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#time runs away from me and i keep hitting mental blocks

mylackoffaith · 5 months

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Dragon's Dreamer - Part I

Summary: Winning races is child's play compared to waking up naked, and tangled in the sheets with none other than Daemon Targaryen himself. Not only that, but you're also the daughter of Otto Hightower?

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x modern!reader word count: 3009 words

“Cunt!”

You shift your gear, and manage to slow the car a little as your opponent, Blaze moves in front of you as a means to block your path. You swerve to the right, in a way to overtake Blaze.

This race was not going your way, clearly. Actually, not just the race, but your whole day was just horrible. What with your landlord not fixing the water problem in your apartment and then to top it off, he had the audacity to increase the rent. Dick face.

You mentally curse the person whose face you first saw this morning, blaming them for the mess your day has become. Then you remember it was your black cat, Storm. Instantly, you retract all your curses because, well, Storm's your baby, and he can never bring bad luck.

Teeth gritted, hands firmly on the wheel, you refuse to let Blaze have the upper hand. Today is not the day you lose a race, especially when there's money on the line. Your engine roars as you slam the gas pedal, and send your car surging forward.

You can tell Blaze has noticed you trying to overtake him, as he tries to block you again, but you're not letting that piece of shit take your cash home. As he moves to the right, you swerve left this time, and slip past his car and zoom past the finishing mark.

You drift to a stop, a bright smile on your face as you savour the victory. Your chest is heaving, your blood is pumping, and your adrenaline is still running high. Blaze screeches to a halt behind you, his face a mix of surprise and frustration. You can hear the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd.

The cool breeze feels amazing on your hot and flushed face as you step out of your car, heart still pounding. Before you can fully get out of the car, a screech escapes you as you are lifted off the ground and spun around.

It's Emma, your best friend, grinning from ear to ear, and cheering your name. "You crazy bitch, you did it! I could kiss you right now!" they exclaim, as you wrap your arms around their neck to keep yourself from falling.

Emma sets you down, both of you laughing and catching your breath. The high from your victory is buzzing through your veins. You can feel the eyes of the crowd on you, and Blaze begrudgingly walks over, a forced smirk on his face.

"Lucky win. No need to get too cocky," Blaze mutters, trying to save face but you can see the annoyance in his eyes.

"Cut the bullshit, and face it, she smoked you fair and square. You're just a sore loser." Emma retorts, their tone sharp and unapologetic. They stand next to you, with their hand around your waist.

You can't help the smile that spreads you, and raise a brow at Blaze, "No, no. You're right, Blaze. Maybe it was a lucky win, but when I wake up tomorrow, I'd still be a winner, and you'd still be stuck to the same old loser routine. Tough break."

Blaze scowls at your words but doesn't say much, clearly irritated. Laughter erupts between you and Emma as Blaze retreats, the cool breeze carrying away the tension of the race.

Emma turns to you, placing a kiss on your cheeks. "You, my girl, deserve a few drinks. How about after you collect your prize, we hit The Hop House? First round's on me," Emma suggests, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

You grin at Emma's suggestion, feeling the thrill of the victory still coursing through your veins. "Hell yeah, when have I ever turned down free drinks?" you reply, feeling the rush of excitement and accomplishment.

The two of you head off, with Emma's arm around your shoulder, ready to drink the night away. Your pool of cash awaits, and calls your name. our pool of cash is calling your name, and you've got plans for that moolah – rent's getting paid, the fridge will finally be full, Storm will get a new toy, and that PlayStation plus subscription is getting renewed. Because let's be honest, Joel Miller and Arthur Morgan are calling your name.

Nothing can ruin your night, or the following day.

A groan escapes you, and son of a bitch does your head hurts, as you lift it from the pillow. You squint your eyes at the blinding sunlight stabbing through the curtains, regretting every decision made last night. Your head's pounding like a drummer in a metal band, and you're pretty sure a family of woodpeckers set up shop in your brain overnight.

Sitting upright, you realise that the room's a blur, and you rub your temples like that's gonna magically fix the hangover. A pathetic whine escapes you because going to work with a hangover is the last thing you want to do. Dealing with Rhys and his relentless flirting on top of this pain? No, thank you.

"Oh good, you're awake."

You flinch so hard, you might've set a record for the fastest, most ungraceful wakeup in the history of hangovers. The screech that escaped your throat is a sound you vow to never repeat. Like, ever. You whip your head around, and regret it immediately. The room spins, and you grab onto the edge of the bed for dear life.

You blink a few times, trying to focus on your surroundings. The blurred room starts to come into view, revealing a place that's definitely not your messy apartment. Because no way in hell is your room this big, nor does it look straight out of period drama.

You're stuck in some fancy-ass room with curtains that look like they belong in a royal castle. And speaking of fancy, there's a guy sitting across from you, looking like he just walked out of that show that your sister watches and sends you edits and facts about.

The guy is broad, like, shoulders-for-days kind of broad, and tall enough that you gotta tilt your head back a bit to meet his eyes. He's wearing a black coat, the ones that Lords wear in a historical drama, complete with shiny buttons and intricate embroidery

He's got long, silver hair, and violet eyes? What the fuck? You squint at him, convinced you must be seeing things. Violet eyes aren't a real thing, right? Because if they are, you need to meet God immediately and demand why you weren't given a pair.

"Easy there, little girl," he says with a smirk, cutting off your eye-colour investigation. You're still trying to process the silver hair and violet eyes when he leans back in his chair, all casual-like.

You're sitting there, staring at this dude with silver hair and violet eyes, feeling like you just stumbled into a weird dream. But, nope, this is real, and he's calling you "little girl." Rude much?

"Motherfucker, don't call me little girl. The last guy who tried that got a black eye," you retort, because, seriously, who does he think he is? You might be in an unknown place, but you're not about to let this silver-haired dude talk down to you.

"Oh, the daughter of Otto Hightower has a bit of fire in her," he chuckles, raising an eyebrow like he's enjoying this little exchange. That smirk on his face? It's practically begging for a fist.

"First of all, who the heck is Otto Hightower, and secondly, who are you?" you demand, your arms, crossed defiantly, suddenly feel a lot heavier, and when you glance down, it hits you.

You're naked. Covered only by these flimsy silk sheets, you're clutching onto them for dear life. You pull the sheets away to look down, to see that you're naked from head to toe. Your face snaps up at the man sitting in front of you, only to see his amused expression morph into a wide grin. Great, just great.

"Oh, don't worry, little Hightower, I've seen it all before," he says with a teasing glint in his violet eyes. You're not sure whether to be annoyed or embarrassed, but you quickly decide on a mix of both.

"Alright, first of all, stop with the 'little Hightower' crap. Call me by my name or don't call me at all," you declare, mustering all the confidence you can while wrapped in those flimsy sheets. He leans forward in his chair, still grinning like he finds this whole situation amusing.

"Fair enough, little Hightower," he says, emphasising the last two words just to irk you.

You shoot him a death glare, but he just laughs. "Alright, Silver Fox, let's cut the crap. Where am I, and how the heck did I end up here?" you demand, deciding to take charge of this weird conversation.

The silver fox tilts his head to the side, a confused glint in those violet eyes, while his head rests on his fist. "Did I fuck you too hard to make you lose your memory?" he smirks, clearly enjoying the banter.

You roll your eyes, unamused. "Trust me, if that were the case, I'd remember it vividly. Now, are you going to answer my question or keep making terrible innuendos?"

"Oh, good one, little Hightower. After the passionate night we spent, I reckon your father would have no choice but to wed us. Could you imagine, the pious and eldest daughter of Otto Hightower, and Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue prince?" he teases, his tone laced with amusement.

Daemon Targaryen.

You can't help but let out a chuckle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. The laughter bubbles up within you, gradually turning into a full-blown, almost maniacal eruption. It's almost too surreal, and you find it hard to believe that this isn't some elaborate prank your sister pulled.

You remember all the times you had scoffed at the complicated family tree, and the absurdity of season 8. Your sister had insisted you give it a chance, and now it seems like she's turned the tables on you, dropping you into the very world you dismissed.

The daughter of Otto Hightower. The guy that pushed his daughter into the bed of the walking dead and practically handed her a one-way ticket to the chaos express. Seriously, why couldn't you be the daughter of someone sensible, like Ned Stark? The guy was practically the gold standard of fathers in the messed-up Game of Thrones world.

House of the Dragon, you loved it because it was much better than Game of Thrones. You also loved Rhaenyra, your bisexual baby, she could do no wrong in your eyes. Aegon was relatable, what with your mommy issues, I mean sure the guy was… Well, you pause, realising you might be here a while if you list out all his issues.

Viserys, if he weren't a king, you would bash his head in. First the guy pressures his wife for an heir, then he kills her. The only good thing the man did was make Rhaenyra the heir. Then the guy is a dick to all his other children. If Viserys had no haters, you were dead.

Rhaenys, and Corlys. The DILF and MILF of the Seven Kingdoms, and possibly even Essos. Well, followed closely by Oberyn, and Ellaria. . Rhaenys, your queen, held a pedestal in your heart so high you'd gladly sacrifice yourself just for the privilege of sharing the same air. And, oh, when they say black don't crack, Corlys was living proof.

Laenor, now there's an underrated gem. Honestly, the best guy in the whole series. He accepted the Strong children as his own, raised them as his own, all while hiding who he truly was. Then there was Laena, sweet and fiercest Laena, who you'd willingly walk into fire to protect.

Helaena and Luke. Your precious little babies whom you'd preserve and hold forever if you could. They're the kind of innocence you'd fight the Mountain for. Your little dragons, the only ones who you would kill anyone for.

Jace, your sweet gentleman, the kind of guy who'd rescue kittens from trees. The type that makes you believe chivalry isn't dead. Truly, Ser Harwin's son, and you loved both the father and son, for being the way they were.

Aemond was…well, Aemond. Complicated, pitiful, and a source of both frustration and fascination. You loved Luke, but you also loved Aemond. So you were honestly conflicted when he had lost his eye but gained Vhagar.

But the Daemon gave… a whole new meaning to the term "complicated." It's like he took a crash course in creating chaos and then decided to make it his life'

"You find something amusing, little Hightower?" He's still grinning, but now it's more like he's enjoying a private joke.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head slightly. "Please, just call me by my name. I've had enough of your 'little Hightower' nonsense already. And I'm not finding anything about this situation amusing, trust me," you reply, your tone a mix of irritation and disbelief.

Daemon's grin widens, clearly revelling in your exasperation. He checks his nails, before crossing his arms casually, silver hair cascading down his shoulders. "Alright, name it is, little Hightower."

You shoot him a glare, but he pays no mind, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. "So, care to explain how I ended up here in this…room?" you ask, your sarcasm dripping like honey.

Daemon chortles, the sound echoing in the room. "Well, my little Hightower, it was quite the surprise, I must say, having the pious daughter of Otto Hightower, bursting into my room, begging me to take her maidenhood. I suppose I should commend you for your bravery. Not everyone dares to enter the lair of the dragon."

You arch an eyebrow, your irritation growing. "You do realise that storming into someone's room and begging for deflowering isn't exactly a standard move, right? I'm not some damsel in distress, and I certainly didn't come here to beg for anything."

Daemon's violet eyes gleam with amusement as he tilts his head, considering you. "Ah, a damsel with a bite. I like that. It's not every day a woman challenges me, especially in such… unconventional circumstances."

"I didn't burst into your room, and I certainly didn't beg for anything. I have no idea how I got here, and I'd appreciate it if you could provide some actual answers."

His grin fades slightly, replaced by a more contemplative expression. "Well, that's a bit disappointing. I was hoping for a more scandalous tale to spread across the Seven Kingdoms."

"Sorry to disappoint your highness, but my life isn't a series of scandalous escapades. Now, can we focus on the matter at hand?"

"Fine. Last night, upon my return from Flea Bottom, what greets me? You, sprawled in my bed, slumbering in all your naked glory, like a celestial offering. It was quite the unexpected revelation," Daemon remarks with a grin, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You glower at him, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Look, I've already told you, I have no idea how I got here. I didn't plan this little rendezvous, and I certainly didn't intend to become some sort of surprise package in your bed."

Daemon's amusement persists as he hands you his white tunic. "Oh, don't sell yourself short, my dear visitor. Not everyone gets the privilege of waking up beside Daemon Targaryen. Consider it an experience worth cherishing."

As you reluctantly take the tunic from Daemon, still wrapped in those flimsy silk sheets, you shoot him a look that could melt steel. "You know, waking up beside you is not on my list of life goals," you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

Daemon seems unfazed by your displeasure. "Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

You scoff at Daemon's casual attitude, shooting him a pointed look as you begin to struggle into his oversized tunic. It's a struggle not to trip over the lengthy fabric, but you manage to maintain at least a modicum of dignity.

The tunic hangs loosely on you, and you shuffle towards a massive mirror, still holding onto the silk sheets as if they're your last shred of dignity. The room spins a little less now, allowing you to navigate the unfamiliar terrain with some semblance of grace.

As you catch sight of your reflection, you scream. No, it's not because you suddenly transformed into a Targaryen dragon or something equally absurd. It's the realisation that your once normal, probably slightly neglected, hair is now ginger.

Ginger hair.

The ginger hair revelation hits you like a ton of bricks. You stare wide-eyed at the reflection in the mirror, desperately hoping this is just some bizarre dream. You reach up, running your fingers through the vibrant strands as if expecting them to revert to their usual colour with a simple touch.

You take a deep breath, trying to accept the bizarre turn your life has taken. As you gather your courage, the room starts to spin again, and a wave of dizziness washes over you. Before you can protest or question Daemon further, darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision.

The last thing you hear is Daemon's voice, distant and muffled, as you succumb to unconsciousness. The world blurs and fades away, leaving you in a disorienting abyss. The sensation is akin to tumbling down a rabbit hole, but there's no Wonderland waiting for you at the bottom.

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

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That's a first (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: You invite Ghost to a wedding, but end the conversation with something you shouldn't have said.

Note: Just a short drabble. I have a massive writer's block. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: afab!reader, suggestive themes.

••••••••

“A friend invited me to her wedding and it’s two weeks from now,” you began as you ran your hand down Ghost’s vest, your eyes fixed on his masked face as you talked. “I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one if we make it back in time.”

You had been flirting with each other for long months now, but Ghost only made a move at the beginning of your last mission. “I didn’t want to be compromised,” he had told you, his fingers running down your arms as he spoke. “But I really, really like you, and it would be hard to work with you if I didn’t tell you how I feel.”

The rest was history. You had spent quite a lot of time together on your days off, getting familiar with each other both emotionally and physically. This man was too good for his own good, but for some reason he didn’t seem to acknowledge that.

Ghost let out a deep, humming sound as he thought about your suggestion. It was okay, accompanying someone to a wedding was a big step, it was understandable that he wanted to think about it. But then he put his hands on your waist, pulling you a little closer. “What would I get in return?” he asked you seriously, although you could tell he had a playful smile on his lips under the mask.

“Me in a brand new set of sexy lingerie. And you could also do whatever you want to do to me in bed,” you replied suggestively, flashing a flirtatious smile at him.

“I could even tie you to the bed so I could eat you out and finger you until you’re begging me to stop and fuck you?” With a laugh you nodded. “Sounds good to me. I love to see you fall apart like that.”

You stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his mask where his lips were. “But I’ll have to keep an eye on you when we are there, because I know a single friend of mine who simply loves tall, handsome and muscular guys like you. But you’re mine, and I won’t let you get away that easily.”

“I promise I won’t leave your side during the wedding and I won’t talk to any of your friends without you,” he assured you as his gloved hand brushed your cheek.

A dreamy smile appeared on your lips as you listened to him. “You can talk to whoever you want, Simon, unless they’re females and singles,” you said with a laugh. “I love you.”

Wait, what did you just say? The thought of this slipping out of your mouth scared you, because you didn’t think you were at this point in your relationship. You could see Ghost’s eyes go wide from surprise as well. Mentally scolding yourself for your stupidity, you bit on your lower lip and waited for his response.

