backyard my knee was burning and they were gone.

~~~

You woke up halfway through the drive. The road switched from smooth the bumpy a million times over, and it smelled like bees. Not like honey, not like pollen, like bees. Just bees. It smelled nice, but you don't want to die smelling bees.

You wanted to move. Move your body, move your head, move your eyes, move anything, but you couldn't move. Nothing could move. There was a sweaty tv shirt shoved between your teeth. Your hands were bound with bristled rope and there was metal all around you and you were certain that this was the back of a van. At first, you thought there must be a blindfold over your eyes, and then you realized that they were just too tired to open.

There was an old country song playing over the radio, a love song about a family in a house. The truck stopped shaking and he pulled the ignition. A growing sense of dread filled your stomach as he walked around towards the back of the truck. He opened the door and you saw his face.

That could only mean one thing- you weren't leaving here alive.

~~~

Within minutes crime scene techs were on the scene, but I knew they wouldn't find anything useful. The only thing that was there was the absence of y/n and our distraught profile.

"They were right here, right here, they were- they were right here, right here." Hotch looked at me somberly, and Morgan rubbed my shoulder with sympathy.

"We need to update our profile," Emily said, there was no time to waste, "we know what this guy does to people, and if he would risk abducting an armed federal agent in front of his daughter there's no doubt they in danger."

"We know Emily," Everyone looks at me kind of funny like I've said something wrong, but at this point, I don't care what anyone thinks of me, "His reason for doing this was for his daughter, he took out anyone he saw as a threat, a motherly figure, someone who could be her older brother, anyone who was a threat and wanted to take Amelia away from him.

"His disorder is fairly undocumented, being exactly the opposite of prosopagnosia, where patients disassociate faces from their loved ones, causes him to feel emotions about people he's never seen before, and his subconscious is assigning meaning to them at random, picking up anyone shows the slightest twinge of distaste.

"y/n picked up more than a twinge, they were there to take his daughter away, so he likely believes they're the mastermind." Everyone looks at me and waits for me to say the thing we all know is coming "he's not going to kill them before they suffer."

As we hitched a ride back to the station my leg was bouncing like crazy and my fingers were tapping the numbers of pi into the leather of the car door. Emily put her hand on my shoulder but I couldn't feel her, y/n missing was the only thing I could feel.

"Garcia I need you to check if Larry Todd owns any vehicles large enough to hold a person, trunks, vans, trucks anything," Morgan says into his speakerphone once we get back to the station.

"Oh god it's true, he really has them?" I can hear the distraught coated thick on her voice "do you think they're in pain, do you think he-"

"Garcia we don't have time for this, does he or does he not have any vehicles in his name." I snapped, I could apologize later when y/n was in a hospital bed.

"No, but you know I'm never one to go to bed early, and it turns out his great uncle died a year and a half ago, but his van was pulled over and given a speeding ticket a few months ago, how much do you wanna bet that's our guy and not a psychopath's uncle."

"Thanks, Garcia," Rossi hangs up the phone and turns to one of the sheriff's deputies in the room, "put out an ATB on that van."

"Okay, I'm gonna go through the medical files again, see if there's anything I missed," Hotch catches my arm.

"There isn't, right now all we can do is wait and look." He pauses "we've sent out patrol cars to look for the van, go out with Morgan, and circle around Lake Erie."

"Hotch, what if- what if we don't find them, or we find them and it's too late, or we find-"

"Right now she's alive, you said it yourself, he's not gonna let her die so easy."

As disturbing as it is hearing that someone you love more than anything is being tortured, I found it strangely comforting. They're alive. They are alive. They are prepared. After Tobias took me they brought me to a CIA torture seminar, just on the off chance that anything happened, I wouldn't break again.

I stared out the window of the passenger side of the SUV. Morgan wasn't talking, he knew what I was feeling, because he felt it before, when it happened to me.

"We've got a report of the vehicle going down sunmist lane" the scanner jumps to life.

I had memorized the map the second we landed; "we're five minutes away" and then, quietly under my breath, I whispered, "I'm coming y/n."

~~~

He held your head underwater for the 7th or the fiftieth time. You can't remember. You can't remember. You can't remember anything other than the water under the dock filling my lungs.

"What do you want with my daughter?!" He screamed at you as he pulled you out again, You vomited up all the water that my body could muster. You didn't know he had a daughter.

You forgot everything you learned to do. You forgot to pretend it was affecting me, You forgot how to hold my breath, You forgot. You forgot everything.

Except for Spencer, Spencer's smile, Spencer holding you, Spencer missing you until that was gone too.

Everything went away but the water.

He kicked you back off the dock again, and for a second you gasped for air, and then you sank, nothing even mattered anyways.

The man pulled you out again and kicked you in the ribs; you felt something rip inside of you and you screamed as loud as you could, which was more like a whimper.

"Larry Todd put your hands up!" Two men came behind the man who drowned you, you couldn't remember them, but you could remember the rip in your ribs filling with water.

He shoved you back into the water and you didn't even try to fight this time, you just sank, feet after feet after feet of water. You didn't hold your breath, you didn't care.

A figure appeared above you, and you saw the angel. He had a shimmering brown halo and a beautiful bright face that looked terrified, just like an angel.

And then he pulled you up.

~~~

This might be heaven, but it might be hell. You can tell the room is white without opening your eyes. There's a steady beeping sound to your left and it smells like chlorine.

When you finally manage to open your eyes you wished you hadn't. All you see is lethargy around you.

JJ is drooling in her sleep while Emily is asleep on her shoulder, Garcia is snoring in the corner with her knitting in a pile next to her. Morgan and Rossi are nowhere to be seen, but you can't blame them, seeing people they love getting beat up over and over again never gets easier. You can hear the faint sounds of Hotch arguing with someone over the phone in the hallway.

But worst of all is Spencer. He's wide awake and his foot is tapping like crazy on the ground. There are deep and dark eye bags surrounding his eyes and hints at a beard forming on his face. His cane is tossed uncharacteristically on the ground, and he pays it no attention whatever.

You open your mouth to speak, but when you do a stabbing pain shoots through your diaphragm and you gasp. The second Spencer hears you he shoots up and kneels next to the bed, which must be no easy feat.

"Hey, how are you?" He strokes your hair as gently as he can.

You try to speak but no words come out.

"Do you want some water?" You nod, trying to not feel pathetic. The second the glass of water comes into your eye line you knock it out of his hand and it goes shattering onto the floor, waking everyone else in the room up.

You start to cry, feeling guilty and scared about why a glass of water could've terrified you so much. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's just a bunch of sand made into something you can drink out of, it's not a big deal, don't worry." That calms you down a little bit.

You look around to see the rest of the team cradled around you. "How are you feeling honey?" Garcia whispers as if speaking too loudly would mortally wound you.

You reach up and touch your throat, and it burns. There's more confusion, and then JJ is getting her hand cut on the glass she was cleaning, Garcia was whispering too loudly and Emily was touching your arm, and Hotch and Morgan and Rossi were walking in the room and Spencer was pushing a button on your bed and the monitor was beeping and then you were screaming.

Screaming so loudly, screaming in pain, screaming in fear, screaming in confusion, screaming because you were overwhelmed and sad and scared. "Everyone gets out," Spencer says, and everyone quickly does, he knows you best, and right now, everything was too much.

"Wh-what happened" you whisper, throat and lungs still hurting but since you had screamed the worst part was over.

"The unsub kidnapped you, and tried to drown you, your heart stopped in the ambulance, but they brought you back." You remembered "You had been dunked in the water and brought back up at least 15 times, not including when I brought you out.

"You needed 53 stitches and had a punctured lung when we found you." He pauses "You're safe now, we have him in custody and he can never hurt anyone ever again." You let out a breath that you didn't know you had been holding.

"I'm so sorry," You were crying "I forgot you, I'm so sorry. He made everything go away but the water I'm sorry that I forgot you."

"It's okay, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, you were trying to stay alive." He stroked your hair and held your hands gently "He tortured you, when Hankel tortured me all I could think about were the drugs and the pain, you didn't do anything wrong, you survived."

"I survived?"

"Yes."

"Can I tell you something?" You chuckled, your tears had stopped but it was still wet on your face.

"Anything."

"I thought you were an angel when you saved, and now I realize that you weren't my angel, it wasn't magic, and it wasn't godly." Spencer looks puzzled, and you paused to take a deep and painful breath "It was the fact that I am so deeply in love with you, that seeing you love me back felt like heaven.

Spencer stares at you, his mouth closed and his mouth on the floor "You don't have to say anything, just know that-"

His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence. For a moment you forget about the pain in your throat, the burn in your lungs, and the agony all over your body; it was just Spencer.

You pulled away for breath, your breaths dancing with each other.

"I was so scared" he whimpered in fear.

You stroked his hair gently "I was more terrified than I had ever been. I was so horrified that I would wake up tomorrow and my reason for living would be dead. I was more scared than I had been when I thought my dad killed a kid, I was more scared than when Hankel tortured me, I was more scared when I realized that I loved drugs more than my own life.

"You were the person that held my hand when I was hurting so bad I would forget to breathe, and then you weren't here because you were the person in pain and I realized that I loved you because nothing hurt me more than the fear that I could lose the one thing in the world that made me feel okay."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you as deeply in your eyes as you thought could ever be possible. "I love you too, and I promise you I'll never let you go."

