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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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My Heart Breaks Pt. 2

Warning: Angst then Fluff

Buggy X FemReader

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Part 1

Replaced the Photo! Cause this was too perfect! Art belongs to Vamos_MK on twitter!!

You stared up at the blue sky with a tired sigh, finally you were free.. Over two fucking decades it had taken to escape and you did it God damn it!

For the last 20 years you had been imprisoned in the Impel Down- It had been awful yo say the least.. constantly you were trying to protect yourself and saw that the man who had sent you here had been extra cruel in doing so- well not you but the women who you took her place..

You still felt guilt in knowing she had died in your place.. but you couldnt help but be greatful she had wanted to die due to her cause in an accidental death. You hoped in her afterlife she was happy..

However death was definitely kinder then the prison- with monsters at every turn and trying to keep sex deprived prisoners from trying to have their way with you it had been a battle. You had scratched, fought and squeezed your way out of that hellhole.

After a changing of guards you had managed to slip out- unlike most of the prisoners in the Impel Down you had the enate abilies to swim so you did. Stealing a dingy that a negligent marine most likely left behind you made it out. Paddling like your life depended on it sway from that place, however you were in no position to cry in relief yet.

It was another 2 days of paddling before you manages to get to an island. Starving and dehydrated you snuck to the back end of the tiny island so no one saw your prison uniform. Stealing some berries and a pair of clothes from a small cottage you made it through the village, it was clear this place was poor- you blended in with the people who were just as hungry as you and with less berries then you had nabbed.

You went into a pub getting what you could afford, which was bread and cheese and a ale. You took these and stood outside to eat your meal which tasted no better then ash in your mouth.

Looking around you saw two better dressed men walk out of the pub, batting a poor boy on the back and laughing. Congratulating him for joining their merchant ship- catching your ear you finished your meal and drink quickly, following the men. Seeing a large ship with a line of young men wanting to join the ship for a better life and opportunity, so you join them.

Once you reached to the top of the ship, a old man held out a cane to your chest to keep you from moving forward.

"What do you want lady?-" The old Captian sneered at you, Glaring down at your dirty form.

"You're looking for sailors correct?" You say sharply, Taking a steady breath to still your nerves.

"What can a thing like you do on a ship? Do you even have sailing experience?" The Captian laughed in your face. You clenched your fist and glared hard at the asshole.

"Yes I have sailed since I was young- I can.. do cleaning and maintance" You lied a bit- not talking about your skills as a thief since this is just a merchant and not pirates like you were used to. The Captian stared at you for a moment before sighing with a shrug.

"Fine- Welcome to the May's Fairy Lady" He grumbled as he gestured for you to get on board. Sighing in relief as you had a way to sea and a income.

However that was better said then in reality-

To say the merchant ship was terrible as well had been an understatement- It was like the Impel Down all over again.. a group of touch starved and angry men who saw you as an easy target. Thankfully due to your skills you were able to evade any advances, during the day you would stay in the Lower Deck to avoid the men, cleaning and eating the stale bread and water you snagged not trusting the cook since he liked to Leer at you far too long.

At night you would travel to the Main Deck and clean up there and sleep till dawn or if the ship rocked a bit too hard. This had been your like for 3 months till one evening.

While mopping the floor of the deck you looked up at the dark sky, remembering the night with Buggy before that big heist. Grabbing him and kissing his suddently as a way to express your interest in him... your heart hurt at remembering his face when you saw him last at the bars of the window, Placing your bandana and kissing a kiss on the back of his hand.

Snapping you from your melancholy thoughs was a loud bang, seeing what looked like a firework shoot up right above you. Several crew mates from below deck also came up at hearing the noise, you watched the firework come directly on top of the ship before exploding in a cloud of red- It was beautiful. Your favorite shade of red too. The crew began to panic at seeing this as the cloud settled on the ship, you felt woozy and uneasy on your feet before you fell to the damp ground before darkness took you a large shadowy form of a ship came closer and you swore you heard circus music.

Groaning you felt yourself sitting up, a harsh digging from metal against your ankles and wrist. Jerking awake you saw you were seated in wooden benches in a dark room, Hearing the groaning and panic of others around you. You pulled at the chains slightly but winced at how tight they were.

Suddently bright lights turned on, You saw your crew chained up and seated next to you staring at a lowered stage. Your breath picking up as circus music started up, watching as different acts come up- it was almost exactly like how you remembered the show you went to in your childhood? Like someone recreating it from memory? People pulled out sighs to applaud which you saw the merchant nervously do.

"No No NO! It's wrong! That is not how a crowd should clap!" You heard a sharp voice say, walking onto the stage- He looked like a pirate Captian and not apart of the circus. You did see clown paint on his face and a red clown nose- which made your eyes narrow at the sight.

Your eyes focused on the grown man- Watching as he commanded the crowd with a twisted smile and yelled at the circus people. He sighed dramtically and looked in the direction of the crowd- chastising them for their lack of enthusiasm and not laughing with the cues. However the wind felt like it was knocked from your lungs.. You knew those eyes.. that blue hair expertly tucked away and real rounded red nose.

"Bugs?" You called out loud by accident- You saw his whole body freezes mid step. A twitch seemed to have shot through his system as your merchant crew mates all looked back at you with a mixture of pity and fear. You swallow a nervous lump as he did a slow turn in your direction, your face still clouded in shadows by the lack of lights in the audience section. Doing a silent hand movement his crewmates assended on you, yanking you from your restraints roughly and pulling you to the stage with little grace and tossing you at Buggy's feet. Rubbing your swore wrist you looked up at your childhood friend through your mess of hair.

"What the Hell Bugs? Shackles!? When the fuck do you use Mph!-" You were cut off as he grabbed your face hard tp pull you to your feet, his eyes wide and overly dilated like he was seeing a ghost. You actually felt afraid? His eyes seemed different and there was a unknown emotion behind them, you tried to wiggle free but he held you firmly taking his free hand and pushing the hair from your face fully at seeing your face you see it looks like all the air has been sucked from his lungs and he releases you quickly, you stumble back barely able to catch yourself as he stares at you with wide eyes.

"You're alive?..." He said in utter shock. You nod and cough a bit as you rub your sore jaw from his grasp. You open your mouth to speak but he holds a hand to you to silence you. His eyes looking more like what you remembered, that swirl of never ending emotions.

"Cabaji- Take her to be washed, fed and dressed. Leave her in my quarters" He commanded, the green man nodded heavily and grabbed you far gentler now to lead you off stage.

Just as instructed a group of people washed you up in a massive copper bath with nice hot water, dressed you in simple trousers and a tunic and quickly dropped you off with a plate on the end table of the large bedroom.

Seated in a massive bed you look down at the hot plate set before you, your manners thrown out the window as you tucked in. Having been far too long since you had a hot filling meal-

Without thinking you rapidly start eating it, it tasted like heaven enough for tears to well in your eyes as you ate. Before long the plate was gone- and you felt nauseous, yout mistake of eating too quickly and food you hadn't experienced in 20 years. You scrambled up to the nearest trashcan and began to vomit- so hard you didn't hear the door open. Only when a gentle hand touched your back which made you flitch and turn around to see Buggy, his eyes wide at your reaction before your body lurches and you vomited again. Buggy held your hair back this time as you vomited into the poor trashcan.

"Sorry... it's been a while since I got a hot meal" You admitted, spitting the taste of bile away from your lips as you sat back.

"It really is you" Buggy said in disbelief still, Getting down on his knees next to you as he looked over you. How you looked so unhealthy and weak- even after being cleaned he could see that abuse had done its work on you.

"Dear Gods... What happened to you?..." Buggy voice finally cracked, his hand reaching out and cupping your cheek his thumb running over the heavy bags under your eyes and the new scars that had set on your face.

"...I survived" You say softly, Leaning into his warm touch feeling tears begin to fall. In seconds Buggy held you tightly in his arms, your face pressed against his chest as ragged sobs left you, maybe it was finally being free from both jail and the hardships on that awful merchant ship but feeling Buggy's arms around you holding you close just finally released that emotional valve and you cried.. Harder then you had in your entire life into his chest.

You felt his hands smooth over your messy hair and rock you side to side as you sobbed against him. You tried to speak but sobbing nonsense was all that left you and was mumbled through Buggy's shirt.

After almost an hour of crying against Buggy you had worn yourself out, sniffling against him as he gently pulled back to look at your reddened face. His own makeup having dripped away from his red eyes- clearly he had been crying too while holding you.

He wiped your face with his gloved hand and laid kisses on your forehead to comfort you.

"You never have to just survive again... I-Im sorry (Y/N) I couldn't save you" His voice cracked at that, you shook your head.

"I-It would have been impossible. You two would have been killed..." You say with a sniffling tone, trying to control your tone and keep from crying again. Buggy asked what had happened, as you told him the story of your escape, prison time, the pain you had suffered and how you'd escaped to be hired by those merchants. He listened dead silent the whole time his hands rubbing circles in your arms to comfort you. However you saw the rage in his eyes at the pain you'd gone through.

Once done explaining yourself he nodded at this, like he was trying to find the words to explain but couldn't. Instead just giving a bitter chuckle at this, shaking his head in anger. He reached up and took off his hat with a angry sigh and tossed it aside. Your eyes catching the bandana underneath and reaching a hand out to touch the fabric.

"You kept that?.. after all these years?" You whispered confused, the anger on his face leaving as he heard this and left your touch. Reaching up and gently pulling off the old bandana for you to see.

"Of course- you gave it to me... W-When you... left. I was destroyed" He admitted, you stared at him with tears starting to fall from you again.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the face that had let you down.. so I changed- I smiled for you, wore your favorite red and became Buggy the Clown"

He said with a chuckle and gestured to himself. You bit your lip to keep from crying more, he wiped your tears away with a shaky breath.

"You did that for me? Why?" You whispered, he stared at you silently before having a nervous smile.

"I love you"

His words made your heart skip- like that spark of life from when you were 15 had hit you again. Your eyes met his, he also seemed taken aback by his admittance.

"You love me?" You questioned, seeing him nervously mess with his gloves. He always did have little nervous tics like this whenever he was in a odd position, however peeling off one of his gloves to dig his nail into his palm he nodded. You reached forward and took his hand into your own to keep him from harming his hand further.

"Well I'd hope so after giving you my first kiss on that little boat"

You both giggled at this. You rubbing your thumb on his naked palm, seeing the deep scars that covered his hands- like he had dug his nails into them so many times that his palms was covered in smiley faces.

"Of course, didn't hurt it was my first kiss too" He chuckled but you winked at him.

"Don't lie, I remember the story of you and Shanks running on deck and your guys mouth smashing together. That counted" Buggy shiffered in disgust at the memory and wrinkled his face which made you laugh.

"That doesn't count!" He protest which earned more laughter from you, he smiled widely at this.

"Sooo if both of us are still interested, Would you like to continue what should have been?" You asked, giving him a blushing smile which he returned. A big Goofy grin on his face-

"Well, let's get you healthier first. What about a dinner date?" He suggested, almost giddy and you could see that same boy you once knew under that makeup again.

"Sounds perfect"

TAG LIST:

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#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #bugg

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bookofbonbon · 5 months

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strut: into the archives - coriolanus snow.

Characters: Coriolanus Snow.

Warnings: Not edited so, bad grammar and probably bad spelling. Anything 1k+ is immediately too long for me to want to read back and edit.

Summary: Coriolanus is determined to find out who you are.

Word Count: 1800+.

A/N: They don't interact in this one. It's just all Coriolanus fretting over the fact that he doesn't know shit about reader and being determined to find out. Boring, I know however, this will be the segue into the beginning of their relationship!

Sleep evaded Coriolanus, your words playing over again in his head and haunting him throughout the night.

