#i'm clawing at everything to keep from screaming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emeraldborealis · 2 days

Text

Comfort

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, mention of nightmares, established relationship, soft Simon, no use of y/n.

Words: 1,593

You woke with a start, a clawing tingling sensation building under your skin, a spike in your breathing. Your heart racing like a derby horse, let loose with a jolt of adrenaline. Refusing to slow until falling or passing an imaginary finish line. There would never be an end to this.

It was dark in the room, fear and panic growing even after the nightmare had ended, the memory of what it was about was quickly fading, the fear was not.

It had all felt so real, so vivid, the touches and pain still felt like they were there, you could almost feel them searing under your skin. Wanting to burst out, become something real, something that could hurt you more than just in your mind.

"You alright, love?" The soft voice of Simon beside you helped calm your racing heart, taking a deep breath you sighed, realizing you'd woken him up with your nightmare, turning to face him you found him already looking at you, his face hard to make out in the dark, but his eyes were on you.

"I'm alright." Your voice was a little weak when you spoke. Reaching out to him in your nearly blacked out room, his familiar shape was visible to you only by the soft moonglow from a crack in the curtains. He was here, you were alright. You'd be alright. Simon was here. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

When your hand connected with the worn fabric of his sleep shirt he pulled you closer, holding you comfortably to him. "Another nightmare?" Gently he cradled your head in his hand, bringing it to rest under his chin, you felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

You'll be okay. You'll be alright.

"Yeah." Closing your eyes you pressed further into him, breathing him in, drinking down his natural scent, it was soothing. Simon was a man you could trust, one who would never hurt you. He was a man who would part oceans of people for you, a man who would scare away the fear constantly bubbling inside of you without complaint. "How'd you know?"

"The shift in your breathin' woke me up." Gently his fingers started massaging into the nape of your neck, keeping you close and comfortable. He was an enigma to you, someone so hurt yet still so gentle. Not with everyone, but with you he was.

"You sleep that light?" You knew he was a light sleeper, but you didn't know it was to that extreme. A pebble of guilt began to build inside of you. He must never sleep when he sleeps with you.

"Unfortunately." His hand traveled down your neck, trailing up and down your spine, his fingers pressing firm enough to feel the notches of each vertebra as he went. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I don't remember most of it, just the general feeling it gave me. It was a bad one." You moved more into him, you wanted to cry, wanted to scream. You were so sick and tired of these nightmares, never ending, never relenting. There was something fundamentally wrong with you, there must be, for rest to be more tiring than not sleeping at all.

You hadn't been through what Simon's been through, haven't seen the same brand of hell he has. You didn't have the right to complain to him, not when he's objectively been through worse. You weren't loved right, you saw things, went through things, but those weren't comparable to him.

"That's alright." He brought you ever closer, letting you move on top of him. If you could fall and sink into him you would in a heartbeat. Settle inside his bones, let them be a protective cage, keep everything else away from you. "So long as you don't want to talk about it because you think my nightmares are worse or some shite like that."

He's chastised you more times than you can count about not wanting to talk to him about your problems, told you just because things could be worse doesn't mean they're not hard.

"No, well, yes yours are probably worse. But I really don't remember this one, still wouldn't want to talk about it if I did. I just like to try and forget them." Laying your head over his heart you let his steady heartbeat stabilize you, gravity taking the few tears from your eyes and making them fall onto the fabric of his shirt.

Your hand laid on the other side of his chest, fingers rubbing small circles, your pointer and thumb pinching his shirt. You hated this, hated when you'd wake him up with your nightmares, hated having them at all. Simon needed someone better than you, someone who wasn't damaged, someone who wasn't just as scared as he was to go to sleep at night.

"I understand." Simon laid his hand over yours on his chest, holding it gently. "Just because the water could be deeper doesn't mean you can't be drownin' where you are. Trauma isn't a competition, I know you've been made to feel it is your whole life because people want to silence you. But talk to me, I'm 'ere for you, darlin'."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard, I'm trying." Turning your head you rested your chin on him, looking up at his face, his beautiful face. The first time you saw it you couldn't even speak, it was the face of the man you love. There was nothing else you needed to say about it. There was nothing else anyone needed to say about it. If people didn't see it for the beauty you did, then that was their loss. "They just- never stop."

"I know. I know. I understand." The pad of his thumb gently swiped under your eye, a frown coming to his face when he felt it was wet with tears.

Scooting up his body you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. "Don't frown, they're just dreams. Hurts for a while, but I'll be alright, you're here. I'm okay. I'm okay." You repeated it just as much for yourself as him.

"I wish you could sleep peacefully through the night, I wish you didn't have bags under your eyes from exhaustion. I wish I could keep the nightmares at bay. I wish you wouldn't have to understand this pain like I do." His hands moved to rest on your back, rubbing up and down.

"Life is pain, isn't it? Everyday we can go through hell, and we just keep living, just keep going. Isn't that persistence what life is? What makes us human?" Gently you moved your fingers over his face, trailing the bridge of his nose and shape of his eyebrows. "My dreams are not something that are allowed to define me, that hell is not going to be who I am. But I'd be alright if when all was said and done I was known for loving you."

"Known for lovin' me? It is a 'eavy task." Simon chuckled, kissing your nose.

"That's not what I was saying and you know it." Pushing on his chest you sat up, half straddling him. "And it's not a 'task', loving you comes as naturally as breathing, so don't give me that crock of shit."

"Alright, I stand corrected." His hand moved to rest comfortably on your hip, softly squeezing it. "I'd like to be known for lovin' you, above all else. I'd like for my time spent with you to be the thing my life is associated with."

"It's a 'heavy task'." You mocked his words, mimicking his voice in an obnoxious manner.

"Alright enough of that." Sitting up Simon wrapped his arms around you, falling backwards he pulled you back down to lay with him, ignoring your noise of surprise he kept a tight hold on you, preventing you from being able to move. "You're perfect." The playfulness was gone, replaced with a soft tenderness.

"But I wish I was flawless, I wish I knew what it was like to live a life without this burden. I wish I could just be like everyone else. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't know what's causing these dreams. I just want them to go away." Your voice wavered as a lump formed in your throat, a burning coal. Sniffing you tried to hold back your emotions.

"We'll get you to the point you can sleep through the night without bad dreams soon, I promise. I'll find a way to turn those restless dreams into somethin' peaceful. Soon you'll feel fine, no more eyebags, no more nightmares." It wasn't something he could guarantee, but the conviction in his voice silenced all of the doubts in your mind.

"You make things better, when I wake up to you I remember I'm alright. I don't know what I'd do without you." Taking a deep breath you relaxed yourself, settling yourself so you can start trying to go back to sleep.

"I'll always be 'ere, love. Get some rest. I'm 'ere." The feeling of him kissing your temple furthered you into calming down. Closing your eyes you nuzzled into him.

"Let's have something good for breakfast, but you make it, and you clean it up, and I just partake." You mumbled sleepily into him.

"Fuckin' 'ell you're a twerp. We'll see." His comfort was all surrounding, holding you safely, it kept you warm and calm. He was all you needed, all you wanted. Waking up to him would always be the reason for you to fall asleep again.

90 notes · View notes

civilight-eterna · 1 day

Note

Hiii requesting horndragora, having an angry and steamy encounter in a Londonium alleyway

(cw: dubious consent, toxic yuri, enemies with benefits)

---

The order of "pin down the caster" was probably not meant to be taken so literally.

Horn had routed around Mandragora's cadre, covered by the debris that fell in the explosion, and at first contact, she'd managed to get behind her, far at the back lines of the fight.

A hand over her mouth and a chokehold later, and she's dragging the kicking feline into the back alley, unseen in the chaos.

"I'm not going to kill you. Just take a cat-nap until my squad passes over and I won't have to tear your head from your shoulders."

Mandragora's legs go weak faster than she expects them to and she staggers to kneel with her as she collapses to the ground, her knees splayed to either side of Horn's thigh.

They struggle for a few more seconds, in the interim of which, Horn realizes-

Mandragora is absolutely soaking between her legs.

It wouldn't be the first time someone has pissed themselves with fear while fighting with Horn, but that's precisely why she can tell that this isn't that. She's shocked, but not enough to loosen her grip.

"Are you-" Horn flexes her arm, tries to keep focused, but she can't seem to spit out the second half of her question-

-seriously about to cum from being strangled?

It's so beyond anything she could have fathomed that her arm slips in her distraction, and Mandragora throws her head back into her nose the next instant in a way that tells her she didn't even need to say it aloud. Heat trickles fast down both nostrils and through her bitten lip as the caster reverses her position, closes her hands around Horn's throat.

"Fuck, you-" She's coughing the words out. One of her eyes is red with broken blood vessels. Her hands aren't even that tight, or holding her in the right place to do the worst kind of damage. She's probably never been in a physical fight in her life where she had even glimpsed the 'winning' side. "Fuck you, you corn-fed Victorian cunt, it wasn't enough to try killing me? You wanted, to humiliate me too?"

Horn puts all her force into her legs, walking them inside Mandragora's guard to pound her feet hard into her chest. The feline goes flying through a brittle glass storefront, and when she chases her inside, she finds her scrambling to her feet, clutching a bleeding arm. A wall of rocks erupts behind Horn, sealing the door, the window, everything.

"Still want to blow us up, toy soldier?"

Horn growls, wordless fury building in her chest. Her team is on the other side, bleeding, enduring, and she can't clear it without burying them both.

"No, but maybe I'll use that hard head of yours as a battering ram if you keep talking." She wipes blood from her lip and flicks it across the floor.

A surge of energy bursts out of Mandragora and the rocks grow to triple their size, closing in the storefront, leaving about half the room to stand in. Horn staggers in the resulting quake and closes the distance between her and Mandragora, pouncing on her. A wolf on a kill.

Pin down the caster.

"You really want to die so badly?" Horn can't keep the sudden strain out of her voice.

"Don't you dare act like it's unbelievable or something! You don't get to pity me now-you're about a decade overdue! As if you have no idea how I've lived!" She's wiggling her wrists under Horn's grip, twisting from side to side in futile struggle.

"Oh, I've an idea," Horn breathes out, "'Mandragora'. Something that is ripped, screaming and crying, from the dirt. Did you choose that yourself? Or was it a 'gift'-" Her glare is molten, haloed in the curtain of wheat-colored hair obscuring them, "-from that beloved Leader of yours?"

Mandragora roars, thrashing and kicking, her fingers curling downwards and grasping, desperate to scratch.

"I'd do it again-I'd claw myself out from under as many bodies it takes to make you Victorians bleed even another drop-!"

Horn suddenly realizes how she's going to get them out of this.

It's unpleasant. It's nothing she would ever consider in any other circumstance.

She knows it'll work so she knows she's going to do it.

But it is all kinds of wrong.

"Alright, little feline-" Horn grimaces, and pushes her knee between Mandragora's legs, eliciting a scandalized gasp, "-bury us here, then. And when historians come to uncover us, maybe ten years from now, maybe one hundred years from now, they'll find Dublinn's caster and the 'White Wolf of Victoria'-"

She readjusts her arms, one around Mandragora's waist, the other raised to press a palm to her cheek in the most saccharine and overtly romantic display of affection she can imagine as she presses her forehead to hers.

"-locked together as star-crossed lovers that deserted their battlefield to die in one another's arms."

"You bitc-mmph-!"

Horn kisses her, hard, leans into her with her full weight, pulls at her slight waist and runs her fingers through her hair like she's never loved anyone else in her life.

Mandragora's nails destroy her back. She's screaming against her mouth, biting at her lips, but Horn readjusts for every inch of purchase she makes.

"Fucking Victorians-!" Mandragora howls, as Horn shifts her mouth over her throat, smothers it with bruising kisses, "-Faking's all you're good for-!"

"What about you?" Horn breathes into her ear, "Were you faking it when you nearly came from being choked out? Or are you that much of a pervert in general? Could it have been anyone but me behind you?" Horn strokes her hair out of her eyes, and Mandragora grabs her wrist so hard her nails are drawing blood.

"I don't know, I think you just love me that much that you would die in my arms."

There's something wrong with the kiss that follows. Tears prick the corners of Mandragora's eyes as she tries to force Horn back, but she's no match for her physical force. They're both exhausted.

The kissing becomes ever-so-slightly less performative on Horn's part. Mandragora's lips part just a touch wider, and even though Horn has been avoiding it, she finds her tongue sliding deep into her mouth.

"Hh...Hhah, fuck-" Mandragora whimpers, trembling with the urge to resist using her arts, overshoot her power. Horn's knee rubs slowly between her legs and she swears louder before she's silenced with an even deeper kiss.

"Mmhm." Horn exhales hard and gasps as Mandragora's cold hands slide under her tank, drag it up just over her breasts. This wasn't in the plan, she thinks distantly to herself.

"Victorian pig-" Mandragora spits, "-I bet you're, hah-used to sweating like an animal-on a leash with some crystal-studded plug up your ass, some noble's concubine because they pay big money to fuck their soldiers-"

Disgusting. Horn should be disgusted.

There should be no other emotions present at the revelation of such a filthy fantasy that her enemy has fashioned for her.

"You think about me a lot at night, don't you? All alone with your preoccupying hatred. Hope it keeps you warm, little feline."

"I was born from a grave. I've never been warm in my life."

"Then may my love for you sow warmth anew that entwines us together for the ages. I'll save you. You'll never be cold again under my embrace-"

"SHUT UP!"

The entire store quakes, the roof blowing off into the sky, the rocks vibrating so violently they become dust and powder overhead. Everything comes crumbling down.

On instinct, Horn throws her arms over Mandragora's head, ducks and covers until it's over.

They stare at one another. A voice from afar breaks the reverie.

"Aye! Captain?!"

They're both rolling away from each other, running opposite directions. Mandragora stops at the other side of the store, hand on the doorframe.

"-This never fucking happened, toy soldier."

"-Agreed."

(It's not the first lie they've told.)

