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janaispunk · 1 month

Text

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up.

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality.

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move.

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine.

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff.

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.”

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different.

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?”

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking.

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?”

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking.

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.”

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal.

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance.

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising.

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach.

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake.

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize.

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself.

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast.

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all.

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile.

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers.

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?”

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?”

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.”

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move.

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.”

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back.

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding.

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again”

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you.

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts.

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait.

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.”

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her.

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him.

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story.

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom.

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies.

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well.

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?”

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity.

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective.

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask.

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table.

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something.

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?”

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction.

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze.

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more.

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast.

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?”

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red.

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night.

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story.

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile.

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs.

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#fic: safe and sound #janas fics #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

545 notes · View notes

timidpumpkin · 11 months

Note

Can I get a reaction when reader want to go to carnival or other fun places and then they got lost and ended up at their own home

Is the reader going to escape or go back to their daddies TYSM🤗

Hiiii🥰🥰🥰💜💜💜. I loved this idea sooo much and it really helped get me out of the writer's block funk I was in! It’s a litttle bit different from what you asked so I hope that’s okay and you still like it!! Thank you so so much, I loved writing this!!~~~~~💖💖💖💖💖

(pictures are not my own)

Helpless (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, stockholm syndrome, forced age regression, mention of previous kidnapping, reader gets lost, mild injury to reader, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames (as usual).

Word count: 4.1k

Tagging a few of the absolutely lovely people who have supported me this whole time. I love you and appreciate you all more than i can express. @haleyhunwritess @ppatricia34me @hoplessfussybambi @canyonmooncreations @sapphyslittlenook

P.S. i'm gonna start a tag list so lemme know if you wanna be added <3

It was getting a bit cooler now.

The previously bright day had been overtaken by navy shadows that bring nippy wisps of air that catch on your exposed arms, sending chills throughout you.

“I told you we should have used the long-sleeved one,” Steve remarks to Bucky as he watches you make a tiny shiver.

Bucky rolls his eyes at him, knowing you were the one who insisted on this specific onesie when he dressed you this afternoon. With an eager look on your face, you held it up to him, proudly showing him how it would match perfectly with some leg warmers you found in your drawer. He couldn’t argue with that, not when your giddy smile and sweet eyes looked at him while holding it up as high as you could for him.

“Come here babydoll,” Bucky says, squatting down a bit to get closer to your level.

You don't hear him for a second. Not even your numbed fingertips could distract you from the bright lights that reflect off your eyes. You’ve been watching the multicolored Ferris wheel since you got here. You wanted to go on it so bad.

Thus far, you’ve only been allowed to play the ground games. Though, you can’t complain too much now that you’ve collected quite a load of new stuffies to bring home. You’d like to think yourself pretty talented at these games–maybe too talented.

You’ve all but completely missed the harsh glares Bucky gives the poor workers when they tell you “awh too bad” when you miss the target, but then proceed to hand you whichever stuffed animal or toy you’d been wanting anyway. You’d turn around to your daddies, excitingly showing them your prize and proudly exclaiming “I won! I won!” and Bucky would always tell you how good of a job you did every time.

“Babydoll?” Bucky calls again, bringing you back to reality, his voice sweet, as if he’s teasing you a bit, knowing how much you've enjoyed this outing.

It was a tough call. Bringing you here. They knew how much you wanted to go. Ever since Peter babbled on and on about his trip to the carnival at his birthday party a few months ago, you’ve been begging them ever since. It’s not that they didn't want to take you. It could never be that. They just weren’t sure if it would be safe…

“There’s all kinds of creeps at those things!” Steve argues to Bucky, turning around as if that’s the last word and final say about it.

“I know. I know. But…she really wants to go. Plus…it’s not like we’ll ever let her out of our sight.” Bucky tries to reason, knowing it was something they would enjoy too. He has several fond memories of dragging Steve along with him through the bustling crowds of people just so he could play–and win–all the games he could, always asking Steve which prize he wanted before promising him he’d win it on the first try. Long before he knew of what true cruelties lived beyond their hometown, Bucky had already mastered the art of staring down unfair showmen who would poke fun at Steve’s then narrower figure.

Bucky just couldn’t help the almost giddy feeling he got just at the idea of holding you up high while you throw one of those balls with all your might to win some oversized stuffed animal that you’d undoubtedly insist on carrying on your own despite it being twice your height.

“We could even get one of those leash things,” he suggests, the idea popping into his mind like it’s the most brilliant thing, remembering how he showed the leashed froggy backpack he saw a while ago to Steve.

“It’s not just that,” Steve admits, brows furrowed as he sits on the edge of the bed, a sad and worried look overtaking his features that makes Bucky want to cave to anything he’d ask. “what if…” he trails off, not meeting Bucky’s gaze, “what if…she tries to run off?” he says quietly as if the fear itself would be brought to life if he spoke it too loudly.

It had been a long while since you tried to run away. All things considered, you seemed to be fully adjusted now. Every so often you would act up, but only in the way that all little girls would every now and then. They would always punish you appropriately, the way all good daddies would, reminding you that your life with them is your life, and that the horrid life you had before you was one never meant for a sweet innocent little girl like you.

They saved you. Steve routinely reminded you as such, but he didn’t have to. Bucky could tell you knew it was true now just by the way your bright eyes greeted them every morning. You knew that you were only good and safe with them to take care of you. His little girl couldn't even function without them now. It was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Bucky thinks for a moment, walking closer to Steve and kneeling on the floor in front of him. He pushes his way into him, maneuvering himself between Steve’s legs, and scoops his distressed hands into his, kissing them both before looking back up to Steve.

“She won’t.” he says, thick air questioning if it's true.

But his words say more than just that. The meaningful look in Bucky’s eyes tell Steve that no matter what, they’ll always have you. And that there was no way you could get away from them. Bucky knew it wasn't just the fear of physically losing you, but the fear of hurt that they would feel if you even tried.

Steve smiles a bit, his hands pulling Bucky up so that he’s now standing between his legs. He takes his hands, sliding them down from Bucky’s sides to his hips where they rest for the moment.

“Alright,” Steve sighs, looking up to Bucky, and pulling him a bit closer by his belt loops, “but any sign of trouble, we leave” Steve states, seriousness in his tone, the same kind of voice he uses when they’re on missions together.

“As if it would be any other way.” Bucky remarks, a smirk teasing his face as he dips his head down a bit to meet his lips with Steve’s. Steve sighs into his kiss, feeling the tension leaving his body just by Bucky’s stable words and secure presence.

“You think too much Rogers” Bucky teases after breaking from the kiss, thinking of all the times Steve would try to worm his way out of Bucky having to go on a mission with him in fear of his partner getting hurt–whether it be mentally or physically–Steve couldn't bare the thought of having to see Bucky like he was when he saw him for the first time in this new world.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, Bucky never ceasing to take his breath away from his all-encompassing kisses. “I love you two more than anything,” he says earnestly as if it’s the only known fact in the universe.

“I know” Bucky smiles, “I know.”

“Oh-sorry Daddy!” you turn around, not meaning to ignore him. He holds out a sweatshirt and you instinctively hold up your arms so he can help put it on you. “Did you see the Ferris wheel Daddy?” you ask excitingly for the third time that night. Bucky chuckles a bit.

“Yes, I did,” he answers as if it’s the first he’s hearing about it while putting some soft-knitted mittens he had in his pocket on your hands. “M’not sure if Dada heard though,” he whispers to you, “maybe you should go tell him,” he informs you with a wink.

You hurriedly run over to Steve, jumping in place over and over again in front of him.

“Dada! Dada!” you take his hand and drag him a bit closer to where you had the best view of the colorful wheel. “Look!” you point and turn to him with an excited expression. “Can we go? Please? Pretty please? Please please please please-” you babble over and over again while continuing to jump up and down until you’ve all but run out of air in your lungs.

Steve looks at the contraption suspiciously, not trusting of the achy-sounding metal, and certainly not wanting his little girl near anything dangerous. He catches a glimpse of Bucky though, who’s contagiously smiling at you both, and remembers how often Bucky tells him not to worry so much.

“Okay-okay” Steve caves, unable to help but smile at your hyper manner right now. “Just this once, then we can go home and get you all nice and warm” he teasingly pinches at your cold cheeks.

“Yayayay!” you literally scream out, not even caring one bit that he said it was only once or that you had to go home after this. You were more than overjoyed that you got to ride it at all.

You start to make a sprint for it, only getting a few feet when resistance yanks you back, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you to steady yourself from the unexpected halt in momentum. Steve hadn’t even pulled on the backpack at all, it was just your pure running and his not moving an inch that caused you to ricochet back a bit. It’s a wonder you didn't fall flat on your behind.

“Heh-sorry!” you sheepishly laugh it off and wait patiently for them to catch up with you in basically two full steps for them.

As you make the short walk to the diminishing line in the late hour, Steve stops to tie his shoe, occupying both of his hands. You swing your arms aimlessly around waiting for him to finish while looking around.

As you mindlessly scan the area around you, your head does a double take as you recognize something.

No–someone.

You watch the stranger in confusion until the remnants of memory come back to you. It was a friend. But this person wasn’t Peter or Wanda…no. It was a friend from…before.

It disorients you, confusion washing over you and placing a pit in your stomach as your life before now was mostly forgotten and placed in a dusty cardboard box in the back of your mind’s vaults.

You watch as they walk away, towards where you know leads to the parking lot. And as if something takes over you, you start following their footsteps, unhinderedly drifting away from where Steve and Bucky are.

As you mindlessly follow, several feet behind, memories of your past life replay in your mind. They playback in black and white as if you’re watching one of those really old movies Steve likes to show you sometimes.