His lips meet yours, and through a kiss, you whisper "I'll never forget you again"

And you knew that you had Spencer and everything is going to be okay.

~~

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer #dr reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #s5 #long haired spencer #dr spencer #spencer x y/n #mgg #cm #fanfiction #angst #hurt comfort #y/n #spencer x reader #this is calm and it's doctor #matthew grey gubler #i the hell is bucky #forget me not

[mammons-tax-returns]

comforting you about your body insecurities pt. 1

beelzebub, mammon, lucifer

:) ! first post back!! (rest of the brothers coming later)

🧋MALE MC🧋

Lucifer is a very attentive demon, despite being busy with his nose shoved in a stack of papers around the clock

He really does find you wonderful, both just to relax with and to admire.

And he’s known that you piqued his interest ever since you appeared before him in the stuco room. And this is LUCIFER. He normally doesn’t give any human a second glance. Unless ur some powerful and dangerously talented sorcerer with white hair 🤧but that aside

Tonight, he gets a break from Diavolo’s workload because there is yet another ball being held at the castle.

He sprays a faint but expensive cologne on his skin, quietly hoping that you would like and comment on it so he could respond with some flirty line. That would be nice, he thinks.

Then, he’s taking long strides leading out of his bedroom, and heading over to yours beside the kitchen, where he hears his siblings bickering over the best fruit.

He knocks on the door first, waiting for a response that never comes. He only hears your favorite song from within.

He calls your name, only becoming more confused the longer the silence grows

When he pushes open the door, he’s nearly relieved to see you standing in front of the body mirror, fixing the the collar of your outfit. You turn to look at him offer a smile. “Hey, Luci. You’re punctual, as usual.”

He hums under his breath in response. A silent “i know”. He pads over to you, placing a hand on your hip affectionately. “You look good enough to eat, handsome. Asmodeus may have his moments but he certainly knows how to dress anyone with anything.”

You look at your own eyes in the reflection, not able to respond entirely. Lucifer means well, you’re sure of it. He doesn’t know that the past hour of preparation for the ball was spent scowling at the parts of you that you could never quite enjoy entirely.

Lucifer looks questioningly at your expression from the mirror. “y/n? Is something the matter?”

At that, you snap back to reality and look back at him. “Huh? Oh... Right— Sorry, I just,” you trail off, at a loss for words. Was this the right time to mention your thoughts, before a ball? “It’s nothing, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows knit in the way that they tend to do when he worries. “Mind sharing? I’d love to sit and listen.” His hands slide around your waist until he’s hugging you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne which makes you melt. Once again you wonder if this relationship was something you deserved.

“Luci...”

“Don’t give me that, lovely. I said I’d like to listen, no?” As you turn your head away, he takes the opportunity to rest his head on the crook of your neck.

You sigh, smiling hopelessly. You hate to admit it, but his response makes you feel jittery on the inside. “It’s silly really, I just wasn’t feeling myself just now. The clothes are amazing! But...” You know exactly what you’ll say next, but the words feel venomous in your mouth. “I’m wondering if Asmodeus understands how wasteful it is to put them on me, you know?”

Lucifer is at a loss, and his heart aches at your words. “Oh dear... Well that’s no good. I can’t have my gorgeous lover worrying himself over something that’s so far from the truth.”

You are already aware that Lucifer will always support you no matter what, and the thought is both heart warming and bothersome. “Yeah, yeah, Lucifer... I’ve heard it all alr-“

“Then what do you not understand?” Lucifer cuts you off promptly and confidently. “Do you really believe that I’d sugarcoat this? Anything?”

You swallow thickly. “N-... No. You wouldn’t...”

“Good. That’s a good response.” He places a sweet kiss on your cheek, ruby eyes flitting up to your own gaze in the mirror. “I’m almost afraid of other demons trying to steal you away in such a dashing outfit, to be honest. Enjoy yourself, but if any of my brothers try anything, I swear...”

You laugh a little, running a free hand through his hair and noting how he almost sinks into your touch. Almost like a cat. “Thank you, Lucifer. For everything.”

Lucifer kisses your hand softly. “You are perfection, darling.”

You look forward to slow dancing alongside the eldest brother now, losing yourself in the music. Lucifer was right, there was really nothing to worry yourself over.

Mammon, unfortunately, had to cancel date night plans for the weekend for a modeling gig.

You were disappointed, but not mad at him. He told you in advance, offered to make up for it, and usually tries his best to uphold his promises.

He offers to bring you with him, guilty at the thought of your alone in your room.

You don’t know whether to accept it or not. Would you fit in on a set full of gorgeous, picture-perfect demons?

Mammon has his hand on the back of his neck, nervous that you’re too angry at him to want to say yes.

To his delight, you smile and agree to go with him. Maybe, this way, he can avoid others flirting with him when they know that his boyfriend would be in the room.

At first, it makes you feel a little bit happier seeing Mammon light up with joy after seeing him pout like a puppy moments ago.

The day has come that you step onto the modeling floor. The photographers and staff know you well due to Mammon’s insistent bragging about you and your relationship. Clutching your D.D.D. anxiously, you make your way over to Mammon, who is already posing for a camera under bright studio lights.

You keep to the shadows as you watch him intently. Mammon is well known for his idiocy, but he is one handsome devil.

The evil snickering of two demons sound behind you, to which you ignore. You were too nervous to actually move, anyways.

Whatever... It doesn’t concern me... Right?

The giggles don’t stop, and you can’t help but listen in on their whispers. It sounds as if they purposely spoke louder than normal just to bother you.

“Look at how his eyes are shining... Obsessed with Mammon, much?” Oh boy. It really seems like they’re talking about...

“Let’s talk about those clothes, though... Are you kidding me... Does the human world really have that low of standards— or is this the bottom of the barrel.” At that, the two burst into a fit of cackles.

Luckily, a photographer hisses at them, irritated with the noise breaking his concentration. They quiet down, but continue to berate you in ways you had never even considered.

You’re sweating bullets now, itching to use your hand to wipe the oncoming tears of embarrassment. You blink them away, and don’t notice that your boyfriend is now finished with his shoot.

You tense upon seeing him speaking to the camera tech. Your heart nearly jumps out of your throat. The last thing you needed was him seeing you cry right now. He’d be worried sick.

Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you slip into the bathroom and can only focus on the laughter of the other demons behind you. The sound causes you to shake slightly as you shut the door behind you.

There is more than one stall, so you briefly worry that someone would come in and find you bawling your eyes out in the middle of a semi-professional setting. You sigh heavily and turn the sink on to wash your face.

The more you stood in front of the sink rubbing your face, the more vividly you remember the rude comments made about you. Could they have been true?

With a troubled look, you sneak a glance at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t think that your clothes were particularly “bad”... They said so much, and it’s all coming back like a vicious and cruel tsunami.

No matter what you do, you can’t seem to stop crying.

“Oh y/n!!~ Where are ya’ at?” Mammon crashes through the door, hands on his hip with a toothy and closed-eye grin.

Thinking quickly, you reach over to grab a hand towel and press your face into it. “H-Hey, Mammon, you looked good out there...”

Mammon must have picked up on your wavering tone, because he pauses.

You’re frozen on the spot when he places a hand on your shoulder, although you can’t see him through the towel.

“Uhh... What’s up with you? Don’t tell me that you’re...” It’s too late to react when he pushes the towel aside to find your teary eyes.

“Wh-What?!” His heart drops immediately. “What’s wrong babe?! Are you like... I dunno hurt or something?!”

You exhale shakily, still trying to calm yourself. “Those models out there are just... A little too honest about me, I s-suppose... But it’s really fine. I just... I don’t know... I guess I just needed a minute to... Freak out a little?”

“Honest? What the hell do you—“ A sudden feeling of recognition pulled at his features. Truth be told, he knew those demons personally, having worked with them before. Then the guilt of knowing exactly what happened began to eat away at him. “Oh...”

You shifted, wishing that he would drop the subject. This was getting much too embarrassing to bear, and the way his eyes drooped with sadness made your stomach churn. “Mammon. I-I’m serious, I’m okay—“

Mammon’s arms surround you like a sturdy, calming veil.

“I know you’re not, y/n!” Mammon had no desire to listen to you pretend to act unbothered. “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but I can guarantee that I have been given comments just as bad as those- and I’m The Mammon.”

You grip onto his shirt, avoiding making eye contact with him. “But... That’s the thing Mammon. I’m not nearly as confident or perfect as you.”

Mammon holds you tighter, voice softening drastically. “Don’t you think that’s exactly what I think of you when you comfort me on my bad days?”

A pool of warmth starts to seep from the depths of your chest. And your furrowed brows start to relax. “Really..? You mean it?”

“y/n, you are precious to me, and all of my crazy ass brothers. And there is no way in hell that I’ll allow some scum of the world get in the way of realizing how flawless you are.”

Beel wants nothing more than to spend every second of the day with you. And Belphie.

But unfortunately, most of his time is spent in the gym, if not the kitchen.

So he asks you if you would like to start working out with him at the gym, or even if you were just interested in hanging around and nothing more. He just wanted your presence.

The idea itself made your heart swell. But after a bit of thinking, you weren’t so sure. You’ve never been to a gym in Devildom before, but you were sure it wasn’t very different from human gyms.