I think you know exactly what I mean, Coriolanus, or would like me to fetch a jabberjay to explain it to you?

The map in his hand crumples under the pressure of his closing fist.

It made no sense, how could you have known about the jabberjay? Nobody had known, except for Dr. Gaul and what benefit would it be to her to release that information? None. Nobody else had known and he had tied up all of his loose ends… hadn’t he?

Early morning chirps drew his attention to the window and away from the smoldering fire of his study's fireplace; the first rays of sunlight peeking from behind the drawn curtains - reminding him that yet another day had passed and still he knew absolutely nothing of weight about you and yet you? You already knew his darkest secret.

Leaning forward, his elbows dig into his knees as he haphazardly runs his hands through his hair and down his face; trying hard to drag something up of substance about you from last four or so weeks ago for what had to be the hundredth time that night.

The most he could recall was that he returned from District 12 and there you were, Sejanus's estranged cousin - he'd only heard of you once before from Sejanus but of course, Coriolanus wasn't actually listening so, he couldn't recall - and he didn't question your presence, why would he? Why would he care when he was finally returned to where he rightfully belonged in the Capitol. He had been honorably discharged from the Peacekeepers effective immediately, awarded the Plinth prize, studying under Dr. Gaul and interning as a Gamemaker not to mention that with the way things were going for him, he was sure he would soon be named the heir to the Plinth’s Munitions empire.

He alone, Coriolanus, was restoring the Snow name to its former prestige; finally getting back all that he had been owed. So why the hell would he have cared about the plain faced girl standing beside Ma Plinth when she and old Strabo greeted him for the first time upon his return?

Coriolanus had simply dismissed your presence as Ma bringing in a stray Plinth - an attempt to mend her broken heart. Of course, Coriolanus's return brought them to their senses, reminding them that he was Sejanus's best friend and only he could fill the Sejanus shaped hole left in their lives. You were still there of course but, he had completely- stupidly disregarded you and your slights toward him as absurd District prejudice against those from the Capitol - she's no threat, he had told himself, guard as far down as he ever let it… what a mistake that had been.

It took you quite literally hitting him with your car for him to identify you as a threat - maybe you were right, maybe he was too busy strutting about.

Coriolanus scowled, standing from the butter-soft, leather, armchair and made for his bedroom; putting an end to his sulking effective immediately with the sun's rising. Nothing would come from ruminating on what he hadn’t done while daylight was burning and it was clear that there was only one thing left for him to do and that was finding out exactly who you were.

He’d already had the wool pulled over his eyes by Lucy Gray, he wouldn’t allow you to do the same and he’d start at the second commonplace the two of you frequented.

Showered and immaculately dressed, the sun was still rising into the sky when Coriolanus climbed the steps of the Citadel.

He bypasses the high security zone with ease, the peacekeepers nodding in his direction; Coriolanus thankful for the odd hours that Dr. Gaul called on him as it didn't raise suspicion about his earlier than normal visit. That and he knew his presence was both welcomed and revered by those who worked in the grand building.

His strides are long but evenly paced as he walks the familiar route toward the elevators once inside; there he waits impatiently, smiling tightly at the two people who passed.

Ding!

The ride is an agonizingly slow few seconds and when the doors finally slide open to reveal the unfamiliar floor to Coriolanus, the first thing he spots is the huge sign hanging up ahead with bold block writing-

ARCHIVES

It’s as pristine as every other floor he had visited so far in the Citadel; however, there was something particularly sterile about it.

Approaching the front desk; a short, lithe woman stands behind it, her Citadel uniform pristinely pressed and fitted and without a single flaw; a reflection of the immaculately organized files he could spy beyond the glass wall that stood behind her.

“Hi,” Coriolanus greets her with a charming smile but she doesn’t spare a single glance his way so he goes the other route - straight to the point.

“I require all documents on the Initial Jabberjay Project.”

This gets her attention, “for what purpose?”

“I’m working with Dr. Gaul and Dr. Kay on the repurposing of the jabberyjays.”

She eyes him suspiciously at first until her gaze settles on his security clearance badge.

“Private Snow?” she questions.

This time Coriolanus becomes suspicious, head cocking to the side in question; no one had called him that since he left District 12.

“I recall your name from the files on the District 12 Reserve of the Jabberjay and Mockingjay, Species” she explains, gesturing to the device in front of her. “We just finished processing the files onto the new computer system.”

“Uh- yeah, that was me,” Coriolanus relaxes with what he hopes to be a sheepish smile. “You can just call me Coriolanus now.”

He never wanted to hear anyone call him Private Snow again, he didn’t need the reminder of that disgustingly horrid place.

“Sign in here,” she hands him a form, a tray appearing from a cavity in the desk. “Place your bag in there and come around the side once you’re done.”

He does as she says, coming up the side and meeting her at the first barricade - where she completes a security check on him - and then to the second glass barricade.

Once through, she provides him with white gloves, directions to finding the Initial Jabberjay Project files and directions to the files on the District 12 Reserve, "if you're interested."

Pulling the gloves on, Coriolanus thanks her but, before he can venture further inside, she stops him.

“I’m glad you put forward the slaughter of those mockingjays. They’re unnatural and their species should be eradicated. Well done, soldier.”

Pride swells in his chest at her praise and she salutes him. He returns the gesture instinctively and she turns swiftly, disappearing back through where they came, the door closing behind her.

The resounding click of the door alerts Coriolanus to the fact that he’s now locked in the Archives without any way to escape. Heat prickles at his skin, the same trapped feeling of being in the arena creeping up on him slowly but he shakes it away before its grip can cease him.

You're in the Capitol Archives in the Citadel, he reminds himself. You're safe.

Not bothering with the Initial Jabberjay Project files, Coriolanus makes his way to the District 12 Reserve files - they’re new and already on the new computer system and more of a chance for him to be able to actually take the files out of the building.

Making his way to his second destination, Coriolanus follows the directions he’d spent all night memorising; the map of the archives burnt into his memory having studied it all through the night when sleep would not come; taking him further and further into the archives until finally, he arrives at his intended destination - Employee Records.

He moves quickly but there's hundreds, thousands, maybe tens of thousands of files and it takes him longer than he expected to find your file but he does find it eventually and it’s thick. How? Why?

He shakes the train of thought, refocusing himself and, thanking whatever higher power that decided that Project files should be housed in boxes instead of folders because there was no way that he could’ve smuggled your employee folder out otherwise; it was far too thick.

With sweat gathering on his brow and his breaths coming out heavier, Coriolanus removes the contents of your record from its folder, then opens the box and takes the equivalent of your records out, swapping the two then swiftly replacing the lid on the box and your folder back into the cabinet.

He makes his way to the exit, calming himself the entire way; the box feels heavier in his clammy hands but he knows it's not.

Pushing down on the intercom button, another few agonizingly slow seconds pass until the same lady appears before him.

She immediately raises an eyebrow at the box in his hands, her voice coming through the intercom, “you can’t remove the Initial Jabberjay Project files from here.”

“It's the District 12 Reserve files, not the Initial Jabberjay files,” he holds the box up, showing her the label.

“I thought you needed the Initial Jabberjay Project files.”

“I did, but these are far more informative on the biological makeup of jabberjays," he explains, a story already fabricated. "The research undertaken for the District 12 Reserve has resulted in further developments into the jabberjay that the Initial Jabberjay Project files don't contain.”

“You still can’t remove those, you can access them on the new computer system, put them ba-”

“Please, my access doesn’t come through for another week, I’m just an intern and I need these otherwise- otherwise Dr. Gaul will…” Coriolanus trails off pathetically, swallowing thickly and leaving it to her own imagination to guess what Dr. Gaul would hypothetically do to him.

It was all lies of course. Coriolanus was one of the first to gain access to all Project archives that had been uploaded onto the new computer system - Dr Gaul ensured it. Unfortunately, access to Employee Records was not a part of that access and well above his security clearance.

When she doesn't budge, Coriolanus makes a show of having his expression fall, shoulders slumping dramatically as he makes to return the box-

“Fine,” she concedes. “But, you are to return them within 24 hours otherwise I will personally place you under arrest for their removal.”

Coriolanus doesn’t listen as she clears his exit and rattles off whatever care and safety precautions he needs to take while handling the files; pulling the gloves off, he practically runs to the elevators when she finishes. Only allowing himself to breathe easier and relax entirely when he finds himself back in the safety of his home and in the comfort of his study - the sun shining high in the sky through the uncurtained window.

Setting himself up comfortably behind his own desk, he opens the box with steady hands and removes your files.

Finally able to study them, he’s immediately taken aback by the sight of your picture staring up at him. His fingers ghost over the picture then curl in on themself; taking in your rounded face and hopeful eyes; you looked young - a child. Coriolanus’ eyebrows draw together in confusion, his fingers pressing into the centre of his palm

How long have you been in the Capitol? Working in the Citadel?

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Heyy

Can I request something fluffy with tasm!Peter where the reader refuses to kiss him cause she's coming down with a cold (definitely not me projecting myself into this) and peter doesn't care cause he loves her kisses sick or not

Thank you for your writing *lots of hugs*

-🔮

Oh no, hope you feel better soon lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 633 words

“Baby.” Peter’s trying to sound serious, but he’s giggling, chasing you about as you try to evade him. “C’mon, just one.”

“No!” You dodge his hands, dashing around the bed to put something solid between you. “This is for your own good.”

“I don’t care.” He pouts. “Listen, I’m gonna get sick anyway. Why delay the inevitable and deprive me in the process?”

You give him a hard look. “You’re not going to get sick if you keep away from me.”

Peter scoffs. “Babe, please. That’s not happening.”

You cross your arms. “You don’t want this cold,” you reason with him. “It hasn’t even set in all the way for me yet, and I can tell it’s gonna suck.”

He softens. “That’s what I’m talking about, sweetheart. There’s no way I’m not going to take care of you while you’re sick, so why bother with this? Let’s just cut to the chase.”

You hesitate. It really isn’t easy to resist him, looking so soft and kissable with his hair all ruffled from the wind outside and that slight pout to his lips. He’s making his eyes extra big to get to you, you know it. But you’re trying to spare him.

You start to shake your head, but Peter makes to dash around the bed, and you do the first thing you can think of to avoid him, diving under the covers.

Peter chuckles darkly, and you feel him crawling on top of you, his hands prodding at your form through the fabric.

“Bad idea,” he tuts. “I’ve got you right where I want you now.”

“Shut up,” you say, but you’re unable to keep from laughing as his fingers find your side, making you squeal and squirm away from his touch. “Stop! All you have to do is leave me alone for a few days, and then I’ll get better and we can kiss all you want.”

He hums disapprovingly. “You’re asking too much of me.”

He straddles you, hands climbing toward the top of the sheets. You curl your fingers into the fabric determinedly, tensing in anticipation of his attack, but then Peter hesitates.

“Honey,” he says, voice softening slightly. Even though he can’t see you, you narrow your eyes, mistrustful of this change in mood. “You’re only not kissing me because you’re getting sick, right? Like, if you weren’t, you’d want to?”

You hesitate, bemused. “Of course,” you say slowly.

“So you’re cheating both of us by holding out, huh?”

You only scoff, but apparently that’s enough confirmation for Peter, because he uncovers you with one good tug of the sheets, tearing them from your grasp.

“Great, just wanted to be sure.” He holds you in place with a hand at your jaw, pressing his lips to yours with a smack.

“Peter!” you huff, glaring up at him, but he only pats your cheek consolingly.

“There we go, baby, I’m all contaminated,” he says satisfiedly. “Now will you give it up and let me be close to you?”

“Not if it means rewarding your lack of self-preservation,” you grumble, but Peter only rolls his eyes, smiling at you like you’re silly.