Then you hazily remember when they first found you…took you. Emotions of how scared and confused you were overtake your mind. You remember how they kept you in the house, never letting you leave.

“Sily girl, Dada can’t kidnap what’s already his,” Steve would tell you every time you’d harshly accuse him of kidnapping you.

“No one can protect you like we can,” Bucky would shush you after one of his punishments when you had pushed too hard. “Daddy only does this ‘cause he loves you.” he’d brush over your already bruising skin before carefully wiping away the tears that he had ignored for hours before.

Some nights you’d wake from nightmares, the specifics of it not mattering when Steve would find you crying into your stuffie. He never hesitated to pick you up and let you weep into his shoulder. Always whispering that you were okay, that you were safe.

“It’s okay angel, Dada’s here. You’re safe with me. I’ll always keep you safe. Always.” he’d repeat to you sincerely, holding onto you so tightly, as if the slightest loosening of his grip meant the very air around him would harm you.

To him though, it was true. Nothing could hurt you as long as you were in his arms. He’d carry you downstairs, where Bucky would tell you that nightmares didn’t matter “‘cause they aren’t real, doll…not like me and Dada.” he’d caress your warm cheeks while Steve fetched you some cold milk. They’d stay up with you as long as you needed, not even daring to shut an eye until you felt safe enough to sleep again.

And truthfully…you did. You did feel safe.

Maybe it was strange…the way you sought their comfort…their touch…their love, when you fought it in the beginning.

And you did fight…hard.

But every retaliation you made only ended in harsh grabs. Every effort to push them away resulted in lacerated reminders. Every moment you spent denying what they told you only yielded unrestrained punishments.

“My sweet girl…you’ll learn soon enough. Fighting us only makes it harder for you.” Steve would stroke your cheek through the bars of your crib. “All you have to do is listen to what we say. We know what’s best for you, angel.” he’d say before leaving you all tied up and alone for hours…sometimes days.

And then, after you’d more than cried yourself dry, throat scratchy from lack of hydration, he’d appear to you, asking if you’d learned your lesson. Your body would somehow discover new tears as you’d plead with him, promising him you’d be a good girl.

It’s then that he’d smile down at you so sweetly, lifting your limp body from its cushiony cage and shower you with endless affection.

He’d drown you with attention, never allowing you to lift a finger. He’d clean you up with your favorite scented soap, and after you were all done, Bucky would present you with a new set of soft clothes they bought just for you for taking your punishment so so well. They’d play your favorite shows and message every sore spot on your tired body after ordering from your favorite type of take out, something you never even told them. There wasn’t a moment where they weren’t touching you in some way, dousing you with sweet words about how much they loved their beautiful helpless little girl.

Helpless.

A word that reminds you exactly how you felt the very first time you bumped into Steve. All alone and scared, in a place that was dark and unfamiliar. You were lost then.

Just like you were right now.

You practically snap back into reality, the one where you’ve found yourself far away from the luminous festival lights and eerily close to where you can’t hear racket of activities anymore. It’s quiet, and you don’t even know where that funnily familiar person you were following went. Dread fills your insides as you realize you’re all alone.

You turn around hastily,

Anxiety fills your stomach as you rashly run in the opposite direction, before tripping on a wire that sends you spiraling down to the ground. You clumsily try to catch yourself, mittened hands harshly hitting the pavement, and asphalt slashes through your leggings, exposing the soft flesh of your knees to razor-sharp pain.

The sudden impact scares you, tears that were already forming from before start rushing out of your eyes.

Instinctually, you cry for Steve. For Dada. But when after too many moments you don’t feel their comfort, you look around and remember they’re not there. Your heart pounds as people rush by seemingly unaffected by your fallen form. You swirl your head around looking for them and are instead met with the haunting image of your green leash’s end, its ghostly emptiness scorning you from where it lays.

You cry harder, guilt and anguish now thumping alongside the throbbing in your chest that radiates to your body’s wounded limbs and you're pretty sure the only words coming out of your mouth are pathetic strings of ‘daddy’ and ‘dada.’

“There she is” Bucky spots you, both of them rushing over to you, distraught as they notice your scraped-up form.

“Dada!” you cry, leaping towards Steve and wrapping your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You helplessly weep, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional strain your misplaced detour took you on. You cry for leaving them. You can't tell if it was on purpose, but you feel awful from even remembering your past life and getting so close to being lost.

“Fuck, angel. What happened?” Steve breathes, taking the scuffed mittens off your hands to examine you closer.

“I-...I-” you try to speak through gasps of crying. They both question you on where you went and why you walked away. You barely manage to tell the story in broken sobs as to what truthfully happened. They listen intensively as you tearfully explain the details of what happened.

“But-but-I-I don’t wanna! Don’t wanna lose daddies! Don’t wanna! Didn’t mean t-to! I-I p-promise-I-I didn’t!” you stagger between breaths, gasping for air as your sob relentlessly in Steve’s arms.

“Shh, hey-hey” Bucky caresses your head, directing your attention to him. “It’s okay, doll. It’s okay. You’re okay.” he consoles. Steve gently wipes your tears at the same time and helps in calming you. You look at them both through blurry vision and continue weeping apologies to which they both remind you that it’s okay.

They were scared to death when they only took their eyes off you for a second and you were gone…but they found you, just like the first time.

They bring you over to sit down on a bench so they can better help console you and check your injuries. Steve rummages through the backpack he was carrying to get a first aid kit, and Bukcy watches through tortured eyes as you miserably cry.

“Doll.” he tenderly tilts your chin up to him. Tearful eyes red from crying look up to him. “Daddy’s proud of you.” he states, earnestly, stern and true. It makes you cry harder though, with confusion written all over your face. Proud? How could he be proud when you almost thought about running away?

“W-why?” you cry “I-I bad. bad!” you weep pitifully as you feel Steve cleaning your knees.

“No angel. You’re not bad.” Steve states, only confusing you more, you were sure both of them would be upset with you…considering they had every reason to.

“You know why?” Bucky asks, stroking your previously cold cheeks that have now been warmed by your tears. You shake your head no as more seemingly endless tears fall. “‘Cause you came back,” he says, wiping them as they come. “You came back to find us. That’s all that matters.” Bucky reassures you.

It hurts, both his and Steve’s worst fear almost coming to life.

But it didn't.

And truthfully, no one understood that more than Bucky. He knew more than anyone what it was like to get confused. To see or hear something otherwise mundane that whips you back to a place where you feel out of control.

The story you recanted to them rings all too familiar to him. It reminds him of shaky hands and paralyzed tongue that attempted to explain to Steve what it was like to not be in control of your own body. Your own actions.

It didn’t matter that you wandered away. It didn’t matter where your thoughts went. All that mattered was that you cried for them. All that mattered was your tiny hands curled around Steve's shirt so hard he’d thought you’d hurt your own fingers. All that mattered was the way you pulled Bucky closer while weeping his name as he comforted you.

All that mattered…was that you needed your Daddies.

They both reassure as such in ways they knew you'd understand. Besides, it only made sense that their little girl would get confused sometimes. That’s what daddies are for. And you came back because you knew they always made the best decisions for you. And even if on the off chance that you hadn't…that really wouldn’t have mattered anyway either. They would always find their little girl because you belong with them. Always and forever.

“Which ones do you want little princess?” Steve asks you, offering a variety of colorful bandages in front of you. Your hysteria and their sweet strong words have all but distracted you from the pain of the scratches lacerating your knees. You point to the ones you like and Steve praises you for making “such a good choice babygirl.”

Bucky holds you close and lets you bury your head in his chest while Steve carefully puts them on. You feel guilt again when you notice that the soft mittens now have little scuffs and holes in them that match your pants. But Steve reassures you that it’s ‘no biggie’ and that they can always get you another pair.

“How about Daddy and I get you some ice cream?” Steve suggests, knowing sweets was at least one way to cheer his sweet girl up.

You sniffle, looking to him at the suggestion.

“Ice cweam?” you say with a small voice “I-I wike ice cweam” you say softly, not meaning to slur your words. But you never did anyway, it always just happened beyond your control.

“I think that sounds perfect, huh doll?” Bucky says lightheartedly and sweetly while picking you up from the bench and placing you in Steve's arms.

“Wif sprinkles toos?” you ask, rubbing your sore eyes.

“All the sprinkles for my sweet little girl” Steve smiles at you while playfully poking at your side making you giggle a bit.

The cold dessert cools your hot throat and brings a smile back to your face. Of course, what really made you happy was knowing your daddies weren’t upset with you, and even more importantly, that you were never going to lose them.

“Hey what’s that on Dada’s face?” Bucky points directly to Steve, making you turn to examine it closely as you're still in his arms. It gives Bucky the opportunity to steal a lick from your ice cream.

“Hey!” you laugh turning back to Bucky’s not-so-secret move when you realize there was nothing amiss on your Dada’s face.

“What?” he puts his hands and shoulders up in a shrug of confusion while looking around and feigning confusion. You giggle more as obvious signs of ice cream are on the tip of his nose.

“Looks like daddy’s the one with something on his face” Steve teases, and you laugh with them while they let you finish your little treat.

“You still wanna go up on the Ferris wheel babygirl?” Steve asks after wiping your hands clean from any sticky residue. You look up to him with awe and shock, not expecting him to still offer it.

“Really?” you question with a hopeful but weary look on your face from not being sure of why you deserve it. Steve nods at you and tells you yes. Maybe he was skeptical before, but nothing was better than seeing his little girl's face light up in a smile.

Plus, Steve knew you were their little girl. More than that, he knew that you knew. In your heart, you came back to them. You needed them. And that’s all Steve could ever want.

