#can you imagine pouring blood sweat & tears into a game

[retquits]

1.6 is coming—see you march 19th!!! 🥹🌱

#stardew valley #can you imagine pouring blood sweat & tears into a game #releasing it for like $15 #and then working for 8 more years to add more content without asking for a cent more #for what could have easily been several dlc packs #i love you stardew valley i love you concernedape i love you indie games thank you for being my home all these years #EDIT: added image ID in the alt!!

[justjams2003]

I’ll take care of you

Okay so, the person who requested this, asked for it like 2 weeks ago I think. I feel so bad for making them wait for so long TT. I do have several excuses of course but I don’t think that they’d like to hear them. Also I like finished writing it and then I reread the requist and I did like half of it wrong so then I redid it. Um so yeah, sorry for making you wait. I hope it is what you wanted, made the wait worth it :)

Pairing: Le Chiffre x reader

Summary: Your gambling father actually won a poker match against Le Chiffre himself. In a bout of anger, Le Chiffre makes sure to get his revenge

Warnings: Non-con, kidnapping, mood swings, blood tears, praising, degrading, p in v, tell me if I missed any

Word count: 2,4k

Gambling is a dangerous game. And you're a beautiful girl. One almost everyone sought after. Your father would bring you to his poker matches, he'd call you his secret weapon. It made you uncomfortable, but he's a scoundrel. Someone who begs and grovels and will look for the fastest way possible to make a quick buck.  

Most of the time, it worked. He'd ask you to wear your most revealing dress and when you walked in the room, he'd be able to figure out what his opponents tell. It's just plain dirty and low of him. Using his own daughter like that. He doesn't care though; he made his money.  

However, this isn't most of the time. Your father has got himself into quite the trouble this time. Somehow, he'd landed a gambling match with Le Chiffre himself. Of course, others are there but that doesn't really matter too much.  

This is your dear old dad's last buy in, and he's racked up quite the debt. It's only him, Le Chiffre and one other. He feels like he's sweating like nothing before. The Albanian man's stare is like a laser cutting through his bones. Finding all the little secrets and knowing exactly what his cards are. He's 3 million in debt to him already. If he loses this round, it's another 3.  

Now's the time, like you've rehearsed so many times. Your dress has a slit running all the way up to your hip, exposing skin and leaving the imagination excited. Your back is entirely open, and your front fabric is held up by barely a few strings.  

Your hips away as you walk in, and you grab a champagne from the first waiter you can find. You go over and whisper something in your dad's ear. Something unimportant, what is important is that Le Chiffre seems to lock his jaw. His eyes roam every part of your body.  

You feel hot, you never do, this is normal to you. But the way the scar on his eyes gives him this aura of danger that makes you slick. Not to mention his eyes don't even bother to look at your cleavage. They stare into your soul, grasping you and begging you to come just a little closer.  

No, you mustn't. You must stay true to your father. He does all this for you, yes? Or at least that is what you tell yourself. You sit down, crossing your legs and making sure your slit shows off as much as your leg as you can.  

The game goes on. It doesn't look like this distraction tactic has worked much. Your dad looks to be bleeding chips, he still has no clue what Le Chiffre’s tell is and the other man has already given up. Even winning though, the Albanian man still is pouring his heat onto you.  

Your father is down to his last few thousand. His leg is bouncing, and sweat is pouring from him. “I can smell you,” Le Chiffre leans over and whispers to him. Trying to save him just an ounce of his dignity. “I tell you what. You lose this and I’ll let you keep 3 million.”  

Your only parental figure lets out a huge sigh, “Thank you, thank you so much.” He’s practically praising the man for his kindness, Le Chiffre himself. “But I have a condition.” He continues but unfortunately at that point you couldn’t hear much else.  

Annoyingly the waiter kept bothering you and by the time you shoe’d him off, your father called you over. You thought this was another tactic of his. You saunter over, making sure to accentuate your hips. “My dear how old are you?” He asks, caressing your arm.  

You give your best most innocent smile, “I just turned 18,” you flutter your eyelashes at the older men. He seemed to swallow his breathe there and then. His eyes avoid you, everyone, they’re glued to the floor. “Well then.” He bites his lip and again he sighs.  

Then he waves his hand over to Le Chiffre, “You belong to this man now.” Your eyebrows furrow and air escapes from your mouth in disbelief. “Belong to him?” You scoff again and look from your father, then to the other Albanian man and then back to dad.  

“Yes, I’ve sold you to get rid of the debt I’ve racked up.” He explains still not being able to look you or his opponent in the eyes. The man, whom you’ve seen for the first time this evening and honestly don’t even know the name to, gives a vicious smirk.  

There are no words that can even find their way out. That isn’t legal, is it? Though, none of this is legal in any case. If you were to go to the police, you’ll most definitely be killed. By any of these men, they’re all rich by some degree and the fact that your father even found himself here is a miracle.  

Though now it’s turning into a nightmare. Le Chiffre calls for the dealer that he’d like the cards to be shown. You hold your breath. This one moment defines it the rest of your life now. “Mr. Black wins.” Your heart races as your father throws out a matching three eights and Le Chiffre has nothing.  

You two both jump up in joy, showing more emotion than anyone else in that room probably ever has. You give the man a smirk, who’s name you still don’t know. “Sorry mister, whatever your name is, looks like I’m staying all by myself.” You give him a smirk and you and your dad walk off to celebrate.

It’s the middle of the night and suddenly you can’t breathe. You can taste the dirty rag being pressed against your mouth. Even with open eyes you can’t see. You struggle but its big strong hands picking up. You can’t scream, you can’t see with the sack over your head.

Though soon enough it’s pulled off your head. The room has little light, and it definitely helps with the senses. There is no need for light though, the man with the scar over his eye is right in front of you. His bodyguards, presumably the people who stole you from your bed, scatter.  

“You.” You narrow your eyes at him, the ropes burn your wrist. You feel exposed, your pyjamas don’t really count much considering it’s only your panties and a tiny, cropped tank top. You clench your legs trying to hide yourself at least just a bit.  

“You lost. I’m not yours to own.” You almost bare your teeth at him, though you feel that might just anger him. He scoffs at this. “This is what you believe. But I saw you and you are mine. That is something that neither of us will question.”  

He commands, stepping closer to you. He crouches down in front of you, his hand lands on your thigh. He bends over, his nose grazes your inner thigh making his way up to your stomach with a deep breath in. “You want it though; I can smell it.”  

He smirks, it might just be true, his touch does things to you, his gaze but this is too much. Far too much and you feel uncomfortable, and you just want it to stop already. “No, no, it’s not true.” You shake your head and bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.  

He coos at you; his other hand takes your chin in between his fingers to look you in the eyes. “You do want it, you showed me with your eyes. You were more than eager, practically jumping out of that little dress of yours.” He licks his lips thinking back to it.  

“No, please, I-I was just flirting, my dad asked me to.” You beg him, shaking your head as the tears begin to fall. His hand begins to creep higher up your thigh. “Why would want to stay with a man like him? He shushes, wiping the tears off.  

He goes behind the chair and unties your ropes. You try to fight back but already he has your hands in a tight grip. “No don’t fight.” You don’t listen of course and throw your limbs around. “I said not to fight, I will tie you back up, do not test me.” He commands, your hands burn from his constraint.  

A sob racks through your body and you give into the pain. “Such a good girl, so good,” it doesn’t help, obviously. You’re not sure why he thinks it would. His hands find their way to your waist, what you don’t expect is for him to pick you up.  

He places you, even if gingerly, on the bed. His tongue is up and down your neck, sucking here and there only causing more tears to flow from you. “I’m saving you. He didn’t care. I fucking care. Just fucking accept it.” He grunts out.  

Then suddenly his mood changes again. “I’ll take care of you.” Now he’s soft and sweet again. He grasps you by the neck and forced his lips onto you. And when you refuse to kiss back, he grips your neck tighter to the point that it begins to burn.  

That doesn’t part doesn’t break you though, it’s when you begin to feel your lungs burn as well. He does go up to breathe but even then, his hand around your throat is so tight, no air seems to enter your lungs. And finally, when he presses up against you, you give in.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good?” He smirks and nods and when you return the kiss again, he grinds his tight bulge against your crotch. Even if he has his hand wrapped around your throat, you can’t help but feel good. Your panties are wet, after all just earlier you did want to jump on him.  

Your body moves without thought. Shoving yourself closer to him, to get more of that friction he’s craving as well. He groans out when you do this, letting go of your lips, still tasting your spit in his mouth.  

He stands up, you think this is it. He’s letting you go. That’s all he wanted. Yet when he unbuttons his shirt, throwing it over your shoulder, you know it’s not true. You don’t know what to do, what to say. You scootch yourself up to the furthest point on the bed away from him.  

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to cover what rest of you that you have left. Though soon enough his pants and underwear drop. Showing his massive cock spring out. Already it’s oozing, he’s getting off on your shivering form.  

He grasps his dick, giving it a few pumps. His eyes, half lid, look straight into yours. Again, it seems like he’s into your soul, he’s filled with lust. It feels as though he’s fucking you already. You look away, you feel yourself pulsing. You can hear him chuckle at this reaction you have.  

You hear the drawer open, and your curiosity gets the best of you. You glance over just to be met with a knife in his hand. “No, no wait, please,” you begin to beg already. Only thoughts of the violent things he might do to you run through your mind.  

He coos at you and climbs on the bed again. You begin to thrash and scramble but he grabs you by the ankle. He pulls you closer with such force that you’re laying down again. “Stop it, little girl. You were so good just now.”  

He prods the knife against your neck. You gulp and nod, if you’re good he seems to be nicer. You nod, “I’ll be good, sir,” it’s almost ironic that you still don’t know his name. He hums and nods, “I like the sound of that.” He smirks and again he sucks on your neck.  

Then he grabs the small straps of your shirt and cuts them off. Then shreds your shirt up, doing the same with your panties. You gasp at the cold metal. Fear laces your body every time the edge comes closer to your flesh.  

He hums again, “Your skin is so soft.” You curse your body as your thighs clench together and your cheeks get dusted with blush. His eyes flick down to your bare pussy. He grabs your legs, right by your bum. Already lining himself up with your throbbing hole.  

He doesn’t even bother to prepare me beforehand. He shoves right into you, you scream out, his size is just plain uncomfortable to begin with. He begins thrusting already, not even allowing time for you to adjust. He groans in your ears.  

Holding your legs right up against his pelvic bone, making sure he’s all the way inside you. His lips attach themselves to any part of you he can find. He moves from your one nipple to the other. Unable to be able to keep his lips off you.  

You can feel him inside you. His every grove and vein pressing as far as possible inside you. Your bodies are so tightly pressed up against each other, each thrust causes so much friction. Right up against your clit.  

You can’t help but start to beg for more. “Please, please sir,” it just slips right out of your mouth. You’re bright red, and Le Chiffre gives a wicked smirk. “Please, what?” He asks, thrusting into over and over making it almost impossible to say something.  

Though he’s going with such a force that soon enough he’s groaning and moaning in your ear. You can feel his hot and heavy seed mixing deep inside your body. You can see his muscles strain. And in the moment of pleasure and heat of his body, you feel your stomach tighten.  

And on those last few pumps there is a release in your whole body. He rides out his high and you can feel his gaze on your shivering body. “You’re mine, yes?” He nods, guiding you to say yes.  

After the exhaustion you see a single drop of red flow down his cheek. He slaps your ass, making sure you reply. To be honest, you’re in such awe, shock and exhaustion that the only reply you have is a meagre nod.  

#le chiffre #le chiffre x reader #le chiffre x y/n #le chiffre x you #james bond #casino royale

[enbyboiwonder]

Shounens are so stupid sometimes. In vol 2 of Attack!! they have a showdown between the overconfident newbie Harutaka (yes, he has power, but he has literally only 2 months of experience and doesn’t know how not to telegraph how he’s planning to spike; yes, he can jump high, but he doesn’t know how to jump properly, so on top of always losing his balance upon landing, he has his head angled up too high while in the air so he can’t see in front of him and can’t react to the blocker/s) and the genius setter Yuuta. If Harutaka can score off three spikes, he wins, but if Yuuta can score off three blocks, he wins. Predictably, Yuuta wins. But.

Because Harutaka’s spikes are so powerful, Yuuta tears the membrane between three of his fingers (to be clear, it’s two membranes: the one between his pinky and ring finger, and the one between his ring and middle fingers), yet he keeps playing. And then right afterward the captain shows up with the announcement that they’re having a surprise practice match in like 5 minutes, and he puts Yuuta in as starting setter! His injury is literally not acknowledged after he shows Harutaka during their showdown. That’s gotta hurt, and his hand has to be bloody at least somewhat (and possibly the ball too, from him handling it), so you can’t tell me no one else notices. Or that it wouldn’t affect his playing! He’s the freaking setter! At least get the boy a bandage, and then you can continue with your shounen idiocy.

(Granted, I’ve never torn the membrane between any of my fingers so I don’t know just how much they bleed or how much that hurts, and I doubt it would be pouring blood or anything, but it would still be visible, right? And it would hurt and cause him to favor those fingers, right? And it definitely should not have gone untreated—at the very least because, y’know, open wound! even if it is more minor than I’m imagining—and he probably still shouldn’t have been put in the game even if it had been. Eesh, and now I’m imagining sweat getting into the tears and them hurting even more…)

So now I’m kind of wondering how that type of injury would be properly treated. Do you just disinfect it and slap on a bandage and call it a day? (Well, I presume the fingers on either side of the tear would be wrapped together so moving them won’t aggravate and possibly reopen it.) Would you need stitches? Or would it depend on how bad/deep the tear is? (No matter how curious I am though, I ain’t looking it up because I don’t want pictures or graphic descriptions or anything. No thank you. I’m getting vaguely ill just from typing all this.)

#i can excuse some idiocy in shounens but this crosses the line #he should not have been playing like normal after that #at least have him hide it and try to ignore the pain and have it negatively affect his setting! #i may not have torn the membrane before but i have cut other parts of my fingers and that shit hurts #attack!! #ebw.op

[candylungs]

Features (READ THIS): somewhat graphic nawncawn, hatefucking, reader does not have a good time, not consensual, Kazan loves violence, dead dove do not eat

Notes: he’s big and beefy and has major anger issues to match his neglected sex drive. He hates flashlights and you pay the price for using one.

The Oni (Kazan Yamaoka) x F!Reader

Kazan hates those fucking blinding sticks. His pride squeezes, remembering common people rushing from their rightful places to challenge him. Remembering how they won. Every time, the spirit that failed him back then rises, attempting right living wrongs with blood.

You are one of the most infuriating, always slinking behind him and waiting for him to fill his hands with a body before rendering him a stumbling, dumb ogre. As surely as Kazan wields a sword, you clutch…a toy.

He can hear his father as he chases you down the family halls, calling him a shame as you are forced to the ground by his bulk.

Killing you doesn’t satisfy anymore. The entity tries, but no game can truly last forever. You’re over-ripe and comfortably rotting in the shade.

But there is violence still that hasn’t yet wormed under your skin by his hand.

Kazan remembers how pretty the pleasure district girls were, dancing and singing and drinking stinking of fear. Repulsion marring their promised refined movements, they lay under the futon blankets like stones as he sunk into them.

Increasingly, he misses that—his thick length causing their bodies to fight their frightened minds, forcing their bodies loose and warm.

He bashes the stick against your head, the beam of warm light flickering from the force. Your scream is sharp, dissolving into a long groan as blood pours down your chin and drips to the tatami mat floors.

There are kimonos in the manor still and he is sorely tempted to force you into one. He is half hard as he rips your shirt, imagining you in red silks. Your pants are tugged down and his breathing escalates as he sees your bare underneath.

Slow as though you’re swimming, you catch his hands all the while and fail to tug them away, weak without your trickery. He forces his mask between your legs and inhales deeply. The husky scent mixes just so with your acrid sweat, your tiny blood.

Kazan will not allow you to behold him in full, but he untucks himself, shifting only that armor which would obscure him from entering you.

You cry, biting at the gloved fingers that enter your mouth moments after he pushes in between your shaking legs. He wants so much to slide his mask away and punish that with his one teeth, but Kazan is a man of pride. And you are too like the farmers to deserve him in full.

Despite your body pressing into the floor, fighting to fall out of reach, that part of you that holds him is hot, slick, and sucking him in further.

He laughs, at you and anyone who could doubt his prowess—father, farmers, and the thoroughly fucked body under him.

One of his hands is around your neck as the other journeys from your breasts to your hip and back, never still. His coming climbs like the haze of battle and he roars triumph, thick ropes of seed filling you.

You shout the word no over and over as you follow, choking on tears and lack of air and the strangled high of your body squeezing him gladly.

Kazan does put you in a kimono after, obi barely tied, silk red as the sticky blood covering one side of your face. He carries you to a hook and delights in the way his seed leaks down your thighs as you struggle, your belly full of metal instead of child.

The next match, your hands are empty and he feels his drive renewed, humor restored.

It’s too late for goodwill gestures of submission.

His swelling pride is replaced by the growing tightness of his armored pants as he chases you, eager to see you so horrified and alive again.

#kazan yamaoka x reader #kazan yamaoka x you #the oni x reader #the oni x you #dbd x reader #dbd imagines #dbd smut #nawncawn #violence like this is a serial killer HES VIOLENT

[yoonieper]

Pecattiphilia— Part 3 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, fluff, future smut, this is a slow burn!

✽ Rated: S for Sparks

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and possible gore, and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: an attempt at dialogue, tension’s rising, a teeny tiny amount of gore (nothing too bad), some promiscuous activity ;), this chapter’s mainly cute fluffy stuff, but as always Jimin gots some spicy thoughts about y/n and y/n does for Jimin, they both horndogs

✽ Word Count: 7k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden, it's sin. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: Sin City by Chrishan (slowed), Have Mercy by Chlöe, Blood Sweat and Tears by BTS

✽ Author’s Note: New year, new me! No more waiting MONTHS for the next part, I’m gonna try and prioritize finishing Pecattiphilia and Secrets of the Sea as I have a bunch more series in the closet, waiting to be released! This was kinda rushed so sorry for any mistakes! But we back baby, let’s get it! Side note... I just realized if you have the normal theme on tumblr you probably can't see the layout omg... Anyway, preparing a Valenties + Hobi Day special after this! Stay tuned for more~

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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“And what does that mean?” You asked, charmed by the claim. “You’re my angel?” You thought he was just flirting with you, your imagination having more game then you can keep up with.

But the claim did make your eyes start picking up a few details— one set of the earrings that decorated his ears were fancy crosses and you even spotted the chain around his neck with a smaller cross around it. Interesting.

“That’s right.” Jimin already got out the dish and was pouring wine for the both of you.

“So, you’re an angel?” You were amused.

You saw him chuckle to himself. “I am if you want me to be~” You didn’t even need to look at him to see the smirk on his face. He was charming… oh your brain was good.

“So does that mean you’re telling me underneath all of this…” You grabbed hold of his cardigan. “There’s a demon?” Your tone was almost teasing. What you didn’t expect was for his face to light up at your words.

“Uh— well I wouldn’t say that, but you know…” He was stumbling. Again, not what you expected this to go.

You grabbed the bowl of the dish Jimin was serving. “Hmmm so you’re an angel…” you looked him over, “I believe you.” He certainly looked the part, you’ll play along with the game your brain is playing.

“You don’t, but that’s ok.” He giggled and you couldn’t help the look of shock on your face realizing he knew what you were thinking. You remembered this was a dream and of course your own mind knows what you’re thinking.

“I just didn’t think angels bleed is all~” You mumbled, taking a sip of your wine.

“What makes you think that? I can get hurt too.” He pouted.

“But we’re talking about an angel here. Aren’t they supposed to be all, I don’t know, high and mighty. A celestial being like that, I just don’t really picture bleeding.”

Jimin looked at you, stunned by your answer. “I mean, you have a point. But look…” He grabbed your hand.

“I may not be human but pain still exists in my world.” He let go of your hand, turning back to look at the beautiful field. “You brought up a good point though, I wonder why I was designed this way. Is it to remind me of what I once was, the life that used to course through my veins. I don’t need blood, I’m not even alive. Is it so I remember my place, that I’m not like them. I’m not human nor truly a real angel. A question like that makes me wonder.”

You just stared at him utterly confused at what he was saying. What happened to the flirty guy? Now you got an angel with an existential crisis.

You heard him chuckle beside you taking you out of your thoughts. “An existential crisis, really?” He laughed.

“Ok, you need to get out of my head.” You sighed, playfully rolling your eyes, taking another sip of your wine.

“I’m the one over here being all interperspective and all you’re thinking about is how I’m having a crisis.”

“I mean, that’s what it sounds like…”

Jimin just laughed and you couldn’t help your heart fluttering at the sound. Why is this man so beautiful…

“Oooo, thank you~” You turned to Jimin, he was smirking and you knew immediately what he was referring to. You gently slapped his arm.

“Get out of my head!!”

“But your thoughts are so cute~” He cheesed and you just sighed.

“Anyway, we changed the subject. Turn back around.” You asked and he followed. To your horror that small spot had now encompassed his entire back. You could even see some of it had dripped onto the grass.

