#cro angst

[sleepingdeath-light]

child reader getting turned to stone hcs ; dragon cookies

requested by ; shinydrakeon15 (10/09/22)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; ananas dragon cookie, longan dragon cookie, lotus dragon cookie, lychee dragon cookie, pitaya dragon cookie

outline ; “Could I ask for the dragon cookies with a child reader that got turned to stone by longan since they’re a cookie? If you wanna add longan as well that’s fine with me”

warning(s) ; child getting turn to stone, grief, some other general angst

none of the dragons could say what had caused their attachment to you, but they certainly had their theories — lotus dragon cookie believed it was something to do with biology (the need to protect their young), lychee dragon cookie thought it was just a matter of you being adorable, ananas dragon cookie blamed pride (the need to prove themselves as powerful by protecting something as fragile as a mortal child), and pitaya dragon cookie didn’t care enough about underlying reasons to hypothesise about any

not that any of that affected how they treated you, of course, because at the end of the day you were their child and they all adored you in kind regardless of your origins

pitaya dragon cookie’s time with you was spent being playful and adventurous — flying with you in their arms, play fighting with you (and sometimes even letting you win), tossing you up in the air and carrying you under their arm, and just generally doing whatever they can to have you positively shrieking with laughter

lychee dragon cookie is by far the most affectionate member of your new family — smothering you with hugs and kisses whenever you visit their island, bragging about how you’re ‘the most adorable child in the world’ to anyone who will listen, happily resting with you curled up in their arms even when they’re actually quite busy, and generally being a very doting parental figure who loves you more than anything else

lotus dragon cookie does whatever they can to ensure you are set up for a successful life as you grow up: hiring the best tutors for each subject from across the world to ensure that you only get the highest quality of education mortals can offer, using their servants to make sure you keep on top of your studies between sessions of lounging and play, offering their own insights into subjects like history and biology when asked, offering dozens of rewards and incentives for every success, and just generally being an incredibly supportive figure in your life despite coming across as a bit overbearing at times

ananas dragon cookie, meanwhile, instills a strong sense of pride within you and never misses an opportunity to spoil you rotten and show you how much better you are than other mortals: covering you in jewellery and fancy clothes, buying you any toy you ask for the moment you mention it to them, paying for grand outings to fun places around the world, making sure you have as many enjoyable experiences as possible as you grow up, and encouraging you to look down on others whenever you come across them (the other dragons also share that view, they’re just a bit more subtle about it around you)

really you were set to grow up loved and educated and understood in your found family of dragons… until longan dragon cookie found you

until they saw you all on your own, a tiny fragile mortal in the realm of the silver dragon

until they decided to deal with you in the way that they deemed the most appropriate for such an ‘offence’

until you were turned to stone before you could even blink; the eternal child frozen before you even had the time to scream, expression contorted with the beginnings of a terror you never truly got to experience or perceive

until your life came to a sudden, bitter, cold end — just another statue amongst the hundreds that adorned their lair

… your family never was the same after that unforgivable offence, after losing you because of some stupid oversight that led them to bring you with them to that meeting (because, surely, between the four of them they should have been able to keep you safe… should)

they blame themselves, blame each other, and of course are all furious with longan — which leads to them all burning their bridges and going in their own directions to grieve

lotus and lychee have support systems in their followers and, whilst they never truly get over their loss, they are able to live with it afterwards as the centuries go on

ananas returns to their isolation and becomes much more volatile and violent to any mortals that try and approach their lair, grief turning to anger as they relive that day over and over again — they are the one that took what remained of you after the fact and they keep on talking to it in the hopes of bringing you back one day

pitaya leaves everything behind and starts a new life in another kingdom, abandoning their draconic body and becoming an adventurer to avoid their grief — and they do so very well until they run into hollyberry cookie and her companions and end up face to face with a young hatchling that needs to be cared for

a child, so like you and yet so very unlike you at the same time, that forces them to finally face their grief and it breaks them — they are distant in their help with snapdragon cookie but they do offer advice when asked, but it doesn’t hurt any less when they see them and see your excitable face in their own

it hurts, but they will live on no matter how impossible that seems to them in the present

none of them outgrow your loss and they all grieve you and the life you should have had, but that grief manifests differently for each of your family members: pitaya leaves their old life behind, ananas festers in their grief and refuses to leave the past in the past, lotus adapts their grief and grows from it by doing things in your honour, and lychee becomes more isolated and reliant on those under their control to fill the void you left — all different, all separate, all grieving

except for longan, of course, who feels nothing for the life they took for they didn’t know or care to know of the impact that life would have despite how short it had been

you were loved

you are loved

you will always be loved

even if that love changes and grows in your absence

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #child reader #platonic x reader #cookie run angst #cookie run x reader #cro angst #cro x reader #ananas dragon cookie x reader #ananas dragon cookie angst #lychee dragon cookie x reader #lychee dragon cookie angst #lotus dragon cookie x reader #lotus dragon cookie angst #pitaya dragon cookie x reader #pitaya dragon cookie angst

[aobawilliams]

please talk about yeet to the future au! i already know about it but i love it and would love to hear more

Eheheh of course (●'◡'●)

The idea is that the Straw Hats were an infamous pirate crew who kept picking fights they really shouldn't, until one day they up and disappeared leaving only their boat behind. A few decades later, they re-appear as if they've always been here.

What actually happened is that, following an encounter with Toki Kozuki, they got send to the future around canon-time. Luffy is not happy that he lost the race to the last island against Roger and insists Toki's actions counts as foul play.

In this AU, Luffy is also Dragon's older brother, and was older than both Shanks and Buggy (before the yeet). Their "official" comeback happens during the battle of Marineford. They were here because Luffy insisted they needed to go to Impel Down to get their helmsman back, now that he's old enough to join them.

It's still very scrambly overall because I need to work out a functionning timeline but I do have a clear-ish idea of some of the things I want in it.

I don't have much written for it since it'll need a lot of planning but have this little thing for now:

"Jimbei!" A voice way too cheery for the lowest level of this hell exclaimed, right in front of their cell, "whoah, you've grown so tall!" He could hear the fishman move, choking on air. "Luffy-san?" He asked, disbelief in his voice. "How can you be here?" It wasn’t a name Ace was familiar with. "Shishishishi, I came to rescue my helmsman, of course!"

#cro answers #i think a lot of it you already know jkdfghkjdfh #what is there that you don't know about this au #uuuhhhh #oh yeah Luffy offered Ace a chance to escape at Impel Down #but Ace refused because of his bucketload of issues #which is why marineford still happens #i also kept your ideas of Sanji's sibling not aging because ehehehe angst fun #i have the shortest snipper about it around actually #Koby is actually older in this AU and closer to Garp's rank #Oh yeah Koby knew Rosinante! not sure what I'll do with that yet but it's there

[sadsoftserve]

-Promises- An EE minific

(this is angsty. Really angsty. It's Bonnies backstory breaked down into a simple ~1,800 word one shot. This contains REALLY SENSITIVE CONTENT. The mentions of Domestic abuse, SA, and attempted murder. PLEASE IF ANY OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU AND OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. DO. NOT. READ. This is oc centric. Focuses on Bonnie, with mentions of her mom (Reseda) and her uncle, Ramsey..Not canon to EE. This is Fanwork)

Most of my early childhood was spent blocking out the screams of my parents, and hiding in the moist attic playing with whatever old anquite I could find. No matter what happened within the day, my drunk ‘dad’ would always find a way to beat me or my mother. I stayed as far as I could from them, out of fear it would happen to me. My mother was an amazing woman, Reseda Murdoch was her name, she worked tirelessly at a local library to support me and the drunk she was with. When she worked she often took me with her, she didn't want to leave me alone with the man who frequently beat us.

“Bonnie, baby, come on…” My mother gently cooed. “You know what happens when we’re late.” She loudly whispered as I sped up to match where she was walking. I didn't talk much as a kid, I had no need too. If I did speak it was because I absolutely had too. I shared a lot of physical attributes with my mom, the olive green eyes, and the red hair were the most prevalent. As we walked down the streets of the hood part of Sweet Jazz, my mother held my hand and prayed. Like she always did. She wasn't religious, just hopeful. Hopeful that one day the bastard would drop dead from alcohol poisoning or a drive-by. Me and my mother walked fast, the sooner we arrived the lesser the beating would be.

The closer we got to the house the more anxious my mother got. If we were lucky the bastard would already be asleep and we would go the day unscathed. 

Other days, we weren't so lucky. Like today, as soon as we walked through the door his abhorrent screaming was heard. From where I was standing I could smell the alcohol on his breath. The slurring I was used to, the smell got worse every time I inhaled it. “Wher’ the hell have you beeen!” He grabbed my mother's collar and she let out a yelp. “Keep yer’ mouth shut, whore!” He broke the bud light bottle over her shoulder as she dropped to the ground, holding back tears. She couldn't cry in front of him, if she did it would get worse. He spat in front of her and threw the bottle down next to her. “Get me another ‘ne."

My mother nodded as she quickly stood up and ran to the kitchen to grab the beer he had yelled for. He glared at me. He didn't like me. Not one bit. I was his plaything. Something he could manipulate and play with at his leisure. I didn't know it was a crime. Looking back on it, the nights he would beat my mom so bad to the point of unconsciousness, were the nights he used me. I was five. I was barely a child, and yet he found it amusing to make me do things for him and his friends. Things I didn't know were bad or taboo. He touched me In places I didn't know were private to me. He did the same to my mother, but worse. I could hear her screams, and his beatings as he brutally assaulted my mother. My mother often found herself confiding in my uncle. She called him on our old landline we kept in the attic.

“Ramsey… I can't do this anymore…” She sobbed out into the landline, I was never able to hear my uncle's voice on the other line. But I'd always imagine he sounded like a superhero. Like one from the cartoons. Looking back on it I should've known that's not what he sounded like, but the way my mother talked about him made him seem like a hero. “No… don't do that… he’ll- he’ll beat me worse…” Another unnervingly lengthy pause. She nodded and started to jot down a long string of numbers on an old bill. “O-okay… I'll try. Thank you…” She hung up. She looked at me. I was her pride and joy, she loved me more than she loved herself. Was as fiddling with an old doll I kept up there. “Bonnie… baby, come here.”

I obeyed her actions and went to her sitting in her lap, as she stroked my hair. “Love, your hair is getting so long… it almost looks like mine…” she sighed. “Bonnie, you can talk around me… you don't have to be quiet all the time…” I shrugged. I didn't like speaking. Everytime I did I would be told to shut up by the man who dared to call himself my ‘father’. She sighed once more. “We’ll be out of here soon. I promise. Its gonna be me and you against the world.” She smiled softly.

I leaned my head against her chest and closed my eyes. Listening to her heartbeat. It had an irregular pattern, but it was still soothing. I found myself falling asleep on her as she hummed a simple tune. 

A lot of my nights were spent like this. Cradled up in my mother's arms, years went by, repeating the same cycle of abuse. My mother, beaten and sexually assaulted, I, beaten and sexually assaulted. I was about 9 when ‘The incident' happened. That's what me and my uncle call it. It was December 27th, a cold, windy night for Sweet Jazz. Instead of spending my nights on the attic, I spent it outside. I would play with rocks, sticks, or any snake I could find. The usual screaming match was happening inside, bottles being thrown, punches landing, I was used to it. This particular night I was playing with a small wooden snake I had gotten for Christmas, it was small and bendy. I found myself growing fond of it. I was in my own little world, when the sounds of a gunshot were heard, and the blood curdling scream of my mother followed. The neighbors lights turned on as they heard the screams of my mother. 

The gates between our houses were simple wired fences. Missus Poppy lived next door, she was an older woman, about in her mid sixties. She ran outside upon hearing my mom's scream. Her bonnet and fluffy robe swayed in the late night chill. “Bonnie..? What's going on?” She asked me, I simply shrugged my shoulders.

“I don't know…” I said meekly. Missus Poppy ran around her house to the front door, which she banged on.

“Ray! Reseda! What on god's green earth is going on!” Her voice was loud, it awoke some of the other people on the block. We lived in the hood, hearing a gunshot wasn't rare, but it wasn't common either. We were a tight knit community, everyone looking out for one another, but my mom hid our abuse so well, no one suspected we were being abused. “I swear Ray, I have the police on speed dial!” My father answered the door, gun in his hand. He swung it open, letting the scene of what just happened be seen by everyone on our porch. Missus Poppys face fell immediately, and her dark skin turned a shade lighter. She put her hands over her mouth as she put her arm in front of me.

I saw it all. It was graphic. He shot my mother. Right in the stomach. She was barely clinging onto life. I pushed past missus Poppy, and my ‘father’. I didn't care if he shot me, do it, I couldn't care anymore. I ran to her side, stepping in the grotesque amount of blood spilling out of her. The authorities and my uncle were already being called. “Momma…?” I said, tears spilling from my eyes.

“...Bon-nie… baby…” She lifted a weak hand to put on my face. She gently caressed it. “Baby… I don't think mommas gonna make it…” she winced in pain as she held her stomach with her free hand. I could see the life slowly draining from her, and I didn't want that to happen.

“But… what about our promise…? You promised you'd always be here for me… you said everything would get better…”  I cried. My knees were soaking up the blood that was on the floor. My once purple leggings were now stained red, with my own mother's blood.

“B-baby… I'm sorry…” She said, her own tears spilling from her eyes. “I… want you to know…” The sounds of ambulances and police sirens were heard outside, along with the angry shouts of my uncle. “I want… you to know… that whatever happens… I'll still be here with you… and that… I'll love you no matter what… okay..?” 

I nodded. “Okay… promise?” I asked.

“Promise…” She gave me a pinky promise. The paramedics quickly came and scooped her away. Nine year old me was left on the kitchen floor, kneeing in a puddle of my mother's own blood. I was in shock… then I broke down. I let out blood curdling wails of pain and grief. I was nine.

No nine year old should go through that.

The police had to hold back my uncle from completely beating my ‘father’ to death. At this point in time, I believe he was out on parole. The police were trying to make sure he didn't break it. He was shouting curses, profanity of all kinds.

“COUNT YOUR FUCKIN’ DAYS RAY! JUST WAIT TILL I GET BACK INTO PRISON! COUNT YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN’ DAYS!” I had never seen my uncle so angry. He was usually a calm guy. His body was entirely gold, he was ready and wanted to fight. I went outside, still crying, upon seeing me, he immediately stopped his angry rant and shoved the officers off of him. He ran up to me and gave me something I desperately needed. A hug. I cried into his shoulder. Staining his bright red Hawaiian shirt with tears.

“Bonnie… kid.” He said softly. He stroked my hair, just like momma did. “It'll be alright. Just… let it out…” I could tell he was fighting back tears too. His nose was scrunched up as his eyes closed tightly. He held me close.

Somehow, I had a stroke of luck. My ‘father’ was charged with attempted murder, two counts of domestic violence, child abuse, rape of a minor, and rape. He got life in prison. But, my luck ran out quick. My mother was out in a coma, to save her. She hasn't awoken yet. I was put in the foster system until I was twelve. Bounced homes frequently, I became a delinquent, fights, juvie, you name it. Foster homes didn't want me, I was trouble. The city had no choice but to stick me with my uncle. Ramsey Murdoch had a criminal record, but it was all petty. Embezzlement, forgery stuff like that.

He's a great caregiver. He supports me, gives me a good life I didn't have when I was younger. Hell I think he's even talking to Micah's mom. Maybe rat man will get hitched? I'm glad I still have someone out there to take care of me. Sure, he sucks at it sometimes. But I love my Uncle, he's still that hero a dreamed of when I was little.

Maybe one day we'll be all together again.

Only time will tell.

#epithet erased #ee #art #oc #ramsey murdoch #reseda murdoch #Bonnie Murdoch #ANGST #REALLY ANGSTY ANGST #artists on tumblr #minific #fanfic #oc backstory #its her canon event #i couldnt stop it #i litterally croed when wroting this #fr #not even joking

[depressiver-junkie]

Ich hab' die ganze Zeit so Sehnsucht nach mehr Nähe

Doch ich steh' hier mit kei'm

- Cro, Freiheit

#cro #angst vor nähe

[pellucid-constellations]

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

~~

“What’s this punks name again?” 

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 

“Semantics.” 

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

~~

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 

“Fuck you, man.” 

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 

“Y/n.” 

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 

This was different. 

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 

“It was a big deal.” 

~~

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 

A good reason. 

You didn’t date athletes. 

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 

And you didn’t date athletes. 

You did not. 

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 

“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 

The arms atop your legs tensed. 

~~

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 

Definitely not. 

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 

“What?” you yelled. 

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 

“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 

~~

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 

And nothing at the same time. 

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 

“You’re being presumptuous.” 

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 

“You can do it again.” 

“Oh, I will, baby.” 

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 

“And is that true?” 

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #college!bucky

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part twenty three

Warnings: angst, mentions of an ED, mentions of reader not eating, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited love. Not proofread!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: After weeks of staying silent, Robin finally confronts you about your feelings.

Word count: 4k

series masterlist

-

You stare at the tiled ground. Bouncing your knee and chewing on your nails, trying to calm your heart from pounding. The sinking feeling in your chest makes you so anxious. 

You shouldn’t have done this. 

You shouldn’t have offered to spend time with Steve. 

You shouldn’t have offered to go out with him for lunch. 

You should have gone with Eddie, like you normally do. 

What if he gets angry again?

What if he’s upset? 

Is that why he sounded so grumpy when you called him last night to remind him that you already made plans? No. He already knew about it since Saturday and he wasn’t mad or upset. 

Or, maybe he was just better at hiding it this time. He hurt you when he found out about the kiss with Steve. He hurt you and that is something he would never do again. You know it. That is why he kept his feelings to himself this time, right? 

Oh god. 

You really hope that he isn’t angry, hurt or upset. 

The last thing you want to do is hurt Eddie. 

You flinch in surprise when a large hand takes hold of your wrist. You look up with wide eyes, about to pull your hand back when you lock eyes with Steve. Your shoulders slump in relief and you take in a deep, shaky breath. You look down at his hand, still wrapped around your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he says as he softly pulls your hand away from your lips, looking down at your freshly manicured nails, “you’re gonna ruin your nails.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. 

Steve had always intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly to stop you from chewing on your nails. His hold on your hand was more effective anyways when it came to calming your anxiety. 

His hazel eyes scan your face, he notices the worry etched in your beautiful features. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, stepping closer to you, “are you okay?” 

His soft voice, his kind eyes and his words are almost so foreign. It’s been almost a year since your relationship ended and yet, you get taken back to it every time you’re with him. 

Every time you look into his soft eyes, every time you feel his gentle touch, every time you hear his kind words, you wonder why he had been so rough and harsh when you were still his. What changed? Why is he like this now? Why wasn’t he like this back then? 

Even in the beginning, when he was so good to you, he still wasn’t this gentle with you. 

“Y-Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re chewing on your nails. You always used to do it when you were anxious.”

He can see the way your eyes flash with surprise and the way your brows furrow in confusion. 

Did you really think that he forgot anything about you?

“Oh, I uh, I’m fine.”

He scans your face. You’re lying, he knows it.

You look both nervous and anxious and a part of him fears that he is the cause of it. 

“You don’t have to spend your break with me if you don’t want to.” 

“What? No! No, it’s not that. I want to.. I want to spend time with you. I-I mean, we’re friends, we can just hang out together,” you shrug, trying to give him a smile, “as friends, right?” 

He smiles. You’re blushing and smiling nervously. It’s cute. 

“Yeah. As friends.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence between you both. You stare at each other, neither of you making a move. You just stare at each other as he is still holding your wrist. For a brief second, he looks down at it, he loosens his grip around your wrist, letting his fingers glide down your knuckles and your ringed fingers. The urge to just take your hand and never let it go is so strong. 

He lets it go, raising his hand to run it through his hair, he takes a deep breath. 

“So, what do you want to eat?” He asks, looking around the crowded mall. 

You shrug. 