You’re squeezed between your two daddies as the wheel makes its way up to the top. They watch as you look in awe of how tiny everything looks from up above. This must be what it's like for your daddies to see all the time. You feel as though you’re at the tippity top of the wheel forever. You don’t mind as it’s beautiful and quiet up there with the only people in the world you wanted to be with. You tiredly lay your head against Steve's arm, signaling to him that you’ll likely sleep the whole drive home.

“I love you,” you say contently, and they know you say it for both of them.

“We love you too angel. So much,” Steve tells you, smiling down at his sleepy little girl, and looking up to see Bucky’s lightened up face too.

He takes it all in, remembering the times when just he and Bucky would go out to these things–or really–when Bukcy would drag him to the carnivals. He knew how much Bucky loved this. He knew how much you loved this. And he loved it too. He loved you both, and that was all he needed.

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foreststranger · 9 months

Text

DAN FENG - Tethering The Sky and Reaching For Heaven

ꜱᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ 『honkai: star rail』dan feng/imbibitor lunae/yinyue jun (ugh can he stop having so many names??? it makes tagging a complete nightmare) x gn!reader

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ parting ways with silly dragon guy before he reincarnates and dies idk idgaf abt his backstory 👍👍👍

𑁍 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.0k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ surprise!!!! yet another short fanfic abt a long haired man! anyways happy early 1.3! i wish everyone a very e6 lynx and good luck on whoever you’re pulling for. ALSO HOW TF DO YOU DO CHINESE DIMINUTIVES/HONOURIFICS IN X READER FICS??? 阿Y/N???? OR MAYBE IN PINYIN??? a’y/n or ah’y/n??? OR WOULD IT BE LIKE 阿[the first character of your name] LMFAO

“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving?’ Where are you going?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying in vain to figure him out.

“We won’t see each other again. I’ve… done something horrible.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“…It’s not our main concern as of now. I’m sure my punishment will come for me soon. I don’t know how much time I have left with you.”

“Okay, what’s going on? I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll understand soon. I’d just like to spend one final moment with you.” Dan Feng grabs ahold of your hands, his grip almost painful as his fingers lock with yours.

“Are you… You don’t love me anymore?” A thousand thoughts rush through your head, yet none of them makes sense. “Do you want to see other people?”

“No, no, no. Of course not. That’s not what I meant. I meant that…” He pauses, concentrating. “We don’t have much time left.”

“But what does that-“

“Forget it. Would you just follow me, 心肝? Humour me. Please.” Your eyebrows furrow at the odd hypocorism. Before you can answer him, Dan Feng is leading you towards the dock. Bright yellow ginkgo leaves drift down from the sky, signalling a change in the year as they fall. There’s a scent in the early autumn air, and it reeks of… gloom; fraught with melancholy and a lingering anxiety that seems to cling to you. It whispers into your ear sweet serenades, singing a cacophony of incoming danger. The signal of change grows to a warning.

“Why are we heading towards the water?”

“Please, 亲爱的. Do not question me right now. Just… let us have a simple conversation. Would that be alright?” He sighs as the two of you exit the main area of the Alchemy Commission.

“I guess… You’re acting weird, you know that?” you sigh. “How was your day?”

“Great. And yours?” He answers a little too quickly.

“It’d be better if I knew what was happening.” Dan Feng turns his head to look back at you, a million words he wants to say are hidden behind his watery eyes.

Your shoe gets stuck in a crack in the stone walkway as you’re busy staring at him. You stop to pull it out but Dan Feng yanks on you, your shoe slipping off of your foot as he continues walking.

“Hey, wait! 枫仔! My shoe!” He doesn’t let go, his hand shaking in yours with a sense of urgency. “How am I supposed to walk without it?” You hop on a single foot, trying to keep up with his pace. In response, he picks you up into a bridal carry, cradling you like a parent would for their child.

“O-oh. Uh… okay. I guess I don’t mind…” You look up at his trembling jaw. Whatever’s going on, it must be very important to Dan Feng. If only he’d spit it out already so that you could offer your comfort. But the most you can offer right now is a small kiss. You bring your head up, pressing your lips against his cheek before resting your head back down on his forearm. The display of affection causes Dan Feng to stop in his tracks, but he quickly starts walking again.

“I...” He clears his throat, a light blush blossoming on his face. “That… means a lot to me right now. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could offer you, 枫仔. You look so sad… Tell me what’s wrong.” He looks towards the horizon and the setting sun, a forlorn expression painting his face. The shadows of the evening light leave him looking especially somber. For a moment, he wants to tell you the whole truth. But he holds himself back to spare your feelings.

“I’m going somewhere. And… I won’t be returning. I am sorry, [name]. Truly. I do not wish to part ways but…” He looks down at you. A tear drips off of his face and onto yours. “There is nothing to be done about it. I… wouldn’t have done it if I realized the consequences sooner.”

“You’re… not joking. Would you tell me where you’re going? And when? Why are you being so vague?” You still couldn’t grasp the concept.

“亲爱的，you would hate me if I told you the whole truth. I could not leave knowing that you despised me. But… I’m sure you’ll find out soon when the news gets out.” Dan Feng looks back up towards the sky. You follow his gaze towards a few clouds that are coloured a hue of red from the sunset.

“I love you dearly. I apologize… I have forgone our future and forsaken you. Please remember me as someone you loved, and not a traitor to the Luofu.”

“Er… okay…? You’re really leaving?”

“Yes, I am afraid so…”

“…I love you too. Wherever you’re going, don’t forget that, okay? I… I really can’t believe it. I’m not gonna see you again. Ever…? Will you come visit me?”

“That is not possible, I fear. Though I wish more than anything that I could.”

The two of you reach the harbour. Dan Feng sets you down on the wooden planks and takes a seat beside you, dipping his legs into the water.

“Your pants are gonna be soaked, 笨蛋!”

“I am aware of that fact.” He pays you no mind, looking on into the horizon again. You gently hold is hand in yours.

“This… this is it? The last time I’ll see you? And we’re just… staring at nothing in complete silence?”

“You are speaking right now, [name].”

“What did you even do?” He glances at you. But as you make eye contact, he can’t seem to look away.

“…What are you doing?”

“You ask so many questions, 亲亲. I prefer it when you’re asleep. You’re much cuter in bed, too.” Dan Feng lightens up a little, a smile on his face as he teases you. “I’m just…” He shakes his head, as if to get himself out of a daze. “I’m just trying to remember your face. I need to make sure I don’t forget it…” His expression returns to how it was before, desolate and heartbroken.

“Make me a promise, 亲亲.”

“Go on.”

“We will meet in my next lifetime. And… we will live out a future that we could not have in this one.” He holds out his pinky finger and you take it.

“Sounds nice. I’ll hold you to it, Dan Feng.”

ask before translating, taking inspo from (not copy), reposting, etc. my work. remember to credit me and if you’re taking inspo from it, please @ me as I’d like to see what you do with my ideas!

#dan feng #honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #dan feng x reader #yinyue jun #yinyue jun x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader #.forestfics ☆

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bangtangalicious · 1 year

Text

nexus (m) part 3

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: taehyung x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 6k

warnings: explicit smut, rough penetrative unprotected sex, creampie, PRAISE KINK, degradation kink, dirty talk, lap dance, begging, petnames, some switch!tae action?, light choking, tae loves him sum ass, grinding, neediness/stuttering, oral (f), sexual tension, teasing, todays theme is LYING, manipulation, possessive behavior, mourning/fear, mentions of traumatic events, guns!, light violence/abuse, bad coping skills, drug use, obsessive themes, blackmail, gambling, psychiatric facilities and treatment **this is not realistic!!! the yandere is starting to show a lil oop, heartbreak, betrayal, but also like cute moments with tae, TWISTS AND TURNS BB this one kinda wild but not as wild as the next ones gonna be ;)

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Lost in the soft crinkling of flames, a young Jeon Jungkook hides—fearfully quivering inside his pantry. Heart racing with fear, hatred, all boiled up into his shaking hands. They had come to his house, tearing through it like it was nothing. Jungkook could merely watch as these suited men with their large guns trashed his home, breaking everything left and right while he hid, helpless. Utterly powerless.

Dad—his mind is spinning.

So he ran. Through the narrow alleys of the outer city. Stacked thing between tall, worn-down buildings—factories, apartments, grey smoke clouding the dark sky lit only by a gold shadow.

A sick feeling in his gut. A nasty premonition sending warning through his veins. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pausing a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t, not when sharp footsteps could be heard so near. He slipped behind a dumpster, hand pressed firmly against his chest as if it would muffle the pounding beats.

“You think you can get away with what you have done?”

Jungkook peeked out, eyes widening as he saw his father—on the ground, face covered in bruises with pure fear in his eyes. Unable to see much else. From the sounds of it, there must have been two or three others, but speaking was only one.

“I—I’m sorry” His father pressed his palms together, begging for forgiveness. Shame burned through Jungkook’s cheeks as he watched his father lay on his stomach, reaching for the shoes of the man who addressed him. “Forgive me, sir”

“Taehyung-ah” The voice addressed someone else, “Is this him?”

No response was heard. A moment passed. Seemingly, the slowest couple seconds Jungkook had ever lived.

And then there were gunshots. Jungkook shoved the side of his hand in his mouth, biting down as screams overtook him. Tears poured down his face—he couldn’t watch. He hugged his knees to his chest, sliding down the rough walls.

He heard the man spit on his father. He waited until the right moment before peering over the side one last time to see who it was.

He didn’t recognize the man. It was too dark to see his face but there was a vicious hate in his eyes. An anger that elicited fear from any who saw. His eyes diverted then to a younger boy by his side, trembling as he clung to the man’s sleeve.