It would be filled with confident and toned bodies that would put you down without even trying.

And as much as you wanted to be there with Beel, you weren’t ready for the prospect of the nasty looks you’d receive sitting beside the sixth-born who is a perfectly sculpted athlete.

After all, he seemed a bit too good for you, as it seemed in your head.

Beel wonders why you turned him down. Had he done something to upset you?

He’d have to get down to the bottom of it, lest he regret ignoring your behavior.

To do this, he takes a day off from the gym, thinking that the answer to this situation would be to spend time together. Smiling to himself, he clutches a bag of sweets to his chest.

y/n has got to love this, he thinks excitedly.

Knocking once, he can barely keep himself from barging in and tearing into his baked goodies. “y/n, I’m here. Wanna share these cookies with me? There’s also pound cake and cupcakes... The mini ones with enchanted apples on them.”

His smile falls a little when there’s a long note of silence. “y/n?” He questions.

“Oh! Uh... Sorry, Beel... Maybe another day. I’m studying for that final right now.” Beel knows you sound sincere, but something about this response seems off.

His heart sinks a little, feeling a little embarrassed after being rejected. He hadn’t expected this.

“Ah... Are you sure?”

“...”

There’s a silence from the other side of the door, and the sixth born starts to genuinely worry.

Truth be told, you had been weeping alone looking through images of famous demon athletes that advertised the same gym that Beel attended regularly. It was a dangerous thing to do, but how could you look away?

You take a glance at yourself in the mirror. your eyes were barely puffy. A bit red too. But overall, nothing seemed very different. Maybe— Just maybe, he wouldn’t even notice.

“Hello? You in there?”

You stiffen at the sound of his voice.

“Coming!” Hopping to your feet, you rush to the door and open it.

“Oh man, I was starting to get antsy smelling this bag... Let’s hurry and dig in.” His eyes are trained on the food in his hands, and his mouth is watering.

“Oh, Beel... You have some drool again!” You lightly scold him and wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin from the table right beside the door.

At that, he finally gets a good look at you.

“Oh, thank y—... ou...” He trails off instantaneously. “Your eyes...”

You sigh and bow your head sheepishly. “Agh... I should’ve known you’d catch me. It’s not anything serious, I just was... I was watching a sad movie is all.”

His eyebrows knit together. “So were you studying or watching a movie?”

He caught me.

He pushes forward, closing the door behind him and taking your hands in his. He leaves the bag abandoned on the floor.

“y/n... What’s been up with you lately? You’re seriously not yourself.”

Your face flushes, and you sigh. Your throat suddenly feels tight. “Uh... That’s...”

He’s noticed this entire time. I’m an idiot.

“Listen, Beel...” You squeeze his hand. “I’ll tell you because I know that if I don’t, you’ll be worried sick.”

He nods hurriedly, heart rate increasing.

“I guess I just...” The words struggle to make their way out. “I don’t understand how-how someone like you; handsome, kind, and strong could end up with...” You pause, starting to tear up. “With someone like me.”

Beel takes a moment to process your situation.

And when he does, his head starts to spin, and his heart feels heavy like a boulder.

“y/n... What are you even thinking?” Is all he manages to whisper. He pulls you into a tight, comforting hug and sniffles.

“Beel—“

“You mean literally more to me than anything or anyone else.” He says firmly. “I don’t know what part of you you’re so hung up on, I couldn’t even imagine there being any reason to be.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I do.” He cuts you off firmly. If he didn’t, you may try to deny his definite truth. “y/n, I know i’m all about food and training... I’m sorry I don’t know how to make you realize how wonderful you are.

But I’d like to learn that with you. Is that okay?”

Your tears finally fall, soaking through his tank top.

“Of course... I’d love that.”

#obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me male reader #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #om

[alfredosauce50]

The Place Beyond the Pines [2p! America x reader] 08

08 - Nightcall Wordcount: 3, 393 Rating: M for strong language, mature and ideologically sensitive themes. Chapter synopsis: Alfred witnesses something he wishes he didn’t. Even in tears, it gives him the resolve to call you one last time over the phone. Meanwhile, Allen drives you through the night to get the closure he always wanted. He tells you the truth about himself, his regrets, and everything he would’ve wanted you to know if he were to never see you again. The prospect is right around the corner as you’re forced to choose between the two. To cut one off forever and be with the other. Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film, “The Place Beyond the Pines.” The reader is referred to as she/her.

The Place Beyond the Pines 08 - Nightcall

A/N: I was inspired by Kavinsky’s song “Nightcall”

Alfred looked for you outside the bathrooms.

When he walked into a clearing, he saw what he needed to see.

As he stood frozen still on the dirt, drowned by the excitement of festivities and laughter of strangers, his chest ached with the sobs he’d yet to cry. The ringing and buzzing of machines in his ears faded. He couldn’t feel Jason’s arms around his neck anymore. All he knew was you and Allen sharing a tearful reunion, then his own crushing betrayal.

|

He didn’t like eating out back then. He was a cheapskate. But just for the opportunity to strike up a conversation, he would spare a few bucks for a coffee or a bagel. And just like any other regular customer, the staff eventually came to know him by name—Alfred, the guy who only came in for a single cup of joe. And he’d always sit in the same place.

The counter in front of the kitchen door.

You burst through it with a tray in hand. Alfred glances up. You flash him a smile. Making long, purposed strides to one of the booths, you placed two plates in front of a couple sitting opposite each other. When you returned, Alfred found himself listening eagerly to your footsteps. Any second now.

“The usual?” You appeared behind the counter and picked up a jug of coffee. He nodded with a grin. Bending down to retrieve a cup and saucer, you added this in a strain. “You know, you stay awfully long for someone who just orders rocket fuel.”

His flickered his zealous eyes over you like he couldn’t wait for his turn to speak.

“Why, can’t I do that?”

“No, but you’re giving me the wrong idea.”

He brought his coffee up to his lips and sipped it. His expression and tone were both unreadable when he piped up again. “What kinda idea?”

You scoffed through your nose, struggling to stifle a smile. He was good, but you could do him one better. “Hm... That you don’t have anything better to do?” Alfred laughed airily. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. “Or a social life, for that matter. You come in every afternoon, Alfred. Why do you keep coming back?”

He shrugged, pursing his lips forcefully.

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I really like the coffee.”

“Really,” You rose your brows skeptically. You picked up the jug and watched the blackish liquid slosh in the glass. “Nobody likes the coffee.”

Alfred stared at you wordlessly. ‘Oops’ was written all over his face. He was never good at telling whether hot, bitter, bean water was good or not.

“I, uh, I actually have to tell you something.”

His cheeks grew rosy as he cracked like an egg.

“Can you meet me outside in a minute?”

You showed a coy look, having figured him out. It had been two months since you first met him in January. He was a charmer in his own right. Sweet, sensitive, well-spoken, and funny, it wasn’t hard to befriend someone like him. He never beat around the bush to say he wanted to go steady with you either.

“I have something to tell you too,” While you stood with him outside his car, he would dart his eager eyes over your face as you spoke. You quickly broke away from his gaze, unable to handle his scrutiny on top of the rising anxiety in your system. “I...”

“Take your time,” Alfred squeezed your hand. When he felt the light trembling in it, he frowned deeply. You were deathly afraid of something. His reaction, no doubt. And so, he forced this out with hopes of calming your shallow breaths. “Hey.”

You looked up quickly. His ocean blues stared at you with so much understanding, your racing heart slowed until your chest no longer hurt. Something about Alfred made you want to trust him. His kindness, his respect, he always had a way of making people feel welcomed, no matter the circumstance.

“Whatever you tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you. So don’t be scared, okay?”

Alfred stroked your skin with his thumb.

“You can trust me.”

“I know I can trust you,” You shook your head lightly, causing a few tears to stream down to your chin. “But you won’t be happy either way. And you won’t deserve what you get into.” Reaching up to your face contorted with pain, you rubbed everything away.

“I don’t wanna do this to you.”

It was his turn to shake his head, albeit in dissent.

“Do what?” You turned away. He simply moved to face you again. “What could you do to me to make me unhappy? You have to tell me.”

“I’m pregnant.” You confessed.

His eyes went round from shock.

A suffocating silence ensued. You rubbed away more tears and tore yourself away from him before he could say anything. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You couldn’t handle it. Just when you felt the first sob rise in your throat, he shot out a hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you abruptly.

“Is that a problem?” Alfred asked almost defiantly. Just like that, he turned your greatest sorrow into your greatest joy. He saw the love in your eyes, fierce and undying. He saw hope, the one thing you’ve been needing in this despairing world. “If you’re not together with them anymore, why is it a problem?”

You were in love with him then.

So why weren’t you still in love with him now?

He sat in the living room with Jason on his lap. All the lights in the house were off, save for a dim lamp on the coffee table. Alfred never cried, but thinking about it had quiet tears running down his face.

He screwed his eyes shut and hugged Jason.

The boy looked just like his father. And he’d always hated it from the bottom of his heart. Sometimes, a mere glimpse of his little face was all it took for his blood to boil. But he couldn’t go on like this forever.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed into his hair. The child was quiet in his arms, having fallen asleep on the car ride back home. But his small hands never stopped clinging to his shirt, scrunching up the fabric.

“I’m sorry for ever being angry at you.”