“I’ll have whatever you want.”

He furrows his brows when he looks back at you. 

“Is that so?” He asks, amused. “You always used to fight about where we should eat.”

A smile pulls at your lips, you nudge his shoulder, shaking your head at him. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not,” you mumble, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face. 

“So if I say let’s get KFC, you will say yes?” 

A laugh falls from your lips. 

“Of course you want KFC.”

He raises his brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckles.

You lick your lips, looking at the passing people before you lock your eyes with him again. You nudge his shoulder with yours as you start walking. 

“That’s like all you ever wanted to eat, Steve.”

“Yeah and that’s something you never wanted to eat,” he chuckles, “all you ever got was fries. Or mashed potatoes.”

“Well, the mashed potatoes are really good– oh, sometimes I stole your chicken though.”

“Nah, I shared it with you, dolly.”

You feel a pang in your chest. One that makes you swallow harshly, biting back the bitterness on your tongue. You try to leave the pain in the past but every time he says something that reminds you of your past with him, you feel the same pain all over again. 

The same pain that you have felt when he flirted with others. The same pain that you have felt when he started ditching you for her. The same pain that you have felt on the awful night he had broke your heart and everything that came after that. 

You look down with a smile on your face, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes. 

You don’t want him to see how much you are still hurting. He can’t see. He can’t know. Not when you want this to work out. Not when you want to give your friendship a second chance. 

You know that this might be a bad idea. 

Spending time with him. Being alone with him. Letting him back into your life like this but, he just means too much to you to just let him become a stranger again. 

You can be friends again, without wanting more, right? 

You know that you can do it, but can he? 

Can Steve accept being just a friend? 

A part of you thinks that he can’t. He had proven it a few times already, that he can’t be just a friend. It’s in the way he looks at you, it’s in the way he touches you, it’s in the way he says your name, it’s in the way he kissed you. 

But you want it to work out. You want him in your life. You want him to be your friend again. 

“Hey guys! Wait up for me!” 

You and Steve halt in your tracks, both turning around to see Robin rushing towards you both. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Steve mumbles under his breath. 

“Aaron told me to take the break with you,” she smirks at Steve, who rolls his eyes at her. 

She knows that he was looking forward to this. The lunch date with you. Robin can’t let this happen, not when she saw how nervous you looked when you waited for Steve in front of Scoops Ahoy earlier.

She squeezes herself in the middle, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. 

“Let’s get some fries, girl.” 

A smile appears on your face, a look of relief flashing in your eyes, which makes her feel better about intervening. 

‘Sorry, Steve.’ She thinks to herself. 

-

Robin’s eyes roam your face. Her brows are knit together as she watches you. 

You’re sitting across from her, playing with the fries on your plate that you have only eaten half of. There’s a troubled look in your eyes, you are chewing on your bottom lip, blinking as you stare down at your lap. 

Steve is rambling, talking about some horror story Dustin had most likely made up while sipping on his Dr. Pepper. She isn’t really listening, too busy trying to figure you out. 

She wonders what you’re thinking about for you to look so.. sad. 

She needs to talk to you. She can’t wait till the summer is over. She needs to talk to you and she knows that you need to talk about it as well. 

“Hey Steve?” She turns towards him, interrupting his rambling, “can you get me something?” 

He sighs in annoyance. 

“What?”

She shakes her empty cup, giving him a hopeful smile, “another sprite?” 

He rolls his eyes at her but he stands up from his seat, “you’re lucky I like you.” 

She snorts. 

He gathers the empty boxes on the table, placing them all on the food tray. He looks down at you and the food you didn’t finish, “are you not gonna eat that, y/n?” 

Finally, you look up. 

You look lost, staring at him with a frown as though you don’t understand what he means. 

“The fries,” he mumbles, pointing at your tray. 

You look down, shaking your head, “n-no, I’m not very hungry,” you say, reaching for the drink as you look back up, “I had a big breakfast.”

He frowns, knowing that there’s no truth behind your words. There’s not much he can do about it though. Steve had worried about you and your wellbeing from the day his parents pointed out the changes in you. Ever since then, he had watched you closely, feeling more helpless than ever as there was nothing that he could do to help. 

He swallows, looking down sadly, he reaches for your tray, “alright. Do you want anything else?” 

“No, thanks,” you smile, shaking your head. 

He nods, giving you a smile back before he walks away, leaving you and Robin to yourselves. 

You wrap your lips around the plastic straw, looking out the window, you watch the people at the food court as you take a sip of your sweet drink. Unaware of Robin’s concerned eyes on you. 

Your eyes fall on the three teenage girls sitting by the big water fountain. The one in the middle is holding a magazine, reading something to her friends who are giggling at whatever she is telling them. One of them is wearing a green scrunchie on her wrist, it’s similar to the one you used to have. You don’t know where it went, it must’ve disappeared in one of yours or his drawers. 

She nudges your foot under the table, speaking your name softly. 

You tear your gaze away from them, raising your brows in question when you see the look on Robin’s face. The sad frown. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 

She looks around, leaning closer after taking a deep breath. 

“Are you okay?” 

For a moment, there is nothing but silence between the two of you. She takes in the look of your face, watching the way your features twist into confusion. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

The feeling of the weight crashing from your chest into your stomach, suddenly makes you feel sick. You don’t know why her words affect you the way they do but, the longer you look at her and the longer you watch the concerned look in her eyes, you feel like crying. 

You blink, hoping that no tears will well up in your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment of hesitation. 

Her shoulders slump and she sighs. She doesn’t have to say it out loud for you to know that she doesn’t believe you. 

“Why?” 

Robin takes a deep breath, leaning back in her seat, she raises her hands towards her face, running her fingers through her hair. 

“Y-You’re just, you’re not – can I be honest with you?”

You cross your arms over your chest, nodding, “always.”

“Okay,” she nods, sighing. “You’re different.”

“What?”

“You’re acting weird. You’re not yourself.” 

You straighten your back, leaning closer to the table, “what do you mean?” You frown. 

“Ever since that stupid date with that asshole, you have been acting weird, which is totally understandable considering what happened b-but, you were doing so good before that, you were moving on from Steve, you were doing better every day a-and after that night, you just, it’s like, you took ten steps back. And, I promise, I’m not judging you but I’m really fucking worried about you.” 

You’re a little taken aback. You didn’t expect this. 

“W-What?” You chuckle, nervously. 

“Just when you were getting better all this shit hits the fan!” 

You furrow your brows at her. 

“You’re not eating,” she points to the now empty table, “you’re friends with Steve again – which hey, I get now cause it turns out that Steve Harrington is actually a pretty nice dude now that he’s.. changed,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “B-But, you two kissed not too long ago and that upset Eddie which in turn upset you when he found out and acted like a total brat a-and– god!” She pulls at her hair, groaning in annoyance as she takes a deep breath again, “you should be focusing on yourself but you’re stuck between Steve who you are still very much in love with, obviously. And Eddie, who’s clearly more than just–”

Before she can even finish the sentence, you jump up from your seat out of sheer panic, slamming your drink on the table before you rush out of the restaurant, leaving Robin to  sit by herself. 

She calls out your name, throwing her hands up. She knows what you’re doing, you are trying to run away, but she won’t let you. 

She curses under her breath, pushing herself up from her seat and rushes out. 

It’s 1pm on a Monday, the mall isn’t very crowded, yet she needs a moment to find you. She squints her eyes, looking around for you. 

“God damnit, girl,” she mumbles. 

You’re fast, she’s gotta give you that. Every time you run away from something or someone, you make a quick escape and disappear into thin air. She keeps looking around until she finds you walking into the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. 

She follows you, catching up with you just before you walk into the bathroom. She wraps her hand around her wrist, pulling you back, softly. 

“Y/n.” 

You flinch, pulling your hand out of her grasp as you turn around to face her. 

“Leave me alone, Robin.” 

“No!” She shakes her head, grabbing your shoulders when you try to leave again, she slams you against the wall, keeping her hands on your shoulders. “I’m not letting you run away again – that’s what you keep doing, by the way, if you haven’t noticed. You run away from everything, y/n!” 

“T-That’s not true,” you mumble. 

“Yes it is.” 

You try to hide the fact that her words felt like a punch to your gut. 

“You keep running away from your feelings, you can’t even freaking face them!”

Your jaw clenches. You feel the anger bubbling inside of your chest. 

“You can’t even admit to them!” 

You know she is talking about him and it’s making your heart race. 

She’s right, you don’t want to face them, you want to keep running, hoping that they won’t catch up to you, hoping that they won’t ruin yet another good thing in your life. 

“Stop.”

She can’t see the tears in your eyes because you’re looking down, hiding them. 

“I know you have feelings for Ed–”

“Stop it, Robin!” You yell, trying to hide how nervous you are. 

She finally lets go of you and she takes a step back, eyeing you up and down with a shake of her head. She loves you, you’ve become one of her closest friends. She cares about you and your feelings, but she can’t stand watching you make yourself suffer. 

It wasn’t Ray who did this to you. He only triggered the feelings that have been inside of you already. You let the walls of lies crumble down the moment he touched them. You have never been okay, not even when you started to look okay. You were struggling, you were always struggling, even with Steve.

You are scared, that’s why you keep running instead of fighting for the things that you love. 

“You’re a coward.”

Another punch to your gut. 

The coil in your throat tightens and you swallow down harshly before you raise your head to look at her. You almost expect her to look at you in anger and disgust but instead you find the look of pity in her eyes. 

Tears well up in your eyes, your bottom lip trembles the longer you look at her. 

“You are so scared of everything and you keep running away from things instead of fighting for them. You loved Steve so much but you let him go so easily–”

You scoff, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Are you blaming me f-for what happened? A-Are you saying it’s my fault that he left me?” Your voice trembles as you speak. 

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, raising her hands up, “no! N-No, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying, Robin? Cause it sounds like you’re blaming me for the break up!” 

“I-I just mean that you let him go! You let him go even though you loved him to death! I’m not saying that he deserved you to fight for him because he really didn’t deserve it at all – this is about you, not him. You loved him and you didn’t bother to even demand real answers, you just let him go because you were scared of the real answers, you were scared of the confrontation, you were scared because you gave him so much and it still wasn’t enough b-but I know that you wanted to fight for him, I fucking know it and you know it too.”

The mask is slipping and you are forced to show how much you are struggling. 

“You ignore everything around you because you’re scared!” 

“N-No.”

“You never show how you really feel.”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop it from trembling. You shake your head. 

“You keep lying. You keep lying to yourself and to everyone around you.” 

A flush creeps up your face, your heartbeat quickens. You feel both ashamed and scared. You thought you were good at hiding it, your feelings. 

“No,” you lie, again. 

“Y/n,” she sighs, giving you a sad look. 

“You aren’t lying?” 

You shake your head. 

“Alright, well, if you aren’t lying then tell me why you’re not eating or why you stopped talking to me about how you feel – cause at some point you used to talk to me.” 

Your shoulders fall and you close your eyes when you can no longer hold the tears back. 

She is right. 

She is right about everything. 

You lean against the wall behind you, trying to wipe away the tears subtly. 

“I saw you with Eddie, at the lake yesterday. I saw the way you looked at him before you pulled away. I saw you with Steve and the way you looked at him.”

“Robin..”

“No, don’t ‘Robin’ me!” She throws her hands up, “I’m sick of you pushing me away because you think that I will judge you and your feelings for them! I’m your friend, y/n. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, I’m here to listen, I’m here to talk, I’m here to help so please, please let me help you because I’m going insane watching you being so hard on yourself!” 

What did you do to deserve her? 

You are so sick of your feelings. 

You are so sick of falling in love and ruining everything because of it. 

You are so sick of setting yourself up for failure. 

You look back at her, bouncing your knee as you look at her through your tears. 

Her eyes soften when she sees how much you are struggling. She takes a step closer. “I’m here, y/n, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. You can talk to me, about anything.” 

How can you talk about your feelings when you refuse to acknowledge them? 

How can you talk about something that you don’t want to accept?

“I-I just, why does this keep happening to me?” 

Robin’s heart breaks at the sound of your shaky voice. 

“What do you mean, y/n?” 

You swallow the coil in your throat and raise your hand, wiping your tears in annoyance. 

“I-I can’t reach happiness, no matter how hard I try to move on. There’s always something. I-I just can’t be happy. I keep ruining everything, Robin. Steve was my best friend a-and we ruined it, we ruined our friendship for a relationship that fucking sucked. He never wanted me, h-he never even loved me. I’m pretty sure he only loved the idea of us being together – despite the things he’s telling me now, I struggle to believe that he loved me. I loved him, I really fucking loved him and losing him hurt so fucking much – even now,” you whisper.

And for the first time, Robin sees how much pain there actually is, how much pain you have been hiding all these months. It’s in your eyes, it’s in your voice, it’s surrounding you. 

“I thought befriending Steve would numb the pain,” you breathe, closing your eyes to take a deep breath, “but I still love him.”

Her gaze softens, she scrunches her face up, watching the way you try so hard not to break down. 

“A-And Eddie,” your voice cracks and for a brief moment, you look up at the ceiling, trying to calm your breathing. 

Robin looks down.  

“I-I do.. I have – you’re right,” you stutter, closing your eyes, “you’re right about everything you said and I hate myself for it, Robin. I hate myself so much.”

Robin’s large sad eyes don’t make it any easier for you. 

She whispers your name, sadly. Not hesitating to pull you into a hug and wrapping her arms around you tightly. 

“Don’t say that,” she whispers. 

You don’t say anything, you just close your eyes and hug her back. 

“I ruin everything with my feelings–”

“No, you don’t. It’s not your fault, y/n. It’s not your fault, okay?”  

She listens to your sniffles, she feels the way your body is shaking as you try to keep the sobs in. 

A part of her feels guilty for being the trigger of all of this but the other part knows that this is what you needed. 

You need to talk about your feelings.

You need to let yourself feel. 

“You know what you need?” 

“Therapy?” You joke even though there’s tears rolling down your face. 

“Yeah that too but that’s not what I was gonna say.”

You pull away from the hug, chuckling at her words. 

“You desperately need a girls night, you need to talk to girls! You need to talk about your feelings, cry to your favorite movies and songs, eat sweets, get drunk!” She smiles, squeezing your shoulders, “I know Heather is busy with Argyle but Chrissy and I are here. We should hang out tonight, just the three of us, no boys allowed.” 

“I haven’t seen Eddie today though.”

“Oh my god,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes, “you know what? He’ll survive one day without you and you will too, like I said, you need a girls night.” 

“Girls night,” you nod, trying to give her a smile. 

“Yeah, now let's get you into the bathroom, you look like a racoon with your mascara running down like that.” 

You raise your hand to wipe it away but she stops you. 

“No, you’re gonna make it worse! Go,” she gestures to the bathroom, pushing you towards it. 

“Okay, mom.”

“Ew, don’t you ever call me that again.”

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @littledemondani @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

[bravo4iscool]

the sacrifice (simon „ghost“ riley x reader)

soft!simon, angst with happy ending, happy (open) end, technically gn!reader, love confessions, fluff, angst, dumbass!simon, medic!reader, (ooc!simon)

Ghost goes back to ignoring you after he left the med bay and he hates himself for it. He doesn‘t want to ignore you but he can‘t allow himself to be weak. He needs to be strong, he can‘t afford to be vulnerable.

or, you’re the medic for tf 141 but ever since you killed someone in action to protect yourself and ghost he‘s ignoring you.

wordcount: 4,8k

(masterlist)

„You killed for me.“

„I did.“

„Don‘t ever do that again.“ Ghost looks at you with piercing eyes and you swallow. You want to answer, ask him why he was being so cold and distant but he just stands up, clutching his shoulder.

„Ghost…“ you sigh. „I was just about to check your shoulder and leg. Sit down again. I can‘t let you leave like that,“ you explain but he shuts you up with his gaze.

„You’re not the only medic here, are you?“ he replies and you’re taken aback by that. Yes, you weren’t the only doctor on base but you were assigned specifically to the 141. Why did he want to search for another one?

„That is right but-“

He interrupts you, „I will find another one.“ With that he limped out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

You stare at the open door, still not really processing what just happened. Normally you and Ghost were good, you never had any problems. What the fuck was going on with him now?

~

„Ghost to Mama. You copy?“ Your head shoots up as you heard your Lieutenant‘s voice. You scramble to get a grip on your radio.

„Here Mama. Copy,“ you reply, ready for anything. You were currently in a hideout not far from the actual fight going on. You were on standby in case something went south. Sounds like it did.

„I’m hit. Need ya here.“ Ghost answers and you tense. You stand up, already fastening the straps of your gear around you.

„Copy. Send me your location. I‘m Oscar Mike.“

„Roger that.“

And gone you were. You left the hideout, carefully clutching your rifle. While you had weaponry training you weren’t as good as the boys of the 141, obviously.

It was enough to survive though.

You scan your surroundings, quickly glancing at your watch. A red dot appears on the digital map. Lord, how thankful you were for those digital watches. Made things a lot easier.

You carefully moved forward, your rifle lifted, ready to engage if needed. The way to Ghost thankfully wasn‘t that long, so you‘d soon wouldn‘t be alone anymore.

„Ghost? How copy?“ you ask after a couple minutes, making sure he didn‘t pass out on you.

„Fucking shit,“ comes the fast reply. You need to suppress a chuckle at his gruff voice. He sounded mad, annoyed even.

„How bad is it? Can you walk?“ you want to know, your body on high alert. You didn't want to order a medevac. Ghost hated that. Made him feel weak you found out. He always wanted to be the imitating, unbreakable Lieutenant Simon „Ghost“ Riley.

Bullshit, if he‘d ask you. Everyone had a weak side, even him, so why didn‘t he want to show it?

„Wouldn’t say I can walk,“ his voice sounds through your earpiece and you groan. That meant medevac. How funny. He‘d be pissed at you for at least a week. How amazing.

„Sounds like medevac to me,“ you respond, your body jerking to the right as you notice a movement. It was a bird. You take a deep breath to calm down. „You think you can make it to rendezvous spot with my help?“

“If you get me outta here first,” he grunts through the comms and you think about the worst.

“What do you mean?” you ask, almost at his location. Only a couple more meters. Before he could answer you saw something beneath a destroyed building move.

Was that Ghost? Fucking hell!

You quicken your steps, eyes roaming around for any possible enemy hideout. “Ghost?” you ask, also through the comms, hoping to get an answer.

“Yea,” you hear his quiet but deep voice beneath the rubble and you let out a relieved breath. You crouch down beside him, pushing your rifle behind your back.

“Do I wanna know how you ended up here?” you mumble, trying to get a picture of the current situation. There was a concrete block on his shoulder and you knew it would be hell to get it off him but you needed to. And you noticed his blood soaked pants. He probably was shot or stabbed in the leg. You couldn’t call for the others right now. Not, when they almost eliminated the target.

Ghost doesn’t answer and you know he doesn’t because he was saving his strength. You recognise that with a nod.

“I will take a look at your leg first,” you let him know, unpacking your first aid kit. “Then we’ll get this fucking piece of concrete of your shoulder. Sounds good?” You glance at him and you notice a slight nod.

“Well, then let’s go,” you say to yourself, quickly getting to work.

-

“Fuck this shit,” you curse as you remove the last piece of rubble from Ghost. You were panting, your hair falling in front of your eyes. “I wasn’t trained for this shit,” you mumble, once again unpacking your first aid kit to look at his shoulder. He didn’t say a word.

“You really need to stop getting shot,” you mumble, trying to clean the wound as good as possible without ripping his clothes. You did fast and good work and only moments later the wound was cleaned and dressed.

“Can you stand up?” you ask him, gripping his healthy arm already. “Come on big boy,” you grunt as you pull him up, trying to steady him with your body. It was harder than you thought.

“Medevac will be easier if we go to the rendezvous point. They have better access there.” You look at him as you explain and you can’t help but notice how slack his body looks. Like he would collapse any moment.

And then, he did. He pulls your body down with him as his legs give out. A surprised yelp leaves your mouth and you try to stand up as soon as possible.