“Jimin what the fuck happened to you?” You asked, your hands over your mouth at the shock of it all.

“Would you believe me if I said I fell from heaven trying to get to you?” He asked and all you could do was stare. That wasn’t the joke he thought it was.

“I’m kidding, don’t worry… it was um… a bad accident happened.” He lied and he certainly felt it. It was even worse because you believed him.

“Jimin…. This doesn’t look good at all.” You said quietly, watching with your own eyes his cardigan soak up even more of the blood.

“I had a feeling.” He tried to chuckle, but it was starting to hurt.

“Um, do you mind taking this off.” You asked hesitantly, but your caretaker instincts were kicking in even in your dream.

He turned around to face you. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know if I can do anything, but I feel like I should try! You’re bleeding so much…” If only you knew how much this meant to him. You thought this was a dream, yet here you were, caring for him all over again.

Jimin hesitantly started taking off his cardigan and unbuttoning the white shirt that was underneath.

If you thought it was bad because of the blood, with each layer he removed, it seemed to only get worse. The white shirt underneath was even more soaked, the blood was seeping through the fabric.

You were already trying to assess what type of injury could be causing so much blood, but as soon as he got his shirt off, you were horrified. Blood poured, seeped, dripped everywhere and covered a majority of the gruesome sight but even then you could still see his entire back was raw. It was badly burned in some places, his skin had had darkened around his shoulders, sides, and down his back. It was peeling everywhere, skin clinging on for dear life, red, screaming in pain. Towards the middle it was even more exposed, muscle was visible, so much red was seeping through, but even then you were sure that somehow the little white spot in the middle of his back was his spine.

“JIMIN?!!” You nearly screamed.

“Is it that bad?” He tried to say, but one glance behind him told him enough. You had scooted so you were all the way at the tree, your eyes still staring in horror at his back.

This wasn’t a dream. This was a nightmare.

“No, please don’t say that…” He sobbed. He could feel your terror, but Yoongi’s anasthetic was starting to wear off and it was hurting even worse than before. He could see your eyes start to tear up before you ultimately ran away screaming.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. He didn’t even bother chasing after you.

Jimin looked up at the sky. He was screwing this date up already.

You weren’t meant to see this. He thought he had a little more time before it started to fade but he really was pushing it, huh? The weird thing was, was the fact that what you’re seeing wasn’t even really how it looked. He didn’t have the insides whatsoever to be displayed like that, but it was what he wanted you to see. In truth, his angelic energy was starting to peek through slightly. It was just easier to show you something horrific rather than the truth, it was for a good purpose.

A quick glance at it would have burned you to a crisp, despite the fact this was the dream world, that didn’t matter. Unlike his weapons, you could see the light, if a cut was deep enough. 1000 lashings was more than enough to get past the barrier, and so when you asked, he knew that was the only way to contain the situation.

He felt bad though, maybe it was better if he insisted on not showing you. Now you probably thought he was some monster or something.

He sighed and was easily able to make bandages appear next to him. There wasn’t anything he could do to ease the pain, but at the very least he could try and stop himself from bleeding all over the place.

The blood, the blood was real. What you saw was the pain he felt.

Jimin raised his arms and the roll of bandages started wrapping around his torso. It took many layers, but eventually he was able to get it to the point he could last the rest of the date without blood sweeping through his shirt again. The pain wasn’t gone, but it was enough.

He snapped his fingers and his shirt and cardigan were as good as new. Time for take 2.

Jimin slowly got up, the pain making it hard, but he was determined to find you. He flew up high enough to look around and from up here he was easily able to see you running away.

Alright, let’s try this again.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Ooo we can try your dish, it sounds good!“ You smiled, honestly intrigued by the name.

Jimin smiled at you and started pulling things out of the basket. He had a wine you hadn’t even heard of, wine glasses, and of course those amazing dishes he brought. Jimin handed you a glass and already got to work pouring you some.

“Sooooo Jimin, what’s a guy like you doing taking me out on a picnic?” You asked honestly. You were curious, did your brain have an answer? “This is oddly romantic~”

Jimin looked at you. “Thought this would be something you’d like~”

“It is, all this is just so… if I didn’t know any better I would think you’re trying to impress me?” You smiled as you looked at your lovely surroundings. It was nice, too nice even.

“You would be right.” Jimin cheesed as he handed you your bowl. “I’ve wanted to take you out for so long, I tried to make everything perfect.”

You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at his words. “You speak like I’ve known you for years?” You racked your brain for places you could have gotten inspiration for such a beautiful guy.

“Are you supposed to be like, a guy I passed somewhere…? Restaurant, cute busboy or something? No, I definitely would remember you… Maybe you’re a celebrity I saw on a billboard or something… No…” You thought aloud. You couldn’t place it whatsoever. This man was gorgeous and you definitely would have remembered him.

This wasn’t making any sense.

Jimin could sense your confusion, almost forgetting he needed to do his whole introduction again. “This is the first time we’re meeting, but I’ve known you for a long time.”

“Ooo don’t tell me, you’re someone at my job that I briefly met, but this my dream and my mind made a whole scenario about unrequited feelings and so we’re meeting here!” You said a little too enthusiastically.

Jimin laughed and shook his head. You were adorable.

“Like I said I’m Jimin—“

“Just Jimin?” You interrupted.

“Yeah just Jimin…”

“Damnit my brain probably doesn’t remember your last name… alright, continue~” You smiled.

“Ok well…” Jimin paused waiting to see if he’d be interrupted again. Silence. Good.

“I’m Jimin and I’ve been looking over you for a few years now. I’m your guardian angel of some sorts.” Jimin looked at you waiting to see your reaction. You smirked, ok that was interesting…

Ok so it’s this type of dream.

“Ooo ok that’s what we’re doing today~ I can work with an angel…” Jimin could see all the unholy scenarios that were bouncing around in your head. He grabbed onto his wrist tightly. Oh fuck.

“Your mind is filthy…” He blushed.

You looked at him surprised. “You can read minds too?”

“Yes so… uh careful what you think.” He mumbled.

You turned away embarrassed. “You even saw the one in the church—“ You asked hurriedly and Jimin nodded, also turning away embarrassed.

For some reason the minute you heard angel you had this whole scenario of you being as a scandaly dressed nun, Jimin swoops in looking all handsome and angelic, naked for some reason. He takes you right there in there in the middle of the church, all blasphemous-like.

It was sin. Literally.

The bad thing is Jimin knew how much you enjoyed the thought, but also secretly how much he did as well. This was bad.

“Annddd now I’m blowing it in my own dream date.” You sighed worried you messed this up, but Jimin didn’t let you feel that way for long.

“Hey it’s alright, It’s really my fault I can’t really… turn it off. It’s your thoughts, I shouldn’t really be in there.” He put his hand on yours. You smiled.

“Anyway angel, let’s try to save the situation shall we?” You hurried, already tired of the awkwardness of the situation.

“Yes please.” He was so over it, he didn’t even realize the nickname.

“Can you do anything cool?” You wondered.

Jimin thought about it for a second. “I could fly you around if you’d like, but I know you don’t do heights…”

“Oooh someone’s been studying~” You were impressed by your own brain remembering your fear. It was sad, but in the moment it made your heart flutter.

“Anyway does that mean my angel’s got some pretty wings or do we not that here?”

That time he noticed it and couldn’t stop the giggle.

“Yeah we do that here, hold up~” In a rush to impress you he got up too fast, painfully reminding him of how bad his back hurt. This time you couldn’t know. He tried to push past it and got up to his feet. He slowly distanced himself.

“You ok?” You eventually asked, noticing how stiff he looked. Jimin nodded trying to brush it off.

“Behold—“ Your eyes widened as suddenly emerging from his back were two pairs of wings. You eyes trained onto them, a shimmer unlike anything you’d ever seen passed over the feathers. You hastily got up as well and noticed the odd detail on the fact they don’t actually connect to his back, but merely seem to fade into existence.

You had been so fascinated you didn’t see the pained look on his face when he revealed them. Jimin nearly fell to his knees at the unexpectedness of it. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate.

Jimin cut the show short and folded them back in. “I—I’m always here if you need a ride!” He tried to joke.

You laughed. “Honestly I might take you up on your offer~”

You both took a seat back on the checkered blanket.

“I would love to take you places someday if you’re up for it. Think it might be fun, maybe for another date~” Jimin was busy thinking about the future, meanwhile you were here hung up on the fact that he called this a date.

“Not so fast just Jimin, who said we were doing another date?” You smirked. You were already seeing him squirm.

“That’s only if you’d like— I didn’t mean—“

You laughed, straight up cackled. “The date’s barely started, no promises but I might be able to squeeze you in my schedule…” You cheesed.

You saw him smile.

“I guess I gotta work hard to impress you~”

“Maybe that might sway my decision~~~”

“Alright then… First step, food.” Jimin handed you back your bowl of aqua… aqui… acqua…?

“Acquacotta con funghi.” Jimin smiled, his accent perfect.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “That’s what I meant.”

“Take a bite, I think you’ll enjoy it!” He watched you earnestly as you picked up your spoon and took a bite of the dish. Part of you didn’t know what you were expecting, could you taste anything since this was a dream? You were surprised when you took a bite at the amount of flavor your brain managed to conjure up.

Woah, this was good.

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like it~” He laughed seeing you hurriedly taking another bite.

“If the wings didn’t say angel, this food surely would!”

And with that the date continued. You felt like you spent an entire day talking to Jimin, about anything and everything. It was weird, you knew this was a dream, but nothing felt like it. Jimin didn’t feel like your brain just conjured him up cause you were down bad, but a real person that you knew somewhere. It made you even more upset that you couldn’t place him anywhere.

Was he really just a figment of your imagination? It hurt to think about and even worse was that eventually you were going to wake up. This dream date was going to end and you were probably never going to see this angel again.

“You will, I promise.” You heard Jimin say next to you. It took you a second to realize what he was saying, you had started zoning out slightly as he was going on a tangent about one of his favorite mangas.

“We’ll see each other again.” He tried to reassure and you smiled.

“There’s no way for you to know that…”

“I told you I’m your angel, of course I do.”

“Jimin…”

“I’ll see you again soon.” You couldn’t lie, his confidence made you a little hopeful, but alas, that was probably just the optimistic side of your brain talking.

“You don’t believe me…” He sighed.

“I want to, but look around! All of this, it’s a dream! This field, that tree, this food, this date, you, you’re a dream!”

“I’m not a dream… This is a dream but I’m not. I’m out there fighting for you each and everyday, watching over you to make sure you’re ok. You can’t see me but I’m there. I know you won’t believe me since we’re here but just know I’m there for you and I’ll be back soon.”

His words were really starting to get to you. It made it even harder to believe this was anything but your imagination. It was exactly what you wanted to hear.

It also hurt Jimin on the fact that he couldn’t convince you otherwise. He was meant to be the dream and play the part, not push you into thinking there was actually another person here with you. This was as close as he could get to you, he really shouldn’t complain too much. It still hurt.

His attention turned back to you when he felt your hand on his cheek. His eyes were met with yours and he was surprised to find you smiling.

“I don’t wanna make this sad, I hate leaving things all gloomy. Why don’t we end this dream with a bang?”

Jimin was confused. “And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean Jimin, do you find me attractive?” You asked like it was nothing.

Now he was even more confused and flustered than ever. “What…?”

“You heard me.”

“I did but… what kind of question is that?!” His face was getting red quickly.

“Are you gonna answer? Do you think I’m attractive?” You looked at him, a devious smirk on your face.

“Extremely…” It was very cut throat, like it was a fact, Jimin thought you were attractive even before he met you in person. To be honest, saying that felt like an understatement. Somehow you managed to make one of the most emotionless creatures in the universe's heart do somersaults with a simple flick of your hair.

Even with the plan you had in mind, you could help the way your heart fluttered. A man like this calling you extremely attractive, even if this was your dream, you were reveling in it.

“Well alright then, I don’t need to say what I think about you as you’ve been in my head this entire date, but… Two adults who think they’re attractive, in a dream with nothing to lose.” You were bold, out of your mind, and a little drunk… very drunk, but you crawled over to him and swung your legs over so you were sitting right on his lap, facing him.

Jimin really couldn’t read you as you came over and managed to shock even him when you sat on his lap. He really didn’t know what to do, but he could certainly tell now what you wanted.

It was like a fire had been set on his wrist.

“I don’t know… maybe we could have some fun before this ends…” Your hand came up to trace patterns across his chest. It was the weirdest conflict of emotions he’d ever felt. How easy would it be to sin right here and now, he’d thought about this moment for years and now look, he’s finally getting his chance.

You could tell he was tense and you were determined to make him relax. You pushed him back gently so his back touched the grass, Jimin was so stunned he didn’t even mind the incredible pain he felt.

You were a temptress, a seductress, trying to lure him into sin.

You leaned forward making sure he could see down your sundress. You smiled at the way he bashfully stared, so cute, he really was an angel. So pretty and all for you.

You wanted him.

You got even closer till you were right at his ear. “Do you want me?” You voice was quiet, but it dripped with sin and a wanting Jimin wasn’t prepared for.

He could have moaned at the way you said that, your body right on top of his, how easy it would be to roll you over and take you the ways he’s been wanting. It’s not about what he wants though.

He had principles and despite him breaking a few rules to be with you right now, this was something on a completely different level. If he fell into temptation he would be betraying his team and himself in the process.

There was a reason why the word marked him permanently, he made a promise.

You smiled when you felt his grip on your waist tighten. I guess that was your answer.

His lips were so close and you easily leaned in, ready to finally feel his lips against yours.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Your eyes shot open. You quickly looked around realizing you were back in your room. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, the only light coming from your tv that was still playing that Crash Landing On You marathon.

It took a little while for things to settle in your mind on what happened.

You just had the greatest dream ever, with the hottest guy ever, and it ended before it got spicy.

You hurried under your blankets, kicking and screaming cause wow, of course that’s your fucking luck. Your brain probably got too excited and woke you up too fast. Part of you was tempted to cry, but after your little tantrum you started replaying the events of the dream.

He promised he’d see you again. It was nonsense, but there was a part of you deep down that hoped he would keep it.

Jimin… Jimin. You’d remember it forever.

Meanwhile the actual Jimin, the minute the dream ended flew out of your apartment, needing to be as far away from you as possible.

A rain cloud had formed above his head and poured onto his burning skin.

Was he that weak to temptation?

The fact he was even considering it for even a second was awful. It was horrible, disgraceful, everything in the book that he’s been taught not to do, all it took was a few hours with you and he was willing to throw it all away.

One look at his wrist told him how horrible it was even to think about. Right there where the words were, instead of the light golden color the words normally were, his skin had blacked it out. It had burned him that badly…

This was a hurdle he should have accounted for sooner, all he focused on was getting the chance to meet you.

Despite how much his mind has sinned, his intentions were purely innocent when he decided to meet you in your dreams. It was a chance to be with you in a way he knew was forbidden.

An angel shouldn’t sin, they were the warriors against it. He’s spent eons, more time then comprehensible, resisting that temptation and he was content. He’s never been tested like he was now.

Maybe this was it, the punishment, see how far he can go before he loses his mind. Fate was fair. A chance to meet you but he had to resist every urge he got with being with you.

Another crossroad that should have been easy appeared. He could stop this, go back to just being your guardian and save himself from putting him in situations of temptation, or he could see you again.

You’re disgusting.

I know.

You’re weak.

I know.

You’re no better than them.

This one hurt because the voice was right. He wasn’t.

This should have been easy, but that didn’t stop the way his heart hurt at the thought of becoming invisible to you once again. For once, can’t he be happy?

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You had to admit it was silly. For the next few days you looked around everywhere for the inspiration for that amazing dream you had. Part of you knew it was wishful thinking, but you were hopeful that maybe Jimin was somebody you knew.

You knew it was silly but that still didn't stop you from looking everywhere you could for Jimin. You checked the internet, you looked around your job, you shamelessly visited restaurants hoping maybe you might spot him.

Each time you were disappointed. It wasn’t just during the daytime, but when you went to sleep as well. Your eyes would close and all that would happen was darkness. No Jimin, no dreams, no nothing..

Maybe it was even more silly in the fact that you wanted to believe you made a promise with someone to see each other again. It was just a dream, you needed to get over it.

Just as you were about to finally put Jimin behind you, you went to bed one day and you were shocked to open your eyes to find you were sitting underneath that same tree. That same endless green field surrounded you, and you were still wearing that same white sundress without shoes.

You looked around confused for a second before you saw him. Your eyes widened. He was just as graceful as you'd expect an angel, but you still found yourself starstruck as you watched him fly in right beside you.

Jimin had the same smile you couldn’t forget.

“I’m sorry things got cut short and it’s been a little while since I came. I had some things I needed to figure out, but as I promised, I’m back.” You were stunned but your heart couldn’t feel fuller knowing he was here with you again.

You got up next to and your body acted on its own as you went in for a hug.

“I missed you.”

Jimin wrapped his arms around you.

“I missed you too…”

He didn’t even really give you much more time to think before he was suddenly picking you up bridal style.

“I also promised that I would fly you around sometimes~ Is that ok? I have a surprise waiting for us…” You could tell he was nervous. It was ironic, the girl scared of heights ends up with the flying angel. You weren’t going to let it get in the way.

“If you drop me, I’ll kill you.” You tightened your grasp around his neck.

“Trust me~”

And with that Jimin flapped his wings and suddenly the ground was getting farther and farther away. The longer you looked the more the tunnel vision started and you felt your palms turn sweaty, in a haste not to panic your attention turned toward Jimin who looked ethereal. You didn’t realize it before but he looked a little different, no longer was his hair that same dark brown, but white streaks were running right through it. His eyes too, not the light brown you couldn’t help but be captivated by but an enchanting blue you could get lost in.

This man was so fucking beautiful.

Your attention changing to him worked out for the better, because before you knew it you made it past the clouds, and the view was spectacular. The clouds below looked like waves all being pulled toward the fiery orange ball ahead. The sky was lit up with so much color, and all of that was reflected off the clouds creating an experience unlike any other. It was beautiful.

“You know I’ve never flown with someone else before…” Jimin said suddenly. He noticed your weary look, especially in the fact he was mentioning this while you’re this high up off the ground.

Jimin chuckled and held onto you a little tighter. “I didn’t mean it like that~ This is just different. I’ve never done this before.” It was extremely different. Anytime else he’s just been transporting souls to get judged, but you were here, you were still alive. He held you in his arms instead of the distance that he’d always need to put. It’s intimacy he didn’t know he craved for so much till now.

“Jimin if you drop me—“

“I wouldn’t do that… did you want me to save you?” He teased and you somehow managed to tighten your grip.

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“I don’t know, seems to me like you wanna play damsel in distress~”

“Jimin you better not…” Your words gave him an idea. Oh he might be a little evil.

Jimin stopped and helped move you so your legs were wrapped around his waist and you were facing him. He noticed your panicked expression.

“What are you doing?—“ You looked at him worried, already having a feeling this wasn’t going to be good. You could see the devious smirk on his face.

“Just hold on tight… I promise never to let go. Focus on me.” You hardly had any time to process what he said before Jimin let his wings relax and he pulled you closer as you both started falling straight for the ground.

You screamed and you couldn’t even look as you made it past the clouds and the ground was getting closer. You held on with all your might and buried your face in his chest.

It was mean, he knew it was. He did it to tease you and nothing more but…

The wind rushed past you both hurriedly but time seemed to move slowly for him.

Jimin wasn’t looking at the ground whatsoever, you in his arms clinging onto him made him feel a way he couldn’t quite understand. Your hair was flying up, the sun painted your features. You were so beautiful. From this angle you looked like the angel.

Was this real? You with him.

You were so scared and when you clinged onto him for a sense of protection. Did you really think of him that way? Feelings were still something he was getting used to. Before he met you, watching you from afar, he thought those emotions were a lot, but now right here in this moment he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jimin was struggling to keep up. It never occurred to him how dulled down his emotions had been this entire time, every moment he’s spending with you made his life seem so gray before, like he could finally see.

Jimin wrapped his wings around the both of you, wanting to have you as close as possible. A hug unlike any other. His wings were so sensitive, feeling you against him… so many new emotions that were too intense…

And when he knew that this comforted you…

Your eyes were squeezed shut, waiting for this nightmare to come to an end when suddenly you weren’t feeling the wind rush past your face, you finally allowed yourself to open your eyes.

You looked up at Jimin who was smiling down at you. You also noticed the wind blown look to his hair. You looked around you and you were shocked to find you were back in the clouds.

Somehow the both of you were standing on a cloud, an extremely romantic dinner table had been set up in the center, and that beautiful sunset overlooked the both of you.

What just happened?

Jimin pulled you into an embrace. His hand going down, playing with the hem of your dress before trailing up your side and cupping on your cheek. Your eyes focused on his.

For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, you honestly wanted him to, but you saw it. The conflict. You didn’t understand it, but whatever turmoil was going on, it made him put his hands down and put some distance between you.

“Uh surprise!” He held up his hands to the candlelit dinner. He was flustered, you saw how red his face was and it only made you wonder what made him stop, but you weren’t going to push.