“If you’re asking if I’m always going to want to take care of you when you’re sick, then yes,” he says. “Not sure there’s anything you can do to stop me, sweet thing. I know it must be awful, though, to have a boyfriend who loves you and your kisses so much.”

He’s trying to guilt you. It’s working, your eye roll nothing more than performative as you warm to the idea of letting him take care of you while you ride out this cold. Peter can tell, grinning down at you smugly.

“Kiss?” he asks, all but batting his eyelashes at you. “Please?”

This time, you oblige him.

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

Text

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

Jimin

“Go home, Jimin,” you ordered in a hard tone. You came home from a date only to see him standing in front of your door, clearly waiting for you. You heard him sniffed as he looked up at you, his pouty lips shaking.

“W-were you on a date?”

You looked at him dead in the eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

“B-but, I love you,” he pleaded at you, tears falling from his eyes, the same eyes you thought was the most beautiful.

“Apparently, not enough to stay loyal to me,” you replied dryly before opening your door. You were about to slam the door to his face when he pushed the door, careful not to hurt you. Jimin had always been strong. His built made him looked harmless, but you saw the muscles in his body, felt how strong he was on the nights he couldn’t be gentle as he made love to you.

So it came to no surprise to see him easily stopping the door with only his one hand.

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, stop it. You don’t want to see me jealous, baby. I don’t know what I will do if you ever look at another man again,” he said in an emotionless voice, his face losing the sadness it had mere moments ago. In its place was a serious, yet terrifying expression.

You should have been scared.

“Go home, Jimin.”

Why would you listen to him? You weren’t cheating on him. He did. And now you were moving on, he had no right to go to you and cry as though he wasn’t the reason why you had to start over again.

But you should not have underestimated his obsession for you.

“Mom!” You called out as you entered her home. She hadn’t been responsive of your calls for days that you decided to finally visit her. She normally didn’t answer calls, too busy with her own group of friends in the neighborhood that at first it didn’t bother you. But you felt that this was something different.

What alleviated your fears was seeing the lights turned on in the house, the sound of someone cooking in the kitchen made you shook your head. Perhaps, you had been watching too much murder mysteries. “Why weren’t you answering my calls…” you trailed off when your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, stepped out of the kitchen.

“Baby, you’re home!” He beamed at you, walking around the dining table to go to you when you stepped back.

“W-what are you doing here? Where’s my mom?”

He smiled in that angelic way of his, one that made you say yes to him before. But now, it looked sinister. Now, it looked wrong.

“She’s…somewhere.”

“What did you do?” You whispered as you felt the wall behind your back. You had nowhere else to go and he knew it. “J-Jimin please-“

“Shh,” he gently shushed you before caressing your face. God, he missed your face. He missed your heat. He missed you.

He craved you.

“She’s safe, baby. Do you want to go to her?”

You could only nod.

He smiled at you, “We’ll go to her, baby. As long as you’re a good girl.”

It was obvious. This was a threat, a barely concealed threat. It was like Park Jimin, a devil wrapped in an angelic face.

“Will you be my good girl once again?”

Your nod cemented your fate.

Taehyung

“Let go of me!” You shouted at the man carrying you over his shoulder. “Unhand me, you brute!” You were trashing your legs around, beating your fists against his broad back, yet Taehyung kept walking. His incessant need and despair for you made him determined to finally make his move, no matter how small it was.

Really. It was supposed to be a little thing, just something to see and talk to you. After all, it had been almost a month of you evading and ignoring him. Really, he was supposed to be calmed.

He really was.

But you just had to go and date some other man who could not even give you everything you wanted. And so, Taehyung saw red. If it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around him, he would have beaten the undeserving man to death. But Taehyung was too touch starved, too desperate of you that one touch of you managed to clear the haze in his mind.

He was quiet as he walked to his fancy car. He deposited you as gently as he could on the front seat, never minding your attacks on him as he fastened your seatbelt. The image of you seating in front of someone else that wasn’t him, the image of you holding someone else’s hand unleashed the barely restrained beast he had inside him. One that you only managed to peak at during the times when he slipped.

“Calm down or I’m going back there to finish what I started,” his deep voice was terrifying, yet the message he partook made you froze. The Taehyung you knew was a gentle soul, someone who would never even kill a fly, someone who took his time to appreciate flowers. This was not him.

But really, did you ever know him? The real him?

You watched in bated breath as he got in the car, your eyes wide as you watched him movements. How could he be so calm as though he didn’t beat someone? As though he wasn’t a punch away from almost killing him?

He terrified you now, a feeling you were unfamiliar with when you were still with him. Would he hurt you? Would he be too uncontrollable that he would lay his hands on you?

Taehyung took a calming breath as he drove away. He could finally feel peace now that you were near. He could finally feel the beast inside him retreating, making him feel human again.

“W-where are you taking me?” Your voice trembled. He was driving calmly with one hand, the other gripping your hand despite your obvious resistance.

“Where else?” He flashed you his sweet smile, his eyes leaving the road for a second to look at you. He was utterly handsome, but his eyes were frightening. “To our new home.”

“W-we broke up-“

“We just had a small fight, princess. That’s all,” he cut you off in a hard voice, signifying that this was the end of discussion.

“It was not a small fight and you know it! You cheated on me in that house-“

You felt his hand squeezed yours for a moment before running his thumb on it. “That’s why I bought us a new house, princess. It’s in a good neighborhood, close to good schools. And our house has more rooms so when we finally have a child, we would be ready.”

Your jaw slackened at his delusional words. Child? A house? School? Taehyung was certifiably insane, you were certain now. He brought your clasped hand to his lips, looking at you with all the love he felt before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

“We will never be apart again, princess. I promise you that.”

Jungkook

It wasn’t easy leaving Jungkook. But hiding from him proved to be a challenge. If you thought he was bad when Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had to hold him back just so you could leave, he was worse now. After that fateful day when Yoongi managed to stop the golden maknae by some divine intervention, you went straight to your best friend’s house, seeking refuge from the chaos that was your life. You couldn’t go to your parents’ house because you knew he’d immediately go there. You couldn’t go to your and his apartment because that would be similar to walking straight into a lion’s den.

You rationalized that you wouldn’t hide forever, that it was just now because you couldn’t face him. Not when he betrayed you. Not when the image of that girl sucking him off was still ever so present in your mind. Not when how he reacted terrified you.

But days turned into weeks. And his desperation for you only seemed to multiply, his messages and calls seemed more frequent. In his twisted head, you were still his and what happened was merely a bump in your road. And if you were his, didn’t he deserve to know where you were? What you were doing? Who you were with?

You sighed in irritation as you reject yet another of his calls. Couldn’t he take a hint?!

“I’m sorry about that,” you said apologetically to your date.

He merely smiled before putting down the glass of wine. He was your colleague, a friend of yours before you even dated Jungkook. He was kind and simple, exactly what you needed right now. He waved off your apology, “Clingy ex?” He asked jokingly.

“Something like that,” you mumbled.

A date turned into two, which turned into more.

It felt nice to go out there and date simply without any restrictions that came with dating an idol. Perhaps, your breakup was a blessing. But to Jungkook, it was a curse.

It was especially a curse now as he looked at your social media. You were tagged by some asshole on a picture of you drinking wine, your eyes looking at the camera and a small smile on your lips.

Was that it? As he was breaking down, you were out there trying to forget him? Trying to move on from him? As if he would let you?

As though he would go down without a fight?

Well, if you thought he would let you slipped from his grasp that easily, if you thought he wouldn’t die first before letting you go, you were so fucking wrong.

It was midnight when your phone kept ringing. And when you finally looked at your notifications, your whole world collapsed before your very eyes.

Jungkook just posted a picture on his social media of you and him on the day he proposed to you. You were proudly showing off your ring to the camera as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

God, what had he done?

You could feel your heart beat louder, drumming against your bones. You could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe just thinking about what would happen to you now that the whole world knew your face, now that the whole world thought of you as his. You were certain you couldn’t leave the apartment, that you couldn’t go to work with all the reporters and fans that would be flocking to you.

Jeon Jungkook, in a snap of his finger, confiscated your freedom.

You didn’t waste anytime. You called him immediately as you walked around your apartment, distressed apparent in your face. You thought he wouldn’t answer, you thought he would be petty. But not a second later, you heard his voice.

“Hi, my love. Miss me?”

“How dare you, Jungkook! How dare you-“

“No. How dare you date someone else? It was a wrong move, my love.”

“We broke up!”

“Did we?” He pondered, his voice deep. If you could see him now, you would be terrified of him. “The whole world now knows we’re engaged, my love. You can no longer run away from me.”

Jungkook smiled for the first time in more than a month. Finally, you would be back in his arms. You had to because he left you with no choice. This time though, he wouldn’t let you leave.

Checkmate.

He had you cornered.

You knew he had you cornered.

#bts fic #bts yandere #yandere bts #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #maknae line #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x uou #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #jimin x you

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ashessonfire · 8 months

Note

Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧⁠* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!

Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous? - Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader - Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)

A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!

click here for masterlist

click here for characters I write for

(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )

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"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.

"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.

And of course, he was right.

Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.

He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.

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A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.

Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.

For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.

As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.

Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.

You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.

In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.

Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.

In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.

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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.

After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.

Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.

The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.

Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.

With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.

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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.

Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.

Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.

Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.

Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.

The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.

Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.

A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.

"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.

"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.

"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.

"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.

The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.

Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.

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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.

From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.

Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.

Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars

Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.

With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.

Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -

Dear Mr Brekker,

After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.

Love, your favourite artist

P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.

Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.

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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.

A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.

You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."

Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.

After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.

However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.

"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.

"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."

Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.

Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.

Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.

Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.

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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)

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P.S - The best way to support writers on here is to repost / repost + add tags! If you could spend a minute or so doing this, it would mean the world <3

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone season 2 #ashessonfire #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker headcanons

552 notes · View notes

jreads · 11 months

Note

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness.

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago.

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol. One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now.

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone.

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above.

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?”

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks.

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation.

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.”

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant.

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling.

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something…

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou angst #my fic #jreadswrites

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theoraclephobetor · 5 months

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Franklyn makes Hannibal so uncomfortable and he hates this little cheese man so much.

Dan Fogler is a master for acting this character in such a smarmy and unsympathetic way - and he does it without making Franklyn actively evil or mean. There's just this undercurrent of piteous desperation in everything he does, and he's so obviously dysfunctional in a way that is deeply repellent to viewers.

For Hannibal, it's worse. Hannibal is canny enough to recognize another human who constantly wears a 'person suit'. He watches Franklyn craft himself a persona from their conversations, from his own preferences, moulding himself into a perfect friend for Hannibal. Franklyn has such an ego, and thinks that where the world failed a famous man, he - in his infinite capacity for support and friendship - could succeed. But in crafting his person suit to perfectly fit his therapist's tastes, he makes himself repugnant to Hannibal.

Franklyn is doing to Hannibal what Hannibal is trying to do for Will - he wants to make himself into Will's anchor, to get behind his walls and touch greatness, to be his saviour (in a way) and show Will his true potential.

And yet Franklyn is objectively pitiable.

Which means Hannibal, seeing his actions played out by this small man, has to grapple with the fact that he is also a small and desperate creature. He is also pitiable.

This is the same episode where Will talks about the Chesapeake Ripper as an insignificant thing that should not have been born and can never really be a person - no matter how hard it tries. He talks about the Ripper's person suit as an extrapolation - something that must exist because how else would he have evaded capture - but what Will sees in that moment is the Ripper.

Will takes so much longer to figure out Hannibal because he gives Hannibal his trust so early on in the series. He isn't looking too deeply below Hannibal's facade (which I firmly think he sees) because he trusts that there is something behind it that vaguely resembles a person. Hannibal gets all the credit for seeing that Will has a cruel streak, but Will also sees parts of Hannibal that (almost) no one else has spotted - mainly, that he holds himself firmly apart from people, even as he charms them.