“No, no, no!” you curse. “Don’t get unconscious now!” You remove his arm from your shoulder, turning him on his side. Then you take his face in your hands to take a look at his eyes. They were closed. Shit!

You stood up, positioning yourself above him, a leg on either side of his upper body. Then you reached for your comms.

“Mama to HAVOC. Do you copy?” You almost anxiously wait for an answer. “Urgent medevac required. Ghost is down and unconscious. Transmitting location coordinates now,” you tell them, your eyes scanning your surroundings.

After they assure you the heli will be there any minute you try to contact the others of the team.

“Mama to Bravo Six, how do you copy?” No answer.

“Mama to Soap, you copy?” No answer.

You don’t even bother to try and contact Gaz. If the others didn’t answer he wouldn’t too. You curse again and take a look at Ghost. He was still unconscious but at least he was breathing regularly.

You raise your head again, pulling your rifle from your back. Who knows. Maybe you’d need it…

You made sure to take a look behind your back every once in a while. Always watch your six. Ghost almost beat that into you once you started to go to the field with them.

Then, suddenly you hear something. You raise your rifle, scanning the abandoned buildings in front of you. You really didn’t wanna engage with any tangos. You were just a doctor…

You tried again to reach Price of Soap, Gaz even but they didn‘t answer, so your only option was to engage if you would be attacked.

You were looking down at Ghost again, praying that he‘d just stand up and say that it all was a joke and he was actually fine but you knew he didn‘t do stuff like that. Especially on missions.

„I swear to God Ghost if I kill someone today it‘s on you,“ you mumble, once again turning around to look behind you. Then you heard a shuffling sound. You yanked around, greeted by a tango running in your direction.

He was holding a hand grenade and you needed to make a short process. You raise your rifle and fire two precise shots. The man drops dead to the ground. You let out a shaky breath.

You leave your position above Ghost, hurrying over to the now dead man, taking away his gun and the grenade. You were lucky he didn‘t have it activated already.

You try to reach Price again or ask when the evac will arrive but then you see another tango running into your direction, hiding behind a brick of concrete.

„Oh fuck off,“ you curse, firing a couple of shots but he stayed hidden. Before you could fire another round you heard Price call your name.

„Mama? You okay?“

„Yea, just need a bit of help!“ you answer, more than glad that your Captain was finally there.

~

Ghost doesn’t talk to you for at least a week. You’re surprised when he shows up someday to ask you for pain killers.

You hand them to him, curiously eying him. “Is everything alright?” you ask him, leaning against your desk.

He only nods at you and you sigh.

“Well, then. Good luck with the next mission,” you force a smile at him. „I won‘t be tagging along since I have some important patients I need to keep an eye on,“ you quickly explain, not that he‘d care…

„Mhh,“ he simply nods and turns around to leave. You feel tears burning in your eyes. Why was he being like that? You’ve always been friends with him and joked around 24/7. So, why was he so distant towards you? You saved his life! Was that scratching on his ego the wrong way or what? You didn‘t know what to think anymore…

A familiar voice rips you out of your thoughts. You look up and see a soldier walking into your office.

„Lance Corporal Walker, how can I help you?“ You forcibly smile at the young soldier approaching you. He returns your smile.

„Hey Doc. Everything fine with the Lieutenant?“ he asks, looking into the direction Ghost left. You suppress a sign, nodding.

„Nothing to worry about.“ You push yourself away from the edge of the table, walking over to lay opposite of it. „Another wound I need to stitch up?“ you then ask, trying to redirect the topic of the conversation.

Walker laughs, sitting down on the lay. „Not exactly. I think I may have strained my shoulder,“ he explains, pointing towards his shoulder with his head.

„I believe that‘s a task for your physiotherapist, not me, no?“ You lightly chuckle, putting on gloves anyway.

„Maybe“, he smirks. „But I like you more than Markus. He‘s always so rough with me.“

„You're in the military Walker. You should be used to it,“ you laugh, instructing him to take off his shirt.

„I know, I am. But that doesn‘t mean I like it.“ He grins at you, his eyes quickly drifting to your lips. You don‘t notice that and continue examining his shoulder.

„Jesus, what did you do?“ you look up at him with shock. „Your muscles are far too tense!“ You let go of his shoulder, stripping off your gloves. „This will take a lot of PT…“

He groans in annoyance and puts his shirt back on. „So Markus it is?“ he asks, stretching his neck.

„Jup,“ you answer, pulling out his file to note his visit and your diagnosis. „I’ll call him as soon as possible so you can schedule your appointments with him“.

„Can I also schedule an appointment with you?“ he says with a hint of something in his voice and you freeze. What was he trying right now?

„You have another injury?“ you try to play dumb, turning around to look at him, file still in your hands. He smirks at you, closing the distance between you two. You take a step back.

„Nah,“ he shakes his head. „But there's a good place in town where the food‘s immaculate…“ his voice drops and he tries to cage you in against your desk.

„Stop it,“ you tell him in a firm voice, pushing him away. „I won‘t go out with you and you should know that.“ You walk towards the door of your office and open it. „Please leave now, Markus will contact you about your PT.“

“Come on Doc,” Walker almost whines and you want to laugh at how pathetic he’s being. “Just one dinner,” he continues to try but you shake your head.

“I said no and it’ll stay that way. Besides, I have someone waiting for me at home,” you say, keeping the fact that it was actually your dog from him.

As long as you had your husky, Nala, you were fine, you didn’t need anyone else. Except for that somebody…

Walker only snorts and walks past you. “If you ever change your mind, let me know.” He winks and leaves. You take a deep breath, closing the door behind you.

You’d always liked Walker in a way but you should’ve known that he’d take it the wrong way. They all did…

-

You’re woken up by a harsh and loud knock. You groan as you curse and roll out of bed. Who the fuck decided to knock on your door at—you check your bedside talke clock—freaking 2 AM?

You quickly throw on a hoodie—under frequent knocking—before you rip open your door.

You’re about to throw a tantrum but then you see who stands in front of your door. It’s Soap, covered in blood, his chest heaving from heavy breaths.

“Soap! Is- are you okay?” you start reaching out for him but he grabs your hand, shaking his head.

“Ghost,” he then cracks out, already pulling you along. Your world starts to spin. What is with Ghost? What happened? Was he okay?

All those questions ran around in your head as your friend and comrade pulled you into the med bay. “He…only wants- to be treated by… you ,” he pants out between heavy breaths, almost shoving you into one of the patient rooms.

And there he laid, in his blood covered uniform. You rush towards him, too scared to really touch him, so you let your hand ghost over his mask.

“What happened?” you turn to Soap, demanding an immediate answer.

“Ambush,” he only says, visibly swallowing. He was scared for his friend. He couldn’t lose Ghost, he was all he had left besides Price and Gaz.

And you of course…

That wasn‘t the answer you needed. „I asked you once and I won‘t ask again Sergeant MacTavish. What happened?“ Your eyes turn dark as you stare at Soap, waiting for the so desperately needed answer.

„Two hits,“ he then says. „One in the shoulder, one in the leg. And multiple knife slashes…“ he then says, fidgeting with his hands. You nod, straightening you back.

„Find one of the nurses and let yourself get patched up. Let me take care of the Lieutenant,“ you instruct him, already pulling a pair of gloves over your hands.

Soap stumbles out of the room, leaving you alone with Ghost. „Well, let‘s get to work,“ you mumble to yourself, getting all the supplies you‘d need. „You really can‘t look after yourself, can you?“

You sigh as you get to work, cleaning and patching up wound after wound. You don’t talk while you carefully stitch him together, only looking at him with worry in your eyes.

When you pull off his mask your hand lingers a little too long on his scarred cheek and when you realize you pull your hand back, as if it‘s been burned.

You shake your head, trying to sort out your thoughts. Ghost didn‘t like you that way, he never has! You needed to get that out of your head!

Your hands slightly tremble when you start to disinfect the little scars on his cheeks and on his nose and you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. You were trained for this, you could do your job under a pressure unknown to the majority of mankind, yet your hands are shaking almost uncontrollably as you think about the fact that you could lose Ghost any moment…

-

When Ghost wakes up he panics for a second. Where is he? Where is his mask? His hand shoots to the side of his leg where his handgun normally was but all his hand feels is a bandage.

He raises his head, groaning from the pain soaring through his body. What the bloody hell happened? He wants to sit up but when he tries to steady his body on his hands his left arm gives out immediately.

„Fuck,“ he curses, glancing at said shoulder. Another bandage. He must‘ve been hit on the last mission. He lets his eyes roam around, now sure of the fact that he was on base and in the med bay.

Then his eyes fall onto you. You sit on the ground, back popped up against the wall with your eyes closed. You’re sleeping…

You still wear your gloves, which are covered in blood. His blood probably.

He wants to leave.

You saved him. Again. His mind can‘t comprehend that. He should be the one looking after you, not you after him.

He tries to sit up once again but his body fails him. He would need to wait until, either, you woke up, or someone would walk in to check on him. He hoped for the latter.

He‘s been ignoring you for weeks—for his own good—and he didn‘t want to be confronted with you right now, not when he was weak and wounded…

He looks for his phone but it‘s not on the bedside table, so he figures Soap must have it. That fucker . He probably searched for you, even though he knew this was your night off.

Ghost didn‘t remember muttering your name over and over again, trying to fight the other medics who wanted to treat him. He only wanted you, only needed you. But, he didn‘t remember…

A quiet groan rips him out of his thoughts and his eyes snap into your direction. You were slowly waking up.

Briefly his eyes widen, then he decides to close them. Would be easier for him to just act like he‘s still asleep, instead of being confronted by you.

So, he closes his eyes and evens his breath. A couple meters to his left you stretch your limbs, slowly cursing yourself for falling asleep. Then your eyes fell to your hands and you curse again when you noticed that you were still wearing those blood drenched gloves.

You gaze then automatically drifts towards the bed and you see that Ghost is still sleeping. You let out a relieved breath. You wouldn’t have wanted him to see you like that…

You let out a quiet pained moan when you stand up and immediately discard the gloves. You shudder as your body realizes how cold the floor has been.

Before you leave the room you quietly walk to Ghost‘s bed and let your hand hover over his cheek. „I‘m sorry,“ you whisper. „I don‘t know what I did to…anger you but I‘m sorry…“

A single tear escapes your eye and before you can catch it it gently falls onto his bare hand. Your eyes widen and you quickly take a couple of steps back.

You make sure he doesn't wake up and then you leave, softly closing the door behind you.

-

Ghost goes back to ignoring you after he left the med bay and he hates himself for it. He doesn‘t want to ignore you but he can‘t allow himself to be weak. He needs to be strong, he can‘t afford to be vulnerable.

Everyone can see how much it hurts—not only—you but also Ghost. He talks even less, his jokes are more than forced and he doesn‘t even bicker with Soap anymore.

It’s even more obvious with you. You spend most of the time in your quarters, barely leaving them if you weren‘t working or on your way home. Price and Soap are worried about you, as well as Gaz but you’re blocking out any of their efforts to talk to you. You only wanted Ghost…

You knew you both never…were anything serious—not even close—but he still was one of your best friends and you were missing him. You still didn‘t fully understand why he was so cold to you and it was slowly breaking you.

You lay in your bed, face down, thinking about what you possibly could‘ve done wrong to piss Ghost off that much. You couldn‘t live with not knowing what you did.

You get dragged out of your thoughts when you hear a curt nod. You groan and stand up. It probably was Soap, ready to annoy you again. You shuffle over to the door, rolling your eyes already.

„Fuck off Soap,“ you say while opening the door. Only problem, it wasn‘t Soap who knocked on your door.

You freeze when you’re met with Simon’s face. Not Ghost, no. He doesn’t wear his mask and also he was in sweatpants and a hoodie. This was Simon Riley standing in front of you and you were more than confused. What the hell was going on?

He stared down at you, clearly uncomfortable but he told himself that he finally needs to make things right with you. He didn‘t want to see you so hurt, knowing that it was his fault.

„Can I…come in?“ he asks, slightly tilting his head and for a minute you’re too perplexed to actually answer. Then you only nod and step aside to let him in. You wanted to know why he decided to show up at your door at a not really civil time…

You turn around to look at him and before you can get even one word out he starts to talk. „I’m sorry,“ he says, the words rolling off of his tongue like he‘s been practicing this for the last three hours. He had.

You want to say something but he raises his hand, not letting you have your say. „Please…“ he looks at you, a never before seen softness in his eyes. „Let me explain to you.“

You hesitatingly shake your head, heading over to your bed to sit down. He himself takes the chair, which is positioned in front of your desk, and places him a meter or two in front of your bed.

A chill runs down your spine as he looks at you, his eyes sharp but yet so soft and gentle. Something was going on with him but you couldn‘t name what exactly.

„I’ve been an ass,“ he starts and you can’t help but snort at that. Yes, he’s been an ass. A massive one. As you look at him you see one corner of his mouth slightly twitching. Was that a smirk?

„I want to apologize to you,“ and then he says your real name and you’re a goner. He never called you by your name, always your call sign… But you did the same with him, no? Always calling him Ghost and never Simon…

You want to say something, want to ask him why , but he keeps talking. You’ve never heard him talk so much in your whole life…

“I’ve been unfair to you and…and I’ve realized that now.” He averts his gaze and you notice him fidgeting with his fingers. Oh, he was nervous-nervous.

And when he doesn’t speak up again you take it as your change. “Why?”, you ask him, slightly raising your chin. You still didn’t understand and maybe you also didn’t want to. In all the years you’ve worked together he never acted like he’s been acting these past weeks, almost months .

“Becase I have a fucked up ego,” he looks at you again and you want to laugh because it’s such a stupid answer but when your eyes meet his you know that he’s being serious.

“Care to, uh, elaborate?” you raise an eyebrow, again not understanding him.

He leans back in the chair, stretching his legs a little bit before sitting normally on the chair again. “I’m the one supposed to protect you. Not you me,” he then says in a calm voice and you’re this close to rolling your eyes.

You want to ask him if it’s because you’re weak or whatever but he doesn’t let you talk.

“You killed for me,” he calls you by your name again. “I shouldn’t have let it come so far…” He starts to fidget with his hands again. “Killing…is my job. Not yours. You’re way too pure for that.”

“Simon-“ you call him by his real name without even noticing but he interrupts you.

“I’m being serious!” his leg starts to bounce up and down. “My hands were destined to kill. Yours…yours were destined for the opposite.” He avoids looking at you and you decide to stand up.

You walk over to him and stand directly in front of him, almost between his legs. “Look at me,” you say. He doesn’t. “Simon,” you say again, your voice stern this time. “I said, look at me. ” This time, he does.

He looks up at you and for a split second it looks like he swallowed; as if he was scared ?

“I killed that man because it was my only choice. If I hadn’t you and I wouldn’t be here today, so please- please stop acting like it was something I did because I wanted to. I didn’t. I needed to,” you try to explain but you can see in his eyes that it doesn‘t convince him.

„You shouldn’t have to, though,“ he almost whispers. „I should‘ve been more careful so you don’t need to come into the field. You could‘ve gotten hurt.“ His voice almost breaks at the end of the sentence and a shiver runs down your spine. Was he really that scared of…losing you?

Your hand is itching, wanting to reach it for his face but you manage to keep it to yourself. „Simon…“ you then sigh. „I know what I signed up for when I took the job. I‘m able to look out for myself. “

You wait for his answer but indead his hand reaches out for yours and he gently takes it. He caresses every knuckle with his thumb, the feeling of his calloused fingers against your skin sending another shiver down your spine.

And then, he pulls you into his lap with one swift motion. You shriek as he wraps his other arm around your waist. This feels…weird . But in a good way!

„I know you can take care of yourself,“ he murmurs into your hair as he starts to hug you. „I know it damn well but still, I want to be the one to take care of you.“

Your voice is stuck in your throat at that. He wants to what? Your head starts to get clouded. Could your feelings not be…one sided? Was that possible?

„You make me weak,“ he says, his voice suddenly all husky. His hands are still caressing your hand and waist and you feel like you’re drunk from his touch alone. „You distract me. You make me go crazy… Whenever I see that you’re in danger or that someone else who isn‘t… me talks to you I almost lose it,“ he confesses and you’re not sure if you’re hearing correctly.

„What are you trying to tell me Simon,“ you force yourself to talk, your head dizzy and your thoughts blurry. Was he really about to confess to you?

„I like you. More than I probably should but… I just can‘t ignore it anymore .“ He pulls away from you to really look at you but you just stare. Did he really just say that? Did your silent dreams and pleas come true? What the fuck?

„I know I‘ve hurt you and I‘m sorry. I didn‘t want to accept it and…I‘ve been scared that you maybe won‘t feel the same.“ He cups your face with one hand and gently brushes his thumb over your cheek.

„I don’t know what to say,“ you reply in a quiet, almost insecure voice while leaning into his touch. You wanted this. You really did but he hurt you and you couldn‘t just ignore that…

„You don’t need to say something,“ he hums. „Just let me show you that I‘m sorry and that I‘m for real. Let me make it up to you.“ He looks at you and waits for your answer. He wasn‘t sure if he‘d be able to accept a no but he would need to. He didn‘t want to hurt you—like he did those past weeks—ever again.

After a couple moments of silence and a few rushed thoughts you hesitatingly nod and a smile spreads on his face. „You won‘t regret it sweetheart,“ he promises, gently pulling your face down to plant a loving kiss on your forehead.

„You won‘t regret it.“

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fan fiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost fan fiction #ghost call of duty #ghost cod

[y0urm4m]

My kind of man.

(Based of this song but instead of a Matt Pov it’s a reader pov but when writing I almost immediately thought of this song)

Warnings/description: mentions of sexual interactions, Angst to fluff 🤷‍♀️. (Sorry for the no smut this time 😪)

Writing comp: @bratzforchris @nicksbestie

Word count: 2,010

Story elements tried to use/used: angst,fluff, Friends with benefits,home.

╒═══════✰°

I sighed staring down at my phone, 3 notifications from Matt.

We had always been friends and nothing more but recently things had taken a turn. We had decided to be friends with benefits, ‘no strings attached’ were his exact words.

The first few months were fine, we’d meet up, either go out or stay at home and at the end of the day we’d find ourselves out of breath, tangled in one another’s bedsheets. I couldn’t help but admit I always had a thing for Matt, I just could never find the confidence to tell him. It was sad to admit but I was scared of how he’d react.

I decided to talk to Kiara for advice, she had been my friend since before I could walk, I just hoped she was able to help. Unfortunately, she sighed pulling me in for a hug. “I’m only trying to help but from what you’re saying, it seems to me that it’s not just ‘no strings attached’. I can tell by the way your face lights up at Matt’s messages or when he knocks to pick you up, that must mean you feel like there’s a genuine connection.” As the words left her mouth, a few tears fell. “I hate how emotions always get the better of me.” I sobbed into her shoulder. “I know you do, I hate seeing you upset. I just want to help.” Kiara sighed softly, hugging me tighter. The rest of the day I couldn’t even bear answering his messages without bawling my eyes out.

That was the day i stopped doubting my feelings for Matt but I couldn’t relate when thinking about how he felt.

My attention was brought back to my phone buzzing, of course it was Matt. I answered the phone. “Good morning Mathew.” I huffed. “Morning, what you doing today?” He asked. “Literally nothing, why?” I replied, looking at my self in my bathroom mirror. “You want me to come pick you up?” He said. “Sure, give me at least ten minutes to get dressed.” I sighed, brushing my hand through my hair. I looked like death. “Y’know you don’t have to worry about clothes with me, they’ll just end up creased on the floor.” He joked. “I’ll see you in 10 Matt.” I replied ending the phone, taking a deep breath.

— I finished brushing my hair when I heard my door open. “Hey do y- you’re going to Matt’s again?” She muttered, closing my door behind her. I nodded. “I’m sorry ki.” I said, turning to look at her. “No need to apologise but you really need to talk to him about how you’re feeling. You tell me your happy but I know you’re not.” She added, rubbing my shoulder. My face dropping at her words. She was right, she was always right. My bottled up thoughts and feelings were making me miserable and driving me crazy.