“Surprise?!” You screamed. You noticed even more how disheveled he looked and you didn’t even need to look to know how much of a mess you looked like right now.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You tried fixing your hair, but it was probably no use.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t expect him to sound so serious.

“That wasn’t part of the surprise at all. I was hoping it would be a bit more romantic, but you were scared. I’m sorry.” No laughs, no teasing, he was serious. It almost made you feel bad. Almost.

“You’re just lucky we didn’t die.” You sighed, still trying to fix yourself.

“I wouldn’t let that happen, never. I got carried away.”

Ok now you were starting to feel a little bad. This was a dream, that’s all this was, there was no point in getting mad at him. You knew you were back in your bed in your room, you really weren’t plummeting 50,000 feet.

“No more life threatening situations, ok?” You saw him smile and he nodded.

Jimin guided you toward the table and you were finally able to see how amazing this surprise was. Jimin had really taken the time to set up a dinner for you in the clouds.

Little lights decorated the clouds that surrounded the table, twinkling the little stars. The clouds themselves formed a little pavilion, with a few columns that were decorated with intricately placed vines. That didn’t stop you having the perfect view of the sunset. The plates, utensils, and the candleholder were all gold just like the sun with intricate designs across their edges. You could even smell the delicious dish he prepared.

If that wasn’t enough to win you over, suddenly beautiful harmonies of string instruments playing the perfect music for setting the mood started filling the space Jimin had set up. You looked over and saw that a little orchestra had been sent up, the golden instruments letting the music take over and they played themselves.

It was something straight out of a fantasy.

You were shocked. Your attention had turned to Jimin, who you were surprised had changed completely. No longer was he in that same outfit you had met him with the first time, but a white suit fitted his form carefully. It had gold accents with a little angel broach connected by a chain to the pocket. He has even put on a tie. His hair now was styled perfectly once again, bangs framing his face and the ends curled at the base of his neck, with the white highlights still running through it.

He looked perfect, this location was perfect, despite this the smile he held on his face and his posture was awkward. He seemed nervous.

“I hope you like everything. I thought it would be fun to have a date fit for royalty. I hope I didn’t overdo it, I know this is just our second time meeting, but I wanted to make up for last time and you said you wanted me to impress you so I thought I had to do something big—” To be honest you had a hard time understanding him, he was speaking so fast. Ok you were right, he was definitely nervous.

It was painstakingly adorable.

“And tonight I really wanted to be perfect but I already started ruining it. Anyway I knew you always had a fantasy of something like this when you were younger and… wait that doesn’t sound good, but I just wanted to surprise you—“ He was rambling. You somehow managed to make an angel nervous for your reaction.

You shushed him with your finger.

“Jimin this is amazing, how could anyone not like this?!” You started walking around and you were reminded that you were in fact somehow standing on a cloud.

“But it’s you, I wanted to make sure this was perfect for you.” Jimin’s face was starting to get a little red.

“This is more than perfect…” You thought he was crazy for thinking there’s any chance you wouldn’t find this jaw dropping.

“Heyyy…”

“I’m serious Jimin, like you even took the time to pick out one of my own fantasies?!” Like he said and you knew, this was an old want. You had been a teenager, angsty on the outside, but a secret romance lover on the inside. At the time you thought it was a little silly, being with a prince while you danced the night away, but look at you now. It wasn’t looking so stupid anymore.

Jimin looked like he remembered something before he reached into his coat jacket and pulled out a thin, sparkly wand. “To complete the fantasy~…” He smiled before waving it above your head. You watched as the little sparkles trickled over you, you twirled, turning your sundress into a long crystal gown fitting your figure perfectly. A mirror had also appeared in front of you and the disheveled mess was gone, your hair perfectly styled, your makeup better than anything you could do in real life, and to top it all off you noticed the tiny golden tiara that sat on your head.

This boy for real gave you a Barbie transformation. He made you a princess.

You turned toward Jimin, completely stunned and ready to jump on him at this point with praise but you were shocked to find him red again. His eyes trailed over your figure before fixating on the particularly low neckline of the dress.

You smirked.

“Ooo, did my angel do this on purpose?” You teased and you were shocked to see him get even redder. Oh this is fun.

“No I—“

“You’re the one with the magic wand here.” Oh you were making it worse.

“But the dress is pretty so all horny angel activity is forgiven~ If anything I’ll take it as a compliment.” You spun around a little more in the mirror and admired the way the crystals sparkled and shimmered in the light.

“I’m glad you like it…” He couldn’t even defend himself because it was true, every word of it. He wanted to give you a dress but he may have gotten a little carried away in some areas.

In a hurry to change the subject, Jimin forgot his own costume wasn’t even complete yet.

You looked over when you saw the faint golden glow and was shocked to see a ring hovering above his head. You couldn’t help but marvel at the detail, little intricate patterns etched into metal, casting a heavenly glow over Jimin.

“I’m not a prince but I thought this would be fitting~” He smiled.

At this point you were speechless.

Jimin giggled, happy that you were enjoying this.

“If that’s the case then I’ll take it from here then~” He grabbed your hand and led you to the table. You couldn’t help but marvel as you both walked, the way the ring seemed to follow him.

Like the gentlemen that he was, he pulled the chair out for you before taking his own seat across the table.

“And the main course is…” He pulled open the top to reveal a bucket of fried chicken. He could sense your shock.

“Didn’t wanna make it too fancy, besides I think you know how much you wanted some today~~~” At first when he planned the surprise he wanted to feed you a feast, one fit for royalty, but he knew this is what you wanted.

“You know me so well” You smiled.

This night was perfect.

You both chatted and laughed over your chicken and beer dinner. Just like the last time you saw him, the conversation was so natural. Of course it would be, you were basically talking to yourself, a figment of your brain’s delusions, but in the moment it didn’t feel like that. You were happy, so happy. You weren’t even surprised when you felt your heart flutter a couple of times. Jimin just made it all so easy, you’ve only met him twice but feelings were just so easy with him. For once you didn’t think about it too much and just let your heart feel what it wants.

This was a dream. You were going to enjoy it.

It got even better when suddenly he took your hand and led you away from the table, the player less instruments played a waltz, and you were dancing. His hand around your waist, your eyes trained to each other as you glided across the dance floor. The sun by now had set, stars twinkling high above the sky, and in the background was a view that would have knocked anyones breath away, but that’s not what you were looking at.

Jimin. The whole time you couldn’t take your eyes away from him.

Even when you awoke later that night, the sun was high into the sky and you were smiling like an idiot. He had promised he’d see you tomorrow.

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#bts #btscreatorscorner #jimin #angst #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #jimin angst #angel au #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts jimin #bts au #bts fluff #bts reactions #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #fluff #bangtanbathhouse

[andawaywego]

If you’re still taking prompts, can I make a suggestion? Could you maybe write one about Jamie being busy starting up the leafling (or something) and Dani feels a little neglected so she buys something sexy to get Jamie’s attention.

so i actually had a few prompts for Dani buying lingerie. i guess we were all thinking it, huh? this kinda got away from me, but i hope you like it! smutty smut ahoy.

..

Valentine’s Day, Jamie is learning, is one of the most brutal holidays there is; at least, it is when you own a flower shop. Two years in and it’s a hard lesson. Tiring, even. Exhausting. The orders start pouring in starting about a week out and then it’s practically nonstop until the whole thing is over.

Last year, it felt like they got through it by the skin of their teeth. By the end of it, she and Dani had gotten so good at communicating a lot of information quickly—order sizes, specifics, pickup times—that they’ve almost become mind readers. At least when it comes to each other.

This became especially useful once they hit wedding season that same year and Jamie only realizes how much she’s come to rely on this anomaly once she’s without it.

On Valentine’s Day this year, Dani is sick and at their apartment resting and Jamie is forced to finish everything up on her own. It could be worse, she thinks, because the timing is at least a little less suffocating than it may have been if she’d had to send Dani home early the day before. The only business she’s really had all day were customers coming by to pick up their orders or last-minute love day stragglers coming in to buy whatever she had left.

It could be worse. Really it could.

By the time she closes things up, the whole shop sort of looks like someone took a large vacuum to it, sucking up just about all the plant life from the displays and walls. It looks sort of like a ghost town. Jamie briefly imagines a tumbleweed rolling by. Locks the door behind herself. Turns her feet towards home.

She worries as she walks, the complex where they live only a few blocks from the shop itself. Wonders if maybe she should stop somewhere and get some soup for Dani or something, and then remembers that it’s Valentine’s Day and decides to avoid going to a restaurant.

She can always come back out and brave the headache later. Right now, she’s mostly focused on getting home to check on her girlfriend.

The apartment is quiet when she steps inside. It isn’t as if she was expecting any different, but it still catches her off guard. Only the lamp by the sofa is clicked on, meaning that the rest of the space is shadowed in darkness. The radiators by the window hum and it’s a little too hot—buildings like this, she’s learned, don’t know the meaning of “happy medium.” They spend the summers fanning themselves like southern church ladies and the winter much the same. Fall is reserved for wearing too many layers as they wait for the building manager to decide to turn on the radiators.

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. Keeps her boots on for now even though Dani hates that in case she ends up having to go back out. Heads toward the hallway, toward the bedroom, where she assumes Dani must be resting. Walks slowly to keep the floorboard-squeaking to a minimum.

It isn’t until she passes by the bathroom that she hears it: the music drifting gently from the bedroom. A soft drum beat and a voice singing. She doesn’t immediately recognize the song, too busy wondering why Dani is listening to music while she rests. Gives up on tip-toeing and just hurries the rest of the way.

And then, well—

Hot and stuffy in the apartment from the radiators, sweating a bit in her shirt right at the small of her back, and a shiver still trembles through Jamie’s body when she steps into the bedroom, when she sees what’s waiting for her.

“Hey,” says Dani, perched at the bottom of the bed and smiling in that way Jamie knows she only does when she is very, very nervous.

“I thought you were sick,” says Jamie.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted some time to set all of this up.”

All of this being the record she’s got playing from the stereo in the corner of the room, the candles she has lit on top of the television and on the table next to her side of the bed, and, most importantly, what she’s wearing.

Her makeup, her hair, decked out like every single fantasy Jamie’s ever had and never before let herself consider. Worst of all: she’s wearing lingerie. Purple lingerie. Purple lingerie that hardly leaves anything to the imagination. Jamie swallows so hard it hurts a little.

And she’s seen Dani naked before. Of course, she has. Plenty of times. She’s seen her in nice underwear that matched the bra she had on a handful of times, too. But this is different. Lovely on her or not, those things were still functional as undergarments. And this? This isn’t.

This is see-through lace and long, smooth legs. It’s ruffles and a short-sleeved silk robe that’s hanging off her shoulders just enough to make Jamie’s mouth water.

This isn’t functional. This was designed to cause the exact reaction that it has; this was designed to be taken off.

Dani rolls her shoulders back and flutters her eyelashes in a way that should be silly, but only succeeds in making Jamie’s blood race more thoroughly through her veins. “You’re staring,” she says, playing innocence so well that Jamie almost feels guilty about her inability to tear her eyes away.

Except Dani bought this at some point just for the sole purpose of sitting on their bed looking like that. She did that knowing full well that Jamie wouldn’t be able to keep from eyeing the curves and sways of her, the pale skin and soft lines of her jaw and neck. Wouldn’t be able to want anything more than to press Dani back into their mattress and cover every inch of her, lace and all, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands, and—

“Yeah,” she says. “I am.”

“Something the matter?” asks Dani, so utterly dedicated to this flirtatious act of naivete.

“No, I’m good. Perfect.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yep.” Jamie turns to glance at the record player as “All Out of Love” comes on. “Cheery song.”

Dani’s act falters. She blushes. “I didn’t know this was on here. It’s...new.”

Jamie frowns and walks over to the record player, reaching for the unfamiliar album sleeve. “Oh? What is it?”

She feels almost guilty for knocking Dani off her game, but she’s so desperately starved for context, for anything concrete to grasp onto so that she doesn’t just pounce, that she just waits for an answer. As it turns out, she doesn’t need one; the cover speaks for itself.

“Wait,” she says, looking it over. “Is this…?”

“You’re not allowed to laugh,” says Dani, pointing at her sternly.

Jamie smiles. “Not laughing. I just can’t believe you actually bought this.”

“The commercials were very convincing!”

“Did you actually call the place?” is her next question because she can’t imagine her girlfriend calling some commercial-boasted number to buy a four-record album named Secret Love just for this occasion. Jamie usually has to call and make her doctor’s appointments for her.

Dani blinks. “No,” she says. “I sent them a check.”

Jamie grins. Can’t help it. Loves Dani so very much at this moment. “Just one payment of $19.95?” she teases and it works: Dani smiles, too, looking less nervous by the second.

“It’s a good deal, you know,” she says.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“You had a tone.”

“I did not have a tone.”

“Sure you did.”

Jamie isn’t actually sure how she’s managing to control herself anymore. That silk robe slipping off Dani’s shoulder looks so enticing; she wants to press her mouth to the skin it’s left uncovered. Wants other things, too—so many she can hardly decide where to start.

She sets the album back down and takes a few, slow steps towards her girlfriend. Still too far, but closer. “You went to all this trouble,” she says, “for me?”

Dani’s expression softens and she gets to her feet, moving closer. “Yeah, Jay. I did. We’ve just been...so busy lately, which is great! Don’t get me wrong! But...you’ve had so much on your plate and it’s stressful and I didn’t want us to...not get a Valentine’s Day. You know?”

Jamie isn’t sure what there is to say to that except for: “I love you.”

Another step forward and then Dani is grabbing her hands. “I love you, too,” she says, hypnotizing in this outfit, in this lighting, all the time. Her gaze sticks to the pale skin visible through the lace at Dani’s waist, so distracted that she hardly notices when she’s being turned around and pushed back toward the bed, gently guided by Dani’s hands on her shoulders to sit down on the mattress.

The mattress isn’t very tall, which means that, when Dani sinks to her knees, she’s only really a head shorter than Jamie. Her palms run up Jamie’s trouser-covered thighs, fingers curling around them a bit to guide them open a bit so that she can slide her body between them, get closer. Her body is fever-hot and Jamie has the sudden thought that she may not make it out of this surprise alive.

Dani has a knack for making her feel like she’s two seconds from a heart attack every time they’re intimate already. Now she’s wearing lingerie and looking at Jamie like that and Jamie doesn’t know where to put her hands, or where to settle her eyes.

The swell of Dani’s breasts is enticing, so she looks it over for a bit, and then there’s her freckled collarbones, the sleek and taut muscles of her neck. Her pink lips. Jamie feels hot, sweating in her clothes from the heat of the radiators.

Dani looks up at her, blue and brown eyes bright and eager beneath the flutter of her eyelashes. Normally, Jamie would be filling the air with mindless, nervous chatter, trying to calm herself down before the main event, but it feels different this time. The silence, save for the gentle croon of another sappy love song coming from the record player, seems sacred. She doesn’t want to break it for anything.

She curls her fingers in the ends of Dani’s hair, brushing it behind her shoulders, and then Dani is leaning up and she’s leaning down and they’re kissing. Dani’s hands fist the fabric of Jamie’s shirt right at her hips and Jamie cups her face and cranes her neck, and it’s too fucking hot. They should open a window. But Dani’s kisses are hungry and eager and there’s this knot of pain in Jamie’s chest because of it, so she doesn’t dare break away.

Instead, she lifts one of her hands and curves her fingers around Dani’s breast, pushing her palm against it to make the rough lace fabric brush against her nipple. Feels it poke up against her skin a bit and Dani’s answering moan vibrates her lips, flicking her tongue out to tickle the roof of Jamie’s mouth. Jamie scoots forward on the bed to be closer and lifts her other hand to do the same with Dani’s neglected breast.

“Jamie,” Dani pants as she rips her mouth away, eyes clenched shut, “this is supposed to be about you.”

Jamie smiles. “Trust me,” she says,“it is.”

Dani’s eyes open. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

A long look of consideration. Jamie momentarily stops her movements at Dani’s chest. And then Dani unbuttons her trousers and starts tugging at them, saying, “Get these off. That’s what I mean.”

Jamie takes them off. Her shirt, too. Drops each of them to the floor carelessly, too eager for the next part to worry about where they land. In all the rush, Dani begins to slip the silk robe from her shoulders, but Jamie stops her with a shake of her head.

Says, “Leave it on,” with the sort of breathlessness that makes Dani smile.

She leaves it on.

Jamie brushes her thumb against Dani’s nipple and then trails her fingers up the bony press of her sternum. Cups her jaw and cranes her neck down to kiss her, hot press of lips together and Dani gasping into her mouth.

Wanting to be closer in a way this particular position won’t allow, she breaks away from the kiss and guides Dani up by the shoulders until she is sliding her knees onto the mattress on either side of Jamie’s thighs, straddling her. She rolls her hips down and now Jamie can feel the fabric covering Dani’s body against her own skin. Fears she’ll go mad from desire before she can do anything about it.

It’s cooler in just her underwear, certainly, but that doesn’t mean the friction of their bodies together isn’t creating a fine layer of sweat between them. Their legs slide together and Jamie is so wet, so ready, that it’s beginning to hurt a little.

She kisses Dani’s neck and slides her lips up to the corner of her jaw, to her earlobe. She nibbles a little, then scrapes her teeth down to her neck again. Nips at her pulse point then smoothes it over with her tongue. Dani curses against her hair, breath a hot spread across Jamie’s scalp as she rolls her hips down.

A moment later, her hand is working its way inside Jamie’s panties, fingertips brushing against her clit very lightly and it’s Jamie’s turn to curse.

“Fuck.”

Dani smiles, kisses her forehead. “Doing okay?” she asks, that impersonation of complete chastity back in her voice, in her lips, the way her head tilts flirtatiously as Jamie meets her eyes.

“Doing great,” Jamie manages through gritted teeth. She is fighting back the urge to simply reach between them and push Dani’s hand against her harder. She drops her head and presses her lips against one of Dani’s nipples through the lace, mouthing at it hotly and making Dani sag against her, a little boneless, with a moan.

Payback, she thinks, is definitely a bitch.

She can be one, too.

She grips Dani’s hips in that tight, fierce way that Dani likes—thinks it must be at least a little painful, but maybe that’s why Dani likes it—and rolls up into her hand in a way that pushes the back of it between Dani’s own legs.

“Jay,” breathes Dani, and her expression is purposefully seductive, playful even as she is genuinely reacting to Jamie’s movements. She flutters her eyelashes with the best of them and she is the only woman Jamie’s ever been with that can make her go mad just by smiling at her. “Lie back.”

Jamie doesn’t understand the order at first, can’t wrap her head around it because Dani’s fingers are circling her clit now. It isn’t until that hand pulls away and Dani gets back, slowly, to her feet to give her room that she gets it. It feels like every part of her is positively vibrating as she uses her hands to slide back and back. Lowers herself to the mattress all the way and tilts her chin down so she can watch her girlfriend climb up her body in this ridiculously erotic and mind-numbing way.

“God, how are you not naked yet?” she asks, pressing her lips to Jamie’s breastbone, dipping down to tongue at the edge of her bra.

“How are you not fucking me yet?” Jamie returns, just to see Dani’s reaction—the way her cheeks go even pinker, the way she blinks in surprise at her sudden vulgarity.

She swallows thickly. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“Not when you look like that it’s not.”

Dani tugs the left cup of Jamie’s bra down and ducks her head to hide the way her expression changes, lips curling around Jamie’s nipple. Jamie can feel her smiling. “Like what?”

“You’re a tease, you know that? You’re such a bloody tease.”

Her mouth moves down to Jamie’s ribcage. “Would you like to lodge a formal complaint?” she asks.

Jamie curls her fingers into her girlfriend’s hair and cranes her neck to get a better look at her in that damned lingerie. “If you don’t touch me soon then yeah, I would.”

She feels the blunt edge of Dani’s teeth below her belly button, scraping down to the waistband of her panties. “Your request has been noted,” says Dani, her voice even and sort of mockingly robotic. “Please allow three to four business for—”

Jamie’s laugh cuts her off, fingers combing through her hair until Dani finally lifts her eyes to look at her again. “Dani, I love you,” she says.

“I love you, too.”

“But you have to do something, or I’m going to—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dani catches the edge of Jamie’s panties between her teeth and begins to pull them down like that, laughing around the material as Jamie wiggles and shifts her hips, giggling like a maniac, to try and help. Eventually, hands are required to finish the job. Jamie isn’t actually sure what Dani was thinking.

Goofy, ridiculous Dani. She’s the only woman Jamie’s ever loved, the only woman she’s been able to laugh in bed with, and she went out and bought sexy lingerie, called a number from a commercial to get the proper mood music, sat here on their bed on Valentine’s Day to surprise her.

Jamie doesn’t understand her life, doesn’t understand how she could possibly ever deserve this.

Once her panties are all the way gone and Jamie is naked, save for her bra, Dani’s eyes linger between her legs, a loose smile fixed on those pretty lips. “There you are,” she says.