And Will is completely right. Hannibal is so lonely that he goes to find Will when he doesn't show up to an appointment. He has been confronted with his own loneliness through Franklyn, while at the same time needing to shore up his identity as the Chesapeake Ripper after two copycat kills. Sorbet is all about Hannibal's identity crisis working in opposition to his desire to make Will Graham his friend.

That's also what Bedelia sees when she calls out Hannibal's person suit/human veil. Like yeah, she'll have a glass of rose and a nice conversation with him, because she honestly does like the character Hannibal's been puppeting for years. But she knows it's a shadow play. She knows that they may be friendly, but friendship requires knowing Hannibal. Bedelia peeked beneath that veil - once, at her most vulnerable moment - and she never forgets that the person suit is tailored for a lonely predator. She never forgets that the only way he was able to truly connect with her was to manipulate her into killing.

Bedelia's place in all this is so interesting to me, because for a little while she is the audience surrogate. She has the same knowledge of Hannibal's character as any viewer who grew up with The Silence of the Lambs. Later she becomes a participatory character (until Hannibal makes her a surrogate for Will), but in the beginning she exists to help show the watcher what they already know. She reaffirms - in a time when Will and Jack are becoming untethered from their realities - that what the viewer knows about Hannibal is true. Bedelia is the viewer's anchor in this narrative, up until the point she chooses to disappear from it.

Though she knows better than to clearly say as much, I think she hears about Franklyn and knows exactly why Hannibal wants nothing to do with him.

#hannibal rewatch #sorbet #hannibal lecter #will graham #bedelia du maurier #franklyn froideveaux

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snenbubs · 5 months

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Hellooo! I would like to make a request for Mammon, please!

I was thinking of a scatter-brained and clumsy (Sloth) imp reader who manages to catch Mammon's attention. I specifically stated that reader is an imp from the Sloth Ring because she sleeps way more than the imps from other rings and one time she ends up falling asleep while sitting with (or rather, on) him. She's more than a bit shy, so the first time that this happens she is mortified when she finds out that she accidentally passed out on him

Also, with being a Sloth-born imp, I think it goes without saying that she is rather quiet and soft-spoken, so being small and not particularly loud makes it hard for Mammon to spot her at times

Thank you for reading! 🩷

I love this! I love sloth-born ocs so so much bcz they are just absolutely so relatable 😭

FOR YOU ANON; HB MAMMON X SLOTH-BORN IMP READER HCS AND A SHORT, BADLY WRITTEN ONESHOT :D becauze im feeling extra productive and the idea of falling asleep on Mammon makes me giggle.

- NOW, Mammon is a man of ACCURACY. Accuracy = money, and he loves money. He expects all his workers to be on time, prepared and ready to give their all to the respective jobs he had given them.

- You, a ditsy and clumsy imp that had been transferred over from the Sloth ring, was not that. You were sluggish, tardy, and wholly unprepared for the intense environment that came with a job under his name.

- Its this that catches his attention, lucky you!

- He didn't like you at first.

- He was ready to just throw you out the front door and hire a replacement, probably from a different ring - like Wrath, they worked hard in Wrath. BUT, he hesitated. He hesitated because he honestly felt a little bad for you.

- Like, he felt really bad for you. He caught you sleeping on the job, a clattered mess of strewn paper and ruffled hair. When rudely awoken, you were meek and quiet. Insistently apologising for your behaviour in such a pathetic, quivering tone that he really just couldn't throw you out. It'd be like taking a blanket from an orphan.

- He let you off with a warning, and kept an eye on you after that point.

- Your promises of better work were ultimately empty though, as nothing changed.

- It truly frustrated him how you were able to outmatch every single demon around you in failing at your job. Yet, aside from a quick scolding every so often from Mammon or some other advisor, you were never actually punished. His frustrations turned to facinations though, and after a while of nothing changing, he was honestly more interested in why you were like this than trying to change anything.

- With this in mind you find it odd that you keep getting promoted despite your lack of work. Additionally, how you keep finding yourself at Mammon's side, allowing him to engage in a mostly one-sided conversation with you.

- Your quiet, and soft-spoken nature attracts Mammon toward you greatly. Its a vast contrast to the personalities normally seen in Hell, and he enjoys the tranquility of your company.

- He can get quite stressed at times so to have you with him is almost like a relief. He knows he can relax around you, because you're always so absent minded and chilled out.

- It can be a nuisance at times though, as he has often lost you to crowds of paparazzi and fans. You just slip away with no sounds, no protests or cries.

- Sometimes he actually just attatches a cobweb to you to stop you from straying too far.

- It can be great fun though, because he's so big and tall you are a lot smaller against him so its easy for you to evade his gaze, you are always able to jump out at him and scare him at the worst possible times.

NOW, ENOUGH TEASING. ONTO THE MAIN COURSE - Falling asleep on him..... bats eyelashes and twirls hair around fingers

The harsh thrum of an engine reverberated through the bitterly silent air like a fish on land, foreign and unwanted. It was a loud sound, invasive to the thoughts of both inhabitants of the slick, dark juniper limousine as it prohibited any sort of conversational utterance.

You and Mammon, the two occupants, sat in a daring silence. Each too fearful to speak over the rough sputter of the vehicle.

Gleaming yellow sceleras, with the blackest of slit pupils gazed outward yearningly, to the side and out of a darkly tinted window. You thought the sky to be quite pretty, a sickly shade of green swirling with pale clouds and smog. The bright surface bled light into the otherwise dark shaking vehicle.

Mammon faced the other way, glaring out with distaste to the polluted domain he ruled over. Though the silence against the limousine was thick, it was not tense, or awkward. Rather there was an oozing warmth and tranquility bestowed between the two of you, allowing the close proximity you shared to remain comfortable and joyous.

It was this tranquility however, that would be your ultimate and metaphorical demise.

With the repetitive swaying of the vehicle, accompanied by an unstirred mechanical buzz and fleshy heat that radiated from the Sin next to you, you were soothed. You couldn't even stop it from happening, one minute you were as alert as an eagle and the next, your eyelids grew heavy. Judging the greenish scenery of the Greed ring came to a halt as your vision was enveloped in a husky gloom. You became groggy, and bleary, and in a feverish dream-like state coiled yourself into the closest thing that provided substantial warmth.

That thing? Mammon.

Upon feeling the slump of your body against his, Mammon tensed. He was torn away from gazing out the window to pore over you curiously, wondering why you had fallen against him so suddenly.

When he found your idle figure against his, limp and unmoving - aside from the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each breath - he quickly realised that you had fallen asleep. Unsure of what to do, he remained frozen for a few moments, cheeks growing hot and flushed with the prolonged contact.

This had never happened before. He'd seen you collapse all the time, falling asleep often spontaneously at work and at events without a care, yet you had never actually fallen asleep so close to him before. It felt... intimate. He was honoured for you to trust him in such a way.

For a few more moments he remained tensed. However, he soon settled with your frame against his, reaching a slow and gentle arm out to wrap against your body and hold you close to him.

For a moment you stirred. Your tail twitched behind you and you lifted yourself just briefly. Mammon oncemore tense, fearing that he had awoken you, and that you would find him clinging to you so sappily. To his relief however, you did not awake. Rather, now clutched closely to his side and secured by his arm, you nuzzled yourself further into his body. Hands intertwining with the fabric of his clothes for emphasis on how comfortable and cosy the situation you were in was.

For once, Mammon found himself to be content and happy. His gaze trailed across your figure longingly, and adoringly - chartreuse eyes gleaming prettily against the darkly lit interior of the sleek limousine, and bathing your figure in a green hue. A fond smile etched its way onto his jagged mouth, and he found himself wishing for moments like this to happen more often.

The tender moment between the two of you was cut short however, when the limousine - which had been speeding through the Greed ring at an alarming rate, screeched across a raised speed-bump without actually slowing down. Such an action rocked the car up and down sharply, making the two of you jump against your seats.

Immediately, you had awoken. Wide eyed and startled, you were shocked to find yourself pressed flush against the warm, clothed flesh of your boss - Mammon, the Sin of Greed. Even more shockingly, being held there by his own hand.

Inch by inch you lifted your head up toward Mammon, the striking yellow of your scelra contrasting against his overwhelming green.

He seemed almost as shocked as you were, glaring down nervously to check if you had awoken. The moment he caught wind of your consciousness he retracted his hand, acting as though he had been burnt from a kettle. Once the limb confining you had moved, you quickly slipped yourself away from the larger man, sliding your body across the black leather seat and cornering yourself against the door to the vehicle.

Mammon disliked the space you had created between them, yet he would never say that aloud.

Totally, and utterly mortified, you dragged a lazy hand across your face.

"Mammon!" You squeaked, voice barely above that of a hushed whisper. Your wide eyes remained glued to his figure, whereas his own now averted away from you, embarassed to showcase his own hottly flushed cheeks. "I am-- so- sorry! I didn't mean--"

"S'okay." Mammon chose to interrupt you before you began to ramble. Through the corner of his gaze he could see you wring your hands together nervously, probably as equally as embarassed as he was to be in such a position.

You gave the Sin a quizzical look, brows cocked curiously and lips pursed thin. "It.. is?" You inquired, sounding almost unsure of yourself. As the initial surprise wore off, you found your tone returning to that of its original laziness.

With an assuring nod of his head, Mammon reached a hand out to pull you closer, effortlessly sliding you across the thick leather seat to be within his proximity once more. You squeaked at the action, however, eventually settled down against him.

"Yeah." He spoke, now more assured as he saw you settled against him again. "And we still have a long journey to go. Best not let one big bump interrupt 'ya snooze."

You gave the sin a coy smile, and within moments the two of you returned to the comfortable position you had been in before. Hopefully this time with no interruptions.

WHEEEY I gotta admit i sorta rushed it toward the end cuz m rlly excited to post this one i loved writing it :D i really hope you like it anon!! Ty for sending in an ask! i appreciate it! i cba to spell check it so if you see anything weird its probably cuz of that

#helluva boss x reader #mammon hb #mammon hb x reader #hb mammon #i love him #mammon helluva boss #hb mammon x reader #i would so live in sloth #its the only place 4 me

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

Text

@seabassycat asked: Vash. Something like him getting jealous about Wolfwood giving attention to the person Vash likes but is too shy to tell until Wolf does something about it.

This one is set in the newer Trigun show, figured I'd change up pace for just a moment lol. I like the dynamic here so hopefully something flourishes.

MAKE A MOVE ALREADY! --- Vash The Stampede

SUMMARY: This whole ignoring you thing has gotten out of hand maybe it's time you finally leave... Or so you thought.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Laughter bubbles into the air around the fire, you find it hilarious watching Meryl's face contort into disgust as Nick shoves a meat stick into her face. She reels back, a hand on his chest trying to push him away. "Ew. No!" She cries. Her and Roberto sit across from you while Nick moves to steal Vash's empty spot beside you.

From the truck, Vash watches Nick plop down beside you. In his hand is the same stick of meat he was torturing Meryl with and while that brought a smile to his face, seeing Nick throw an arm around your shoulder irked him. Normally this kind of thing wouldn't bother him but seeing you smiling and laughing while being so close to him... Suddenly you squeal. "Vash!" You try to push Nick away with your hands and lean your head away from him as much as you can. He's forcing the same stick of meat towards your face while you laugh and squeal hysterically, all while calling for Vash to do something.

Though he's disappointed by how easy it is for Nick to interact with you he jogs up and takes the stick of meat from Nick's hand with a grin. Whipping his head around, Nick gasps in betrayal. "Give it back!" He leaps up to grab his food back.