Just as if Matt had known we were talking about him, my phone started ringing. “Right I need to go, I promise I’ll text you when I’m there.” I said, hugging her before beginning to walk downstairs. “Hey y/n, please talk to him.” She whisper-spoke, giving me a small reassuring smile. I nodded, rushing out the door so I wasn’t leaving him waiting.

— The car ride was silent apart from a little small talk here and there and the dreaded feeling that was in my stomach. I felt Matt’s hand move from the gear stick, toward my upper thigh. “You okay?” He asked, looking at me slightly before looking back towards the road. I gulped, trying to stop the feeling of the lump forming in my throat and nodded looking down at my finger nails that I had bitten the night prior.

After what had felt like an eternity, we had made it to Matt’s. I slipped out of the car door, walking straight through the front door as Matt also entered the house. I felt his arms slither around my waist as he placed his head in the crook of my neck leaving small kisses on my neck. He mumbled something incoherent. “What did you say?” I asked, pulling away to slightly glancing at him. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled pulling my face towards his, our lips inches away from each other. I could feel his hot breath on my upper lip as the gap between us closed. At first it was just a soft peck but eventually it became a rough and passionate kiss, one of his hands made there way back towards my waist the other finding comfort in resting on the top of my bum. He pulled away places soft kisses down my face and up my neck as he whispered. “Should we take this upstairs.” Before returning his lips to mine.

Kiara’s words from earlier began playing on replay in my head. ‘You really need to talk to him about how you’re feeling.’ I immediately pulled away, Matt’s face shone with concern. “Are you sure you are okay?” He asked, looking down at me. “Uh- yeah I think I just need some more sleep or something.” I replied, rubbing my hand over my face, trying to play of the fact I could’ve bursted into tears if he asked if I was okay one more time. “Oh do you want to take a nap?” He said, running his hand through the back of my hair. “No it’s fine, I’m just going to use the bathroom quickly.” I said, ushering myself over towards the bathroom.

I couldn’t even tell him I’ve been having a bad day let alone a bad month, all because I just can’t seem to talk to him as I never planned on ‘catching feelings’. I pulled out my phone, messaging Kiara. She told me to stop doubting myself and just tell him. I looked in the mirror, recollecting my thoughts before walking back out the bathroom to be greeted by a confused Matt.

“Matt can we have a sit down and talk, like a proper conversation?” I asked, sitting down at his kitchen counter. “What about?” He asked, following me to the kitchen like a lost sheep. “Just sit.” I sighed, rubbing my hand on my thighs to calm my nerves. Once he had finally sat down I began speaking, the only other thing that could be heard was the sound of the rain hitting the ground outside. “I know this is all of a sudden and I’m sorry but I just can’t live with the pressure of not saying anything and I know we said no strings attached but this past month has been killing me and I just really needed to speak to you.” I ranted on, watching his smile drop. “I- uh- I don’t get your point. I’m sorry” He sighed, brushing his hand through his own hair. “You don’t need to understand Matt but I need to get this off my chest.” I said, taking a deep breath to try and stop myself from crying. I looked up at Matt, his face stayed straight with no emotion which made me bite my lip doubtfully.

Maybe this was a bad idea, I should have just stayed home.

I stood up from my seat. “Y’know don’t worry about it Matt I’m just going to leave and I’ll make my own way home so don’t worry.” I sniffled, trying to fight back the tears forming in my water line. “Wait why are you going.” He shouted following me. “Doesn’t matter. Please just leave me alone.” I said softly and with that I walked straight out the door.

The current rain immediately got me soaked and cold. I’m so embarrassed, I wish my feelings just wouldn’t get the better of me. The tears I had tried so hard to keep in eventually fell as I sobbed, walking a few meters down the street before looking down at my phone.

My teeth chattered as I unlocked my phone calling Kiara. “Kiara.” I said, looking at my phone screen. “Y/n are you outside in the rain, what happened?” She asked, clearly confused and concerned. “I tried to talk to him but I couldn’t bear hearing his reply so I walked out.” I replied, as my breathing became shaky and the tears fell once again. “Y/n I’m coming to pick you up, I’ll stay on the phone but try to stay out the rain so you don’t get a cold.” She said, as the sound of her rushing around filled my ears. “Okay.” I said, sniffling. “Right I’m going to leave now, do you want me to stay on the phone?” She asked, as I heard the door slam behind her. “If you wa-.” I began speaking but someone shouting my name caught my attention.

“Wait up!” Matt shouted, running towards me himself also getting drenched. My body trembling even more from the feeling of my cold, wet t-shirt and my damp hair sticking to my skin. “What do you want Matt?” I choked out, ending the phone and telling kiara I’d talk to her later. He looked down at me, pulling off his jumper passing it to me. “I don’t want your jumper, you’ve made it pretty clear of your intentions so leave me alone.” I spat, shoving the jumper into his arms. “C’mon y/n don’t be like that.” Matt spoke softly. “Matt i really don’t want to talk right now, I’ve already said too much.” I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. “Please just put on the jumper and let me speak.” He pleaded, passing the jumper back to me. “I’ll take the jumper then but I’m not interested in what you have to say.” I huffed, pulling his jumper over my head and on.

“Y/n just listen, I never wanted it to be this way if you had told me how you felt months ago I would have asked you properly.” He sighed. “Get to the point Matt.” I rolled my eyes, shoving my phone in my pocket and crossing my arms. “Y/n I wished you’d realise how much you mean to me, I love you.” He said, as I took a sharp inhale as the last words left his mouth. “Wh-what.” I said, finally looking up at him for the first time since he’d ran after me. The whole world stopping as I took time to reassess the what he had just said.

“I- I love you.” He sighed, running his hand through my hair. “I uh-.” I began speaking but before I could finished my sentence, I felt his lips smash into mine. “I really do love you.” He whispered into the kiss. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, his finding their way around my waist. The smell of a mixture of his cologne and the rain filled my nose as my heart skipped a beat, we had kissed many times before but this time it felt different. It felt genuine. It was as if the world around us had disintegrated, leaving just me and Matt.

I pushed my hand through his now wet hair as he pulled back, the feeling of his lips on mine disappearing. “I want to start over, not just a silly situantionship. I want an actual relationship with you, we can learn from each other and our past mistakes but only if you’d like to.” He said, putting his hands in mine. “I’d love to.” I smiled, nodding my head. The dull, dreaded feeling I had felt the past month had washed away as the rain poured. “Let’s go inside, can’t have you getting a cold.” He said, giving my head a quick, light and cold kiss as we walked back towards his house hand in hand. “I love you Matt.” I said looking to the side, up at him. “I know you do.” He chuckled, looking down at me.

I had Matt and he had me. He was all I could have asked for. It was a genuine connection. It really was love.

°✰═══════╛

A/n: honestly don’t know how to feel about this one as it was super short but I hope you all liked it and enjoyed reading — hugs and kisses Gracie 💋

Tag list: @junnniiieee07 @patscorner @mattyb4dominicans @watercolorskyy @brooklynn0103 @imwetforyourmom

#bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge #matt sturniolo fanfic #mathew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #mattsturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #Spotify

[neteyamsyawntu]

And So She Danced with Death

Dark!Neteyam x Na’vi! Reader fic

👉Chapter 2

Disclaimer!: All canon characters in ATWOW that appear in ASSDWD are all aged up by 5 years.

Synopsis: You are mated to Neteyam before his death and the impact it had on you was catastrophic. Your entire world had shattered, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to dwell on mourning, making it an obligation to your deceased mate to take up his role in watch after his siblings. After a first RDA raid on Awa’atlu, Neteyam has been resurrected by the RDA now being mind controlled to fight against his family and you. After your first encounter seeing Neteyam back from the dead, you know that he isn’t his true self… maybe there is a way to bring him back.

WARNINGS: angst, SOO much angst, choking, mentions of death, near death experience, evil Neteyam

(I wrote this up on my iPhone so I apologize if the spacing between paragraphs is a lil wonky)

A piercing ring filled your ears, your vision slowly coming back into focus as you took in the sight of Awa’atlu ablaze. You blinked rapidly wondering if maybe your eyes had betrayed you, not wanting to believe the reality you were in, when the sound of screams began to materialize in your ears along side a muffled voice that seemed close by. With a sudden tug at your bicep, you whirl your head around to see Neytiri frantically trying to pull you up, Tuktirey cradled against her chest.That’s when it all became clear. This nightmare was real, and if you didn’t act fast you would die.

Finally realizing Neytiri’s voice screaming for you to move lit a instant fire in you to get your family to safety. You sprung to your feet, grasping onto Neytiri’s shoulder for support steadying your balance, “Come child! Come!” She pleaded, tugging you along. Ahead of you, Metkayina na’vi were frantically gathering their families and diving into the ocean for protection to get as far away from the flames as possible. You noticed amongst the commotion was Lo’ak guiding Kiri, Tsireya, and her family away from their burning home. Your eyes quickly looked behind you as you pulled away from Neytiri’s grasp, scanning the burning marui for any sign of Jake or Spider, who you had noticed wasn’t in the retreating group. You then spotted an air ship hovering above the water, which seemingly had been the one to deploy the attack on Awa’atlu. Jake must be there. “Y/N we must go!” Neytiri yelled to you attempting to grab your arm once more, to which you ducked grabbing a discarded spear near by. “Go, get yourself and Tuk out of here! I will go help Jake”and with that you take off toward the ship dodging debris and corpses of fallen na’vi. As you neared closer to the ship you spotted Jake, taking cover under what looked to be a broken bridge to one of the marui. As you neared closer you heard a familiar voice and immediately ducked for cover. It was him, Quaritch the leader of the recoms, “Come on Jake you know you can’t hide forever, I think we both remember last time you didn’t follow my instructions… still a shame about what happened to your boy” the faux na’vi sneered, cockiness dripping in his words. You grimaced, ears falling flat against your head as scenes from that day flashed in your mind. Neteyam, your mate, the life draining from his eyes as you held his face in your hands, trembling and sobbing uncontrollably.

Taking in a shaky breath you readied yourself to move forward, making eye contact with Jake signaling your intent. He nodded back to you, a pained expression on his face as he recalled his own events of that day. Clearing your mind of any distraction you surveyed the area for more weapons, to which you noted 2 more spears and a cross bow, abandoned in the sand. Taking one final breath and acknowledging Jake’s approval you lunged from behind cover and chucked the spear in Quaritch’s direction, aiming for his chest. Almost a near perfect hit, when he dodged last minute, missing your mark entirely. With a hiss you pick up the cross bow and gathered as many arrows as you could, taking cover behind debris while Jake made his own charge, firing his gun at his target, before following your lead and taking refuge behind another piece of debris. You huffed aiming your cross bow in the same direction as before and firing a shot that skimmed the enemy’s bicep creating a deep gash in the muscle. With an agonized holler Quaritch grabbed his arm, dipping to take his own cover. Quaritch commanded something over his radio, scooting himself further into cover. You took this time to move closer lifting the cross bow to strike once more. Before you had a chance to pull the trigger, a metallic arrow shot past your head with an audible woosh.

Shaking off the shock quickly you step back and aim your cross bow at the offender. That was the moment your blood ran cold. You immediately began to feel an ice cold sweat start to infest your body, fighting against the heat of the flames around you. There at the entrance of the air ship, tail lifted high into the air in defiance, muscles flexed as his body readied for another strike, braided hair shaping his strong face. It couldn’t be, your eyes must be playing tricks on you, but then you noticed his own eyes staring into you, the same deep gold that mesmerized you so effortlessly. Yet they were not the same. Something was off. Those once soft eyes you held so dearly, now burned holes into you as if they were made of fire themself. His brow bone bore a heavy shadow over his eyes his nostrils flared. Your eyes then drifted to his lips, although most of his face was hidden by the strung bow, you could see his lips were pulled into a thin line. The same face he’d make when he was deep in focus, but it was furious. You’d never seen so much anger emitted from this… thing in your life. You knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t your mate. He was gone and dead. Whatever this demon was, it wasn’t your Teyam… it couldn’t be.

“Well I see you’ve met our newest recruit” you heard the same snide voice from your peripheral, “although I don’t think any real introduction is in order. Why don’t you come out and see your family, boy” with his bow still drawn, the phantom slowly made his way down the ramp, his eyes never leaving yours, “Neteyam?!” Jake called out as confusion and concern painted his features. This was the one thing that took the demon’s look away from you as he now aimed his weapon at his father, “Not expecting to see me were you father? It has been a while” he spoke with a low growl. Fury pouring off his tongue, but why you didn’t understand. If this really was Neteyam why would he be holding his father at ‘gun point’, eager to fire his weapon. “What did you do to my son?” Jake grimaced turning his attention to Quaritch who had now stood up to his full height, stepping next to Neteyam, “oh well isn’t it obvious? We patched him up. Times have changed Jake, you’d be amazed at what technology can do now. Even brining back old faces” he finished, patting Neteyam on the shoulder who didn’t even flinch at the contact. “Ma’Teyam…” you whispered to yourself in disbelief, loud enough for the clone to catch, causing his ear to twitch in your direction. Quaritch eyed you with a smirk then leaned into Neteyam’s ear, “that’s your woman right? Why not go say hi to your lover?” He mused before leaning away and crossing his arms. Neteyam eyed Jake before lowering his weapon, slowly shifting to make his way to you. Your heart clenched as you finally noticed the scar on his chest from the bullet wound. How? How had they managed to save him from something so fatal? You raised your cross bow higher as he drew near, he raised his hands a bit in surrender, “yawne..” he hummed longingly, yet you didn’t fail to notice his eyes were still glazed over in anger “DONT call me that!” You spat, as a tear emerged from the corner of your eye. You cursed yourself as you began to tremble at his presence, “you are not my mate, you cannot be him!” You hissed. Neteyam clicked his tongue as he inches closer to you, “my love I’ve missed you, please” he begged, a pinch of sincerity in his voice almost making him sound believable… if it weren’t for those eyes. “KEHE!(get back)” You ordered as you inched your finger over the trigger of the crossbow, but it was too late, he was too close now.

Neteyam took the opportunity to disarm you in one swift movement and knock you to the ground with a shallow punch to your gut knocking the wind out of you landing harshly against the sand. You could hear Jake calling your name as sparkles danced in your vision trying to catch your breath, only to be met with a fierce hand around your throat, the demon you’d now come to recognize straddling your waist, pinning you to the ground. Now you were face to face with him, you could truly see him. This wasn’t a clone, it was indeed your mate, back from the dead. You shivered under his touch as the control you had over your tears dissipated into nothing. Your lip began to tremble “Ma’Teyam..” you wheezed under the pressure on your throat, “Don’t call me that” he spat right back at you baring his fangs. You whimpered closing your eyes not wanting to believe the reality that was so plainly in front of you, “what did they do to you Nete?” You let out in silent sobs. He scoffed, causing you to open your eyes in disbelief at his reaction, “they did what none of you could. They saved me” he hissed adding more pressure to your throat, causing you to desperately claw at his hand in desperation as you began to feel yourself slipping away.

“NETEYAM!” Jake yelled from across the beach a choked plea, which earned a dark chuckle from Quaritch, “See.. I’m not a bad guy Sully. I’ll call him off if you surrender and come aboard willingly. You don’t have to loose another kid” he said with a tilt of his head, eyes focused on Jake watching for his next move. Jake gritted his teeth shaking his head lightly as he started to feel his own throat clench up, tears threatening to prickle his eyes, “Neteyam! Come on look at me boy, you don’t wanna do this.” He begged fighting for your life from the sidelines. Neteyam grunted trying to ignore the words of his father while your nails dig into his skin desperate to get air into your lungs. “Please Neteyam c’mon! If you do this, no matter what bullshit they are feeding you, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life! You have a choice!” Jake pleaded once more.

You whimpered up at the man above you, for a second you thought you witnessed a glimpse of conflicting thoughts played in his features, and as your vision began to blur you used whatever strength you had to reach your hand up to rest weakly on his cheek. For a moment Neteyam froze, the pressure on your throat weakening as he narrowed his eyes scanning your features, taking it all in and comparing it to past memories he had of you. He was going to stop, he was listening, you thought. From across the beach Jake, having given up with peaceful negotiating growled“fuck it” firing his gun at Quaritch landing a few serious shots. Quaritch fell back clutching a wound on his chest, the sound breaking Neteyam out of his trance, looking over his shoulder to witness the assault. Getting one last look at your strained face, Neteyam releases his grasp on you before bolting over to Quaritch, using the momentum to fall back and slide on his hip to get out of range and pull Quaritch behind cover, immediately putting pressure on his wound. Jake halted his fire rushing to your side perching your head against the crease of his arm as he lifted you into his lap, “I got you kiddo, I got you” he cooed aiming his gun with his free hand at his son and biggest enemy as a warning. Neteyam glared up at him, baring his teeth as he helped Quaritch to his feet, an arm slung around his shoulders “is the kid secure?” He asked Neteyam, eyes heavy from the loss of blood, “Yes sir, Spider is currently restrained on the ship”. Quaritch knodded in acknowledgment and with a wave of his hand motioned for them to fall back, with Neteyam immediately leading them back to the aircraft.

Jake ground his teeth together as he watched his eldest son leave with the enemy, his heart clenching at the sight. His brain raced with the question of how he would break the impossible news to his family later, but for now he focused back on you. As the aircraft took off, Jake tossed his weapon to the side, putting his ear to your chest to listen for a pulse. It was weak and your eyes slowly started to close, tears and dots both making your vision fuzzy. “No no no, come on kid stay with me. Don’t you dare go to sleep on me” he warned quickly adjusting your position to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation in order to get air into your lungs faster. With a handful of pumps to your chest and exchange of airflow, you soon released a strained cough as you let your lungs fill slowly with fresh air. Tears started to flow from your eyes once more as the realization began to hit all at once, “Shh shh I know baby girl, come on let’s get you out of here” Jake whispered in attempts to soothe your pain, carefully lifting you into his arms, making his way to the edge of the shore. You wouldn’t make it in water for too long, so with a high pitched “YIP” he summoned his ikran, who landed eagerly on the sand before you. Mounting with you laying against his chest, Jake swiftly made the bond and flew off the island to reunite with his family and the rest of the remaining metkayina. You weakly glanced down as you flew away from yet another home, watching the flames consume the marui below.

Taglist:

@tiredmamaissy

(Tagging you lovelies since you were part of post that started this, just lmk if you wanna be taken off it)👇

@neytris

@jakexneytiri

@jake-sullys-whore

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatarsmut #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar twow #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #dark neteyam #love hate relationship

[pjohoo-reclists]

Percy Jackson in Tartarus Fic Recs

A list of fics where Percy ends up in Tartarus and is forced to push his strength and powers to the extreme to survive. For similar content, I would recommend checking out my Dark Percy Jackson and Powerful Percy Jackson rec lists. Enjoy!

Pick My Poison by Bluestone_Dragon 

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Dark Annabeth Chase, Blood bending

When Percy confronts Akhlys, Annabeth doesn't turn away.

Dominus Veneni by Death_o7

T | 1.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Tartarus, Cussing

HoO glossed over Percy's outburst in Tartarus too fast so I'm making an one shot from it.

Mind Control by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson, Percy controls poison

Tartarus had its own rules. Fire was drinkable. The ground was the body of a dark god. The air was acid, and demigods could be turned into smokey corpses. Compared to that, the idea of controlling poisons was… easy. Percy glared at the poisonous lake around him. He focused, and reached with the part of his mind that allowed him to control water. The poisonous tide stopped. The fumes blew away from him and back towards the goddess. The lake of poison rolled toward her in tiny waves and rivulets. Akhlys took a hesitant step back. “What is this?!” She looked alarmed, scared even. Percy thought it was a good look on her. “Poison,” Percy snarled at her. “That’s your specialty, right?”

in your veins by ireekofinsolence

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Blood bending, Fluff and Angst

He hated it. What Tartarus did to him. What he did in Tartarus. What he became.