I’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel                                     I want to drive you through the night,   down the hills

Allen floored it and sped through the black streets. His eyes darted around every so often as he made sharp turns, swerving across the asphalt in loud screeches. There was no destination. No endpoint. Just the craze to get away from there. And he never knew how much he needed it until he did it.

Taking you far, far away from Alfred.

Far, far away had to settle for ten blocks down, however. Pulling into a quiet road, he parked the car next to the curb and turned to you.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Allen stared at you warily as he raised his hands in surrender. “I know what you’re gonna say.” He shook his head.

“Do you?”

Your fierce glare on him had been unwavering, but as the pause dragged on, it faded into a look of terror. You turned away and covered your mouth in grief, only now just processing what had just happened. Allen couldn’t stop making mistakes. And you?

You kissed him.

“Yeah. ‘Fuck you, Allen. You’re the worst thing that’s happened to my life. I wished you never fucking came back.” He exclaimed, making you shrink into your neck from his intensity. His chest was rising and falling dramatically as he breathed. “I get it. Okay? I get it. And you know what? You’re right. And I’m sorry. But I just want you to hear me out.”

I’m gonna tell you something you   don’t want to hear I’m gonna show you where it’s dark,   but have no fear

“What? That you wished things ended differently?” You muttered, the whispered words barely in his earshot. Whipping your head to him, you showed your red face contorted with pain. “Well, guess what, Al? You can’t just, force everything to go your way just because you want to.” Bile had risen in your throat, and the tears returned in quiet streams.

“Come on, that’s not what I—” He winced.

You tried rubbing everything away, but to no avail. The tears just never stopped.

“—but it is. You brought me out here to do that, didn’t you?” Allen covered his eyes for a hot second; a last resort to hide the regret that ran through them. “So you did. But it’s too late for that, now. I’m with someone else, and I just left them by themselves at the fucking fair with Jason!” You choked.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Allen pleaded, earning a furious look from you. As desperate as you were to push him away, to save everything you had without him, your life with Alfred, and all your dreams, what he added melted your anger in an instant.

“But I just wanna tell you something,” He squeezed your hand tightly. “Just hear me out, please.”

“No. I can’t.”

“One last time.” He whispered. “Then you don’t have to listen to me ever again.”

His words spoke of cutting conviction, and his eyes, an endless sadness he could never live down. When you heard it, you had to look to the window to avoid crying even harder, knowing a single glimpse of his face was all it took. His beautiful, ugly face that smiled even in the darkest hours.

Whatever happened between you both, what he was about to say could be the last thing he’d ever say to you. He knew that. You did too.

So you listened with bated breath as he gathered himself in a thick swallow.

While he searched his soul for the exact words, the past, present, and future converged into one.

“You’re right in saying that I wished things ended differently,” He said, his voice no higher than a whisper to hide the cracks. “It’s my biggest regret, leaving you behind. Always was and always will be.” The words were like stones in his heart. As he finally let them out, the weight was lifted, one by one.

It was the one thing he failed to do two years ago, and now that he could, he felt strangely at peace.

“I thought I could make up for everything by giving you money, helping you out, buying that crib, just, being there, you know?” Allen grinned, but joy was hardly the word to describe what he was feeling. You knew that all too well, so you had to cover your head with your arms to contain the trembling.

“And I’m glad I did. But I need you to give it to me straight,” He continued, lifting your face up with a hand on your warm cheek. “So tell me to go, or to stay. I wanna hear it.” He felt you tense up in his fingers, a sure-fire sign he hit the mark.

This was finally it, and you were the one to decide how it ended. “I’ll listen to you this time.”

You never managed an answer. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to see Alfred yet, so going home wasn’t an option. Allen took you to his trailer in the meantime. Ten minutes in, the tense silence was broken by a few knocks on the door.

He went to answer it. Robin had been standing behind it, leaning to one side.

“There’s a phone call for her,” He began.

You sat up.

“It’s some guy called Alfred.”

|

“So, who’s the guy?” He murmured over your head. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”

You were laying on Alfred’s chest, feeling every breath go in and out of his body in slow rises. Your sweat-ridden bodies that pressed flush together never once repelled you. Every inch of his skin was another source of unlikely comfort. But upon hearing that question, cold feet settled in out of nowhere.

“Just some guy. Why?”

Alfred inhaled deeply, pausing to rephrase himself.

“Just curious,” You propped yourself up with your arms and loomed over him with a frown. “I promise.” He laughed breathily. “I’m not looking for a reason to be mad at you or anything. I already told you I don’t care about all that.” You sighed, then lowered yourself onto him again, albeit reluctantly.

There was no reason you couldn’t trust Alfred. But that didn’t make it any easier. After nearly a year, one would’ve thought you’d have moved on. But every time you thought about him, about Allen, your chest ached with the same pain on the day he left.

You thought you could hide it, from yourself and him, but Alfred was always more sensitive than he let on.

“It was just a fling, okay? I met him at the fair. He did the motorcycle shows.” While you unearthed old memories you wished to bury, he nodded tiredly.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been to one of those,” Alfred yawned, resting a hand on your back. “They’re pretty cool.”

“Yeah. We weren’t anything, so can we please stop talking about it now?” Your voice was no higher than a quick whisper to mask the hurt inside it.

Reducing what you and Allen had to something so meaningless affected you more than you wanted it to. But it had always been this way. The soft spot for him never went away when he did, and instead, grew at every passing day he wasn’t here.

But you had to ignore it for Alfred’s sake.

Allen wasn’t here for you.

He was.

|

That was one of the few conversations you talked about your past lover. You never mentioned Allen first, so it was always him. As he waited for you to pick up the phone, he lingered on the fact for an epiphany that took him too long to realize.

That night in bed, you were hurting. He’d been too tired to notice. But what he couldn’t excuse himself from was throwing away what Allen gave you for Jason’s first birthday. Alfred convinced himself he did that for your sake, to help you move on, but it was more self-serving than anything.

A dick move to soothe his short burst of jealousy.

And it probably only made you miss Allen more.

You were still in love with the bastard, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“Alfred?” Your voice grounded him faster than a cold splash of water. “It’s me.”

“Hey.” He smiled softly. There were so many things he wanted to say, but everything was lodged in his throat in a convoluted mess. The night was a somber mix of anger and muddled emotions, but what stood out most was a heart-wrenching sadness.

What he forced out only captured it.

“I missed you.”

A long pause followed.

If Alfred knew you like he thought he did, you were trying not to cry. Unbeknownst to him, he was right.

“I missed you too.” You murmured faintly. His lips twitched up some more, but the momentary joy was short-lived. His smile trembled away as he predicted what you would say, word for word. “I’m sorry I left you at the fair by yourself. I don’t have an excuse, so I don’t... I don’t wanna ask for your forgiveness.”

The mood was somber and knowing. You both understood each other’s feelings without having to relay them. The phone call was just a formality.

“I know. I know you’re sorry,” Alfred reiterated, bringing a hand up to his eyes. What he was about to say would break the ice that formed, a phenomenon that happened every single time Allen was involved. “But he probably forced you to leave, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I—”

“—you kissed him. I know.” His voice became a little strained, but he forced himself to keep walking down this road he took. “I saw, (F/N). I saw.”

You tried your damnedest to not break apart right then and there. You thought it hit you before, but here you were, reliving one of your biggest regrets that would turn into your salvation or damnation. However Alfred took it was entirely up to him. And you wouldn’t be able to hold it against him.

“I’m really sorry.” You choked, unable to fathom how hurt he must’ve been when he witnessed everything. “I get it if you want to break things off. I’ve been unfair to you for the longest time, not being able to focus on you. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Who said it was a waste of time?” Alfred muttered, shedding a few quiet tears himself. You covered your mouth to stifle any noises as you kept listening.

He’d been happy for nearly two years, being with you. Things may have turned a little rocky turn towards the end, but as sure as the sun rose, his love stayed constant. And it would stay that way as long as he breathed. “I don’t think it was a waste of time. I loved what we had. I loved dreaming with you.” Alfred sucked in a sharp breath to hold back a cry.

“And I love you, ‘kay? But I have to ask,” You closed your eyes as you prepared for the dreaded question.

“Did you ever love me?”

You would never forgive yourself to think he needed the reassurance. To think he wasn’t sure of something so true. But then again, what you did tonight, as well as many other nights beforehand, would’ve tested that and poisoned him with doubt.

“I always loved you. I fell in love with you the second you said you wanted to be with me,” You gushed. By then, you’d run out of tears to cry, but the outburst was the most emotional you’ve ever been. “I didn’t think I’d have a chance to be with anybody again. I was all alone when I had Jason. But you... You swept me off my feet. I was crazy about you.”

Blood rushed up to his face for a hot blush, and he was pleased to say it wasn’t because he was about to cry again. Not sad tears, at least.

“But you’re crazier about Allen.”

“Alfred, I mean it.” You huffed sharply. He chuckled on the other side, much to your relief. “I really do, Al. And I still love you, even if I don’t deserve to.”

“Then that’s all I wanted to hear.”

Allen drove you back home. Alfred had been waiting on the front porch. The second you saw the guy, you ran to him like the wind and plowed into his arms. While you both hugged, you both talked some more. As much as it hurt to let you go, he couldn’t force you to be with him when it wasn’t what you wanted.