“Hyung stop, please” The boy, clearly traumatized, was balling. “Let’s go home hyung”

The man smirked, dusting himself off before he lifted the younger boy into his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, let’s go home now, Taehyung”

The precinct was dimly lit. A sickly sheen reflecting from grimy tiled floors, walls with peeling paint, haphazard desks, stacks of manilla files. At this late hour, only a few officers remained, the stench of tobacco making your nose scrunch.

Jungkook ignored their disrespectful ogles. That Jeon, lucky fucker—pretty girl in cuffs tonight. He hovered his palm over the small of your back as though he were shielding you from their judgement.

You didn’t want his protection.

The interrogation room had a deadening silence. Your mind scrambling, attempting to piece together your next play. Your next lie.

A large, mirrored wall stared back at you—face to face with your opponent for the night. Could you keep it together? Or would you let Jin tear you apart from beyond the grave?

Jungkook’s fingers danced on the back of your neck, making you shudder. Unconsciously you arced your back to his touch, shocks down your spine as he unclipped your choker. He held it in his palm for a moment. The annoyed look in those dark eyes of his, as his fingers traced over the diamonds.

“Are these real?” You knew your answer would only piss him off, so you said nothing. Instead he took a seat across from you. A small pile of documents in front of him.

In front of you was a small machine. A polygraph. Jungkook placed the sensors on the inside of your wrist, ignoring the way you trembled at his cold touch. He was being careful. Your tears had the effect you had hoped. You could tell. His small gestures—your sadness made him uncomfortable. Stepping away, he observed you carefully.

“Did you know Jin was seeing someone?”

Typical Jeon Jungkook, you mused. To the point. No bullshit. Except you weren’t prepared. His questionrang in your ears. He was seeing someone.

“I didn’t” You said it, because it was true. Thinking back to the night. The kiss that had been years in the making. The kind of thing that inspired song—filled childish dreams. The kiss that wakes the princess up from a poison slumber. Instead, Jin’s kiss pulled you into his nightmare.

Jungkook bit back a smirk.

“Who?” Your voice was embarrassingly hoarse. Jealousy lacing every word.

You knew Jungkook must be enjoying watching you suffer. You’d be damned if you’d give him the satisfaction. Your nails were digging into your palms—the pain distracting from the pulsing hopelessness beating through your veins.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This was a game. It had to be. You didn’t know how—you didn’t know why. Somehow Jin was still fucking with you. Would he really have hidden something like that from you? A relationship. Had he loved them? Had he loved you? He said he did. Over and over and over again. You wondered if the meaning had faded.

Jungkook motioned to the document, “Namjoon didn’t want to force you into this marriage. Seokjin signed over Kim Enterprises to Namjoon in exchange for a promise of your engagement to Kim Taehyung, as well as control of Nexus—which is your mother’s company—right?”

The trick in poker, Jin had said—never let them know what you’re thinking.

Use pain. Focus on the most painful sensation in your body. It wipes your face of your real thoughts.

“I did not” The polygraph twitched.

“Interesting. Because all of these things combined give you a lot of motive to want Seokjin gone” Jungkook finally took a seat in front of you. “I wouldn’t blame you. They ruined my life too. Stole everything from me”

You stayed quiet. Jungkook was a new opponent. You weren’t familiar with how he played, yet.

“They killed my dad, ten years ago. Your mom disappeared too, didn’t she?”

Ten years ago. No bodies were found. No deaths declared. No explanation nor closure. Jin was there for you then, arms wide open to accept you in. Later the same year, Taehyung was sent away. You moved in immediately. You never asked why. You assumed it was what your mother would have wanted. The Kim’s took care of you, nursed you back to life. Jin, especially. He had always loved you so much.

Jin was seeing someone.

“Ever wondered what really happened to her?”

Your eyes were watery. Red with anger. You stared at him with hatred seething through your teeth.

“I know what happened to her”

The polygraph twitched. Jungkook grinned.

“Maybe we can help each other out then”

“Hi princess”

Jungkook released you shortly after. Walking out of the precinct, hands rubbing against the raw imprints of the cuffs, you saw a white sports car. Standing by the door with a dozen roses in his hand, was Taehyung.

Smiling softly, he welcomed you. He really was extremely attractive, eyes so magnetic you simply couldn’t look away. Pulling you into his space. He gave you a light hug—respectful yet comforting.

Jin died. He’s dead. “I need to go home,”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “I know” Is all he said. His eyes sparkled as he let his lips graze your forehead. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through”

Your heart pulsed. Taehyung had always been selfless. You crumbled into his kindness. Resting your face against his chest. Alone—the ungodly hour. The parking lot of the precinct. The faint sound of crows on the horizon.

“I missed you” He exhaled, meeting your gaze. “You have no idea how bad I missed you, princess”

The petname stung. You wondered if it always would. For Taehyung, you were his princess. For you, you were Jin’s. His princess, his love, his everything.

Because Taehyung hadn’t been here. He left you.

“If you missed me, why didn’t you just come home?” Your voice was shaking. “You never called. Never wrote. You even missed the funeral”

Taehyung let the roses fall from his hand. Gently he stroked your back, swaying your body side to side.

“I promise I will tell you everything, but right now just let me hold you”

The moment retreated into silence. Nothing but the slight swing of your hips. Taehyung’s hands explored your back, stroking you gently. His steady heartbeat lulling you into a sense of ease. He kissed the top of your head, humming softly.

After some time, Taehyung cupped your cheek. You looked at him questioningly.

“Let’s get you home”

Yoongi arrived in the precinct the next morning. His eyes crusty, dark circles from the night he lay away—in front of his computer digging for the truth. He was obsessed. It occurred to him how pathetic he was being. An ex-boyfriend trying to prove his girlfriend’s fiancée was no good. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

From his understanding, Park Jimin was a practicing psychologist. His age matched Taehyung’s—meaning the plausibility of Taehyung simply going under an alias was still there. He had no way to connect Park Jimin to the Kim family—at least not publicly.

But Yoongi had seen one too many serial killer movies. He thought of how brilliant it could be for someone to kill the only living person who knew what Kim Taehyung looked like to take his place. Whether he was right or not, he needed you to be safe. You were currently off with this man doing who knows what—the thought alone disgusted him.

He wanted to tear all the tiny fingers off that wretched heir. He wanted to burn him into the ground.

“Min Yoongi” The detective arrived in the room where he sat, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hi sir—yes, you’re Jeon Jungkook right? The detective investigating Kim Seokjin’s murder?”

Jungkook nodded slightly.

“I was wondering if you had information on Kim Taehyung” Yoongi gulped, pulling out his phone. He slid it over to Jungkook who looked at the screen skeptically. “That man—that’s Park Jimin. But—” His voice was a stuttering mess. But Jungkook deduced what he was trying to say.

“This is Kim Taehyung” Jungkook grumbled. “Interesting”

“I couldn’t find a connection. I was hoping maybe you would be able to use police resources to see? I’m just worried. He could be Jin’s killer”

Jungkook took a seat, pulling out his laptop. After scrolling for some time he paused. Chewing his lip.

“Who else have you told about this?”

Yoongi shook his head. “N-no one, I noticed it yesterday. He has a tattoo that I don’t think he should have if he was really Kim Taehyung because Taehyung wasn’t there when his mom died and Y/n said that—”

Jungkook held his hand up, “Breathe” He instructed firmly. Yoongi gasped. His palms were sweaty. Eyes quivering. “Y/n—are you a friend of hers?”

Yoongi’s movements stilled. “Um, kindof.”

“Ah, so you were fucking her” Jungkook folded his arms over his chest. “So you had motive”

Yoongi huffed, “I wouldn’t be here if I had something to hide”

Jungkook hummed in agreement. “Well Min Yoongi…looks like you might be onto something. Park Jimin was a registered patient at the Children’s Correctional Clinic ten years ago. That’s when Taehyung left—isn’t it? It looks like they must have altered his identity to protect their family or something”

“I see…that makes sense, I guess.”

“Don’t poke holes, these guys don’t play around Yoongi” Jungkook warned, shutting his laptop. “They do stuff like this all the time. Digging will only put you on their radar.”

Yoongi nodded, thanking him for his time. He hopped into his car—googling Children’s Correctional Clinic on his phone.

He called the number.

“Namjoon” Hobi emerged from his room, nothing but a fluffy blue robe adorning his figure. Outside the window, the late morning sunrays of Paris glimmered through into the penthouse. Hobi never stayed in one place too long, but he made enough to have multiple permanent homes. He preferred the consistency. He had lots of things he liked to collect—he was a hoarder, if you will. “I cannot keep harboring a fugitive”

Namjoon sat at the piano, glasses on the rim of his nose, staring at the document in his hand. “You knew about this—and you didn’t tell me?” His hand was shaking.

In his hands was his mother’s will.

In his hands, was all he ever dreamed.

“He wasn’t exactly eager to share the information” Hoseok sighed, walking up to Namjoon. He curled his fingers around his shoulders, massaging him gently. “Took some persuading—God, you’re so stiff you need to relax. Stress looks horrible on you, Joonie”

Stepping away, Hoseok slid open a mini decorative jar, studded with little jewels. Inside was a small bout of white power. Taking the matching little spoon he poured a little bit out onto a tray. Reaching into his robe’s pockets, he pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Rolling it up, he inhaled the powder quickly. “You want some?”

Namjoon ignored him, simply too stunned to react.

“Jin never got the company. I just never knew because he went to the will hearing while I,”

Hobi gave him a knowing look, “You need to forgive yourself. God knows she’s moved on. Honestly she’s better off for it, she’s killing it now”

Namjoon winced, recalling what he had done to you that night. It had all been for nothing—him crushing your spirit. The dirty deals he made with his brother the very next day, signing away things that were rightfully his—rightfully yours—without even realizing.