A Game of Chess by tiredpjofan

G | 1.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Annabeth Chase, Blood bending

The fumes blew away from him – back towards the goddess. The lake of poison rolled towards her in tiny waves and rivulets. Akhlys shrieked. ‘What is this?’ ‘Poison,’ Percy said. ‘That’s your speciality, right?’ He stood, his anger growing hotter in his gut. As the flood of venom rolled towards the goddess, the fumes began to make her cough. Her eyes watered even more. Oh, good, Percy thought. More water. Percy imagined her nose and throat filling with her own tears. Akhlys gagged. ‘I –’ The tide of venom reached her feet, sizzling like droplets on a hot iron. She wailed and stumbled back. (Extract from 'House of Hades') -- What if Annabeth reacted differently to this scene? What if she encouraged it?

bury me underneath this bloody grave by keigold

M | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Bob | Iapetus

Blood bending, Powerful Percy Jackson, Angst

There is no one here to stop him from reaching out with a bruised hand and snagging monster blood, grabbing ahold of their dancing molecules and tearing them apart - no one here to stop his descent into becoming the thing he feared the most. or; What if Percy went through Tartarus alone?

Rescue Mission by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 7.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Protective Poseidon, Hurt Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson

The elevator opened about two dozen cyclops immediately exited the doors. Unlike the cyclops serving in Tartarus and Gaea’s army, these were fitted head to toe with celestial bronze armor and weaponry. As soon as they stepped out of the Doors of Death, they assumed their thirty foot tall size. At the center of the group, Annabeth caught sight of a thirty foot tall figure eluding power - even more so than Bob, Hyperion, Krios, and Damasen combined. He was covered head to toe in armor, and held a huge green trident in his right hand. He looked furious, but also somewhat familiar. “No.” Hyperion said, in disbelief. "No - you Olympians, you never interfere-" "POSEIDON!" Tartarus snarled angrily. The sheer power in the primordial's words threatened to tear Annabeth's body apart. “Dad.” Percy croaked. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, with a terrifying amount of injuries and broken bones. Even more blood dripped out of his mouth, but his eyes were fixed on Poseidon. ~~~ Aka. Poseidon hears his favorite son suffering in the pit and rescues him.

Kill the Hero by maverickk

T | 13k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Betrayal, Dark Percy Jackson, Feral Percy Jackson

"A slow death!" Misery had crowed at him. "A death from a thousand poisons!" And it was. It was slow, and painful, and terrible, and Percy wished he could he could say he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies. But it wasn't his death, it was Akhlys's—and she deserved so much worse. In which Percy Jackson goes A Bit Too Far, Annabeth Chase gets A Bit Too Scared, and the story changes for the worse.

Woven within the Chasm by Valenna

M | 14k+ | Ongoing as of 23/6/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Powerful Percy Jackson, Blood bending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Percy manages to save Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. It just so happens that he can't save himself, Nico stumbles after him in a desperate attempt to rescue before they are both sent plummeting into the abyss. Annabeth is tasked to lead the remaining Seven on the quest to meet the two demigods on the opposite side at the Doors of Death, meanwhile Percy and Nico fight through the perilous hellscape, pain and torture in every direction. Through hardship, strengthening bonds, and some much needed conversations, Percy and Nico forge a bond stronger than Tartarus itself.

The Stories Of Tartarus (Are Better Left Untold) by AthenaHyperFox

Not Rated | 17k+ | Ongoing as of 2/8/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson/Apollo, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Powerful Percy Jackson, No beta we die like Percy's self esteem, Deity Percy Jackson

Perseus was always meant for more. What if Percy ignored Annabeth’s pleas down in the depths of Tartarus?

those shattered glass shards, blood flows like a river by with_magic

T | 18k+ | Ongoing as of 9/8/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Percy falls alone, Dark Percy Jackson, Curse of Achilles

something inside him cracked - like a crystal ball had shattered in his stomach. percy falls into tartarus. he wasn’t supposed to go alone.

build me up from bones by phronima 

T | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Jason Grace

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Jason Grace, Ascension

“We should look for the Doors of Death,” Jason suggested, frowning at the barren landscape. “Nico found it, right?” “Along with most of Gaea’s army, yeah,” Percy reminded him, but it was their only shot at getting out. “I asked him to lead the others there. Uh, up through the sunny path.” Jason squeezed his hand carefully, an attempt at a smile on his lips. “Then we’ll meet them there.” (Or: Percy and Jason fall into Tartarus together, leaving the mortal world behind for the horrors of the pit. They are forced to journey through the darkness, battling monsters and gods, while stuck in a desperate tug-of-war between death and immortality.)

my throne of destruction by DiveInsideMyMind

T | 53k+ | Ongoing as of 4/4/23

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Nico di Angelo, Betrayal

Enemy. The word never even came close to describing him before. But now? Now it’s the only word that could accurately categorize the person he’s become. And he doesn’t hate it. previously titled “God Damn Right You Should be Scared of Me” (Blood bender Percy Jackson)

Eclipse of Olympus by MementoVivere11

G | 91k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Destiny, Romance, Dark

Percy and Annabeth never made it out of Tartarus, just as the Gods intended. To protect themselves from a prophecy that warned of Olympus’ end, the Gods kept it a secret from all but a few demigods. But with Gaea on the verge of waking, and without two of Olympus’ greatest heroes, can the Gods still achieve victory? Even if they do, will their actions stop the secret prophecy from coming to pass?

Blood-Red Herring by DAsObiQuiet

T | 142k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Tartarus Survival, BAMF Percy Jackson, Monsters

The Olympian gods have a history of making monumentally bad decisions and not learning from their mistakes. Of course that'll come back to bite them, and everyone seems to think Percy will be the one doing the biting. Thing is, he's tired and just wants to live a normal life. Too bad literally no one believes him except his friends, and now he has to survive the consequences of yet another one those monumentally bad decisions. AKA: Tartarus nearly destroyed Percy the first time, in more ways than one. It's worse the second time. So much worse. And this time, he has no way out. He desperately clings to the one thing he knows without a doubt: 'I have to stay alive for when Annabeth comes for me'. Because she will.

Tempting the Fates by likegallows

T | 144k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Action/Adventure, Slow build, Angst

The seven have uncovered the Athena Parthenos and are scrambling to save the world, and their camps, all on a tight deadline. And then Annabeth and Percy teeter on the edge of the pit. Though he saves Annabeth, Nico fails to save Percy and the two plummet into the abyss. The child of Poseidon must battle monsters, Titans, and the darker side of his own growing powers alongside the son of the Underworld. In Tartarus, the most ferocious demons are their own. To save the world they must survive, but to survive they must learn to trust the other and most importantly to forgive.

Falling For You by 1967HogwartsGoddess

T | 270k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & The Seven

BAMF Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson, Blood bending

In an alternate series of events, Percy saves Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. Too bad he can't save himself. As Annabeth leads the Seven on a treacherous quest to meet him at the Doors of Death, Percy fights through a wasteland of pain, torture and difficult choices. Surrounded by monsters, alone in the darkest corner of the underworld, he starts to question whether he's a good kid anymore. Final chapter is an AU following on from chapter 66.

#hoo #bloodbending #percy jackson #pjo #rick riodan #rec list #percy jackson and the olympians #rrverse #ao3 #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #jason grace #percy x annabeth #percy x nico #percy x jason #powerful percy #dark percy #tartarus #percy in tartarus #bamf percy jackson

[houseofhyde]

aemond doesn't know...

pairing. modern!aegon targaryen x fem!reader

synopsis. ...that aegon and you do it in his van every sunday.

warnings. modern au, fuckbuddy!aegon, best friend!aemond, artist!aemond, drummer!aegon, light angst, smut (p in v, creampie, hair pulling, light anal play (?), use of slut.)

word count. 1.5k

hyde’s input. happy valentines, guys, gals and whores! <3 i was supposed to be posting a daemon smut but i got sidetracked bc scotty doesn't know by lustra came on shuffle and, well, my mind is hyperactive. my attraction to aegon is purely fueled by the fact i've been attracted to tom glynn carney since dunkirk. not completely comfortable writing for him yet though, so i may end up restricting myself to only writing modern aus when it comes to aegon. fic has not been edited!!

taglist. i've chosen not to tag anyone as this is the first time i'm posting for this character and am unsure who on my taglist is comfortable reading aegon fics.

let’s get one thing clear: you are not dating aemond targaryen.

sure, he walks you to class every morning despite his own being on the other end of campus; and drags himself out of bed at one, two, three in the morning to pick you up on the nights you work the closing shift. and, ok, he brings you out for lunch, and dinner, and home for the holidays. sure, he’s filled sketchbooks with drawings of you, he’s skipped out on lectures just to clean vomit out of your hair and last-nights make-up off your face, he’s almost stolen a handful of picture-perfect kisses beneath mistletoes and sunsets.

but, he’s never made his move.

so aegon feels no remorse for his love-struck brother as he rips off the red lace panties that conceal his latest best friend.

she’s always there for him, waiting with open arms- between open legs- and offering the warmest of hugs for his cock. she’s pretty and clean and tastes like a tangy peach, just a little too ripe but perfect for his liking.

“hey there sweetheart,” his voice, bouncing off the walls of the overheating vehicle, coos over his own excitement. she’s hard to resist, dribbling with sticky sweetness, and aegon swears- he swears!- that she winks at him, taunting him to slip inside to the promised land. “hmm, what’s that, darling? i missed you too.”

“would you stop talking to my pussy like it’s a person and hurry up!” and there you are to burst his bubble, on all fours with your skirt flipped up over your (in aegon’s opinion) perfectly shaped ass and trying oh so hard to not comment on the mess of empty beer cans and fast food wrappers and miscellaneous parts of a drum-set that occupy the unholy grounds of the back of aegon’s van.

“don’t listen to her, sugarplum,” you’d cringe at his choice of pet-name, were it not for the fact the insufferable bastard’s leaning down to press a kiss on your rear-cheeks, peaceful pecks concluded with the lewd- and unexpectedly intriguing- drag of his tongue over your asshole. you lurch forward, stopped only by the grasp of his hands on your hips. “she’s just jealous of what we have, always trying to get between us.”

he’s a cruel torturer, a sadist who gets a kick out of making you squirm and cry and ache for his touch. maybe it’s about the power it gives him, to see you so pliant and needy for naught but him. or perhaps it’s a point he’s needing to prove, to curse that stuck up little brother of his who’s always making comments on the women he choses to indulge himself him.

oh, what he’d give to have aemond stumble upon this scene of him, the puppet master, and you, the poor thing on a string, mouth dropping open in a quiet plea as aegon toys his thumb over your puckered hole, an unspoken threat to fill it before he so much as touches your soaked cunt.

“aegon, please!”

“hmm, i seriously need to get a recording of you saying that,” you don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s grinning like the cat that got the cream. nevertheless, you look, and what a sight he is: eyes more black than blue, hair a messed crown upon his head, hardened nipples the prettiest shade of blush pink. unlike you, he’s shamelessly nude for anyone to see, dare they stumble too close to the rocking van. “make it my ringtone, or put you on our debut record.”

you’ve no real clue who our encompasses, though you guess it’s whatever recent mediocre band the targaryen boy’s landed himself in.

the same band aemond keeps saying he needs to take you to see, a so called night-of-laughter you need away from all those assignments and exams that keep getting in the way of your designated best friend dates.

“you’re so gross,” your words clash with your actions, arching your back and further presenting him with where you need him most.

“oh, but you love it.”

and you do, you really do.

you love how aegon fills you, slow at first to “get your pretty kitty stretched”, and all at once after he’s got the first few inches in, no warning before the head of him brutishly knocks against your cervix. you love the groaning and moaning and utter bullshit that finds it’s way out of his cushioned lips, whines of so tight and praises of you take me so fucking well, baby. you love how he talks you through it, voice a gentle whisper of encouragement from the moment the took your virginity till even now, months and several more encounters later. you love that he plays you like an instrument, skillful with the move of his fingers and careful with the pressing of your buttons.

“yeah, like it from this angle, don’t you? like to take me nice and deep,” he’s spewing out behind you, fucking into you at a speed that’s got not only you whining but the van too. “what a pretty little slut i’ve made out of you.”

you hate that he’s aegon. dirty, slimy, enemy/big brother to your best friend, aegon. you hate that it would crush aemond to know this is how you’re spending your sunday, cramped in the back of his brother’s van as he defiles you from behind. you hate that you keep coming back.

“what’d you tell him this time, huh?” like he’s reading your mind, aegon questions you, words slurring together in the haze of lust, no need to name the man you both know unites you as much as he divides you. “where’ds he think you are?”

“ch-aah,” the word is lost among the slapping of skin and the cry of sheer terrified pleasure you feel as he reaches so deep you’re almost sure you feel him in your guts, arms giving out beneath you and leaving you pressed face first into the floor. “church! he, he thinks i’m in church.”

“if he’s thinking you’re on your knees,” aegon’s words fall upon deaf ears as the cord begins to tighten in your lower stomach, threatening to snap any second and leave you to fall into the pits of pleasure. “he’s not entirely wrong.”

he doesn’t need to be told when or how to touch you, he just knows, and so it’s no surprise when the rough pads of aegon’s fingers rub over your aching clit. the euphoric feeling of the tough skin dancing over your buzzing bundle of nerves and his cock, pulsating and raw, fucking into you over and over and over, molding a home for itself within your tight cunt, it’s all too much.

“c’mon, pretty girl, you can do it.” he’s so encouraging, so supportive as his free hand tangles itself in your hair, swift with the way it’s pulling you up till your back hits his chest. “give me what i want, go on. cum on my cock, pretty please baby.”

you do as he commands, mouth dropping open in a cry of ecstasy heard only by you, aegon and the walls that make up his beaten van. he’s not far behind, thrusts turning sloppy in the final moments as he fights through the squeeze of your orgasm before he’s spilling inside of you, head burrowed in the crook of your neck to stiffle the pathetic whimpers born from the feeling of stuffing you full of his cum till it’s dripping out of you and onto the floor, joining the rest of the mess.

“shh, shh, atta girl.” the press of his lips against your forehead is grounding, soothing you just as much as the stroke of his hands over your thighs as you crash back against him, energy drained and muscles aching. aegon’s no better, heart running at the speed of a stallion and skin burning hot red from the unbearable heat. “that’s it, you’re good. i’ve got you.”

as it always goes, you pull away first.

you fight back a discomforted frown as the emptiness hits you, what remains of his spend inside of you now dripping out to the surface of your slit. neither of you talk as you clean yourselves up, him tugging his clothes back on and you checking just how badly your makeup has smudged.

it's worse than any walk of shame, really, this stifling silence that fills the space between you as he sparks up the engine and begins the drive back.

“this can’t happen again.” it’s only once you’ve stepped out the door that you speak, hand resting on the handle and eyes focusing anywhere than his hands on the stearing wheel, the same hands he’d had burried between your thighs less than an hour before.

“you said that the last time.”

“i mean it!” you don’t. “this is the last time, aegon.” it’s not.

you only make it halfway up the path to the door of your house till he’s honking his horn and rolling his window down.

“i’ll see you same time next week, yeah?”

“fuck you!” and, yet, you smile.

“can’t wait, sweetheart!”

#aegon targaryen smut #aemond targaryen smut #modern aegon #modern aemond #house of the dragon smut #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen oneshot #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen fanfic

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; sovereign of darkness!dark choco cookie

requested by ; anonymous (29/03/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; dark choco cookie

outline ; “Can I request, Sovereign of Darkness! Dark Choco Cookie x reader? (Sovereign of darkness is one of dark choco's skin in ovenbreak*”

note ; the costume is exclusive to ovenbreak so i’ve tagged it as such.

warning(s) ; canon typical angst, small bits of fluff

dark choco cookie — or, at least, the empathetic part of him — was gone now and whatever remained inside of that heavy armour was something else entirely, a broken soul completely at the mercy of the strawberry jam sword’s wills and wants

he was so very tired of fighting (had been for far longer than you’d known him) and he’d thought himself a lost cause for so very long that you weren’t even truly surprised when you came home and found that… thing in his place

when you saw the face you loved, usually so soft and tired despite all he’s gone through, twisted into an expression as cold as ice and so very cruel — only the smallest glimpses of your dear fiancé in the invader that had stolen his mind and body

glimpses of love in how his arms wavered and fell back to his sides when you leapt in front of someone he was going to kill — how those cold, red eyes never changed as he ordered you to move out of his way, but still he backed off when you refused

glimpses of affection in those rare times when he’d let you cuddle up to his side, his movements stiff and his armour heavy and cold, but he still indulged you for those brief moments — how he once even wrapped his cape around your body and carried you to your bed when he thought you were asleep (just the once)

glimpses of protectiveness in how he’d shove you behind him and slaughter anyone who tried to harm you, splattering his armour and the floor underfoot with blood and viscera before he’s content enough to return that cursed sword to its hilt and keep on walking — either forcing you to follow him by wrapping a large hand around your waist and tugging you behind him, or just walking off an expecting you to follow

glimpses of gentleness in the way he would brush those cloth and metal covered fingertips across any injuries you gained under his care, carefully dressing the wound without a word before forcibly checking you over for any other wounds — so sickeningly reminiscent of how your love was with you whenever you so much as scraped the side of your hand

he wasn’t dark choco cookie anymore, you knew that all too well, but still you stayed by his side — following in that mental parasite’s footsteps and caring for him however you could whilst clinging onto those small threads of hope that one day your beloved could be saved

it a hopeless dream, but it was all you had — you’d already lost him in the real world, you couldn’t bare to lose the idea of him coming back as well

so there you stayed, with your sovereign of darkness, with only the memory of the man you loved left to keep you warm and hopeful

#sleepingdeath #angst #angst hcs #gender neutral reader #cro angst #cro x reader #dark choco cookie angst #dark choco cookie x reader #cookie run angst #cookie run x reader

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: A missed period causes Daemon to snap at you again.

Warning: 18+, Smut, sex, Reader has a personality, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, arguments and angst, flashbacks of abusive relationship, sexual abuse, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, he’s not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, some violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

"You were famous" you mumbled softly as you went through the pictures on his phone. It was Sunday and you shared your day off with him so you both were in the bed just relaxing for once, you were sprawled out on your front as you scrolled through the images on his phone from the time he used to fight professionally.

He had saved some memories from the past, moments that he still cherished. His mouth curved into a smile as you said that and he pushed himself up on his elbow to kiss your cheek, you tilted your head so his mouth trailed down over the length of your neck.

"I wasn't actually that popular, just known amongst the people who watch the sport" he mumbled so you hummed in agreement.

"Have you ever been with a woman that knew you?"

"Are you asking me if I have fucked a woman that knew who I was?"

"Yeahhhh?"

"I have..once or twice" you nodded as he said that and pecked him on the lips.

It's been two weeks since his birthday party and the opportunity that was presented to him by the chairman of UFC federation and you were trying to make him open up to you about why he didn't want to fight anymore.

"Don't you miss it?" You asked him so he chuckled,

"Fucking other women? No ..you wear me out enough darling " he said playfully and it made you smile,

"I know I do but i was referring to your fighting days. Don't you miss being in the ring?" He averted his gaze and shrugged as you questioned him,

"Noo" he mumbled before he laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay" you got on top of him but he immediately flipped you underneath him, he still had an issue with you being on top of him and you didn't really mind, you wanted to give him all the time he needed.

"Did you always aspire to be a chef?" He asked you so you nodded.

"Mostly yeah, a part of me did"

"And what about your ideal mate? I'm sure I'm not the type you must have imagined for yourself" He smirked as he questioned you.

"Not the type? You mean tall, sexy and handsome type?" You chuckled so he shook his head and kissed you, his fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear and he lowered them down.