“There I am,” Jamie exhales, shakily. “Now—”

She should be expecting it, but she isn’t, and so Jamie makes the most embarrassing sound ever when Dani’s tongue first makes contact. An electric shock between her legs, a match being struck, and she arches a little too much off the bed, one of her arms going back so she can comb her fingers through her own hair. Slams her eyes shut to keep from coming almost immediately—this won’t be her only chance, she’s sure of it, but she wants this first one to last—and then has to look, so she opens them back up.

And Dani is always a sight between her legs like this, but she’s on her knees and bent down in a way that makes her breasts hang deliciously, bumping a bit as she licks and curls her lips around Jamie’s clit. Jamie brings her other hand down and brushes her hair out of the way, over her shoulder, so she can see her mouth work.

“Fucking fuck, Dani,” she says, so eloquent with a beautiful woman bobbing between her legs.

Dani hums in response and Jamie can’t help it, groans a little too loudly. That fucking silk robe and the contrast of purple lace to pale skin, blonde hair fisted in her hand, and then Dani brings one of her hands up and slips a finger inside and Jamie feels, very suddenly, like she is splitting apart at every seam that’s ever kept her together.

The sound of Dani fucking her like this is almost obscene. It’s slick and loud, the suction of her mouth audible as she alternates movements against Jamie’s clit. She’s smiling despite how busy her mouth is and then she slips a second finger in, then a third.

It’s so hot, sweat pearling on her chest and forehead. Her hair feels damp at the base of her skull, she feels sort of like she has a fever but everywhere, and fuck—

She nearly bites through her bottom lip as she comes, trying to keep quiet. Her pulse drums like waves on the shore as it whitewashes through her ears, her veins.

Dani pulls back, licking her lips clean sloppily and her eyes are so dark that Jamie feels like she's burning again in moments.

“Come here,” she croaks, propping herself up on her elbows. Hopes that Dani knows what she means.

She must, though, because she doesn’t come up on the side of the bed. Instead, she just straddles Jamie’s waist, giving Jamie a full and uninterrupted view of what she’s wearing again.

“God,” is the next thing she says. Then, “You know how to pick ’em, huh?” as she tugs a bit on the end of the robe.

Dani smiles, somehow shy despite everything else. “You like it then?” she asks, like she has no idea, like she didn’t just fuck Jamie stupid while wearing the sexiest thing to ever exist. “Successful Valentine’s Day?”

Jamie rolls her eyes affectionately. “And the award for Understatement of the Year goes to—”

Dani pushes at her shoulder, giggling. “Hey,” she says. “Give me a break. I stuck out like a sore thumb in the shop I got this from.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, really! Like, three shop girls came over to help me because I was so lost.” She looks so sincerely flustered by this that Jamie can’t help but be endeared by it. “They kept asking me what my ‘boyfriend’—” and she uses air quotes there, “—likes to see me in. What his favorite color is.”

Jamie laughs. “What did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did they say to that?”

“They asked me what my husband likes then.”

Jamie nearly chokes on her tongue from laughing so hard. Almost knocks Dani to the floor, too.

And, yeah, it’s a pretty successful Valentine’s Day.

#damie #damie fic #damie prompt #dani x jamie #thobm #thobm fic #the haunting of bly manor #dani/jamie fanfic #dani/jamie #3k #smut #like #smutty smut

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

#chris evans #chris evans and reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans and yn #chris evans x yn #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans reader insert #hard to love

[it9chi]

jjk characters as quarantine 2020 trends 

tiktok - itadori

look at me in the eye and tell me that itadori didn’t become tiktok famous overnight or after a few dancing videos he became a tiktok sensation. he was an avid tiktok user before quarantine but he took it more seriously when he ended up on his senpai’s fyp once and voila ! a tiktok star ! doesn’t stick to one type of content tho. maybe its the randomness in his videos that made him skyrocket to the top or the fact he interacts w his followers a lot in the comment section and goes on live time to time. no one really knows but hey, u might see a tiktoker out in sendai buying flowers and going to the hospital time to time

baking banana bread everyday - panda

idk why but this just screams panda to me like can u imagine panda disappearing in the middle of the day only to come back with freshly baked banana bread on his hands ready to serve to the few personel and students in jujutsu tech? sounds lovely if you ask me. maki and inumaki legally cannot say that panda smells cs he smells like banana bread okay maybe not like banana bread more like flour but its the thought that counts !

dalgona coffee - fushiguro

its canon that megumi drinks coffee.. black coffee to be exact so isn’t this just perfect for him????? but gojo got him to do this as a whole joke at first like he tricked this poor little boy into making this drink FOR HIM only for gojo to dip and thus leaving this tiring, pain in the ass to make drink to just sit there.. waiting for someone, anyone to drink him. so megumi, out of anger, drank the drink he made for gojo and just fell in love with it LMFAO “you reap what you sow” type beat is what megumi is thinking. he poured his blood, sweat and tears into making this for his sensei only for the said sensei to bail on him lmfao but hey! at least he’s got something to drink that isn’t black coffee anymore!!!

dyeing their hair - nobara

almost fried her scalp off from bleaching it every 2-3 business days after looking at another funky hair color and wanted to try it for herself to see if it fits her and surprisingly it does. she also changes her overall aesthetic a lot which is also a factor why she keeps dyeing her hair LMAFAOFAOF she tried the egirl look for the first month of lockdown but all she got was weird stares from the locals back at the countryside. she’s glad that she’s in tokyo now and no one gives a shit about how you look

became a plant mom - maki

can u imagine the 2nd year gang waking up to like a bunch of plants in their common room or the jujutsu tech common room in general to be filled with plants?? or better yet, imagine walking inside maki’s room to be greeted by a shit load of plants surrounding the entire room. maki names her plants and will smack you if you get one of them wrong. panda says her room reminds him of a jungle but we don’t tell maki that

playing animal crossing - inumaki

doesn’t he strike you as those guys who buys stuff cs its popular idk cs he does. he got his hands on the nintendo switch animal crossing edition first than the fans who waited so long for this to come out. omg inumaki king shit?? no one knows how he did it but alas! he did ! now he gets to play this game all day. maki has to barge in his dorm to tell him to do yk.. basic stuff like eat, take a bath, etc. cs he cannot and will not take his hands off his damn switch

started an online business (selling his preloved stuff) - gojo

u know those instalives or going on live to sell smth yeah thats what gojo does. what does he even sell you ask? some preloved luxury shit of course ! but if people start acting up on his lives and start spamming shit like 

“can i buy you first?”

“the guy with glasses/blindfold talking, mine please!”

then gojo will start acting up. please don’t test him. nobody wants to see him slowly do a thirst trap in the middle of his live. he thinks he’s hot shit but frankly, everyone who knows him just think he’s being stupid. don’t give this man more money than he already has. he already has a big head along with a fat wallet, pls dont feed into his capitalist needs even more but its gojo so maybe opening ur wallet for the likes of him doesn’t sound TOO bad

#jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo headcanons #gojo imagines #itadori headcanons #itadori imagines #fushiguro headcanons #fushiguro imagines #inumaki headcanons #inumaki imagines #nobara headcanons #nobara imagines #maki headcanons #maki imagines #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons

[sableflynn]

Felivy - The Choice

Soooo after a solid week of constant gushing about this au with @whumpopology I decided to try writing a bit of it! I'm uh pretty much completely obsessed with this au at this point, the amount of brainstorming we've done is incredible and soooo much fun.

Very brief context: AU where Felicia and Ivy both end up at Volkan's mean man estate together. The girls bond, Volkan is mean, the teams try to find them. Volkan decides to spice things up, contacts the teams and tells them they can choose one girl to have sent home and he'll keep the other. This is the timeline where they choose Ivy to come home.

cw: drugging, noncon kiss/touch, general noncon implications (none happens), whumper pov. ao3 link here.

---

The girl was strapped into a chair, thick leather cuffs tight on wrists that strained against the imprisonment. Even with the needle still in her arm, the drug coursing through her bloodstream, she fought; she had fought from the moment he first showed her just how he planned to transport her back to her team.

Red, Harrison had called her, for the striking color of her thick curls, but her hair color wasn’t enough to set her apart here. That fighting spirit, though; that was something his healer lacked, a tenacity bordering on feral that kept things interesting in a way Felicia couldn’t. And yet all it took was one wandering touch, one comment dripping with innuendo, one look, and she fell apart. Beneath all her bluster and bravado, Ivy was a scared little girl, and he was happy to remind her of that every time.

Her head began to droop and he thought that was it, until she snapped back to full alertness with fresh fire in her eyes. “You’re—” Her words were slurred, the effort to get them out visible in her face. “You’re fucking sick.”

He smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You should relax,” he said, and just to make sure she couldn’t relax, he leaned over her where she sat, one hand rising to brush strands of hair from her face. “Just let this happen. Next thing you know, you’ll be waking up in your boyfriend’s arms.”

“Nuh—” Despite the determination blazing in her eyes, she shuddered. A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead, and he imagined he could see the drug working its way through her body, slowing her nervous system until she succumbed. Yet she still fought it; she couldn’t not, not with the needle still in her, and the knowledge that there wasn’t a single thing she could do to stop him from taking anything he wanted.

He leaned in for a kiss, and she was still awake enough to snap at him. Pulling back with a grin, he watched the terror dancing in her eyes, drank in the soft hitch of her breath as his hand caressed her cheek before traveling down further. His second kiss dipped lower, lips tracing the curve of her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise until he pulled a weak sob from her. Her pulse was racing beneath his tongue; every touch from him would send the drug through her body faster, which would make her more and more vulnerable to his touch. A delicious feedback loop of her suffering.

He lifted his head to meet her gaze, and the fire he’d seen there moments before was snuffed out. She was breathing heavily, eyes glimmering with unshed tears, mouth working as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t push the words out. He took her in another kiss and she whimpered against him, and god, he was going to miss this. Her fear was so different from Felicia’s, tinged with frustration at her own helplessness, and he could spend months drawing it out, showing her again and again that she was small and weak and nothing. But he had made a deal, and he was a man of his word. Better to leave her a sweet memory to remember him by, then.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he let his hand drift lower, until his thumb fretted with the fastenings of her pants. He hadn’t thought she could become more despairing than she already was, but at that touch she let out another sob, her head shaking weakly, slurring out words that might’ve been stop, please, no, don’t. He didn’t particularly care what they were. Fingers deftly undoing the button of her pants, other hand rising to press a harsh thumb into the bruise he’d kissed into her, he took her mouth in his one more time. She had no resistance left, and his tongue touched hers, his teeth dragging along her lower lip as he tasted her once again.

Her cry left her in a rush of air, and she slid into oblivion.

He studied her face, hands still on her body. In sleep, her features softened, the panic and desperation of moments before dulled to the slightest downward curve of her lips. So different from the wild thing who’d spat blood in his face, laughed under the threat of his knife, fought against him with everything in her. So much more fitting for the weak, terrified girl she became whenever he began to undress her, the lost thing he knew she was deep inside.

Refastening her pants, he took his hands from her body and began undoing the leather cuffs holding her in place. She had somewhere she needed to be, and it wouldn’t do for her to be late.

***

Felicia blinked, and stared at the bare white wall of her room, and fought a losing battle with her emotions.

One of us is going home. Volkan had dropped that bomb on them, and then dragged them off to their separate rooms before they could fully process. Before they could think to ask a single question. Before they could say goodbye.

She couldn’t hope. She couldn’t dare to hope, because if she went home, that would mean Ivy was staying here, and if Ivy stayed here alone she would be dead within the week.

She couldn’t hope, because she wouldn’t be strong enough to survive if her hope shattered and Ivy went home and she was left here, alone, with him.

There was no solution; only branching paths that ended in different flavors of heartbreak. Even when he offered them freedom, he twisted it into a weapon against them. Her heart raged against the unfairness of it all, and she crushed that feeling down, closing herself off, a few stray tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut.

The door to her room creaked open and she gripped the edges of the cot she sat on. He filled the frame, silhouetted against the hallway lights. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, and yet she knew she had to. His expression was unreadable. Maybe she just didn’t want to read it.

“Come with me,” he said, and walked away without waiting for a response. She rose and followed him.

He brought her to his lounge, all dark leather and polished wood and a fire crackling in the hearth. At a gesture from him, she sank into the couch and he poured two glasses of amber liquor, handing one to her. He sat across from her, and in his eyes she saw that look, that fucking look that meant he was savoring the anticipation of breaking her down in some new way, and that was how she knew to prepare herself a heartbeat before he said, “Why do you think they chose her over you?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and willed herself not to feel. From the moment she had woken up in his office, some part of her had always known she was going to die here. This changed nothing. At least Ivy was safe. She could take this.

He gestured at the glass in her hand, the drink within untouched. “Drink. It’ll help you relax.” She stared through him, setting the glass on the table without a word, and he took a sip of his own liquor. “I just want to talk tonight. I know you must have a lot of mixed feelings right now.”

She shifted her gaze to look him in the eye, and his face crinkled with a genuine smile. “I wish I could’ve been there for the discussion,” he mused. “What do you think was the deciding factor? What was it that pushed them over the edge, made them realize that Ivy was worth more than you?”

He wasn’t going to let up. She bit down the urge to say they made the right choice—self-deprecation was only playing into his hands. And she couldn’t do it, couldn’t dwell on what sort of conversation must have taken place, so she said, “I don’t know.”

“No theories at all?” He raised a skeptical brow. “You have no idea what might’ve led your girlfriend to look me in the eye and tell me that she was choosing to leave you here with me in favor of a stranger?”

Elyse. Her face flashed in Felicia’s mind, and shit, a few tears welled up before she could close herself off to the feeling, and then her chest ached with longing and grief and despair, and her fingers dug into the leather of the couch as her breath hitched in a sob, and then another.

Volkan shushed her with a faux-soothing hum, his hand like fire against her skin as he tucked her stray strands of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I know this must hurt.” Through the haze of tears, the smirk on his face was infuriating. “If it helps, I think their choice makes sense.”

“Nothing about this makes sense, and you know that, you—” Now that she’d started, the sobs kept coming, racking her body with shudders. “You know, because you rigged this fucking game from the start, because that’s what you do, you—”

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips as he shushed her this time, and she flinched. “You’re getting emotional. Try to think about this logically. I’m sure your team did when they made their decision.” He sipped his drink again, considering. “Ivy’s a strong girl. A much better fighter. She doesn’t just roll over and submit at the first threat of pain. Although,” and his smile turned mocking, conspiratory, “you and I both know she’s not as tough as she likes to pretend. For a girl with two boyfriends, she sure fell apart quickly as soon as I—”

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about her,” Felicia lashed, stomach churning. Her skin warmed with the memory of Ivy’s touch, the only kind thing about this place. Ivy’s beautiful fierceness as she fought Volkan in every way. Ivy’s smile, and her tears, and her whispered promises in the night. “She’s—she’s so brave, and she’s good, and she’s not going to just leave me here.” Please.

Volkan’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Adorable. She already did.”

The flash of Ivy’s hazel eyes, wide with shock as she was dragged to her own room to wait for a decision to be made. “She didn’t leave. You took her.”

He chuckled. “Technically, you’re correct. Would you prefer she was still here with you?”

“I—” Felicia hated herself, then, for how close she came to saying yes, and she hated him even more for the slight quirk of his lips as he saw the indecision play across her face, as he read her like a book. “I’m glad she’ll be safe now,” she managed at last.

“Safe is a relative term,” Volkan said, setting his empty glass down on the table. “But I’m sure we can both agree she’s in a better place than you are.” He leaned in closer to her, pressing her against the couch, and his arms surrounding her were the jaws of a trap closing in on her.

#whump #lady whump #my writing #my oc: felicia #my oc: volkan #felivy #whumpopology #OBSESSED with this au #there are so many things about it and they're all perfect #the two branching timelines both have so much good angst and whump in them #soooooo many good arguments among the team #i will leave the arguments to april queen of teams arguing lol #i can't even begin to describe the amount of everything in this au #idk it's just so many good feelings good story good characters #thank you april for letting me play with your characters :') #and inspiring me to write always #ou content

[passmethemolly]

reminder + vent

something i've learned over the course of my short writing "career" (if you wanna call it that) is that- for a bunch of writers- we sure do love to focus on the numbers.

i noticed that we count. we count how many words the chapter is, how many likes or kudos it got on what platform, how many comments were left, how many people were talking about it. the problem i have noticed is that everyone is trying to be the next "big thing". the big fish to be caught. the big diamond in a sea of rocks and dust.

truthfully, I've fallen victim to that as well.

all i could see were numbers when i was writing tidal pools and stars. i poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it- spent hours with an aching neck and tense wrists just to feel that rush to read the comments and see the kudos jump up a few digits. it made my writing feel worth it.

it was then i realized that thought alone was the problem.

chasing snowflakes was my first "fuck it" fic. the first fic i publically posted under molly. it was the moment of me saying "fuck it. I'm gonna write and if people read it, cool. if they don't, i don't care its something to do during quarantine."

i took a long break from writing and every single day i missed it, but it was like a rehab of sorts. the more i faded from twitter and ao3, the more i realized that the internet will only deem things as good when it wants to. no one can force a viral hit nor can they force a notice. it was a hard lesson to see happen as i dropped in followers and the kudos and comments stopped- seeing those precious numbers i once craved to have, disappear. but you know? i felt a lot better for a bit.

I'm choosing to write again and, shit, is it hard! that rehab helped, but can you imagine the surprise i felt when i posted my comeback fic and barely anyone batted an eye. some were excited and i hold those reactions dearly, but i started looking at numbers again- it is that easy to be sucked back in.

so, writers who feel discouraged by the starving void that is internet fame and attention, i propose we start writing those fuck it fics. who fucking cares if the plot develops as you go along? who fucking cares if your characters are lazily stolen from a Minecraft roleplay or horror game? use them! who cares!

what makes your writing worth it is you. what makes your writing good and a big hit is you. its hard not to look at the numbers, i know, but the internet moves fast and that is sadly out of our control. write to have fun and because you like the plot and story and love the characters- not because you carefully crafted a tight plot that sounds forced because you are so sure if you write this it would be the next it thing. i realized that the people who did blow up, blew up because 1. the internet decided they were good enough to and look how fast it moved on to the next thing. and 2. they wrote to write. do the same.

write the fuck it fic. im working on mine right now and i hope to see yours soon.

#writing #fanfic #dnf #ikik its not dnf but im a dnf writer #i literally hate how shitty the internet can make you feel #but its addicting as hell and i wont stop using it so #idk just wanted to vent w my experience and this is an excuse to hype myself up for my fuck it fic #ignore spelling and grammar ! did not proofread #writing is supposed to be fun and if its not fun for you #you are doing something wrong #vent

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ close your eyes ✦

this chapter pairing; sub!seokmin x vampire!reader

genre&warnings; vampire!reader, sub!seokmin, dacryphilia(crying kink baybeee)🥴, corruption kink kinda went brrr in this a little, lots of teasing, dirty talk, a little mutual masturbation, tiniest hint of orgasm denial, whiny needy seokmin, allusions to subspace.

he said:

notes; THE-- ☠️ I exposed my crying kink in sdpp so we out here living our best lives now 😗💖 also seokmin being a whiny baby and crying bc everything you do to him is new and just too much for him is so fuckin hot ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ HENNYWAYS, you guys!! I cant believe monster mash is almost at the end, how the hell?!? this went by so fast 😭💕 and thank you for all the love and support on each chapter! even when tumb1r seems to hate me!! Lol, and for those in SoCal, be safe! stay indoors if u can, wear a mask if u have to be outside! And stay hydrated!! I’ll see y’all tomorrow! 🎃 👻 💕

word count; ~2300

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - x - x - x - x - x

you take a drag, i take a sip;

i want your legendary kiss

you know i got designer taste;

and your design’s too good to waste

when the beast comes out at night;

yeah, it always wants a bite

and i try, try to resist;

but then the devil always wins.

Seokmin doesn’t believe in vampires.

He thinks Halloween is fun, but doesn’t believe in ghosts, demons or anything of the sort so he spends the night in; feet propped up on the coffee table as he watches another rerun of another vampire horror flick that he’d seen at least two times prior.

It’d been thankfully quiet for most of the night, despite the pouring rain and periodic thunder claps, but he enjoyed the way it added to the spooky atmosphere of the holiday.

Seokmin scoffs at the TV a few moments later, hand lodged deep in the bowl sitting in his lap. “Vampires aren’t even real.” He mutters.

“Says who?”

The bowl of popcorn in his lap is sent flying, and he acts quicker than he, himself, anticipates. “Who the fuck are you!? How did you get in here!?” His eyes dance over to the front door still locked and momentarily wonders if he left a window open.

He pales, realizing that it’d be impossible anyway.

Seokmin lived on the 17th floor of the building.

“Well!? Fuck---I’m---I’m gonna call the c-cops!” His shaky hands reach for his cell phone on the coffee table as you giggle.

You take a seat on his sofa, picking off a piece of discarded popcorn as you pop it into your mouth. “And tell them what? Exactly?”

“That there’s a psycho in my fuckin’ apartment and that you broke in!” Seokmin holds onto his phone a little tighter, palms clammy. He didn’t even hear the door open. You nod, pretending to think. “Oookay, so what are you gonna tell them when I do this?” You disappear in a puff of smoke and Seokmin feels like he’s going to throw up.