But you made it pretty explicit it would’ve happened if the circumstances were different. He could be your lover in another life, just not this one. Allen was a little grumpy upon hearing it, but he didn’t have any complaints. What you had with Alfred was special, and he respected that—the guy looked after you in ways he couldn’t, so he ended up shaking on it.

Alfred gripped his hand crazy tight, a final display of his hot frustration with him after tonight, but they cleared a year-long feud nonetheless.

After all, they couldn’t be the only receivers of your love, no matter how fiercely they wished it.

You were at Alfred’s house for another week. Your mother decided to stay, which he was more than happy about. It gave you another reason to write him on top of being Jason’s godfather. Otherwise, you had a clear destination in mind.

Wherever Allen went, you followed.

“You ready to roll?” He asked, gripping your waist with untold affection. His smile on you was unwavering and spoke of endless possibilities. Allen was finally untethered from the past, and he would charge into the future with you, unrestrained and pining for more.

“Always.”

The feeling of his mouth on yours never felt so right.

Whether it was to his trailer or down to New York City courtesy of Mathias’s car, a favor he was doing him for something you had yet to find out, you were always by his side. Allen didn’t have to worry about leaving you behind again, and instead, he could focus on growing with you rather than apart.

#hetalia axis powers #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia x reader #axis powers ヘタリア #axis powers hetalia #alfredosauce50 #hetalia #america x reader #aph america #2ptalia #2p!americaxreader #2p america x reader #2p america #2p! america x reader #2p! america #2p!america #hws america #hws denmark #aph denmark #film crossover #movie crossover #the place beyond the pines #fanfiction #hetalia world series

[moonlit-jeno]

evanescence (m.)

pairing: kim jungwoo x fem. reader

genre/warnings: ghost au, explicit sexual content, angst, fluff, mentions of death, some graphic violence/ gore, character death, brief mention of heights, i swear it’s not as bad as it sounds

word count: 7.8k

summary:

evanescence (n.): the quality of being fleeting or vanishing quickly; impermanence; i.e the evanescence of dreams

song to listen to: me & your ghost- blackbear, faded in my last song- nct, trampoline- SHAED, lonely heart- 5  seconds of summer, dreaming with a broken heart- john mayer

notes: evanescence i.e not the band who wrote my immortal <3 part of the almost collab!

The thing about fear is that it’s irrational.

Of course the doll in the corner of your room won’t suddenly come alive and kill you. Of course the spider on your ceiling is actually harmless. Of course nightmares won’t come true and haunt you in your daily life, won’t do more than bother you for a few minutes when you’re asleep. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary. Doesn’t stop the shivers from crawling up your spine, doesn’t ease your breathing when you curl into yourself in an attempt to hide.

Some people find comfort in crawling under their blankets, hiding themselves from the rest of the world as if the thick cloth will protect them. You don’t have that luxury. Because the thing you fear isn’t some axe murderer breaking into your house, or some mutant spider wrapping you up in a web. It’s not ghosts or ghouls or demons.

It’s sleep itself.

You used to love sleeping. Naps were considered a favorite hobby of yours, a way to escape from your obligations temporarily or lift your spirits during a bad day. But the line between like and dislike is thin, and the peaceful dreams you were accustomed to transformed into terrors that torture your nights and leave you shaking and sleep deprived when you wake.

Coffee becomes your best friend, the drink becoming a crutch that you use desperately to avoid reliving the nightmare that haunts you every time your eyes fall shut. It’s always the same scene: a basement, a young man being tortured by a masked figure. Punched, strangled, stabbed. It’s always in that order, with the exact same amount of punches and stabbings each time- six. It’s worse than any movie you’ve ever seen, worse than anything that you can imagine. And yet it doesn’t get any less horrifying as time goes on, as you relive the same thing over and over again.

The only thing that changes is the point of view. Sometimes you can see it from his perspective, begging for mercy from an expressionless figure whose ears fall deaf to the boy’s pleas. That’s the worst, you think, because you can feel everything. It leaves you frantically checking yourself for wounds and marks and bruises, the vividness of your dream leaving you shocked when you find your skin unmarred. Sometimes you watch from the corner of the room, able to see everything yet unable to help, your voice stuck in your throat when you attempt to cry for help. And sometimes, you’re the killer, repeatedly delivering blow after blow in a body you can’t control.

Tonight’s different. Instead of the boy strapped to the chair, it’s you.

You shake and cry out, trying desperately to free yourself of the restraints. They aren’t strong, and yet your limbs feel like jelly and you can’t break free of them. A shadow looms over you and you look up, expecting to see the killer, but you don’t. Instead, the boy stands over you.

His features are softer like this, not scrunched in pain or splattered with blood and bruises. He smiles gently at you.

“Hello,” He says, kneeling down in front of you. One hand lands on yours and the restraints fall away, your limbs now free. “I’m Jungwoo.” You just blink at him. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.” Jungwoo’s smile falters a bit, and he huffs a humorless laugh. “That… yeah. That’s less of a dream and more of a…” He trails off, shrugs. “Memory.”

It takes a moment for it to process fully. Memory? If that’s his memory, then that means that he had to go through all of that. “I’m- I’m so sorry. Who put you through that?” He shrugs. “Dunno. But I wouldn’t pity me too much.” There’s a tight lipped smile on his face. “I’m the one that’s made you go through it, too.”

You blink once, twice, and feel the sympathy in your bones turn to fury. “Why?” You ask, tears brimming at your eyes. “I didn’t do anything to you! And you still tortured me, every night. Do you know how terrified I was? I am?”

“I’m sorry.” Jungwoo says, eyes downcast. “I didn’t even know I was projecting onto you at first. I would just get so consumed with what happened that night, and I guess you would relive the scene with me.” He takes a slow step towards you and raises his head. “I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.” You nod, because what can you say? Jungwoo doesn’t seem to know either and he stands there, shifting from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at you. “So.” You start, head tilting to the side curiously. “How does this work?” “How does what work?” Jungwoo seems surprised, but whether it’s by your question or by the fact that you’re able to string a coherent sentence together is lost on you.

“I dunno. This. Like are you a ghost? Do you just like, live inside my head now.” “Yeah, I mean I’m dead so I must be a ghost. Haven’t had much time to talk to people and ask.” It’s not meant to be funny, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing. You clear your throat to cover it, trying to focus your energy on your next words. He doesn’t look too hurt at your amusement, though. His eyes are twinkling. 

“Hmm let’s test it. If you live in my head, you should be able to hear my thoughts right?” Jungwoo stares at you, bringing one hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he snaps his fingers. “Got it! You want pizza.” “Nope! I want you out of my head.” Your smile is sickeningly sweet. Jungwoo rolls his eyes, tongue sticking into his cheek briefly before laughing.

“Well, I want to be alive but here we are. Guess we’re at a standstill.”

Guilt fills you and you open your mouth to apologize, but Jungwoo disappears right before your eyes. You try to call out after him but it’s too late, the dream’s over. The annoying beep of your alarm replaces his soft laughter and you groan, fumbling with your phone to turn the sound off.

Classes pass quickly for once, although you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t register any of the material. You’re done for the day before you know it, finding yourself at a cafe with Johnny. “You’re in a good mood.” He comments, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get replaced by aliens?” You roll your eyes. “I can be in a good mood, Johnny.” It’s rarely true because you’re normally running off of approximately six minutes of sleep, but hey, it still counts. 

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re never in a good mood. Not even when your best friend is here.” 

“My best friend is here? Where?” Johnny gives you a deadpan expression and you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. “Kidding, you know I love you. But guess what: I actually slept last night!” He gasps so obnoxiously loud that he inhales the chip he was holding and chokes around it, slamming his hand down on the table and hacking his lungs out. You put your head in your hands until he finally recovers. “You slept? You actually slept? Holy fuck, you did get replaced by aliens!”

“No aliens, John. No nightmares either.” Johnny, though he’s your best friend, doesn’t know the details of your dreams. He knows that they’re bad enough to make you cry and curl up in his arms from time to time, knows that you chug energy drinks to avoid sleeping, but that’s about it. No gruesome murders in sight for him.

“Holy shit, that’s great! We should celebrate.” Johnny reaches across the table to high five you, grinning from ear to ear. “Wanna come over and crack open a few cold ones?” He bites his lip and you know that it’s taking all of his effort not to finish that sentence. 

You appreciate it, but you shake your head. “I’ve got a lab report to finish plus like two papers due. I really don’t have time.” That’s only slightly true. Yes, you do have homework, but you normally wouldn’t let that stop you. The itch to see Jungwoo again, however crazy it may sound, is driving you crazy and for once in your life, you can’t wait to fall asleep. Seeing Johnny’s expression drop makes you feel a little bad for bailing on him with a ghost. “Maybe this weekend?” 

“Yeah, for sure.” Johnny grins again. “Hopefully you get to sleep tonight.”

The nightmares seem to go away permanently after that. Your dreams always take place in that one room, but Jungwoo’s always there to greet you. A month passes and you learn a lot about him, almost to the point where you see him as a friend. Almost. Because you can’t really be friends with someone who isn’t alive, right? But he feels real. His spirit is still alive, to the point where you forget he’s a ghost who you can only talk to in your dreams, and that’s what matters. Except tonight when you fall asleep, you open your eyes to sand and salt water, gentle waves calmly lapping at the shore. Strange. Jungwoo sits with his back facing you, knees drawn up to his chest. He doesn’t look up when you sit down next to him, but he does speak when you say his name softly.