"The fucked up and damaged type"

"You're not damaged baby..and we are all fucked up in one way or another" you mumbled softly as your fingers caressed his scalp,

"Whatever helps you sleep at night" he snickered as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, you winced a little so he looked at you,

"Something wrong?" He pulled out of you so you squeezed your eyes.

"No it's just my tummy, I should have gotten my period like ten days ago and I still don't have it" you answered calmly but you noticed the immediate change in his demeanor, he took his cock out, buttoned up his pants and got off the bed to stare at you.

You felt awkward now so you sat up and fixed your clothes as well, you knew you had said something wrong because he had that typical look of panic on his face.

"Dae?"

"How …come?..Why..why why are you missing your periods? I thought you were on pills? Are you not?" He asked hurriedly.

"I am.. of course I am..it's just.."

"Just what then? You think you're pregnant somehow even though you were popping your pills?" He raised his voice a little and your eyes teared up,

"Daemon calm down please ..I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant "

"Oh you're sure? Well if you're sure then I should just believe you right?" He snickered as he crossed his arms.

You fell silent for a moment because you didn't want to escalate this argument further, he usually calmed down after a few moments of outburst but this time he seemed particularly triggered.

"Are you fucking someone else? because this child in you can't be mine" Your mouth opened in shock at his words, you glared at him as he said that and immediately got off the bed to storm out of his room,

"Where the fuck you're going huh?" He asked you as he followed you.

"Talk to me when you are willing to listen okay?" You said to him as you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the main doorway, you heard the sound of something breaking inside as you waited for the elevator but you didn't want to go in there right now and deal with him.

You didn't want to leave him when he was obviously hurting but you had a feeling that he would say things in anger that would hurt you deeply and things he'd most definitely regret later.

On the way to your apartment you bought a pregnancy test kit, just in case, you were pretty sure you weren't pregnant but a test would remove those lingering doubts you had in your head now. You had no idea what you'd do if you were indeed pregnant, you didn't want a child at this stage in your life.

And the way Daemon had reacted you feared that he won't be there for you if you were expecting his child.

As soon as you were inside the apartment you took the test and those two minutes where you had to wait to watch the stick turn either blue or pink felt like hell. It wasn't unusual for you to have your periods late this way but you have never been this sexually active before in your life. Both of you got sexually intimate everytime he was around you.

As you watched the stick turn negative you breathed a sigh of relief, you took the test again just to be sure and it turned up negative again.

You checked your phone to see if he had called or texted but your heart sank at the nothingness. A lump formed in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears but failed miserably, he had told you that he wouldn't be the perfect guy for you and in moments like these he really wasn't but you didn't want his trauma to taint your relationship with him.

You didn't want to believe that he'd just abandon you if you were indeed pregnant. He was a good man and he wouldn't just abandon you like that. You wanted to keep your faith in him until he'd prove you otherwise..

Around ten at night he finally came to see you and as you opened the door he stared at you for a moment before he stepped inside your apartment. He had a small pharmacy bag in his hand that he passed to you,

"Take the test" he told you sternly.

"Daemon i have–" before you could even speak he had cut you off,

"Take it, please" his voice softened this time so you sighed and took the bag from him.

"Should have used the fucking condom" he mumbled under his breath and you bit on your cheek to calm down because you were starting to feel really frustrated by his behaviour.

"What if I'm pregnant? What are you gonna do?" You crossed your arms as you questioned him.

"Well first of all I'd like to know why and how? Aren't those pills hundred percent effective?" He questioned like a jerk.

"Ninety nine" you mumbled meekly

"Whatever..If you are really taking them everyday then you shouldn't be pregnant, isn't that right?" He raised his brows and you nodded before you chuckled,

"But what if I am, hypothetically What if I am pregnant and for the sake of our relationship let's just assume that I'm not a fucking whore that's whoring around and the child is yourssss ..what then?"

You raised your voice and he opened his mouth to say something but then the look on your face broke his heart. He already knew that he never deserved a woman like you in his life especially considering how awfully he treated you at times but moments like these really shook him up, he always projected his issues on you when you didn't deserve it at all. Maybe you were pregnant and if you were it wouldn't just be your fault or your responsibility to bear alone.

He was just scared after what had happened last time, he always lived in fear. Even though he was meticulous about it and always asked you if you were taking your pills, he wasn't as careful about the precautions as he had been in the past.

He walked towards you and you took a step back so he walked closer to you again and placed his arms around your body.

"If you're pregnant then the baby is mine, I know that. I'm so sorry about what I had said earlier, I regretted it as soon as it left my mouth. Can you forgive me darling please?" He asked you softly as he made you look up at him, you were still upset but you didn't want to stretch the issue knowing that he was clearly feeling triggered by a memory.

"Are you going to leave if I'm pregnant?" You asked him so he placed his forehead down on yours.

"No, never, I'm sorry my words made you feel that way. I am just not ready for a child but I'd never abandon you I promise" he assured you, he had no intentions of leaving the woman that was willing to stand by him through his bad and worse.

"I'm not either" a part of him felt relieved as you said that.

"Okay, then we will deal with it if it comes to that, for now I just want you to take the test for me ..so can you please do that?" His voice had a pleading tone to it as compared to before.

"I have already done it twice, i am not pregnant" he pulled away as you said that, saying that he was relieved would have been an understatement.

"You're not?"

"Nooo.. I don't know why my period is late but I know I'll have it sooner or later" he sighed as you said that.

Now he felt even worse about the outburst he had. He stepped away from you and leaned against the back of the couch in your living room.

"I don't deserve you darling" he looked down as he said that.

"Don't say that..Is there a reason why you freaked out other than not wanting a child?"

You asked him and he felt as if the ground has been pulled from underneath him and swallowed him whole,

"I'm pregnant" she said to him as she placed the stick down in front of him at the dinner table and it most surely was positive. He stood up immediately, his appetite was gone.

"How did it happen?" He asked her as he grabbed the stick to inspect it.

"Do I need to tell you how babies are made you jerk?" She got upset so he took a deep breath,

"Noo i…i meant we were using condoms and you're on pills so...I"

"Are you telling me that it's my fault?" She glared at him. He wasn't ready for a baby, he was just twenty four and the international fight week was just right around the corner, he had been training so hard for the tournament and he didn't want to get distracted. But as much as he didn't want it, that was his child in her womb and he wasn't the type of man to abandon someone like that.

"I'm not saying it's your fault.. I'm just confused is all ..did you see a doctor?" He asked her softly as walked closer to her and bent down to her level to talk to her, she glared at him before she slapped him hard.

"That's for questioning me" he was so used to them that he didn't even flinch and he wasn't surprised when she kissed him roughly after that, that was all she did to him, she'd hurt him and then love him, the cycle never stopped.

"We are going to be parents and I need you by my side alright?" She said to him so he nodded.

Later on he had discovered that she did it on purpose, she was poking holes in the condom and she had stopped taking her pills so he won't be able to get away from her for this tournament but he did it anyways and that's where it all went down for him. That's when his life changed forever.

..

"Daemon?" He heard your voice so he snapped out of his thoughts,

"Can you hold me?" He asked you softly so you immediately walked towards him and your arms wrapped around his neck, you knew his outburst had everything to do with none other than the thorn in his past- Samantha.

Over the course of four years of their relationship she had ruined him slowly, the biggest regret he had was that he didn't fight back until it was too late.

A part of him always wanted to hold on to her because he wanted to believe in the love he had for her, he wanted that woman back that he had fallen in love with, she was a completely different person when they had first met.

She was kind, so caring, she always looked after him so later on when she changed so drastically he often felt as if he was the one to blame for it, that he was the one to change her and that's exactly why he never stopped her from doing whatever she wanted, she made him believe that he deserved it for what he had done to her, that he was the reason she had turned into a monster.

"I don't want to punish you for her wrongdoings but I keep doing it, are you sure you don't want to get out of this mess?" He asked you so you pulled away to look at him.

"Daemon if I wanted to leave I'd have left already, if I didn't care about you then I never would have gotten myself in this relationship, I'd never ever want to hurt you but I'm only human and I'm going to make mistakes" you told him honestly and he nuzzled his face between your neck, his fingers traced circles on your waist.

"You never hurt me, I get hurt by my own fears and insecurities and then I take them out on you. I just need you to know that you're very important to me and I don't want to lose you" He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

"Let's just forget about it, okay? I'm not upset with you"

"You should be"

"But I'm not"

"That's because you're an angel, my very own Angel who is determined to stand by me no matter what" you smiled as he said that,

He was never overly sentimental but once in a while he would say a few words that left you feeling giddy and gave you all the butterflies. You caressed his scalp gently before you kissed his forehead and then his lips softly, in moments like these he could clearly see how different you were from her, how tenderly you treated him even though he gave you several reasons to get upset and hurt him.

"Is there any chance you'd want to have sex with this angel before she actually gets her period?" You bit on your lips and it made him smile, he grabbed your chin and kissed you before he picked you up, instead of taking you to your bedroom he took you to the couch instead and laid you down. You kept your eyes on him as he took his jacket off and then his shirt followed, you couldn't hide your lustful gaze as he pulled his zipper down.

He crawled on top of you and undressed you quickly as if he couldn't wait any longer.

"Do I need to worry about your health? Why aren't you getting your periods if you're not heavy with my child?"

He questioned as he pushed himself inside slowly, the way he always wanted to discuss important matters during sex intrigued you and frustrated you at the same time.

"I uhhhh god..okay…I don't know but it's nothing new, probably just hormonal" you mumbled so he nodded, a hint of smirk formed on his face at the sight of you, he thrusted in and out of you slowly until you were melting underneath him.

His breath hitched in his chest as you caressed his scars with your fingertips, the old Daemon would have swatted your hands away quickly but this new in love Daemon allowed himself to enjoy the touch, your touch always felt soothing to him and that's why he was so afraid of you at first, he didn't want to get used to this, he always feared you'd change into her as soon as he'd show you his vulnerability.

"Cigarette?" You asked him post coitus and he thought about it for a moment before he got up and picked you up to take you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the bed and stared at you briefly,

"What do you want, baby?" You asked him as you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him on the bed,

"Can you just..just lay with me?" There was a hesitation in his voice as he laid down next to you, he had no idea that you'd give him the whole world if he'd ask you so sweetly.

"I'm here" he closed his eyes as you caressed his prominent cheekbone with your fingers. After a moment of quiet you finally spoke,

"You should fight again" his eyes opened again as you said that. He had a habit of discussing important matters during sex and you had the habit of doing it post sex.

"I do fight, everyday"

"You know what I mean"

"I can't, i can't do it again, it's too late" he sighed and he was hoping you'd let it go but you were as stubborn as he was.

"It's not, it's not too late, i have seen you fight, you're different from those other guys, you train them to perfection and yet they're never able to defeat you"

He let out a deep sigh as you said that. He can't fight, just being in front of the crowd felt unimaginable to him..

"You can do anything you want dae, I believe in you"

You mumbled softly just to put the thought in his head.

You had found a video of him on YouTube a few days ago, from his last ever professional fight, it was the first match of his qualifier round for the international UFC week, he was doing good, he was easily winning but something bad had happened between the second and third set.

The fiery passionate man that had won the second round didn't return for the third, he was there in presence but his mind seemed distracted, he seemed hurt and scared and then he was beaten to pulp until he finally gave up.

Everyone in the crowd was shocked, his supporters were disappointed in him, nobody knew what went wrong, some also felt that he lost on purpose because he was paid in hefty from the opposition.

So many accusations were thrown at him but nobody knew the actual truth.

You didn't either but deep down you had a sneaking suspicion that his loss that night was because of Samantha, she was his curse and she never wanted to see him succeed, she always wanted to keep him caged and closer to her, she hated the attention he had on him and how she was slowly losing him from her tight grasp, this tournament would have changed his life in every possible way and perhaps she couldn't take it so she did something to ruin it all for him..

You didn't know the truth but you had a feeling you would find out soon.

"One Chicken Caesar Salad with croutons on top and dressing on the side, table 9" Claire put the order on the tab so you quickly prepared it and sent it out. Daemon would be there soon to pick you up, you were almost at the end of your shift. The head chef was on vacation so you were handling everything by yourself and you just wanted to go home with him. However Claire returned soon after and told you that the customer wanted to compliment the chef so you made your way outside to meet her.

As you approached the table every hair on your neck stood up, it wasn't just any random customer, it was her -Samantha.

You recognised that creepy smile she had on her face, before you could say anything you noticed her attention diverting towards the door so you turned around and it was Daemon.

For Seven years he had been running away from his past and the dreams he once treasured so deeply, he was running from that toxic woman but his past had finally caught up to him.

He stood there shellshocked as he came face to face with the woman that had destroyed everything about him that made him so uniquely him.

She broke his heart and took away his every reason to smile. She crushed his spirit and now as she found out that he was finally moving on in his life with you, she had returned to remind him why he'd never escape her.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

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@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon x reader #non canon #modern au

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Two

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Pairing(s): John x Daughter!Innocent!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Incest, naive!reader, manipulation, graphic descriptions of porn, fluff, virgin!reader, oral (female receiving), daddy kink *I guess*, praise kink, soft n fluffy, angst (?), light thigh riding, smut implied 

W/C: 5.7k+

A/N: I forgot I was supposed to be posting this story! Happy almost Thanksgiving to my American followers!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Some time ago...

Things started off innocently. Sam and Dean were at school and you were at the motel doing what you usually did- you read, and read, and read, and read until John walked through the doors. 

You were ecstatic to see him. John had been away for a few weeks too wrapped up in the case to even call home. The look of relief in your father's eyes when he saw you was like no other, he loved you more than anything in the world. 

John took you to lunch, saying it was to make up for all the time he missed with you- not bothering to pull Sam and Dean out of school like he usually did. Things seemed normal all throughout lunch, you chose of course, but things changed drastically when he asked you a certain question during the car ride home. 

"Do you know what sex is?" John asked, looking over to you as he kept a firm grip on the steering wheel. 

Your brows furrowed at the question. It sounded familiar, it really did, but you had no idea what it actually meant. 

"I don't think so," You told him calmly and he let out a low chuckle. 

Judging his reaction, it definitely seemed like something you should know about, so you began to feel a little embarrassed at your lack of knowledge. 

"You mean, your brothers never taught you what it was?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and keeping a small smile on his face. 

You shook your head and he didn't seem particularly pleased or displeased. 

"Normally, by your age, you know what it is. You're already legally an adult." John mentioned.

"So then... does Sammy know about this?" You asked, tilting your head, and wondering why your twin had never said anything about sex.

"I'm sure he does, sweetheart. Caught him with one of Dean's not-so-private skin mags," John chuckled and you scrunched your nose. 

"What's a skin mag?" You asked him and he continued to chuckle at your question. 

"It's pictures of sex. We call it porn," John answered and you frowned, still not knowing what the hell he was talking about. 

"Daddy, I don't know what that is," You reminded him and instead of the instant explanation you wanted, he looked over smiling and shaking his head. 

"God, I wish you could stay little forever," He sighed and you continued to frown, wishing that you knew why this conversation was occurring or why it was so important for you to know about. "When you and Sammy shower together, does he ever touch you?" He asked and his face shifted to concern.

"Yeah, he helps me wash my hair sometimes, but mostly he just uses all of the hot water," You huffed out, crossing your arms, and John shook his head. 

"I meant, does he put his hands on your body?" He reiterated and you shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what he was gaining with these questions. 

"Sometimes he helps me wash my back," You answered and John nodded his head. 

"Do you ever wonder why you have different body parts than him?" He asked and you slumped your face, of course, you wondered why, but you knew that it was just because you were of different sexes. 

"I guess, but Sammy says it's just because I'm a girl and he's a boy," You told him all the information you knew and he nodded his head. 

"So, you know that boys can't get pregnant right?" He asked and you nodded your head. "And you know that boys don't get periods?" He asked again. 

"Yeah, because Sam doesn't get them and neither does Dean. Only I do," You crossed your arms, thinking about how unfair it was that they didn't bleed once a month.

"Okay, well at least you know the basics," John sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips. 

"Is this the part where you tell me what and why we're talking about this? You said you didn't want to talk about when I get my periods," You turned your head to look for his reaction, and he just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

"I don't. It's just- It's just important if we're going to talk about sex," He muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't know what that is," You reiterated, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

"I, uh, I never had this conversation with your brothers. They kinda figured it out on their own," He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't holding on tightly to the steering wheel. 

It wasn't even worth responding to, so you decided to stay silent until he said something else. You could tell that he was feeling awkward, but you weren't- you were just impatiently waiting. 

John looked over and gave you a small smile to which you just raised your eyebrow, then his face straightened and he knew you were waiting for something more. 

"You know what, sweetheart? I think it just be better if I showed you."

•••

He dragged himself in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. His eyes were locked into hers as his forehead began to form sweat beads, panting like he was running a marathon. 

Their lips connected and their tongues ran against each other as he continued to move above her. When he pulled his lips back, she had her mouth parted slightly, close to tears falling out as she cried out profanities. 

But she wasn't actually upset and he wasn't actually hurting her, they were enjoying it- John made sure you knew that.

You stared at Sam's computer in awe, they were so in love with one another- so happy to be together like this. You didn't understand what was so awkward about it, you were confused as to why you had never seen anything like this before- confused as to why you had never done it. 

They both looked so pretty like this, so close together and in complete and utter bliss. She was gorgeous, her breasts were perfectly symmetrical- almost like she was handcrafted. Her lips were stained with red and her body was glistening in the bright lighting that infected the room. 

He had the perfect body too, big strong arms that held onto her like she was a breath of fresh air. His chest was chiseled flawlessly and he reminded you of John and your brothers, they were all just as handsome as he was. 

"Remember: You only do this with people you love," John reminded from behind you, watching you closely as you reluctantly peeled your eyes away. 

"I can do this with Sam?" You asked as your eyes reached his. 

John frowned at your question and you grew impatient as your excitement only grew.

"I love him. How come we don't have sex?" You questioned again and John's face fell into the palm of his hand, his fingertips rubbing harshly against his temples.

"Sweetheart, you don't do that kind of stuff with your brothers," John answered with a sigh, picking his head up to look back at your confused stare. 

"Oh, right. That's her Daddy. I almost forgot." You said and his eyes widened.

"I think you've had enough for today," John cleared his throat and his hand reached over you to stop the video playing in the background, but your hand reached his first. 

"Daddy, don't turn it off. I like it," You told him with a small smile, his wide eyes staring at you as you watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. 

John nodded his head slowly, bringing his hand back to rest at his side, and you turned your head to watch the screen again. 

You stared intently as you began to focus on all of the sex happening right in front of your eyes. She sounded so pretty every time he shoved himself fully inside of her. He was grunting and telling her how much of a slut she was and at first it confused you- it was a bad word and Dean used it negatively when he didn't like someone. So why did she seem so happy to hear the mean name? 

After watching the first few minutes, you discovered she actually liked being called slut. She kept saying yes yes yes, and it only made him go faster, which in return made her cries louder. Her begging was like music to your ears, and for a second you began to imagine yourself in her position. 

What if someone made you feel that good? What if they made you so happy that you were screaming in pleasure? 

Thinking about being her brought out a feeling that you had never felt before. First it gave you the chills and you had goosebumps prickling on your skin. Then you started to feel it in your stomach- almost like period cramps, but in a good way. 

After that, having pants on almost seemed uncomfortable, especially after feeling a new type of wetness in your panties. You watched as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, so passionate and raw, and it made you jealous. 

"Why don't you kiss me like that?" You snapped your head around to look at John. 

His face became flushed and it took a few seconds for him to respond back- which were mostly incoherent mumbles. 

"Don't you love me, Daddy?" You asked and he instantaneously jerked his arm away as you absentmindedly placed a hand on it. 

"I do love you, baby, I do. I just- they're not real. I didn't mean to- uh, they're not related." John managed to muster out, obviously flustered by your comments. 

"She kept calling him Daddy," You frowned, once again thinking about how much you wanted to be in her position. 

"I know, sweetheart. It was just the first video I clicked on. I wanted to get this over with." He sighed and it hurt your heart that he didn't want to do it with you. 