#arknights #horn (arknights)#mandragora (arknights)#requests #my writing #foetp: impale you with my rock #dubious consent #toxic yuri #enemies with benefits #manipulation #these two really are the toxic yuri of all time #slowly working through requests #thank you for your patience!#horndragora

21 notes · View notes

ilovemesomevincentprice · 10 months

Text

Vincent Price introduces The Fly (1958)

718 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 2 months

Text

What Goes Down in the Forest

Pairing: Male Forest!Monster x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, predator/prey dynamic, fear play, biting, size difference, creampie, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, rough sex, brat taming

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: It's raining right now so that puts me in a monster loving mood.

It was you who suggested this little game to him. The forest was his domain, he knew it like the back of his hand, moved through it seamlessly, with out any issue. And then there was you, you who kept tripping on logs, getting caught on crunches, slipping on the dirt all the while looking behind you to make sure you put enough distance between you and the tall monster chasing you.

To make sure you didn't get too lost he marked the trees you passed by every now and then. You didn't have to be scared of getting lost and even if you did you could rest assured he would bring you back home safe and sound.

"What are you so afraid of then?" The voice came from somewhere behind you. "Is is just adrenaline pumping through your veins that's making your heart beat so fast?" You heard him chuckle, "You don't smell very afraid to me. Horny little human, getting your kicks from something like this. I knew I chose right."

The trees and the wind carried and obscured his voice, still making it impossible to know how close he was. This forest, you learned, worked how he wanted it to.

Everything in here was his. Including you.

You stepped back without looking, your foot catching on the thick tree roots. You yelped, expecting a hard hit. Instead you felt strong arms wrap around you, shielding you from impact. "Are you alright?" His voice calmed you, as deep as it was.

You meet his eyes, deep green in a sea of stormy gray, filled with worry. In his forest you were under his protecting, just like everything else. "Pet, are you hurt anywhere?"

"Ah, no. I'm alright. Thank you for saving me. That... that was lame." You ducked away from his gaze only for one big, clawed hand to cup your cheek. His lips, and upper fangs, pressed against your lips, soothing your worried, "Did I ruin the mood?"

"Does it seem like you did? Look." He gazed down to his cock, still very hard between his legs, aching to be inside you. "I want you, clumsiness and all." He assured you in-between kisses. "Can you run for me again? Put up a fight for me? Or shall I take you as you are? You smell more then ready enough." His hands grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up, his nose pressing against your pants and breathing in the horny scent between your legs.

As much as you wanted to give in right now he just asked you to run for him. So you will run, you will fight and you will get him to rut into you until you can't walk.

You pushed on his slightly curved, dark green horns, feeling the intertwined branches and leaves under your fingers. They wrapped around his horns and his head like a crown, almost giving him an air of royalty, or a god. Truth be told you still don't know if he's either of those. All you knew was that he was the protector of this place.

Gripping his horns tight you wrestled his head away which elicited a deep groan from him. He snarled at you when you kicked him away and started running again, in any direction your legs carried you in.

Before you knew it you were out of breath again. Panting you leaned against a tree. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" The tree had claw marks on it! How the hell did you get turned around?! Was this a trick? He did say he liked to toy with his prey.

Or he somehow ran ahead of you and marked this tree before you got to it. Which meant you needed to run back. Unless that's what he wanted you to think! He was playing mindgames with you, and you weren't in the mood. The blood was not going to your brain at this time.

Two strong hands gripped you from behind the tree, one on your mouth, muffling your screams, the other around your hip, keeping you pinned. "Kicking me in the face? Brave human." His voice was now next to your ear. It was then that you realized that the voice and the arms wasn't coming from behind the tree but from inside it. A male body pushed itself from the bark, stepping next to you but your hands and mouth were still pinned, still closed.

He could do that?

As he looked at you in that helpless state he smirked, his pointy teeth catching your eye, "I'll have you know I've killed people for far less." He tilted his head as he bent closer, his eyes roaming across your body. "Lucky for you, I value the pleasure you provide."

"Do you? Because I haven't gotten any in a while. What would you do if I ended our contract?" You smiled at him, watching his cock stir in protest. "Who would fuck you then? You'd have to wait for some other poor human to get lost in here. But if you can make me feel good now, I might reconsider." The truth was you could do this, if you were an asshole or didn't love your boyfriend. But this was part of your game, you egged him on, wanting to see how he would react.

"And you think I would allow you to walk out of my life just like that after I made you mine? Everything in this forest is mine from the moment it steps foot in. That includes you, my pretty human cocktoy." His hand lazily stroked his cock as he approached you. "I decide if you leave here walking, or carried in my arms, with my cock still inside you. And since you don't seem to understand that I will have to remind your cunt who truly owns it."

His nails turned into sharp black claws and tore through your pants. The cold air hit you immediately. You watched as the green of his eyes eclipsed almost all of the gray.

"Wet and ready. Just how I want you." He growled as he grabbed your leg and pushed it up, revealing your dripping pussy to him. "There it is. My prize."

Rough hands held both your legs open as his cock pushed inside with single smooth stroke. His own pre-cum made it easier then ever before, you could already feel his seed coating your inner walls. "I love how you split me open with your cock." You had to get used to the size, the thickness, the slight structure of it that dragged and stimulated your pussy with every thrust.

His horns grew at your praise, hips pushing closer until they were flush against your own. "I love how well you take me. As if you were made only for me. My cock. My seed. My offspring. Yes... I should... maybe if I put a damn bastard child in your womb you'll see how much you love me."

Your back arched and pussy squeezed around him immediately. You didn't have to say you wanted it now, your body was doing it all for you. "Are you sure it's possible?"

"I will make it possible." He snarled. He pulled back until only the tip remained and then slammed in at full force. Again. And again. And again. "My seed will take." The truth was you were pretty sure it was quite difficult between you two. If you could have gotten pregnant easily you would already be pregnant. He hated condoms. "I'll make you swell with it."

As his pace increased the forest echoed with your moans, the wet pussy squelches, skin slapping against skin, the sound of wood being broken and healed. You pulled against the rough bark around your wrists, aching to get closer to your lover.

His claws dug into your meaty thighs, marking you once again.

It wasn't enough for him. No mark was ever enough for him. As soon as one healed he put a new one in his place. "Tell me you accept it, human. Tell me how much your womb wants my seed." He pushed in all the way, letting you feel his cock pulsing inside you, then pulled out, in and out, deep and long strokes that made your breath hitch. "Tell me!"

The booming voice made your body flinch and your cunt spasm around him. "Fuck! Don't stop now, keep fucking my pussy! It feels good, I-" You whimpered, taking in a quick breath.

He wasn't calming down, wasn't letting your orgasm end, pistoning in and out of you and clenching his teeth to hold his own orgasm back until you told him you wanted it.

"I want you to put a baby in me. Fuck me. Breed me full of your cum. Make sure every human, animal and demon knows it was you who got me pregnant, that it's your kid I'm carrying." The forest itself shook and awoke with his deep, guttural roar. "Right in there, right in my pussy, fuck it all in."

"Not a drop will go to waste." He promised as his hips came to a stop against yours, his arms finding the small of your back as your legs wrapped around his broad hips, feeling the soft fur starting at his hips and running down his legs. It was soft and sticky with cum. It should have been gross, but you loved how it was evidence of your love making. Simultaneously the bark around your aching, bruised wrists dissolved, which allowed you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your hands into the long black hair that run to his shoulders. "You know I love you. I truly do wish to have a family."

"Maybe it'll work this time. If not we can always keep trying." His forehead pressed against yours, "Hey, even if we can't I won't think less of you. You're the love of my life. And it's not like you see couples like us in nature a lot."

"Nature is supposed to bend to my will. At least in here." His nose brushed against yours, "Let me carry you home."

"Okay. But don't pull out yet. I'm comfy." He chuckled at your cuddly nature. He shared it, so he couldn't blame you. When he walked with you he left new flowers everywhere his foot stepped.

#monster romance #monster x reader #monster love #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x female reader #monster x girl #monster fucker #terato #monster lover #monster lust

3K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 5 months

Text

König is so mean treating you like a toy when he fucks you. Pulling your legs up to his shoulders, your ankles by his ears as he crowds his fat cock into you. He cages you in with strong arms, squeezing your thighs together between his biceps to make you just that much tighter as his hands cup to back of your neck and curl you towards him. He forces you to look him in the eye as he fucks you, tips your head further to watch him bulge out your stomach with his thick cock.

"Look at that," he breathes, "stupid little toy, only good for taking my cock, ja?" You whine, the feeling of his dick stretching you out is already too much but the position lets him force his length so much deeper. He hits something overwhelming and electric in the pit of your stomach, and he keeps hitting it. Over and over, dragging your body down against his thrusts until you can't get a breath in to scream. The pleasure sticks in your chest, compounding as you try to arch your back, try to wiggle away, try to claw at his thick biceps for something to hold onto. Your stomach is tight, tight, tight, as his cock punches that deep spot, so good it hurts. Tears bead at the edges of your vision as you choke on a sob. You can feel yourself gushing around his dick, slick dripping off of you and onto the floor next to his desk. Someone will have to clean that up, with any luck he'll force your head down to do it yourself. Always a caring colonel.

"So wet meine liebe," he chuckles, leaning close to watch your face contort with pleasure, there's something almost pitying in his gaze, patronizing, "taking everything I give you. Not a thought in that silly head of yours. You like being a toy liebchen?"

"Yes," you whine, gasping and moaning as his cock drives into you.

"Yes?" He coos, his voice cold and patronizing. He fucks your approval out of you, your 'yes' mixing with pleas and screams as you claw at his skin for some release on the pressure building inside of you. Something snaps suddenly, some valve breaks and you gush around him, squirting against his stomach and clenching tight around his cock. He groans, a breathless chuckle dripping from his lips as your slick smears your thighs. "There it is," he grins, switching his grip to hold you by the throat, pinning you to his desk, "pretty baby, my stupid pretty baby."

You scratch at his wrist as he pound into you, the angle just slightly kinder. The friction of his cock in and out of your poor abused cunt only builds heat in your stomach again. You can't do more than moan as König's hips slap against your ass, his pace growing faster as he chases his own high. His words turn to growls and grunts, until he snaps his hips tight against yours and groans low, his hot cum spilling inside you. You whine, feel his grip change to rub his thumb against your cheek before patting it, affectionate but rough enough to keep you in the scene.

He clicks his tongue, "What a mess you've made liebchen, I thought I trained you better than that."

"I'm sorry colonel," you hum, your legs shaking and your hips aching when he lets them drop to the floor.

"You're sorry?" His thumb rubs against your lips, fingers firm under your chin as he pulls you to sit up, "Then you'd better apologize properly."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #oc: fetch #könig x oc #f!reader #x f!reader #female reader #demon!darlings au

2K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 13 days

Text

it took the end of the world to bring you to where you were supposed to be. (18+, 5.5k words) ghost (+ johnny) x fem!reader (apocalypse au -> dark content ahead)

you know it is luck that you are still alive. in times of anarchy, it isn't the soft and weak hearts that remain. only the unfeeling stay alive. the ones that are willing to do what others are not. the lot that know what isolation feels like. the ones familiar with survival and everything that comes with the wounds it leaves behind.

the loneliness. the paranoia. the heat of hunger and the impossible itch of thirst, on top of the fact that running for your life is second nature to you now.

if it wasn't the sick and dead lurking in the shadows, it was the live ones that would take you. and you have seen what they can do, and you have watched what the opportunities of the unbecoming have given them, and you vow that you will kill yourself with your own dull army knife than let yourself succumb to that kind of death.

you'd rather be eaten alive by the things that don't understand than the ones that do, because they don't know any better, and the others do, and they know what they are doing isn't human, but they don't care.

whether they eat for survival, for pleasure, for power, it is becoming more and more difficult to discern between the sick and the healthy, and in that in-between, you've decided to be on your own.

you know the loneliness will eat at you from the inside. but you are comforted by the fact that you are not being eaten from the outside.

you sleep in the trees tonight. you climb, high enough to be out of sight, and then you use the rope in your pack to anchor yourself to the trunk. as soon as your head falls back, you fall asleep. you have been walking for days now, you think, and with nothing in your belly except for a few scavenged snacks, sleep comes easy.

when you wake up in the morning, you feel the crisp edge of the sky against your face, and you know it will rain soon.

if there is a god above, they will wash you away with it. you hope, at least. you don't know if this is how you imagined noah's ark--the cleansing of the earth, a flood great enough to wipe it of what they deem ugly and unimaginable and irredeemable. and god must be a man, because only a man would unleash something like this that comes with consequences he never intended--the fact that it didn't fucking work. in his effort to eradicate the fucked up pieces of shit he supposedly created by his own hand, he unleashed them.

he set them free.

and like a man, instead of fixing his fucking mistakes, he turns a blind eye. he forgets. he allows it to manifest, and now that it is out of control, he will blame the sins of what he's done on someone else, someone like you. the innocent. the unknowing. the small and the weak, the ones who he said would inherit the earth, where is he now that there is nothing to inherit? how come he's allowed to go back on his promises, and i'm not? what have i done so wrong that this is the lifetime you gave me?

you don't know why you care. you don't know why you've survived and why you keep trying to. you don't know what drives you forward, but there must be something. there has to be something waiting for you, because you don't think your life can fall any lower than this.

but fuck, there are other plans for you.

there's no one to hear you scream. they cut the branch, unravel the rope, and one of them has gotten ahold of your legs, and they're dragging you. you cry, you scream, you thrash, but all your clawing hands do is leave sporadic trails in the dirt. they laugh, you think, but you cannot hear them over the blood that rushes in your ears.

your nails are raw when they flip you over onto your back. they bleed from how you scratched to be let go, and you don't know why you fight this, but you just have this voice inside you that screams that this can't be how this ends. this can't be the way you go--this isn't the what you deserve, this isn't fair--

you vow to leave your mark. when they come closer, you don't let them come easy. you claw at their faces, rip out chunks of their hair, and when another comes close, you use your teeth, biting off chunks of their flesh, tasting blood, because i won't make it easy for you, i won't go silently, i'll leave you worse than you leave me, i'll take you with me if i fucking have to.

and when it stops, you sob. suddenly everything is still, and there are no hands on you anymore, and all you can see through the blood in your eyes is the sky above you, and how it is early morning, and there's a flock of birds passing by overhead. they fly peacefully. they have no idea what they're observing--the struggle of being alive, the humanity of your will to live, the defiance of dying at their hands, they have no idea that they are witnessing the death and rebirth of something fragile, something so delicate.

you sit up on your hands shakily, and you swallow hard as you look around. to your horror, your savior is a man.

bodies surround you. there's blood staining the dead leaves along the forest ground, trickling from sickening wounds in heads. in one hand, the man in front of you holds a dirty stone, large and jagged, and the sharp edge of it is darkened with red and drips on the tips of his boots. he has wild blue eyes, and while his hair is grown out, it is carefully cut along the sides. his dark hair falls in effortless curls along his forehead and at the base of his neck, and when he meets your eyes, he smiles, wickedly.

he wields other methods of killing people, but he chose a fucking rock. and you think he must be crazy.

you shake, and you find your balance, crawling back on your hands to get away from him, but you're only able to crawl a few feet before your back hits an imposing wall.

you gasp, jerking to the side, and you bow your head to cry when there is another man behind you. this one towers, broad and big, and he wears a sickening skull mask that shadows any human part of him. he might not even be human--maybe he's as dead as everyone else.

you hiss when your hair is pulled. crouching at your level now, the one that wears a real face stares down at you, still smiling. he's chuckling now, licking his lips, and you lean forward and spit at him. it lands on his cheek, a mess of saliva and blood, but his eyes seem to only sparkle. his smile widens.