“I think I figured out why I came back.” Jungwoo says, eyes concentrated on the water. “My brother’s in danger.” His head drops to rest on his knees and you pat his back, not knowing what to say.

You don’t learn what Jungwoo meant until the next night, the man so distraught that he isn’t able to form words before your time’s up. The scene is different again this time, a playground replacing the beach from the night before. Jungwoo sits on a red plastic swing, his feet dragging on the ground sadly.

“Hey Jungwoo.” You call out the greeting gently, taking a seat next to him. “Are you okay?” He nods, laughs a little. “Yeah, sorry for freaking out last night. It’s just. It’s a lot.” “Sounds like it is. You wanna talk about it?” You pat his knee comfortingly and he stares at your hand for a long moment before covering it with his own. 

He tells you about his brother first, about how much he misses Mark, about how bad he feels for leaving him on his own. Mark’s younger than him, but only by a year, and he was nowhere near as good as him at FIFA. He tells you that he doesn’t remember who killed him, but that as soon as he was transported to the beach, he knew his brother was in danger. There’s no explanation on how the beach told him that, but you have no place questioning the afterlife. You listen patiently throughout the whole story, and it seems to help Jungwoo, his shoulders sagging with relief when he’s done.

“So whoever killed me,” Jungwoo squeezes your hand, stares at the woodchips dragging around. “They’re going to kill my brother next.”

“So we find your killer. Easy.” You squeeze his hand back. “Mark’s going to be okay, Woo. I promise.”

~

Tonight’s dream takes place on a rooftop. There are lights strung up that lead you straight to Jungwoo, the man facing you with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. His arms are outstretched and you walk into them, sighing softly when he wraps you in his embrace. Lips press to your forehead and you swear you’ve reached heaven. “Dance with me.” He whispers it as if you have a choice to disagree with him when he looks this good. You nod and bury your face in his chest, swaying with him under the stars. There’s music playing now, music that you didn’t hear before, and he hums softly to it as you dance. A squeal leaves you when he spins you, dipping you down before pulling you close, your back to his chest. His lips graze your ear and he laughs before spinning you back around and pulling you into a kiss.

It feels so good and you find yourself getting lost in his touch. The warmth of him against you, the solidness of his chest under your palms. It’s so nice, so comforting, so… real. But it can’t be real. Because this is a dream, because Jungwoo is dead. The thought is enough to jolt you out of your haze and you try to pull back, need to pull back, but the hand on the back of your head holds you still and it feels so good that you almost don’t want to pull out of his embrace. “Jungwoo,” you mumble his name against his lips, not wanting to pull away from the kiss but needing to know the answer to your question. “Jungwoo, are you real?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Jungwoo chuckles, pulling you back for more. “Don’t I feel real?”

A gasp leaves you when his hand slips lower to your ass, squeezing before slipping between your thighs. He finds little resistance, easily reaching under your dress and past the thin panties you’re wearing to swipe through your folds and enter you, stretching you out deliciously well. You cling to him as if he’s your life line and not the other way around, letting him take you apart with his fingers. His name leaves your lips in a sob and you press your face against his neck, clutch at his shoulders. “Please, Jungwoo, please.”

Both of his hands slide to your ass and he picks you up easily, your legs wrapping around his waist automatically. He carries you over to the ledge of the roof, setting you down on the cool stone. He barely gives you time to take in what’s happening before he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes dark and so intense that you can’t look away from his gaze as he attaches his lips to your thighs. You slide one hand into his hair and he moans into your skin, the vibrations traveling through you as he kisses his way up your thighs and to your core. A sigh leaves you and you put your other hand behind you for balance, your heart dropping to your stomach when your fingertips wrap around the edge of the balcony. “Jungwoo!” You yelp immediately trying to stand up when you look behind you and see the darkness below you, decorated with lights from buildings so far down that they’re almost as tiny as the stars above you. “Jungwoo, I’m gonna fall. Ohmygod I’m gonna fall, Woo-”

“Shh,” Jungwoo hushes you, rubbing your thigh soothingly. He reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together, taking a moment to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Look at me, y/n. You’re not going to fall, okay? I’ll always be here to catch you if you do.” Something in his eyes looks so honest, so sincere, and you find yourself nodding slowly.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, too scared to raise it any louder and break the moment between you. “I trust you.” Jungwoo smiles up at you one more time before lowering himself down to your core. His free hand lifts the edge of your dress up and he takes his time rubbing slow circles into your clit, sighing out praises about how good you are when you shake from the unbearably intense sensation. His eyes stay on yours the whole time, even as he lowers his mouth to your pussy and eats you out like a man starved. It feels so good that you can barely process it, squirming against him and letting your eyes roll back. 

“Fuck, Jungwoo,” You whimper, feeling your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. “Shit, c’mere.” You use the hand buried in his hair to tug him up, pressing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss that feels way too good for the moment. He rubs messy circles into your clit that have you clutching him tight to your chest, crying out his name so loud that you’re sure the entire city can hear you. “You like that?” Jungwoo asks, although his voice is so cocky that you’re almost entirely sure he knows the answer. “Fucking love it,” You pant out, orgasm so close you can taste. “Love you, ohmygod.” The end of your sentence cuts off with a whine as you come so hard you nearly black out, holding onto him so tightly you’re sure you would’ve broken at least one of his bones if this were real.

If this were real, if he were real. If this wasn’t a dream with a ghost. The realization washes over you like cold water and the dream disappears before you in a flash, leaving you trembling and empty in more ways than one. Your hand is tingling and when you look at it, you realize that Jungwoo didn’t let go the entire time.

You’re not in your bed when you wake up. It takes you a moment to realize it, the weight of your dream still heavy on your mind, but then you open your eyes and process your surroundings and realize that even though you’re awake, you’re back in your nightmares.

A scream leaves you and you jolt out of the chair, falling flat on your ass. You scramble backwards a good few feet before relaxing, realizing that your mind was just playing tricks on you. This is no nightmare place, it’s just your basement. Except…

That chair is definitely the chair from your nightmares- or well, Jungwoo’s murder. You’ve never seen it down here before, but then again, you never go into the basement. It’s been years since you’ve been down here, the room always giving you the creeps. And you’ve never sleepwalked- you can’t fathom why you’d be down here.

“Jungwoo?” You whisper, not even flinching at the gust of cold air as he materializes next to you. “Why am I down here?” “This is where I was murdered.” Jungwoo murmurs, his gaze distant, cloudy. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Here? Are you sure?” He nods strongly, not an ounce of hesitation on his face. You get to your feet and watch him pace around, tentatively poking at objects. A violent shudder runs through him when he touches the chair. “Jungwoo, this is my house.” He freezes. “This is your house? Then you must know who murdered me.” 

There’s a long second where you just stare at him, not knowing what to say. Thoughts abandon you and your mind goes blank, leaving you to shake your head and stutter out objections. “W- No, Jungwoo, I can’t-” A deep breath, a heavy exhale. “No one ever comes down here, and I can’t remember the last time I even had people here.”

“Well someone had to come down here!” Jungwoo presses, motioning at himself. “Y/n, I’m dead. You could help me find who killed me.”

You spend hours thinking through every person you know, mulling over all of your friends and anyone else who has ever been to your house. Parents are ruled out immediately- they live across the country, first off, and your mom nearly cries whenever she so much as swats a fly. Jungwoo tries to help, but he doesn’t know anyone the way that you do, and he’s a tad bit negative.

“Okay, but how do you know they’re not killers.” He asks, tone flat. “I mean, do you have hard evidence? Because somehow none of them are killers, and yet…” He smiles humorlessly and holds his arms out, doing a twirl for you. “I’m dead.” “I’m trying.” You say tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s just hard. Literally no one ever comes over, and I can’t picture my friends as killers. Plus, no one has access to my house except for me.” You purse your lips, staring at your sad little notepaper list with dozens of names scratched out. “Is it possible this happened before I lived here?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” He doesn’t look convinced.

You purse your lips, groaning in defeat when your mind stays blank. “I’m sorry, Woo. We’ll figure it out eventually, I promise. I just can’t think right now.” “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for helping and not like, I don’t know, calling an exorcist.” Jungwoo presses himself to your side, poking your cheek when you laugh, and his presence is so comforting that it’s easy to forget that he’s not really there. You swat at him good naturedly, your laugh cutting off early when you realize that he’s disappeared. You call for him a few times, panic racing through your mind, until he manifests again a few feet away from you. 

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry! Did that hurt you? I didn’t know that would happen!” You jump to your feet, reaching out to him on impulse before thinking better of it. 

Jungwoo laughs softly, but his form flickers. “It’s okay. I guess you can only touch me in dreams.” He smiles, but it’s with his mouth closed tight. The chair becomes visible through his form as he flickers again. 

The mention of touch jolts your memories and you scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Wait, Woo, I meant to ask.” He looks at you expectantly, humming for you to go on. “Last night, in the dream. Was that like, was that really you?” “Hm? Are you asking if it was real or not?” Jungwoo asks. You nod, unable to look away from his gaze. “It was me, y/n. I’m real.”

You nod, lips pursed as you think it over. Jungwoo smiles though it’s hollow, hard to see the usual light in him when he’s nearly translucent again. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before vanishing, leaving you alone in the cold basement.