Instead of talking, he pulled up his mask a little and leaned down to kiss you softly. “I love you too,” he told you eventually with a smile on his lips.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #modern warfare #mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare ii

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didhewinkback · 11 months

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a something old ode to slane

---

“Ow. Ow. Owowow - H.”

“Hmm?” He asks, peeling his eyes away from the stage for a second to look at you before focusing right back to where Mitch was about to walk out, completely oblivious to how hard he was squeezing your hand, sweaty palm holding yours in a death grip, knee nervously bouncing up and down.

“Squeezing the shit out of my hand.”

“Oh.” he says, looking down at your hands, his knuckles having gone white in their tight grip, laughing sheepishly as he lets go, squeezing your knee before clasping his hands together tightly, leaning forward on his elbows. “Sorry. Nervous.”

“He’s gonna be great.”

“I know he is, I just -” he shakes his head, eyes not wavering from the stage. “Just need him to get out there already.”

“Mhm.” you say, watching the way his eyes keep darting from backstage to center stage to the crowd and back. “It’s like… you know he’s gonna smash it, and that he was absolutely born for this, but still in these few moments before he walks out your brain is running through a million and two things that can go wrong, so you just need him to hit that first note so you can take the first real breath you’ve taken in the last hour?”

He freezes a moment before he shakes his head with a laugh, grin growing on his face as he looks over at you, eyes crinkling when they lock with yours.

“Been around this block a few times before, have ya?”

“Broken quite a few hands in my day.” you say as he snorts. “Roxy still insists I permanently bruised her knuckles before that first Coachella weekend.”

“That was a good show.”

“It was. Did think I was gonna vom when you took that 45 minute run from the top of the stairs to the mic, though.”

“Think it was more like 15 seconds.”

“According to you.” you say as he huffs a laugh.

“Couldn’t have done those shows without you, you know. Any of these shows really... Like this one is gonna be mental.” he says, shaking his head in disbelief as he looks out at the crowd before turning back towards you, soft smile on his face. “No better feeling than knowing you’re out there watching me.”

“One of my favorite places to be.”

“One of?” he asks indignantly. “What are your other favorite places then?”

“Quite like being with you after a show,” you say, leaning in closer, smiling as his grin grows.

“Speaking of Coachella….”

You smirk at each other, both instantly remembering the afterparty from the second weekend, the two of you flying high on the energy and emotions of those two weeks ending with a bang (literally) with you riding him wearing nothing but his pink vest he wore on stage hours before.

“And Nashville. And Tokyo. And Berlin. And Buenos Aires -”

“Can’t wait to add Slane to the list.” he muses as he leans in closer. “Keep talking like this and you’re gonna rile me up.”

“Trying to distract you, is it working?”

“Little too well I think,” he says, eyes dropping to your mouth before looking back up at you. “Wanna distract me some more after their set?”

“Don’t you have a show to get ready for?”

“Could count as my cardio warmup.”

“Oh my god -”

“Y’know, the owners did invite me here. Bet they’d let me fuck you in the castle -”

You honk out a laugh, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him in as he nudges his nose against your cheek.

“Planning on giving me the royal treatment, are you?”

“Yeah, love.” he says, giggling against your skin. “Something like that.”

He plants a lingering kiss to your cheek, humming before he drags his lips in a line across your jaw. He pulls back to look at you, eyes grazing over your features.

“C’mon baby.” he says, nudging his nose against yours. “Give me a kiss.”

You scratch your nails against his scalp as his breath mingles with yours, tilting your head just so -

The roar of the crowd makes you both freeze in place, Mitch’s movement on stage catching the corner of your eye. Harry’s eyes dart to the stage and then back to you and then back to the stage.

“I’ll have to distract you later.”

“‘S that a promise?” he asks and you nod, kissing him quickly before pulling away as you both turn back to face the stage.

You can see the nerves settle back in him, his shoulders practically tensing up to his ears, laser focused once again as Mitch and Sarah get set up. You slide your hand onto his thigh, palm facing up.

“Squeeze away, babe.” you say, “It’ll help.”

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before holding tight, barely breathing as his eyes are locked to where Mitch stands center stage. Beside you, you can hear him take a shaky breath and you know he’s having that once in a lifetime experience of watching someone you love stand on the biggest stage they’ve ever stood on, just them and the songs they’ve written and a microphone.

And you get it.

You really do.

---

#you know what im gonna say !#i barely edited this #something old #something old blurb #harry styles fic #hbd anon !

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unique-high · 5 months

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In between the pages of you | YOONGI X BLK FEM READER

summary: Yoongi fell in love with you. A girl he had never even met before. Knew everything that you were made up of within 96 pages of a worn red journal with a nirvana sticker on front, with coffee and tea-stained pages that also smelled of lilacs and summer.

genre: fluff, angst, humor, and romance.

a/n: I made a playlist for this fic if you want to check it out :). sorry for any mistakes in the fics.

Chapter One: The Red Journal

It's only 2:15 in the morning. Yoongi sat in his usual spot in the back of the ramen shop eating his usual order of creamy pork belly shin. The crispy pork had a nice crunch, and the broth warmed his chest and stomach in the cold winter month of December.

The little ramen shop wasn't busy, just the same faces Yoongi had seen when he came here when he hit a mental creative block in his music writing. Oftentimes times Yoongi would people-watch, taking in insignificant details of the other customers he could somehow use in his music.

Like the old man with ink-stained fingers, Yoongi wonders if the old man is a kind of comic creator.

Then there was the young man slurping down his noodles as he studied for some kind of test.

Yoongi noticed a red journal sitting in the center of a table a few feet away from him. He looked around to see if the owner of it was anywhere. No one was at the serving counter or at the tea machine. The little ramen shop didn't have restrooms, so you had to use the restroom at the 7-Eleven across the street. So he thought maybe the owner could be there.

By the time Yoongi was done eating, he paid for his meal at the serving counter and bought a strawberry mochi ice cream. He walked by the table with the red Journal; he stood there for a moment staring at it. The owner never came for it.

So Yoongi took it to the serving counter.

“Someone left their journal here,” Yoongi said to the cook.

The middle-aged man looked at the journal and then at Yoongi.

“Okay?”

“Do you have a lost and found?”

“Does it look like I have one?”

“Can I leave it here in case the owner returns?”

“It'll get thrown out with the trash.”

Yoongi put the red journal in his messenger bag. He gave a tight lip smile to the cook and left.

The red Journal sat in front of him on his desk. He stared at the Nirvana sticker on the cover. He opened the journal to see if there was information so he could return it to the owner.

Yoongi reads the pretty handwriting, and the name written inside Y/N with hearts drawn around your name. There was no other information, so he flipped to the first page.

There's a faint hint of coffee that hits his nose and a coffee ring in the upper corner of the page with a movie ticket taped down from some French movie you saw back in July.

Yoongi read the first page of your journal. At first, he thought it would be crossing into someone else private life: what if there's some really deep personal shit here?

But Yoongi was a little nosey about who you, Y/n, might be.

June 1, 2023

I and my friend Namjoon ate at this Chinese restaurant above my apartment building. It's a small little one run by a husband and wife. I had sweet and sour pork with steaming white rice and Namjoon had Wonton soup. Namjoon thinks it's a little childish that I made a wish on my rice. I never told Namjoon this was something I always did with my grandma. She'll cook some rice for us on my birthdays, sprinkling a little sugar and adding some butter, before digging in we made a wish on the rice. I know it's nothing special to some people, but for me, brief memories like that with my grandma felt like hot chicken noodle soup on a bitter winter day warming your insides. So yeah, I'll continue wishing on bowls of rice, just to keep that memory of my grandma alive when she wasn't.

Yoongi's fingers trailed over each sentence until he was at the end where he saw a little chibi drawing at the bottom of the page with two people, a younger girl and an elderly woman with bowls of rice in front of them and scribbled above their heads read: Granny and Me.

His chest tightened a bit, and he batted his eyes to keep the tears away. It reminds him of him and his grandpa when Yoongi was a small boy, they would always go fishing, and Yoongi and his grandpa would wish on dragonflies so they could catch the biggest fish. They never did though and it never disappointed Yoongi when he caught something even smaller, it was the moments he spent with his grandpa that made these little memories special.

So Yoongi could understand you, wanting to keep that part of your grandma alive.

All he can do is try to imagine what your smile must have been like when a bowl of hot rice was placed in front of you, did you close your eyes? Or did you thank whatever God you believed in, if you even believed in one?

He was curious about how many wishes you made over the years, what you wished for, and did any of them ever come true?

Only from the first page of your journal Yoongi could tell you were someone with a pure heart.

Maybe you saw the world a little differently, like a child did when they first become curious about the world around them.

Maybe you were nice. Maybe you weren't nice enough. Maybe you smiled too much. Maybe you smiled too little. Maybe you cried easily when someone slightly raised their voice to you. Maybe you didn't cry at all.

A lot of maybes Yoongi thought about. Just a couple hundred words that Yoongi read he wanted to know who you were as a person. That all the maybes he had could be answered.

He flipped through the pages of your journal, just scanning over the pages. Some pages were torn out, with scraps of paper left behind from where you ripped them out.

Yoongi counted 96 pages with pieces of you scattered throughout the stained pages, folded corners, pretty handwriting, and every page smelled of lilacs.

a/n: the idea for this was random because I wanted to buy a journal and I'm like, what if there was a story about a journal and two people? I asked my friend who it should be about. It was either between Namjoon and Yoongi. And Yoongi made it. I may or may not do a Namjoon version. 😭

For a good portion of the story, we only will see Y/n through her journal and how Yoongi may see her.

Taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @illnevertrustmyselfagain @lachibolalasstuff @tarahardcore @itsshaydeekaydee @iluvkyo

If you would like to be added to the taglist for future chapters, let me know :)

#kpop x black reader #fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop x ambw #kpop x reader #min yoongi x woc #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi scenarios #bts x reader #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi x blk fem reader #Spotify

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thebiggerbear · 1 month

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i need your hand but i don't want to burn it part 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: Not going to lie, this past month has been a tough one for me. I recently lost someone and it just sucked all of the energy out of me for writing or anything else. I started this back on Feb 16th, within hours of receiving the news, because I was trying to process it as well as my feelings on it all. Beau was in my mind from the very beginning because like I mentioned before, I literally had the thought "Man, I could go for a Beau hug right about now." So this took form and even though I was blocked on everything else, this became a sort of tool of processing for me. I was going to keep this just for myself because I found it to be deeply personal, but then I thought, well, what if someone out there is also currently grieving someone they lost and a little Beau comfort might make them feel better, too? Even in this scenario? So that's why I'm sharing it.

While it is personal what I go into, I changed up things to keep it fictional and sort of tell a story. So the characters and dynamics are fictional, just not the feelings of the reader and the emotional journey/grieving process she goes through if that makes sense.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I attempted the graphics.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Song that randomly came out of nowhere and strangely worked was "broken" by Jonah Kagen. The lyrics just really hit home for me.

Warnings: mention of death; death notification

Word Count: 8587

Beau taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

It was a bright, sunny day when you got the news. The sky was this unimaginable shade of blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was a comfortable one. You were on the job and the slight breeze ruffled through your hair when you saw that your aunt was calling you. A knot immediately formed in your stomach; if she was calling you, that couldn’t be good. And sure enough, it wasn’t.

“She’s gone,” she informed you matter-of-factly.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up to what she was telling you. “What?”

“She’s gone, Y/N. Happened this morning.” Again, her tone was bland, as if she was simply telling you a package had been delivered to your home.

“How?” Your mind felt as if it was running in circles but also slowing down at the same time.

Poppernak’s head snapped in your direction but you immediately walked away from the scene. You didn’t notice the deputy watch after you and then head in Hoyt’s direction.

“Stroke.” Your aunt was only willing to give you one word but that one word changed your entire world. It altered the landscape of your universe in a big way.

You nodded, forgetting that the woman couldn’t see you, and you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You forced your gaze onto some trees ahead and mentally told yourself that you would not cry. “Oh,” you choked out. So much for not allowing any emotion to bleed through.

“Yep.”

Once again, very bland, almost dry. You weren’t surprised, though. It had always been like this between you. “Um…did they say when the services will—”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet but the information will be on the obituary online. It’ll probably tell people who can’t make it where to send flowers.” And just like that, the digs began.

You ignored her attitude and quietly cleared your throat. “Okay,” you attempted to smooth over. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Ida. If there’s anything you need, please call m—”

“Oh, I’ll call you, don’t you worry. But right now, as it stands, we’re good. I have to get going. I still have to get to the funeral home and make all the arrangements. I’ll be talking to you soon.” Before you could say goodbye, she hung up.

You let out a heavy sigh before lowering your phone from your ear. You focused on the trees once more, pushing any thoughts away and stuffing your emotions back down. When you felt confident enough that you wouldn’t break, you turned to find Hoyt and Poppernak watching you worriedly from near the crime scene tape. You sighed once more and then began your walk over to answer the burning questions they appeared to have.

You were driving back home on autopilot, lost in a sea of memories that forced a single tear out onto your cheek every now and then, prompting you to wipe each one away quickly. Your phone began to ring and as you expected, Beau’s name popped up. Well, that had to be some kind of record for Hoyt. Though, you supposed in these circumstances, you couldn’t blame her and you could appreciate her difficult position. She was only supposed to call Beau if there was an emergency but if she didn’t let him know that she sent you home for the rest of the day after receiving the news of a loved one’s passing, then she’d most likely be in hot water. In trouble with you or in trouble with Beau? It wasn’t hard to see why she made the choice she did.

Beau was on vacation and you hated for that to be interrupted, especially due to this. He worked his ass off every single day and he deserved this time. He had offered to take Cassie and Kai fishing and camping, after the date passed that the two were supposed to have gone with her dad who had been killed. Kai was excited and Cassie was grateful when Beau made the offer. You and Hoyt were happy for them. Beau had even tried to entice Emily to fly up for a visit and go with them, but Carla put a quick stop to that with the mention of school and it being Emily’s senior year. To say Beau had been disappointed was a massive understatement.

And now, he was most likely spending his time worrying about you alongside teaching Kai how to catch trout and attempting to keep Cassie laughing and her spirits high. You almost didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to be one more thing he had to worry about and also because you didn’t feel like talking, but in the end you did. To reassure him if for nothing else.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, sounding worried just like you had predicted. “You okay?”

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance at Hoyt. Despite your initial understanding, this really wasn’t something she needed to call him about. Someone else, yes, but for you, no. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him. “Hoyt just thought it best that I take the rest of the day, clear my head, and come back fresh tomorrow. That’s all.”

A moment of quiet passed between you as he likely mulled over your answer. Accepting it, he then offered, “Do you need anything?”

You cleared your throat to keep the lump at bay. “Nope. Thanks, though.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who passed?”

You pressed your lips together, not really wanting to answer, but he’d find out eventually. “My grandmother.”

Sure enough, his tone softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He knew how deeply this one would cut.

You swallowed past the lump again and forced out quietly, “Thanks, but it’s fine. It was expected at some point, you know?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” Beau lost his parents back when you had worked together in Houston. His dad had passed unexpectedly due to a heart attack. Everyone had been shocked, of course, but it hit Beau’s mom the hardest. It wasn’t too long after that when she started developing her own health issues and began declining. Beau’s father had only been gone for a year and a half when he lost his mom as well. You and your unit were there for him, giving him your unending support, and half of the department had showed up to the funeral, just as they had the senior Mr. Arlen’s. Not only was Beau well liked and respected but his family were no strangers to law enforcement; his dad had served on the force for decades before he finally retired.

What you were feeling now in no way rivaled the loss he had endured back then. He not only had lost a parent, but he lost both in a short time frame. You couldn’t imagine how you would be feeling had that been you. You doubted you would be able to stand up much less continue to function day to day like he had. You wished you could borrow some of his strength, something you could use right about now.

“True.”