"what do we have 'ere, LT?" he snickers, and you gather the saliva in your mouth and spit it at his feet this time. there's more of a mess of cartilage and blood and spit, but instead of disgusting him, he just grins up at the ghost behind you. "with a will ta live. ever seen anythin' like it?"

"she's dead fuckin' weight." even his voice has you shaking, low and gravelly, and you hold back a whine when you're let go of. the scottish one is yanked backwards by the scruff of his hair by his superior, who bends to growl in his ear. "she'll only hold us back. dunno why y'even had to intervene, she'll not make another fuckin' day."

"fuck you," you snap, wiping at your face with a trembling hand. you wipe at the tears under your eyes, coughing, and you stare back up at him. with the sun in his face, you can see his eyes. they are dark, and they are unforgiving.

he is one of the ones who is free. he is one of the ones that god intended to kill, and yet here he stands, stronger than ever. and even though you know he's a murderer, an undeserving, broken inside and scarred on the outside, he'll outlive you because he thrives in the anarchy of what is left behind, and you are consumed by it all.

"let's go, johnny," he spits, and you close your eyes. you don't know why you were spared your life. you don't know why luck has been on your side, you don't know why men are what punish you and save you, but you cannot escape them. they send you to slaughter, and then they pick you out of the pen, and you wish you had more control.

you want to be more than this. you want to be more than whatever it is you're made of. you are not meant to be here, you're not meant to be alive, but you are, and fuck, you're so tired of it.

johnny belongs to him. it's obvious, in the way that he lets that man pull on him and order him around, even if they are adorned in military fatigues. you imagine there is no authority anymore, but he listens to that beast anyway, because he's getting up onto his feet, letting it guide him away from you.

if you want to live, you'll have to tame that beast.

"i-i can be useful," you say softly. your eyes are wet and big, and you look up at them as they stand over you. johnny turns his head, looking at his handler, who tilts his head to the side and glares at you. he does not believe you, at least that's what it feels like, but you look right into his eyes and take a deep breath. "you'll just kill me if i'm not. w-what do you have to lose?"

the hum he lets out isn't an agreement, but he doesn't say no either. so when he turns to walk away, you stand, brush your bloodied jeans off, and you follow them. johnny trails, putting you between them. you're pretty, but he doesn't trust you yet, but you're also aware of the eyes you feel on you from behind. when you catch him staring at your ass, he doesn't pretend to look anywhere. he simply giggles.

they are a unit. they can speak without words. johnny tells you his handler's name is ghost. his lieutenant, a man of many talents, and you refrain from rolling your eyes at his sergeant's praise. but instead, you look up at him, and you smile, and you nod, and you give him those doe eyes that you can tell make him a little dizzy.

at night, they alternate keeping watch. they carry lots of gear, and while one guards in his sleep, the other stands in the shadows and keeps their head on a swivel. they take efficient rounds of sleep, getting their rest in while keeping their senses on alert. the first night, you aren't able to sleep. you are too afraid of johnny and how he smiles, because he's a dog, and you don't know when ghost will let go of his leash.

and you are too afraid of ghost, because he looks at you like he wants to kill you, and when he does, you'd like to look him in the eyes for it. you want him to know that you might not be strong like them, might not be the kind of survivors that they are, but you aren't a coward.

you aren't a man, and you'll die the way a woman should--with her fucking dignity.

the days pass easier. ghost hunts, and johnny cleans. ghost scavenges, and johnny kills. and when there is food, johnny feeds it to you, and you put on your best face, opening your mouth, letting him spoon you a mouthful of something that warms your belly. johnny eats your lies right up, but one look at ghost, and you know he sees right through you. with each lick of your finger, he snarls, and with each foot you step closer to johnny, he growls.

he doesn't believe you. you need to make him believe you.

you see your opportunity. it crawls towards him on soft hands, flesh spongy and quiet from the weeks of decay and rot. you see its mouth, black teeth sharp and ready to sink into the meat of his calf, and you lunge, pushing the vase off the table and watching the heavy clay fall until it squishes the head into a heap of rotten matter and dead meat.

ghost turns, looks down, and when he looks back up, he sees you gasping for breath, heaving. there's a desperation in your eyes. it trickles between panic and worry, and you don't know how it is you wear it so well, but it manifests into wet tears that gather at the corner of your eyes.

he's not a beast. he's just a man. and when he passes by you, he reaches up and grips your face hard, nearly shaking you, but it isn't like any other time he's touched you. he glares down at you, right into your eyes, and you melt, stepping just that much closer, sinking your nails into fabric of his tactical vest and gripping it tight.

i can be useful. it rings in his ears as he looks down at you, the burden he has been carrying with him, and suddenly he drags you that much closer, until your open mouth touches the front of his mask.

even your determined conscience can't stop your legs from squeezing together when you feel the warmth of his breath.

i can be useful. i can be useful. i can be useful.

you can be the thing that wakes what is dead inside of him. you can be the virus that infects his veins, the dagger straight through his heart, the heat of the sun, the thing that builds back up what he's buried so far down. johnny keeps him human, but you'll keep his blood pumping. johnny satisfies the itch of authority that ghost needs to keep, but you challenge the fire he keeps under his tongue, and fuck, those eyes.

you pretend with johnny. you play the damsel in distress. you fawn, let him coo over your soft eyes, keen at his touch, but it is a game you play, and he sees it, he sees it, but this time, it doesn't make him angry, and he likes it, and fuck, have you always been this pretty?

you swallow your smile. his grips tightens, and you know you have him.

he's yours. and he's going to keep you. the world ends, god doesn't answer your prayers, the salt of the earth runs free, but it doesn't have to be the end for you. you will learn the hymn of what makes monsters move, and you will sing that song until you can't sing anymore.

you will learn their language, and you will convince them of what you are not, and keep what you really are a secret.

the good, the easy, the soft, you'll keep it inside, because that isn't who lives at the end of the world--it's ghosts that remain, and this one belongs to you.

this one belongs to me, this one is mine, this one you can't fucking have.

and maybe it's selfish. maybe it's wrong to think this way, to take from your saviors this way, because that is what they did, they did save you, but this is the only way you can make sure you make it out of here, that you live. a man takes, and a woman gives, but wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't always this way?

because the dead are still moving now, and there isn't humanity in the living; this is what you are owed.

you think it will be difficult to pretend. when it is night again, and you are staring up at the blue of johnny's eyes, you think it will be difficult, but it isn't. despite what you know he doesn't have, even though you know there isn't anything good in him, he still smiles, and he's so pretty, and you let him kiss you.

it's easy because he's warm. his voice low, his breaths heavy, and it feels like love, and it isn't hard to imagine yourself somewhere else. in another place, meeting him in another time, falling in love with him because it is the only thing you really have to worry about. if you lived another life, you wonder if you still end up here.

you wonder if he would eat your cunt this way in that other place. like he'll never have it again. if he's just as aggressive, spreading your thighs, trapping himself between them, slurping at your folds until you are nothing but a wet, leaking mess underneath him. you wonder if he would groan the way he does, gripping you tight enough to bruise, taking his fill because everything that begins has to end, but maybe if i keep making her see fucking stars, she'll let me stay here forever--

johnny's so much easier to control when he's pussy drunk. anything you whisper in his ear, he just nods, licking into your mouth, mumbling incoherently. he'll say yes to anything you say, and when the gruff call of his name pulls him away from you, he struggles to leave. it isn't obvious, the power you have over him, not to him at least. but it's real, and because he watches you even as he goes, you know he'll do anything for you.

he'll do anything for me. he'll live for me. he'll kill for me. but will he do it even if ghost tells him not to?

because that is the only question that matters. if you and ghost stand on either side of him, who will he go to when his name is called?

if i call both of their names, will they come to me?

if he calls my name, will i come to him? am i just the same? do i wear the collar, am i the puppy, is it me that fell and not the men i hate so much? how do i tell the difference between what the fuck is real and what isn't?

you don't know what time it is. it's dark outside, it must be the middle of the night, but you can make out ghost's silhouette in the doorway. you've been holed up here for some days, and he takes turns with johnny covering the perimeter. your legs are tired, and so are they, and the bed in this house gives way to a comfort and peace that you haven't felt in a long time.

you tilt your head to the side as you watch him there. you sit up, your hair falling around you, and you watch the shadow of him shift in the hallway there.

"scared of the dark, ghost?" you ask softly, and the way he stills tells you he didn't realize you could see him. he steps into the room, and the candle that flickers in the corner deepens the shadows that dance along his masked face.

"nothin' scares me," he murmurs, and you find his eyes in the dark. it unnerves you every time you stare at one another--his gaze is always so intense. he always looks in between all the layers you hide, and it's hard to remember what you are doing here when he looks at you this way.

"i don't believe that," you counter, and he narrows his eyes, shuffling closer, and you tilt your head back to look up at him. "you're terrified."

"not of wot y'think," he pushes back, but you shake your head.

"don't lie, simon," you whisper, and at the sound of his name, he reaches for your face--cups the underside of your jaw, grips the base of your throat, bends down to growl against the skin of your cheek. "are you jealous? is that what it is?"

"of wot?" he mutters, and you hold your breath when he grips your neck firmly. "of m'pet 'n his little lamb?"

"yes."

"nothin' to be fuckin' jealous of," he laughs, but it holds no humor. "what's his is mine."

"says who?" you breathe, and he pulls back to look at you again. there it is--the thing in your eyes that he cannot escape. he doesn't know what it is, but there is something there, and he craves it. he wants it more than anything else--more than food, than water, than survival, he wants to have it, to own it, to command whatever it is there because it's what he thinks he deserves.

he saved your fucking life, and this is the price for it--he gets to have the thing that lives in you that makes his fucking head spin, and you will give it to him, so help him god.

you kiss soft. he hasn't taken his mask off in a long while, but you move it up easily and without resistance, and now you're kissing him, and he moves without thinking. he hasn't even let johnny this close--he hasn't let him underneath his skin, not this way, and here you are, sighing against the scars he wears and kissing them anyways.

the ugly and the irredeemable, that is the skin he wears, and you love it anyways, and the ringing he always hears is gone because you don't seem to care. you caress his face, and you tug on the front of his vest, and then he is with you, and--he doesn't know if this is real.

when you pull away to look at him, his eyes flutter open. you don't say anything as you climb into his lap. the look you share, you don't know how to explain it, but you are almost afraid that it is understanding.

because it's the end of the fucking world, and he isn't capable of love, and you are only here to survive, and yet there is something here that you can't explain. god isn't real, he's just a man, but you think for a moment that that man might be simon riley because what the fuck is happening to me?

"simon--"

he kisses you this time. hungry, all-consuming. if there is anything you've learned about him in the weeks you've spent beside him, it's that he does everything with purpose or not at all. he has a will, a will of what you don't know, but of something, and he does everything with his entire chest. you've heard him talk to johnny when they think you're asleep, the pillow talk that you aren't supposed to be privy to, and suddenly you wonder if this is what johnny feels like--like the only person left in the entire world. because to matter to someone like lieutenant simon riley means you must've done something right, because he doesn't care about anything, and he doesn't love anyone, and--fuck.

he fucks like it, too. he fucks like he won't live another day, and maybe he won't. he fucks like it's the last time he'll ever see you, and it could be, and maybe that's why you're crying. you're sweaty, naked under him, and he can't stop kissing you. he breathes you in and swallows your breaths like it's what keeps him alive, and maybe it does.

"simon--" you cry, because it feels good, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. your hand rises, slipping under the mask, and your nails scratch over his shaved head underneath. god, it feels sacrilegious to feel him this way, to know what's under it, but it doesn't matter.

"know wot y'r doin'," he hums, and you claw at his back when he slows down. your knees try to widen to accommodate the width of him, and he puts two big hands on your thighs and pushes, nestling himself deep and pressing himself right up against your pelvis. "know y'r playin' tricks on johnny, on me--" you cry, and he tsks, shaking his head, "'s pathetic, luv...thinkin' y'could fool us both."

"i-i--"

a particularly rough thrust shuts you up, and you arch your back, pebbled nipples hard against the warmth of his chest as he chuckles, laughing at you, so mean.

he leans down, and all you can do is whine as he mutters into your ear. "johnny's so fuckin' distracted by y'r cunny, swee'eart. and fuck, i get it, 's such a sweet pussy, luv--" you whimper, grinding up against him, needing him to move, but he puts both hands on your hips and squeezes, holding you still. "--such a nice cunt, make a bloke forget all his fuckin' troubles, but i know--"

you yelp when he reaches up and grabs your face. his palm cradles the lower half of your face, squeezing your jaw, and he squeezes your cheeks as he looks down at you and snarls.