Nick jumps and grabs for the food in Vash's hand but he easily evades him and dances around him like a fool. Your laugh erupts in the background. "Payback!" Butterflies erupt in Vash's stomach. Just hearing your laugh and joyful voice makes his chest grow warm. he'd give anything to see you so happy like this all the time. He's so wrapped up in you that Wolfwood snatches back the food.

"If you keep acting like this... You'll get killed. Just tell them already. It's so obvious you like them."

Nick walked away so fast that Vash almost didn't catch what he said. This really was ruining Vash all over. Watching everyone interact with you so easily while he slunk away to be by himself in fear of exposing himself to you. That feels like that last thing he wants but knowing all of him is what he wants you to do. All of his secrets would be yourself and yours would be his. But no matter what, with all these hands on you, his stayed the farthest away while Nick stayed the closest.

You waved to him. "Vash, c'mon. Sit down." Patting the empty seat beside you, you gesture for him to sit down. Politely, Vash shakes his head. "I think I'll head to bed." He raises his hands defensively. "Night." Turning, he gives a small wave before stepping inside the truck.

Watching his walk away, you frown. Of everyone in the group he was the easiest to get along with yet he avoids you the most. You try so hard to get his attention or approval yet you get nothing in return. Beside you, Nick settles again. Tearing off a piece of meat he nudges you. "Go check on Needle-noggin."

"What? Me? No. I shouldn't." Anyone but you should do it. He would say much otherwise.

Nick motions to the truck. "Just do it."

Lowering your gaze to the ground, you sigh. Truth be told, Vash was the one who roped you into the group. Between everyone else and him, he feels more familiar than the others. It should be him that you're closer to, yet he avoids you like the plague. Even though these people have provided you with everything you need Vash is the only reason you wanted to stay. With him avoiding you, leaving felt more than easy to do, but you don't want to leave. Damn him.

"Fine." Placing your knees, you rise to your feet. "I'll be back."

Warmth from the fire fades as you reach the back door to the truck. Through the window you can see Vash leaned back in the seat, his head angles out the window opposite to you. Raising a hand you softly knock and open the door. "Hey."

Vash lifts his head to look at you. "oh, hey." He doesn't sound happy to see you. For a moment you debate just leaving and going back to the fire, but seeing him now only further fuels your reasoning for coming out here. Sliding into the seat you shut the door behind you. The silence that fills the truck is unnerving, it makes your stomach churn with unease. Just the way he's purposefully looking away from you is killing you. There has to be a reason why.

You take a deep breath. Your heart pounds in your chest and your throat feels dry. "Do you hate me?" The age old question that's been stuck on your mind.

Finally, Vash whips around to look at you. His eyes are wide, it's almost like he's shocked by what you said and he jumps to shoot your thoughts down. "No. I don't hate you. Not at all. What made you think that?"

You shift your gaze past him and out the window. "You avoid the fuck out of me." It only started a few weeks into traveling with everyone. It only got worse from there. "I really think you hate me."

Vash's face softens. The disappointment is written all over your face, he knows what he did. But just moments ago you were laughing and smiling along with everyone else. What brought on such a foul mood? Why did he have to see you so down?

"I'm sorry." He looks down at his hands. Stupid apologies won't solve the way he feels or the way you feel but he's trapped, if he tells you now the whole thing will be ruined and you'll leave on your own again. He'll be left alone without you there to pull him away from these sad things he feels, you're the only one who does that for him. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

"Vash." You look back at him. "Vash." He raises his head to meet your gaze. "The only reason I stayed was because of you. I only thought about leaving when you started ignoring me." Vash's heart feels like it's going to explode in his chest at any moment. Just hearing that from you makes him feel like he might seize. It's almost unbelievable that you would say something like that to him, The Humanoid Typhoon.

"Really?" He urges. "I had no clue. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" His need to sate his own curiosity is of no use to him. What does matter is the way you feel and how he can fix it, regardless of how he feels.

"Maybe you could start by telling me why. Why would you ignore me?"

There it is, the question he hoped you wouldn't ask. All these emotions are too much for him to even handle right now. He can't possibly tell you the truth, you'll never feel the same.

Vash looks away and shakes his head. "I'll tell you some other time." A brief moment of silence passes over you before you explode.

"Vash. I have had enough of this 'everything's perfect' facade and 'I can't tell you' bullshit. I want to know the truth. If I did something you should just tell me." Your hand grabs his with a vice grip. "Just tell me, please."

When his eyes meet yours again, they're swimming with worry, while his are teaming with sadness. To see you so frustrated over such a simple thing makes his chest ache. If he just told you it might save you the turmoil, but... Fuck it. Just as he opens his mouth to spill his feelings to you, the passenger door opens. "Coming in. You two better not be making out or anything." Roberto announces.

Dread fills your body watching Roberto climb in, not even what he said brings the slightest blush to your face. Instead, you squeeze Vash's hand tighter and look back at him sternly. "You better tell me the next time we're alone."

Swallowing harshly with a nod he leans his head up against the glass. Slowly your hand slips from his and you quietly bid both of them goodnight as you slip out the truck. Vash felt nothing but guilt as he watched you go and all the willpower he felt to tell you went with. This really felt like a mistake.

You crossed paths with Meryl on your way back out to the fire. Nick was watching you, still sitting in the same spot as he had been before. Even knowing that Vash would tell you eventually, that didn't stop your want to leave from growing. Reaching the spot beside Nick, you quietly took a seat.

"Well?" He urges.

You shake your head. "When we reach the next city, I'm leaving."

Nick looks at you in disbelief. "Why?"

"I'm sleeping out here tonight. Goodnight." Was all you said. Annoyed with Vash, Nick bid you goodnight and left back to the truck. Finally alone to yourself, staring up at the brilliantly lit night sky, you honestly considered packing and leaving now. What a better time to leave without the hassle of the other bugging you than now that they're asleep. You wait as long as you possibly can before you clamber up to the top of the truck where your belongings rest with the other. It lays directly beside Vash's bag, leaning up against it.

Throwing the bag over your shoulder, you slide off the truck. Taking a moment, you turn to gaze at the truck with a deep breath before you turn to make your way into the empty and dangerous desert. The quiet coldness of the air feels serene as you take your first step away. Just leaving like this feels bad but what other reason do you have to stay.

When the door opened and closed again, Vash peeked an eye open to see Nick glaring at him. He felt he was in for a lecture. But instead he leaned closer to him and began to whisper.

"You should be disappointed. They're leaving in the next city."

Vash's heart drops. "What?" It's like his world has stopped spinning entirely. "I'm going to talk to them." Nick grabbed Vash's hand to stop him.

"You're not going out there unless it's to confess blondie." Vash snatches his wrist from Nick's grasp. With a stern glare he pushes the door open. "Exactly."

That was Vash's plan until he got caught up behind the truck watching you from afar. You laid beside the fire staring up at the glowing sky. Just thinking about going out right saying it fills him with anxiety. If it's out of the blue it's no use, he would just have to convince you. He became caught up in the matters of thinking this over and before he knew it you were nowhere to be seen, until he noticed you on top of the truck. Diving to the ground he pushes himself under just in time to see your feet hit the ground where he just was.

When you started walking away he crawled from underneath the truck and started after you. As he reached you, he tapped your shoulder. You paused and spun around ready to fight. Realizing it was just him, you sighed with relief. "It's just you. I thought you were asleep." You hadn't even heard him leave the truck. Surely you would have.

Nervously, Vash offers you a smile. "And I thought you weren't leaving until the next city."

Your breath hitches in your throat. "Wolfwood told me." Vash admits.

You let your bag drop to the ground beside you. His face is lit softly by the glow of the worms over head. It only accentuates the color in his eyes now that hes not wearing his shades. Suddenly be begins to slip off his coat. "You look cold." He offers it to you. "Take this." You feel wrong to accept his offer but take it any way, the night air was starting to get to you. Pulling it on, you're overwhelmed by a strong floral smell and light musk. It's not bad by any means, and the coat is warm.

"Thanks."

Vash's heart leaps in his chest. Seeing you in his coat leaves his head soaring. He'd have you wear it all the time if he could. But not wanting to waste any more time he takes you by the hand and begins to lead you up hill towards the overhang that covers the truck. "What are you doing?"

His hand feels rightly placed within yours and the warmth is simply unforgettable. "Just wait." He tells you.

As you reach the tip of the overhang, a swift breeze blows past, flapping the end of the coat out behind you. Everything is visible along the horizon and the worms are closer than before making their light bright around you. Each one of them looks like stars that dot the sky. For a moment it makes you forget your unrest.

With his hand still in yours, Vash beckons you to sit down beside him. Happily taking his over you settle beside him. This is the closest you've ever sat to him without having to be in the truck and of his free will too. As strange as it feels it sits just right in your soul and everything feels right. The way his hand slips from yours and slides across your back to tug you closer. Both you stare out at the horizon in silence before acknowledging the other verbally. if you could you'd stay here forever.

"Can I tell you something?" Vash asks.

Instinctively you lean your head on his shoulder. "Yeah."

Feeling you rest your head against his shoulder, he tenses. Everything around him feels like he's under water. He's too scared to drown. Telling you would mean letting the water in but his lips can't stay sealed for much longer, the need to breathe is too much. He has to do it.

"The truth is..." You raise your head to look at him. "I've been avoiding you because I really like you and seeing everyone be able to interact with you so easily, especially Wolfwood, it bothers me." He looks down at you. "It's selfish that I want you all to myself but I can't have that if you leave. I really want you here, with me."

Your heart is pounding in your ears. "Selfish?" You question. "Is it really selfish if I want you too?"

Vash's eyes open wide with surprise while warmth fills his chest. "You actually like me back?"

With a playful grin you shove him. "Yeah. I would have left way sooner otherwise. I'm glad you stopped me."

He chuckles. "Wow. That's a relief." The weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders for just a moment. With you by his side the world feels like it's just within his grasp. His arm wrapped around you and your hand grabbing his prosthetic one. The very thing he has been seeking was right here for all this time and he was just too scared to take a chance. That still leaves the plant matter in the air though. How would you react to that?

"There's some things I should probably tell you if you're going to be with me like that." At least now he could finally trade your secrets with his and hold you close like he had hoped he would.

Your eyes fall to his lips. "I won't mind, whatever it is. But I really want to-"

Before you can get the word out Vash's lips are already against yours. He's soft, his prosthetic hand slipping from yours to cup your face. Letting your eyes flutter closed, you melt against him. Just like before a strong floral smell engulfs you. You don't mind it though and instead allow yourself to melt into his touch.

"Thank you for staying." He says as he pulls away.

Resting your forehead against his, you smile. "I would have come back eventually."

#vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash imagine #vash imagines

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1000roughdrafts · 23 days

Note

hi! sorry i thought of another. don’t hate me! but could i please request reader and either sam or dean (writer’s choice!) where they’re newly together with reader and they’re asleep spooning and reader gets her period overnight and when they wake up it turns out they ruined both their pants and reader is feeling all embarrassed and upset but sam/dean just hugs them and is like "please, of all the blood, guts, and gore i’ve ever had on me, this is nothing!" and it’s all fluffy and sweet even though the brother is kind of out of their depth with the situation? (sorry i woke up to an unexpected visit from aunt flo this morning and i’m dying for fluff lol)

I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out, Anon.

Warnings: mention of menstruation and blood, fluff

Word count: 789: a cute little, short one this time.

The floor creaks under Y/N’s foot as she tiptoes to grab her bag next to the door of his room. "Shit,” she whispers under her breath, scrunching her face as she slows her movements even more. All she wants to do is get herself cleaned up before her boyfriend of only three freaking months wakes up and discovers the blood on her pants.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice cracks when he calls out for her in his half-sleeping state, “what’re you doin'? What time is it?” he asks, snapping out of it.