Another moment of quiet filled the car tainted by uncertainty and an almost alien awkwardness. That wasn’t the norm for the two of you but this situation also wasn’t the norm. Being your best friend and having known you for a long time, Beau knew some of your history but not all of it. What little you had told him had been enough for him to know this wasn’t a topic you liked to revisit and he needed to leave well enough alone. So he’d happily compensate and regale you with funny stories of the hijinks he and his brother used to get up to when they were younger instead. He didn’t push for more than you were willing to give and that was something you deeply appreciated about him.

And right now, you appreciated him even more for not pressing you for details or trying to make small talk around the huge elephant that was currently sitting on top of you. An elephant in the form of your grandmother, an elderly woman who helped raise you who you had a…complicated relationship with to say the least. You tried to think back to one of the last times you had seen her but you really couldn’t remember. The memory was there somewhere, on the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Instead, a memory resurfaced of a younger you holding onto her hand as you crossed a busy crosswalk in the city, wearing one of your best dresses with tights, shoes, a very proper coat with gold buttons done up, and a ribbon in your long hair. You had been on your way to see a play that she managed to get tickets for and you remembered that moment of her immediately shielding you as a car nearly hit you both, ignoring the traffic light as well as all of the pedestrians crossing. You couldn’t remember the heated exchange between her and the driver of the yellow cab, but you did remember her hurrying you to safety and then kneeling down to check that you were okay. You could see the determination in her light eyes shadowed by a layer of fear as she did up the top two buttons of your fancy coat and smoothed a hand down your hair. She had protected you and basically saved your life. The memory shocked you with its reappearance; you hadn’t thought about that one in a long time. You had to have been around six years old when that happened.

Beau cleared his throat quietly. “Listen, I’m on my way back.”

That jerked you out of your reverie. “What? No, Beau, don’t. I’m fine. You’re on vacation and so is Cassie. Kai was excited to go on this trip, don’t cut it short. I appreciate it but I’d rather your plans didn’t get interrupted.”

“I already talked to Cassie and she’s in agreement. We’re heading back. She talked to Kai and he understands. We’re going to try this again next month.”

The guilt was thick inside your chest. He had been trying for a while now to get Cassie to agree to a fishing trip with him, and he’d only just convinced her. “Beau…”

“Already done,” he assured you. “We’re packing up now actually. Besides, you’re going to need some time and Hoyt’s going to need backup.”

“I told you, I’m fine and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. You don’t have to—”

“You’re going to need the time for the services. Any idea on when they might be yet?”

You pressed your lips together and glanced in your rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

He heard what you weren’t saying. “Well, it just happened. Give ‘em some time and they’ll sort it out,” he offered gently.

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“You set up a flight yet?”

You shook your head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“I should be back later tonight. I’ll come over and help you sort all of that out.”

It hit you in that moment that Beau was going to be seeing you in a few hours’ time. A part of you was relieved but another part of you wasn’t ready to let him in just yet. Not that you didn’t trust him (he was the person you trusted most actually) and not that he didn’t know how to be there for you, but something was stopping you from letting him.

“You’re going to be back late. How about you just stop by in the morning on your way to the office?”

You didn’t need to see Beau to know he was taken aback at your suggestion. “It’s not going to be that late,” he tried again. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could just stay at your place for the night. It’d be a shorter drive for me to the station tomorrow.”

You knew it would be and you knew he was just looking out for you, being there for you should you need him, but weirdly, that was the last thing you wanted right now. “I appreciate it, but it’s going to be a long drive and you still need to drop Cassie off. I’ll look up flights when I get home. You just focus on driving and let me know when you made it back okay.”

“Y/N—”

“Someone is calling me from a New York number. It could be important. I have to go. Drive safe, alright?”

“Darlin’, just—”

“Thank you for calling, Beau. It means a lot.” You meant that last part, you really did. You quickly disconnected the call before he could speak again. There was no call from New York, of course, and you know he knew that, but you just needed a second to think. You put your phone on silent and continued the drive to the small house you had put a down payment on when Beau had convinced you to move here to join him about a year or so before.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, feeling majorly conflicted. You wanted nothing more than one of Beau’s comforting hugs but at the same time, you didn’t want to be touched or comforted. You didn’t want anyone’s awkward condolences like Hoyt had offered you earlier after Poppernak told her you might have received some kind of bad news. You didn’t want to talk or cry or try to distract yourself from reality in any way, shape, or form. You wanted to just be.

And considering where you would be flying to in the next twenty four hours, you needed as much time to process and compartmentalize as you could get.

There was no processing or compartmentalizing happening. Your brain was a chaotic mess at best. Your thoughts were all over the place, same with your emotions, and yet somehow you still felt numb and in shock.

Not only did memories play on a loop inside your head but you could not form one single coherent thought. You had walked past your full sink of dishes at least four times before you remembered you were going to stack them in the dishwasher. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, preferring your usual coffee, and you had to eat something now that it was late afternoon so you could satiate the loudly rumbling hungry beast known as your stomach. You barely tasted the food or the beer you chose to wash it down with.

At some point, you had pulled out a shoebox you kept carefully hidden away in a closet and began to go through old photos you kept stashed alongside a few Christmas and birthday cards over the years. You studied your grandmother in each photo and whether it was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure which yet, you could hear her voice and even her laughter in your mind. You could hear her yelling, too, but your brain pushed those memories away, knowing you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet.

You came across one picture of the two of you. You were in high school and had just received an award. You two were standing outside of the school and neither of you were embracing or smiling too widely. One of your aunts had asked you both to take the picture, to mark the special occasion, but the truth was, you two had been arguing most of the day, practically up until the ceremony. Just one of the many arguments you both had over the years where you didn’t see eye to eye.

You dug deeper into the box until you pulled out a special group of photos in an envelope. You took a sip of beer, a deep breath, and then opened it. These were pictures of your parents, gone in a freak accident when you were barely kindergarten age. You smiled down at the photos of the two of them with a baby version of you. No matter where you were or who took the picture, all of you appeared to be happy. Sadly, you didn’t remember those times too much, the memories too hazy and existing on that fine line between reality and fantasy. You only remembered the sorrow, the pain, and the devastation their sudden absence left.

You came across a photo of you and your mother, but this time, your grandmother was also included. You must have been two years old and you were grinning widely from your mother’s lap at the older woman who smiled brightly back at you. You had even reached out your hands to her, almost as if you had been asking her to pick you up. You stared hard at the picture, almost as if trying to remember that exact moment in time so you could then remember the feeling.

Your phone ringing loudly made you jump and jerked you out of your concentration. You placed the photo down and sighed. You had put your phone back on when you arrived home a few hours ago and though he hadn’t called, Beau had sent you a few texts. It was more of him offering to come over, to be there for you, and to help with anything you needed. You had immediately swiped the notifications off of your screen; you couldn’t deal with that or anything else right now. You appreciated it but you just needed some time…some space actually. Just until you could get your head on straight.

You picked your phone up and glanced at the screen, surprised to see your cousin’s name flashing back at you.

Your brows furrowed and you immediately picked up the call. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” she greeted you though her usual cheery voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. While you didn’t keep in touch with most of your family, Lucy had been the exception. You weren’t close by any means but her texts and calls didn’t always go ignored. “Aunt Ida said she called you today to tell you about Gran. How are you holding up?”

You shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. How are you doing?” Lucy had been just as close with the grandmother you shared while growing up but she had also stayed within the family unit while you bolted. She and her husband, John, even purchased a home two blocks away from where your grandmother lived.

“Um, I’m okay,” she sighed into the phone. “It’s sad and not the way we expected but we all kind of knew it was coming.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking another sip of beer.

“I know it might sound horrible to say but it’s kind of a relief. For Gran, I mean. She’s no longer suffering. You know, after the past couple of years…”

You felt a familiar surge of guilt start up in your chest again, and a burning feeling began in the corners of your eyes. “Yeah,” you repeated. You both stayed quiet for a moment, each thinking back to Gran’s initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s more than five years ago and how it had quickly progressed, especially during the pandemic years.

Lucy finally broke the silence. “So, um, I was just wondering if you were going to be flying in tomorrow.”

Your brows mashed together again. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For the visitation the next day.”

Your head began to whirl. Perhaps it was the beer and you had misheard her. Though, you had only had two, maybe in conjunction with what you were feeling, you weren’t thinking straight. “Wait, wait. The visitation is the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Luy sounded unsure why you were asking. “And the funeral will be the next morning. That’s why I was thinking you would probably be flying in tomorrow.”

“Aunt Ida told me that she had no idea when the services would be yet but she would let me know.”

“Oh.”

You could practically hear her nerves through the phone. “Lucy,” you warned. “When were the plans finalized?”

“Um…”

“Lucy.”

“Yesterday?” She nearly squeaked out.

That hit you like a gut punch. “Yesterday? I thought Gran just died this morning!”

Now you could really hear the nervousness in Lucy’s voice. “She, um, she passed on Monday morning.”

The fury working its way through your veins felt like molten fire. “Today is Wednesday!”

Lucy knew better than to answer that. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought Aunt Ida explained when she said she spoke to you this morning. She was dealing with a lot and—”

“--couldn’t be bothered to tell me, I get it. But why didn’t you call me?” The tears building were practically burning your pupils. Your grandmother had passed away two days ago and no one could be bothered to tell you.

“I-I wanted to, Y/N. I really did but, Aunt Ida said—”

Your jaw tensed and you nearly slammed your bottle down on the floor next to you as you got to your feet, all too certain what Aunt Ida had said. While Lucy was a kinder soul than most in your biological family, she also lacked a backbone when it came to your older female relatives.

“Forget it,” you hissed, roughly wiping away tears that had escaped down your cheeks. “I’ll be arriving tomorrow. Is the obituary up or was she bullshitting me on that one, too?”

“N-No, they just posted it today. It’s actually quite nice. I think you’ll—”

“Send me the link,” you ordered before you hung up and quickly began scanning available flights as you hurried into your bedroom to begin packing.

It was late when you landed, your flight having been slightly delayed. Not that it mattered to you; if you could have delayed the flight altogether, you would have. But that wasn’t possible and neither was you staying in Helena. As angry as you were, you refused to let it keep you from doing the right thing. Plus, when you called the station earlier to tell Hoyt you wouldn’t be back until Monday, she had insisted you take the bereavement time available to you (more like ordered you) and see to your family, wishing you well. Normally, you would have put your foot down and flat out refused, content to hole up in a corner of the office and burrow yourself into work, but you knew she was right. You had to attend the services; you owed Gran that much at least.

You nodded a thanks to the cheery but tired flight attendant as she thanked you for flying with their airlines, and ambled down the bridge towards the airport. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there weren’t many people milling about and you were unencumbered from making your way down the escalator towards Baggage Claim.

While waiting for the carousel to start up, your phone started vibrating. You glanced at the screen, sighing when you saw the name pop up that had been popping up on and off all day.

You immediately rejected the call and slipped your phone back into silent mode. But before you could hit the button, a text snuck its way through to display on your screen.

You felt bad reading the message previews and you certainly weren’t trying to ignore your best friend but you just needed some time to process all of this on your own. You had sent him one quick text earlier telling him not to come by since you wouldn’t be home. You also told him you would call him as soon as you were able. Apparently, he was ignoring that last text going by his several attempts to make contact. You weren’t trying to stonewall him, you really weren’t, but you had to go into this with a clear head. Or as clear a head as you could have in these circumstances. Wasn’t that something he always said before you two went into anything dangerous on the job?

Speaking of the job, it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen your fair share of death, mostly in ghoulish evil ways that people had come up with in order to hurt each other, and it’s not that your grandmother’s passing wasn’t expected to happen at some point like Lucy had said. But you hadn’t been prepared for how you would feel when it did and you certainly hadn’t been prepared for it to happen now.

Conflicting emotions roiled in your head and churned in your stomach. Your empty stomach from that all-too familiar discomfort you’d gotten frequently during your career. The lunch you’d eaten earlier had made a reappearance after Lucy’s phone call. You would have to get some food and soon, but where you would get that at this late hour except a greasy diner, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that it mattered, either. The very thought of food made an altogether different unpleasant sensation roll in your stomach. Emptiness versus nausea…fun.

Eventually, your other suitcase made its way to you and you quickly scooped it up. You ordered a Lyft, scoffing when you noticed the wait time was a half hour, possibly more, for a pickup. How was that even possible? This was an airport! At this rate, you’d be better off taking a cab but that was bound to be pricier than the Lyft. You heaved a great sigh and plopped down on your larger suitcase, resting your chin in your hand as you waited. Eventually, you whipped out your phone and decided to mindlessly scroll through your Instagram. You weren’t a fan of the app or any social media really but Em had made an account for you one day when you had unwisely left your phone sitting on one of Beau’s deck chairs while helping him pack Pedro for a camping trip he was taking her on. You quickly got bored of any new content on your feed, since there weren't any updates from anyone you actually cared about, and swiped over to your profile.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on your face when you saw the picture Em had taken of herself and her dad, posting it for you after she saw your Houston photo and labeled it a semi-pathetic attempt at a first post. Your eyes scanned through your meager posting and the picture of Poppernak that you had taken one day near the end of your shift reminded you why you wouldn’t be working with your beloved partner the next few days. Your smile immediately disappeared and you clicked out of the app, powered down the screen, and slipped the phone into your jacket pocket.

Luckily, only a little while later, your Lyft finally arrived. After loading your suitcases into the back with the driver’s help, you were on your way to the only hotel in town. You stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Your driver, Antonio, had tried to make small talk but thankfully begged off when he noticed you weren’t too talkative, most likely chalking it up to the late flight and you being tired. Familiar landmarks came into view as he turned onto another street and memories started to flood your mind. You shut your eyes, as if to keep them out, and it miraculously held them at bay a little longer. You then settled your gaze on the back of the driver seat, refusing to look out the windows until you arrived at your destination.

You’d have time enough to wallow in memories and regret the next few days. No reason to rush it.

As soon as you checked into your hotel room, you immediately jumped in the shower. It always made you feel better after traveling and the flight had felt excruciatingly long this go around. That could have had something to do with you coming from Montana, though. The few flights you’d taken from Texas back in the day had definitely been shorter.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, your damp hair spilling down your back, and started going through one of your suitcases to find body lotion. Once you found the bottle, before you could begin lathering it up in your hands, your phone vibrated on your night stand.

You heaved a sigh and glanced over, seeing you had another missed call from Beau, and yet another text.

You nearly rolled your eyes, knowing he would make good on this threat if you didn’t check in with him at least once before you went to sleep. And that was the last thing you needed right now.

You slipped in your earbuds, hit his name, then the phone icon, and switched it over to bluetooth as you began to moisturize your skin. He answered it in two rings.

“Hey,” he gruffed out before clearing his throat. “About time you called me back.”

You ignored how hearing his voice immediately made your chest feel that little bit lighter and your shoulders release some of the tension you’d been carrying around the past day. “Yeah, well, when someone threatened to put a BOLO on my ass, I responded real quick. That’s all I need, this town’s cops pounding on my door, in addition to everything else.” You had meant it to come out teasingly but your voice had betrayed your aggravation. You regretted it the moment the words were out of your mouth. You knew Beau was just worried about you, that he cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. In all fairness, you could have at least sent him a text to let him know you landed but you were tired and didn’t feel like talking. He would have understood. He wasn’t the asshole in this scenario; you were.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered gently and you could hear the genuine remorse in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time but damn, Y/N, not one single text to let me know you’re still alive?”

You flinched at the last word and started applying the lotion more aggressively. You were eager to be done with this call, with everything, so you could crash and finally get some much needed shut-eye. You hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours, probably stress from the job (it happened sometimes), and you were feeling it.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.” More remorse.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, popping the cap on the bottle closed and placing it on the nightstand. “Well, now that you know that I’m fine, no BOLO’s are necessary.”

“Y/N, I didn’t—”

You knew you didn’t really have a right to be angry with him but you also didn’t have the bandwidth for dealing with anyone or anything right now. You appreciated his concern and him checking on you, but all you wanted to do was hit the sack and evade consciousness for a few hours. “Listen, it’s super late, I just got in because it was a late flight and delayed at that. I’m exhausted. So if we could…” You left it open-ended, hoping he’d just take the hint and say goodnight.