There could have been a different story. He could have gone to the will hearing. He could have had more faith in himself instead of stopping so low he needed to hurt Jin before he even had a reason. Maybe you would still like him. He would have learned to love you back. Maybe things could have been simple.

“He tricked all of us”

“That’s Seokjin for ya” Hobi sighed, walking over to the wall. It was decorated with a line of automatic rifles. No bullets, of course, but he liked to show off his collection. Reaching, he dismantled one. A personal favorite. A gift. Toying with the weapon in his hand, he smirked, “Greedy little fucker, that one. But Joonie I gotta ask, and you know I support you no matter what” He turned again. “Was it you? Did you kill your brother?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I don’t remember. But yeah, it’s possible”

The man at the clinic handed Yoongi a box. “These are all of our visitor logs from ten years ago. Hopefully that helps”

Thanking him, Yoongi immediately began digging through the files. He scanned the names of the visitors—until his eyes narrowed down—Kim Seokjin. So, he had been here.

Tracing the row with his finger, he noticed the patient Jin had come to see—patient ID 1230. Setting it aside, he pulled out another stack of files—room assignments. He located the patient ID, registered under KTH. Kim Taehyung. His roommate was patient 1013.

“Excuse me, do you know who I should talk to if I am trying to find someone who was admitted here?” Yoongi called out to the receptionist.

“Usually patient files are confidential, sir. But when most of our patients grow too old for our facility, they get transferred to another luxury facility, The Rose House.

“Perfect, thank you so much”

Everything reminded you of him.

The same steps you used to fall down. He’d reach out his hand, pull you up, not letting go until you’d stop crying. Your room—the doorway in which he would come in, leaning against the frame as he would ask you about your day. His room, where you would sneak into at night, snacks in your hand, getting high under the stars.

The bathroom where you stared at your own face. Instead, you saw him. Smiling. As he would place the choker around your neck. I got you this. Happy birthday, princess. Diamonds suit you. You gasped—turning the sink on. Letting it fill to the rim. You ducked your head down, letting the cool sensation cover your face.

You held your breath.

You won’t lose me, ever.

This was all your fault. Wasn’t it?

“Y/n!”

Dizzy—you blinked as a hand pulled you back. It was Taehyung, eyes quivering with worry.

“What the fuck” He mumbled, grabbing a towel, and wiping your face. You sighed, helplessly. The last thing you wanted was a confrontation. It was just something you liked to do—it helped you clear your mind. God knows what Taehyung thought he was walking in on.

Taehyung stared at you, dabbing your wet skin.

“You’re hurting” He said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes”

Stopping his movements, you shook your head. “I’m alright, Taehyung. Go back to sleep”

Taehyung pouted. You smiled immediately, remembering how bratty he used to be. He would hate seeing you sad—always wanting to see you smile.

“I honestly can’t sleep” He confessed, setting the towel aside. “It feels strange, being back”

You understood. Ten years was a long time—specifically to be the age Taehyung had been gone for. He was a little kid, and now he was a man. If you had met him on the street you probably wouldn’t have even recognized him.

“Do you wanna sleep in my room? I don’t really mind. It’s pretty fucking big” You chuckled. Taehyung gave an eager smile, nodding quickly.

“That would be great, noona” You scrunched your nose in distaste. Taehyung giggled. “No? No noona? Alright I’ll just stick to princess Y/n” He poked you playfully.

You rolled your eyes, pinching his cheek fondly.

Guns. Guards. Yoongi shuddered nervously as he stared at the facility gate. It looked less like a hospital, more like a resort. He would expect nothing less for the Kim prince.

“I’m here to see Kim Taehyung” The words left his mouth before he could even process them.

“Right this way” Yoongi exhaled in relief. He followed the receptionist into the space. Palm trees all around. A group doing yoga. Another painting flowers. Some people simply meditating on their own.

Not a bad set up. Yoongi mused.

“Mr. Kim isn’t in this wing” The receptionist noticed Yoongi looking around, confused. “We keep extreme cases in the basement”

The basement. He followed the receptionist down a dark series of stairs. Opening the door, he squinted. The white light was nauseating. Slick like a hospital, nurses scurrying about. The rooms were glass. Walls plain.

Just looking at it made him feel crazy.

“Don’t worry, they can’t see you” Yoongi stared at the patients, each in their own space, some crying, some screaming, some staring aimlessly into space. “They’re treated well. Get to go outside, supervised, at scheduled times. They eat, sleep. See their doctor. All from rich families so, money serves them good”

They halted at the end of the hall. Yoongi peered into the room. A man sat on the bed, legs crossed casually, reading a book.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. The resemblance to his mother was uncanny.

“Buzz if you need anything” The receptionist walked away. Gulping, Yoongi carefully opened the door.

The man’s eyes shifted in his direction. Carefully he set the book down.

“T-Taehyung?”

He stared at Yoongi for a while. As though he was trying to figure out who he was. Finally, a smile crawled onto his face.

“Ding ding ding” His grin widened, “We have a winner”

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Fingers tracing the lacey ends of the stockings as you pulled them up to the top of your thighs. The small floral pattern, dainty and delicately crafted, fit for an angel.

Your lips quivered at the irony.

Jin had bought it for you. Jin had bought a lot of things for you. Gifts or on request. He never denied you of anything material thing you could ever want.

The bathroom was cold, as the stocking did little to subdue the goosebumps running up and down your legs. You shivered, reaching for your lip gloss—the final touches.

Taking a deep breath, you exited the bathroom. Your long white stilettos knocking against the tile. There was less light in the room, only the dim halo from your bedside lamp.

Taehyung sat on the bed, thighs spread, leaning back against his wrists—waiting for you, patiently. He suggested a nice dinner. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little better. From what you could gather he was very observant. A great listener, and an amazing person to get comfort from.

“You look…amazing” Of course—that had been your intention. Taehyung wanted to talk—but you were tired of talking. He made you feel good. He made you feel seen.

Taehyung himself looked delectable—white shirt tucked into tight black jeans. Approaching him you ran your fingers through his hair.

“You clean up real nice yourself”

He traced the strap on your shoulder. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Your hands glazed over his thighs before you slid to your knees.

“Wait what are you—”

You flattened your palms, running them across his legs as you blinked at him innocently. His breath quickened, watching in awe as you stood up again, crawling into his lap.

“Something wrong?” One by one you popped his buttons open, not letting your eyes leave his. Your fingernails scraped against his chest, making him hiss.

“Princess” He warned, still not moving. You unzipped his jeans, hooking a finger into his belt loop before sliding back down to your knees—taking his pants with you. You kissed the tops of his knees, travelling up his thighs as he shuddered.

Your fingers fanned out over his bulge. Taehyung cursed inwardly. You wanted to put on a show for him. Wanted him to need you so bad he couldn’t take it. Because you wanted him. Wanted to feel him everywhere. Taehyung leaned forward suddenly, tilting your face up. Thumb tracing your lip. You stuck your tongue out, wrapping his thumb in between your glossy lips.

He watched you suck on his thumb obscenely.

“Stop” His voice was stern. He was not fucking around. He looked serious in a way that gave you chills. “We shouldn’t”

You released him. You were tired of being told no. What was the point of all the wealth—all the luxury—if you couldn’t have what you wanted? Was it so wrong—was it so fucking wrong for you to want to sleep with your fiancée? The man that your lover was forcing you to marry—the man who you barely knew?

“Please” You pressed your chest against his, pulling his face into your neck. His nose traced your jaw as he inhaled sharply. Hands finding your lower back.

“Please fuck me” Your lips dragged against his ear, making him shudder. Voice barely above a whisper. Seductive—as you rolled your hips teasingly.

You asked so nicely, there was no way he would say no.

A low growl left Taehyung’s lips. He immediately stood up, lifting you by your thighs. He tossed you down onto the bed, quickly climbing over your frame. Vicious—desperate—his lips found yours, tugging at them. Tongue piercing through, swallowing you in. His fingers gripping your legs, pulling them apart, nails digging into your flesh as he slotted himself where he wanted.

“You bitch” He breathed out, rolling his hard cock against you. “Such a fucking tease”

You mewled, wrapping your legs around him. The friction sending shocks through you. His touch was electric, grabbing handfuls of your ass as his lips slanted across your jaw. He scented all over your neck, nipping your skin.

“Here I am trying to be so good to you, but you’re such a little slut” You cradled his head against you, moaning out as he nibbled your ear. Heat pulsed through your chest, down between your legs.

“Yeah I am. And what are you gonna do about it?” You smiled against him, knowing he could feel it. You arced your back, allowing him to unzip your little dress. He slid it off you in a swift motion, tossing it aside.

Hovering over you, his eyes scanned over your body—licking his lips. His fingers traced your panties, slipping inside briefly. He grinned watching you blush—your wetness leaking against the flick of his finger.

“So wet for me. So needy—fuck” Immediately he climbed back over you, latching his lips to your chest. He kissed you all over—mouth open wide, sucking and tugging at your flesh. You gasped—legs failing in the air as he continued to trail his kisses down your stomach. Dragging your panties to your knees, he pressed his nose between your legs. Heat burned through your face.

You reached for him, grabbing a handful of his hair. He carefully licked your throbbing folds. Twitches overtook your body as he drank you up. Tongue slipping deep inside you. His fingers tracing your stockings, holding your thighs up over his shoulders.

“T-taehyung” You screamed, gasping loudly as pleasure seized every fiber of you. Abruptly he pulled away, causing you to whimper.

“Don’t” He gritted his teeth, “Don’t call me that”

You gulped, “What do you want me to call you?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder it for a while. “Anything just—not my name”

You would have questioned it more, except he shed his boxers. His cock eager for you. He towered over you, aggressively jerking along his length. You propped yourself up, licking the tip cautiously.