“Wh---”

“Boo!” You whisper from behind him, laughing when he runs roward and trips back onto the sofa. “What the fuck!?” His eyes show panic and confusion, shaky fingers letting go of the phone that was in his hand as it clatters to the floor.

“I--What are y-you? Please, don’t take my soul, it’s all I have left! I swear!”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your throat, doubling over as he watches in fear. “Why are you laughing!?”

“I---you--you’re a funny one!” You wipe a stray tear from your eye as you catch your breath. “No, I don’t want your soul, I just want something to eat, that’s all~”

Seokmin’s eyes only read confusion when he stares back at you. “You want… food?”

“Mmhmm~”

You smile wide and Seokmin finally understands.

Ah. That kind.

He doesn’t know why he agrees. 

Maybe it’s in his kind and innocent nature to believe you won’t suck him dry like a caprisun, but he agrees.

Maybe part of it is curiosity too and maybe part of him feels bad that maybe you haven’t fed in a while, but he introduces himself after you do and he finds himself trusting you a little bit more.

He’s not totally sure why.

“So----So how does this work, do I just---” He cuts himself off as he shakily turns his head to the side. “Wait, how do I know this isn’t a Halloween prank?! Did Jeonghan put you up to this?”

“Oh! Jeonghan, you know him?”

Seokmin’s eyes almost fall out of his skull. This couldn’t be happening. “Are we talking about the same Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Yeah, lanky guy with brown hair, right? Super lethargic?”

Yep. That was Jeonghan.

Seokmin nods slowly, still a little perplexed. “So, why do you know him exactly? He hasn’t replied to my texts for the last three days... You didn’t... do something to him, did you?” You sit next to Seokmin on the sofa and he flinches almost immediately; scooting over a little more to put some space in between you two.

  He wouldn’t admit it right now, but he thought you were really pretty.

“Um, no. He’s out of town and maybe just ignoring you but he lets me feed sometimes, y’know, when he is around. Maybe that’s why I was drawn here, y’know? Familiarity.” Damn.

Seokmin does feel a little bad now; for himself and for you. He bites his lip as the heat rushes to his face. “How---how do you usually, um, d-do it with Jeonghan?” The heat rushes down his body at the same time at his unintentional innuendo. “I mean, no! Not---not that, I meant how you feed! Fuck, sorry!”

Grinning, you’re quick to make your move as you push Seokmin down onto the sofa and straddle his waist.

“Wh--”

The words are caught in his throat as he watches you lean over to the coffee table to pluck out a lollipop from the bowl of candy. You unwrap it, licking it once before you bring it down towards his lips. He shakily parts them, welcoming the cherry flavoured candy into his mouth.

“You see, Seokmin,” You start, hands already roaming down his torso as he moans around the candy. “When people think of vampires, they think vampires just feed whenever, right? Just a quick bite here and they’re done.” He nods. “But that’s no fun~ So some of us like to play a little first, y’know? Get the blood rushing~”

You cup him through his sweats as he whines and he’s quick to thrust his hips up into your touch before he can even think properly.

Oh, fuck! Don’t do that! He tells himself.

A giggle from you is all it takes for him to blush even harder. “It’s okay, Seokmin. I want you to feel good too. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

“Y-yeah… O-okay…” His voice is muffled slightly from the candy still in his mouth, but he allows himself to lean into your touch. In truth, he was a little scared and a little nervous and he knew you could tell.

“Have you ever done anything… with restraints? Or things like orgasm denial?” You pluck the lollipop from his mouth; a thread of spit connecting it to his lips before you bring it to your own mouth. You quickly bite down on the hard candy, breaking it down into small pieces before swallowing. Seokmin grimaces a little.

“Um…” He’d never even heard of orgasm denial before, much less even had a thought about restraints. “...No. I--I’ve only… um… done it twice...”

You grin down at him, eyes flashing red. “Oh, Seokmin… you have so much to learn.”

You like shy Seokmin.

Maybe even a little too much.

“A-ah, no… no more t-teasing, I--ah!” He lets out a choked sob, hips thrusting up as you continue to tease the head of his cock. You move frustratingly slow and you don’t even bother to wrap your whole hand around him, instead just rubbing your palm across the tip as the tears pool up in his eyes.

“I--I don’t---mmh!” Seokmin bites his lip. He’s never felt quite like this before and the feeling was good, but unfamiliar.

“Don’t even think of cumming either~”

“But--” He chokes up again, except this time he can’t stop the tear that slides down the side of his face. You smile down at him, licking your lips.

“You’re so cute when you cry~ So pretty~” You pity him a little so you wrap your hand around his cock, working your hand up and down his shaft as he lets out a shaky breath. He’s unsure of where to put his hands, so he keeps them crossed over his chest, sweater paws keeping his clammy palms contained as he watches you.

“I--p--please, can I c-cum?” He whispers, voice small and slurred. “Nope~”

He lets out a small sob as he tries to blink away the tears.

When you feel him getting close, you pull your hand off of him; easing off of his lap and to the other side of the sofa. Seokmin watches in confusion, sitting up slightly as he watches you slide your panties down your legs. You toss the material at him, laughing when it falls onto his cock.

“We’re gonna play a little game~” He watches with an open mouth as you spread your legs; gulping when you immediately run your precum covered fingers through your wet folds. “We’re gonna touch ourselves just like this, across from each other, and if you can hold off your orgasm for, oh let’s say, 10 more minutes? Then I’ll reward you.”

“And---and if I c-can’t?”

“If you can’t… Hmm~ Then I’ll have to bring my ropes next time~” You wink at him, fingers pinching your clit as you moan out loud. The noise is enough for Seokmin’s cock to twitch and he wraps a shaky hand around himself as he watches you touch yourself from across the sofa. He uses your panties too, covering them in the precum that leaks from the head of his cock. 

It falls into relative silence as Seokmin bites into the neck of his sweater to keep in his high pitched whines and cries. He watches as you sink two fingers into your cunt and he sobs as he thrusts up into the his fist and your panties wrapped around his cock.

This is unfair, he thinks. 

“Mmh Seokmin~ I’m already imagining your cock fucking into me so deep… Ah, my fingers just aren’t enough~” Teasingly, you curl and scissor your fingers inside of your tight warmth, genuinely imagining it’s Seokmin instead. He releases the sweater material from between his teeth, drool dripping from his lips and eyes pooling with tears ready to spill.

“Please, I, hic, I--I can’t h-hold off, hic, I need t-to, hah, c--cum… I--I can’t...”

In a flash, the air is knocked out of Seokmin’s lungs as his back hits the sofa and he’s staring up at the ceiling. His sticky fingers find purchase in the material of his sweater again as you crawl back into his lap. You pry off the soaking panties covering his cock, tossing them to the coffee table as he groans.

You wrap a hand around his leaking cock, moving your hand up and down a few times before you use your thumb and index finger to circle the base as you squeeze hard. “Just a whiny baby boy crying and begging to cum. So cute~”

He squirms underneath you as he tries to get you to do something but you hold steady, fingertips wrapped around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming. “Now now, Seokmin. I’ll let you cum. But you have to be patient~ If you cum without my permission, I’ll make you wait even longer~”

Seokmin nods feverishly, uncaring of what came after. You still hadn’t fed from him too and he could’ve cared less about that.

You let go of his cock as he releases a shaky breath and he watches through foggy eyes as you raise your body until you’re hovering just above his cock. You use your hand to position him right at your entrance and Seokmin lets out a sharp whine when you drop yourself down onto his cock in one fluid motion.

“A-ah, fuh--fuck!”

Your pussy is warm, wet and tight and Seokmin is really fighting a losing battle at this point.

He cries quietly, hips canting up to meet you bouncing in his lap.

“Mmh~ Seokminnie crying making me so fuckin’ wet~ Ah~ I’m gonna cum soon too~”

His head is fuzzy and every new sensation makes his body react in a way he never knew it could. The tears blur his vision but he can already feel his cock twitching and body tensing up slightly; a telltale sign that he was already close.

“I, hic, please…” He slurs out, already too far gone. His body felt weightless; a slight floating feeling overcoming him as he continued to fuck up into you. 

Your eyes flash crimson and you pry one of his arms away from his clothed chest, pushing the sleeve back as you kiss his wrist.

“Okay Seokmin~ I want you to cum, baby boy. Let me feel your cock throbbing and filling me up with your warm cum~”

Seokmin could die and be happy, thank you’s rolling off of his tongue through choked cries as he finally lets himself go.

The pleasure washes over him after a few more swivels of your hips and he barely even registers the fact you’ve already sunk your fangs into his wrist, too lost in his own bliss. 

You moan against his skin, drinking up just enough to get him lightheaded before you’re lapping up the wound.

Seokmin tasted extra sweet.

Licking your lips, you release his arm as it falls limp next to his body and you immediately bring your fingers down to your clit, rubbing harsh and quick circles on the nub to get yourself to cum.

“Oh, god, Seokmin!” You cry; walls fluttering around Seokmin’s overly sensitive cock as he whines and squirms underneath you.

You ride out your high, hips coming to a stop as you catch your breath above him. Seokmin, on the other hand, feels a little delirious and warm; fingertips twitching at his sides. “Ngh…” He whimpers, unable to even speak with how exhausted he felt.

You lift your hips, cum sliding down Seokmin’s cock as he groans in oversensitivity. “Ah~ Look at how much cum you spilled in me, Seokminnie~” His bleary eyes watch as you let the cum slide out of your pussy and right over his cock and he almost, almost hates the way his cock twitches as the sight.

Sitting back on his thighs, you watch him bask in his post-orgasm glow; smacking your lips as you reach for another lollipop from the coffee table. “So~ How did you like it?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice when you visibly see his cock twitch.

His throat feels dry, that’s all he knows. 

Seokmin’s clammy palms slide back into his sweater paws, pressed tight against his chest again as he gently leans up. You can’t help but smirk at his appearance; puffy red eyes from crying and cheeks stained with drying tears with his cock still curving up to his abdomen covered in his own cum.

“I---s--so what’re you g-gonna teach m-me next…?”

#sub!seokmin #seokmin smut #dk smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin scenarios #seokmin imagines #dk imagines #dk scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #sub!svt #sub!seventeen #monstermash!svt #dk #seokmin #sub!dk

[aseioh]

Of Stars and Moonlit walks pt.2/?

Notes: Some housekeeping first. Donna for the purpose of this story will be based partly on her unused content from the game as well as some canon info. This means that she has a darker background than the one that was used in the game proper as I would really like to incorporate those into this story.

Another thing is that as you’ve probably read from the previous chapter. The characters here are slightly out of character, I’m afraid this is entirely my problem as I’m not used to writing stories

----

Chapter 2: Dinner with a show

Dinner with the Dimitrescus’ was never a quiet affair, in fact it is the very definition of a happy family dinner. The three daughters vying for their Mother’s attention, retelling their afternoon adventures. Alcina sitting at the head of the table patiently listening to everything her daughters tell her, her smile so much different from the usual smirk or predatory grin she sports during the meetings with Mother Miranda and the other Lords.

It made her look softer; Motherhood seems to suite her like her gloves.

At the back of Donna mind, she remembers her childhood before things went bad. Sunday roast dinners made by Mother, Father sneaking from behind to leave a kiss on her Mother’s cheek. Yes, everything seems so simple back then.

The dining room itself is small and cozy, Donna guesses that this room is where the family usually dines compared to the cavernous dining hall that exits into their courtyard.

Across the table Bela has been silently studying their mysterious guest. Of course she has been joining her sisters retell their afternoon escapades in the garden and how they had manage to scare the new maids. But throughout dinner she has been subtly glancing at Donna.

The women certainly is interesting, so quiet compared to her doll that you would have imagined that the chatty doll is the Lord and the woman is the puppet. But she had listened to her Mother’s lesson unlike her two sisters. She knows who Donna Beneviento is, what the woman is capable of.

What an interesting study, I wonder what is behind that veil.

‘She must be pretty.’ She thought as she swirls the wine in her glass.

“So Angie, wanna play hide and seek? Bet you can’t find us! We’re very good at that game” Daniela challenges Angie. The moment that the youngest sister saw the moving doll she has become utterly fascinated by it.

It was obvious that Angie was the greatest doll Donna possesses, as she has mostly used the doll as an extension of her psyche. That said, the doll seems to be capable of autonomous actions based on the way she flitters around the room inspecting various stuff that catches her attention.

“Ha you’re talking to the greatest hide and seeker! Hehehe, alright. Let’s play” Angie exclaimed hopping up and down Donna’s side.

“she really is one of a kind huh?” Cassandra muses.

“Yes, my Father built and gifted her to me on my birthday, we’ve been inseparable since. When I’ve received my gift from Mother Miranda I’ve decide to share some of my psyche with her. In a way she is an extension of myself, albeit a rather excitable one at that.” Donna explains as she looks on fondly at Angie.

As Alcina stands up from her chair and offers her hand to Donna “Yes well enough of that melancholy dear, shall we retire or will you join me for a short night cap.”

“And girls if you are going to play with Angie make sure that you don’t cause too much noise. God knows we need some rest after today.”

“Yes Mother!” the three answers in unison

“You guys hide, and I’ll seek” Daniela announces as she grins predatorily. The ‘preys’ have already scattered before she even finished her sentence. After counting to ten she proudly bellows “READY or NOT, HERE I COMEEE!!” with that she disintegrates into hundreds of flies intent on ‘hunting’ her preys.

----

Adjourning to another room the two Lords sit in front of a roaring fire. Alcina casually cupping one of her finest vintages, while Donna content on sipping her tea.

“Donna when I asked you to join me for a night cap, I didn’t expect you to drink tea” Alcina chuckles at Donna’s preferred drink.

Donna having removed her veil as she was alone with Alcina responds by standing up and taking the crystal decanter by the table. She pours a fingers worth of aged whiskey into her cup. Smirking she raises her tea laced whiskey to Alcina and gulps down a mouthful.

Seeing this Alcina roars into laughter. “You really can surprise anyone” Wiping a stray tears from her eyes “and that is why anyone who underestimates you meets their end.”

“At that I can only blame them” Donna answers. The two fell into a companionable silence, the silence only broken by the occasional cracking of the fire.

“Tell me Donna, how is your project with Heisenberg. I do hope the man is not running you haggard. I know that it concerns Mother Miranda’s plan but you shouldn’t run yourself to hard. Let Heisenberg sweat a bit”

“Thank you for your concern Alcina, but you shouldn’t worry. Believe it or not Karl and I are very efficient with our work, and yes, I let him do all the heavy lifting. I’m just there when he needs a second opinion on the new ‘soldat’ hardware.” Donna levels Alcina with a grateful smile, who knew that the tallest and blood thirsty Lord of the village have a soft spot for her ‘siblings’.

“Yes, yes I’m just worried that Mother Miranda has been running you ragged. Lord knows she’s been going full tilt with her so called ‘plan’.

“Actually Alcina, may I ask you for a favor?”

“Depends, does it involve the depletion of our whiskey stores?” At that Alcina couldn’t help but give a short chuckle.

“Very funny. But no. I would never deprive Karl of his favorite drink.” Donna shakes her head, pin it to the back of her head ‘Alcina is a funny half-drunk.’

“No, I was wondering if you would allow me to tour your greenhouse. I would love to see your plants and roses.”

“Is that all? Of course, I’ll ask Bela to take you tomorrow. She’s usually the one to tend to my roses, she’s picked up the hobby after reading some books and my roses have never looked livelier.”

“Thank you.”

-----

A knock on the door alerts Donna that her companion for the day has arrived. From what Angie has relayed to her last night, the girls had fun with their game with Angie being declared the ultimate victor followed closely by Cassandra. Apparently being a small doll makes it near impossible to find her inside the huge castle.

“Good morning Donna, shall we go to the greenhouse?” Bela extends her arms towards the hallway as they make their way to the greenhouse.

“You look pretty today Bela! I love your dress, it suits you so much it brings out your eyes!” Angie says as she turns her head to face Bela. Donna who has been carrying Angie had to think hard on not dropping the doll or stop walking.

Bela for her part slightly blushes at the compliment. “You really think so Angie?” Angie enthusiastically nods her head, fearing that it might fall off Donna decides to intervene.

“Angie’s right Bela, you look really beautiful today.” At that Bela’s blush blossoms like one of her Mother’s roses. “Thank you, Angie, Donna”

“I must say though, your hands are beautiful Donna, they look so soft-“ Bela stops herself before she could say more and embarrass herself further. ‘Really Bela, her hands are pretty, Mother Miranda above what are you a child!?’ she chides herself.

Not knowing how to respond to such a compliment herself, Donna instead slows down her walk and whispers, “Thank you, Bela” Although Bela doesn’t seem to hear as she was busy chiding herself.

Thankfully the two arrive at the Castle’s greenhouse without any hitch.

Entering the great building Donna is surprised by the sheer number of plants that the building houses. Exotic plants that can only survive in tropical climates seem to thrive even in their Romanian climate. At the center of place is Alcina’s roses, the bushes so lush its as if each rose were painted there. Truly they were the main attraction of the greenhouse.

“They’re beautiful, and is it true that you yourself tended to these flowers?” Donna enquired as she caresses the petals of a rose amazed at the softness of it.

“Well, yes. I read in the library on the optimal way to care for the roses. I though that I could try my hands on caring for them. To ward off boredom of course, Mother said that we should look for hobbies and stop terrorizing the hired help” Bela explains as she tries not to blush on how Donna touches the plant.

“I don’t think it’s just that Bela. You have a big heart. You’ve managed to grow something from this barren and frozen place. You gave it your time and love and in return, they bloom for you.” Donna says quietly voice soft it’s as if the wind itself is talking.

Bela blushes furiously and is left speechless. ‘this is the third time she’s been made to blush! What the hell Bela get a hold of yourself’.

Donna sensing that she has said too much tries to back paddle. “I’m sorry it’s just how I see here. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

“No thank you Donna, really that’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me.”

Thankfully the awkwardness of the place changes when Cassandra barrels through the greenhouse. “Lady Beneviento, may Angie play with us again? We want a rematch with her. This time we’ll definitely win” She says with fire in her voice.

And even though her sisters have said that she can sometimes gloss over and ‘cannot read the room’, Cassandra knew for certain that something has happened. It might be the blush her elder sister is sporting or the subtle twitch of Donna’s hands.

But there are more pressing matters at hand, a Champion needs to be dethroned. Therefore she filed the weird atmosphere around Donna and Bela for another time.

At the mention of the challenge Angie becomes animated and hops off to run into Cassandra. The three leaves Donna alone to ponder the situation inside the greenhouse.

Perhaps her stay at Castle Dimitrescu would be full of surprises after all.

----

Another note: I’ve also been made aware that Donna may suffer from Agoraphobia. I’m sorry that I haven’t taken that into consideration when writing this story, in this case Donna just suffers from a slight fear of unknown people and will not talk at all if she’s in front of new people (which won’t technically happen in this fic)

#resident evil village #re8 village BelaDonna #donna beneviento #bela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Of Stars and Moonlit walks

[the-great-bbe]

Ready or Not!

Rhaenys crawls under her father’s bed. Mama was quite clear: they were playing hide and seek, and Rhaenys needed to hide her best from all the men looking for her. She stifles a giggle into her little hands. After the count of ten—ready or not, here they come!

or a quick little fanfic, about our favorite game of hide and seek :)

Lyrics of “The Hide and Seek Song” copyright by Headquarters Music.

Who wants to play a game? It’s time for hide and seek!

--

Mama kisses Rhaenys’s forehead. Egg sleeps in his cradle, despite all the noise coming from outside. It sounds scary out there, but Rhaenys is safe with Mama and Egg. Mama will never let anything bad happen to her, not even the nightmares that scare Rhaenys in the middle of the night.

“Let’s play a game, my sweet.” Mama’s hands are shaking, and her voice is high pitched. But everything must be fine, because they’re going to play a game. And not just any game, but hide and seek! “Listen carefully. Many men will try and find us, but we can’t be found by anyone. When the game is over, I’ll come get you myself, do you understand? You must hide very well, not even Balerion can find you.”

Rhaenys nods. “I’m good at this game, Mama! I’ll hide forever and ever and then we’ll have honey cakes after dinner.” Maybe if Rhaenys hides the best she can, Mama will let her have two entire honey cakes!

Mama kisses her again, and hugs her so tight that Rhaenys squeaks against her shoulder. “My little sunshine, I love you so much. Now hide. Hide!”

Rhaenys scurries off. Mama is really worried even if she didn’t say so. This game must be very important—perhaps Grandfather is playing too, even though he never plays games. So where should she hide? Maybe behind the barrels in the wine cellar, or in the gardens? No, beneath Papa’s bed! No one ever goes in his room anymore, and the space is so small that only she and Balerion can fit!

She tiptoes up the stairs, and closes the bedroom door so that it’s almost shut but not entirely. Closed doors are more suspicious in hide and seek, after all. Then she tucks herself beneath the bed, and arranges the heavy bedspread so that it’s not wrinkled. Rhaenys shimmies to the very edge of where the bedframe meets the wall, and waits.