You heard some rustling on the other end and you realized he must have been in bed already when you called. You quickly glanced at the alarm clock and thought over the time difference. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet back in Helena and Beau was already going to sleep for the night? That was odd. Then again, he was now a deputy sheriff down and Hoyt would need the backup in case something came up. Plus, you knew he had cut his vacation short to rush back to Helena. He was probably just as exhausted as you were, possibly more so. “Y/N… You’re not shutting down on me, are you?”

You practically did a double take at the question. “What? No! I’m not. What, I’m tired and want to go to sleep after the long day I’ve had and that’s suddenly me shutting down on you? Seriously? All because I didn’t answer a few texts or pick up one of your many phone calls?” You had no idea why but that question majorly pissed you off. The logical part of you knew you were overreacting to a genuinely concerned question from your best friend but your temper seemed to be off to the races; you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I get that you’re a grade A worry-er and everything but I’m not some goddamn child you need to check up on every ten minutes for Christ’s sake!” In your rush of anger, you hadn’t even realized just how much your voice had raised. Not until there was a deafening silence in the room and on the other end once you finished your little tirade.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you were, darlin’,” he spoke calmly.

“Don’t you darlin’ me. Don’t you dare patronize me with that shit, Arlen. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” Your chest felt immediately tight again and tension filled your body once more. You huffed out an angry breath and decided the best thing for you to do in this situation was to end the call as soon as possible. “Look, you wanted to know I’m still alive, now you know. I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me and texting me all the time while I’m here and threatening me when you don’t hear back from me right away. That’s the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else,” you snapped.

Beau remained quiet but you could still hear his breathing on the other end so you knew he was listening to your ranting.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I appreciate the check in but it’s unnecessary. When the services are over and I’m going to head back, I’ll let you know.”

Still nothing.

“Good night, Beau.” You hung up and angrily tossed your phone onto the bed with your earbuds before heading back to the bathroom so you could blow dry your hair.

You thought over the entire conversation. You felt slightly bad that you had lost your temper with him when he was just making sure you were okay but God, you didn’t need that right now. What you needed was to get through the next few days so you could return to your life, your normal routine, as fast as possible. The best way you could do that was to keep going, not allowing yourself time to think, and get this done.

A twinge of guilt surged in your chest when you had that thought. You hadn’t meant anything disrespectful towards your grandmother or to insinuate that you didn’t care that she had died when you were thinking that. It was just…things were already going to be difficult, if your Aunt Ida’s attitude on the phone had been any indication as well as her behavior so far. If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s call earlier and the obituary link she texted you, you wouldn’t have even known when the services were going to be so you could grab the first flight out. Yes, things were bound to be difficult and tense until this was over.

You unplugged your hair dryer in a huff and finished getting ready to go to sleep. Beau just needed to give you space. Your life in Montana had nothing to do with anyone or anything here and you were determined to keep it that way. Texas never did despite your few trips back over the years; Big Sky Country wasn’t going to either.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at the text message notification on your screen when you lit up your phone.

You felt that twinge of guilt again but this time in your heart. Beau hadn’t deserved what you had unleashed on him before. He was a good man and he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself as you hurriedly dressed for bed and snuggled under the sheets. You stared at your screen, your thumb hovering over his name, the desire strong within you to call him and apologize. You yearned to hear his voice one more time, even if it was just him talking and you listening, him giving you hell for the things you had said in anger earlier. Hell, you almost wished he was here with you so you could fold yourself into his arms and burrow into his chest, letting his Texan drawl wash over your ear as he assured you everything would be alright. And you could stay there as long as you wanted, safe and comforted, not having to face the world or how it had changed so drastically for you with one phone call.

After a minute of indecision, you decided to let things be, get some rest, and then call him tomorrow to apologize when you were a little more clear-headed. And God, you hoped you would be more clear-headed. You powered down your screen and turned the light off, getting into a more comfortable position. You closed your eyes and tried to let the silence settle over you to start lulling you into sleep.

A few minutes passed by of you unsuccessfully getting your mind to stop racing, constantly replaying your phone call with Beau, the phone call from your aunt, what Lucy’s call revealed (though you shouldn’t have been surprised), what you would be facing come tomorrow, and everything that entailed. Almost as if it was a track on repeat. Finally, you let out a loud huff and reached for the TV remote, turning the television on. You channel surfed until you landed on a rerun of The Golden Girls. You tried to get into the episode; the series was an old favorite that you loved. But when you saw Sophia talking to her granddaughter, you winced and decided that the show wasn’t for you right now. You continued to click through channels until you found an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. The minute Marie walked through the youngest Barone’s household, giving her daughter-in-law a glare, you let out another wince. You finally settled on The Weather Channel and stared at the screen while the woman talked about the highs and lows expected for the next week in the area. You noticed that rain showers were being forecast for the day of the burial. How apt. And just like that, you knew your brain wasn't going to let you get any rest.

You sighed and tossed the remote away from you and rubbed your hands down your tired face. So much for sleeping.

The next day, you arrived at a familiar red-colored house with white trim, stepping up onto the old wooden porch. You could already hear a low buzz coming from inside as voices batted back and forth in conversation mixed with the sounds of young children running around and playing. One voice stuck out to you from all the rest and it made you tense up. A part of you wanted to turn around and retreat back to your hotel room.

You briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. You were not going to avoid this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You could do this. You would do this. You were an adult now, you had your own life, and you were a deputy sheriff for Christ’s sake. You dealt with dead bodies, assaults, and much scarier criminals every single day. You refused to turn around and leave with your head hanging down.

As if to ensure you wouldn’t be able to leave, without your permission, your hand lifted and gave two confident raps on the front door. You could hear the chatter pause long enough that you knew they had heard the sounds. You straightened up and squared your shoulders, making sure you were holding your head high just like you did during work hours. It was a silly fleeting thought but you almost wished you were wearing your badge on your belt, having it near as some layer of invisible protection.

Before you could scoff internally at yourself, the door yanked open and there stood the older woman you hadn’t wanted to deal with. You hadn’t seen her in years and while her sandy hair was mixed with more gray and her face sported a few more lines resulting in an even harsher scowl than you remembered, the dark eyes full of contempt whenever they focused on you remained the same.

You didn’t smile, tear up, or surge forward for a hug, and neither did she. “Aunt Ida,” you greeted.

“Y/N,” she replied icily. “So you decided to show up for the services after all?”

You could feel your teeth set on edge but you schooled your features. You weren’t going to let her little digs get at you and you would be damned to let her see it if they somehow did. You weren’t fourteen anymore. “I did. Mind if I come in?”

Her beady eyes gave you a once over and she practically sneered before stepping back and opening the door a little wider. Not exactly a warm invitation but an invitation nonetheless. You gave her a nod and took it, ignoring the tiny snort of derision she let out as you did.

You sat uncomfortably on the old couch that you had hated as a kid. Aunt Ida had insisted this couch was for entertaining, not for young children to watch television on or jump on or do anything on really. The seat was practically as rigid as your aunt.

You silently wondered what Beau was up to now as a temporary means of mentally escaping this situation. You had tried to call him before you came over here but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt and a little let down that you hadn’t been able to speak with him. He had told you to call him anytime, that he was there for you despite the harsh words you had launched at him the previous night, but the one time you actually tried to reach out, he hadn’t been available. You hadn’t been prepared for the beep of the voicemail, signaling you to talk, and you ended up leaving him the most awkward message you had ever left someone. “Hey. It’s me. …I’m sorry. Call me back when you get this, okay? Or if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll understand, but…it would be really nice to hear your voice. Well…you know what I mean. Anyway, just call me back…if you want.” That had been four hours ago. And granted, he was three hours behind you now, but you knew he would already be up, getting ready for the day. So why was his phone off?

You had chastised yourself out loud after hanging up the phone, telling yourself that he was probably in the middle of something for a case that he got called in on overnight and couldn’t be disturbed. How many times did you have to do the same? You had scowled at yourself in the bathroom mirror while putting the finishing touches on your foundation. “What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? You need to get a fucking grip.” In perhaps an immature move that you were glad no one else was around to witness, you stuck your tongue out at yourself and shook your head, muttering “Stop being such an asshole already”, and walked out the door.

And now you were here, in the house you didn’t really want to be in, surrounded by people that you didn’t really want to be around. Well, perhaps that last thought was harsh. There was really only one person you didn’t really want to see and she had been the one to let you in the door.

You quickly glanced around the room you were in, noting not much had changed since you had been here last, when you had left this town in your rearview mirror and didn’t look back. Even the scent you hated as a child was still the same: a mix of old lady perfume and stale cookies. You could feel nausea starting up in your stomach but thankfully you hadn’t eaten anything before you came here.

Your Uncle Mason, who sat on your right, gave you a tight smile when he noticed you surveying the room.

“Still looks the same, huh?” He offered.

“Exactly the same,” you agreed without looking at him.

Your cousin, Lucy, sat in the stiff armchair on your left and looked around as well, smiling. “I like that it hasn’t changed since we were kids. A lot of good memories happened here.”

Your gaze dropped to the oak coffee table that still had the scratch in it from when you were a child and didn’t know any better. That was one of your countless infractions your aunt had held against you. “Yeah, good memories,” you muttered. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mason tense a little and Lucy fidgeting nervously.

You all heard Aunt Ida finish up her conversation and hang up the old handset before she made her way into the room. “That was the funeral home. There was an issue with the plot next to Dad but it’s been resolved.”

“What kind of issue?” Uncle Mason asked.

“Payment,” Aunt Ida spat out as she sat down before turning a fresh glare on you. “I hope you’re not here thinking there’s any money waiting for you and that’s why you decided to show up.”

You nearly ground your teeth together but forced yourself to remain calm. “Of course not. I’m here for Gran.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Only took her dying, right?”

Lucy struggled to her feet, her round belly acting as an obstacle, but she managed. “You know, I don’t hear the kids anymore. I’m going to go check on them and be right back.” She then hurried out of the room; if she could have run, you bet she would be sprinting towards the backyard her kids had been urged out into when you had arrived. You couldn’t blame her. You would be, too.

“Ida,” Mason attempted to admonish his sister. “Now is not the time.”

“Then when is it?” She snapped, making Mason shrink back, before she turned her scowl back onto you. “Why else would you show up? It’s not like you came when she needed help, when we all needed help with her. You didn’t visit her once while she was in the nursing home. Not once when she was in the hospital.”

Your jaw tensed and you felt the familiar twinge of guilt deep within. “You told me not to come, Aunt Ida,” you reminded her.

She barked out a laugh. “Is that how you heard it?”

“That’s how I heard it because that’s exactly how you said it.” You didn’t look away when she was slightly taken aback by your reply. You refused to back down from this one. You reminded yourself that you were no longer a child; you were a grown woman who didn’t have to take her shit anymore. You were no longer dependent on her or anyone else in this family for anything though when you were, she had only been too happy to make you feel like crap for it every single day of your existence.

The woman shook her head, laughing at you. “Right. You’re some big shot cop now, right? Too good for us lowly citizens.” She smirked over at Mason in collusion, though her brother was shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. That angered her further and the glare she settled on you was worse than before. “It’s obvious why you’re really here. Like I said, there’s no money for you. Anything she had left went to the payments for the nursing home and her funeral. And what she had left was pretty much nothing. So if you came here expecting a payout from her will, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

You lifted your chin slightly higher in defiance of her accusations. “And like I said, Aunt Ida, I didn’t come here for anything other than to pay my respects to Gran, and to help where I can.” Your voice softened a little at the thought of your grandmother. “She would have wanted that.”

The other woman scoffed once more but didn’t say more due to the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” Mason hurried to offer and then nearly rushed from the room, leaving you and Ida in one hell of a glaring contest.

“I’m only trying to do right by Gran,” you assured her.

“Too little, too late,” she hissed.

You unclenched your jaw and took a quiet breath. “Yeah,” you reluctantly agreed. “Suppose you’re right.” Right then and there you decided that once you were back in Montana, you would sever all ties, this time permanently. You owed nothing to this woman or to any of them, regardless of any blood you shared. The one person you might have owed something to once upon a time was no longer alive. If anything, you were being quickly reminded why you had left this house all those years ago and hadn’t come back.

Ida harrumphed and continued to shake her head.

You were about to stand and leave, having had more than enough in this one little exchange with your aunt, and tell her to call you if she or anyone needed anything before the wake, when Mason returned and a familiar figure filled the entryway to the room. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

There stood the very man you had been trying to get a hold of earlier, giving you one of his warm smiles. You could see slight rings of shadow underneath his eyes that were similar to yours that you had been sporting this morning before using concealer. Exhaustion lined his face but so did relief. His green eyes that were centered on you softened slightly and in that moment, you knew everything that had happened the night before had been forgiven. He was here, for you.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move when you hurried over to him, Mason barely able to get out of your way before you launched yourself at Beau who immediately wrapped his arms around you, practically picking you up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep any tears from coming out and burrowed into his neck, happy to breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. No one said anything and for that you were grateful. You didn’t want anything to shatter the one good moment you’d had in the past two days.

Eventually, when you felt like you wouldn’t break down in tears and you had yourself under pretty good control, you choked out in a whisper, “You’re here.”

“Damn right I am, darlin’,” he confirmed into your ear, making you smile as you heard that Texan drawl you loved so much. The tension in his body relaxed though his hold on you did not. You felt him press a kiss to your hair before hugging you even tighter. “I’m here.”

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen fanfiction

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j0kers-light · 5 months

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Hiyaa,

Could you write a little something in which the joker thinks he has lost his light? She's not actually dead but maybe kidnapped during a robbery or something. He thinks he saw her dying but idk how he finds out she is still alive. He goes after her and retrieves her. Of course she is both mentally and physically scarred but with time she ends up healing those scars.

I know it's not very detailed, I'm sorry🥺

His Lighthouse: Just One Check (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Just One Check- Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

@darthjokerisyourfather hey hi love! Thank you so much for lighting the spark that cured my writer's block! This is just what I needed to get back to writing although I couldn't find a cool title for this one. Might change that later lol.

I hope I did this one justice, if not message me and I can try again! 😭

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! 🖤✨

There was no telling what could happen at a bank in Gotham City. The average citizen risked the chance of being involved in a robbery or the greatest displeasure of being stuck in line for hours only for the teller to run out of cash halfway through. Both were a drag.

Today happened to be the former.

"It's just one check Joker. I'll be back before you now I'm gone." You already had your shoes on and were shrugging on a jacket when Joker intercepted you in the foyer.

He wanted you to stay with him today, not going out doing errands that could wait until whenever.

Joker watched your every move as you continued to get ready to leave him. Nothing he said persuaded you to stay so he resorted to straight up whining.

"Why can't ya wait til tomorrow? Come back and lay with meeeee..." His handsome pout was adorable and convincing... but it wouldn't work on you today.

"It can't wait. The banks will be closed tomorrow. National holiday, remember? Don't worry, I'll be back in an hour." You bounced back over to kiss Joker but he swatted you away, only to grab your face and smother you with kisses. Always loving you on his terms or not at all.

He hummed and tried to wrap his arm around your waist but you were hip to his schemes. You dodged his affections and made your way to the door. "Don't give me that look. I'll be back!"

"Yeah, yeah. One hour, Bunny. Your time starts errrrr now." He grumbled as you blew him a kiss and walked out the door.

He was serious about timing you but he added a few extra minutes for traffic. With that squared away, he returned to the couch to wait for your return.

It was just a check for a few hundred bucks, but you wanted to deposit it before it expired and/or you forgot about it.

You couldn't remember the last time you physically went to a bank. Normally Cindy's office handled your funds since you hated going in person. Perhaps your aversion generated from Joker confirming that criminals loved to rob banks based on certain statistics such as the bank's popularity and daily usage.