Your panties painfully jut into your thighs, but Taehyung lined his cock up with your folds. He let a glob of spit fall onto your clit before rubbing it all over. You panted heavily, sweat collecting on your forehead. Eyes clenching shut as you felt his tip burn into you.

“Look at me” Taehyung growled, reaching for your neck. He gripped it tightly, forcing you to watch as he pushed his length in.

“F-fuck” Your eyes rolled back. Pain shot through you, your legs trapped. Taehyung didn’t care. He groaned loudly, hissing curses as he bottomed out. Without another thought, he began to pummel into you. The slippery noises making you dizzy with need. His fingers wrapping fully around your neck, nose brushing against yours. The bed creaked under you. His cock twitching as he fucked. In and out. Hitting you deep in your core.

“Princess” He sighed loudly, lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, squeezing him for all he was worth “You don’t know h-how much I wanted this—how bad I prayed for this, Y/n—I always wanted you so bad. So bad”

His words sputtering as he began to pump you even faster. “Wanna fuck you all the time. Want you so bad princess—this is all I want. Wanna cum inside you, make you all mine—fuck—you’re all mine princess, you always were”

Wet skin echoed through the room. The feeling of his cock filling you up just right. Sutffing you deep before he’d slam his hips, fucking into you again.

“You wanted me to take you like this, just always looking so pretty to fuck—that pretty little dress you had on—your little games—just wanted my fat cock in this little cunt didn’t you? Didn’t you princess?”

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your neck. “Dressing up pretty for me. Begging for my cum. Go on, beg for it princess. Tell me what you want” Releasing his grip you gasped for air.

“Please cum inside me baby” You traced his face fondly, “You feel so good”

Taehyung smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Huh? You like this?”

You nodded, kissing him deep. “I love it baby” Taehyung’s hips jerked.

“Yeah you do. Fuck.” He sped up, eyes rolling back in pleasure “Take it. Take my cum—fuck—gonna fuck you so deep”

You moaned against his lips. He shuddered, grabbing your hips as he spilled inside you. Panting heavily, he buried his face in your chest. You too were out of breath, twitching with pleasure.

Taehyung kissed your shoulders, staying nestled inside your warm folds. He rolled over, holding you close. “You’re amazing” He sighed before kissing your lips again—this time soft, sweet. “You’re everything I dreamed of”

You smiled weakly. “That was really good Taehyung” You noticed him flinch at his name. “Thank you”

Taehyung kissed your cheek. “I can’t say no to you” His breath steadied, Pausing for a moment, he continued. “But we should have waited. You’re going through a lot. Now, I’ve loved you for a long time, I thought about you every day I was gone. But for you, this is sudden. This is fast. I understand that” He gazed at you as though you were so incredible, so precious, it made your heart melt.

��You were being forced to marry me” He cleared his throat, tracing your lips, “But I want you to want me. Want you to love me like I’ve spent the last ten years loving you”

What you had felt for Jin—it was strong. Overwhelming. Made you want to fall to your knees in defeat.

But Taehyung was here. He was the calm in the storm. The two of you were connected. And at the end of the day,

Jin was dead.

And you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Yoongi couldn’t even believe his eyes. He sat at the foot of Taehyung’s bed after explaining who he was, watching as the heir flipped to the back of his book. There was a section carved out—filled to the brim with small white pills.

“They were drugging me. To keep me here”

“Oh my god” What the hell did he just get himself into? Yoongi thought about the test he could be studying for instead of acting like a maniac. It was your fault. You made him like this. He would only do these things for you.

Taehyung shrugged “Figured it out, eventually...so I stopped taking the pills”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Ten years. The thought alone creeped him out. Being trapped in a place like this. The kind of trauma this would cause a person—it was beyond cruel. They might as well have killed him off.

“Why?”

Taehyung blinked blandly. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. So they sent me away. Convinced me it wasn’t real”

Yoongi felt queasy. He knew the Kim family was fucked up—but this was bizarre, even for him. “I’m so sorry” Truly, he didn’t know what else to say.

Taehyung scoffed, “Few years ago, Dr. Park got assigned to me per my guardian’s request. Put me on new meds—the wrong meds”

A few years ago—Yoongi pondered, maybe around when Chairwoman Kim died? Could Jin have orchestrated all of this? Yoongi wouldn’t put it past the lying bastard.

“I guess using whatever you’ve told him, Dr. Park convinced everyone that he’s you” Yoongi confessed. Taehyung didn’t react. “He stood in for you at your engagement”

“Engagement?” Taehyung tilted his head. Did he not even know?

“To Y/n”

The name made his eyes widen. The book fell from his hands. Pills scattered everywhere. Still. Motionless, he stared at nothing.

“Sir” Jungkook groaned as an officer approached him. He hated being interrupted when he was focusing. He hadn’t heard from you—he wondered if you had considered his offer. Together he was certain he could tear the Kim family to pieces. They deserved nothing less, not after what they did to him, you, and who knows how many others. In his pocket was your diamond choker. His fingers traced the rough edges of the jewels.

“What?”

“Min Yoongi is here again to see you” Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes. The last thing he needed was to waste time on a jealous ex-boyfriend of yours and his conspiracy theories.

Jungkook walked out towards the interrogation room. Stepping inside, he immediately noticed the another man. Tall, extremely handsome, messy black hair and sickly pale skin. Eyes thin, sinister. A face somewhere between bored and amused, Jungkook couldn’t quite tell.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to Yoongi, unphased. “What now Mr. Min?”

“Detective Jeon. Meet Kim Taehyung”

Jungkook inhaled as Yoongi went on to explain how he tracked the young heir down. He watched the man carefully. The man stared at him right back. He felt something tight in his throat.

It was a power play. The man was unwavering, but Jungkook wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. So we meet again Kim Taehyung. It’s been a while.

When Yoongi finished his story, Jungkook simply shrugged “Prove it”

The man smirked, eyes dropping, scanning Jungkook’s figure up and down with intrigue.

“I know who killed your daddy”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jungkook continued to glare at him, fists clenching. He did bear the resemblance. The twisted look in his eyes was a classic Kim trait after all.

Jungkook rolled his tongue in his cheek. This isn’t good.

“Yoongi, you and Taehyung stay here. I want you both under police protection. I will go get Y/n and make sure she is safe. Then we will figure out how to prove all this and arrest Park Jimin. Maybe he’s connected to the murder, maybe he isn’t”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a look. Taehyung tilted his head. “What murder?”

Oh. Jungkook tapped his finger against the table lightly. “Your brother—Kim Seokjin, was murdered”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Hyung? He’s dead?”

Both Yoongi and Jungkook stared at him, unsure how to proceed. “Yeah, and right now the evidence points at Y/n—but I don’t really believe she is responsible”

Taehyung cleared his throat, “What about Namjoon? He’s alive isn’t he?”

Jungkook nodded and Taehyung let out a sigh of relief.

“You do know” Yoongi started, “That your mother is dead—right?”

Taehyung’s face fell. Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who bit his tongue. Idiot.

“I didn’t know that” Taehyung exhaled slowly. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Jungkook. “Take us with you. She won’t believe you otherwise”

Jungkook frowned slightly. He pondered a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another second in proximity with a man that witnessed his father’s murder. The man who pointed his finger and caused it. But he had to be careful. He had to think smart.

“Fine”

Waking up in Taehyung’s arms was a dream. You felt light—weightless and free. He smelled like heaven, his warm body radiating onto you. Staring at his face, you observed his features closely. His eyelashes, his adorable nose, pouty lips. You remembered how he had a little spot on his face. Tilting his head to the side you searched for it.

Hm. You pursed your lips when you didn’t see it. Maybe he was still wearing some makeup. Taking his hand in yours, you began to kiss the pads of his fingers.

You saw his tattoo. Weird. You remembered Namjoon and Jin going together to get their family crest ingrained on their bodies. It had been a melancholy moment. A healing moment where you began to wonder if those two brothers could find love in each other ever again.

Maybe Taehyung got it when he was gone. He never did tell you why he never came back when his mom died.

You wondered if Jin would go visit him.

Jin.

Your heart began to sink into a deep pit. The screams came back to your ears.

“Fuck you—you liar” You screamed, hands trembling around the gun.

“Stop acting so innocent Y/n” Jin snapped, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?”

You froze.

Jin let out a shaky breath, face red with anger “I was trying to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do” He stepped closer. Closer. And closer. Until you could feel him. Feel the betrayal in his eyes. The gun slipped from your hands.

“You would have taken everything I had” You growled. “You lying piece of shit”

“You don’t understand—Nexus is dangerous. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

Jin slapped you clean across the face. Your jaw dropped, the pain stinging from impact—deeper in your chest when you processed what he had done.

“That’s enough” A deep voice cut through. A wave of relief crashing over you. Footsteps neared—they were hurried, angry. You shut your eyes.

Something shattered. Your eyes opened. In front of you a man stood, raging. Jin was on the floor, blood on his eye. Jin laughed.