“Uh,” she freezes, the air conditioning of the bunker roars, and she’s thankful it fills in for her silence, “a little after four,” she says in a whisper, evading the first question.

“In the morning?” he yawns, slowly shimmying his way to sit at the edge of the bed.

She contemplates just telling him what’s going on, but she has no idea yet how she’d respond, and right now, she just couldn’t possibly bear the embarrassment that would come if he’s the kind of guy that’s grossed out by that. So, she lies, “yeah, but you go back to bed, love. I’m okay.”

There’s a click as the lamp turns on, a yellow light filling the room just as he lets out a groan. Dean brings his body to an upright position, “not if you’re up this early, you’re not,” he jokes, but his laughter is replaced with nerves when she doesn’t even smile. “Seriously, you okay?” he asks, wide eyes dropping down to the bag she holds at her waist.

“Uh, I… it-” she stumbles over her words because how the Hell is she going to explain to her new boyfriend that she was trying to get a quick shower to wash off the period blood’s surprise visit before he woke up?

He tosses the blankets off of his lap, planting his feet firmly on the cold, hardwood floor. Y/N’s face fills with a warm, deep red when she notices the blood stain on the crotch of Dean’s pants. She should have known that could happen. They had their most peaceful sleep yet, and she remembers waking up in the same little spoon position she fell asleep in.

She lets the bag fall as her hands fly to her face, “ugh,” she groans before pressing them tighter, the contrast of cold hands on her hot face feeling like the light at the end of the tunnel. She mumbles something into her hands.

“What?” he says, “sorry, I didn’t understand what you said.”

Dropping her hands, she closes her eyes and swallows hard, “I got my period while we were sleeping,” she says quickly. She dreads his reaction but opens her eyes slowly.

“Oh!” he sighs, eyes going back to the bag to see a tampon sticking out of the side of it, “that’s what this is about? Jesus, Y/N! You scared me. I thought you were trying to jump ship or something,” he says, the bed squeaking as he lifts himself off of it. He takes a few careful steps towards her before placing his hands on the back of her hips.

“Wait,” she leans back against his hands, “you thought I was trying to sneak out?”

He raises his eyebrows with a small shake of his head, “well, what else was I supposed to think?”

She lets her anxiety out in a shaky laugh, “I - no, I just wanted to take a shower and change my clothes,” she starts, but pulls away to point at his pants, “but, ugh, I can’t believe it got on you, too! I’m so sorry, Dean. If I had known it was coming, I could have prepared better. I’ll buy you a new pair of pajama pants, though,” she raises her hands to cover her face again, but he grabs them by the wrists and pulls him into his chest.

“No, Y/N, it’s okay! They’re just pants,” he says, looking intently into her eyes, “please, of all the blood, guts, and gore I’ve ever had on me, this is nothing!” he smiles, bringing her hands up to his lips to kiss each one before planting a kiss on her forehead. “Come on,” he says, releasing her from his grip, “I’ll take you to the bathroom and you can shower or take a bath, whatever you need to do, I’ll get you some tea if you want, our clothes in the wash, and a towel in the dryer,” he says with a big, sleepy smile.

She loses herself in his eyes, the corners of her lips turn down out of pure awe and appreciation for how he’s responding with such sensitivity. "You're truly amazing, Dean. How did I get so lucky?"

"I think I'm the lucky one here." Dean smiles, going in for another kiss. “I’m gonna get you that tea.”

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags <3

@waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Dean <3

@akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @chaospossum

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x reader fluff #supernatural #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fic #supernatural fan fic #dean winchester fluff #fanfic #3rd person pov

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bluebeetless · 1 year

Text

hurt

jaime reyes/reader

summary: you get hurt on a mission, jaime is there to help.

tags: near death experience, angst with a happy ending, eventual fluff, jaime is stressed in this fic, i love him i just want to put him through as much emotional torture that i can because he’s so babygirl 🫶, lowercase intended :3

warnings: violence, some blood, near death experiences, hospitals, i used google translate for the spanish- please let me know if anything is wrong :)

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ bluebeetless’ writing ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

“how copy, comet?” batman asks, voice unbothered as he fights down below. your mech had barely been dented. “all good up here, how’re you mr. b?” you ask, smiling a little. “don’t call me that.” batman replies gruffly, comms turning off. you can’t help but laugh, landing safely. “hey, comet! need some support over here!” you hear red robin yell, and turning you see your friend cornered by two of the gangsters. “i’m on it.” you reply smoothly, jetting over.

your mech collided with one of them, sending it tumbling over. tim manages to fight off the one alone as you deal with the second one. “uh, guys! one is heading towards the city!” jaime, your beloved boyfriend, informs you over the comms. “don’t worry, i’ll get it.” you take off, leaving your team behind. “comet, wait!” batman snaps, yet he has to focus on the group of goons that they could only assume that the riddler sent based on the odd designs of their clothes.

“y/n, wait up!” jaime calls, trying to pick up speed, yet your mech was faster. “relax, jaime. i’ve got this!” you reply, following the man’s car easily. this time, batman is talking to you. “comet, fall back and wait for the team.” you glance back slightly, yet it’s awkward because of your mech. “there’s no point, either you won’t get here in time or we lose this guy completely. just trust me.” you turn back to the car, which seemed quite advanced in technology, aiming your guns with precision. “y/n look out!” jaime yells, just as your mech beeps to warn you of an approaching threat. “woah-!” you swerve, sending out your flares that destroyed the missile. “too close…” you mumble, looking back at the car. “i’ve almost got this.” you say over the comms. “just forget it comet, you’re too far away to support- come back here now!”

“i cant! they’ll be in the city!” you argue, determined to stop this car. once again settling your aim on the car, you fire, riddling it with bullets and causing it to swerve off of the bridge and fall down into the murky water below. you turn, going to jet back to the fight. the warning comes up again, and you glance to your left. “there’s a fucking helicopter?!” you exclaim, pushing your mech’s nitrous button so you could evade more effectively. “we’re on our way, comet!” jaime replies, some wind affecting his comms. ‘missile detected’ flashed on your screen, you try not to show any panic. moving your arms down, your mech dips below the bridge as you swoop under it, coming out the other side easily. you were silently praying that the missile would fall down into the ocean after exhausting itself, yet you could only assume it was catching up on you.

“y/n!” jaime yelps as a blow rattles your mech. “shit..!” you grunt at the force, trying to regain some sense of control as your mech plummets towards the ocean. your stats are critical and your thrusters are dead, so, you do whatever you can to prevent dying in a mech crash- you grab the hatch above you, pulling it hard. your mech ejects you, and you see the baby that you had built from hand smoking, fire evident. you don’t feel scared, only sad. another explosion pushes your body back, sending you flying. everything goes black as you land in the dark water.

—

“fuck- fuckfuckfuck..!” jaime pants, peering over the edge of the bridge. the fight was finally over, yet you had been shot down; the exploded mess that was once your mech was slowly sinking in a patch of the water around gotham, it’s a mangled mess. “relax, beetle. i’m sure she’s fine… she’ll surface soon.” tim pats his back, trying to soothe him. ‘go down, search for your mate’ the scarab is screaming, jaime can barely think. bruce is calling for police backup as well as search and rescue. “i have to go down there- i have to check.” hopping over the bridge, jaime lets his wings expand as he flies down. his eyes scan over the water’s surface around your mech- searching for anything that would tell him that you’re okay. “come on, baby… where are you?” he whines, moving further down for a better look.

a body catches his eye and his heart lurches. khaji da is making so many demands he can barely think, so he doesn’t, he swoops down, snatching you up. “i’m here, mi amor- i’ve got you. just stay with me, yeah? stay with me.” he mumbles, flying back up to the bridge. you’re bleeding, profusely, and so he lays you down carefully in front of bruce. “can you help her?” he begs, looking up at the older man. “it’s best we wait for medical…” bruce mutters, kneeling down to check your vitals. “we can’t wait- she could-!” jaime cuts himself off, not wanting to snap at some of the best people in his life. “let me see.” tim moves into place beside you, leaning down, his ear near your mouth. “she might of swallowed water…” he mutters, placing his hands upon your chest to provide with cpr. jaime can barely watch as he stares down the road, watching flashing lights and sirens come closer.

—

“i’m here, y/n, i’ve got you. just stay with me okay? you remember our promise right?” jaime asks you, yet he doesn’t receive a response. you’re unconscious, just out of surgery. he watched you flatline, watched the doctors shock the life back into your body. he was a wreck. it had been three days and you were still unstable. of course, the media was all over this- yet a lot of people were saying you were fine to avoid any panic amongst the public. jaime wipes his eyes again, by now they’re probably red and puffy. ‘your mate is injured’. khaji da reminds him. he nods. “i know. she needs time to heal.” jaime responds. ‘protect her. care for her.’ the scarab demands. “i’m trying.” he sniffles. “i’m scared.”

‘fear will bring you down. you must be strong.’ khaji da scowls. jaime sighs. “again, im trying..!” he argues, resting his head in his hands. “if she dies… i don’t know what i’ll do if she dies.” jaime can barely breathe, no matter how hard khaji da tries to console him. ‘she will not die. she is strong.’ the scarab tells him. jaime tries to gather himself, yet he can only break down further. “please wake up, y/n. i need you.” he begs.

—

you wake up slowly, feeling groggy and gross. there’s a methodical beep next to you. you blink a few times, letting your eyes focus. turning your head, you spot a very comically large bouquet of flowers, as well as a familiar face slumped in a chair beside you. “jaime.” you call out, voice croaky. he jumps awake, shuffling his chair closer. “oh, my love- my sweet girl, are you alright? does it hurt?” he gushes, cupping your cheeks and kissing you sweetly. “i’m fine- is my mech okay?” you ask, feeling a harsh strain in your chest. “your mech-? you almost died and you’re worried about your mech?” jaime scolds, yet you can tell how relieved he is. “hey-! that thing took a long time to build.” you mumble, lazy smile on your lips. “hush, niña tonta.” he mutters, kissing you again. “does your chest hurt?” jaime asks, hand resting over yours.

“a little…” you reply, thumb rubbing against his. jaime hums. “the doctor said it would.” he replies, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. “why, what happened?” you ask, watching his eyes sadden. “you… y/n they had to use a defibrillator, you almost died- you did..!” he chokes up a little, sighing as he looks down. “jaime…” you frown; you hated seeing him upset. “it’s okay, i’m here.” you mumble, moving your hand to gently cup his cheek. “i know- i could of lost you… i haven’t left the damn hospital since you got here.” he sniffles, smiling weakly. “i’m sorry, jaime… i shouldn’t of been stupid.” you tell him, thumb rubbing his wet cheek. “no, no it’s okay… the news has been praising you specifically for ‘saving gotham once again’. everyone’s proud of you.” jaime replies, hand resting over yours. you smile weakly. “stay with me.” you suggest. jaime let’s out a soft laugh. “baby, i wouldn’t leave even if they tried to drag me out by my arms.” he jokes, leaning down to kiss you again.

—

two days later, you wake up again. your mind is pleased to be in your bed, in your home, and not in some uncomfortable hospital bed being poked and prodded by nurses. jaime is curled around you, keeping you warm and, in his mind, safe. his face was buried into your neck, he’s snoring into the crook of your shoulder. when you first got with him, it kept you up, yet you put up with it out of pure love. now, you couldn’t sleep without him. closing your eyes again, you let yourself relax, listening to birdsongs in the early hours of the morning.

minutes tick by, and you can’t help yourself from fluttering soft kisses along his shoulder and up his neck. jaime hums softly, kissing your jaw in response. “morning, mi vida.” jaime mutters, nuzzling his face into your neck. “morning, jaime.” you respond softly, stretching your legs carefully. “how’re you feeling? any pain?” he asks, peeling away from you to check you over. “m’fine, baby. my stitches haven’t popped or anything.” you respond, kissing his lips gently. “good. stay here, baby. i’ll make us some breakfast.” he responds, giving your lips one last peck before getting up. “i love you..!” you call after him, listening to him chuckle. “i love you too, baby.”