“Yeah.” You whisper softly, a dark cloud hanging over your head.

~

“What’s in the bag?” Johnny asks you, nodding towards your bookbag. It’s normally empty, save for a notebook or wallet, but today it’s stuffed full of newspaper clippings and binders. 

“Nothing.” You shrug. “Just some old articles.” 

Johnny thumbs through a stack of the papers before looking up at you, his forehead creased. “On murders?”

“Yeah. They’re interesting. Figured I should know the history of the town I live in, right?” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping you don’t look as insane as you feel. It’d taken you hours of searching to find those articles, digging through the library archives and reading murder after murder to find ones that seemed similar to Jungwoo’s case. They were unsettling, to say the least, and the fact that someone had taken a life under your own roof left you jittery. “I mean, I guess?” Johnny shakes his head and thumbs through a few more, hesitating at one of the clippings before shoving them back in your bag. “Kind of an appetite killer.” He says, pausing after a second and laughing. “Hah, get it? Killer…” The cold stare you give him has him sobering up quickly. He clears his throat. “Anyways. What else have you been up to? You’ve been kinda distant lately.” Have you been? Probably. “Sorry.” You shrug. “Caught up in my work, you know how it is.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “Seeing a new man?” You shoot him a withering look. He throws his hands up innocently. “Woman? Person?”

The word ‘ghost’ is on the tip of your tongue, but that sounds insane even to you. You can’t be seeing someone whose body fades out of existence when you so much as blow air on him too strongly. “No, Johnny. I’d tell you if I was dating someone.” “Promise?” He asks. You hold your pinky out to him, interlocking the digits and offering him a smile. He grins back. “Good. You wanna come over tonight? Play some video games, order some pizza?” 

It sounds good, and you really don’t want to be alone at your house after discovering it was the site of a murder, but you don’t want to leave Jungwoo. He’s kind of counting on you for something big, plus you have all those articles to show him… 

At your hesitation, Johnny pouts. “Come on, I feel like I’ve barely seen you for like, a month. Please? It’ll be just like old times.” The promise of old times has your resolve fading, and you give into his whining. He cheers and knocks your coffees together, dramatically complaining when the liquid splashes onto his sleeve.

~

Taking a nap had seemed like a great idea when you had gotten home from lunch, but it’s the first time you’ve dreamt without Jungwoo in your dreams, and all of the nightmares were so genuinely disturbing that you wake up sobbing. Every room seems so foreboding that you can’t bring yourself to sit in the house any longer and you run out the door without any further thought. The rain soaks through your thin sleep clothes and you find that you have three missed calls from Johnny, but you don’t bother to call him back. You’ll be at his place soon enough, and the rain is starting to blue the screen too much for you to see. Or maybe it’s your tears, you can’t be sure, and you really don’t care.

You knock on Johnny’s door, stepping back and impatiently shifting from foot to foot before stepping forward and knocking again. Exhaling harshly, you raise your fist to knock again. The door opens.

A very disgruntled Johnny stands before you, one hand wiping at his face. His hair is disheveled and you have the conscious thought that he must have just woken up, but your brain is flying a million miles a second and you don’t have time to spend worrying about if you’ve interrupted his beauty sleep. “Y/n?” Johnny yawns out, opening the door wider. “You were supposed to come over like 3 hours ago.” His sentence goes unfinished as you push past him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the living room. With your hands on his shoulders, you push him down to sit on the couch. He looks less tired and more confused now, which makes sense considering he’s never seen you act like this- you’re not even sure that you’ve ever acted like this- but he keeps silent, trusting you enough to tell him what the fuck is going on. He patiently puts his hands on his knees, watching you pace around the area.

It takes you a while to formulate exactly what to say to him. How exactly do you tell your best friend that you’ve been helping a ghost solve his own murder without him attempting to send you to a psych ward? After a few moments of pacing, in which you accidentally leave a trail of muddy footprints on Johnny’s carpet, you pause.

“This is going to sound insane.” You start, facing Johnny. He nods encouragingly, motioning for you to go on. “I need you to believe me. Promise me that you’ll hear me out until the very end.” Johnny nods. “No, I need you to promise me.” Maybe it’s how frantic your voice sounds, or the fact that you’re soaking wet and still breathing heavily from your run, but Johnny promises without hesitation. His voice is soft and his eyes are wide and you thank God for giving you such a good best friend. You search his eyes with your own, and finding nothing but encouragement and trust, you begin.

“Okay, so. You know those nightmares I’ve been having?” A nod. “Okay, so apparently there’s a ghost living in my house that’s been like, projecting their memories onto me.” Johnny blinks, not even trying to hide the skeptical look on his face. “Before you say anything, I know it sounds crazy. But ghosts are real. Jungwoo- Jungwoo’s real.” Johnny inhales sharply. “His name is Jungwoo?” 

“Yeah. He was murdered 4 years ago in my basement. My basement, Johnny.” You take a deep breath, shuddering. “Whoever did it is still out there, and Jungwoo thinks that his brother might be in danger.” You shift anxiously from foot to foot, hands wringing together in front of you until Johnny takes them into his own, thumbs rubbing over the backs of your hands to calm you. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you help me find him? I just need to make sure that he’s okay, and I know it’s silly that I promised a ghost but-” “I’ll help.” There’s a reassuring smile on Johnny’s face when he interrupts you, and you breath out in relief. “It’s okay, y/n. I believe you.”

You launch yourself forward into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t deserve you.” Johnny laughs. “Yeah, you don’t.” He pulls back from the hug long enough to look you in the eyes. “For right now, let's go to bed, yeah? You really look like you need some rest.”

~

“Okay, so here’s his address. I mean, I think it’s his address.” Johnny looks over your shoulder at the satellite image of Mark’s house, nodding. “We can get there in about two hours.” Johnny hums, stepping away from the computer. “I can get us there faster than that, don’t worry. C’mon, let’s have some coffee and then we can go.” He makes sure you eat something that actually has nutritional value before you go, even going as far as to pack a bag before you hit the road. Johnny does his best to reassure you throughout the drive, but you’re a nervous mess. You compulsively take sips from the water bottle Johnny had forced you to take with and it’s empty in no time, leaving you to drum your fingers along your thighs and squirm with a full bladder.

The house looks so much bigger, so much more foreboding in person. Johnny gives you a reassuring look and after a deep breath, you knock on the door. It takes a few seconds before it creaks open to reveal a man around your age peering at you through black-rimmed glasses that sit crookedly on his face. “Hello?” “Hi, Mark?” he nods, looking you up and down. “Do you have a moment to talk? I just have a few questions, it w-” He’s already moving to close the door before the sentence is even out of your mouth. “Wait, Mark!” You manage to wedge your foot in the door before it closes and he groans, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to buy anything, so if you could just please-” He tries again. “It’s about your brother!” You exclaim, finally succeeding in getting Mark to listen. He freezes and stares down at you dumbly. His eyes stay on you for a little too long before lifting to look behind you. 

“Johnny?” Mark asks, eyes widening. “Is that you?” You look over to find Johnny standing behind you, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, it’s me. How you doin, kid?”

Mark lets you into the house after tackling Johnny into a hug, offering you tea and a seat on the couch. “I didn’t know you knew Jungwoo,” You whisper to Johnny, watching Mark grab cups from the kitchen. 

Johnny shrugs. “Never had a reason to bring him up.” He definitely could’ve brought him up earlier, like when you mentioned you were seeing his ghost, but you brush it off as nothing. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you.

Mark returns, offering you each a cup of tea before taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “Wow, it’s been so long.” Mark laughs, clutching his tea for dear life. “It’s so good to see friends of Jungwoo’s again. It’s like, it’s not the same as seeing him but. It’s nice.”

“Good to see you too, Mark.” Johnny smiles. “I looked all over for you after Jungwoo’s death, but I couldn’t find you. When did you move?” Mark sniffs. “Um, I think like a month after it happened. They arrested the guy that killed him and I dipped. It was too painful to see all those little reminders of him everywhere.” Mark sniffs again, and wipes harshly at his eye. It makes you tear up a little too, thinking about how fondly Jungwoo talked about his brother, how unfair it is that they got ripped apart so soon. One phrase sticks out to you and you manage to reel yourself back in before you start crying too hard.

“Wait, they caught the guy? Do you know who killed him?” You side eye Johnny because he must have known that the killer was caught already, and it doesn’t make sense that he didn’t tell you considering that was the sole reason for this trip. 

“Um, well. Jungwoo uh, he had a sort of accident.” His hands are shaking, you notice. Some tea spills onto his leg. “He used to go out to all these parties and he swore he’d be safe but I guess he slipped up this one time.” Mark takes a deep breath and his voice cracks. “He was driving home from a party and he probably thought he was fine but he was way too drunk and he hit a pedestrian. He drove away but her boyfriend saw the whole thing and followed him.” Mark drops his head down and sobs a little.

Johnny moves to comfort him and Mark calms down after a few moments, skillfully changing the topic away from his dead brother. All the water that you drank in the car finally catches up to you and you excuse yourself for a second. Mark’s laughter rings clearly from the living room and you can’t help but to laugh too, smiling at Johnny’s ability to make everyone happy. You fix your hair in the mirror, a little spring in your step at the thought of being able to fulfill your promise to Jungwoo. 