J went out his way to not hit the institutions you banked with so you could feel at ease whenever you did visit. He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

Thankfully, your personal bank wasn't well known and was just a quick fifteen minute train ride away. You arrived and walked into Darth HL. Bank, already sighing at the long line for assistance. You just wanted to deposit your check and leave but this might take a while.

You stood behind an elderly man and pulled out your phone to scroll through social media while you waited. The line hardly budged but patience was a virtue.

You were waiting for almost forty five minutes when four men burst through the front door and started yelling at everyone. You crouched down behind a decorative planter. A shame you had experience with armed robberies. It was simple Blüdaven instincts to duck and avoid being seen. You eyed the distance it would take you to run to the door and decided to stay put for now. It was too risky.

"EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW! CELLS! PAGERS! ANYTHING THAT CALLS OUT, WE WANT EM! STAY QUIET AND WE'LL ALL LEAVE HAPPY!"

One of them passed around a box where they demanded people to drop their cellular devices into. They were organized and efficient. It was clear they weren't amateurs. They worked around the room in a fraction of a minute and secured it as their own.

No one had spotted your hiding spot near the financial advisor's desks and you wanted to keep it that way. The first time visiting a bank in months and it just so happens to be robbed. What were the odds? Joker was gonna be pissed. You froze.

You promised him that you'd be back in an hour!

"ARE YOU DEAF OLD MAN? PHONE NOW!" One of the robbers walked up to the same old guy you were originally standing behind and shoved him with the end of a semi- automatic.

You weren't the only one who was concerned that they would start using unnecessary force. Case in point, the old man was not backing down.

He stood straighter and stared the robber right in the eye. "We won't be intimidated by you... thugs." He croaked out.

You hit your head softly against the planter box. Now was not the time for heroics old man..

"Oh yeah? Well guess what old timer? You should be. We didn't come here to play games." The robber raised his gun to shoot but someone in the crowd, another wannabe hero, stole their attention.

"Have you no respect for your elders!?" They cried out.

The entire room went silent after that. The robber eyed the new guy up and down through his ski mask.

"You wanna get popped too? Be my guest." He pulled the trigger and you and the crowd gasped in horror as the poor guy was gunned down along with the old man.

There was no hesitation; it happened so fast. It wasn't about the money. These men were bloodthirsty and obviously deranged.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" The leader shouted. Two men disappeared into the back while the other two patrolled the crowd and forced them to keep quiet.

All in all, only five minutes had passed since they entered the bank. It was the longest five minutes of your entire life.

Another guy in the crowd took a gamble and sent a text from their phone. His thumb hit the send button right as he heard footsteps stop behind him.

"I thought we said no phones. What's so important that you risked your life for?" He yanked the phone away and read the text.

Then a staring contest began. "Which one is she?" The masked criminal asked.

You strained to hear the reply from across the room but it sounded like, "I ain't telling you s__t!"

From your hiding spot you watched the remaining two thieves emerge from the back with large duffel bags leaking with banknotes. They gathered around their leader who was still arguing with the civilian caught having a phone.

"What's with him?" A thug asked.

"I recognized him from my old gang. Caught him sending out a text requesting backup with the code word Nightfall. Spread out and find her. This.. 'bank robbery' just got interesting."

Nightfall. You swallowed and tried not to draw any attention to your position. You knew what that meant.

Should your life ever be in danger, Joker created Nightfall and Daybreak procedures to protect his Light. Only insiders within his gang should have the knowledge to know what it entailed and who it protected.

You could handle a typical robbery– stay down and be quiet until the authorities showed up (what was taking the cops so long anyways?) but it wasn't safe here with your codename compromised. You had to leavenow.

They were beating up Joker's goon to try and extract more intel from him. You hated to use his suffering to your gain but while they were distracted, you pulled out your own cell to call Joker.

You prayed that he would answer since he rarely did. You sighed in relief when he picked up the phone on the second ring.

And for once he cut right to the chase. "What's going on?"

"They're robbing the bank. I need–" Anything else you were fixing to say was cut short when someone took your phone. Joker called out your name in panic.

Joker saw the distress message your security detail sent to the group chat and he was already throwing on his purple coat to rush to your location. He was taking the stairs down to your lobby but he froze when he heard a gunshot and you scream in pain.

All the air left his lungs hearing absolute silence before the call was disconnected.

Joker had to sit down for a second to process what he heard. His mind went over every possible scenario. He knew the odds but deep down he prayed to every higher power that you were still alive. You had to be or he would go even more insane.

By the time Joker and men arrived at Darth HL. Bank it was swarmed with GCPD pigs and other emergency personnel. They all whispered the same verdict. A robbery gone horribly wrong.

No survivors and almost two million dollars was missing.

Coroners were still wheeling out body bags and Joker's life screeched to a halt watching each one being loaded into white vans. None would leave the premises until he was triple sure none of them held your body.

"Check. Every. Last. One." He ordered.

Frost wanted to rest his hand on Joker's shoulder but thought against it. J was slowly losing his grip on reality and his body tremors became more pronounced as more bodies were wheeled out the bank.

Thirty two bags in total. Thirty two times his heart would race until grief slowly kicked in.

It couldn't be true. He refused to believe his Light was gone. You kissed him goodbye over an hour ago. You promised you'd be back! Joker refused to imagine a life without you in it, so he simply chose not to. Deny. Deny. Deny. Deny until he knew for sure.

This did not happen at a tiny bank with only two locations in the entire city. You assumed smaller banks were protected from robberies and you weren't wrong. Larger corporations like The Bank of Gotham or Gotham Merchant's Bank were the usual targets amongst thieves. Bigger banks meant more money.

Joker had never heard of Darth or whatever HL. stood for until today, although his mind visualized the bank's logo that he saw on a letter one or twice. Some kind of bird carrying a tree branch in its beak.

It was a useless detail in the clog of his dark depressing thoughts. He couldn't think straight.

Why did you leave when he practically begged you to stay? So what if the banks were closed tomorrow? If you needed the money, Joker had plenty of it! It didn't make sense why you insisted on doing such a mundane task when cuddling with Joker was a far better alternative. Now his Light was gone and the world seemed so dark without you in it. Joker honestly felt like throwing up.

Over the throng of investigators roaming about and the sound of cameras snapping evidence, Joker heard an officer talking to the Commissioner.

"Sir, we might have a hostage situation here. We went over the security tapes and the suspects were seen carrying a young female along with the money out the back."

"Was she?..." Commissioner Gordon trickled off. The officer assumed he was asking about her status and weighed in.

"Alive, but it appears she's injured. I'm sorry, the footage is really outdated to be sure. This bank doesn't have modern security measures. Heck, their panic button isn't up to code. Could've saved their lives and alerted us sooner if it were. We won't know any more information until we get Analysis to clean up the footage back at HQ."

"Alright, good work Rodriguez. Let's work with what we got to create a description for the missing persons."

Their conversation was the spark that gave Joker hope. A possible female hostage. It would explain why he couldn't come to terms with you being gone. He felt it in his bones that you were still alive. He was a fool to not trust his gut.

Frost and the others regrouped after a while and gave Joker even more hope. "She's not in any of the bags. We.. we can't find her Boss." Mac sighed.

"That's because she's alive." Joker said.

The trio glanced at each other with mixed emotions. Denial was the first stage of grief and it was hitting Joker hard. Frost was the closest to J personally so he decided to be the bearer of bad news to his old friend.

"J, I know you... cared for B deeply.. but she's gone."

If looks could kill, Frost would be dead ten times over.

Joker's eyes were frozen pine staring at his right hand man. "My Light is not dead. One female hostage. I want her found." He growled.

There was no point in trying to convince Joker. Until he had tangible proof that proved otherwise, he would staunchly believe that you're alive. They all nodded and spread out to get leads yet there was still uncertainty in the air.

What if this was all for naught and if so? Who would remove the wool from Joker's eyes so he could see the truth?

It took Joker and his men two days to find out who was responsible for taking you and another day just to track them down. You were alive after all. Getting you back however proved to be quite the challenge.

Gotham City was a huge landmass consisting of three connecting islands but Joker would leave no stone unturned in his search to find you. If he had to personally search every alleyway, then so be it.

He would not stop until his Light was safe in his arms, right where you belonged.

Deep in Chinatown and ironically not too far from where you and Joker first met, you were lying on an old, dirty mattress. You had a nasty cough and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a minute due to fatigue.

The four men that kidnapped you were standing around arguing amongst themselves and paid you little mind.

"This has gone on long enough! He's looking for her like a bloodhound. It's not a matter of if, but when he tracks her down, we're dead meat! We should cut our losses while we're still alive."

"I agree with Scotty. We should split the money and dip. We can't be on the run forever. He's got too much rep and power to try and escape as a group." The first two thugs nodded their heads right as another tossed in his two cents.

"Woah woah, wait a min. We can't just bail." He gestured to you lying on the floor. "She's seen all of our faces! That b__ch will rat us out! We should off her now."

Scotty took offense to that and bared his teeth. "You think she's in any position to snitch?"

You coughed again and they all glanced at you before returning to their meeting. It was going on day three and they were running out of safehouses to take refuge in. Right when they would settle in, Joker and his men would find the hideout, forcing them back on the run. This was the tenth move so far and each one put a strain on your already deteriorating health.

"Yall a bunch of pussies! Go ahead and run but the money stays with me. I'm the only one that deserves it!" Their leader said.

His comment quickly received backlash amongst the other three.

"Are you smokin dick? What's a dead man gonna do with all that money? He's gonna find her, kill you, and then us for helping your stupid a**. D__n it! I knew I should've said no when you hit me up. It's never a simple job with you!"

You felt like your chest was on fire and you jackknifed into a semi sitting position to cough. The sudden movement pulled at your wound. You were pretty sure it was infected and your fever was a result of the lack of medical attention administered to it. Between your blood loss and dehydration, they were unknowingly killing you.

"Can I please have some water?" You asked anyone in general. You tried opening your eyes but the light in the room was enough to have you cringing away like a newborn.

One of the guys was soft on you and bent down to help you drink from a plastic bottle. It was obvious that you needed help.

He guided the bottle to your lips. "Don't drink it too fast, there ya go. How's your head?"

Your voice cracked, "Still h-hurts." Scotty helped you lay back on the mattress before checking on your wound.

Upon first sight, it was still reddish brown from both dried and fresh blood. He peeled back the crudely made bandage– tossing out a half-hearted apology when you groaned, only to grimace at the infected entry wound.

"Judging by your ugly mug it ain't looking too good." Another guy bent down to take a look but Scotty batted their hand away. He didn't want anyone else touching you.

"She has a fever..." Scotty said. His leader scoffed and stood up, "Listen man! She needs medical attention!" He begged. Was he the only one around here with a heart?

"F__k that, we need a plan. The Joker is closing in on us and if I go down..." Their so-called leader laughed sharply to himself. "Y'all are going down with me."

Tires screeched outside and the remaining two thugs rushed over to the window to check it out.

They watched as some average, low level looking guys stepped out and walked into the apartment building across the street. For now, the coast was still clear.

"I've had it man! It's like I'm paranoid or something. Every little thing is making me jump and it's all because you," He pointed at Rico, "Got too greedy! You three can stick around and spend the money, whatever; I'm out." He grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair and left.

The remaining thugs stared at each other in silence. If Joey walked out on a job then it was serious.

"Look, Rico. I respect you man but Scotty got a point. This job has gone on long enough. Look at her. She's sick because you shot her like some deranged idiot and now you dug a hole you can't get out of. I'm not going down for your mistakes! Whatever you need the money for, is it really worth your life? We're talking about The Joker here. You gotta be ten toes down confident there's a way out before you get us all killed."

It was quiet for a moment until Joey burst through the door in a panic. He locked it back shut and started to frantically load his gun.

"Woah, what's got you all spooked?" Mike asked with a laugh.

"The clown. He's here! I told you he'd find her! Ohhhhh man, we're so f__ked!"

Everyone talked at once trying to make sure Joey wasn't pulling their leg.

"Whaddya mean 'the clown is here?" Mike asked outright. Then Scotty chimed in, "Did you see him for yourself?"

Joey shut them all up with a wave of his arms. "No! No! But I saw his trio! They were coming up the stairs when I spotted them! There was no other way out so I came back!" He turned to look Rico in the eye. "What do we do?"

"It was just those three?"

Joey nodded, "Yeah." He frowned when Rico laughed before responding. Their leader just brushed off his concern like it was nothing.

"No need to get bent outta shape, their lightweights! Especially the blond. He's just a frat boy playing henchmen, trust me." They all shared a laugh but Joey didn't join in.

He saw the look on their faces. Joker's men meant business.

There was nothing to laugh at in his opinion and he spoke up again to try and talk some sense into everyone else. "W-What about the other two? I heard the rumors. Frost is supposedly ex-military and the other guy is like some mercenary for hire."

You snorted in the background, "I'd start praying if I were you. Like it'll do you any good."

Your taunts triggered another coughing fit right as Rico heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He spun around to snap at Scotty. "Shut her up!" He hissed.

"I'm sorry." Scotty said to you before he covered your mouth and pinned your hands down.

It was a temporary fix to silence you as the roar of footsteps went past the apartment door. Everyone held their breath as they passed over and kept going. Rico watched them through the peephole with his hand hovering over his gun.

They all breathed a sigh of relief until Scotty yelped when you bit his palm.

You couldn't breathe. You sucked in some air so you could cough, much louder this time, and that ended with a concerning wheeze. The walls of the rundown apartment they held you in were paper thin and not the best for hiding. You easily gave away their position.

Rico turned to order Scotty to move you into the only bedroom right as the front door was kicked in.

Joey was the first to go. His body dropped dead and the other three scrambled for cover right as a shootout began. Only six shots rang out before Joker's voice silenced all motion.

"Mac! If you accidentally shoot my Light I'll rip your f__king head off!"

Joker sounded frayed and pissed. This wouldn't end well.

Mike and Rico dragged Joey's dead body out of the way before they took cover behind the couch that separated the small living room from the kitchen. Then they listened to their unexpected guests arguing.

"What do you suggest we do then, J?!" Mac yelled back. Joker scratched his head with the barrel of his gun. "Uh. Knock before you enter?"

"Unbelievable." Mac whispered to himself.

A gloved hand emerged from the hallway to playfully rasp against the door. "Knock knock, uhh anyone home?"

You cried out when Scotty tried picking you up. Joker heard you and poked his head in to locate you. "Bunny?!"

Frost dragged J back into the hallway right as a shot missed his head. They both looked at the bullet hole in the wall with intrigue. These common thugs were packing some heat.

"Uh thanks for the save." J said. Frost just shook his head.

He gestured for Mac to do this thing. The former frat boy grinned and raised his voice to carry into the apartment.

"Well that was a little too close to comfort! Let's negotiate boys before the landlord starts charging damaging fees! Hand over the girl nice and easy and we'll leave the way we came. No fuss, no muss."

"Yeah right. As if you'll let us live! WE AIN'T STUPID!" Rico yelled right back. He stole a glance at you being corralled into the bedroom. You were sweating bullets and you looked absolutely miserable.

He still had the upper hand here. If he was gonna die here, he might as well get his revenge before heading out.

Rico yelled at his former boss across the way.

"Does she mean the world to you, Joker?" It was a rhetorical question yet he paused for dramatic effect, before answering it himself.

"Of course she does. You wasted thousands of dollars on her security. We risked our lives for some b___h we never met!"

"And? Your point?" Joker dragged out. Was this guy's problem? Risking your life was a part of the job description.

Mac and Neo both shared a 'is this guy for real?' look.

"That nasty cough you heard? That's nothing compared to the gunshot wound to her stomach. My gift to you for all the s__t you put me through!." Rico yelled.

The bedroom door slammed shut with you inside and that was Mike and Rico's cue to start fighting back.

It was two against four but the odds were in their favor with the apartment layout. They could pick off Joker and his goons the second they walked through the door. Revenge was within his grasp.

Too bad Rico didn't take into account Joker's desperation to get you back. J had only a brief glimpse of the room when he poked his head in earlier but he got a vague layout of the place in that timeframe.