"i know wot y'are. wot y'r here for."

"you--" you sob. "'m here for you--"

"can lie to johnny all y'like, luv, but don't you ever--" you whine as he shakes you gently, "--don't y'ever fuckin' lie to me. y'r usin' us. known since we found ya."

you let out an exhale, a deep one. you find his eyes, and he looks down at you, and you swallow hard. because it's true, in a lot of ways--you could never love them, right? this could never be a real thing. the only men that are left are god's mistakes. when man broke off his rib to make a woman, he didn't know a beast like this would come from him someday, did he?

did he know his sons would try to kill each other? in each and every generation? is he watching the dead roam the earth and wondering why those ones died and ones like this one are still living and breathing?

the thing that you don't understand yet is that nothing will kill ghost. his father couldn't kill him, the dark couldn't kill him, the earth he was buried in couldn't kill him, and every bullet that scarred him had missed the vulnerable places of him by just that much. the virus couldn't kill him, and he has an inkling that even if he was bitten, somehow, he would still live because that's his fucking fate.

his fate is to live, to endure, to grieve, no matter what happens around him. the world collapses, and he watches, and he picks up pieces as he goes hoping they will last, but he knows they won't.

he doesn't know how johnny will die, but he will. he doesn't know how you will die, but you will, and he'll be there to watch. for some reason, there's a little comfort, because at least this means they won't be alone. johnny wouldn't handle being alone well, and neither would you, because johnny is a mutt, and you are a leech, and neither survive without a keeper and a host, something else to keep them alive.

"'s olright," he licks over your bottom lip. "'m keepin' you, luv. but let's get one thing straight, aye?" you grunt when he turns you roughly under him, forcing your face into the mattress and caging you underneath him. you can't move much, all you really can do is sit up on your knees a little and push back against him, burying him deep inside you again as he presses his hips flush against your ass. he tangles his hand into your hair, pulling your head back, and he plants a chaste kiss against your throat. "y'r not above me, pet. you can order around m'mutt all y'like. bet he'll like that..." you hum when he cants your hips, the tip of his cock hitting a nice, warm place inside you, "but y'r gonna do as i say. and be a good girl."

you open your eyes, looking up at him over your shoulder. you plant your palms against the mattress and push back against him again, moving just enough to encourage a few slow, wet grinds.

"anything you want, simon," you whisper, pressing your face into his neck, and he grunts as his hand disappears underneath you to cup your mound, hissing as he feels the place where his cock is moving inside you. "can have whatever you want, please--" you whine in his ear. "i won't lie to you! i-i...i won't lie..."

with his other hand, he cups your breast, squeezing, his thumb circling your nipple before he tugs on it gently.

"gonna be a good girl?" he asks. "gonna let johnny fuck ya? let my mutt have his fill?"

you nod, panting.

"are--" you sniffle. "--are you gonna take care of me?"

ghost laughs, as if it's a stupid question. he maneuvers you onto your knees, and as you start to push back against him more eagerly, you start to hear the jangle of the dog tags he wears. you want to turn around and pull on them, want to see his face when he comes, but you tell yourself that's for another time--that right now, you need to get him cumming and agreeable.

he leans over you, picking up the pace, punching his hips into your ass. the sound of your skin against his is wet and quick, and as you press your chest into the mattress, he starts hitting you so deep, the air feels tight in your chest.

"need to see you--!" you gasp, and when you're on your back again, you grab for his face. your knees spread again, welcoming him deep, and you force his eyes to stay on yours as you feel the rough grind of his hips starting to build up that sweet, soft feeling in you.

fuck--he's so big. every part of him, it swallows you, and this isn't any different. you come when you feel him, so much of it that it's leaking down your thighs because he stuffs you so full, and there's tears in your eyes, but he isn't sorry.

looking at him this way is jarring. you have really only ever seen his eyes incredibly dull, nothing in them except a void that you aren't able to understand. but you are using him, and he is using you, and you smile, because now you can read him, read what's reflected there.

when ghost shoves his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth, you don't fight it. you keen, arching your back as you let your tongue swirl around his thick fingers, and he tilts his head to the side as he watches you. he's making sure you're doing as he wants. he's making sure that you will be pliant and good, that you will do as you are told and nothing else because that is what he asks of you.

he's making sure that even though he knows you are not the submissive puppy you pretend to be, that you will be it anyways because if you don't, you won't like how he bites.

you and ghost are the same. you are equals, even if he will never admit it. you trade different parts of yourself, but this isn't about preservation, it's about survival, and you are willing to give yourself for it. you are willing to say yes, ghost, of course, whatever you want, because you aren't supposed to be alive anyways, but you might just have a chance if you hide in his shadow.

you're still on the bed when he dresses himself. he straps his vest back on, zips his pants, and you watch him lick his fingers clean before putting his gloves back on. you reach down, your mouth falling open when a glob of his cum slips out and dampens the sheets, and ghost has a hint of a smirk on before he rolls the mask back down.

"don' worry, luv," he mutters, reaching over and gripping your jaw rough. you pucker your lips, and he snickers. "soap'll fix you right up."

"soap?"

"mmm. the fuckin' thing is useless unless there's a mess to clean up, yeah?"

will you take care of me? will he take care of me when it's time? will he keep the dead out of my eyes and my blood inside?

he never answers your question. and deep down, you're certain it's because he would kill you, and maybe johnny would, too, because johnny does whatever he says, even if it isn't good for him. and you aren't sure if it's because this is his lieutenant or because saying yes is the only thing that make's sense anymore.

i can be useful. i can be useful. i can be useful.

when you are not useful anymore, you'll need to be the first to strike then. because maybe you don't deserve to live, but neither do they. god is a man, and he makes mistakes, and ghost is one of them, and he's eaten johnny's soul, and if you go down, you will take them with you.

god is a man, and he was a fool to think he could've cleansed the earth by himself.

it was the flood that cleansed it the first time, and mother nature always does her fucking job.

496 notes · View notes

earlgreydream · 19 days

Text

gods, I’m so sorry. this has been in my drafts since APRIL 2023…. I’m finally getting to it, thanks so much for this sweet request ♥️

requested: bucky needing to have a hand on you (stroking ur hair, hand on ur knee, etc) at all times after he nearly loses u 🥺 to reassure u that ure safe and he's there but mostly to reassure himself

The silence was deafening, and it was so dark. Had it always been this way? James couldn’t remember. The Brooklyn apartment didn’t feel like a home anymore. It was empty without you, your absence ripping the essence of life from his home.

He sighed, not bothering to turn on the light. James didn’t have any intention to stay, the emptiness held an eerie feeling that he just couldn’t shake. He almost forgot what he’d gone home for — to get a change of clothes before heading back to the Tower, to wait for you.

James felt like he should have been out looking. You’d been missing for weeks — disappearing on a mission with Sam, to gather intel. There wasn’t supposed to be any real danger, he would never have let you go if he was worried about a threat to your safety.

“We need to go back, they found her,” Steve’s voice cut through the silence, and Bucky’s heart seized at his words.

“Is she alive?”

The first thing your mind registered was pain. There was a dull, heavy throbbing in every part of your body. When you tried to open your eyes, everything was too bright, and a terrible beeping worsened your splitting headache.

You blinked away the fog in your vision, a hospital room slowly coming into focus. James stood up from a chair in the corner and ran to your side, speaking frantically. You couldn’t understand him, it sounded like his voice was underwater, unclear and garbled.

Panic surged through your chest when you looked down to see an IV in your arm, and you registered the tubes on your face that were meant to help you breathe. You clawed at the IV in your arm, nails scratching your skin as you attempted to rip the needle out.

“Stop, please, baby,” James begged, grabbing your wrist to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself.

“James?” You rasped, the fear in your voice breaking his heart.

“I’m here. You’re safe, you’re in the hospital at Stark Tower. Nothing can hurt you anymore,” he promised, the words sounding clearer in your head this time.

Your chest heaved and tears started to leak down your cheeks, whimpering as a nurse emptied a sedative into your system.

James held your hand, so the nurse didn’t cuff your wrists to the bed. Your memory was foggy, but your body remembered what you’d been through — your heart rate monitor beginning to scream as the nurse talked about restraining you.

“Get out. Just get out!” James shouted, one of the few times you’d ever seen him with tears running down his face.

You began to fade as the sedative kicked in, the room quieting once it was just you and James. He listened to your shallow breathing, gently rubbing his thumb across your forearm, needing to touch you as he sat next to the bed. He had to have his hands on you, to remind himself you were there, safe.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged softly, your trembling hand laying over his.

“I won’t leave you, I promise… just get some rest, okay?” He kissed your knuckles, gazing at you with wet blue eyes.

“I can stay with her, so you can go home, change, sleep in your own bed?” Steve offered, coming in while you were asleep.

“I'm not leaving,” James murmured, barely looking up at his best friend.

“Has she told you anything about what happened?” Steve took a seat on the other side of your bed, an action that James was grateful for, even if he didn’t say so.

“No. She’s barely coherent, they’ve got her on some pretty intense medication…. Steve, she’s in rough shape. How was she when you found her?”

James was afraid to ask, but had to know. Steve shifted his weight, looking down at the floor before finally looking back at your sleeping form, bruised and battered.

"Bad, James. Hydra had her tied up, suspended from the ceiling."

James rubbed his fingers over the raw, red rings around your wrists from the restraints, stopping as you winced in your sleep.

You opened your eyes, looking over at him, reaching out to trail your fingertips over the scruff on his cheek.

"Steve, thank you," you spoke hoarsely, turning to the blond who stood at the end of the hospital bed.

"Of course. How are you feeling?" he approached and gently took your outstretched hand.

"Everything hurts," you groaned, shaking as you tried to sit up.

"Here," James helped you, supporting your weight as you settled into a seated position.

Two weeks later, you'd recovered enough to be discharged.

"I don't want to stay at the tower, I want to go home," you insisted to James, anxious to be back in the shared Brooklyn apartment.

You held his hand as he drove you to the brownstone, flinching at car horns and loud noises. As much as you ached to be home, the trauma still exhausted your nervous system, and kept James on edge.

Your friends had been kind enough to clean your place for you, warm and smelling of the dinner that was in the oven, waiting for you and James. He followed you to the kitchen, smiling softly as you eagerly dug into the first real food you’d got since your return.

Despite have the whole table to yourself, you sat on Bucky’s knee as you ate, his arm around your waist. He was quieter than usual, his face pressed into your shoulder, needing to be as close as possible. He was unable to let you go, afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Later that night, Bucky sat on the edge of the tub, helping rinse your hair. He had all but gotten in the water with you, his sleeves rolled up as he tenderly washed your skin. Candles flickered on the counters, dimly lighting the fragrant room.

“I’m okay,” you whispered to James, your hand going to his jaw as he kissed you. His lips were soft against yours, parting just enough to catch your small gasp. You chased his mouth when he pulled away, only briefly satisfied as he planted another firm kiss to your lips. He stood to get you a towel, wrapping you up as you rose from the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” he urged, unable to hide his anxiety.

“You won’t sleep,” you accused, knowing he’d be up all night, just as he had for days.

“We can put on a movie. I just need to hold you,” his big eyes were framed by dark lashes, eyes that were impossible to say no to.

You slipped into one of his tee shirts before following him, letting yourself snuggle against his side, his arms tightly wrapping around your middle. The rhythm of his heartbeat and soft sounds of the television lulled you to sleep, resting safely in his embrace.

#Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky imagine

382 notes · View notes

theroyalyandere · 9 months

Note

About the yan!fisherman. What about a cute little siren darling that’s too colorful and loud for their own good, only to get ensnared by a angry deep sea fisherman captain. Who only promises to let them go if he can have a wish in return. (Old mermaid tales say mermaids could grant wishes to those who save them or return their hair comb) And darlings like, I wouldn’t need saving if you’d let me go. I’m not granting you a wish just because you threaten me. ( like pirates of the Caribbean, they’re hard to crack) so the fisherman captain keeps his darling on his ship in a converted tank and kills off the rest of the crew. Eventually wearing away the mermaid darlings resolve till they say yes. And the captain had been thinking about wishing the mermaid to be human but knows those tales never end well. Either his prize runs back to the sea, or one of them dies before the other due to a shortened mortal life. Which doesn’t appeal because he hates land and wants to be out at sea which he can’t if he’s constantly making sure they don’t leave him. And he wants to be with them for eternity, regardless of darling’s wishes.

So he kills two birds with one stone and wishes “for my heart’s desire”. Only the wish is twisted by his obsession, unbeknownst to darling. But they still grant it because they believe his one true desire is greed like most humans… which they’re not wrong. So he becomes a huge terrifying shark merman, or maybe a cecalia, or giant sea snake naga.

And now you’ve got a sea monster that hates humans and his shiny little siren that he can make scream and sing others to their death.

… or what about a reverse harem of deep sea fishermen turned into sea monsters to protect their little darling by one tainted wish. Darling grants the captain’s wish and it “condemns” the small boat like Davy Jones. So now mermaid darling has more to outswim.

oh my god??? I can't describe how genius you are anon! mermaid darling and her yan!fisherman turned into sea monster?!!! I'm going to combine both of the ideas and make a sea monster harem instead becauseeeeeeeeee 😮‍💨🤭 I only know a little about pirates of the Caribbean so please forgive me with the inaccuracies and I'm sorry if this is pretty short, I can continue this and turn this into a series if you like!

note: mermaid!darling is referred to as she/her please don't read if you don't feel comfortable thank you!

Warnings: yandere, dark content, gore/body horror, kidnapping, prey/hunter dynamics, death threats, manipulation

yan!sea monster harem x mermaid!darling/reader

As a mermaid, you've heard from your sisters that some of those like you were captured from those above.

You did not exactly expect to be captured by one of them, especially them.