She waits, and waits. She almost wants to go back and ask Mama for how long they’re supposed to play, and how many players. But instead she wiggles with anticipation. Mama was quite clear: they were playing hide and seek, and Rhaenys needed to hide her best from all the men looking for her. And Rhaenys is the very best at hiding! She stifles a giggle into her little hands. After the count of ten, or maybe a hundred—ready or not, here they come!

Rhaenys spies a shadow by the almost-closed door, and holds her breath.

-- Run, run, run! Time to run and hide!

Run, run, run! And now I’m going to find you, scurry off into the darkness.

Hurry, I’m behind you!

Don’t you speak! Hide and seek!

--

“Myrcella! Myrcella, where are you?”

Myrcella bites her lip. Joffrey is no good at being a seeker, he gets too angry and starts shouting for her and the servant children. And of course the servants come out, and Joffrey is so mean when he catches someone! But not Myrcella—she is the very best at this game, and she would rather fall asleep beneath this dusty old bed than let Joffrey win.

Mother tells her to let Joffrey win, to keep him from throwing a tantrum, but Uncle Tyrion says that it’s good for even the Crown Prince to be told no every now and then. She sniffles. One of the serving girls showed her this hiding spot, saying that no one ever looks under here since it’s so deep in Maegoir’s Holdfast and who can fit beneath a bed anyway?

Why does the Hand even have this room—maybe this is where Lady Lysa is supposed to sleep, instead of in Lord Littlefinger’s rooms. Myrcella isn’t supposed to know about that, of course. But she knows a lot. She knows that Joffrey isn’t going to be a very good king, and that Mother and Father should’ve never married, and that the mean old black cat Tommen wants to catch had another owner before. Myrcella heard Uncle Jaime speak about him once, and the person who owned the cat before. Uncle Jaime says many things about before Myrcella was born, but only when he is drunk and sad.

She twists a bit of string around her string until her finger turns purple. By now Joffrey must have found Sweetrobin and Tommen. She hopes that Sweetrobin cried and punched Joffrey in the nose. He gets to hit Joffrey without getting in trouble, since his father is the Hand. Myrcella is just a girl though, and must be a sweet little lady who lets Joffrey do whatever he wants. Last time she complained to him about cheating in games, he bit her ear. Mother wiped her tears and told her to bear it with a smile. Myrcella stopped complaining after that, but it still burns in her stomach.

Father says he won’t be like this forever, at least. Myrcella hopes so. She imagines him fully grown, but still the same way, and instead of twisting her arm he twists her neck. Just like Tommen’s kitten that bit him once. Joffrey let the poor little creature under Tommen’s bed, and Tommen screamed about monsters for weeks afterward. She sighs. There aren’t any monsters here that Myrcella doesn’t already know.

Myrcella hears footsteps down the corridor and holds her breath. Oh, if Joffrey finds her, he’ll tug at her hair and scratch at her arms! He’ll be so horrible, he always is! She’d rather die than be found by him!

--

Tiptoe through the cellar or crawl under your bed.

Anywhere you’ve fled, I am going to find you!

Stay inside the shadows, all you girls and boys.

Don’t you make noise, or I am going to find you!

--

“Are you afraid?” Myriame asks Arya, but she shakes her head. She refuses to be afraid. Not now, when they’re still hiding from the men who took Father away and locked Sansa in her room.

She shivers and Myriame pats her arm. She’s one of the serving girls—Arya heard Father call them Lord Varys’s little birds, once. Before everything went so wrong. But when Father was taken, a group of serving girls took Arya by the arm and hid with her in an alcove. They cut her hair, they dirtied her face, they shredded her fine dress and pinned a dirty pinafore to her shoulders. No more Arya Stark, just Nan. Nan, amongst Myriame, and Celia, and Delight, and Sera. Just another serving girl hiding behind curtains, nor beneath the bed.

“It will be alright,” Myriame whispers. “The only ones who go down here are us. Everyone else gets caught like Princess Myrcella. Those men won’t ever get us.”

Arya shivers. No one speaks of Princess Myrcella and how she disappeared without a trace. Did bad men steal her away like Father and Sansa? She dares to ask, “How do you know?”

But then their breath because there’s men outside their room. Their voices are harsh and drip with ill intent. One of them calls Sansa a whore and Arya wants to stab his eyes out with Needle. But then they enter the room and she squeezes her eyes shut and holds her hands over her nose and mouth. They can’t find her. They can’t! They’ll take her away from Father and Sansa, and who knows what they’ll do to Myriame!

There are four beds in this room, a servants’ dorm. Arya dares to peek. They check beneath one bed. Then another. One of the men cackles, “I can smell you, little girl! Where are you hiding?”

Neither of them dare to breathe. The man says in a high pitched mockery voice, “Ready or not, here I come!”

Arya burrows into Myriame’s side and waits to die. There is noise, yelling, shouting, terrible noise. Then there is heavy silence, only broken by Myriame’s breaths. Arya doesn’t dare open her eyes. Not for a second.

Myriame murmurs again that it will be alright, but Arya keeps her eyes firmly shut, counting the seconds.

--

Run, run, run! Creep up on my grave!

Run, run, run! Stalk the night away!

Scuttle off into the night! But what’ll be behind you?

Don’t you speak! Hide and seek!

--

Tywin barricades the doors shut in his wrath. How do two grown knights go missing in daylight?! And not just any knights, but his own—he needs Gregor Clegane’s bloodlust to scour the Riverlands, like a beast on a leash. And Amory Lorch is slime suited for the most unsavory tasks that Tywin cannot do. But they are gone, disappeared without a trace.

Just like his granddaughter Myrcella.

He sheaves himself onto his chair and pours himself a goblet from a blood red decanter. Years have passed, and still Cersei blames the Dornish. But even Tywin can’t point the finger at them, as there is no evidence at all. Myrcella simply played hide and seek one day, and was never found. Most likely some depraved monster of a servant took the girl for his own desires and threw her into the Blackwater, a fate entirely underserved for anyone of House Lannister. The fact that the girl was too sweet to harm a fly just makes the wound sting greater. Without her calming influence, Joffrey is an unhinged little bastard, and Tommen a spineless fool. What is Cersei teaching her children?

Not to mention she’s let both Stark girls escape! First Arya in the chaos after Eddard Stark’s arrest, then Sansa from a barricaded room! Last Tywin heard, they were both back in their mother’s custody at Riverrun. And Robb Stark is proving himself to be a wolf on the battlefield—he’ll have to deal with the boy himself. If he can stop him from overtaking the Riverlands and spilling into the Westerlands! Tywin could gouge his daughter’s eyes out for her folly. They will never get Jaime back, now that they’ve lost their bargaining chips!

Tywin hears footsteps lead up to his door and barks, “I am to be undisturbed!” He doesn’t hear them head back down the stairwell, and he growls to himself. Idiots, he is surrounded by idiots! He stalks to the door and swings open the door.

There is no one there. He blinks, then closes it. He turns back towards his chair, and the window is open. Cold sweat beads at his brow. He never opened that window, and yet the curtains blow in the wind.

A princess and two knights go missing in broad daylight without a trace. This must be the work of faceless Men from Braavos, paid to…to what? Myrcella is an obvious target, if less obvious than Joffrey or Tommen. But why Clegane and Lorch? Perhaps this is a Dornish ploy, as revenge for Princess Elia and her children—

Something falls over in his adjoined privy and Tywin swears he hears footsteps come up the stairwell once more. He steals into his bedroom without so much as a whisper, as one breath. He must hide. The wardrobe’s doors are swinging in the breeze. The Faceless Man will hear him close them, surely. But where else? His heart pounds in his temples and his vision swims. By the gods, are they already inside the room?

He looks down. It is insulting, but his only choice. Tywin squeezes himself beneath his bed and pushes himself towards the wall. The walls themselves are hollow, to allow the servants to attend without disturbing his betters. If he can find the trapdoor without alerting the assassin, he can survive this.

He is Tywin Lannister, the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. He will not die here! He holds his breath, and wills his numb hands to stop shaking.

--

Like a frog inside a skillet, a lobster in a pan.

You don’t understand that I am going to find you!

Be still as a mountain and quiet as a mouse, ‘cause any little sound,

And I will surely find you!

--

Joffrey is dead. Joffrey is dead! And the castle isn’t safe! Tommen scurries into an abandoned room deep in Maegor’s Holdfast. There’s just a trundle bed in the corner, boxes piled on top of each other in the center, and dust coating everything. Once, Myrcella showed him this room while playing hide and seek—but that was when she was still here. Even years later, no one understands what happened to her, or to Gregor Clegane, or Amory Lorch, or to Grandfather. Mother blames the wicked Dornish. Joffrey blames evil Northmen magic. But Tommen knows, he knows that it’s the monsters. He has seen them in the night! They are in the walls! They are beneath the beds!

Tommen told Margaery to run before he fled the wedding feast. He hopes she survives. But he can’t think of more than finding his hiding place. He’ll never make it out of the castle, not with the smallfolk starving and so angry at them. He’ll sneak out at night, before the monster goes feeding. And then he’ll head…somewhere. Anywhere but here!

Try as he might, Joffrey haunts his steps. His bloated purple face, the bile and blood spilling down his chin to pool in Mother’s lap. Mother screamed and screamed when he died, like the day when they couldn’t find Myrcella or Father. The monsters must have killed him too, like everything else in this castle. And now he is alone!

Tommen shrieks, and claws at his hair. He can’t breathe! They can hear him! They can smell him! He is next!

He crouches down on the bed in the corner. He wills himself to breathe but he’s too afraid. Joffrey is dead! Myrcella is dead! Grandfather is dead! Will they ever find his body?! Tommen chokes on his sobs and his entire chest aches. He hurts. It hurts. The fear, it hurts, make it stop—

He collapses to the ground. He writhes, and scoots beneath the bed, and muffles his screams into the dust and the dark.

--

Tick—tick—tock, are you ready or not?

Tick—tick—tock, listen to the clock!

Hasten off into the black, don’t waste another heartbeat,

Don’t you peek! Hide and seek!

--

Dragons roar from over Kings Landing, and Cersei sobs into her hands. She should be on the Iron Throne to meet the usurpers, but then they burned her Kingsguard at the gates and—and she panicked. She ran, and hid beneath a servant’s bed.

King Aegon Targaryen the Sixth, come back from the dead! With silver-gold hair and bronze skin and indigo eyes, thirty thousand Dornish spears at his back and that miserable little chit Shireen Baratheon as a bride with the Stormlands as her dowry! And Daenerys Stormborn, Queen Beyond the Sea, come to help her nephew claim his throne with their shared dragons! They each ride one, with one reserved for the sister that Lannister men murdered along with godsdamned Elia Martell! Cersei could scream, but then they’d find her.

She must escape.

If she makes her way back to Casterly Rock, then she shall be saved. No dragon can defeat the heart of the Westerlands! Cersei can still salvage this, even with all her family dead and her dreams scattered to ashes in her throat—

At least there is no valonqar. The prophecy took her children from her, but her neck is still her own.

At least she got to hold Joffrey as he died. Myrcella and Tommen had no bodies to bury. He was her first, and her last, and she prays that he found his siblings from wherever those wretched monsters stole them away.

Muffled footsteps creep from beyond the corridor and Cersei can’t breathe. A servant? A Dornish spear? A Dothraki? Daenerys? Aegon? A monster?

Bare feet enter the room, splattered with dirt and blood. One of Varys’s little birds? They skip to the edge of the bed, and a sweet voice rings out, “Found you!”

Swift as night and brutal as the Blackwater, a hand reaches under and grips Cersei by the hair. She screams as she is dragged out, and then she can’t scream because hands are at her throat and twisting—

--

Let the countdown begin!

10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

--

Rhaenys peeks out from behind the door. All is still and silent. Not even the flies are buzzing. She stifles a giggle into her hands. Aegon raises an eyebrow, and she explains, “Everyone always hides under the bed. A child’s mistake, it can be forgiven with time and wisdom.”

He shakes his head, before resting his chin on her head. “You’ll never need to hide beneath the bed again, I swear it.”

“I know.” She trusts her brother. She loved him before he could even remember her face, of course she trusts him. Him, and their aunt Daenerys, and their family in Dorne, and all her friends hiding in the walls—Rhaenys shall never be alone again.

Her family are in the throne room, and she shouldn’t keep them waiting. How happy they will be to see her! How happy she will be to see them! The weight of years of hiding bows her shoulders. It is time for her to stop hiding, stop seeking, stop this game and take her place in Aegon’s circle. He will be so proud to see how she’s survived. Mama would be proud. But Rhaenys…well, old habits die hard.

She shimmies beneath the bed and pulls Aegon down with her. He laughs and she lets the shadows become her. Just once more. Once more, the darkness becomes her. Rhaenys bares her teeth in a grin. What better tool for a new king than a monster who knows where everyone hides? Aegon survived the last game between them, and she’ll keep it that way.

She tells Aegon to count to ten, and he holds his breath.

A clock ticks somewhere.

There are many who covet the throne. And the countdown begins anew.

--

Ready or not, here I come!

#becky blue eyes #asoiaf fanfiction #horror fanfiction #rhaenys targaryen

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 17 (Jason Todd x Reader)

JAY IS BACK MOTHERFUCKERS

WORDS: 6706 WARNINGS: A BIT OF VIOLENCE. JASON BEING AN ASSHOLE.

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

“Just coffee. For two.”

The waitress nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

She left. Five minutes later she brought in two mugs and poured in your drinks.

You warmed your chilled palms onto the ceramic. You somehow felt cold. Even when it was ninety degrees out. Especially your hands. You blew into your mug and took a sip. Just to warm up the itch in your throat.

Three weeks ago, Dick gave you that first call. You asked what it was about. He said he needed to talk to you in person. When he showed up to your house, he had a sling in his arm from a gunshot wound.

You thought he didn’t need to explain where he got it from. You knew who he was, as well as Bruce. But then he told you that it wasn’t from Penguin or Riddler or even a common thug. That it came from a new enemy going after Batman.

Still a bit confused why he came all the way to your place just to tell you that, he started bringing in a few documents.

First, he showed you pictures of Jason’s grave with a massive hole where his body was supposed to be. You remembered sweating your hair out at the horrible sight, the chills that ran down your back. It wasn’t from grave diggers. No. It was from someone climbing out from 6 feet under the soil.

Then, he showed you DNA test results.

Jason’s DNA, taken from when he was still alive, and a DNA sample from the Red Hood’s blood they had taken from one of their encounters. It was a match.

You demanded to know what was going on. Because whatever Dick was trying to tell you, none of it made even the slightest bit of sense. Dick wished he could explain more, but even he didn’t know the full story.

You couldn’t sleep that night, and barely the next night.

But then the week after that, Bruce invited you over to the mansion to talk. Dick picked you up, and at the dinner table, you, including Alfred, had a long, difficult talk about how he’d confirmed that Jason Todd, officially pronounced dead three years ago April 27, had been brought back to life by some unknown force, took the mantle of the Red Hood.

With you in the brink of tears, Bruce told you they were still trying trace where he came from, studied his techniques that Bruce was sure Jason didn’t know until now. So far, they found out that the Red Hood had been going around the state before he came to Gotham, formed his own crime ring and has taken over the empires of almost ten different drug lords. He was wanted in over six sectors, has left bodies left and right.

And now, he’s challenging Batman with his new style of vigilantism, which included cold-blooded murder. Every time Bruce, Dick, and the new Robin, Tim Drake, come across the Red Hood, they barely come out of it alive. He really wanted them dead.

And he was good at his job, as well. He’s done more good for the people than anything else. But he was also taking the lives of so many, Bruce wanted to put a stop to it.

You asked to be left alone for a while. For days, you didn’t talk to anyone. You stared at the rooftops. You looked at Jason’s old photos, compared them with the Red Hood’s new photos. You tried with everything you could to understand that the man you still loved even after three years of his death was now back, alive, risen from the dead as if that wasn’t actually insane. You mourned for him for so long. You still did. And what was that going to amount to now? You knew he was involved so many things you never could understand. But this? This defiance of the laws of nature?

You barely slept a wink.

Two days ago, Dick told you they needed your help.

You didn’t want to be involved, and you told him that. You weren’t even sure you wanted to see him like this. If this was even the same Jason before his death.

Dick told you that somehow, you could be of help. You could talk to him. Level him back down and give him the peace he needed to stop all the killings. You weren’t sure if that would work, and if anything, it was risking your life. You had no idea what Jason was capable of now. He could kill you. He could be heartless like that. And he was, from the way he was acting now. It wouldn’t be of any surprise.

But Dick and Bruce, they were running out of options. And even without Bruce outrightly admitting it, they wanted Jason back in the family. They missed him, too. It wasn’t just you.

As if the three years of grief weren’t enough. If any part of him was the same Jason you fell in love with, and still love now, this was the thing of your most impossible dreams, that your dead boyfriend had miraculously come back. It was insane. But you knew, with all your heart, you desperately wanted him back.

But you needed the help. Bruce offered to pay for therapy if that was what you needed, to get your head straight, figure things out before you ultimately decide what to do. Eventually, you agreed.

And now, here you were.

You took another sip from your cup, then Dick came up from behind you.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You stood up to give him a little hug. His hand patting your back, he sat across from you.

“For you.”

“Thank you.” He took the coffee mug. “You’re looking a lot better.”

You held your drink with both hands. “Thanks.”

“If you’re not comfortable in any way, I completely understand.”

You tried to hold back your shaking arms. You didn’t want him to see just how much this all scared you.

“What brought him back?”

“Ra’s al Ghul. The Lazarus pit. At least, that was after he was already resurrected. The pit just fixed his body and made him stronger.”

“Lazarus pit?”

“It’s uh,” he stuttered. “Ra’s has this League of Assassins with his daughter, Talia. And they own all these Lazarus Pits. It’s a sort of a Fountain of Youth. He bathes in it, and it makes him live for six hundred years. It also heals your body from just about any injury.

“They must have found Jason, bathed him in the pit, then nursed him back to health in an attempt to create this someone to go against Bruce.”

This was far, far beyond what you could have possibly imagined. Some sort of the supernatural had always been real. Magic. Aliens. The Justice League. But now that you were involved? This was too much.

But with Jason… your sweet, loving Jason… You’ll do anything.

“You think he’s heartless enough to try to kill me?” you asked.

Dick drank from his coffee mug, set it down, then swallowed.

“I never got to tell you, didn’t I?”

“What?”

Dick bit his lips. “Jason’s not gonna hurt you. I’m sure of it. I wouldn’t have called if it had put you in any kind of danger at all.”

“How are you so sure?”

He looked out the window, at a rooftop from an apartment building nearby. You breathed into your mug.

“About a week ago, I put a tracker on him without him knowing. Then one day I followed him, just to see what he was up to…”

He held his cup.

“He was waiting for you outside your university. And when you got out, he followed you all the way to your house. He’s been at it almost every single day.”

You caught your breath in your throat and watched Dick with your lips starting to shake.

“And it isn’t just that. He does everything to make sure you don’t get hurt. When you go out at night, he’s still watching you. As the Red Hood. One time before you were about to cross an alleyway where thugs were waiting to rob you, he beat the living shit out of them before you even noticed.”

You gulped down, then you drank even more of your coffee just to ease your nerves. You shifted in your seat, then cleared your scratchy throat.

“How long has he been at this?”

“I’m guessing since he first came to Gotham. A month ago.”

The coffee suddenly didn’t taste so calming anymore. “God… I… This is still so much to process…”

“I know.”

“He isn’t going to show himself to me willingly, is he?”

“I don’t think he will. He makes sure you never see him.”

You closed your eyes.

“That’s why I called you. If you got to talk to him, maybe you can get him to listen.”

He loves you. He still does. And he was a broken soul, protecting you when no one was there to protect him. He needed you.

It was that one, single push you needed.

“I want to do it.”

Dick held your wrist and squeezed it tightly. “Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, Bruce, Tim, and I will be there.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid of,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

Not a clue. Not a single premonition.

“Honestly, me neither.” He finished his coffee. “But it’s worth a try.”

-----

One. Two. Three.

Those fools had it coming.

Barely a word out of his mouth gushing with blood. The Red Hood held his neck, stuck him up against the truck’s container, then pushed his revolver right under his chin.

“When’s Black Mask’s next shipment?!”

“I don’t fucking know!”

He clicked his gun. “I think you do.”

His filtered voice made everything a lot worse. The driver of a weapons cache truck he caught was trembling off his ass. His two other co-workers were lying dead on the ground. And when Red Hood squeezed his neck further, he gasped for air.

“Tomorrow! At the docks!”

He slammed the butt of his gun right to his face. He fell to the ground, unconscious. And just because he had one bullet left to waste, the Red Hood shot his shoulder.

He jumped out the vehicle and stretched out his neck, closing the truck door while the driver continued to scream in pain. The police should be here soon. He’ll have to get out of there.

“Hey there, bud.”

“Fucking shit-“

The Red Hood, in just one swift move, reloaded his gun and aimed right at the top of the truck, at the black and blue figure crouched over staring at him.

“Get out of here.”

“I just want to talk, Jay.”