#blue beetle x reader #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #blue beetle #dc fanfic #// 🌻 bluebeetless ‘s writing!#// 🦇 dc!

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xoxoavenger · 4 months

Text

When You Are Young

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: Vintage tee, brand new phone/High heels on cobblestones/When you are young, they assume you know nothing/Sequin smile, black lipstick/Sensual politics/When you are young, they assume you know nothing

word count: 1862

warnings: reader has uncaring family (no physical abuse)

cardigan masterlist

12 Days of Christmas main masterlist

She was sitting nicely at the Country Club, head resting on a closed fist and pretending to be interested in what her father was saying. He wouldn't let her be on her phone, a lesson she learned the hard way when she went to text JJ back and her father had gotten so angry they left immediately and she couldn't have her phone for a week.

She moved her eyes to roam slightly, taking in the beach and the perfect green grass and the workers all in their suits and JJ and the flowers and-

JJ.

Her eyes widened and she sat up slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. He was sneaking around the grass, staying out of sight of all the other kooks who laughed delicately and sipped their wine and didn't have anything better to do.

"I have to go to the bathroom." She said suddenly, ignoring the way her mother glared. She winked at JJ before walking into the building, hoping her parents didn't see him following her but not caring at all if they somehow did.

She was barely in the girls bathroom when JJ attacked her in a hug, kissing her neck and cheek as she giggled and put her arms around his neck. She had seen him only yesterday, but this seemed like forever ago after practically living together the first part of the summer. She told her parents she was staying with Kie while Kiara told her parents she was staying with Y/N, which caused problems when after not coming home for two and a half weeks they finally talked.

Y/N tripped over her heels, JJ holding her to himself around the waist and causing them both to fall a little bit before JJ stopped them. He grabbed the bottom of her dress and lifted it up to palm her ass, picking her up and putting her up on the counter.

"J, this is a public bathroom." She was mostly teasing, because she knows that they'd hear the high stilettos of anyone who wanted to come into the bathroom long before they came in.

"Does it look like I give a shit?" JJ asked, sighing as she hooked her ankles behind his back, pulling him close.

"I have never known you to give a shit." She chuckles, causing him to smile as he leans in and kisses her deeply.

"Why are you here?" She asks, almost regretting it because she knows that they have a minute left.

"I haven't seen you in too long. I want you to come back to the Chateau." He whines, and she frowns.

"I can't believe I let my parents catch me." She lets JJ help her down, fixing her hair.

"It'll be okay." She lets herself look at his face while soaking in the last couple seconds they have.

When she goes back to the table, her parents are talking to different people. She doesn't really know what to do, either not liking or not knowing anyone her age there. She watched JJ run away, trying to evade security, but once he was gone she was alone.

She walks up to her mom, who pays no attention to her. They're talking about some type of magazine and it's contents this month, and it isn't until her mothers friend turned to her that she was finally allowed to participate.

"Y/N doesn't know about these things yet." Her mother laughed, and Y/N felt her face heat. How could her mother embarrass her like this, especially in front of her own friends? And what was she supposed to say to that? She didn't know that much about what was 'in season' or what she was supposed to wear. She put on what her mother told her to when she was forced to attend outings with her family, but otherwise she didn't really care.

This led to her acting out at Halloween, deciding to stray from her mother's theme of Disney. Her family always won the group costume, and this year she knew her siblings would be dressed as princesses and princes - despite their annoyed sighs and the fact that they would change as soon as they left the Country Club - and her mother would be a queen, her father a king. Y/N was staring at the beautiful dress on her bed, mourning it for a moment. She would even be inclined to wear it if her mother's words didn't replay during every moment of her routine during the day. So instead, with the help of Sarah and Kie, Y/N went for the most opposite thing she could find, making sure she could match JJ.

They would be Sandy and Danny. But not from Summer Nights, where she wore a flowy skirt and a blouse. No, she was wearing tight jeans and an even tighter shirt, her black leather jacket popping against them.

Her mother was going to hate her.

"Y/N, we have to go!" Her mother called out, but Y/N knew she couldn't leave with her mother; she'd just be forced to change.

"I'll take my own car! Just gotta finish up!" Timing was perfect, it seemed, as just that moment JJ climbed through her open window, rolling on the floor and standing quickly, a strand of gelled back hair falling into his eyes. She smiled, taking in his matching costume.

"You look," JJ said as the door downstairs slammed shut and everyone headed to the car.

"Not as good as you." Y/N smiled as he pulled her close, hands around her hips and her's around his neck.

"Better." He leaned forward to kiss her, smudging her lipstick slightly while she messed up his hair.

"It would be better if you would just come with me to the Club." They had talked about it before, how she would either be kicked out or leave early to go to the party the Pouges were throwing after.

"I think that'd just speed run the process of you getting kicked out." JJ laughs, kissing her once more. "Now, fix your makeup, and then you can show up in real style - on the back of my bike." Y/N throws her head back in laugher and moves away as JJ releases her, letting her fix her makeup as he fixes his hair over her reflection. A couple minutes later they're on his bike, her arms tight around him. When they get to the Country Club, music is blasting.

"I'll see you soon." JJ tells her with a smirk as she takes the helmet off, smiling at him. No one has noticed her arrival, not yet, but they will. Y/N thinks she can't wait to see what Kiara and Sarah have planned to leave early, or if they'll even show up.

Y/N strides in, heart racing slightly, but she doesn't feel regret. She smiles at the bouncers, who hide their surprise well. She knows they recognize her - they do let her in anyway. It's once she gets pass them that people begin to stare openly. No one drops their drink or gasps, it's not that dramatic, but she knows they all whisper as soon as she walks past.

It's once she gets to her mother that she thinks maybe, just maybe, she should have gone along with the theme during this one part and sneak away later.

The lady her mother is talking catches Y/N's eyes and her smile drops slowly, her eyes widening. When her mother notices, she turns and looks at what could cause her friend to frown so quickly.

Her face goes from shock to anger so quickly that Y/N for a moment lets her smile falter.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Her mother seethed through her teeth as soon as Y/N was close enough to hear.

"I'm Sandy," Y/N starts, trying to stand tall. There was a reason she was doing this. Her mother didn't listen, treated her like a child even though she was well past that. A thought ran through her head, that her family could kick her out. For a moment, before she remembered that her family was only about saving face, she wondered if her mother would do it.

"What happened to the dress that I had made for you?" Y/N feels sorry for only a moment, because that dress was truly the only reason she wouldn't want to go against her mother.

"I'm sorry, I must not have understood." Y/N smiled sweetly, making her mother even more angry. "Too much of a child, apparently."

"Go home and change." Her mother plasters as smile on her face, one that matches Y/N's own.

"Gladly." She struts out, and for a moment she wonders if it would have been better to not show at all, since she's not coming back anyway. But then her eyes meet Kie's, who's dressed as a mermaid, and Sarah's, who's dressed as a space cowboy. The two smirk and follow her out, slipping away from their parents easily.

"Your family is gonna murder you." Kie whispers as they run to her car.

"Worth it." Y/N smiles, her lips stretching and cracking her lipstick.

She has to sleep at the Chateau for a week, with only the extra clothes that others can scrounge for her, waiting for her parents to text her and tell her that they were being dramatic, of course they want their daughter to come home. By the time they do, Y/N doesn't care much, and only comes home to get her things. JJ helps, but her mother comes back before she can leave, just as she's carrying the last box into the car that JJ already started.

"What are you doing?" Her mother admonishes, seeing the Twinkie loaded with all her shit.

"Moving." Y/N shrugs. If her parents don't bother to check up on her a week after leaving her to fend for herself, she doesn't care about their money. She doesn't have to pay rent at the Chateau, she can split groceries, she has her own job. She throws the last box into the Twinkie, closing the door.

"You can't do this to us." There goes her mother, making everything about herself. Y/N doesn't care about saving face, walking into the Twinkie without so much as a wave. She knows she'll still see her siblings; what she doesn't know is if her parents will make her look bad to save themselves or just troubled.

"Bye, mom." She mutters, shutting the door and looking straight forward as JJ turns the radio up to drown out the shouts of her mother. She still hears it, though, the stinging words that started the whole thing.

"You think you know everything? You don't know shit. You may not be in school, but you're still a little girl!"

And maybe her mom is right, in a way. Maybe she doesn't know everything. But as she looks at JJ, one hand on her thigh and the other on the steering wheel, softly singing along to the radio and bobbing his head, she wants to scream that her mother is wrong. She knows that JJ is her love, and that there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other.

She knows JJ.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #obx imagine

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peachdues · 8 months

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PHANTASMAGORIA

NSFW CUT SCENE

A/N: enjoy this cut smut scene from Phantasmagoria (Part III) (post-kitchen make-up).

I apologize that I don’t have new fics/requests ready, but I hope y’all are okay with me dropping some unreleased drafts I have saved on my phone

If you’ve sent in a request for the 2K event, please know I’m not ignoring you! I’m just exhausted and slammed at work rn and I don’t have the mental capacity to write something new at the moment. It’s 7:30 PM my time, and I JUST got home after having been in the office since 6 this morning. Bear with me!

CW: 18+ • MDNI • explicit sexual content • 69’ing

READ ALL THREE PARTS OF PHANTASMAGORIA HERE (COMPLETED).

Y/N tried so hard to remain upright as she bucked against his face, but the sensation became too much, and she found herself falling back against his legs.

Sanemi didn’t seem to mind, his arms remaining tightly locked around her lower hips as he continued to rock his face against her core, her thighs shuddering around his head at the scrape of his stubbled jaw against her heated flesh.

She turned her head and was surprised at how close Sanemi’s cock was to her face, standing thick and tall as it bounced proudly against his abdomen with every flex of his stomach muscles and thighs as he continued to eat her out like she was his final meal.

Y/N’s lips went dry as her eyes took in the leaking, red tip of him, so demanding and eager, and yet he’d been utterly content to ignore his own need in favor of satisfying her own.

She struggled against his iron-like grip on her hips, trying desperately to turn so she could take him fully into her mouth, but he was too lost in her cunt to realize she didn’t want to get away; she wanted him, wanted to pleasure him just as much as he insisted on pleasing her.

“Sanemi,” she whined, trying to turn once more, but his arms only tightened around her, a growl of warning reverberating from his chest.

Desperate, Y/N leaned as close to his aching cock as she could and stuck her tongue out, just managing to graze the side of it before she had to pull away.

It was enough. At the first caress of her wet tongue against him, she felt Sanemi freeze beneath her, his tongue momentarily pausing mid-thrust into her core as he realized what she was trying to do.

The grip around her hips loosened enough so she could turn, and Y/N rotated herself, though Sanemi’s head remained poised between her thighs.

At the first brush of her lips against his angry, leaking tip, Y/N felt Sanemi tense, his abdomen clenching tight as she dipped down, taking half of his cock into her mouth with a sigh.

He moaned into her cunt, as her tongue caressed against the side of his shaft, his feet shifting beneath her to plant firmly on the bed as he began to thrust up into her mouth. Y/N’s eyes watered as his tip threatened to hit the back of her throat with every push into her mouth, but she forced herself to remain relaxed, humming as she let her tongue work his shaft, her cheeks hollowing as she gave him another strong suck.

His arms, wrapped around her lower hips, tightened around her lower hips as Sanemi pressed his face flush against her cunt, groaning, and the vibrations against her tender folds causing her eyes to roll back into her skull.