You blame your colorful tail for attracting too much attention, you managed to throw everyone who went after you so far and your sisters think you're truly lucky but this time you ran out of luck.

Not only are you aware of the bounty set upon your head, you are also believed to be the most powerful of all mermaids which they aren't wrong about. However you have not granted any humans a wish yet. As you believe them to be the most vile of beings.

They are too brutish and rude and cruel. You did not like them one bit.

As soon as you got caught into their net you did not hesitate to flail around as an attempt to set yourself free. You snarled at everyone showing your viscious at the pesky humans.

Your sharp claws tear out through the net and smack everything with your tail. Unfortunately you got stopped by the captain.

His tall, menacing frame looming over you like a boulder with a grumpy face. He shows no reaction at your defensive state and it only scares you more than the other way around.

He corners you and kneels down to your level, he gave you an offer.

The captain will only let you go once you grant a wish of his however in your fury you instead jumped into him and pinned him down, snarling as you try to choke him.

His crew surrounds you each with a weapon in their hand, threatening to kill you unless you let go.

You kept being defiant until one of them got to restrain you setting your victim free.

The poor crew mate groans as he tries to not let you go.

The captain ordered for you to be hidden in the ship until they figure out how to break you.

So you get hidden in a cabin into a tank filled with water allowing you to live above the sea.

As long as they keep you, you refuse to agree to their conditions. Their offers being returned with a glare or an attack from you.

Until, one of the younger crew got closer to you. Watching and observing how you interact with the young one.

They all secretly watch as you the young crew mate won you over with their smiles and gentle demeanor, granting them the opportunity to see another side of yourself.

Your heart begins to soften and sing a song for the youngster.

The other crew told this to the captain and watched with his own eyes the scene unfolding. He urges the crew mate to get closer to you.

One by one they start to get obsessed with you. The crew either fight on who's turn to give you some food to eat or they wrestle among each other who gets to hear you sing to them first.

It only got worse when the captain got involved, one night he caught himself listening to your melodies and felt something he had never experienced before.

He eventually chased for this feeling and he knew that only you can satisfy him and his dark desires.

So his desire further strayed away from what he wanted and darker as his desires were focused on you.

At one point his impatience got into him and barged into the cabin you're at and threatens to kill the crew mate you grew fond of, your eyes pool with pearls and panic present on your face as you try to grab onto him.

He tells you that he will certainly finish the crew mate if you don't agree immediately, he asks you to grant his wish and you ask him what it is. He replies..

"for my heart's desire"

You assume it has something to do with wealth and power but oh you were wrong.

You watch as the captain slowly morphs into a sea monster. The scene is so grotesque that you tried to shield yourself away from the scene.

Outside the cabin, the whole crew starts to fall ill and scream in pain as their bodies start to turn different. Their skin turning into scales or being covered by corals and such.

Even the young crew mate you adored was not spared from the awful transformation. As the wish manifests into reality so does a storm, overturning the ship upside down as an enormous wave swallows the ship whole.

The ship gets wrecked and you try to escape into the ocean and swim away only to get caught by a powerful force wrapped around you and you turn to face it.

Only a horrifying sight greets you as the crew were turned into predatory monsters that will sure haunt all over the seas.

The one keeping you captive is the captain, he became an enormous sea monster that towers over you. With long tentacles and his eyes glowing with evil.

His tentacles engulf your whole being as you struggle to get out of his hold, blocking you away from the rest of the world.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #fem reader #fem!reader #female reader #yandere sea monster #yan!sea monster #yan!fisherman #yandere fisherman #mermaid reader #mermaid darling

966 notes · View notes

mangowafflesss · 9 months

Note

just recently discovered your blog!! glad i did 🫶 your stuff is amazing

i was wondering if you could write how the 141 + könig + alejandro would react to the reader having a nightmare? 😔😔

aweee thank you and welcome to my blog <3 (Idk if you wanted it to be romantic or platonic so I just did a mixture of both if that's okay!)

Price

You laid on the sofa of the house you were both inside waiting for it to be safe for you both to venture outdoors. You were sleeping while Price was keeping watch at the front door, looking through the window as if he went outside he might've frozen to death. You wriggled on the worn out cushions and Price looked over to see if you were waking up - you weren't so he looked away - you let out a scream and he was stood over you in a second. He yelled out your name to get you to wake and when you did he felt a rush of relief come over him, but when he saw the panicked look on your face he helped you to sit up while he sat next to you. Calming you down from your impending panic attack he brought you to his chest and cupped the back of your head as you sobbed quietly to him about your nightmare.

Soap

Your body was curled up inside of a sleeping bag which you were sharing with none other than Soap McTavish. He was warm and you instantly fell asleep until hours later you were clawing at Soap arms that were wrapped around your stomach. You were panting trying to get air into your lungs and Soap was so worried while he unzipped the bag. The cool air hit you and it was helping a small amount, hands gently held your face and your blurry eyes saw Soaps face frowning. He asked if you needed him to do anything for you and all you did was push yourself on top of him as he rubbed his large palms up and down your back. He hummed a small song under his breath and you soon enough fell back asleep attached to the Scots body.

Gaz

You punched him repeatedly in the chest saying incoherent things to him which made him very confused. In his sleepy state he nudged you awake and when you did, your arm came down to hit him in the face. He managed to miss it and grab your wrist instead and held it close to his heart. "Oh Kyle, I'm... so... sorry" you cried and he left the room to grab you a drink and something to blow your nose with. When he returned he saw you sitting there with you knees to your chest trembling. He placed the things down on the nightstand and got back into bed next to you. You wrapped yourself around him not wanting him to leave you. He places a kiss to your head while trying to get your mind off what your nightmare was about.

Ghost

He has always had trouble sleeping and the only time he does is when he's curled up next to you, with you safe close to his chest. You started to mumble and shake in his hold which woke him up - due to him also being a light sleeper - he looked down at you and then saw the wet trail of tears on your cheeks. He recognised it immediately that you were having a nightmare and decided to wake you up gently. When you woke and saw you were in your bed safe and next to your boyfriend you broke down into tears and collapsed into his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he whispered into your ear. "I'm here, shhh its okay now you're safe with me"

Alejandro

Sweat was dripping down your face along with tears from the ultimately terrifying nightmare that you were currently apart of. Alejandro sensed something wrong in his sleep and his body woke himself up to see you fighting yourself in your sleep. Eyes wide and scared you may hurt yourself he called out to you and tried to grab onto your currently strong arms. You woke up and he smiled at you softly to try and get you used to your surroundings. Your body was hot and Alejandro could tell, wordlessly you let him carry you from the bed and into the bathroom where he placed you into the tub and turn on the cold shower. "Everything will me okay Mi Amor, none of it was real"

König

He watched your body twitch and he scooted closer to where you were laying on the bed, he was asleep on the floor next to you until you woke him up with your constant moving. He didn't know if you just did this in your sleep or not and debated whether to wake you or not. When he heard you let out a strangled cry he shook you awake trying to not spook you out anymore. When you opened your eyes and saw his mask you cowered away thinking about the mask in your nightmare. He spoke softly to you and when he saw you were still scared he looked around at the others in the room and hesitantly took off his hood and your wild eyes softened when you realise it was just him. Grabbing his hand you pulled him to his feet and gestured for him to lie next to you, smiling at his clumsy size you felt better knowing that he could protect you. "Go to sleep, I'll protect you" he whispered while stroking the back of your neck with his thumb.

#captain john price x reader #price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #konig x reader #call of duty

659 notes · View notes

ilovemesomevincentprice · 1 year

Text

Vincent Price as Nicholas Van Ryn - Dragonwyck (1944)

325 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Batting Practice Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You get a little bit of time alone with Bradley, and now you want him even more. When he asks you about Frank, you realize you need to tie up some loose ends.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Everett was beyond excited for his first tee ball game, and he insisted on wearing his jersey to school on Friday. He wanted to wear it to bed on Friday night as well, but you made him change into pajamas.

"What time does my game start?" he asked for the millionth time.

"Sweetie, I already told you. Tomorrow morning at 10:30. And that's why you need to get in bed and get a lot of rest."

After six bedtime stories and a cup of water, he was finally dozing off to sleep, and you were about to check your work email.

But when you looked at your phone, you saw a few texts from your sister and a text from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I'm probably allowed to spend a little extra time with the Team Mom. Maybe you'll keep your Kitten claws tucked away and let me buy you something from the snack bar after the game?

"Oh my god," you whispered as you sat on the edge of your bed. You lay back and literally kicked your feet up in the air as you wrote back to him.

I'll keep my kitten claws away if you buy me an Icee and a soft pretzel.

Then you sat up and gasped before running downstairs to the kitchen. Everett's tee ball schedule was hanging on the refrigerator where you and he could both see it. You took it down, sending a magnet flying in the process. You were right; Monday's practice was dress up day. The kids were supposed to come to practice in costumes, and there was a note encouraging the parents to dress up as well.

With a squeak, you found the magnet and hung the calendar again before running back upstairs to your room.

Bradley Bradshaw: Sounds perfect. And maybe you can fill me in more about what else Kittens like to eat and drink. For future reference.

You buried your face in your pillow to keep from screaming too loud. You felt like you were seventeen again and about to get asked to prom by Kyle Jenkins. Except this was even better.

You sent back a cat emoji before you opened your Amazon app and searched for what you needed for Monday.

You found a cat ear headband and a cat tail to make an adult cat costume. Then you dug around in your closet for something to pair them with. You had black jeans, but couldn't find a suitable top. After a few minutes of searching, you added a black bodysuit to the shopping cart along with some washable face paint. Before you could second guess yourself, you charged everything to your credit card with next day shipping, and started to get ready for bed.

You needed to be well rested for Everett's game. And for the snack bar.

----------------------

Bradley took a quick shower while his coffee brewed. The bathroom was right next to the kitchen and living room, and his bedroom was the only other room. His apartment was kind of small, and he kind of hated it.

Last night, he had spent hours thinking about bringing you back here, but it was so boring and bare, it made it look like he had no personality. Then he started thinking about what your place might look like. Then he started thinking about what your bed might look like. Then he was just imagining you in a nondescript bed with him, and he started touching himself.

He wasn't really surprised. You were such a treat to look at, and he was more attracted to you than he had been to the last dozen women he had hooked up with combined. There was just something about you. The combination of wholesome mom vibes were mixing with the way you responded to him when he called you Kitten. It was a lot for his brain to process how sexy he found those two things when put together.

For a brief moment he thought about masturbating again in the shower, but he didn't have enough time to indulge in that like he really wanted to.

He quickly toweled off and finished getting ready. He sipped his coffee and scrolled through his text messages with you, being extra careful not to spill anything on his white baseball pants.

God, you were so flirtatious. That little kitten emoji threw him last night.

He rubbed a hand across his mouth and mustache and grabbed his gear for the game. He'd never make it through the day if he didn't try to stop thinking about you.

He arrived at the field early and started setting things up with Bob, but he kept glancing around, looking for you. And if Bradley thought you looked good when you came to practice directly from work, that was nothing compared to how you looked today.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as you made your way across the assigned field with Everett in his blue jersey. Your jeans were tight, and you had them paired with a Padres shirt and cap.

When you looked over at him, you smiled and mouthed, "Hi, coach."

Bradley handed the cones he was holding to Bob and headed directly for you.

"Hey, we still need to mark off the outfield!" Bob called after him, but Bradley didn't pause until he was next to you.

"Kitten," he whispered as you took Everett's cleats out of his bag.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley made sure you could tell he was checking you out.

"Coach," you whispered back just as Everett launched off the bleachers.

"Coach Bradley! Are we playing against the orange team?" he asked, pointing to the kids in the opposing uniforms.

"We sure are. Those are the Tiny Hawks. Much less intimidating than a Tiny Eagle," Bradley said, adjusting his cap. "You ready to play? We're going to need our top power hitter if we have a chance at winning."

"Yeah!" Everett yelled.

"Start warming up for the game," Bradley said, patting him on the shoulder as he ran toward Bob. Then he turned toward you and smirked. You were chewing on your bottom lip as you looked up at him like you were about to kiss him. "You look cute, Kitten. And on that note, I'm going to go cool down for the game."

Your laughter followed him as he went to meet with the referee. When the game started, he could hear you cheering loudly for Everett, your voice reaching his ears over everyone else's.

-----------------------

The game was honestly pretty exciting for a bunch of first graders hitting a ball off a vertical stick. Everett had two hits and even made it to third base during one inning. And whenever there was downtime in the game, you still got to look at Bradley in those tight, white pants.

The moms behind you started whispering, and you were trying not to laugh.

"I'll bet Coach Bradley could bench press me. His biceps look like fire hydrants."

"Tara, he's got to have a girlfriend. There's no way something that meaty is still on the market."

Then Everett hit the ball so hard, another player on his team scored a run. "Go Everett! Run!" you shouted, jumping out of your seat and cheering.

Bradley turned around and smiled at you as Everett won the game for his team. You waited for the kids to shake hands with each other, and then Everett gave Bradley another high five before running to you.

"Mommy!" he shouted as you caught him in your arms. "I'm a power hitter! Just like Coach Bradley said!"

"You really are! You were amazing!"

Then he wriggled out of your arms and said, "Can I play on the swings with the other kids?"

There was a good view of the swings from the snack bar, and now Bradley was heading your way with his gear bag slung over his shoulder and some dirt on his white pants.

"Yeah, Ev. Just stay on the playground."

Bradley stopped in front of you. "I have a little team business I'd like to discuss with you, Team Mom. Would you join me on a bench near the snack bar?"

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh. "Sure, Coach Bradley." So you turned and walked next to him for the first time; Everett was usually tucked in the middle when he walked you both to your car. Bradley was so tall when he was right next to you that you had to tilt your head up to talk to him. The other moms were right. He was definitely something to look at.

"Congrats on your perfect winning record, Coach," you told him, earning a deep laugh that made your lips part as you sucked in a breath.

"Thanks, but I guess I should really be thanking Ev. He won us the game."

You just smiled and glanced at your son as he played. "He's doing so well. I can't believe it."