You wish he was with you right now as you walk down the hallway back to the living room. There are so many pictures on the walls, Mark’s accomplishments framed proudly. It sends an ache through your heart that you’re here to see all of this by yourself. It’s only then, when you’re picturing Jungwoo exploring the house with you, that you realize how quiet it’s gotten. 

Frowning, you call out Johnny’s name. You get no response and call out again, finally catching movement out of the corner of your eye. “Johnny, why’d you sneak up on me?” A laugh leaves you when you turn to fully face him, cutting off only at the flash of color that slowly fades to black.

~

Your head is throbbing when you come to, vision taking a few seconds to clear up. A groan leaves you and you shake your head softly, coming face to face with Mark. A Mark whose mouth is covered with duct tape. You freeze, eyes widening, then look down to find that the rest of him is bound, too. “What-” 

Panic surges through you when you realize that your hands and ankles are bound too, and you jerk your head to the side, frantically searching to make sure that Johnny’s okay. You don’t find him. It’s only you and Mark in the room. “Johnny? Hey, whoever the fuck has us down here better leave Johnny the fuck alone!” You might currently be tied up, but the fact that your best friend is missing and potentially hurt overtakes any concern you may have for yourself. Mark’s eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically. You furrow your eyebrows and go to ask what he means, but you don’t get the chance.

“Oh, don’t worry. Johnny’s just fine.” The sentence comes from the man himself, standing right in front of the door. Relief fills you, turning to dread the second he closes the door and flips the lock. “You however…” “Johnny? What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he rolls his sleeves up to the elbow. 

He tips his head to the side, looking at you with confusion. “Isn’t it obvious?” The glint in his eyes matches the knife he picks up, the dim light catching on the shine of the blade. “For someone who apparently experienced Jungwoo’s death dozens of times, you should be able to figure it out.”

You blink once, twice, and then your eyes bug so far out of your head you worry they might fall out. A soft wheeze leaves you as your chest constricts, panic blooming in your gut. Johnny wheezes too, but his is a wheeze of laughter. He’s amused.

His eyes slide down to Mark, whose eyes are glimmering with fresh tears. “Did you know it was me Mark? Did you know it was me who killed your brother?” The boy shakes his head frantically, tears free-falling down his cheeks now. There’s some muffled cries that you think sound like no, but the tape traps them and makes him incomprehensible. “Really?” Johnny asks, stepping forward until he reaches Mark and then squatting down in front of him.

“Liar.” Johnny whispers, dragging the syllables out. The point of the knife presses into the boys throat, and while the noise Mark makes is barely audible, you can feel his suffering. There’s a tense moment as Johnny increases the pressure, Mark leaning backwards as far as he can to get away, before Johnny pulls it away. Mark exhales strongly, relaxing a little bit. He’s still crying. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

Tears would probably be rolling down your cheeks if you could process what was happening. But shock has taken ahold of you, and you can only watch helplessly as Johnny turns to glance back at you. “Thanks to y/n, now you’ll never get the chance to tell anyone.”

Johnny whips back around in record speed and slices the knife right through Mark’s throat. 

A scream leaves you and you fall forward, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the line in Mark’s neck wells with blood, the poor boy convulsing in horror. A wretched gurgling noise leaves him as he chokes and frantically gasps for air, made even worse by the duct tape over his mouth. Johnny sets the knife down delicately and uses that hand to pinch his fingers over Mark’s nose, effectively shutting off his air-flow. The fight drains out of Mark’s body along with his life, and it’s just a few more seconds before he stills completely. 

You can’t think of anything to say, can just gape at Mark’s body as Johnny lets go of him and the boy hits the floor. Johnny turns to you next, picking the knife back up. 

“It’s a shame you’re always so curious, y/n.” Johnny sighs, shaking his head. “You’re my best friend, I’m going to miss you.”

There’s the faintest breeze against your cheek bone, your hair blowing to tickle the back of your neck. You try your best not to shiver when it starts blowing against your wrists. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s not a draft from an open window, but it’s Jungwoo. He’s not visible, probably because he’s focusing his energy on freeing you. If Johnny notices anything wrong, he doesn’t say anything. Your wrists aren’t free yet, but you can feel the rope loosening. If you can buy yourself some more time…

“Why are you doing this? Why did you kill Jungwoo in the first place?” Your question obviously catches Johnny off guard and he stops walking, glancing off to the side and sighing softly. He seems to have an internal debate but then he shrugs, settling down on the floor across from you. It calms you a little to have him seated instead of looming over you, and you try your best to stay absolutely still.

When Johnny speaks, there’s a hint of regret in his voice. It’s hard to tell if it’s manufactured or not. “Jungwoo and I were best friends. We always had each others backs, always told each other everything. Ride or dies.” His eyes lower to his knife and he smears the blood around the blade with his thumb. “I was the one who hit the girl. I was drunk and it was stupid, but when I called Jungwoo to help me get rid of the body, he refused. He wanted to call the police, y/n. The police.” His eyes are brimming with tears now, and he looks up at you with an urgency that tells you to believe him. You don’t of course, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to convince you of his innocence, or himself. “My own best friend wanted to turn me in, y/n. I couldn’t let him do it.”

“How did you even get into my basement?” 

“You were at a training retreat in the mountains for that job you ended up hating that weekend. I knew that your house was empty and where the spare key was, plus I knew that no one ever went into your basement.” Johnny shrugs. “His body’s in the backyard, in case you were wondering. Buried him under the dahlias.” The red dahlias, your mothers favorite plant. How many times had she gone out to water and tend to the flowers, unknowing of the poor boy who lay beneath? Your breath catches in your throat and you finally can feel tears pricking the back of your eyelids. 

“You’re sick.” The sentence is barely above a whisper, but it carries enough weight with it. Johnny’s entire demeanor changes, his face twisting into an ugly scowl.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one that was going to betray my best friend by letting him rot in jail! How fucking dare you.” The ropes fall off of your wrists and you grab onto them to prevent them from hitting the ground and alerting Johnny. All that’s left is the rope on your ankle, and then you can make your move. “Yeah? Aren’t you betraying your best friend right now? Just like you did last time?” “I should’ve used the duct tape on you.” He murmurs, tightening his hold on the knife.

There’s enough give in the ropes that you can wiggle your ankles. You just need a few more seconds. “Why didn’t you?” “Ran out.” Johnny breathes, lunging at you. You squeak and roll to the side, groaning when your legs refuse to function. Sitting on them for so long made them feel like jelly and they tingle as the blood rushes back to your limbs. “What the- you little bitch.”

Johnny attacks again and you dodge yet again, doing nothing but rolling around and avoiding him. You definitely can’t beat him in a physical fight, but you can probably beat him in other ways.

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat. “J-Jungwoo?” He stops moving, obviously trying to process how someone who is clearly dead can stand in front of him. Unfortunately, his body doesn’t quite get the memo, and he trips over Mark’s form. A sickly thud resonates through the room as he falls, followed by a deafening silence. 

When Johnny doesn’t move for a few seconds, you step closer to examine him. The first thing you notice is that there’s a little stain under his chest that’s steadily getting bigger, contrasting starkly against the wooden floor. The second thing you notice is the acrid stench of blood, too strong for the small room you’re in. Third is the tip of the blade sticking out of his back. After checking his pulse and finding nothing, you roll him over. You find the hilt of his knife sticking out of his chest and your breath catches in your throat. He must’ve landed on it when he tripped. You slump against the wall and try to catch your breath, staring at Johnny’s limp body and waiting for him to lunge at you. 

He never does. You look up to say thank you to Jungwoo, but you don’t get a chance. He looks right at his brother’s limp body and disappears, leaving you alone in the room.

You sleep as much as you can, hoping that Jungwoo will pop up in your dreams again. You cry when you sleep and you cry when you wake, until you get to the point where your eyes burn and your face swells and you can’t physically cry anymore. You cry until you’re exhausted and yet you can’t sleep, can only frustratingly toss and turn and scream silently through your raw throat, praying to a god that you don’t believe in to let you see Jungwoo, just one more time. That’s all you need. Just one more time to say goodbye.

Promises are mumbled into your pillow and chanted in your mind but there’s only so much you can do to keep them. You swear to never forget Jungwoo but the words are meaningless and do nothing to stop his face from fading. Slowly, his features become less clear in your mind, his laugh blending with countless others until you can’t differentiate them. You get him a proper grave in a cemetery, and you go from visiting his grave every day to going every few days, until weeks pass before you remember you wanted to leave flowers for him. The flowers last even less than your promises, wilting and rotting on the stone, becoming a sadly unrecognizable mess. You do your best to clean it, and you cry so hard the first time you see the mess that you almost black out, but it’s now a sight that doesn’t even phase you.

Time doesn’t stop to wait for you. It’s not long before you finish grad school and get a job offer in a city 1500 miles away, much different from this one. Your sister drives down to help you pack, easily helping you throw things that you need into a suitcase and counteracting your hoarding tendencies. Something catches your eye just as you’re leaving and you pick it up, frowning at the little resin flower. 

“What’s that?” your sister asks, leaning in over your shoulder. “Is that a dahlia?”

“I don’t know.” you furrow your eyebrows, trying to place why it seems so familiar, before shrugging. It makes a hollow sound when you toss it into the trash that seems to echo much too loud for such a tiny object.

She heaves your suitcase into your arms. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

You don’t look back.

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