He wanted to shoot Nightwing’s smug little smirk right off his face. “I mean it.”

“I won't-“

Red Hood fired at the truck’s metal just an inch away from Nightwing’s leg.

“I won't miss next time.”

“Just listen to me-“

“Fine. You wanna play that game, Grayson?”

He took his other gun strapped from his hip. Nightwing jumped off the truck before he started firing at his face.

Dodging the bullets, he started leaping circles around him, getting closer to where he was standing. Red Hood stopped firing, threw his guns to the ground, then charged for Nightwing’s leg just as he got close enough.

His larger figure stopped himself from tumbling to the ground when Nightwing landed a kick to his helmet. He growled, waited for him to pounce again, then Red Hood ducked under his leg, shot up quickly enough to land his powerful fist right against his chest.

Nightwing was down. He rolled to the floor, but resisted pulling out his escrima sticks. He wasn’t here to beat him down. But obviously, Red Hood wasn’t here to talk, either.

He ducked and blocked Red Hood’s succeeding hits, almost rolling around the empty road. He kicked him in the stomach, then Red Hood headbutted him with his much stronger helmet.

“Jason!” Nightwing blocked him with his arm. “This is about Y/N!”

He stopped.

Then his helmet was about to melt at the immense heat his head was boiling to. “WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”

Nightwing leapt up to a pole. Red Hood grabbed his guns, reloaded them, then started firing.

“Stop it!”

“Fuck you!”

He kept firing at Nightwing’s body, backing off when he got too close. He was going to kill him. He wasn’t getting out of this alive. Not tonight. Mentioning your name like that, it’s going to cost him his life.

“She knows! About you!”

“You fucking ASSHOLE.”

More. More bullets. Nightwing went into one of the alleys and jumped up the fire exits. Red Hood kept firing, the bullets bouncing through the walls. He climbed up the escape and chased after him.

“HOW THE FUCK DID SHE KNOW?”

“I told her!”

“oh, you’re dead, Grayson.”

They reached the rooftop, and Nightwing ran all the way to the other side of the ledge. Red Hood sprinted after him, opening fire. He didn’t care where they landed. He wanted his body to put into the shock in the middle of jumping to another rooftop and fall to his death.

“She wants to talk to you!”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know what happened-“

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS, DICK.”

He made sure you never saw him alive. You thought he was dead. He was going to keep it that way.

Then he ran out of bullets, cursing beneath his breath, Red Hood threw his guns to the floor and chased him down.

When he caught him, he pinned him to the ground, grabbing him by his neck. “Jay-“

“I’m going to kill you. Right now. You think I’ll hesitate?”

“Do you really want to break her heart again, asshole?”

“You fucking-“ Red Hood punched him in the face. Then Nightwing folded his legs up, pushed him with the heels of his feet, landing him on the ground. He placed his arm right against his neck.

“You of all people can't lecture me on breaking hearts, you jackass.”

Red Hood punched him again, then got off the floor. Nightwing finally pulled out his escrima sticks, and Jason pulled out the last of his guns from his holsters and aimed it at Nightwing’s head.

They paused, stared each other down with their weapons in hand a yard’s distance away.

“Just… talk to her.”

“I can't believe you pulled her into this-“

“This isn’t about our little game. This is about you, Jay. And you need our help-“

He laughed. “Since when did I ask for your fucking help?”

“Since you killed almost a hundred people in Gotham in the last month-“

“Those aren’t just people, you idiot. They’re Joker’s men. Penguin’s. Two Face’s. They all deserve to die.”

Nightwing tightened his grip on his sticks. “Then just talk to her. She deserves that. You of all people should know just how hurt she is.”

He clicked his gun. “Mention her again, and I’ll blow your brains out.”

“She’s waiting for you at the plaza. Behind the cathedral. It’ll just be you and her. Just let her talk to you-“

Just one pull of a trigger. And this son of a bitch dies for ever even speaking to you. He’ll fucking keep his word.

“You think I don’t know this is a trap? What, you, Bruce, and that fucking replacement will be waiting to ambush me in the dark?”

“Not this time. You have to believe me.”

He scoffed. “What are you trying to do? Change all this?”

“Trust me, I get it. You have no intention in mending anything with Bruce. But if you don’t show up, it’ll devastate her.”

“She’ll be fine. Trust me. She dealt with worse.”

“And you really want to subject her into that again?”

Deep, slow breaths. He lightly pulled the trigger, but Nightwing just skidded to the side and dodged him.

They heard something. Coming from below. Police sirens cleaning up the weapons truck.

Staring each other down, Nightwing and Red Hood slowly backed off. He hated him. All of them. His fucking family that never once cared for his ass, or felt any type of remorse for not being able to save him. The family that never thought to avenge him, set their morals aside to do what’s actually right. They look down on what he does, and yet, he’s done more to control Gotham’s crime than Bruce ever had in his lifetime.

Red Hood set his gun down, then they both sprinted to opposite ends of the rooftops.

He was going to clean up their mess. Again.

-----

It ends tonight.

Everything. Your story. Your mourning. Your commitment to your dead, beloved high school boyfriend. Your unhealthy attachment to what could have been. Your reluctance to move on.

You realized, it all ends tonight.

No matter what happens, no matter how this all ends, everything was going to change.

If he doesn’t show up, it’ll pave the way for you to move forward, knowing that Jason, given the chance that seemed entirely impossible just a few weeks ago, had no intention of even speaking to you, let alone change for his own betterment. It should tell you to let him go, despite you not wanting to. It’ll tear your heart into shreds, more than it already was, but if he was alive, and he still wanted nothing to do with you…

You just hoped that won't be the case. You still loved him. Endlessly.

And if he does show up, it could only end as well as you being able to convince him to stop with the killings, be his better self, be the Jason you knew he still was, and it’ll go on from there. The miraculous dream you never thought to be true. Your loyalty to him, rewarded. And no longer will this life go on as if you were merely running in a slow, painful treadmill with no actual direction, other than to keep the promises Jason asked of you. You’ll have him back. As crazy as it still is, you’ll actually have him back.

But that was the most wishful thinking you could do. It’ll almost never end that way.

But, no matter the outcome, if he changes or not, you’ll finally come to the end of you dreaming about the past. You’ll know he was here. Alive.

That alone fixed some parts of your broken self.

So you got out of your car, walked out into the plaza where you told Dick you’ll be waiting. Behind the Cathedral. Where there was no one around but trees and bushes. The next walkway was yards away, and there were almost no lampposts nearby. If what Dick said was true, and Jason would never try to hurt you, you’ll still be safe.

You leaned against the wall, looked around at the vines eating up an old, wooden bench.

And you breathed. Long deep breaths.

You were going to see him. Finally.

Maybe your attachment to him was made for this. Because somehow, deep within you, you knew it wasn’t over. You knew he wasn’t completely gone. As hopeful as it was, it somehow came true.

Deep. Slow. Breaths.

An hour. Maybe an hour and a half. You waited.

You were going to have to be as patient as you could be.

What were you gonna say to him?

A lot of things. Punch him in the face. Scream at him for ever leaving you like that. Yell at him for idiotically going after the Joker by himself. Hug him. Kiss him.

Your mind was boggling. This was never what you signed up for.

But it was everything you could have hoped for.

You’re seeing him again. Jason. Your love. Your first, and still love. Oh, how your heart warmed. You wanted his arms back. You wanted his lips back. You wanted-

Thud.

A noise.

Coming from the roof.

You stepped out from leaning against the wall. Nothing. Nothing above you.

Another thud. On the grass.

You looked around.

Your heart was thrashing hysterically in your ribcage.

“Jason?”

You walked to the other side of the cathedral’s backside. But there wasn’t so much as a squirrel around you.

Then.

Then.

You turned around.

There was a figure.

A large, dark figure, hiding in the shadows. By the trees. A few yards away from the building.

You narrowed your eyes, squinted to get a better look.

It was getting closer.

You wanted to back away, but you didn’t. You were too frozen too move.

When it passed by a single ray of light from a faraway post, you saw it was a man in a dark, hooded jacket. With what looked like armor on his chest.

He got closer. Closer. Close enough for you to see the red bat symbol on his chest.

You took a step back.

He was huge. So fucking huge. This couldn’t be him. Not by a mile.

You took another step back.

And when he got close enough so you could see the red helmet where his head was supposed to be, with white, glaring eyes looking back at you menacingly, you fumbled backing away until you ultimately hit the wall.

The Red Hood.

He walked to you until he was standing so close to your shivering body. You pressed yourself against the wall as much as you could. Your whole body thudding, your head swarming in panic. Your stomach was churching, much like it did when you were terrified beyond belief. You wanted to run away, but his helmet, his chilling red helmet, it stared you down so you couldn’t even move. An inch away from your body, the Red Hood growled.

“Stay… Away…”

You swallowed.

“Jason?”

“Don’t… Don’t even try.”

“You're…” you breathed out, your chest heaving. “You’re really alive…”

He just stared at you, not giving you any chance to move. You were stuck, pressed against the wall, as you stared at him in disbelief.

“How much do you know?”

You were stuttering. Your shaking mouth forced you to. You’ve never been so scared in your life. “A lot…”

The Red Hood slightly turned his head to the side.

You wanted to see him. Really see him. His face… without thinking, you reached up to his helmet.

He pushed your hands away, and you gulped, backing off.

“Whatever it is you're trying to do, stop it. It’s not going to work.”

“I just want to talk-“

“About what? What are you possibly hoping for?”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” you whispered. “Why didn’t you see me first? You have no idea-“

“You think you want to see this?”

He pointed at his chest. “This isn’t what you think it is. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

Of course he isn’t. You didn’t expect him to.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…”

“This isn’t what you want. Trust me. Far from it.”

Eyes stuck to his helmet, where his own eyes were supposed to be, you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“I want to talk to you. I know about what you do… and I still do-“

“Forget about all this okay? As far as you know, I’m still dead.”

This time, as scared as you were, you wanted to punch him.

“Do- do you have any idea how much you hurt me?”

He didn’t answer.

“You fucking don’t.”

“I wouldn’t talk that way to someone with three guns on him.”

“Go ahead. Shoot me. Kill me. If you insist that’s what you are.”

You saw his shoulders rise, his breath deepened. You bit your lips, and you stepped closer to him. You craned your head up his much taller figure.

“What do you expect out of this?”

“I just want to talk…”

“About what?”

His filtered voice. There was barely anything of the Jason you knew. You couldn’t see his face. His whole body grew more than four sizes larger. You couldn’t hear his voice. It was so hard trying to be gentle to someone who just looked terrifying to look at.

“Stay away from me.”

“No,” you said. “Take that mask off and look at me.”

“Listen,” he walked towards you and pushed you against the wall. “I don’t know what you want. You want us to talk? And what do you want out of that? Something more?” he scoffed.

Your mouth turned dry. You wanted to kick him in the groin until he’ll barely be able to walk.

“You left me,” you whispered. “When you said you never would.”

“We broke up-“

“You. Left me.” you hissed. “You have no idea…”

He stopped, looking to the side at the wall behind you.

“You should’ve moved on-“

“Fuck you.”

Tears. Angry tears. They wanted to seep out. He stepped back. “If you know what’s good for you, forget about all this-“

“I can't believe this is how you are after you fucking died and left me to grieve you for three years-“

“Deal with it. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

And, as it seems, you started to believe him.

This was a cold, heartless villain. The Red Hood. His helmet, his voice, his body. None of it was Jason anymore.

“I just want to talk… Please…”

He shook his head, not even giving you another glance. The Red Hood turned away from you and walked out into the trees until you couldn’t see him anymore.

You cried too much for him. Far too much.

So you didn’t this time. You let yourself slowly realize this was how things ended.

Your phone rang.

“Y/N?”

You breathed. “He won't talk to me…”

“It’s alright. We did what we could. I can come up there and-”

“Can I be alone? Please? I’m going home.”

“Of course. I’m really sorry…”

You hang up.

----

It felt like it was about to rain, even when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

You went up to your bed, folded your knees up your chest and stared blankly at the cold, empty floor. It was back. All over again. The same loss when they told you he died. That wasn’t Jason you talked to. Far from it.

There was no trace of his sweet, comforting voice, of his handsome face that lit up any room he was in. His arms, now twice as large as they used to be, they didn’t give off that soothing rush that calmed down all your nerves when he’d pull you into his chest. His voice, it was far from some fucking robotic filter that hurt your ears. You hated every part of it. You hated that helmet. You hated what he became.

Jason was still dead. He wasn’t coming back.

You hoped far too much of what was impossible to ask for. Because whatever that was, the Red Hood… You didn’t know what you were even expecting. That wasn’t your boyfriend. He couldn’t be.

You wanted to see the Jason who smiled bashfully when he saw you walk down the steps of your apartment, the one who stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyes glistening as he stared lovingly at you. You wanted the guy who wanted to see you every day of the week, miss you on the days when he wasn’t and push everything to the side just to spend every minute he had with you. The one so obsessed with you that he couldn’t possibly ask you to stay away, or ever make you feel like he didn’t want to see you at all. You didn’t like feeling so unwanted.

You hoped, with that tiny part of you that still had it, that he would have met you, looking exactly the same way he did before he died, and pull you into his arms. The dramatic part of you wanted to run to him, and he’d run to you, and you’d crash into an embrace for hours and hours until he’ll ultimately pull away to kiss you.

And instead, you got a red helmeted asshole who told you to stay the fuck away from him.

You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes.

That part of him should still be alive. A part of him should still be loving you as you knew he did. He followed you around, didn’t he? He protected you.

How could he… after all you went through just to hold on to him… this is how he treats you…

Thud.

You reached for your scissors you had stashed beside your bed. There was someone in your fire escape, standing like a brick wall.

A tall man, face hidden by the shadows of his red hoodie. He stared at you, but he wasn’t moving.

Your hands left your scissors.

You knew exactly who it was. You stepped off the bed.

Your heart was pounding so hard within your chest, you thought of running out of your room. But he didn’t look like how he did a while ago. His head was down, almost like he was looking at the ground.

You walked to your window and slid the glass open.

You still couldn’t see his face. The shadows were too dark.

All the emptiness, the darkness, all that consumed you, it was all finally starting to fade out. When you saw how he didn’t have any weapons on him, no armor, no helmet, this was what you thought to see.

You let out a broken, trembling breath as you climbed out into the fire escape, facing the man closer and closer. He slightly backed away, but his back hit the railing. You stood in front of him, frightened, but not enough to run away.

He flinched when he started for his hoodie, but you didn’t back off. Your nerves were on fire but you wanted to rid the shadows, finally see him as you never thought you ever could again after all those years.

Gulping, he leaned in.

You took off the hoodie.

The same black hair that fell down to his forehead, slight curls that tickled his skin. His jaw, angular and strong. His lips, chapped and scarred. His eyes, that deep, bright blue so beautiful that it tore through you and looked right into your soul. They looked through you so woefully, hurt, broken.

And scars. One that tore through his eyebrow, one on the corner of his lip, and one on his cheek.

You breathed, and a single tear fell down your face.

It was him.

Undeniably.

It was him.

It was Jason.

He’s here.

You clutched to his neck, both your arms pulling him so tightly to you that you swore you’ll never let go again. Oh, his warmth. His body. He was here. He was actually here. You stuck your face into his shoulder, holding onto him so hard that you’ll kill him if he even tried to move away.

Jason.

Jason.

Jason.

“Oh god…” you cried. “It’s you…”

And you could feel just how much he wanted to pull away. He was meaning to. But fuck him. You weren’t about to. His muscles tensed. His breath hitched. You could feel his chest stiffen-

Then,

You felt his incredibly strong arms around you.

And you sobbed. Silently. Not so much with tears but with your broken breaths, your shaking arms. He stuck his face into your hair and breathed in. Yes. This was Jason. This was definitely him.

You could hardly believe anyone could be risen from the dead. You saw him in his coffin. His lifeless body, white and cold. And he was here, back with the same exact warmth and life. He looked different, there was no denying that.

But the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew it was him.

“Jay…”

He tightened his hold on you.

“Y/N…”

And you cried even more. That voice. The same that said your name in the most beautiful way he possibly could in that voice message you listened to over and over again. He’s here. He’s really here.

Your hands on his face, you pulled away so you could look at him more.

And he looked like he was about to cry as well. The light from your room, it shone perfectly on his face. Every detail, you could revel in. His hands squeezed your shoulders and you pressed your forehead tightly against his.

You wanted to kiss him so badly…

He closed his eyes, but you didn’t. You kept looking at him, watching how his face moved.

Jason took your hands, gripped them tightly by the wrist,

Then pulled you away.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat, taking his hands off from you and stuffing them back to his pockets. “I came to talk. Like you wanted…”

He looked to the ground. And reluctantly, you backed away.

You leaned against the railing beside him and crossed your arms.

“I don’t know where to start…”

Jason turned to you. “How are you?”

You had so many things to say. You could blurt out all your thoughts and you wouldn’t be able to stop. But you settled yourself, calmed your mind.

“I’m not so sure myself.”

“School?”

“Ending my third year. I went to arts college…”

“Yeah… I know. You like it?”

You nodded. “I do…”

You desperately wanted to hold him again, but you just kept to your shoulders lightly brushing.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Horrible. Thanks for asking.”

You shook your head. You wanted to chuckle, but you weren’t sure that’d be the best thing to do.

“Jay, what happened-“

“You really don’t want to know…”

“I deserve to know, don’t you think?”

Jason turned around, placed his hands on the railing and looked down onto the alley. You did the same, but your eyes were locked on him.

“Something happened. Some reality altering shindig in the cosmos. Ripples, as you might say. I’m not so sure myself. It caused a lot of weird shit to happen. Including me. I woke up in that coffin and climbed my way out.”

You swallowed.

“Somehow, the al Ghul’s found me and nursed me back to health. They put me in the Lazarus pit-you know what that is, don’t you?”

“I have an idea.”

“Anyway,” he continued. “They let me spend time in the League. Some sort of brainwash, but I got over it after a while. I went around different cities in Jersey, then I got to Gotham. You know the rest.”

You looked down at the empty alleyway with him. And you didn’t have much to say. You could tell he didn’t want to be consoled.

“Well, you certainly changed.”

He looked out into the rooftops. There wasn’t any wind, so nothing was blowing into his hair. You watched his face so raw, a matured version of what he once was. But it was still him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what happened to me?”

His lips went through his teeth, gritting as his muscles tensed.

“I listen to your message. All the time.”

You didn’t think he’d be so shocked, but he was.

“It sent?”

“What do you think?”

Jason pursed his lips, shutting his eyes so he couldn’t look at you.

“I kept your promises…”

You held your hands together, and you stared at them. “I went to college for you. I changed. A lot. I’ve been singing for events around the city a lot.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I watched you a few times.”

You breathed out. Slowly.

“Not all of them, though.”

Jason looked at you, and you looked back at him.

“I couldn’t move on…”

“Fuck…” he cursed. “Y/N-“

“I can't.”

“It’s been three fucking years…”

Your heart just shattered at the way he as looking at you now.

“I haven’t even talked to another guy. Not one date. I wouldn’t let them. I told them…” You shouldn’t tell him, but you really wanted to. “I told them I was still with you-“

“Fucking hell.” He stuffed his face into his hands. “I can't believe you…”

You choked. “I lost you!”

“You should have let me go…”

“I can't!”

You held his shoulder, but he flinched away.

“Why…” you cried. “Why this? I’ve done nothing but mourn for you-“

“I wanted you to live your fucking life!”

You turned away, and Jason looked at the streets by the building, at the empty cars and leaves stuck on the road.

“I wanted you to move on…”

You never once thought you’d have this conversation. Not in your life. “I couldn’t think of it.”

Jason closed his eyes, and you hugged yourself despite the heat. Your throat wanted to climb out of your neck. And your uneasy breaths, it choked you.

Jason let out a strong breath and looked at you.

“You know what I didn’t tell you in that message?”

“No…”

He leaned over the railings, elbows on the metal. He closed his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you that if I ever got out of that place alive, I’ll do everything-everything­-I possibly could to get you back…”

You looked up at the sky. Something stung in your heart.

“But I didn’t. I didn’t want to put you in a terrible place. Whether I got out of it or I didn’t, I just wanted you to find what you were really looking for…”

“I want you...“

“Y/N…”

“I still do…”

“You don’t,” he choked. “We were kids-“

“Fuck you, is that what you really think?”

He breathed through his mouth, looking at almost everything around but you.

“This was a bad idea…”

He started for the stairs. And you watched him, feeling him tear your heart out all over again. Just like the first time.

“Jay… Please…”

Just as he took the first step, he stopped when you held his face.

He didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned into them.

“Don’t leave me again…”

“Y/N,” he bit his lip, leaning closer to you but not close enough to kiss you. “You don’t want this…”

“I do…”

“No-“

“Why not?”

“I’m not bringing you into this. You don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You're worth it…”

“Y/N…”

You brushed his cheek with your thumb. He was about to cry, and you, with your tears already falling, you whispered.

“You are the love of my life…”

He closed his eyes, let you hold his face a bit tighter.

“Do you really want me to forget about you?”