Bradley just shrugged as he led you up to the window to order some snacks. "He's talented, and he's fast. Does...his dad practice with him?"

You glanced up at him and shook your head. "No. Danny barely sees him at all."

A crease appeared on Bradley's brow and he immediately looked kind of angry. "Why not? He's not local?"

You snorted as you gave him a pitying look. "He lives in Mission Beach. He's just not interested."

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked, earning a glare from the woman who was trying to take your order at the snack bar.

You just nudged his arm as you ordered your soft pretzel and cherry Icee. He ordered himself a soft pretzel and a lemonade and paid before you could get to your wallet.

"I already told you, it's my treat," he said, grabbing both drinks while you grabbed the pretzels. "Now I need you to explain to me how Everett's dad lives in San Diego but never spends time with him. I don't understand."

You just shrugged and sat down on a bench in the shade. "It's just one of the many reasons Danny and I are divorced. He never showed much interest in Ev, even when he was a baby."

Bradley settled in next to you and handed you the Icee. "I mean... babies are kind of scary. But Everett is fucking great."

You just looked at him, his pretty brown eyes flashing with anger and annoyance.

"Yeah, Ev is the best. We're better off without Danny."

Bradley took one of the soft pretzels from you and ate half of it in one bite and chewed it up.

"Does that mean you're single, Kitten?" he asked without hesitation. "Been wanting to know."

You grinned at him as your phone vibrated in your pocket. "You've been wanting to know?" You ignored a text from Frank and set your phone down on the bench between your thigh and Bradley's.

"Come on, Kitten. Just tell me. You're playing with me like I'm a ball of yarn."

Your grin gew as you nibbled on your pretzel and tried to figure out what to tell him. Essentially Frank was nothing. Inconsequential. In fact, he was really irritating you at the moment as another text came through after you'd already told him you were busy this weekend.

"Well," you started. But now Frank was calling you. As you tried to ignore the call, Bradley looked at the screen.

"Who's Frank?" he asked, looking up at your face with a forced neutral expression. "Someone you're dating?"

"No," you replied, scrunching up your nose.

"So you're single?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because you've got some salt on your lip," he whispered, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. Without giving it a second thought, you licked the salt from the pad of his thumb. Bradley froze with his eyes wide, staring at your mouth. "Jesus, Kitten."

Your face had the decency to grow warm as he leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "Next time I'll kiss it away."

You let out a tiny squeak as your phone started ringing again.

"Damn it, Frank," Bradley growled as he scooped up your phone and answered it. "This is Kitten's phone. How can I help you?"

"Bradley!" you gasped, lunging for the phone as he switched ears. You watched him sip his lemonade as he looked at you, keeping the phone firmly out of your reach.

"Yeah, I hear you, Frank. But she's at a tee ball game right now. Want me to relay a message?"

"Give it back," you scolded him, reaching for it again.

Bradley shook his head, but you just climbed across his lap to get your phone, your chest pressed against his. But now he was holding your phone out in his massive hand with his arm extended, and smiling a few inches from your lips.

"Bradley!" you said with an exasperated laugh. "You're terrible!"

"And you're wonderful," he replied as you anchored one hand around his neck and reached for the phone. You planted your right knee between his thighs and reached, but he finally relented by handing the phone to you.

"Frank?" you asked a bit breathlessly when you had the phone to your ear. You were touching Bradley in the weirdest assortment of places, but neither of his hands were on you. You wished they were.

"Frank, I'll see you on Monday," you said, paying no attention to what he was saying before ending the call.

"Who's Frank?" Bradley asked again, his breath ghosting across your cheek as you eased yourself off of his lap. But his hand came up to your waist to hold you in place and your eyes met his.

"A guy from work. Who doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"What the hell does that mean?" Bradley's voice was tight.

"Oh, just that I told him I'm busy this weekend, but he's still bugging me." You swallowed hard. You were going to need to completely end things with Frank. Soon. Because as you eased your knee over Bradley's thigh, you had to fight the urge to kiss him. You never craved kisses from Frank. "But maybe he'll leave me alone now that you answered my phone."

You were sitting on your knees on the bench facing Bradley when he turned toward you and asked, "Do I need to worry about Frank?"

Your lips parted in a silent smile, and you laughed. His eyes looked a little hurt as they met yours.

"You don't need to worry about anyone, Coach."

His face eased into a soft smile. "Have you given any more thought to that Phillies game, Kitten? It's my treat if you and Ev want to go."

"That's not necessary," you insisted. But you wanted to go in the worst way.

But if you told Everett that this was even a possibility, he would ask about it nonstop for the next month. Letting Everett spend time with Bradley outside of tee ball was just asking for trouble. Spending time by yourself with Bradley outside of tee ball was probably just as bad.

"I know it's not necessary, but I'd still love to take both of you."

His eyes were so sincere. You had never been interested in a guy who you allowed to be around Everett before. But Bradley was in two categories: Everett's Coach and a guy you really liked. And it would be impossible to separate the two now.

"I want to say yes...."

"Then say yes," he replied. "And you should say yes when I ask you out on a date without Everett. And you should say yes when I ask you if I can practice tee ball with him since his dad sounds like such a tool."

You felt soft inside. "All of that sounds nice, Coach. And I do the best I can with helping him practice, but I don't know that much about baseball."

"I can teach you," Bradley said softly, stroking your knee through your jeans. "Over dinner? What do you like to eat, Kitten?"

"I'm not picky."

"What's your favorite?"

You kind of shrugged. "Cheap burgers and expensive champagne."

Bradley laughed. "I love that, too."

Then Everett came over and squeezed onto the bench in the small gap between your knees and Bradley's thigh. "I'm starving," he whined.

When you checked your phone, you were surprised to find it was a lot later than you thought. "Ready to head home for lunch?"

"Yes," he said, and just when you were about to remind him to thank his coach, Everett threw his arms around Bradley's neck.

"Thanks for making me such a good player."

You watched Bradley return his hug, something you couldn't ever remember Danny doing.

"I didn't do much, kiddo. You're a natural," Bradley told him with a smile.

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds good," Everett said, standing up and collecting his gear bag.

"Thanks for the snack," you whispered as Everett took your hand and started pulling you toward the parking lot.

"Bye, Kitten."

-----------------------------

Bradley watched you walk away, looking like a real treat in those jeans. The bench was suddenly too quiet and lonely without your attention for him to bask in. So he just sipped his lemonade and tried to figure out how to make you feel more comfortable.

Clearly you were hesitant to tell him who the hell Frank was. That was a potential problem. But Bradley had to smile at the memory of Frank sputtering in confusion when he answered your phone.

Frank was going to have to go.

You also needed some reassurance about Everett. Bradley genuinely liked your son, and he could picture himself tossing a ball around the park with him. If he wanted to play real ball in the fall, Everett was going to need to get better at fielding. He seemed to love baseball as much as Bradley did at that age. And honestly baseball was the one thing that really helped him deal with losing his dad.

It was funny how Everett reminded him so much of himself, but Bradley thought perhaps Everett had it worse than he did. Nick Bradshaw was just gone from Bradley's life by the time he was in first grade. Completely wiped away. No chance of ever seeing or talking to his dad again. But Everett's dad lived a scant five miles away from this bench and never spent any time with his kid.

"Fucked up," Bradley mumbled to himself. Especially since you and Everett's dad had been married. Who does that shit to their family, divorced or not? Bradley had to roll his shoulders to help himself calm down.

If it was okay with you, he would take Everett to the park one day. He thought they would both have fun.

As he finished his lemonade, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from you.

"Okay, Coach. Take us to the Phillies game. We both really want to go with you."

He smiled and opened the internet tab where he had been looking at tickets. He bought three seats in the outfield and took a screenshot of the receipt. Then he texted you the image along with a promise.

"I really want to go with both of you, too."

----------------------

Bye, Frank. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 5

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

alastorthisisthetea · 1 month

Note

A dark vision swirled in Dove's mind, making it impossible to keep calm. Constantine stood before her, clutching their child in his grasp. Dove was doing everything within her power to move, scream, claw her way out of her binds to save her daughter.

It was futile.

He stared at her blanky, turning on his heel as he carried a wailing Abigail away and into the darkness; Dove's pleads going on deaf ears.

She awoke with a gasp, her eyes blue as she had awoken from her slumber. Her hand immediately went to her growing belly, feeling Abigail flutter about. A muffled sob escaped her lips, the vision shaking her to the core...

Either the movement or the muffled sob woke Alastor up.

"I'm awake..." He said as he jolted up.

Blinking he took one look at Dove and instantly knew she had a nightmare. He quickly pulled her to him in a hug.

"...Shh, it's alright.."

313 notes · View notes

black-aurora-nora · 4 months

Text

Give In | Platonic!Yandere!Hawks x Teen!Reader

This had to be the worst day of your life.

You didn't think anything would top being kidnapped, but here you were sunken into the couch of your 'home' weighed down by your own dejection.

Your entire body was cold.

Wet, muddied clothes clung to your body and there was an obvious trail coming from the door to the couch.

Everything was numb.

Your fingertips, your toes, your mind.

The sound of the door opening paused your inner monologue.

"Man, that rain is no joke today! I'm soaked!" Hawks' voice came from the front door, but you didn't bother looking at him.

He strolled over to you after taking his shoes off, but again you paid him no mind. You couldn't bear the sight of him.

He stilled for a moment, looking you over while a frown overtook his features, "(Y/N), my sweet little sister, did you go outside?" His voice was so soft yet unbearably sarcastic. He knew the answer.

He hummed unhappily when he received no reply, "You're gonna get sick if you sit in those wet clothes any longer. I'll go draw you a bat-"

"Yeah, I hope I get so sick that I die." You spat. But even that held no real emotion behind it. You couldn't even bring yourself to be angry at him.

You'd been angry at first.

You'd spent so long trying to figure out an escape plan, only to find the door unlocked when you didn't find a key. Then you anxiously ran out into the rain, screaming for help and looking for any other houses or even streets.

For miles, you ran.

For miles, you hoped and prayed that today was the day you'd be free again.

But as if your prayers were nothing but a joke, you found a tall wall at the end of your journey and it suddenly made sense why the door was left unlocked.

The image of Keigo laughing at you was the first thing that flashed in your mind and you felt something snap in your psyche.

You grabbed at the muddied ground, throwing clumps of mud and grass into the wall as if it were mocking you. Curses of Keigo's name left your mouth with fiery breaths and when the clumps of mud weren't enough, you hit and clawed at the walls.

It hadn't mattered that your fingers were bleeding or that a few nails were gone.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing mattered except for Keigo.

"Okay, grumpy, you still have to take a bath."

You clenched your fists and took a deep breath, "Why didn't you tell me about the wall?"

Keigo stopped, turning back towards you. He had a cocky glint in his eyes, "Did you really think I was gonna let you go that easily? Or that someone wouldn’t find you and return you?”

"Why..." You trailed off, "Why did you let me think that I had a chance? I... I ran for miles... thinking I was free..."

A sound of pity left Keigo and you wished you could slap him, "(Y/N), you're a smart kid. I'm your older, smarter brother." You wanted to scoff at his ego, "Why wouldn't I or the Heroes' Commission plan ahead?"

Why wouldn't they plan ahead?

You felt so stupid.

Of course everything had been planned.

Your prior kidnapping from your home.

Your shipment to Japan.

And your 'rescue' accomplished by Hawks himself.

It was so obvious now that all of that had been an orchestrated to get you into Keigo's possession.

You were a business plan.

Something to keep Keigo occupied from losing his sanity.

"Y-... You're all sick... you're all fucking sick!" Your chest hurt and you clawed at your heart with mangled fingers.

"(Y/N), focus on your breathing for me." Keigo told you, ignoring your spiraling. When you couldn't calm down, he stalked towards you, "(Y/N), I said focus! Slow your breathing."

Violent sobs tore your throat.

Everything had been taken from you just so you could play house with some hero.

Keigo cooed softly and closed the gap between you to hold you close and slide you down to the floor, telling you to slow your breathing.

He uttered praises to you when you finally listened and slowly but surely, your breathing was dissolved into quiet sobs and sniffles.

He stroked the top of your head before grabbing one of your hands to look at your fingers. He gave a small sigh when noticed how bloodied and swollen they were. They were probably riddled with fractures and would surely bruise.

“Maybe,” he spoke, “If you’d let go…this whole thing would be easier.”

“I… I’m gonna go take a bath now…” Your voice was hoarse, grated raw from your sobs and you stood on wobbly legs to make your way to the bathroom.

Keigo only smiled reassuringly and before you closed the door, he spoke one more time, “I love you so much, (Y/N). Please don’t forget that.”

But how could you?

400 notes · View notes

hunnylagoon · 2 months

Text

Candy

PT1: Sober to Death

Ellie Williams x Reader

I’m home and here to stay like a ghost to haunt. You can’t shake me off your back for I linger in your head like carelessly uttered curse. Summer falls to ashes in my mouth and so I will spit them into your urn, just like that all of my devotion turns violent.

Premise: After a mental break you are being held together by nothing but glitter glue and craft yarn. You seek refuge with an old friend in a coastal town to live the life you thought you left behind.

Warnings: SENSITIVE THEMES / reader is a recovered addict / mentions of drug and alcohol abuse / angst / brief mentions of violence / possibly triggering discussions of drug addiction

Read at your own discretion

Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal has been forced into a cage where it thrashes and screams. Perhaps I will turn into a snarling wolf and rip out the throats of each girl who made me go home crying in middle school. Maybe I will don the pelt of a sheep and surprise all of those who convinced me it was a good idea to try ketamine when I shed my cloak and reveal my long curled claws and fangs sharp as knives.

I'm heartless at worst and helpless at best.

I don't know how else to be. I was raised like a stick of dynamite lit from both ends and I can describe in detail how the earth warps beneath my feet or how I watch the sky bend until it snaps and collapses onto a body too tired to lift it back up.

Everything miles ahead of what I was, to them, I was only ever an addict. Cursed with the nickname 'popper' since tenth grade and everyone thought it to be nothing more than a joke they didn't know how I found serenity in the tablet of acid that rested on my tongue.