What if he didn't love you enough to do those things? What if Sam or Dean didn't love you enough? 

"Don't be sad, Y/N. It's just a video." John said, picking up on the sudden mood change, and reaching over to cup your cheek. 

Usually, it would make you feel better- it's something that he always did when you were upset- but it was different this time. 

"You don't love me enough for sex," You said, pushing his hand away and looking down. 

John had put you through all of this trouble of telling you about it- even showing it to you, and now he was going to deny the pit you felt in your stomach? 

"Y/N, you didn't even know what it was thirty minutes ago. You're not ready to have sex," John said in a quiet tone and you continued to frown.

Why was he being like this? Why would he show it to you if that's not what he wanted?

"I'm ready. I want to be like her, Daddy. The video made me feel things." You told him honestly, gaining the courage to look back up at him. 

Just as your courage regained, you could tell that his was suddenly gone. He looked as pale as a ghost as he swallowed down whatever liquid was in his throat. 

"What kinds of things, princess?" John asked nervously, almost sounding like he was guilty of something. 

His eyes were locked on yours and you couldn't help but feel like you might be able to break him. A perk of being Daddy's little girl was getting whatever you wanted. 

"I don't know how to explain it," You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to explain the way your core was aching for something. 

"It's called being horny. It's natural," He chuckled nervously, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

"Do you feel it too?" You asked, seeing the way that his pants were tightening around his lower region like a tent. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," He sighed aloud, and your eyes watched as his hand pressed against the crotch of his pants.

"I want to be like her, Daddy," You confessed as your eyes began flickering up and down between his face and his legs, not sure which was a prettier sight.

The sweat and the bulge were both good indicators that he was ready to do things that were in the video, you just knew it. With a sudden whiff of confidence, your hand reached back and landed on his thigh, rubbing circles with your fingers. 

John didn't say anything. He didn't move either. You watched closely as his pants became more restrictive and it was evident that your hand on his thigh was doing something for him. Smiling at the reaction, you looked back up to him and saw an unusual darkness in his eyes. 

It came as a surprise when his hand came to meet yours and you expected him to move it away, but instead, he trailed it higher. Your fingers traced the rough denim material until they landed in between his legs. A small groan left his lips and you grinned at the sound because of how much it resonated with the guy in the video. 

After your hand sat there for a few seconds and you admired how hard he felt underneath you, he stood up without warning. You frowned, wishing that he never moved. 

Sighing aloud, John looked down at you as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand came up to rest on your cheek as his thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip. 

You held onto his hand, relishing any touch that came to your body, and just as soon as it began, it ended. He pulled his hand back and you watched as he walked towards the opposite side of the room. 

"Come here," John commanded in a low and gruff voice, sitting on the edge of the unmade motel bed. 

You weren't sure whether to be eager or concerned as you stood up from your chair and made your way to him. His arms opened up as an invitation and you straddled his hips, lazily hanging your arms on his shoulders as you began to realize how intimately close the two of you were. 

You looked down, feeling instant relief as you pushed the weight of your core on him. It wasn't much, but even through your jeans and his, you could feel how good he felt pressed against you. His fingers came to the bottom of your chin and motioned your head up so that he could look at you. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" John asked, his eyes begging for you to say yes as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"Yes, Daddy. I love you," You confirmed, breathlessly waiting for him to do something to relieve the rapidly burning coil in your stomach. 

John's lips connected with yours as soon as he got his answer and you tried your best to copy his movements. It was effortless when your mouth began to move in sync with his. Each time his tongue reached into your mouth you felt like you knew exactly what to do. 

His lips felt like soft pillows every time they ran against yours- he was so perfect, you wanted to make him happy just like the guy was in the video. You chased his mouth as it pulled away, but didn't complain when you felt the wet kisses on your neck. 

John was sure to be careful as he took his time, giving you soft and warm kisses all along the crook of your neck, occasionally stopping to nip at your ear. 

Your fingers raked their way through John's hair and you heard him groan when you shifted your hips in an effort to get more comfortable. His fingers reached down, pulling the fabric on your torso over your head. 

You felt the goosebumps on your skin in reaction to the colder air and you traveled his gaze to your breasts. John brought his hands up, cupping through your bra and marveling at the sight in front of him. You took the initiative to reach around and unclasp your simple cloth covering, letting it slide down your arms and shoulders as your nipples hardened. 

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," John said breathlessly, his eyes completely focused on the stiff peaks in front of him. 

Your cheeks swelled with his approval and you moaned when he brought his mouth to one of your breasts, tweaking the nipple with his tongue and running small circles around its entirety. Something about the way he was sucking made your core itch for attention, so your hips pressed up as close to him as possible. 

John moaned against your breast, his lips ghosting the skin on your chest and latching around the other nipple, treating it just as well as its predecessor. 

His hands trailed down the sides of your body, reaching the middle, and undoing the button on your jeans before encouraging you to stand up. As you raised, he slowly pulled your jeans down and let his fingertips touch your skin as they moved south. 

When the denim was pooled around your ankles, you held onto his shoulder for support as you kicked them off lightly. 

"Sit back down, Y/N," John told you and you followed directions. 

Straddling his hips once again, feeling much less constricted, he gripped tightly onto your sides. He shifted you slightly so that you rested completely on his thigh, instead of in between, and began to move your body back and forth. 

Small whimpers fled your mouth as you felt the friction rubbing against your aching core, it felt so unfamiliar and foreign to your body- but it felt so good. 

"Feel good, princess?" You heard John chuckle lightly, as his hands continued to move you. 

The wetness from your panties was sure to have made its way out, but you didn't care. Being like this with him like this felt so good. 

"Daddy, I want to make you feel good too," You told him, looking back into his eyes. 

John's hand reached up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, smiling at you. 

"Let Daddy make you feel good first," He answered in return and you nodded your head. 

His lips collided with yours as his grip on your hips tightened, picking you up and laying you flat on your back. He continued to kiss you passionately as he hovered above you, his hand reaching down and dipping into your soaked panties. 

You felt him smile into the kiss as his fingers easily glided through your slick and you moaned every time they would ghost against your clit. 

"You're so wet for me, baby."

"Is that a good thing?" You asked him and he chuckled at the question. 

"A very good thing," He told you and you smiled with the praise. 

Placing a quick peck on your lips, he adjusted himself so that his knees were on the ground. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your soft cotton underwear, pulling them down, and encouraged your thighs to open more. 

John brought his calloused thumb up to work small circles on your bundle of nerves and you moaned at the feeling. Everything that he did made you feel more and more relieved, you could practically feel how much he loved you. When you situated yourself on your elbows so you could see what he was doing, he looked up at you. 

"Can Daddy taste you?" He asked, licking his lips, as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"Please," You squeaked out, feeling hot and bothered and needing as much of him as you could get. 

Watching as his head disappeared in between your legs, you bit your lip as his tongue trailed once up your slit and collected as much wetness in his mouth as possible. You could hear his groaning in approval just before he began to delve into your core again. 

Not bothering to suppress your satisfaction, you moaned as his tongue flicked itself over and over on your clit, bringing out a type of burn that you'd never felt before. 

You could feel your core heat up as he relentlessly attacked you with his tongue, alternating between circling and flicking, perfectly timing when one or the other became too much or dull. He began to suck down lightly, pulling more moans out of your throat, and you felt the uneasiness in your stomach waiting to spill itself. 

Your fingers locked themselves in his short hair, gaining a grunt from him as he began to go faster with his motions. His tongue was hammering your sensitive bud at a furious pace, leaving you a moaning mess as something suddenly snapped inside of you. 

"Daddy," You whined when he didn't stop. 

Your hips buckled and your thighs tried to shut themselves as John's hands wrapped around and held you down. He kept the pace as he helped you get through whatever it was that just happened. Once he was satisfied, he came to the surface, leaving your legs shaking. 

"What was that?" You asked him, panting as you tried to stop your legs from moving on their own. He continued to hover above you.

"That was an orgasm, sweetheart," John told you before placing a tender kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself when his tongue reached into your mouth, moaning at how satisfied and happy he seemed to be. 

•••

Things were never the same after that day. John insisted on not taking your virginity until he was sure it was going to be special. He wanted the whole candle-lit dinner and the rose petals on the bed, but mostly- he wanted it not to occur in a shitty motel. 

John wanted the whole nine yards just for you and as much as you wanted that too, you didn't really care about the fine details. You wanted him as soon as you could get him and you didn't care what the circumstances were, even if that meant losing your virginity in a crappy motel where the beds creaked.

Plans were whisked away from the two of you, a hunt would come up or Sam and Dean would stick around for too long. It almost seemed impossible to find the 'right' time. 

In between, John helped you learn different things that surrounded sex. You could only assume that those acts were just as satisfying as the real thing, but it only made you crave him more. 

You were so eager to please John and he seemed to feel the same way about you, making you feel more special than Sam or Dean ever felt. Everything just made so much sense, everything seemed so perfect. 

It was hard to contain yourself around your brothers, but John wanted to keep your relationship a secret. You didn't understand why. Why wouldn't he want to show Sam and Dean how happy he made you? Was he embarrassed? Were you not good enough to boast about?

Those questions didn't matter in the middle of the night when he would steal you away to his truck. Every bliss-filled night brought a euphoric feeling that lingered for the following days... but then he would leave. Again. 

It became a routine. Things would seem so hopeful that maybe in a few days, he would be able to steal you away for the night- make it special, but those plans seemed almost hopeless as the weeks went on. 

The hunts became more frequent, especially after Sam came home from school, and John wanted both of his boys as strong as possible- so he chose to hunt by himself most of the time. 

John also became a bit hunt-hungry, losing days of sleep and trying his best to find the monster that killed your mother. It was consuming him and John only really ever seemed to be at peace when he was with you- when you helped suck out every ounce of worry from his soul. 

But a strange guilt was burning slowly in your core. Sam was the one person you trusted in your entire life. The one person you could trust with your secrets, the one person you could trust to be on time, the one person you could trust to be there for you. 

When Sam would come home from school and tell you about his day, or come back from a small day hunt with Dean, you would have nothing to say to him. 

You weren't reading like usual, you were too busy with John or learning new things from porn. You weren't supposed to tell Sam and it ate at you every day. 

It hurt to keep something so special and important away from him. You've told him everything since the moment you could talk- the only saving grace was that he was keeping things from you too. 

First, it started off with him not telling you about sex or what it was. Then, it turned into getting girlfriends that he wouldn't tell anybody about. He was hiding things from you for the first time in your life and you didn't understand why. 

Was he upset with you? Did John say anything to him? Or was he just growing apart from you? 

Showers seemed to be less fun for the past three months. Sam barely talked to you. He barely cracked a joke, he didn't even turn the water cold on purpose to make you squeal. It was just a shower now. You got in, you washed your hair, he washed his hair, you washed your body, he washed his body, and then you both got out. 

Sam wasn't the same Sam that you knew and loved, but you tried your best not to notice.

It was another day. Another boring and quiet shower. Sam hogged all of the water while you focused on trying your best to be normal. 

To be honest, you were upset. All of these months, waiting for him to say something. You were waiting for Sam to explain why he was acting so strangely, but he didn't. 

Sam closed himself off from everybody and every shower that remained silent, other than the casual 'pass the shampoo' that seared into your heart. Maybe Sam didn't love you as much as he used to. Maybe he found someone else. 

You couldn't hold it in anymore- you couldn't live without knowing what was going on in Sam's head. 

"Are you okay?" You asked Sam quietly. He just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

Sam muttered 'I'm fine' and nodded his head, turning back to finish washing his hair. You frowned, knowing that he was probably not fine, and continued to pry. 

"Sammy, please. Just talk to me." You frowned, watching the soapy water fall down his back.

"Talk to you about what?" Sam asked in return, bitterness in his voice that shocked you to your core. 

His tone definitely showed you that he was upset about something, and it hurt to know that he was bottling it in himself. You trembled when he snapped, shivers running down your spine that brought you to cross your arms, and you watched the way he glared at you when he turned around. 

It hurt especially because it was the same glare he often gave your father. It was the same hatred in his eyes and you didn't know what you did to deserve it. 

"Y/N, I'm not angry. I promise. I'm sorry for scaring you." Sam must have picked up on your hurt as his face slumped into concern, placing his hand on your arm. 

You immediately pulled away as Sam continued to look at you sympathetically. 

"I just wished you talked to me, that's all," You replied quietly.

"Yeah, well, I wished you talked to me too," Sam muttered in a voice so close to a whisper you almost couldn't hear. You decided to look back up at him. 

"That's what I'm trying to do, Sam," You told him just as softly as before, looking into his soft eyes. 

Sam gave you a small smile out of courtesy, and you could tell it was hurting him just as much as it was hurting you. 

"I just feel like you are avoiding me. Like you don't want to tell me what's going on in your life anymore." You admitted.

"What about you?" Sam scoffed and you raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, you don't talk to me about your life. Why should I?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

"I don't go to school anymore and I barely leave the motel. There's not much to say," You sighed, frowning at how his aggressive switch was flipping on and off with each comment. 

Sam didn't get upset with you often, but most of the time he was irrational and tended to say things that he didn't mean. 

"Just- just tell me about a book you've read recently," Sam struggled to get out and you shrugged your shoulders. 

"Um, okay. I read The Little Prince recently. The guy in the story crashed in the Sahara desert and-" You were quick to explain. 

"You told me about that book months ago, Y/N," Sam cut you off with hints of a low growl. You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to reach his eyes as they ran away from yours. 

You hadn't read it in a while, but, it was the most recent book you had read- that part was true. The truth about what had been preoccupying your past few months was a secret, a secret that John didn't want anybody to know about. 

For a second, you thought about telling the truth- maybe Sam would be happy to hear about it. Happy that John loved you so much. Happy that you weren't sitting at home miserable every day. 

Ultimately, you decided that you didn't want to upset your father. What if he stopped whatever it was that was going on between the two of you? That, in addition to Sam and Dean, was the only thing that ever made you truly happy around here, and you didn't want to take it for granted. 

"I, uh, I reread it. It's a great book," You lied, this time trying to look away without being too conspicuous. 

It hurt every part of you to lie to Sam like this, especially because you were lying about one of the most important things in your life.

You never lied to Sam, ever. When he didn't say anything back, it ate you completely. The guilt you felt was pounding in the back of your throat. It only took you a few moments of silence to realize that you couldn't take it anymore.

"Sammy, I'm- I'm lying to you." You told him, feeling a rush of relief flood your body as you looked down to the ground.

"I know, Y/N," Sam told you quietly and you nodded your head, the guilt vacuuming back into your body. 

This is why you shouldn't have lied to him in the first place. He knew you so well, too well to let anything slip by. 

"Do you want to tell me the truth?" He asked softly, bringing his fingertips to your chin so that you could look back up at him. 

You nodded your head, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as he looked at you with so much care- something you missed dearly from him. 

"I- I can't." You told him, jerking your head to look anywhere but at him. 

You loved Sam more than any person in the world, but this was something that you needed to keep from him.

"Because Dad said you can't?" Sam asked you and your eyes shot up to look at him, widened at full capacity. 

He knew. That's why he was so upset. That's why he didn't talk to you, why he closed himself off from everybody. But, why? Why did he seem so upset about it? If Sam knew, why hadn't he brought it up sooner?

"It's okay, Y/N, really. It's okay, you can tell me the truth." Sam told you, pulling you close as you frowned into his chest and began to let your mind run. 

What if John found out you told him? Would he not want anything to do with you anymore? Even though the shower was still running against the both of you, the only wetness you could feel were your tears. 

"He's going to hate me, Sammy," You told him, sniffling as you pulled back to look at him. His arms were lazily hung around your torso as he stared down at you with soft eyes. 

"Y/N, did he hurt you?" Sam asked softly, gripping your waist tightly and gently forcing you to keep focused on him. 

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows as you noticed that Sam seemed to look sad. "No- no, he didn't hurt me. Why would he hurt me?" You questioned again and his grip loosened around you, looking just as confused as you did. "Are you upset?"

Sam took a few seconds to answer, head shaking a confused expression formed on his face. 

"I, uh, no- I'm not upset. I just thought-" He trailed, seeming to be at a loss for words. "I just thought he was hurting you."

"Daddy would never hurt me," You gave him a small grin, shaking your head at the silly comment. "Sammy, he's made me very happy." You purred, feeling his body tense as your fingers glided up and down his sides. 

It was a small chance that you took- if he wasn't upset... then maybe he was happy. Maybe he was just jealous this entire time.

•••

Next Part

#fanfic #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #dark!dean x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #darkfic #dubcon #smut #dark!John x Reader #dark!sam x reader #Dark!sam winchester #dark!sam winchester x reader #dark!dean winchester #Dark!Dean Winchester x Reader #Normal

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 6

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Jimin’s words stayed in your mind. You were being selfish. Your feelings aside, you knew the boys were trying their best to honour your father’s words and wishes. All the while you’ve only been protesting but now, they’ve helped you when you needed help.

“I need to return the favour, don’t I?” You sighed, asking yourself. You shook your head and turned back to your assignment in front of you. This was what you needed to focus on now.

“Hey.” Wonwoo whispered, two coffees in his hands. He placed his bag down and took the seat next to you.

“How was class? And thank you.” You received the coffee.

“Boring. How’s your essay coming along?” He asked. You shrugged, not really having paid any attention to the assignment. You knew you wouldn’t be able to do any work at home so that’s why you’re at the library.

Wonwoo decided to accompany you to study, which may be a good thing. He’ll keep you in check and ensure you get work done.

“You don’t have to stay with me. You can go home, I’m sure you have better things to do.” You said, facing the screen as you typed your essay based off your notes.

“You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Besides, whatever assignment you’re working on, I probably have to do it too. We are in the same classes.” Wonwoo stated, taking his laptop and notebook out. You hummed, nodding in agreement. To help you pick a major, you’ve been taking extra classes in various subjects.

“Are your extra classes going well?” Wonwoo asked.

“I would like to think so. I’m taking the basic classes in the choices I have narrowed down... It’s between the life sciences field and the linguistic arts realm at the moment.” You informed.

“That’s something?” Wonwoo said, trying to sound positive. You raised an eyebrow, letting out a scoff before continuing your essay.

You and Wonwoo continued to do your work with the occasional chatter until he decided to call it a day at 11pm. The study area of the library was open 24/7 so it wasn’t surprising to see students study until the sun rose.

“Do you want to get supper before heading back?” Wonwoo asked.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a little drained so I think its best I head back. We’ll go another day, I promise!” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“It’s okay. I can drop you-”

“(y/n).” You both turned to see a Bentley there. The back seat window rolled down and you saw Yoongi there. He leaned down enough for you to see him but his face was a void of emotion.

“You free?” He asked. The driver came out and opened the door for you despite not having made the decision. You chewed on your bottom lip before letting out a sigh. You gave Wonwoo a small wave before sliding into the back seat. The driver closed the door behind you.

“Are you always leaving the campus at midnight?” Yoongi asked. Half his arm is rest on the open window sill, burning cigarette between his fingers.

“Just trying to find a place with no distractions to get work done.” You shrugged. You drummed your fingers against your thighs as you waited for him to speak.

“Speak your mind. Say whatever you want.” He spoke.

“I don’t... really know what to say.” You confessed. You thought you would have time to plan what to say to them when the universe cursed you to cross paths with them again. This spontaneity was difficult for you.

“You don’t have to say anything then. We’re here.” Yoongi said. You looked up, not having realised you were home.

“It’s late but... D-Do you... want to c-come in?” You gulped as you offered. You really hoped you wouldn’t come to regret your words. Yoongi nodded and snapped his fingers. The driver opened the door for you then Yoongi. Yoongi trailed behind you, hands in his pockets as you fished your keys out and unlocked the door.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” You gestured to the small seating area. He sat down on the couch while you went to get him a glass of water. You didn’t know what other drink to offer him.