With you tucked away in the bedroom, all Joker had to do was aim at the old leather couch the two thugs were hiding behind.

Joker nodded at Neo who was scoping the angles with his gun. The mercenary gave the thumbs up. He had a clear shot. J knew Neo would take it with no hesitation.

Mac saw the confirmation and sighed dramatically. As a farce, he tried to make one final deal.

"You sure you don't wanna settle? One million each, with immunity, we won't hunt you down blah blah jazz? We just want the girl back. There's no need for bloodshed."

"F__k you and—"

Neo didn't let them finish their sentence. It only took four rounds to pick off his targets.

It ricocheted off the ceiling light and the walls before sinking into the target. Frost and Joker rushed in and found the door to the bedroom before their bodies had time to hit the floor. Joker could hear the final thug inside freaking out along with you trying to calm him down, in between gasps of air.

"Scotty l-listen to me.. I can protect you. You've been so kind to me.. You have to... drop your weapon though. Please. Stand behind me. Let me s-save you."

"You can't help me! He's gonna kill me! I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry."

Frost glared at J when they both heard you start to panic. Joker didn't care about the outcome; he just kicked the door in, saw Scotty holding a gun to your head and reacted.

"S-Stay back! I'll.. I'll do it!"

Joker threw a knife and it sunk into your captor's neck, killing him instantly. You fell with Scotty's dead weight and groaned when you landed on your wound.

Hands quickly pulled you away and you briefly noticed Mac, Frost, and Neo securing the room before your focus landed on Joker.

His eyes were frantically scanning you all over and they widened when he saw your infected gunshot wound. These idiots shot you in the stomach and failed to give you medical aid. Joker's worries shot to the roof seeing the wound oozing blood and pus.

You were burning up and losing unconsciousness.

"Bunny? Bunny, look at me?! No no noooo, stay with me, Y/n. C'mon doll." He cupped your cheek and gently patted it to keep you alert. He hated seeing your eyes struggling to stay open.

The adrenaline rush of Joker coming to save you had up and left. The only thing that remained was a splitting headache and a numb feeling that was spreading all over.

It had been three days since you kissed Joker goodbye and at times, you thought you'd never see him again. Now he was here, holding you close, pleading for you to keep your eyes open— but you were so tired.

He yelled at Frost to page Sarai when he saw your eyelids flutter close again. The doc would know what to do in this situation. Joker could only hold you close and keep you conscious until she arrived. There was no way he would risk trying to move you in such a fragile state.

"I'm sorry Joker." Your timid voice immediately gained Joker's attention.

"Nothing to be uh, sorry for mypretty girl."

"I.. it took longer t-than an hour." You reached up to cup Joker's cheek. He kept your hand there with his own.

"I am never going to a bank. Never again." You weakly jerked your head over at Mac. "Get him to do my finances from now on." You whined.

Joker cracked a smile watching you go back and forth with his book keeper. If you had the energy to make jokes then you'd be perfectly fine. Sure you'd have a nasty scar and a brutal recovery process, but nothing you couldn't handle with Joker by your side.

Joker looked up at Frost with a smug grin. "See? Told ya my Light ain't dead."

#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #joker x y/n #heath ledger #reader insert #black!fem!reader #ledger!joker #clingy!joker #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #heath joker #dark knight joker #joker x reader #ledger!joker x reader #his lighthouse

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lulucutie2nitexd · 8 days

Note

Can I have a yandere Miss Circle and Mr Demi x Fem reader?

I seriously have like 5 almost finished requests and the writing block hit me so hard because the only thing I wanna write about is FPE rn

Anyways

Remember that it is not okay to act like this in real life and if you do feel this way I'd advise you to get professional help.

Miss Circle❤️

• She's already murderous as is. Now she's obsessed with her co-worker and murderous? That's wonderful.

• She wouldn't dare let You catch her harming a student for a failing grade. She needs to always look innocent in front of you.

• She always tries to eat lunch with you if possible, and she packs some of the weirdest lunches too.

• She gets upset when you call her demon horns a cat ears, but she doesn't show it and just giggles.

• Her confidence can get overwhelming, she'll leave notes for you on your door asking for a date with something like "You're pretty >:3" and stuff.

• Occasionally she tries to pack you lunches but her own lunches are questionable so sometimes you have to pretend to like it.

• She can canonically change her height at any time and usually remains at 9'7, but she's used her ability to change in order to spy on you.

• She probably has atleast one picture of you guys together from a teacher meeting or something

Confession

You turn around to see someone approach you in the teachers lounge while you're getting water. "Hello there, I was questioning about something." She says confidently. However after getting to know her, you could see she was slightly nervous. "Yes miss circle?" You look at her smiling politely. The faint blush creeping onto her face as she tells you how much she admires you and that she adores you. "I've never felt such emotions. I never thought I'd say this to someone like you, but will You go out with me?"

Acceptance

You look at her smiling, heart feeling like it's going to burst out of your chest at any moment. "Yes, I will." You say to her somewhat flustered. The 9'7 demon lady giggling in excitement, happy beyond what words could ever explain. "Let's meet up tonight at 7pm after school" she said before running out of the teachers lounge with her inhumane speed. Later that night she meets you at your house, dressed neatly for the occasion. The simple yet beautiful picnic in the sunset was definitely something she'd always remember forever.

Rejection

"I'm sorry Miss Circle, I don't reciprocate." You said looking away from her. She silently walks out of the room with no hint of any emotion or expression she's feeling right now. When you went home at night you couldn't help but feel like you where being followed. She picks you up from behind, using her compass to keep you stable off of the ground sandwiched between her and her arm. With her other hand she drugs you to sleep. You never had a choice anyway.

★

Mister Demi💚

• So shy when he met you, he tried to hide away to the library. Unfortunately for him you where in front of the teacher lounge exit so he had no escape.

• Fell for You when he watched how caring and compassionate You are with the students. He's seen what some other teachers do and he's not fond of it..

• Wrote a whole song for You on the piano but won't ever show you. He's to scared that you might dislike it or be uninterested.

• He doesn't know what he's feeling and so he panics, like, a lot. He talks to Miss Sasha about it and she tries her best to explain to him that he's having a crush but it just makes him panic more.

• A crush soon turns into infatuation and he's too deep in. He starts panicking immediately noticing that this isn't healthy. He's seen normal couples and none of them act the way he wants to act.

• Also cries to Miss Sasha about the unhealthy infatuation but she's ends up more concerned about his mental over his feelings.

• Gets urged by Miss Sasha to seek professional help so he gets therapy (which he's terrified about) but the feelings don't stop.

• Literally acts like a fan girl after you talk to him or even breathe the same air as him.

Confession

Miss Sasha walking up to you during lunch with second hand embarrassment, note neatly tucked away into the pocket of her shorts. She politely starts up some small talk with you before getting to the point. "Sorry to bother you but, Mister Demi has feelings for you. He sent me over with a note to give to you." She smiles at you handing over the note. The note says "I really like being around you, you're so pretty. Please like me back. I'm sorry"

Acceptance

"Miss Sasha, please tell him I feel the same." You say to her giggling. She's so excited to watch your and his new relationship blossom. Sasha does however tell you about the obsessive behavior and that he is getting professional help for it. Although you are very keen on staying with him to help him though it. She's so proud of both of you, and herself for being the amazing wing woman she totally is. She goes back to Mister Demi who's sitting across the lunchroom. When he hears the news he is joyus. But he also slams his head down to the table in embarrassment. He's really shy but gathers enough courage from Sasha cheering him on and you both exchange numbers.

Rejection

"I'm sorry Miss Sasha, I don't believe I know Mister Demi well enough to form an opinion or feelings." She smiles and nods understandingly. However she whispers to you about the obsessive behavior and warns you about it. You're absolutely shocked. Glancing over to him immediately feeling uncomfortable. Sasha returning to Mister Demi with the news and handing him back the note. His whole world falls apart in front of everyone. He can't handle rejection well. He goes into a depressive and desperate state. Changing everything about him so that you'll love him. Eventually you don't even recognize him anymore until you realized how shy he is.

#fpe miss circle #fpe #fundemental paper education #mister demi #mr demi #miss circle #ms circle #fpe mister demi #miss sasha #ms sasha #fpe miss sasha #x reader #angst #comfort #yandere

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onmysluttyknees · 6 months

Text

Stockholm's Syndrome

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dave York x female reader.

Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18. ⚠️⚠️⚠️Warning! This is a fic about Dave York and it contains gun play! Do not interact if that is not your cup of tea! ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Words: 4K

Masterlist ✨

Wrong place at the wrong time. That appeared to be the story of your life. You always found yourself in precarious situations. But this was by far the worst one ever.

After a late night out with some coworkers, you were making your way home. You had assured them that you would be fine walking since your place was only a few blocks from the bar. You had done it numerous times before. No biggie.

But as you had walked down an alley, thinking you would take the shortcut, you had, however, inadvertently stumbled into something you were not intended to have seen. A man in dark clothing was aiming a gun at another man who was kneeling in front of him. And then the gun went off. You should have run away. You should have screamed. But you remained still, motionless, and silent.

You blinked a few times, as if that would rid you of the sight in front of you. But no matter how many times you blinked, what you saw didn’t change. The man who had moments ago been begging for his life lay dead on the ground, and the man in black leaned over, perhaps to make sure he was dead. A low noise was heard, and the man in black turned around and locked eyes with you. Fuck! Had you made that noise? You must have, because of the way the man looked at you, and before you had any time to think, he stood up and walked over to you.

And that’s when everything went black.

You woke up slowly, taking in your surroundings. Trying to move your arms, you realized you were tied up. What the fuck?! Then you remembered the last thing that happened before you blacked out. The man in black, the dead man, and all the blood pouring onto the ground.

Looking around as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed someone standing in the doorway at the far end of the room.

“I was beginning to think you hit your head too hard when you fainted and wouldn’t wake up,” the man at the end of the room said. You couldn’t see him; the voice was low and dark. It sounded almost as if he were smiling, though.

“Who are you?" And untie me right now!” You said, almost demanding. For someone in your position, you sure didn’t know how to act accordingly. You probably shouldn’t be so…so bitchy. But right now, fear wasn’t on your mind, even though it probably should be. Any normal person would be scared. And on some level, you guessed you were a little bit scared. But the moment the man stepped closer and you could see his face in the dim light emanating from the small window, something else took over.

His dark eyes, which looked almost black, made him look deadly. And his aquiline nose—you had always had a thing for men with big noses. And his jawline, with a five-o'clock shadow beginning to appear, made you want to run your tongue along it. You scolded yourself mentally for the way you let your mind run wild. This was insane. You were probably insane.

He was standing right in front of you, staring down at you, his dark eyes bored into you, straight into your soul. Thinking that if you had only taken an Uber, you would be at home in bed asleep now. But this was more interesting, even though it was so beyond fucked up that you even thought that. And you knew it.

He reached behind his back and pulled something out. A gun. Your eyes dropped to the gun in his hand. Eyes widening and your breath hitched, but not from fear. It should terrify you, but it didn’t. The thought that ran through your mind at that moment had nothing to do with fear. He looked at you, then the gun in his hand, he reached out to you with the gun and dragged it along your jaw.

“Are you scared?” His voice was smooth like silk, and you fought with yourself to keep your breathing as normal as you could. This was beyond fucked. He had you tied up and a gun in your face, but here you were, turned on more than you had ever been before.

“No,” you said as his dark eyes scanned your face. Your eyes dipped again to the gun, and a soft moan slipped out before you had the chance to stop it.

"Oh, you’re a really filthy one, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice like honey on toast while his eyes made you question your sanity. One should not be thinking that this man was hot, not in this situation at least. Any sane person would be scared out of their mind.

"No, I’m not," you said, but you couldn’t look away from the intimidating man in front of you or his gun.

You knew how fucked up this whole thing was. It really was. But at the same time, it turned you on immensely. It didn’t matter that he still had blood on his hands and clothes. That somehow made this whole thing that much more exhilarating. Fuck, you needed help.

“I guess we could have some fun before,” he purred as he let the gun drop from your jaw down to your neck, and he painted an invisible line with it as it descended down your heaving chest. Looking down where the gun was, you noticed a few of the top buttons on your silk blouse had popped open, giving the man a good view of your breasts. And he appeared to like what he saw.

“If I shoved my finger into your panties now, you would be dripping wet. Wouldn't you?” He asked in a low, somewhat threatening voice that sent a shiver through your body and down to your core.

“No,” You could feel the slick pooling in your panites even as you said it. They were already soaked; you pressed your legs together slightly for any kind of relief. And he noticed. A sly smirk spread on his lips, happy to be right, you assumed.

With him standing in front of you while sitting you down, you had the perfect view of the growing bulge in his black, tight jeans.

"It looks to me like you’re enjoying this,” he said with an arrogant sneer as you pulled at the restraints, wishing your hands weren’t tied up so that you could touch him. But you suspected that he preferred it this way.

“Why don’t you untie me?” You asked and tugged at the bindings once more. The rope was tied tightly and securely. There was no way you would be able to wiggle your way out of them.

He let the gun glide down and land between your thighs. His other hand grabbed a hold of one of your legs, and he pushed them apart before he let the hand without the gun slide higher up. You should have objected and tried to stop him. But truth be told, you wanted him to touch you. You wanted him to touch you there. The need for something was growing, and you didn’t know what you would do if he didn’t either release you or touch you where you needed it the most.

This was depraved and absurd. But as his hand moved higher up your thigh, you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out.

His fingers grazed the seam of your panties and like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat, this man pulled another moan out of you. He was barely even touching you yet, and you were already a quivering mess. Your breathing picked up, and you involuntarily pushed your heat into his hand. One finger slipped in under your panties and a low groan reverberated from him.

“So wet and needy, you don’t even know my name or if I’m going to let you go once I’m done with you,” he said with a sly smirk as he let his finger slide up and down your slick lips.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when his finger pushed in between your slit and nudged your clit. You kept tugging at the restraints, wishing hopelessly that you could get your arms free.

“Stay still, or you won’t get to cum,” he warned. And you did as he asked. What else was there to do? You wanted, no, needed this man to do whatever depraved things he was going to do, and you didn’t want him to stop. “Open your legs wider for me,” he demanded, his voice low, but with such intensity, you spread your legs as wide as you could within seconds of him asking.

He withdrew his hands from you and stood up. Causing you to whine from the loss of his touch.

“Don’t. Move,” he ordered as he walked over to a table by the entrance to the room. He flicked a switch, and a light came on above the table, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness, but this gave you a better view of the man. And the room.

Looking around, you notice you were sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. A double bed was behind you, and there was a small TV on a dresser next to you and then the table with the lamp on it by the door. It kind of looked like a cheap motel room.

“Where are we, by the way?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“At a motel just south of Boston, that’s all you need to know. Now,” he said, and he grabbed some rope off the table and walked back over to you. “Be a good girl and shut up,” he said, and he crouched down in front of you and grabbed one of your ankles. You took a deep breath as you realized what he was doing. Not only were your hands tied securely behind your back, but now he was tying up your ankles to the legs of the chair too. You were at the mercy of this man, and it had your mind racing and your heart beating rapidly.

“What happens if I’m not a good girl?” You couldn’t help but ask. It felt like playing with fire. He was, for all you knew, not a good man. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You really don’t want to know,” was all he said as he continued to tie up your feet.

“Maybe I do,” you said quietly, but he heard you. He didn’t say anything, though; he just continued to tie up your legs.

When he was done, he slid his hands up your legs and up your thighs and bunched up your skirt at your hips. Leaving you on display in your “Slide your ass a little bit forward so I can see that wet pussy of yours,” he said, licking his lips.

With a little bit of difficulty, you did as he had asked. And to your horror and delight, he picked up the gun again. Your eyes widened as he slowly let the gun glide up your inner thigh toward the apex. This was completely insane, and you knew it.

“Is it loaded?” You asked, for the first time, fear creeping into your voice.

“Trust me, it’s safe,” he answered.