It started with pot and drinking on the weekends then flew into full-blown benders when I swallowed back synthetic sunshine like it was candy. None of my friends thought I would end up with my back plastered on my dorm floor, eyes wide with what once was a bottle of pills frothing out of my mouth.

It took me two overdoses to get here, had to put my white blood cells to work.

"I didn't think you'd be up this early," Joel smiled at me, he was nursing a mug of coffee, a plate in front of him with a half-eaten piece of toast and a golden yoke running onto the porcelain. That might've been my favourite thing about the farm, fresh eggs. Once you have them you can never go back to the sad pale grocery store eggs.

"That makes two of us," I pulled out a chair from the wooden dining table and sat down. Joel had put so much love into this home. These days I’m too nauseous to eat breakfast.

"Ellie doesn't even wake up this early," He took a slug of his black coffee, the scent was strong, filling up the entire house, I could smell it the second I woke up. "How's the room? Is everything to your liking?"

I had felt so guilty for free-loading off Joel whom I hadn't seen since I was twelve, it had been eight years. He sent me cards on my birthday every year but I never was able to grasp how close our parents had been. I'm pretty sure I was friends with Ellie when I was little, there were pictures of the two of us hugging each other and playing beneath sprinklers, my front teeth missing, Ellie covered head to toe in Spider-Man band-aids. I didn't have any recollection of us when we were close, as we got older we got more stiff around each other. When my family would visit, she would hang out with her friends and I would keep to myself. Of course, my parents moved us to the city where everything hit me too hard all at once. "It's perfect, thank you."

"It's pretty hard to peel yourself off that mattress, huh?" Joel smiled at me, showing me every ounce of warmth he had when I was a child.

I nod in response "So much more comfortable than those stiff dorm mattresses," It almost felt like I was making conversation with a ghost.

"Since you're up so early, care for a tour while I do some chores?" He asked. I had been here a few days already, though I just kept to myself I didn't want to impose on his pleasant life with his daughter who hadn't called him at three am sobbing because she had too many opioids. I had wandered briefly around the farm of course and I had remembered bits and pieces of it from my childhood but I felt so out of place that I mainly locked myself inside of my temporary room and lived through my friend's Instagram stories.

"I'd love to," I smile politely, unsure of what else to do.

"Do you think you're gonna go back to school?" Joel asked as he stood up with his plate and mug in hand and began to wash them in the stainless steel sink. "No pressure, there's life outside of a lecture hall."

This was a question I had been thinking about day in and day out. I was a year and then some into getting my degree when my 'fun habits' began spiralling uncontrollably. My parents had managed to snag me a two-year deferral so I could go to rehab and go back to school the following year but I was so full of shame that I shook with the thought of going back. For the first time in my life, I am afraid I have no real desires.

When I was dead inside a motel bathtub, I thought I needed to be somewhere different but now that I'm there, I need to be someone different too. "I'm not really sure right now, just please don't tell my parents I said that."

"Secrets safe with me," He opens a cabinet and pulls out a bag of cat food, shaking it until a scrawny calico cat appears out of thin air. Pepper happily devours the food Joel puts in her little bowl. I remembered Pepper, she was a kitten way back then and I would cut open socks to make clothes for her. "You should just know that it's never too late."

Very early in my life, it was too late. "Thanks, Joel," Not yet a corpse and still I rot like all of my ambitions turn to sludge at my tired feet.

He looks around, exhaling a deep breath, trying to scope out anything else he has to do in the kitchen. "You outta get geared up, I'm gonna wake up Ellie then me and you can get to work."

I nod in agreement even though I'm not sure what he means by 'gear up' so I figure that's just him saying to put on a hoodie and some rain boots. I stand awkwardly by the door, waiting for Joel. Absentmindedly I rock back and forth on my heels hands clasped together. I'm twenty years old but I feel like I'm twelve again, trying to find a place for myself in someone else's life.

I thought of the last time I was in this house. I was twelve, unaware of the future that awaited me, I had buried a time capsule with Ellie and her cousins somewhere on this property. Writing to my future self, talking about all of the things I should be. If only she saw the brain-rotten zombie that was her destiny.

My parents had told everyone back home I was backpacking across Australia and taking a break from academics to see the world. In the eyes of those who knew me well and were more than aware of what happened, it was a shame to them that I had wasted a sharp brain and a pretty face. It takes a whole lot of strength the endure myself.

It doesn't take long for Joel to walk back down the creaky stairs, Ellie trailing behind him, sleep in her eyes. She's in boxers and one of Joel's old t-shirts, hair still messy and unbrushed. Ellie yawns and gives me a little wave- it wasn't really a wave, just her raising a hand in my direction as an acknowledgment.

We hadn't spoken much since I got here, I had met her in the past but we didn't know each other. A lot can change in eight years. She wasn't unfriendly toward me, we indulged in small talk and laughed at each other's jokes but each conversation was so shallow I wanted to lay face down and drown in them.

Ellie goes straight for the fridge, unlike her dad, she pours milk into a sickly sweet cereal which seems cavity-inducing. She was back from college for the summer, taking advantage of her father's love and food. Joel walked over to where I was standing at the door, slipping into his mucking boots. "While you're both here," He says before looking at me "How much do you know about boats?"

I furrow my eyebrows "A good bit I guess?" I answer, figuring he was just trying to rekindle a spark between Ellie and me that had been put out eight years ago by rain, ocean spray, and vodka.

"Y'know, Els," He gestures towards me "This one used to work at her parent's marina, they tell me she's done a couple of repairs and I bet she could give you some pointers on how to fix up that boat." I'm confused by his words, this is the first I've heard about a boat. Joel can see the uncertainty on my face "Her uncle gave her a piece of shit boat last summer before she went back to school, over the year I guess some teenagers thought it was a good hideout and trashed it even more."

"Seriously?" Her head pokes up "It would be great if you could come down with me later, she just needs a little love," Ellie spoons some cereal into her mouth. I had always thought it weird how people spoke about their boats like they were women, I even caught myself doing it on occasion. "Only if you want to, of course."

"Sure," I agree, no idea how much repair this boat was in need of "I've got nothing better to do."

I could tell Joel counted this as a win. I knew he had been commuting with my parents and how desperately they wanted me to keep myself occupied for the summer. "Well, we've got some work to do, kiddo."

After a solid five hours of following Joel around like a duckling and re-learning all the names of the animals, I was walking with Ellie toward her pickup truck. "Wanna drive?" She asks as we walk to the long beaten driveway

"Oh, I can't." The coolness of the morning has ebbed away into a borderline unbearable heat, I wasn't sure how Ellie was absolutely unfazed in her Jeans, T-shirt, and trucker hat.

"You never got your licence?"

"No, it got taken away."

She cracks a grin "Jeez, what did you do? Hit a pedestrian?" Ellie teases.

"Something like that," Truthfully, my licence got revoked after I got a DUI and swerved my car off the highway, I was too high to realize the danger I was in and laughed the entire time warm blood pooled from a gash in my head that had to be stapled shut. Luckily my parents can throw money at anything and the problem will go away.

She hops in the truck, there are little bits and pieces of it that show how it's lived in. A rubber duck with sunglasses sits on the dashboard and I'm partially surprised it hasn't melted in the sweltering heat.

As beautiful and scenic as the drive down to the docks is, it's also extremely awkward, only on my end, Ellie seems completely unfazed. Travelling down the dirt roads until we finally hit the pavement.

The salty breeze of Andromeda Cove carries conversations of clubbing and tanning, mingling with the sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and sea salt. Colourful beach umbrellas dot the shoreline. Seagulls glide effortlessly overhead, their calls blending seamlessly with the distant laughter of beachgoers. Quaint shops and cafes line the bustling boardwalk, offering an array of surfboards, souvenirs, and freshly caught seafood delicacies.

The Cove was immune to those gross and bland modern buildings that looked like something I would've made in Minecraft as a kid. Everything down here was local and kept its charm even after all these years. "Do you ever miss it here?"

"I don't remember much of it to be honest."

"Really?" She asks, taking a turn down to the docks "It doesn't seem like it was that long ago."

"Yeah, my memory just isn't very good." My lungs are burnt and my brain is fried. You could tell me that I was in cheerleading for five years of my life and I would probably believe you.

"Alright."

I hadn't remembered her being this quiet but then again I don't remember much, I should probably write down everything I can before Alzheimer's sets in. There are lapses in my mind where memories should live, I recall my life through glimpses.

Ellie takes her keys out of the ignition and hops out of the truck, leading me down the docks. I keep guessing in my head which boat belongs to her and then the second I spot it, I know and how I dread. It's a sailboat or what's left of one, sharpie graffiti scribbled all around it. The word 'wanderlust' had once been titled along the side though the first half was scratched out by what I assume were those teenagers Joel mentioned so it just said 'lust'.

Ellie had no problem climbing aboard, I on the other hand had doubts that it could support the weight of two people, let alone itself. There were chips of white paint scraped off, Ellie motioned for me to get on deck "How long has this been abandoned?"

She waves me off "There's freedom that comes with abandonment."

I raise an eyebrow "Sinking in a boat that's docked is a very lame way to die."

"Nah," She says "We can haunt the marina."

She holds out her hand for me to take it and with hesitation, I do. Stepping over the gap between the dock and the boat, I haul myself over the rails. Even in the dark, I could make that climb, it was almost like muscle memory from working at my parents marina summer after summer. "She's a beauty, yeah? In her own special kind of way," Ellie pats the side of the companionway. "I actually made some progress on it last summer, if you can believe me."

"I don't know if I can," I look around, following her as we duck into the saloon.

She reaches for a notebook with a pink sharpie clipped onto it on the table of the saloon and turns to face me "Whoever was here must've been a real wordsmith, what I can't figure out is how the words got out of the notebook and onto my walls."

I crawl onto the cushioned V-berth to get a better look at all of the writing on the walls. Most of it had been poetry, not Edgar Allen Poe but the kind that only an angsty teenage girl on the verge of a mental break could've written.

The Statue of Juliette:

May I ask what you have done to women?

That your hands have only learned to harm one

Hand after filthy hand

Is dragged

Groped

Caressed

Prodded

Over my rusted skin

The things I have seen

The things I have endured

No water can clean me

No blanket can warm me

Take a hammer to my bronze flesh

And I will thank you for your kindness

As my body crumbles and clatters against cobblestone

I am eternally grateful

For this is the gentlest act I have ever faced

"I know," Ellie says, and I look back to meet her sharp gaze "A real Sylvia Plath.”

"Is this your candle?" I reach for it on the ground, it's halfway through its life. A vanilla bean bath and bodyworks candle.

She takes it from my hand and gives it a sniff "I was wondering why it smelled so good in here, I just thought that was you." She places the candle back onto the saloon table "So, Neptune's daughter, where should we start?"

I snatch the notebook from the table and flip it open to a page clean of any writing. It takes a little less than fifteen minutes to seek out all of the trouble spots. Ellie followed behind me and nodded to everything that I was saying.

The boat isn't in nearly as bad of condition as I expected. I suspected that the teenagers who occupied it while Ellie was away at college had all been girls, they took relatively good care of the boat aside from the graffiti, allegedly most of the damage had been there when Ellie got it from Tommy a year ago.

We now sat next to each other in the booth around the saloon table, the ocean rocked the boat beneath us ever so gently, the same way a mother would rock her child's cradle. I missed the sea when I was in college, on a bender I had driven three hours just to be back with it, it seemed the only safe place to let go and be reborn. I liked the sharpness of the air, the vastness of the horizon and the mystery beneath it. I thought I would rise from the seafoam a new woman the same way Aphrodite did but no, I threw up on the sandy shores and called my parents to make it go away.

I give the notebook over to Ellie, a new entry written in bright pink Sharpie amongst the poetry and anecdotes.

Wanderlust's issues:

Mainsail and jib seem sketchy; Unfold the hoist for a full assessment

Wiring issues are out of my hands but a probable concern-should probably call in an expert

Nav instruments are cracked

Leaks on starboard window, probs cracked moulding

Interior woodwork is original, mainly solid despite a bit of mildew

Graffiti and chipped paint, graffiti likely cleanable (May need a new coat of paint)

Possible rigging issues

Underside? That's a question for the experts

Final Verdict: Wanderlust is a seaworthy vessel in need of some love

Ellie lets out a low whistle "God, I love a girl who knows the difference between a mainsail and a jib." She cracks a mischievous grin.

"You're teetering very close between sexy and crass," I tease her in return.

She seems a little taken aback by my comment, like she hadn't anticipated a response but ignores it nonetheless "What would it take to make you my first mate?"

"I'm sorry?"

"For someone with a bad memory, you seem to know your boats, Joel said that you used to work on charters. You gotta know more about sailing than me. It'll be a fun summer project, get you out of the house a bit."

I furrow my eyebrows as I look at her "You want me to work on the boat with you?"

Ellie nodded. She didn't rush to fill the silence that stretched between us, she didn't bother to sweeten the deal or hunt for some reason I would like working with her. She just let it stand. I looked her in the eyes, trying to figure her out. She goes from being almost non-verbal with me and now she asks me to spend the summer on a boat with her. I wondered if she knew what she was doing at all and if I would be carrying her through this.

I had a feeling that Ellie would become my next bad habit. It's easy to get addicted when everything interests you and nothing satisfies you. "I'm in."

"You won't regret this," Ellie almost jumps up, I swear I could've seen her making calculations in her head "So, I'm thinking we get rid of all this junk and get a good look at it bare bones, make a list of supplies and give her the spa day shes in desperate need of."

On my second day as first mate, I had been scrubbing away inside of the saloon while Ellie did some work on the exterior, my Scrub Daddy was being put to work. By the time I even made a dent in all of the Sharpie poetry, it was nearly falling apart and begging to be killed.

When I emerged from the companionway to replace my filthy bucket of water I spotted Ellie chatting up a girl on a dock. She had long glossy black hair that cascaded down her back in strategic ringlets. "So you're gonna sail on this thing?"