The pair licked and sucked at one another, seemingly in competition to see who could make the other cum first. Y/N’s head bobbed faster down Sanemi’s length before she pulled off with a teasing pop! She pumped her hand up and down his cock, heavy and slick with her saliva as she suckled on his tip, pulling back slightly as Sanemi began trying to sheathe himself back into her mouth, frustrated that she kept evading him.

If she thought she was making him more desperate, she was correct; except, her white-haired lover decided to take such frustration out on her poor cunt. Moving one hand from where it helped keep her hips locked squarely against her face, Sanemi brought his fingers to her lips and spread them wide, his tongue flattening against her and pulsing as he scooped her juices into his greedy mouth.

Y/N’s cry of pleasure was muffled by a sharp buck of Sanemi’s hips as he thrust his cock back into her mouth, her throat locking as she gagged, though she managed breathe through her nose to avoid pulling back off him.

Not that she thought Sanemi would let her if she tried — he’d moved one of his broad hands from where it sat at her hip down her back, splaying firmly across her lower shoulders to hold her in place. Given the veracity with which he feasted on her core, Y/N reckoned he wouldn’t have noticed her squirming even if she’d tried.

Every stroke of his tongue against her made her thighs twitch around his head, and Y/N found it difficult to keep bobbing herself up and down the thick length of Sanemi’s cock, instead holding him in her mouth while she moaned and shuddered against him.

Drooling around him, Y/N managed to move her hand to cup Sanemi’s balls, and she marveled at how full he was as her tongue stroked him. The thought that he would soon be emptying himself inside of her made her thighs clench even tighter in anticipation, even as she whined against him, begging for release.

The scar-speckled man beneath her removed his hand from her back, apparently convinced that she would not try and move off him. Rather than returning to his hold on her hip, Sanemi’s rough, warm fingers replaced his tongue at her entrance, as he slid them into her while his lips and teeth closed around her clit and gave her a harsh suck.

At the first brush of his fingers against that spongy, roughened patch of flesh deep within her walls, Y/N shattered.

Her scream was little more than a gurgled groan as her head dropped forward, causing her to take the rest of Sanemi’s cock down her throat. Against the vibrations of her moans and tge sudden way her throat constricted around him, Sanemi suddenly erupted in her mouth, his cum spurting hot and fast down her throat as he groaned deeply into her cunt.

Y/N shook against him as she rode out the final waves of her pleasure. Finally, Sanemi’s arm around her waist loosened and his head fell back against the bed. A moment later, Y/N pulled her mouth off Sanemi’s length, though he was still hard, and she dropped her head against his thigh as she caught her breath.

The room was quiet for a moment, disturbed only by the sounds of their soft panting, as both came down from their highs.

After a moment, Sanemi spoke, and Y/N nearly rolled her eyes at the smugness in his tone.

“I win.”

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kny x reader #kny #dividers by saradika #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi smut #demon slayer smut #kny smut #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi angst #hashira fic #hashira smut #demon slayer fic

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thecuriousquest · 1 year

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A New Life

Yandere Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, drugging, kidnapping, minor violence

Checkout my Master List here.

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Shoto fights against you with gentle yet dominant hands. It isn’t his goal to hurt you, only to subdue you. He notices how your E/C eyes shine in the light of the sun with such beauty as rage pounds in your chest.

She’s so passionate. She’s perfect. I have to make her mine.

He blasts you with a surge of ice and captures your feet. You know martial arts, and he has been able to evade your attacks since the beginning, but you’re a feisty villain with a powerful healing quirk who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time while walking to the LOV bar.

You stand there with your feet frozen to the ground. Unable to break free, you clench your fists and try to calm yourself so that you can think clearly.

“Stay back. Don’t come any closer! I’m warning you-” you try to seem tougher than you feel, but when he stands right in front of you with those heterochromatic eyes boring into yours, you can’t help but cut your sentence short.

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls your foreheads together. “I want you. You’re coming with me.”

“What? I’m not going anywhere with you, creep!” You try to push him away from you, but the cold you feel in your feet is starting to travel up your legs and through your whole body. Shivering and sluggishly trying to strike him is your only option right now.

Shoto laughs at your feeble attempts. He pulls something from his pocket, and you try to see what it is before something is suddenly poking your neck. Realization kicks in as your eyes give away the terror coursing through you. Your lids feel heavy, and you can no longer stand on your own. You fall forward into the arms of Shoto Todoroki, the last person in the world that you want securing you in his embrace.

He defrosts your feet with efficiency before throwing you over his shoulder and making his way towards your new home.

—

Waking up is difficult. You don’t want to leave the peace of your mind, but your body aches for you to sit up and stretch. You will your eyes to open with an ugly groan, and you find that you’re on a couch, sitting in your captor’s lap with his arms wrapped around you as he pets your hair.

If these were different circumstances, you would welcome the affection, but he just kidnapped you. You’d be damned if you let someone who just snatched you treat you like a fucking lap dog.

You squirm on his thighs, causing him to chuckle.

“Looks like someone’s awake.” He rubs his hand up and down your spine.

“Get off of me,” you growl.

“I’m not doing that. Settle down. I was having such a nice time with you.”

You jerk enough to the left that you’re able to maneuver your arm to land an elbow to his face. He stops you by grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. You wince in pain as he begins warming the temperature in his hand. You understand the implied threat, and you settle down.

Nodding, Shoto removes his hand and brings you back into his cuddling arms. “You can forget trying to leave so that you can be a villain again. You’re going to be my good girl. I’m going to help you be my good girl. I know this is going to be a hard adjustment, but when you earn my trust, then you can have some privileges. I can tell you right now that if you don’t behave, then you’ll soon learn the harsh consequences of this house. I love you so much, Y/N. I’m going to be here for you.” He gives you a kiss on your head.

“You can’t do this to me. I have a fucking life. This is so sick and twisted.”

“Your life was full of criminal activity.”

You guffaw at his remark. “What do you think kidnapping someone is?”

You feel his grip on you tighten. “I took you here to help you. To give you a new life, a new home. A fresh start. You’re just not used to someone loving you like this.”

How the fuck did he know that about you? You have a tough relationship with love. You are untrusting, continuously suspicious of people who try to flirt with you or pursue something more than just a coffee date.

“It’s alright,” he says as he grabs your jaw in a light hold so that you look him in the eyes. “We have a new life together. Let’s make the best of it.”

#my hero acedamia #yandere #tw kidnapping #manipulation #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki #mha shoto todoroki #tw drugging

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satorkiees · 1 year

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ice skating with shoto todoroki

first oneshot/drabble ft. my fav shoto

warnings : just pure fluff, 1.1K+ words, mutual pining, very soft shoto

a/n ; i'll probably redo this when i figure out how to use tumblr LOL

your friends had dragged you to the ice-skating after finding out you’d never been before. casually mention it to the group during a sleepover. mina organised the whole of class 1-A go as a “team-building” exercise and got mr aizawa to book out an ice ring for them.

“COME ONNNNNN!” mina moaned as she dragged your hand as you helplessly followed behind her. anxiety filled your stomach as you got nearer to the rink and you could see a couple of your classmates effortlessly gliding across the ice - aoyama and bakugo were great but there was one that stood out to you especially, his dual coloured hair slightly obstructing his view as he comfortably manoeuvred the ice as if it was second nature to him - god, was there anything he couldn’t do?

mina caught you ogling him, gave you a mischievous look and brutally left you to climb the feat of ice-skating on your own. the night before, you had researched intensely before coming however all of it evaded you as soon as you got onto the ice. after a couple of near misses, you opted to sit back out, feeling utterly defeated and pink tinging your cheeks. whilst you were struggling to figure out the basics of ice skating, shoto’s stares went unnoticed. his hands were clammy by the time he mustered up the courage to go over to you but you were ushered away by ochaco and mina who tried very hard to teach you the basics which resulted in all 3 of you collapsing in on one another. the whole class watched it go down, laughter erupting from your friends, everyone hurrying to pick you guys up but all shoto could do was watch you from a distance, he was frozen. he ignored the twisting feeling in his stomach he felt as he saw you being escorted to the stands by bakugo (who was yelling at you for being a ‘dumbass’ as he checked for injuiries). he began to continue to do his own thing that was until he noticed you becoming increasingly upset. he mustered all the courage he had in him and wiped his hands on his trousers

you were wallowing in your own failure, cringing at your own clumsiness. though it felt stupid, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d made a fool of yourself in front of your friends. as you were beginning to spiral, you saw todoroki approaching you. tensing up, you tried to fix you hair and returned the wave that shoto was giving.

“hey.” he said nonchalantly, leaving the rink to sit next to you.

“hi.” you replied awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. you cringed as you weren’t usually so awkward around him but you felt ill even thinking about what the disaster of you trying to glide on your own and clinging on to mina and ochaco, subsequently bringing them down with you, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to say anything more.

“is this your first time ice-skating?” he asked moving the hair out of his face

“yeah..it is! is it that obvious, haha,” you laughed, mustering up the courage to look at him.

“a bit, yeah. do you…” you tilt your head in response. it’s his turn to look away from you. “do you want me to teach you?” now, some may say you were delusional but you swear you could see his face going red. you agree with enthusiasm and shoto reciprocates it.

ice skating hadn’t defeated you yet. apprehensively, you got up to go back onto the ice. he grabs your hand guides you onto the ice. your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest, you’re sure he can hear it. if he could, he doesn’t mention it but maybe that’s because his was beating just as loud. once you get onto the ice, he’s as gentle as he can be. he holds onto you as he tries to help you gain your balance, you’re able to go across the ice with him with a couple of wobbles here and there but overall doing quite well. any coldness you felt prior to entering the rink had evaporated and you were sure you were gonna melt right in front of him if you continued to stay the subject of all of his attention. you made small talk throughout, learning more about each other. todoroki talking about how he learnt to ice-skate at a young age and it’s one of his hobbies that he actually enjoyed. you share your liking of figure of skaters, comparing him to your favourite one which he responds with a genuine smile. all of your classmates geeked over the fact that something was finally happening between the 2 of you as they watched you from the sidelines.

after going over basic skills, he urges you to try go around by yourself. reluctantly you let go of his arm and you feel as though absolutely nothing has stuck. however not wanting to him to think his teaching has gone to waste, you begin to navigate the ice. it goes well for a time, feeling as though you finally have the hang of things but you realise you have no idea how to stop. todoroki catches on as you begin to panic about diving straight into the wall but before that happens, you lose your balance as he tries to catch you. both of you end up toppling over landing on top of each other. blood rises to your cheeks once again, feeling even more mortified than before, why couldn’t you just get it right? and now you probably look stupid too. how could you ever-?

your train of thought was completely broken. by laughter. you thought it was mina laughing at your clumsiness but to your surprise, it was todoroki. you were entranced to say the least, you’d only ever heard him politely chuckle but this? this was a cackle, maniacal laughter. you didn’t even know what was so funny, but you joined it. you laughed and laughed until your sides hurt and you were wheezing. the rest of class 1-A looked at you as if you were insane but you didn’t care. you were gonna imprint this memory of him into your brain. shoto couldn’t believe he’d failed to catch you, he wasn’t sure why he was laughing so hard, maybe it was the awkward position he was in with you or the way he was so close with you or that he genuinely loved your presence, he couldn’t contain the joy he felt for you. you both struggled to get up, bursting into fits of laughter mimicking the fall, you teasing his teaching skills and bantering throughout as you made your way to get ready to go back to the dorms. your clothes were soaked as his and you felt a new found connection between you too. maybe there was something there?

#my hero academia #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #todoroki x you #shoto fluff #bugeatermaya #shoto todoroki x reader

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