He pushed the barrel of the gun against your dripping core, and you let out a moan as it nudged against your clit. Gripping your panties in his other hand, he ripped them off you and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Shouldn’t you take the bullets out? You questioned.

“It's fine; it’s not even loaded.” He said, and pressed the barrel against your now-bare core. You gasped, and you pushed your ass closer to the edge of the seat. Closer to him. And the gun.

He let the gun slide in between your wet lips. It was cold and felt foreign, but at the same time, it was so exciting. You wanted everything and anything this man would give you, no matter how twisted this was.

He was careful with his movements. Calculating and watching. Watching you. How your breath hitched when he nudged your clit. How your legs trembled slightly when the gun went lower to your hole. How your eyes rolled back into your head before you closed your eyes when he gently pushed it inside. Inch by inch until it was as far in as it could go.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped when he started moving the gun in and out of you. This was bad. So bad. Though you knew you’d let this man do anything he wanted to you. No matter how wrong this was. And this was beyond wrong. This was insane. Nonetheless, the cold metal of the gun felt positively sinful, thrilling, and heady as he kept moving it backward and forward.

He picked up the pace a little, and his other hand took a hold of your throat.

“Look at me,” he urged. And it took all of you to open your eyes. Your body was wound tight, and the familiar pull deep within had already begun. You were hurdling towards your release quicker than you expected or anticipated.

But when you opened your eyes and looked into his dark ones, it sent you over the edge. He thrust the gun into you again as he squeezed your throat just hard enough to limit your breathing, and you came hard. Your whole body shook as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, and just as your eyes began to lose focus due to a lack of oxygen, he eased up his grip on your neck before releasing you completely. You took a big breath of air as you came down from your high.

He slipped the gun out of you, and the slick noise it made made you look down. And you were shocked to see a slick sheen, the gun coated in your juices. Not only the gun, though, but the hand and the chair too.

He brought the gun up to his lips, stuck his tongue out, and licked your slick off the barrel of the gun.

“I’ve…that has never happened before,” you spoke softly, trying to steady your breathing.

“Interesting,” he remarked.

He pressed the mag release, and it popped out. He caught it in his other hand before putting it down on the dresser. Then he drew the barrel back to dispense the cartridge inside and dropped that one as well on the dresser. And then he put the gun down next to the mag and the bullet.

It really had been loaded the whole time. Fear crept up, but you quickly squashed it back down. It was too late to worry about that now. The deed was already done anyway.

He reached for your ankles and undid the bindings, then reached behind you to what you thought was to untie your hands too. Your arms had gone numb a while back, so you couldn’t tell, but when he lifted you up by gripping your shoulders, your hands were still behind your back.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” You questioned him and looked up at him. He was tall. And so big. He towered over you, and the way he was looking at you, you felt your arousal building up again. You were already beyond wet from your first orgasm, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander, thinking, hopefully, that other things on this man were big as well.

“No. Get on the bed. On your stomach,” he told you and nudged you towards the bed. You walked on instead, legs over to the bed, but he still had a firm grip on your shoulder, which thankfully kept you steady enough to get there without falling over.

With your hands still tied behind your back, you fell face first and let out a groan as you hit the bed.

"Well, isn’t this a wonderful sight?” He murmured behind you. Your skirt was still bunched up at your hips, and your ass was bare. A hard slap landed on your left asscheek and you couldn't help the yelp that came out. “Shhh…you can take it, can’t you?” He asked before he raised his hand before it came down on your other cheek.

“Fuck! Yes, I can take it.” Your breathing picked up; the line between pain and pleasure was being toed. “I can take it,” you punched out between heavy breaths. You shouldn’t like this as much as you did. None of this, what this man was doing to you. But in for a penny, in for a pound.

You heard a zipper being unzipped and the shuffling of clothes. Looking over your shoulder, you were met with the image of him putting on a condom on his very hard and very sizable cock. You licked your lips unconsciously, just as his eyes met yours.

“Like what you see?” He asked, gripping his member and pumping himself slowly a few times.

“Yes,” you answered truthfully; there was no point in denying it. The slick between your thighs was clear evidence of just how much you wanted him to fuck you. And to your delight, he didn’t make you wait.

He took a hold of your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your legs were hanging down and your feet were just touching the floor as he positioned himself behind you. Dragging his cock along your wet lips sent shivers down your spine. He dragged it along your wet slit and bumped it against your clit.

And in one swift move, he plunges inside all the way to the hilt. You cried out in pleasure to be filled up so fucking perfectly. He was big, and it felt like he was splitting you open with each slow drive he pushed into you. He picked up speed and set out a fast pace as he thrust into you hard, which had you both panting and moans filling the room. Tilting his hips just so with each thrust, he kept nudging at that soft spot inside, and you whimpered.

With a firm grip on your hips, he pounded into you hard. The bed creaked louder as he took you harder. He set out at a merciless pace. His fingers dug into your flesh and would most likely bruise. But you didn’t care.

As he kept thrusting into you, one hand grabbed a hold of your arms and pulled you back a little. Your arms had started to hurt, but when his other hand came down hard on your ass and he was still pumping into you, he made you forget all about the strain in your arms from still being tied up behind your back. It did, however, give him a good hold on you to pull you onto his cock each time he pushed into you. Harder and faster as he chased his own high, you felt the familiar tug in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, your pussy’s so tight. Squeezing me so good,” he grunted as he kept ramming into you.

“Spank me again, please,” you begged. And he did. Letting his hand smack down hard a few times, leaving red marks across your cheeks, as you felt the sting of the slaps, you mewled at the sensation. And with a final, hard slap, you came again.

You felt something wet land at the top of your crack and slowly slide down. Then you heard it. He cleared his throat before he spat at you again. Then with one finger he dragged the wetness down to your hole and pushed it in. You gasped at the intrusion, but marveled in the feel of him there.

He kept his pace as his finger prodded and pushed deeper. And with a final, hard slap, you came again.

Clenching down on his cock, you squeezed him tightly, which made him falter in his tempo, and then he let go and came with a loud groan, pouring his spent into the condom. He pumped a few more times before he stilled and slumped down on top of you.

As you came down from your high, you felt your arms ache from being restrained for so long. He rose, pulled out, and discarded the used condom in the trash under the table before he came back to you and began untying the bindings on your wrists.

“Go get cleaned up and dressed,” he said, helping you up before he walked over to the table and began packing up his things. As you were walking into the bathroom, you saw him picking up the gun and wiping it down. A smile spread on your lips. You could not believe you had let him do that to you or that you had actually liked it as much as you did. You ducked into the bathroom and cleaned up before rearranging your clothes back in place. You looked around for a moment before you remembered that he still had your panties. It looked like you were going without panties now.

When you came out of the bathroom, he was standing there with his bag in his hand and his clothes back in place. He hadn’t even taken them off when he fucked you. He looked as dangerous as he had in that alley, but now with a slight smile on his face. You wondered if he would let you go or not.

“Now what?” You asked as you walked up to him, staring into his deep brown eyes. The smile on his lips spread into a wide, wicked grin. And for a moment, you thought this was it; he was going to kill you now.

“Now, I will take you home,” he simply said before grabbing your hand and ushering you out of the room.

The drive back to your place was silent. You didn’t even wonder how he knew where you lived as he pulled up to your apartment complex. A man like him sure had his ways. He reached into the backseat, pulled out your purse, and handed it to you.

“Here,” he said, and he handed you your driver's license too. So that’s how he knew. You smiled and looked up at him.

“So will I be seeing you again?” You asked. You knew you should stay as far away from this man as possible, but that was not what you wanted. You wanted to see him again.

“I think you know by now that I am not a good man, and you should stay clear of me. I should let you go and let you get on with your life. But I liked what we did tonight, and I have a feeling you did too, so if you want, then yes, you’ll be seeing me again,” he answered.

“Well, you know where I live,” you said with a shrug. His hand came to rest on your thigh, and he squeezed gently before letting you go again. You unbuckled the seatbelt and reached to open the door before you turned around to face him again. “What’s your name?” You asked.

This man had just given you the best and most fucked-up sex of your life, and you wanted to know his name at least. If this was the last time you saw him, at least you would know that.

“Dave, now go inside and get some rest, darling. I’ll come by some day, I promise,” he said, and with that, you exited his car and watched as he drove off. Hoping he would indeed come back.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #+18 only #churchofthesluttyknee #smut #my imagination #imagination running wild #dave york #the equalizer 2 #gun play

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

Note

PART TWO PART TWO OF kiss my knuckles before you punch me in the face

PLEASE PLEASE PELASE PLEASEEEE

kiss my knuckles before you punch me in the face (part two)

(part one)

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: “Did we do the right thing?” Aelin asked after she was fully unconscious.

“Anything could have happened to her out there.” Rowan hedged, his eyes fixed on the sleeping form.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: gaslighting, kidnapping, dark & manipulative rowan/aelin, bad handling of mental health, mentions of suicidal ideation, toxic relationships, not proofread

A/N: honestly I wasn't planning a part two but here you go!

She blinked her eyes open slowly, the room spinning. A soft bed underneath her - a familiar one.

Aelin perched next to her on the bed, a concerned look on her face. “You hit your head pretty hard, my love, how are you feeling?”

“I didn’t … I didn’t hit my head.” They exchanged a concerned glance.

“You went for a ride this morning, you fell.” She knows she didn’t fall, she’s been riding for years. This morning, she left. She raised her hand up to her head, brushing her temple. A nasty bruise sat there.

She shook her head rapidly, wincing as pain pounded through it. “No. No, I left - you dragged me back here.” Her breathing grew rapid as she sat, trying to wrangle herself out of the blankets they’d wrapped her in. Aelin’s hands pressed down against her shoulders, trying to push her back down, but shoved away from her, managing to get to the other side of the bed. She glanced behind her, towards where the balcony doors were, but a shield of wind blocked them.

She’d told them? Hadn’t she? About her moment out there a week ago.

Rowan slowly rounded the bed, approaching her like a feral animal, his hand held up in front of him. “You need rest.” His eyes flicked to the small wound on the side of her head. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind. A night gown - not the clothes she’d worn this morning. Everything … all of the things she’d packed were back in their usual places. Almost like when she woke up this morning. “Can I heal that?” He asked gently, slowly taking steps towards her.

It did hurt, and letting him heal it couldn’t hurt. She gave a short nod. He didn’t touch her, but a small wave of magic flew towards her, healing the wound. She raised her hand up - no cut, bump, or bruise. Nothing to indicate what happened.

“You dragged me back here.” She emphasized, not willing to give that up.

“Get some rest,” she heard Aelin. “We can talk about this later.”

Sleep … sleep does sound nice, but she held her ground. “No. I’m leaving.” Her steps were shaky, but she moved quickly - almost sprinting to skirt around Rowan, but not fast enough as the Fae warrior caught her easily, holding her gently, but pinning her arms to her sides. A clever hold - one she couldn’t escape or fight. He had three centuries of experience on her. That didn’t stop her from trying, from squirming in his arms.

“It’s the head wound,” she heard Rowan tell Aelin.

“It’s not the damn head wound,” she cursed, “and one of you hit me.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at the accusation. Not an accusation, she reminded herself, a fact. She’s not crazy, not insane, but they’re making her feel that way. Rowan twisted her, so she faced his chest, running one hand through her hair to try and calm her. It didn’t work, she was still frantic - still desperate to leave.

Rowan pulled her into his chest, and looked at her with a frown. Get a sleeping tonic.

Aelin didn’t hesitate, rising to find some of the ones they keep on hand. They still get nightmares from time to time, y/n included. As soon as she was back, she circled the bed - over where y/n was still squirming in his arms, despite his best attempt to calm her. He turned her just enough, lightly grasping the back of her neck to keep her head in place, and Aelin tipped the jar down her throat before she could argue, and held her jaw shut. She stared at her, pure stubbornness in her eyes.

Aelin huffed, but pinched her nose. Forcing her to swallow it. Y/n tried to hold out for a while, but eventually she watched as her mate's throat bobbed, and only then let go.

She was mad, pissed - and reasonably, but Rowan easily lifted her into the bed, and the tonic worked quickly - lulling y/n off to a deep sleep.

“Did we do the right thing?” Aelin asked after she was fully unconscious.

“Anything could have happened to her out there.” Rowan hedged, his eyes fixed on the sleeping form.

“But knocking her unconscious, and lying about it?” She waited for him to meet her eyes, waiting for his response.

“She did fall. And we never denied what she said.”

Fell, but didn’t hit her head on the ground. As soon as Aelin caught her attention, Rowan knocked her unconscious, and they brought her back to the castle, unpacking everything - just as it had been before. Hoping it might bring back a sense of normalcy for her.

“I thought mates,” she said the word with so much vitriol, “couldn’t hurt each other.”

“We’re keeping you safe.” Aelin hedged.

“You’re keeping me miserable.”

They’d had repetitions of this same conversation over and over again for the last two days, and Aelin was nearly at her wits end. Aelin had never known y/n to be so … stubborn and unyielding. As soon as she was more … stable, and less likely to try and run out the damn door, they finally discussed what happened. Acknowledging she did try to leave. Still - they stuck to their story, she fell and they brought her back. A small loophole, just enough to keep them from saying a complete lie. She fell, but they didn’t say why.

“What will it take for you not to be miserable?”

“To leave.”

Aelin was getting nowhere. Rowan keeps insisting she’ll come around, but she’s starting to have doubts.

Rowan had the most experience with immortality, out of the three of them. He knew that he could out-wait y/n, wait for her to settle back in. He’d do whatever it takes to fix this - to keep her alive and happy. The first part he could do easy enough, but the second was more difficult.

He and Aelin had been on eggshells around her, but she’d been absolutely brutal - a complete spitfire. Almost to the point where he was amused by it, but seeing how it took a toll on Aelin curbed any sense of amusement.

“If you leave, we will find you.” Rowan said it so mildly that she almost didn’t recognize it as a threat. His eyes seemed to say, and drag you back here, again.

They never explicitly told her they dragged her back to the castle, and she didn’t figure out exactly how she ‘fell,’ but she knew they were using a loophole to avoid a complete lie leaving their lips. Maybe as a form of absolution for them, to ignore what they’d actually done. Dragged her back against her will, gaslighted her, drugged her, and kept her contained until they didn’t think she was a flight risk, or a risk to herself anymore.

She remembers the agony of leaving, how it seemed to break her heart with each step. Maybe it would be easier to stay here, to avoid that kind of pain again. But - that would mean they won.

“Tell us what to do here. What to do that will keep you happy.”

Keep her. Like some sort of possession. “You can’t keep me happy if I’m already miserable.” She spit.

He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Then tell me what will make you happy.”

The word on the tip of her tongue, the one she’d been saying all along, leaving. But … maybe she could try something different, “I've told you a thousand times, and you never listened before. Why should I think anything will be different now?”

“Because we know how close we came to losing you.” Aelin’s voice sounded from the doorway, she was leaning against the frame, her arms crossed defensively.

She found her eyes drawn to the Queen, studying her - her expression, the emotions rolling from her. Genuine, she could tell Aelin was being genuine. Rowan was harder to read, but something inside her told her he was as well. Still, she wouldn’t lay it out for them. She wouldn’t make it easy.

“Then figure it out.” Y/n said after a few moments of silence. “You’re the ones who need to fix it, you find the solution.”

Rowan grimaced, and exchanged a glance with Aelin. She could practically hear they’re conversation, she’s difficult or this is harder than I thought it would be. Good. She wouldn’t make this easy. Maybe she could stay … give them one more chance. Or she could gain their trust and run. As far away as she could, somewhere they’d never find her again. She could play the long game. Give them a few years, let them believe she’s truly happy, and leave when they’re least expecting it. Time for her to make a plan, and to get her revenge. She’s immortal, after all. A sense of calm settled over her, a calm that came with having a plan. Maybe it’s cruel, but they hurt her in ways they’ll never understand. It’s only fair she returns the favor.