"Rebuilding her first," Ellie tells her, leaning against the railing. The girl she's speaking to looks like she's freezing, denim shorts cropped high and a white tank top.

"Do you need help?" She smiles and even I'm seduced by it. She has tanned skin that she's clearly been working on and sunglasses pushing back the silky hair from her forehead. "I've been on boats, lots of times," Her arms are crossed over her chest. I can see goosebumps all over her legs from the chill brought to us by the gray sky above and the frigid air.

"That so?" Ellie asks, rising to her full height. A wrench in hand, it looks like the beginning of a really bad movie, not a family-friendly one. She saw me then, standing behind her. I watched her facade drop. Her smile changed as I approached, turning from flirt to friend in two seconds.

"Oh, hey," The black-haired girl regards me like I'm some kind of threat. "So do you need help or what?"

Ellie looks at me and then back to her "Thanks for the offer but we're all set."

"Do you maybe wanna grab lunch or something?" She completely ignores me.

Ellie shakes her head "We've got lots of work to do, but-" She takes a deliberate pause and I almost cringe "I'll probably be at the shipwreck later. Stop by if you're around."

"See ya'," She grins and takes the sunglasses off the top of her head, placing them on the nose bridge before walking back down the dock.

"Wow," I dump my bucket of water over the rail of the boat "Looks like super difficult work out here, you are so brave." Sarcasm drips from my tone "Without you, who will flirt with all of the hot girls at the marina?"

"No need to be jealous," She says "I'm spending every waking minute with you after all."

I gave her the evil eye but I truly wasn't jealous. I didn't chase the thrill of a fling or late nights with girls whom I would forget by morning. I had dropped that by college and replaced it with ketamine and opioids, I abused liquor like I was its two-faced love. Now the only thing I chased was calmness.

I wasn't jealous, just briefly reminiscing over how carefree I used to be.

The tide was rolling and the sky above us was gray and angry as if something was raging within it. "Shit," I mutter, waves shifting from a distant hiss to a closer hush. The air hung heavy, I hadn't even noticed the change in weather from what seemed like the century I spent scrubbing away in the saloon.

Ellie must've noticed what I was. "So, I'm thinking we should go?"

"You think?" I retort.

Moments later we're packed and rushing down the dock to find her truck. It doesn't take long for rain to begin to splatter on the ground beneath us, it isn't light and gentle, it's harsh. It sounds like pebbles being tossed onto a sheet of glass.

By the time we reach the truck, I'm soaked, hair sticking to my forehead and neck "You didn't want to poke your head into the saloon and say 'Hey, it's looking like there's gonna be a storm'?"

"I was a little preoccupied," Ellie isn't much better off than I am, she takes off the flannel she had on top of her tank top and tosses it into the backseat, her tattoo out on full display. The rain is so heavy that everything on the outside of her truck looks like a blur.

"Can you even drive in this?"

"No, can you?"

"No, I told you I have a DUI," The second the words leave my mouth I regret the slip-up. My eyes go wide and a hand slaps over my mouth, I'm acting like I just told her I was the one who took out JFK.

"You didn't tell me that."

"Well," I look forward, ignoring her piercing gaze, "I thought I did."

If not for the rain outside that pounded against the glass as if it wanted to be let in, we would've sat in complete silence while we drowned beneath all of the words going unsaid. My mind begins to wonder, first I think of the black-haired girl at the docks; I hope she didn't get stuck outside in the rain, especially with her lack of clothing. Then I think about what Ellie's thinking, did she know already? Had Joel told her? I'm humiliated all over again like I'd been when the paramedics dragged my half-naked body out of a bathtub.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks. I don't say anything and she takes this as a hint "We don't have to talk about it."

I'm beginning to grow comfortable with the silence. I almost preferred it to the back-and-forth banter Joel and Ellie constantly had, which was more so father and daughter teasing each other.

Joel had probably known more about me than I did, my parents liked to keep him filled in after all. They just loved to keep tabs on me, if it was legal I'm sure they would put cameras behind my retinas and watch my every move. Eight months ago when I was in rehab, that was the most peace I've ever felt. As much as my parents wanted me clean, they held resentment since I ruined my life and was destroying theirs by association. Joel didn't seem like the type to gossip to his daughter but it nagged at me regardless. "Did Joel tell you anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just-like," I search through my brain to find the words "Like what I've been up to?"

She shrugged "He just said you are on a deferral and need a break from the city."

"Okay," I say, my voice so quiet it was almost smothered by the obnoxious rain.

"Are you hungry?"

We had thrown on two jackets Ellie had in the back seat of the cars. She offered me Joel's black raincoat while she humbly took the bright yellow rain poncho. It took everything in me not to laugh at her, she looked like Georgie.

Ellie slung one arm around me, we were both hunched over as we ran as fast as we could. She was shouting stuff at me but I couldn't hear her through the rain, I just nodded in agreement and hoped she hadn't said something awful.

She tugged me left, the deluge chasing us into Salty's for cover. It was nearly dead in there, two other tables, one was an elderly couple and the other was a group of girls, laughing like hyenas while one of them showed the others a picture on her phone.

Ellie wasted no time in taking off her poncho and I didn't blame her, no one wanted to be seen in that. The second we settled into a booth by the huge glass window which took up the entire storefront, an over-eager waiter came up. He was tall, had dark hair and had handsome features, he must've been bored with how slow it was in here. "Hey, Jesse," Ellie said "Can I have water and a big-buck burger?"

He nodded and swerved his body to look at me, "Alright and for you-" He looked up from his notepad and paused for a moment before a huge smile cracked on his face "I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Hi," I smiled, my mouth hanging openly awkwardly as I tried to recall him.

"Do you remember me?" He asked, his hand dropping to his side "Jesse," He reminded "We used to go to school together."

I had no idea who he was "Oh my god, yes!" I say "I remember."

His smile grows "God, you look so different."

"You too," I gesture at him "You're way more-" My mind falls flat "Grown."

He nods along to my words "Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"

Wanting this conversation as soon as possible I nod despite not even opening the menu “Yeah, I'll just get the, uh, big-buck and a club soda.” I repeated Ellie's order.

He jots it down onto his notepad "It'll be right up."

"Ellie, I don't know who that is," I say when I see him retreat to the server station to fill in the order. The entire restaurant is nautical-themed, the walls painted black, and there were nets with faux fish covering every square inch of the ceiling.

"Wow, I had no idea," She says, sarcastically "Damn, your memory really is fucked."

Trust me, I know or at least I think I do. I disregard her comment "Water? Don't you wanna get rootbeer or something? Joel said you drink so much soda that your blood is made of corn syrup."

She grins "Gotta keep up the tough guy act."

Across the restaurant one of the girls waves to Ellie, this one has curly brown hair and a sundress "Hi, Ellie!"

Her eyebrows furrow "Hey there-um...you," Ellie said "Good to see you again."

The girl smiles slyly at Ellie before turning back to her friends. "Looks like I'm not the only one forgetting people, what's your excuse?"

"There's a lot of girls in the world, I can't remember all of their names."

"You must've gone through every girl in the cove, power to ya'," I say "No idea you had such a reputation."

"You don't know a lot about me."

I shrug "You know even less about me."

"I bet I could guess."

"Be my guest."

She leans back like she's carefully considering her next words, choosing them very wisely before she finally settles "You picked a major like communications and got bored quickly, decided you needed to do some soul searching. Probably read 'Eat, Prey, Love,' then went on a backpacking trip, expenses paid by your parents. Alternatively, you lived in a van and pretended to be a broke hippie."

I shook my head "Very cliche and you were only right about one thing."

"What?"

"I got bored quickly," The rain outside was failing to cease. Across from me, it looked like Ellie was calculating my every move. Her auburn hair was still wet, and from her hairline, a droplet of water dribbled down onto her button nose to rest on her cupid bow.

"Can I have a hint then?"

"No."

I see a realisation hit her "You partied with frat guys?"

I shook my head "I've always been too cool for them." I wasn't too cool for them, I was too fucked up to even know they were throwing a party until someone verbally informed me, by that point all I've ever done at a frat party was break in through a window and steal a keg like the disgusting fiend I was. It was nothing to be proud of, my friends thought it was hilarious and posted it on their Snapchat stories, egging me on and feeding into this sickening behaviour. What wasn't funny was how I got caught and winded up with a busted lip and broken rib. With pupils the size of my iris, I couldn't feel the pain I was in.

"Okay, now you have to tell me."

"I can't, I lose my mysterious allure."

The bell above the door chimes signalling the arrival of another customer and said customer makes a b-line for our table. She takes a seat next to Ellie "Jesse texted me that you were here.”

"Dina, were you at work?" Ellie furrows her eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's not like anyone's buying souvenirs right now and Jesse told me you finally came back," She whips her head to look over at me.

I genuinely remembered her, unlike Jesse. She had buried the time capsule with Ellie, her family and I. I also recalled how her older sister used to give us hand-me-down clothes. "Dina, hi."

She has freckles scattered across her face the same way that Ellie does. Her smile was so comforting, I forgot that I was soaked to my bones and shivering. "Well we should all do something together tonight," Dina grins "You're doing Ellie a huge favour by helping her fix that rig, she better give you some good head for it."

I almost choke on my saliva while Ellie just groans with disappointment like she had anticipated Dina saying something along those lines "D, you can't say that stuff around every girl I'm with, this is essentially my sister for the summer."

Dina raises her hands in defence "Sorry, my bad, I was unaware since you failed to mention that you have my old friend living with you." Ellie looks like she's going to say something but Dina speaks up again before she has the chance to "Let me give you my number."

Wordlessly, I hand my phone over to Dina who fills out her contact information and then gives my phone right back to me. I study Dina's face and her mannerisms, hoping that something might bring me back to my childhood which has been wiped away by every upper and downer you could put a name to. Something about her seemed familiar, maybe we had been closer friends than I thought.

I nod along to whatever she and Ellie are saying, chiming in random bits of dialogue but my mind is stuck on the two of them side by side. They're what I could've been if my family never moved us away and I hadn't turned my brain into sludge.

The life I could've had.

Ellie smoked from what I knew, maybe Dina or Jesse were into something a little more hardcore. Hardcore? If hardcore qualifies as drowning in a concoction of cough syrup, Vicodin, codeine, and Gatorade to balance out the flavour of self-destruction. The bottles I swallowed to sleep, I showed up to almost every lecture high. Here I was handed what was nearly a good life and I tossed it away for something with a sweeter taste than a stable job and proper education.

The horrors I've committed. No good deed will ever outdo the bad that I have unleashed upon this godforsaken earth. From my clouded brain, paralyzing thoughts come to life to curse myself, the nightmare no mother would wish for her child to endure.

Relapse after relapse, I would fall sick with the thought of how many times I had to relapse until I was finally clean and that bitter flavour washed from my mouth.

"Are you okay?" Dina asks with a smile and furrowed brows "We kind of lost you there."

It's one in the morning and I want to drink wine then slip beneath the rapid waters that will gladly pull me under and claim me as theirs.

Instead, I opt for a class of water. As Dina had said earlier, she wanted to get a bunch of friends together but the second we got home, I showered and locked myself away. Echoes of laughter and chatter drifted through my window.

I slip down the steps that lead to the kitchen. Outside the rain has finally dissipated and Ellie, Dina, Jesse, along with a handful of people I don't know crowd around a bonfire. The kitchen is illuminated only by moonlight, the moon hung over me as I poured myself water from the tap, a dead thing over a dying thing.

I have seafoam in my veins and centuries-passed sunshine that induces my craving for some pills that will put me to sleep. Three months completely clean and yet that doesn't end the yearning for the drugs that comforted me more than any human ever had.

The door cracks open and in comes Ellie, she's laughing and from the uncontrollable giggles, drowsy gaze, and slightly disoriented walking I can tell that she's been smoking. "Hey," She smiles at me, reaching passed me to grab a mug with Garfield on the front and fill it with water but she doesn't take a sip, she just sits it down on the counter behind us and stares at me.

Our faces only inches apart, I contemplate her next move. This close I can smell the marijuana on her and I almost want to scuttle upstairs and light a candle. Ellie hugs me, wrapping her arms around my midriff and letting her head find its resting place in the crook of my neck "Are you okay?"

"Mhm" She hums "I'm just glad you're here, whatever the circumstances are, I'm happy that you're helping me with the boat," I'm carrying almost her full way, and she's slouched against me "I love you man, I know you don't remember a lot from when we were kids but we had a lot of fun together."

"Thanks, Ellie," I give her a little pat on the back "That's really nice of you."

She peels herself away from me, using the counter to lean against instead. She looks me up and down, having an intense staring contest with my pyjamas "Do you wanna come out and smoke with everyone?" She's shed her tank top and thrown over a gray hoodie to shroud her from the oncoming cold.

I shake my head, no "I don't mess with that stuff."

"That's smart," She says "Have fun in your room, stowaway, I'll see you tomorrow to work on our boat," With that Ellie leaves without grabbing the Garfield mug she came in here for.

A/N: Hey, y’all. I’m aware I have a million open docs, I assure you they are all getting some love but I needed to come back to my roots and write some angst. These are some issues I have struggled with and I feel that it’s important to bring attention to it so it’s not taboo.

194 notes · View notes

jaykaysthicthighs · 2 months

Text

The Path Of A Singer | JJK

excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.

genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff

rating | 18+

warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more

wc | 4K+ (very short)

notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!

my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.

You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.

You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.

The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.

When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.

You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.

You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.

You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.

On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.

Three Years Ago

You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.

Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.

As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.

Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.

With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.

"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."

The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.

Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"

The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.

A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.

When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."

The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.

You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.

Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.

The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.

When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.

You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.

You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"

"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.

Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"

You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.

Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.

Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"

Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.

You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.

"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"

Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.

Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.

Present

"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.

Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.

Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.

"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.

Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.

You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."

Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.

Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."

Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."

You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."

Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."

You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"

Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.

Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.

There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.

"You mailed her my letter?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.

The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.

Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.

Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.

"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.

Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."

The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.

He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.

Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."

The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."

217 notes · View notes