Your breath shaking, it hurt like the world stepped on you when he slowly nodded. “I can't let you hold on to me any longer…”

Everything. It hurt ten times more than you ever thought it could. You never could have thought this would happen.

“Just give me a few days with you… Please…”

“Y/N, no-“

“Please,” you gulped. “I’ve been wanting To just...hold you... for so long. I never thought I’d get to anymore. And now, you're actually here. The cosmos. Whatever brought you back, they sent you here. and if you really… If I can't spend the rest of my life with you anymore, just give me a few days… Please just give me that…”

Jason finally looked up at your eyes, shaking. His eyebrows were up to his forehead, and he looked so terribly beautiful.

“Please… and I swear, I’ll forget about us. I’ll finally move on. You never have to see me again…”

Jason… Your beautiful, perfect Jason…

He took your hands off of his face.

And you turned around before you hurt yourself even more watching him leave you for the second time.

You faced out the building, at the empty sky, then you shut your eyes close before it sank in that this was the reality you had to face. Another nightmare. Just when you thought you could handle it.

You heard Jason’s voice, light and subtle.

“Three days…”

You turned around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He almost jumped down the fire exit, disappearing before he could possibly change his mind.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd angst #red hood angst #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

[recycledcactus]

c!Wilbur & Eight by Sleeping At Last analogy

because apparently c!Wilbur was based off that song? Link here

!!!!Okay so this is not all in canonical order. It’s just based on every lyric/line!!!!

Most of it is during the Pogtopia arc and Wilbur insanity arc though.

For @soot-spots I hope you like it. It’s written very weirdly and not like a regular analogy so bear with me here:

Lyrics are in italics like this [My analogies are bolder and in brackets like this]

I remember the minute It was like a switch was flipped I was just a kid who grew up strong enough To pick this armor up And suddenly it fit

[I think here, during the unknown of time before L’Manburg and after his childhood, Wilbur is thinking about his past with Philza. How Philza ‘raised’ him, AKA was an absent parent half the time. He knew how to survive, yes, and he knew Phil was somewhat proud of him. But Wilbur always felt he needed to prove himself. Techno constantly had Phil’s attention, so Wilbur wanted some for himself. He forced the metaphorical armour to fit. He forced himself to be responsible and strong. To act like he knows what he’s doing. People believed him, they followed him, so maybe the armour could fit.]

God, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive And I grew up too quick

[I’m thinking this is probably in Pogtopia. Wilbur reflects on his past self and laughs. How naive could he have been? Thinking if he started a nation, Phil would pay attention to him? He was so stupid. So needy. Phil never cared. He forced himself to be responsible and grow up and prove himself that he didn’t take the time to be a child. And now look where he is, in a ravine, without his home, country, or people. Just Tommy. (Tommy, who also grew up far too quick. Tommy who should still be growing up and not exiled in a ravine separated from his best friend).]

Now you won't see all that I have to lose And all I've lost in the fight to protect it I won't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected

[(Pogtopia arc). He stops writing letters to Phil. He stops ranting on and on, filling up the pages with messy scrawl, about his victories, his losses, his thoughts and feelings. He stops pouring his heart out in these letters and telling Phil about everything he’s done. He rarely gets replies and when he does, they’re always short and blunt. His heart can’t take how little his father cares anymore, so he stops all contact.]

I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong My healing needed more than time

[(Pogtopia arc). Tommy tried desperately to encourage his brother and tell him that things would work out, that Wilbur could be better with more time. But Wilbur could only lash out and yell, punching walls and pacing wildly and tearing at his hair until small indents were carved into the floor of Pogtopia. He yelled at Tommy, screamed and berated him. And for what? Tommy was a kid. Tommy was forced into this. Tommy was trying to help. Wilbur can’t take back those words now. He couldn’t do anything. Nothing was enough. Nothing could bring him out of his head. He’d lost. It’s over. There’s nothing left, there’s— he’s—]

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

[(Pogtopia arc). Wilbur looks at himself in a mirror and doesn’t even recognize himself. The bags under his eyes are too big and his hair is too matted. There’s dirt cakes on parts of his coat and his shirt is covered in patches to keep it together. But he thinks maybe he’s stronger. He’s learned from his old self. He used to get too attached to people and things only to be betrayed and thrown out of his own country. He was weak. But now that he had nothing, he was stronger than ever, right? They say a man with nothing to lose can do anything he wants, right? There can’t be a harsher consequence than being exiled and thrown out of the country you built. Wilbur can do what he wants. He looks into Tommy’s eyes and sees a reflection of himself––broken, too. Broken and lost. But not the same. Tommy is so much stronger than him and maybe that does make him mad.]

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

[(Pogtopia arc). He puts on an air of self-confidence and (albeit grim) cheeriness for Tommy. He can’t show his little brother that he has no hope. He can’t show him he’s truly planning on blowing up L’Manburg and that it’s not just ‘Plan Bomb’. He can’t bring himself to talk to Tommy about how shitty things are for him because he knows Tommy has it shittier. Tommy is 16 and scared and traumatized and is holding himself up for his brother & Tubbo. He doesn’t need more problems to worry about. Wilbur smiles only to walk away and break down. He covers up how hopeless he feels and how far gone he thinks he is. He offers up plans of taking his country back just to see Tommy’s eyes light up. But he can’t help but know L’Manburg will all be blown up. He can’t get distracted from doing that because it’s the one thing that might make this pain go away.]

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

[(Pogtopia arc). Wilbur needs Tommy or Phil or hell, even Techno. He just needs someone. Someone to snap him from his intrusive mind. His thoughts that run rampant and scream at him to destroy everything. His plan that is both self-destructive and literally destructive that will leave everyone he cares about in shambles.

But he has no one. He can’t speak to Tommy without further scaring or hurting the boy. He refuses to write to Phil because he doesn’t even care (he wouldn’t come running to save his ‘son’ from himself). And Techno only supports the idea of destroying L’Manburg——he wouldn’t bother helping Wilbur with his problems.

Wilbur doesn’t know how to make the first move and let his guard down. (His mind briefly flashes to Eret and how much he used to trust the man. It was thrown away as soon as the Dream Team walked out of those walls though). That’s one of his last mistakes.]

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel

[(At the beginning of L’Manburg and the drug van). This symbolizes Wilbur starting L’Manburg——starting a country from nothing but a van, his brother, and a crazy dream. He left his small childhood home behind––finally being able to breath in relief when he doesn’t have to relive all the times he and Phil had yelling matches when he walks through the kitchen, or to feel a bitter sadness remembering Tommy waking up screaming from nightmares and being the only one to console him whenever he passed the blond’s room. He can finally push the past behind and open up to people he cares about and trusts–– his friends and citizens.]

Here's my Achilles' heel

[(During L’Manburg when it was still a new country and they still wore soldier outfits). He soon realizes that L’Maburg is more than a country. It’s his home. It’s his family. His weakness. He cares about it because it’s the only place he could ever truly call his own. A small, nagging part of his brain whispers to him that if he’s not careful, it could be his downfall. He pays no mind though, because that seems so unlikely. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he won’t let intrusive thoughts ruin in]

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

[(Pogtopia arc). It dawns on Wilbur that L’Manburg has not been his downfall yet. Sure, he’s exiled, but he always imagined his downfall would be dying for his country. His country still lives though and he is not dead. Instead, the game is still on. His Achilles heel has not yet been struck. So maybe L’Maburg was not his Achilles heel all along? With that belief, Wilbur can’t help but still want L’Manburg back. He can’t push L’Manburg away when he’s trying so hard to get it back. He thinks maybe if he becomes president again and gets rid of Schlatt, his downfall would not come. He would be safe.]

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

[(Pogtopia/insanity arc). There’s still a possibility of L’Maburg being the end to Wilbur. With plans of war and overthrowing Schlatt, the thought is more prominent than ever. While Wilbur goes mad in Pogtopia, he’s quickly realizing that L’Manburg can’t be his Achilles heel if there is no L’Manburg. If he gets rid of L’Manburg, there will be no other problems. His symphony won’t be finished and therefore his Achilles heel will be protected.]

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat

[Oh but... but what if he is his own demise? L’Manburg was his. His dream. His home. He pushed everyone away for L’Manburg. He ignored his son, his brother, his best friend. Would it not make sense if he fell too? Should he not perish too? To let his brother rest? He knows the way they look at him——like he’s unstable, untrustworthy. Which he is. And Tommy... Tommy who still trusts him, who still looks at him like he could do no wrong, like he’s still a fearless leader. (He catches his small flinches though, the way he sometimes bites his tongue and hesitates before blurting out his words loudly, like usual). No matter how many times Wilbur hurts Tommy and tears him down, he’s always back——loyal and unwavering. Tommy did not deserve this. Tommy should be free. Wilbur cannot live in a world knowing Tommy is hurt because of him. Wilbur cannot see Tommy free with knowing what happened daily in that stupid, sold ravine. Wilbur cannot live and be anything to Tommy.]

An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

[Wilbur watches the leader who took his place, fall. He watches as his people cheer and fall over each other in exhaustion. Their wounds are deep, but smiles deeper. He elects Tommy, who in turn elects Tubbo (the discs again, when will it stop?) Wilbur listens to the man he once called father try to convince him not to destroy L’Manburg. He listens to the screeches of Withers and muffled cries of people.

It’s time.

Wilbur takes the arrow and strikes his Achilles heel.

He watches in twisted, painful satisfaction as his world blows up before him. People cry out for other reasons. They——especially Tommy——look at him in horror. But why does the arrow not kill him? Nothing else can hurt him like this does, right?

No, the wound is not deep enough. He is too happy to be injured like this for it to be fatal.

“Kill me” He begs. He thinks it’s good revenge on his father for being ignorant. And a good way for the arrow to strike him dead.

Philza stabs him.

The arrow in his heel digs deeper.

And then all is calm,]

----

[Also I feel like every one of those strong brassy bursts in the song is like a fist against the wall——Wilbur striking out against the walls of Pogtopia in anger and (self-)hatred and frustration.]

Hope you liked it. It was certainly an experience to write and I really enjoyed doing this

#character wilbur soot #wilbur soot #character tommyinnit #character wilbur soot analogy #character study #dream smp #mcyt #pogtopia #metaphor

[sdvharveybby]

It’s all just a waiting game...

(F!Female farmer x Harvey)

Ha ha! Another angsty “farmer is missing and mangled” fic! Honestly I genuinely enjoy this scenario because its the trials between a husband and doctor and how he handles his emotions. 

I will be making a part 2 though, but it would help if I could get criticism or perhaps a bit of popularity for this post just to see if I did well. In any case, I hope you guys enjoy it! 

Words: 2338

“Mayor Lewis, please listen to me- she has been missing for four days now. That’s not like her at all. Something’s wrong- something happened to her.” With desperation in his voice, Harvey gripped the phone harder in his hand. There was a brief pause from the other line and finally, “Okay, I understand. I will contact Marlon and Gil now, and we’ll make up a search party to look for her.” With that Harvey whispered a thank you and ended the call. He paced the floor of the home that he and the farmer had been living in for several months now- he hadn’t showered, his clothes were disheveled, and he hadn’t slept. It was nightmarish and thousands of thoughts ran through his head, he could hardly hold back the worst thoughts. That the farmer could be gravely injured- or worse… dead. He felt hopeless and cursed himself for not being able to do more- besides wait. ‘Be patient, she’ll turn up’ rang in his head that Lewis had told him two days prior. ‘She’ll turn up- you know she’s a busy girl!’ “Just foolish.” Harvey spoke aloud as he sat down in a chair and held his face in his hands. The farmer had never been this late, sure, she may have gone to bed late or turned up early the next day, but nothing like this.

It was currently 7pm, just an hour after his phone call with Lewis, and he put on his jacket to go look around town and Cindersap forest for any sign of the farmer. He walked these areas many times since her disappearance, but he always thought, ‘What if I missed something?’ ‘What if she was lost?’ As he entered into town, attempting to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes, he saw a group of people standing in the center with heavy jackets and flashlights. As he approached, he recognized them as Jodi, Kent, Gus, Lewis, Abigail, Pierre, Caroline, and a few others. “Harvey… you look awful. When was the last time you slept?” spoke Pierre as he walked towards Harvey. Harvey looked to his feet through saddened eyes, “I don’t remember…” Everyone looked to him mournfully until Lewis broke the short tension, “Okay, everyone… Our farmer has been missing for four days now. Let’s split into teams of two and scan the area for any signs of her.” Everyone began adjusting their coats and checking if their flashlights worked. “I’m talking- Cindersap forest,” people began walking, “The beach, by the railroad tracks- we have to find her.” Harvey stood there, watching everyone disperse in their teams, and relief and stress both washed over him. If they find her, what state would she be in? He feared the worst as he had done since the first day she went missing. Lewis approached Harvey and put a hand on his shoulder, “I know you won’t like this, but please go get some sleep at your clinic. When we find her- we don’t need our only doctor exhausted. I have Marlon looking for her in the caves and Gil checking the quarry, okay?” Harvey nodded without saying a word- he was a bit crestfallen, but too exhausted to argue. “I will call you when we find her.”

           Approaching the clinic Harvey unlocked the main door and stepped inside. It was dark and foreboding as he tried to imagine the farmer in one of the beds passed out. He shook his head from his constant thoughts and began prepping the area in which he would work on her if they found her. ‘IF’ they found her is a thought that occurred to him continuously since the search party dispersed. And with that, he finally stepped into bed- passing out from his lack of sleep.

           Awoken by the sound of his phone ringing- Harvey shifted in bed. Disoriented and groggy he rubbed his face when realization struck him. It was currently 4:23am and he shot up from his bed- his blanket flying behind him as he stood and stumbled to his phone. Hastily grabbing it he put it to his ear, “Yes, hello?” “Harvey… It’s Lewis. Marlon found her in the mines on floor 107. Look… she’s really not in good shape- we need you to be ready to perform surgery right away.” Without a reply, Harvey slammed his phone down on the receiver and stood up. It was surreal. They actually found her! But a dark feeling entered his stomach and he tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. He felt sick to his stomach almost unable to move, “S-surgery?” he whispered- stunned and emotionless. ‘Sh-she’s so badly hurt I need to perform emergency surgery on her.’ He thought to himself- finally he slapped himself awake and tore open his door and down the stairs into his clinic.

           Turning on the lights and working on preparations for the surgery, the sting in his cheek from when he slapped himself hardly bothered him as adrenaline ran through his body- his nightmare may come true. Thoughts began in his head more profusely this time, ‘What if I can’t save her?’ ‘What if I have to watch the one I love die before me?’ ‘Why couldn’t I protect her?’ As he finally finished what he had to do- the door to the clinic burst open. Whipping around he stood to face Marlon holding the farmer bridal style with Lewis behind him- the darkness from the outside pouring in. Harveys eyes shifted to the farmer and he couldn’t breathe. The lump in his throat grew stronger, the dark awful gut feeling grew stronger, and he could hardly look at her. Her body was mangled, she was caked with blood, and she wasn’t moving. ‘She’s not moving- why isn’t she moving’ he repeated in his head over and over again. Harvey rushed to Marlon and motioned to put her on the bed, “Place her on the bed- I’ll get the IV’s ready.” With a deep gruff- Marlon shifted the farmer in his arms as he had carried her for quite a while- he placed her on the bed and moved her arms beside her. “Harvey… Harvey you need to make sure she’s still alive first…” Marlon sounded grave as he whispered words that rang through Harvey like a loud bell. “I- w-what? What are you saying?” Marlon turned to face him and opened his mouth when Lewis came to put a hand on his shoulder. He closed his mouth, looked away, and stepped aside- folding his arms as they were weak from carrying the farmer. Harvey almost threw up at the thought alone, ‘Make sure she’s still alive first…’ He walked to the bedside of the farmer and pulled out his stethoscope- he was slow- shaking as he put it to her heart and listened. His eyes were wide, and he began to sweat- unsure of what and how to handle the situation. She was the worst he had ever seen, using his eyes to navigate and analyze her body from the surface- he saw multiple fractures, broken bones, cuts, bruises, and a large laceration running down the side of her left arm. Along her left side was a large third degree burn on her upper thigh- having burned through her clothes and began to blister. Blood caked her hair and down the right side of her face- her eyes closed and pained. It looked like she hadn’t slept in days and her body was shutting down. Then… *thump… thump* Harvey cracked a small and worried smile, ‘She’s alive! She’s alive!’ he thought, and he quickly began grabbing IV’s, bandages, ointment, anything to help ease her pain. Harvey heard a short gasp from behind and he turned to face everyone form the search party standing behind him. They looked out of breath and tired, but also relieved that the farmer was found. He looked at Caroline who had given the short gasp and saw Maru fighting through the people to get to him. Through analyzing the farmer he didn’t even hear anyone walk in- and through teary eyes and cracked voice he spoke, “She’s alive, but as you can see- is gravely injured. I…” he gave a short pause and looked away- fighting back tears whilst also knowing he has a job to do, “-need to stabilize her and get her through the night. If she can make it throughout this day then I believe she’ll make it, but if not…” He couldn’t finish his sentence- Maru moved past him and began unwrapping the needles for the IV’s and rummaging through the drawers for antibiotics. Lewis cleared his throat, “We all need to leave and let them work.” Those in the search party were stunned and never broke their gaze from the mangled farmer- hardly hearing the words that Harvey spoke. It wasn’t until Marlon moved in front of them that they realized they needed to leave, and they all quickly herded out of the clinic.

           With just Harvey and Maru they both began disinfecting her words and sorting out her injuries. Maru began working on the farmers right side while Harvey began on the left- analyzing her head injury was his first priority. “Dr. Harvey… You may want to see this.” Pulling back the farmer’s burned clothes from her upper thigh revealed how bad the burn was, “Okay, once we put her on antibiotics and pain relievers, we need to begin debridement.” She nodded in response and began disinfecting the laceration on the farmers arm, instead, to prepare it for stitches and bandages. The blow to the head, Harvey surmised, seemed to be from a fall onto a rock from within the mines- the blow itself didn’t to seem bad, but the blood loss was.

           The process to stabilize the farmer took hours- it was a sigh of relief and her checking the clock that Maru said, “Dr. Harvey, it’s almost 5pm. D-Do you think she’ll be all right?” After scanning over the farmer several times looking for anything they could have possibly missed, satisfied, Harvey sat in his chair just bedside the bed and rubbed his face with his hands. He gave a long-drawn-out sigh, contemplating and reviewing all the steps they did in his head. “By this point,” he began, “It’s all up to her. With the feeding tube, IV’s, and bandages- there’s nothing more we can do but watch her hopeful progress.” He didn’t like the uncertainty towards the farmer and he silently cursed himself for allowing her in the mines time and time again. He felt like he could have stopped her, and this time- he really wished he did. Deep in his mind, he acknowledged that there was no way he could have known, but he tossed them aside. If only he was more persistent or sent her with more life elixirs or-, “Harvey- I know you’ve been in your head quite a bit, but we have done all that we can.” Maru broke through his unhealthy absorption of thought,  “Let her rest… and you should too.” Maru began grabbing her coat, “I’m going to head home. If there’s anything you need… Please call me. I want her alive just as much as you do.” Starring intently at the farmer, he gave Maru a silent nod and she left the clinic. Ever-so-hopeful Harvey wasn’t sure if he should scold the farmer or just be happy she came back in one piece. It was a mixture of both. As much as he loved the farmer with all his being- she continuously neglected the dangers of the mine. Always coming back with scraps and bruises that he’d see when he would give her a massage at night. Most of it he would ignore because they were easy to treat, but over time the scars on her body became clear- by this point, through all the physical therapy and treatment she’ll need, the farmer will likely never be able to go back into the mine again. The thought of that also saddened him though… He knew she loved going into the mine- fighting new creatures and grabbing ore or foraging for rare materials. It was just what she wanted to do and she enjoyed it- she sought out danger, but unfortunately it sought her out too. Looking up her body, it looked like the farmer was a mummy. Wrapped up in gauze with an IV in her arm and feeding tube in her mouth. Even for a doctor it was a rather scary and intimidating sight- it was all just a waiting game. It was all just seeing if she would decide to pull through- there wasn’t anything he could do by this point. Cracking the knuckles on his hands and stretching out his neck, he walked over to one of the nearby beds and scooted it as close to the farmer as he could get it. With the heart monitor in the way, it was a bit difficult, but her slow heart beats gave him a peace of mind. She was alive, and he was going to see to it that he sees all of this to the end. He laid down on the bed and finally took off his “doctor hat”- facing her and realizing the situation he… began to cry. It’s one thing to look at her as a patient, but another looking at her as his wife and the mess that she was in. He couldn’t do anything but watch and be patient- and that was his least favorite thing. Through his quiet sob he reached out his hand to gently stroke her arm, and spoke, “Honey… please come back to me….” He gave a pause to blink through his tears and continued, “It’ll be all right- I’ll take good care of you… Let’s just get through this together, okay? Please?” He kept his hand on her arm, gently stroking it with his thumb- blinking away the tears as best as he could. It’s all just a waiting game…

#harvey stardew valley #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #stardew farmer #honestly just sad fic hours #that just how it be #yanno? #gotta be sad sometimes to be happy again #itll get better though #no worries