“Nice of you to join us, Hoseok”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: get ready bc the next part is jimin's pov baby ;) send your theories! would love to know what yall think <3 (begs for feedback)

also you're hot and dont you forget it! thanks for reading :) <3

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glam-pir · 11 months

Text

- introduction to writeblr -

p e r s o n a l i n f o

hi !! i'm em, i'm 18, almost 19, and i use she/they pronouns. writing's always been part of my life, i've just never actually believed i could do it. so, here i am, yada yada yada more cheesy shit. anyways, i'm in college so my activity levels are all over the place, i'm hoping having a blog to even myself out and make myself stay consistent will actually work. i love all things dark, gloomy, scary, and puzzle-ey, which goes without saying that my hobbies follow the same tragectory. i've been playing piano since i was four years old and i love writing music, solving puzzles, writing and reading (goes without saying frankly).

a b o u t m y w r i t i n g

let’s get into it, shall we? i really like a blether, and by that i mean i’m indecisive beyond words. my most common genres in the overarching sense is urban fantasy combined with cosmic horror, and high fantasy. i love worldbuilding don’t come for me i’m sensitive.

but in terms of smaller little motifs and themes, i love delving into folklore (slavic and north african, gotta stick to my roots), low fantasy and surrealism, political intrigue, dark romanticism, gothic horror, monster girls, lesbians, a good ole butch/femme dynamic, dead people, ghosts, generational stories, and of course, anything you could listen to depeche mode while reading.

w i p i n f o

jesus it’s uh, um, it’s a mess in here, please ignore the state of my mind rn, all titles are subject to change, for now i'll be titling them by vibe and vibe alone, these will probably be their tags for the forseeable future, also they're all gay

no guts, all gory

a story of suspicious internships, monsterous girls, the desire for knowledge, dead people, things man was not mean to see, and lunch dates with your coworkers. [ low fantasy / surrealism / cosmic horror ]

baba yaga's moving castle

a story of matriarchies, political intrigue, slavic folklore. [ high fantasy / multiple povs ]

gas station prophecies

a story of gas station prophets, things in the fog, shadows in the woods, spooky towns and liminal spaces, odd summer vacations, and some very important realizations. [ low fantasy / surrealism / gothic horror / coming of age ]

saints of nothing at all

a story of secret societies that are worse than they seem, culty schools, ✨cunty✨outfits, mean girls, meaner lesbians, himbos, ballroom dancing, and just a little bit of a roll in the uncanny valley. [ surrealism / hauntings / gothic horror / academia ]

#writeblr #writing #creative writing #writer #my writing #original writing #fiction #writeblr things #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writeblr community #fantasy #surrealism #cosmic horror #gothic horror #low fantasy #high fantasy

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bitty-bytes · 6 months

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"I've never seen anything as beautiful as you."

"AWWW"

"Shut up, Rhaast. I'm trying to have a moment here."

♡ ♡ ♡

Thank you so much to @itoshikimaegirl for this beautiful commission!!! Look at them having an intimate moment... They're such cute lovebirds. You captured the tenderness they have for each other so well!

#self ship #self shipping #f/o tag: love in the shadows #f/o: kayn #oc x canon #commission #self ship art #yumeship #selfship community

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thisismeracing · 6 months

Text

CARLOS SAINZ MASTERLIST

✦ CARLOS SAINZ ▶ CS55

All my Carlos posts here

▸ main masterlist | patreon guide ▸ taglist ▸ who I write for & guidelines ▸ subscribe to Patreon for exclusive content ▸ tip me on ko-fi

KEYS: s: smut f: fluff a: angst o: others ✷: Patreon exclusive

⸻ ✦ SOCIAL MEDIA AU

paint the town red (a): Being yourself and following your dreams can be hard when you’re in a relationship that doesn’t give you the space to do so. Yn spent years in Charles’ shadows, but she’s ready to show that her music is still there, and so is love which she finds closer than she expected with another Ferarri boy.

the one (a/f): Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song.

to be alone with you (f): A glimpse into Yn's little reading world and how Carlos supports her passion.

― ✦ BLURBS

Soon

― ✦ REGULAR IMAGINES

Literature lovers (s)✷: One of your favorite writers once said that “destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected”, deep down you knew he was right, but you had never given it too much thought. Well, at least not until you heard the Spanish Literature professor say those words looking at you. Of course, it was dangerous grounds, but things clicked, and as he said so himself, destiny guided you together.

― ✦ CONCEPTS

professor!sainz (tag)

― ✦ HEADCANONS

♡ professor!sainz

#cs55 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz jr #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #op: masterlists #f1 fandom

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sasslett · 1 month

Text

B A S I C S

Name: Jess Varlineau

Nicknames: None, actually.

Age: 28

Nameday: 22nd Sun of the 11th Umbral Moon, I think.

Race: Hyur (Highlander)

Gender: Female

Orientation: Varrus

Profession: the Warrior of Light's shadow

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Straight, long, dark brown. Typically partially pulled back or left loose.

Eyes: Brown

Skin: Fairly pale, all things considered

Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, but a scar across her abdomen from when Zenos caught her unaware in Rhalgr's Reach

F A M I L Y

Parents: Roric and Gisela, freedom fighters for the Ala Mhigan Resistance, deceased

Siblings: None that she knows of (though in some alternate non-WoL universe she's become @scholarlostintime's Eolyn's long lost older sister lol)

Grandparents: All I can say is they lived in Gyr Abania and they're deceased

In-laws and Other: Her husband, Varrus Varlineau, and his family: His mother, Marienne, his sister, Valissa, and his cousin, Estinien

Pets: None at the moment

S K I L L S

Abilities: Dragoon/lance combat, as the Azure Dragoon she's able to push her limits and harness the power of the Eye, though she draws her power from Hraesvelgr rather than Nidhogg after the Steps of Faith, and also she's damn good at cooking

Hobbies: Reading, particularly history tomes and stories of adventure, exploring, helping others (genuinely), sparring, and sleeping in the arms of the man she loves

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Determination. She never lets anything stop her, and once she decides on something, she damn well follows it through

Most Negative Trait: Impatience. She often prefers to act first, think later, and much dislikes waiting around for the other boot to drop, even when it's the correct thing to do

L I K E S

Colors: Red, gold, silver, purple by association

Smells: Worn leather, fresh bread, a crackling fire, the smell of the forest after a rain

Textures: Worn wood, polished steel, creased leather, the smooth skin of her husband's chest

Drinks: Hot cocoa, warm tea, pineapple juice on the beach (soon)

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: No

Drinks: No, despite being a bartender for ten years - or perhaps because of it

Drugs: Never

Mount Issuance: Due to her frequently helping out around Bentbranch, the breeders offered her one of their runtier birds, who she thusly dubbed Helios

Been Arrested: No, not until it happens in the MSQ, inevitably. She may be chaotic in theory but she's fully lawful good

tagged by both @paintedscales and @ubejamjar, thank you! And I'll leave this as an open tag, as I was late to do this (sorry this week has been hell) and so most everyone I know has done it already!

#tagged #my wols #thank you!!

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https--cosmic-moving · 3 months

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＃ Shadow Milk Cookie Moodboard !

　　- Jester + Love letter themes

　　Day o2: “ A character/theme which reminds you of your beloved ;♡; or A character/theme which is in love ”

　- For @vamplita's event

　- Reblog + Credit if using

　- Do not tag as F/O

DNI if:

Anti-Anti, Racist/White Supremacist, Homophobe, Transphobe, Acephobe, Arophobe, Biphobe, Panphobe, Ableist, Pro-Autism Speaks, Radfems/TERFs, Incestuous (including pseudo-incest), Zoo, Necro, MAP, 18+ Blog/Mostly NSFW Blog.

#shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie #crk shadow milk cookie #cookie run #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #moodboard #lovecore #love aesthetic #editblr #jester aesthetic #vamplita event #lovecore moodboard #⌦🌙﹕edit﹒pngꕀ #⌦🌙﹕board﹒jpegꕀ #⌦🌙﹕event﹒mp4ꕀ

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geralt-of-baevia · 1 month

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Call It What You Want: Chapter Three

pairing: nooutbreak!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 2.4k

summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.

As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.

warnings/tags: uhh, i'd say maybe just warnings of injury? that's the biggest one honestly. talks of the age difference, too. And fluff 😉?

a/n: hi guys! i hope y'all liked the first chapter. this chapter is a short one, but don't worry! the next one is much longer and event filled muahahahah.

“So, what do you do?”��

Joel looked up at me from the spot on the deck he was working on, sweat dripping from his brow. I crossed my arms over my torso, making sure to stay balanced on the railing where I was sitting.

“What’d’ya mean?” he asked, hammering a nail into a board.

“Like for work. You said you’re a retired carpenter, so what do you do now?” I asked.

Joel stood up straight, wiping his brow on the back of his forearm.

“I’m a school bus driver.”

“Are you a grumpy bus driver or a nice one? Do the little kids love being on your bus route? Or do you always yell at them to sit down and be quiet?” I asked.

“I’d like to think I’m a nice bus driver. I’ve only ever made one kid cry, so I think that’s a good track record.”

I raised my eyebrows mockingly. “Only one?”

“I swear to god, cross my heart and hope to die,” he said, crossing his chest with his finger.

“So that’s why you’re not working right now, huh? You get summers off.”

“Yep. It’s a pretty good deal. I like havin’ summers off. I get to do whatever I want-”

“Like sweating your ass off in the heat fixing bad wood in a deck?” I asked, cutting him off.

“I’d rather do it in weather like this than the pouring rain. That’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass,” he stated. I shrugged.

“That’s fair I guess.” I lifted my arms up to stretch and was hit with the unfortunate smell - of myself. I must have made a face as I threw my arms back down because Joel let out a chortle.

“Can’t stand your own stink? That’s pretty bad,” he jeered. I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t help it! It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack right now, and the house does not get cool enough. Now was not the time to find out the air conditioning is shotty,” I said in a huff.

“Oh don’t worry too much about it. I’ll bring you over an air conditioning unit for your bedroom that we’ll use as a temporary solution until I can get things to fix the A/C,” he said. Joel picked up another board and a few nails before nailing into place next to the last one he had finished.

“But, with that said, I think I’m going to go take a cold shower. It’ll cool me down and I can wash the coating of sweat I have on me off,” I said, hoping down from the railing.

“Well, this shouldn’t take much longer, maybe 30 mins. Are you sure you can’t wait that long? Then I can go up and install the new curtain. What you have going on up there still scares me,” he said, not looking up from his hammering.