“I owe all of you an apology. I’ve been selfish and-”

“I hope you understand, I didn’t come here for you to apologise to me.” Yoongi cut you off, placing the glass on the coffee table.

“I just... want you to know I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.” You replied, sitting down opposite him. He nodded his head to let you know he at least acknowledged your words.

“Jimin’s an idiot. He speaks before he thinks.” Yoongi said.

“No... He’s right. Whatever he said that day.”

“Tch, stop being a pushover. I came here to tell you that you shouldn’t let his words affect you but I see I’m too late. Clearly.” He clicked his tongue, reaching over to drink more water. You sighed, head hanging down.

“So you’ve lived with your mother here your whole life?” Yoongi asked, changing the subject. He wasn’t good at comforting people, not that he ever cared, but it wasn’t his intention to make you feel worse either. The best thing to do is to change the subject.

“Yeah. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. Small but just right for us to be comfortable, I guess.” You shrugged, looking around.

“Must be nice to have a relationship with a parent.” Yoongi said.

If an ordinary person said the same words as him, it would usually be filled with bitterness and hold resentful connotations. But when Yoongi said that to you, there was nothing. He didn’t sound jealous, hurt, nothing.

“Would you like something to eat? For supper.” You offered. Now it was your turn to change the subject.

“I’ll order.” He took his phone out but you stopped him.

“No. You’re a guest in my house now.” You insisted. Yoongi paused but nodded, putting his phone back into his pocket. The both of you decided to get a box of rose tteokbokki and a mixed fried food platter to share. After you placed the order online, all that was left was the wait. You excused yourself to use the bathroom since you were still dressed in university clothes.

“Sorry about that.” You came back down after changing your clothes. There was no time to shower but at least you were now in some fresh smelling clothes and not the ones you were wearing the whole day.

“No worries. The food just came.” He said, taking the food out of the bags. You noticed that he had gotten more comfortable, putting his suit jacket aside.

“Here.” You went to get him a small plate.

It would usually feel weird that you’re sharing food, especially from a communal bowl, with someone you treated as a stranger. But it strangely felt okay, almost comfortable. Yoongi and you dug into the food.

“Actually, I have beers, which would go along with this. Want one?” You asked after you swallowed your food.

“That would be nice.” Yoongi said. You sotod up and went to the kitchen.

“Woah~!” You were suddenly on your tiptoes, not having noticed that Yoongi was behind you when you turned around. He caught you to prevent you from falling backwards. He let go of you, taking the beer can out of your hand with a small, grateful smile.

“Didn’t think you’d be someone to have readily available beer in your fridge.” Yoongi noted as he sat back down with you to eat. You cracked open your beer and took a sip.

“I’m still human. I also need to destress sometimes.” You looked away in embarrassment. The man just chuckled at your reaction.

“Is university tough?”

“Not... really?” You blinked, surprised by the sudden conversation.

“Come on. You can be honest. If you hate it, say you hate it.” Yoongi leaned back as he chewed on a piece of kimchi.

“Well, I’m just not sure if I am wasting my time. It’s not that I don’t like it or am necessarily struggling. I can’t even decide on a major, I don’t know what I want to do in life. If I don’t even know, why am I there?”

“You don’t HAVE to have your life planned out, you know? Just... do what you want, when you want. Let life sort itself out, some things are not within our control. Who knows, you might find something along the way.” Yoongi advised.

“Never thought about it that way...” You hummed.

“I hate to sound cliche but when doors close, more will open. You discover you hate something, you move closer to know what you want.” He said.

“What about you? You all seem to already be working, whatever you guys do or did for my father. How did you know that this was what you wanted to do?” You asked back.

“My brothers and I have been doing this for a long time. We never had proper childhoods or upbringings. Everything that we know, we taught to us by your father or learnt on our own accord, it was what we did to survive in the world. For me, school didn’t equip me with the actual knowledge I needed so I never wanted to go.” He explained.

“Are you tempted to drop out now?” Yoongi smirked.

“No... My mother sacrificed a lot for me to go to university. The least I can do is get a degree. She never pushed me to pick a specific major so that’s still up to me.” You said.

“You’re very filial.” Yoongi noted.

You hadn’t realised that you and Yoongi spoke and ate until 3am. He helped you gather the trash and you tied up the bags, momentarily excusing yourself to go bring the trash out to the curb while he wiped the table.

“Just let me do the dishes real quick.” You washed the small plates and beer glasses that you both used.

“Yoongi sshi-” You were wiping your hands as you came from the kitchen. Looking up, you saw that Yoongi had fallen asleep.

“Hmm...” Looking at the sleeping male, you were unsure of what to do. You didn’t want to wake him up even if sitting up and sleeping was gonna hurt his back in the morning. Going upstairs, you went to retrieve a blanket for him and carefully draped it over his body.

“Goodnight, Yoongi sshi.” You whispered before going upstairs.

“Finally, I can have a shower.” You sighed happily, taking a much needed shower. When you came out, you went downstairs to check on Yoongi before going back to your room.

Despite it being so late and feeling the exhaustion, you couldn’t sleep. You thought about Yoongi downstairs and what you talked about. You didn’t think that you would have an almost personal conversation with him.

But you were grateful that he didn’t mention anything regarding your father, the business, or what you planned to do next.

And for the first time in a long time, you were not alone in the house.

“Let life sort itself out.”

At about 7am, you yawned and rubbed your eyes. You had tried to do work to make yourself tired enough to sleep but it didn’t work. You put your laptop aside and went downstairs. But the couch was empty. The blanket folded neatly and placed aside.

“Yoongi sshi?” You called out. With no reply, you assumed that he left, until you saw a trail of smoke from the window by the front door.

“You’re up early.” Yoongi said as you stood behind him. He just sat on your front door step, smoking his cigarette. But when you came, he dropped it and crushed it beneath your foot.

“It would be rude of me to leave without a goodbye. After your hospitality.” Yoongi stood up, dusting his pants.

“I’m sorry, my couch probably wasn’t very comfortable to sit on.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Thank you, (y/n). I’ll see you soon.” Yoongi gave you a nod before walking away. His driver arrived, opening the door for Yoongi to enter. He rolled down the window and shot you a wave. You awkwardly waved back.

“Guess I’m not going to university today.” You yawned again before shuffling back into the house.

“Wow, Yoongi ah. You were out the whole night... Welcome home.” Jin stopped as he crossed paths with Yoongi while he was heading to the dining room, taking the time to tease the shorter male. Yoongi rolled his eyes, ignoring the eldest. He didn’t want to have breakfast, still feeling full from the supper, but he did want a coffee.

“Send it to my room. I’m going to shower.” Yoongi ordered. The butler bowed and went to the kitchen to get Yoongi’s order, assigning the maid to get Jin’s breakfast ready.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“What...?” Taehyung groaned, rolling around in his blanket. Yoongi strolled in, fresh out of the shower. He threw something at Taehyung.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hyung, you went to see (y/n)?” Now Taehyung was awake as he recognised the jacket that he had lent you a while back when he sent you back from the club. If Yoongi had it, meant that he met you.

“Hyung! Don’t ignore me~ The only way you would have this jacket is if (y/n) gave it to you.” Taehyung chased after him.

“You were with her the whole night? What did she say?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip of his iced coffee from his table. Taehyung jumped onto Yoongi’s bed, getting comfortable in the other male’s sheets.

“Get out.” Yoongi glared. Taehyung ignored him, snuggling deeper into the black satin sheets, messing everything up.

“Fine. I just went to make sure that Jimin didn’t get to her. As much as Jimin’s words were right, I know Namjoon is stressed about making things work out between her and us. And we can’t expect him to do everything while we just kick back.” Yoongi crossed his arms.

“And...?”

“And what? Of course she feels bad after what Jimin said. She’s a regular human being, she’s not us. But that doesn’t mean she’s just going to drop everything and resume the title of the head.” He said.

“I see. Jimin’s been keeping everything in for a while now, especially after boss’ death. He can’t help that it all exploded.” Taehyung shrugged.

“It’s not just him. We all didn’t mourn.”

“Hyung...”

“But sometimes, it’s not about us and what we feel.” Yoongi sighed. Taehyung didn’t reply. Instead, he got up and left Yoongi’s room to let the older take a rest. Finishing his coffee, Yoongi laid in his bed and finally went to sleep.

Jimin leaned against the wall, having overheard the conversation between Taehyung and Yoongi. When his 95′ brother came out from Yoongi’s room, he hadn’t even noticed Jimin just standing there against the wall, probably just half asleep. He let out a long sigh.

“Chim.” Namjoon called out. Jimin looked up at the leader.

“Go sleep. You haven’t slept in 3 days. We’ll talk when you wake up.” Namjoon ordered. Jimin just looked away.

“Here. Now, go.” Namjoon handed him something and patted his shoulder. The younger nodded glumly and went back to his room. He looked at the sleeping pills that were placed in his hands.

Ever since he snapped at you, he was benched from work by the others. He thought he could finally mourn, with his frustration off his chest, but that didn’t happen. He was barely even sleeping, moving around like a zombie.

“You finally caved.” Jin said as Namjoon walked into the dining room.

“He needs to sleep. Plus, what I gave him was very mild.” Namjoon replied, sitting down in his seat.

“Don’t shoulder it all on your own, Namjoon ah. Things will work out, don’t worry. We should all be focusing on our work to continue holding up the fort.” Jin said. Namjoon nodded in agreement.

“Morning. Just coffee. I’ve got to go.” Hoseok walked in, all dressed up. While waiting for the butler, he sat down with his two brothers.

“I’ve got a meeting with all our shipment partners today. My boys will be patrolling the docks and moving in the new shipments. Also, Namjoon, I’ll be doing inventory for the warehouse so tell your boys to not retrieve anything today.” Hoseok informed. Namjoon nodded his head and took his phone out to send the message to his lab team.

Their work and experiments needed a constant supply of chemicals, which were brought in and stored at some of Hoseok’s warehouses. Maybe Namjoon could give his team the day off.

“Taehyung said the governor wants to see me. So let’s keep things to a minimum for now, it’ll be annoying to have to handle any attempt at blackmail from him. I’ll let the rest know later.” Namjoon said.

“Yeah. I’ll let my boys know.” Hoseok bid the two goodbye and left.

“Well, I’m going back to work. I should be done with your files by noon.” Jin stood up and stretched his arms. He retreated out of the room.

“Good morning, Jungkookie.” Jin greeted as he passed the youngest on the way to his room. The boy yawned, giving a sleepy wave before going down to the dining room, in search of food.

“Namjoon hyung, I finished Jimin hyung’s list last night.” Jungkook said, yawning midway.

“Thanks for taking over, Kook. Take a break for the next few days. I was telling Hoseok to keep things to a minimum too. The governor wants to meet and I don’t need him having anything on us.” Namjoon informed.

“Yes, hyung. I’ll just work the shop.” Jungkook nodded. He had no issue taking over Jimin’s hit list, the extra work wasn’t that taxing on him. But now that Namjoon needed them to laylow, he could use the time to catch up on working on his cars and bikes.

When Namjoon finished his breakfast, he went up to his office. He knew that Yoongi went to see you last night and judging by how he stayed out the whole night, Namjoon guessed he was able to talk to you.

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #poly!bts #poly bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #mafia #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia bts #bts mafia #mafia!bts #ot7 #ot7!bts #ot7 bts #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader

[carlsdarling]

She-Wolf Part II

Y/N does everything - literally everything - to finally be with Carl… Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: violence, angst, gore, Yandere!Reader

In the aftermath of this event, Ron spoke to Carl when the two of them were on a tour a few days later. "Carl, I think there's something wrong with Y/N," he said worriedly as they rummaged through a grocery store.

"What do you mean?" Carl asked, uncomprehending.

Ron tapped his forehead. "I don't think she's quite normal." He told Carl about your tantrum.

"Girls," Carl dismissed it with a casual wave of his hand. "It's probably just hormones. Enid is often bitchy too. Martha's quite different," he said.

Ron remained silent. He disagreed, but he realized that he couldn't explain to Carl exactly what had scared him so much: Not the fact that you'd been yelling and throwing the Coke can at the tree, but the intense darkness in your eyes. There was something inside you, something sinister and deathly that sent a shiver down Ron's spine.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let Y/N in," Ron said thoughtfully.

Carl stared at him indignantly. "Now stop that bullshit, Ron," he scolded. "Let's go over to the department store, I want to look for a present for Martha. It's her birthday soon." Ron complied and said nothing more.

Enid also noticed some signs of concern in the time that followed, and although she was still angry with Carl for dumping her for Martha, she took him aside to talk to him. "Carl, be careful," she warned, "I don't like the way Y/N is looking at you and Martha. I think she's obsessed with you."

"Rubbish," Carl fought back. "I'm not even sure if Y/N even has a crush on me, or if Martha just imagines it," he stated. "Either way, she knows I'm in a relationship."

"Just watch out," Enid repeated. "I think you're asking for trouble. Maybe you shouldn't always kiss Martha in public." She had observed that you eyed Martha with hatred whenever you thought you were not being watched.

"You're just jealous," Carl accused her.

"I don't have to put up with that," Enid countered angrily and walked away. "Don't say later that I didn't warn you."

                                                 ***

Just one day later, you put your plan into action. You knew Martha would be on guard duty that night, and Rick and Michonne were out scavenging for medicine. So Carl would be home alone with Judith, the opportunity was favorable. You carefully chose your outfit - tight jeans and a black, cropped top. Underneath, you wore fiery red underwear, you carefully arranged your hair and spent a lot of time on your make-up. As you applied your lipstick, you smiled at yourself in the mirror. You were a hot piece of shit, irresistible, and Carl wouldn't be able to withstand you. You would seduce him and tell him that you loved him, and he would fall for you, and he wouldn't give a second thought to boring Martha. Before you left the house, you sprayed on your favorite perfume, then floated elf-like through the streets of Alexandria until you reached Carl's house. The first floor was dark, only the rooms upstairs were lit. Bravely, you rang the doorbell.

Nothing happened. You took a few steps back and looked up at the front of the house. Maybe Carl was bathing Judith. You vigorously pressed the bell button again, then you heard a window on the upper floor being pushed open. "Who's there?" Carl called out. He sounded stressed.

"It's just me, Y/N," you shouted.

"What's the matter?" asked Carl in astonishment. "I'm just putting Judith to bed."

"I was only going to talk to you," you claimed. Carl was silent for a few seconds. "Wait a minute, I'm coming downstairs," he then said tonelessly. A few minutes later, he opened the door and gazed at you, perplexed. "What's wrong?" he finally asked. He made no move to invite you in.

"Can I come in?" you asked softly. He hesitated before wordlessly stepping aside. He pointed to the door to the living room. You took a seat on the couch while Carl stood with his arms crossed and eyed you expectantly. He looked so adorable with his messy hair, rosy lips and his usual outfit of jeans, flannel and shirt. Invitingly, you moved to one side of the sofa. "Won't you sit next to me?" you tempted him and provocatively let your top slide down.

Carl turned red and his face showed a complicated sequence of different emotions. His mouth opened and closed a few times. "Umm, Y/N... I don't think this is a good idea," he mumbled, trying to bring more distance between you and him, but you stood up and approached him, playing with your hair.

"We could have fun, Carl," you purred, "I've been dying to tell you - I like you. I like you a lot." You tilted your head flirtatiously, then tried to kiss Carl, but he dodged you.

"You know I'm with Martha, Y/N," he clarified. "This ain't working."

"Oh, forget about fucking Martha," you hissed. Your face had suddenly contorted into a grimace, and Carl winced. "She's ugly, dumpy and boring. Stop letting her constrict you; she's not worth it."

"You've got that wrong," Carl replied in dismay. "I love her. I'm sorry, Y/N, but that's the way it is. I think it's better if you leave now." He pointed to the door.

"But..." you started.

"I won't tell anyone about tonight, but you're leaving now," Carl ordered.

You hadn't expected that and, full of disbelief and anger, you made your way home. When you got home, you shrieked with rage and threw the sofa cushions across the living room. That damn Martha! What did Carl see in her? Maybe she was blackmailing him with something, but you would figure it out. It was an unalterable fact that you and Carl belonged together. His rejection couldn't be meant seriously.

                                                  ***

During the next weeks, it didn't escape Martha's attention that you still adored Carl, and eventually she decided to confront you. Rick and Maggie had assigned you a job at the stables, since you - like Maggie - had grown up on a farm with horses and knew how to handle them. It was already dawn when you mucked out the last horse boxes. Your hair was in a bun, but sweaty strands kept falling into your face and you impatiently brushed them aside, all the while wondering when and how you could finally free Carl from that dreadful Martha. Little did you know that Martha would make it easy for you.

"Step aside, Starlight," you murmured and pushed against the black stallion's shoulder. The stallion sniffed suspiciously and pricked up his ears as if he had heard a noise. You listened, then you heard it too: footsteps approached the door, then a shadow appeared in the doorway. Outside, the darkness had descended. You blinked in irritation as you recognized Martha, who was slowly coming towards you. As always, she looked inconspicuous; her hair flat, no make-up, completely meaningless and without charisma. Hatred was burning inside you. She simply didn't deserve Carl!

"Hello, Y/N," Martha greeted you coldly.

"What do you want?" you snapped as you closed Starlight's box and leaned the pitchfork against the wall.

"We should talk," Martha began. "I want you to stop prowling around Carl like a bitch in heat. He doesn't want anything from you."

"He really does? Is that so?" you replied with a sneer. "You don't know a thing."

"Carl loves me," Martha said smugly. Her stupid face was adorned with a foolish smile.

"That can be changed, if it's even true," you replied venomously.

"Who do you think you are?" Martha attacked you harshly. "You can't come here and lay claim to my boyfriend! Carl has chosen me and you have to accept it!"

"Your days with Carl are over," you said tersely. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

"I really feel sorry for you, Y/N," Martha shook her head. "It must be hard for you. I'll just tell you one more time: stay away from Carl!" She turned to leave.

"Or what?"

Martha wheeled around. "Or you'll get to know me!"

"Oh, you think I'm afraid of you?" You laughed. Martha actually had no idea what you were like.

"I'll tell everyone how disturbed and pathetic you are," Martha warned, heading for the door. How could she think she could threaten you? She was nothing but a weak, dumb parasite!

You looked around frantically and your eyes fell on a small hatchet hanging on a hook on the wall. You grabbed it in a second and rushed after Martha. You caught up with her before she reached the door, but she must have heard you because she turned around. Her mouth opened in horror when she saw you, your right hand raised high with the hatchet. Martha didn't even have time to scream - the hatchet came down and split her skull almost to the root of her nose. She stared at you with an expression of incredulous astonishment as blood and brain matter streamed down her plain face, then she staggered, rolled her eyes and fell to the ground, where she gave a few last convulsions and then lay still.

Your heart raced. Hastily, you pulled the hatchet out of Martha's head; there was a sickening smacking sound and a pool of blood spread across the floor. What were you supposed to do with the body? That hadn't been the plan, even if it did solve your biggest problem – how to get rid of Martha. But if you were caught now, you would have no future with Carl anyway because you would be imprisoned or banished from Alexandria. You sighed in frustration. Your life was so complicated; it just wasn't fair.

The old well behind the stables came to mind. A deep hole in the ground, covered with rotten wooden planks. No one would look for Martha there. You grabbed her hands and dragged her with a groan out of the building, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. You'd have to clean this place soon. You broke out in a sweat, from stress and also from exertion, because Martha's body was heavy. You fought your way through the high grass, passing a rusty combine harvester, then pulled the lid of the well far enough aside so that you could maneuver the body into it. Martha slid through the hole and, satisfied, you heard her body land with a thud at the bottom. You placed the wooden planks back over the well. Then you returned to the stable, where you poured water on the floor and used the broom to clean up all the blood. You also wiped the blood off the hatchet. Why did murder have to be this filthy? It was so annoying! You had planned to watch a movie tonight, but now you could forget about it because you had to clean up this damn mess.

But Carl was finally yours. You had saved him. He just didn't know it yet.

--

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