“Joel, I’ve had it like that for three months, it’s fine. And if I wait any longer my stench might knock me out,” I laughed. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

“Oh whatever, I’ll be fine,” I said with a fake scoff, heading inside.

I was hit with warm, stagnant air. Even though it was hot outside, at least the air was fresh. I went around downstairs and opened a few windows on both sides of the house to get airflow going before going upstairs. After getting the shower started, I opened the window and went in and opened my bedroom window as well. As I walked back to the bathroom I could already tell the difference.

Once I was in the shower I immediately grabbed my bar of soap and washcloth and began scrubbing my body down, especially my armpits. I could hear Joel hammering outside, it echoing through the open window.

A school bus driver. Not what I would expect from him, but at the same time it suited him very well.

I set down my bar of soap on its holder and the wash cloth along with it before moving onto washing my hair. As I picked up my bottle of shampoo, I accidentally knocked down my bar of soap.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself, puting the conditioner back down. I went to step to the side to be able to reach down and grab the rogue soap, but I stepped on it instead.

It all happened so quickly. My foot came out from under me and knocked me off balance. I hit my shoulder against the shower wall as I fell. A sharp, stabbing pain struck me. Instictually I tried to grab for something with my non-injured arm. The only thing to hold onto though was the shower curtain.

I grabbed onto it with a slippery hand and pulled it down with the force of my fall, ripping one of the bolts hold it up out of the ceiling. As I landed painfully into the tub, slipping down towards the drain, the bar once holding up the curtain hit me on the forhead. A searing pain masked my face.

All I could do for a minute was sit there, my arm throbbing and my vision tunneling a little. I looked down into the drain and saw the water stained pink, meaning my forehead injury wasn’t merely a bruise, but a cut.

Once I broke through the haze of shock, I started shouting.

“Joel!” I yelled, thanking the heavens I had opened the windows.

Nothing.

“Joel!”

Nothing, again.

“JOEL! I fell and need help-”

Before I could finish my sentence, Joel practically burst through the bathroom door out of breath.

“Violet, what the hell happened?” he asked. He started to take a few steps towards me then stopped, his eyes widening. I knew it had just sunk in that I was bleeding and naked in the tub, the water still going and hitting me in the chest.

“Um, I fell on my soap and hit my arm and now it really hurts and I think the blood is coming from my head,” I told him, trying hard to not let the tears welling in my eyes to blink over. I grabbed the shower curtain and covered myself as best I could.

“Can you please come turn the water off?”

He nodded and came over and turned the knob, the water ceasing with a loud squeak.

“Okay, first here.” I watched as he searched through the cabinet until he found a washcloth. He returned to the tub and placed it in my hand before taking it and leading it up to my forehead. “Put pressure here. We don’t want you bleeding too much.”

“Joel, what about my arm. I don’t feel like I can move,” I said in a whine.

“Not at all?”

I shook my head.

“I have an idea, hold on.”

I laid my head back against the cool porcelain of the tub and closed my eyes, it helping the throbbing that was starting in my head. When I opened my eyes again Joel was standing over me with a towel in his hands. I closed my eyes again, my eyelids feeling too heavy to hold open.

“Okay, I’m going to lay this over you and then scoop you up,” he stated. I nodded, not opening my eyes. “Violet, Vi - you have to keep your eyes open.”

I felt one of his hands grab my face, shaking it gently. My eyes opened slowly. I was surprisingly comforted by his face being so close to mine, his deep brown eyes locking with mine. “You gotta keep your eyes open and stay awake, okay?” I nodded.

Through my haze of pain I saw Joel open the towel and lay it over me. He pulled out the shower curtain from between me and the towel, throwing it to the side.

“Alright, you’ll need to put your good arm around my neck,” he started, leaning down to get closer to me. I felt him move my arm, and with a grunt I was being raised up by strong arms. My body immediately melted against him, his warm chest feeling comforting.

“Which room is yours?” he asked.

“Two doors to the right,” I told him. We started moving again, and before I knew it I was being laid down gently on my bed.

“Alright, what clothes should I grab out for you?”

“What are we going to do Joel?”

He chuckled. “We’re taking you to the hospital, Violet. You have a gash on your forehead and you more than likely dislocated your shoulder.”

“So that’s why I can’t move it and it hurts like a motherfucker?” I asked before adding, “Just pick something out for me to wear, shorts and a shirt. I don’t care.”

He went over to my dresser and started looking for the items I asked for. “Yes that would be why. Once I was camping with my brother Tommy, and I dislocated my shoulder falling during a hike. Tommy popped it back in for me. It was some of the worst pain I’ve been in, but it made it feel better instantly,” he said, coming back over to me.

“That’s so comforting,” I jeered, “now help me get dressed.”

Joel hesitated momentarily but then began helping me get my clothes on. He was patient and helpful, in a way that made me wonder if he was a dad before, or maybe even an Uncle. Once we got to putting on my shirt, we both stopped, not sure how to go about putting my shirt on.

“Here, hold on, maybe this will work,” he mumbled. As he tried to gently put the shirt on over my arm, I clutched the towel to my chest, not wanting anything to slip.

Somehow we got my shirt on, but now my shoulder hurt more.

“Joel? Are you able to put my hair up in a scrunchie for me?” I asked, pointing to my bedside table. Joel nodded and went over and grabbed one of the scrunchies that laid on top of the table.

To my surprise, Joel put my hair up with ease. I relaxed a little as his hands skillfully ran his fingers through my hair and pulled it back.

“Alright, I’m going to go shut all of the windows, and then we’ll get you downstairs and into my truck,” he said with a nod before disappearing out into the hallway.

While he was away doing that, I got to my feet to put on some slippers. I hobbled across the room to my dresser and slid on my shoes. Joel was taking what seemed too long for me, so I ventured out into the hallway to see where he was. When I got to the top of the stairs, I looked down and saw Joel beginning to come upd.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, rushing up the stairs to me, “lets take you down gently and with my help, we don’t need you falling down the stairs, too.”

He moved to the side with my good arm and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me firm and still as we walked down the stairs. Joel took them at my pace, letting me walk down them one by one when I was ready until we got to the bottom of the stairs.

I told Joel where my wallet was, and after he grabbed it and my keys by the door we headed out to the hospital. He had an old beat up truck and I was thankful for the bench seat in it, allowing me to curl up after Joel put my seatbelt on over me.

When we got to the hospital, Joel parked by the entrance of the emergency room. He rushed into the building, returning momentarily with a wheelchair. Joel brought it over to my side of the truck, opened the door, and helped me sit in it.

Once we were in the hospital, Joel helped me check in at the front desk and we were told to wait in the waiting room. Before we left the counter, the nurse handed Joel a clipboard and a pen.

Joel wheeled me over to the corner of the large waiting room and parked me next the empty seat he took a seat in.

“Alright, so you haven’t been here before so they want you to fill out this form. And something tells me you’re not left handed…”

I giggled. “No, I’m right handed. Will you fill it out for me?”

“Sure. Alright, first one: full name.”

“Violet Christine Fletcher.”

“Date of birth?”

“August 23rd, 1992.”

He paused for a moment to do the mental math. “You’re 30?”

“Yes, I’m 30. How old did you think I was?” I asked.

“I thought you were closer to 25,” he responded, signs of relief playing over his face. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“People have thought I was younger my whole life. I guess as I get older that’ll be a good thing,” I said. “How old are you?”

“My birthday is September 26th, 1967,” he stated, mumbling out the year of his birth. I giggled.

“That’s why you’re retired, you’re over 55,” I said with a cheeky grin. He looked over at me and gave me a worried look, genuine panic on his face.

“So… how do you feel about me being 56?” he asked, his voice cautious. My heart began to pound in my chest, almost making me forget about the pain in my arm.

“I don’t have any feelings about it,” I told him sincerely. His face softened, his eyes crinkingly as he smiled.

We filled out the rest of my admission paper, and then we got down to the ‘emergency contact’ section.

“Who would you like me to put?” he asked, tapping at the section with the pen.

“Oh, um, honestly I’m not sure. I could put Harlow because she’s across the street, I could always text her-”

“I’ll just put me, it’s no big deal,” he said. He filled out the information needed and under ‘relationship to patient’ he wrote down ‘friend.’

“Aww, I’m your friend?” I jabbed. He shook his head with a smirk.

“I’m going to go take this to the front desk. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he joked, giving me a playful wink as he got up.

Getting my shoulder put back into place was one of the most painful things I had ever had happen to me. I gripped Joel’s arm so tightly that I left nail marks on his skin. The doctor put my arm into a sling, telling me that I needed to keep it on for at least three days, icing it off and on. The gash on my head got five stitches and a large bandage over it.

I only got bits and pieces of the information he was giving me. The pain meds they had given me had fully kicked in by that point. I was thankful that Joel was being attentive and taking note of everything.

After a few hours I was discharged with a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds. I was going to bring up to Joel that I was going to ask Harlow if I could stay with her while I was in my sling, but Joel beat me.

“I know we don’t know each other super well, but would you want to stay at my place while you were in your sling? At least tonight while you’re hopped up on pain meds,” he said with a smirk, “I only offer because Harlow will just be at work all day and not be able to help you.”

My chest began to rise and fall quickly, my heart pounding now in my chest even while drugged. Through my medicated fog I looked over at him in the truck and smiled a dopey grin at him.

“That would be lovely, Joel,” I slurred, “you’re so nice to me. And handsome.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked.

I nodded, my eyes closing without my consent.

“You’re what they call a silver fox.”

He chuckled. “Well, thank you, Violet.”

I started to doze off before I could respond again, leaving Joel sitting with the knowledge that I found him attractive.

Before I completely fell asleep, I heard Joel say softly, “And I think that you’re beautiful.”

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc #no outbreak au #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #tlou hbo

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