#rowaelin x y/n #rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin #poly!rowaelin x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass x reader #not proofread my bad #please mind the warnings

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ayyy-pee · 3 months

Note

What do you think jjk men would be like at the club? Who'd hit me up? Lmfaooooo

PLEASE!!! JJK men at the club?? ok so (didn't proofread this shit)

Nanami

Would not be at the club. LMAO and I think he's a little bit of a nerd so he wouldn't approach you either LOL

Find him at a bar having a nice aged whiskey and reading a book. If you're over there, he may or may not be stealing glances at you from across the bar, where you're having dinner with a friend.

He thinks he'll say hello to you. But not right now. You're in the middle of a conversation and he doesn't want to be rude.

Yes, once you're done talking, he'll say something. He'll just wait for you to finish talking.

Nanami will admit that he hasn't been able to focus since you've made an appearance. He's been reading the same damn line in his book over and over and not absorbing a single word. All he sees is your stunning beauty. So captivating that Nanami finds his thoughts a little scattered.

So scattered in fact, that he doesn't notice someone coming and taking the seat next to him. So scattered that he hardly feels the tap on his shoulder. And so scattered, that he's completely caught off guard when he turns his head and is met with a smile that has him snapping his book shut and immediately turning his focus to them.

"Hello," you greet him, voice sending chills racing up his spine.

Suguru

Suguru stands at the bar, quietly observing everything going on. He sort of hates it here, but he likes people watching. The drinks are garbage too, but it's something to keep his hands busy. He's pretty sure the bartender is sick of staring at the back of his head, but he doesn't care.

Suguru isn't actually sure why he's even here, but his best friend invited him out and he needed to blow off steam anyway. He came out with an open mind in all honesty, but there hasn't been anything that's made him want to peel himself away from his spot at the bar...until now.

He sees you from across the club and it's like the strobe lights are as instantly infatuated with you as he is because they almost illuminate you with the way they follow your path across the room. His eyes watch you closely - the way you toss your head back when you laugh, how you wear the hell out of that dress you have on, how your hips sway lazily to the music playing while you chat with your friends. And suddenly his throat feels a little drier. That garbage drink starts to taste just a little better.

Suddenly, the club feels a lot more tolerable.

There hasn't been anything that's made Suguru want to peel himself away from his spot...until you turn your head and in an instant, your eyes lock with his. You flash him a beaming smile, gift him with a tiny wave that has his heart leaping into his throat, has his head spinning and not from the liquor.

He doesn't waste another second. He's on the move, mentally noting to thank his friend later.

Speaking of

Satoru

He's got you pressed against the wall in the halls outside the bathroom. It took him all of fifteen minutes to lay his eyes on you and make it his sole mission to have you by the end of the night.

Now, this is not his usual style. Satoru doesn't even like coming to the club much. And he's not really the type to hook up with just anyone, but there was something about you that had him quickly abandoning his best friend and asking you to dance. Looks like he'll make an exception for you.

You're sexy, funny, kind - all of these things Satoru found out in the short amount of time he spent with his hands on your hips pulling you closer. It's in the way you move, the way your breaths linger in the tiny space between you and him on the dance floor. He couldn't resist you if you tried.

He's not even ashamed of the fact that you two are blocking the path into the bathrooms, surely pissing everyone off (literally). But he doesn't give two shits when you slot your lips against him and run your tongue along his in a way that has Satoru's knees weak, has him pressing himself into you desperately.

"Wanna get out of here?" He breathes against your lips, grinning wide when you nod eagerly. You quickly make your rounds, saying your goodbyes to your friends before excitedly hurrying out of the club.

Sukuna

He's at the club but...everyone is staring at the big ass four armed dude standing against the wall and scared af tbh.

Choso

Is also not at the club lets be honest HAHAHAHHA he's at Yuji's baseball game cheering him on! He sees you in the crowd and in true Choso fashion, plops right down next to you. He picks up conversation easily, asks all about you and brags on his little brother to you like the proud older brother he is.

He's candid as ever, tells you he thinks you're really pretty and wants to take you out.

And you're a bit taken aback by how upfront he is. But it's refreshing. No red flags, no glaring warning signs going off about this guy. You know what he's saying is the truth and there are no games being played.

You give him your number, no problem.

#ayyypee answers

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here-have-some-stories · 2 months

Text

Silent Laughter Chap 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 9

One week later:

An entire week had gone by and nothing had happened. The creature didn’t make itself seen again, no windows would mysteriously open and shut, no music playing all of a sudden, no creepy images or messed up photos. Nothing. By now I had twelve X’s marked down on my calendar, and I was on my thirteenth day of survival.

It was on this very day that I realised I was running very low on food. I had been running out before, but that was a whole week ago. Now I needed to get more food supplies. So I guessed I had made it long enough.

I made the decision to go out and walk to the local supermarket. I would take a knife with me. I knew, realistically, it probably wouldn’t do anything against the creature, but carrying it gave me a sense of safety and protection.

As I was mentally preparing myself to shove into the outside world, I convinced myself that this could be a good thing. Not only would I get more food, but maybe I could possibly find some people who were actually alive. Ever since this had all started, I hadn’t actually gone past my street. I had no way of knowing if anyone outside of that was alive or not.

When I stepped outside, I noticed everything was very dark, like it came straight out of some sort of horror movie. It was cold. I walked down the street, cautiously glancing over my shoulder and looking left and right every now and again. I rubbed my arms to keep me warm, but it didn’t do much. I wished I’d bought a jacket.

I was about halfway down my street when I first noticed them. They hadn’t been around my house, but bodies were hanging from the trees, just like they had been in the nightmare I had.

I felt my heart rate go faster. The atmosphere seemed similar to the one in my dream. I felt my chest constricting and felt like I was going to have a panic attack, or pass out. But I kept on walking, and tried to ignore the eyeless bodies. There was also a lot of blood pouring into the drains on the side of the road, and some sort of meat in the gutter, but I paid no attention to that, just kept on walking.

When I made it to the streets with the shops on it, the darkness hadn’t cleared away, and there was still no one in sight. The bodies weren’t hanging anymore, instead they were scattered around on the ground, or hanging on fences, and there were more of them. It looked like some sort of massacre had happened here. The smell was horrible, and I brought up my hand to cover my nose and block out the stench.

The supermarket glass sliding doors had been smashed, and one was leaning on an angle. Most of the lights inside were off, apart from the occasional flickering ones. The creepy atmosphere was even worse inside, and I wanted to run back out, and keep running all the way home, but I pushed on and forced myself to step over the glass shattered on the ground.

Despite the darkness, I knew where everything was, and I easily made my ways to the different aisles, grabbing the food I thought I would need. I grabbed about two loaves of bread, a bottle of milk, some butter and spreads, a bag of fruit, a box of muesli bars, and some junk food snacks, because if I was going to die, why not spend my last days feasting like a king?

I was walking out of the chip aisle and all of a sudden I felt my foot fly up and I fell to the ground, dropping most of my food. I groaned as I stood up slowly and felt something wet and sticky on my hands. Blood. I slipped in blood. I quickly hurried away from it and hit something behind me. I turned around and saw a dismembered and bloody body of a store clerk. Black goop was leaking from where their eyes had been. I screamed, and grabbed up the food I could, before running out of the store, almost tripping up again and landing in glass. Ignoring the corpses on the street and in the trees, I ran all the way home, tears running down my face the whole time.

Woo hoo! Back to back chapters. I've pretty much got the same message and reminders down here as always. Please comment if you liked it and if you have and feedback or suggestions please tell me. If you have any requests for stories or questions, just send them to my ask box and I'll get to them. Hope you liked it! -Kenickie

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smolstarthief · 10 months

Text

Ok sooo I need to share this AU concept since I feel like it wouldn't make sense in the actual timeline and among other things but still it won't leave my head:

So remember how people came up with AUs where Joker and Maruki are related? Well... This was inspired by a part of me and Creepy's RP but what if Rumi had a surprise for Takuto and her parents on the day of their visit which obviously ended badly and put an end to that plan? That surprise ended up being Ren but unfortunately, Maruki already removed himself from her life so neither of them were aware of being related until present day and 3rd semester.

Poor Rumi would just be so confused on why she's carrying a baby after the (accidental) memory wipe but considering how her personality was described she would no doubt keep him despite the potential stigma she would be hit by. She starts living with her Grandparents and remaining family members after getting out of the hospital who were apprehensive about her having a child alone out of wedlock but take her in anyway. Also having probably met Maruki before at some point... They already assume that the father is him and believed that he abandoned her so therefore end up not mentioning him to avoid hurting her. Her grandparents at least cared more than them though and try to support her as she gets back on her feet.

Come the day Ren was born and Rumi absolutely dotes on him but does note something being a little familiar about him appearance-wise and she starts to feel off whenever she thinks more about it. Namely kinda like how, "Kasumi" ends up having random slumps/depressive episodes. This worsens as he gets older and starts showing similar quirks and behaviors as Takuto which her relatives (except for her grandparents) start to resent him for, especially when he starts asking questions.

At one point, Rumi ends up having a sudden breakdown due her own filter further weakening (curse the lack of power consistency with Maruki in canon) and an older Ren asking about his father which scares Ren and then herself when she almost hurts him in the process (probably not physically though since I don't see her doing that to her own child regardless of her mental state). This gets her sent to a mental health facility which Ren does visit more than her relatives (this would be part of why he was heading home late when he encountered Shido). Each visit can vary for him: One day she was her usual loving and energetic self that he knew as a child, the next she was hardly responsive despite his best efforts to talk to her. He also often brings a book or even a chess board since they both liked playing it ("Checkmate") to cheer her up.

He's still just as confused about his father and who he was but from what did learn and even overheard in the past about him, he starts to resent him. Even more so when his relatives start acting distant and cold towards him due to blaming him for Rumi's current situation.

And the lack of contact throughout the game? Blame the relatives as they wasted no time in sending Ren away for his probation which leaves her shattered but to them, it's better for her health in the long run. Being the stubborn woman she is, she still tries but is blocked and prevented from doing so each time which actually worsens things with her as opposed to helping her. It doesn't help that her Grandparents also passed away already by this point and they were actually her primary support system while everyone else in her family was just tolerant at best, uncaring at worst.

How Maruki would piece everything together I'm not entirely sure but maybe like this: He starts to notice Ren showing similar personality traits as Rumi and even himself but doesn't think much of it at first but then Ren decided to randomly bring a chess board to a session which surprises him but plays along as Ren states it cheers him up sometimes, his mom especially. Now I can see Maruki maybe playing it with Rumi when they were younger so when Ren starts showing more of Rumi's quirks as they play, Maruki starts to pale a bit. Again, kinda tying into that "Checkmate" line. Not sure how Maruki would finally figure it out since idk how he would get DNA test done while not seeming suspicious but maybe Shibusawa makes a comment about Rumi having a kid while they were catching up alone? Either way, he would probably also have access to medical files from Shujin and once he sees Rumi's name as his mother with the father not being listed...

"It can't be..."

Plus, I feel like once he gets the ability to warp reality then maybe he would have probed Ren's memories a bit for more confirmation. Needless to say, he's extremely guilt-ridden.

And poor Ren when he finally puts two and two together... Compared to canon, he's PISSED that the person he bonded with and confided to was also the person he resented the most and he just ends up making rash and impulsive decisions without thinking like Sumi before her reveal. Which is something that would startle even AKECHI of all people a little since he's so used to Joker showing more empathy. I would also utilize Raoul because fuck Atlus for making him a DLC Persona.

He would basically represent Ren's acceptance of everything and how he still wants to change Maruki's heart but not out of spite or revenge but to save everyone and HIM since he realized that Maruki is hurting too and needed help. He wants to reconcile with him. To summarize:

Also the departure for the "Leave" ending will be changed quite a bit with Maruki initially parting ways like in canon but then excuses himself with a break to catch up with Ren to give a proper goodbye (bumps into Sumi too). It leads to an emotional conversation until they see a familiar face that Ren immediately hugs. It was an astonished but slowly recovering Rumi. Her filter is gone too. Granted, it's a little bittersweet since Rumi would be kinda pissed that Maruki more or less up and left her alone (even giving him a good punch or smack) but she won't forbid Ren from seeing him either. She's just still a nice person at heart so she wouldn't be mad for long. Especially when Ren pleads his case and she trusts his judgement. That and she would acknowledge that she should've told him about her carrying Ren sooner before that visit to her parents.

The context behind her showing up would be sad initially... She came to Tokyo because she saw the news report of Ren's "suicide" from the facility and was heartbroken. But then she decided that she had enough of staying in that place and demands that she be released which the orderlies complied. She then decided to cut ties with her more toxic family members when they showed little to no care about that report and even insulting Ren to her face. She basically went to Tokyo to find Sojiro and a temporary place to stay as she decides what to do next. Obviously that changed when she sees him alive and hugging her. The filter would wear off after reality is back to normal too during her train ride hence her impulsive response to seeing Maruki.

It does get happy again though when she confirms that as soon as they come back to retrieve what's left of Ren's belongings, they're staying in Tokyo full time. She's also willing to talk with Maruki to catch up and try to give closure as well. Before they both depart, they each give him something to keep him company and remember them in the meantime: Ren gives him his favorite childhood plush toy that he carried around (which suspiciously looks like Mona) and Rumi... She gives him what she wanted to give him before that tragic day... An ultrasound photo showing a small silhouette of a baby. To say that Maruki cried quite a bit is an understatement as he hugs Ren tightly, apologizing repeatedly and promising to step and provide for them as much as he can.

Is TakuRumi gonna be endgame? Idk since a lot of time had passed and I honestly liked the aversion of expectations the game did by having him not get back together with her and deciding to start over on his own (I do wish that more closure was provided with her at least but oh well). Past TakuRumi is a definite but present day? Maybe not likely. But they would still get along since they both care about Ren greatly. Also just imagining Rumi going mama bear mode towards Zenkichi at the beginning of Strikers is too damn funny too.

#persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 strikers #p5s #persona 5 royal #p5r #p5r spoilers #starchild rambles #au idea #I guess ''Rumi Amamiya'' AU?? Idk yet #ren amamiya #takuto maruki #rumi #p5r rumi #rambles #ramblings

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mrsniallhoran505 · 2 years

Text

Good Morning Austin Girls!

fluffy Friday theme 3: being shy

You knew from the moment you met Austin that he was a shy boy. He could barely hold eye contact even though he tried. His face was red most of the time he talked to you. It was very cute so you didn’t mind his fumbles, but the director had started to get frustrated that Austin was messing up the scene so much.

“Cut... Lets take 20 for set up.” The director sighed and pulled Austin aside and talked to him about what was going on. Austin apologized and asked to go to his trailer for a moment to collect himself.

On his way to his trailer he saw you sipping a coffee leaning on your trailer. “Uh h-hey.” He smiled and looked down at his shoes.

“Hey pretty blues, you ok there?” You smiled at him, loving how his cheeks turned pink immediately.

“Y-yeah, yeah, uh just need some, um, time.” He nodded and pointed to his trailer.

“A moment to yourself.” You nodded understanding. “Always good when you are in your head too much.” He chuckles softly and runs his hand through his hair carefully.

“Yeah, I do that a lot actually.” He glances up at you and smiles but quickly looks away.

“You wanna know what I do to get out of my head and help me with hard scenes?” You asked. He nodded. You reach into your bag at your side and pull out a doob tube. “I take a hit or two.” You show him the pre roll you had.

His eyes went a bit wide. He knows it's legal in the state you are filming in but he still worries about getting caught. Or more so, worried you could be fired, or himself.

“It’s not for everyone but it helps me relax and then I can get through whatever blocks I set up mentally. I don’t smoke a lot or high doses. Just enough to feel buzzin.” You smiled and put the tube back in your bag.

“So it really helps?” He chewed his lip as he stares at your bag. “Doesn’t your eyes get red?”

“Yes and yes, but I keep eye drops with me and it clears them up so I don’t have to worry about it.” You show him the small bottle in your bag.

“Can I try some?” He asks as his face heats up making even his ears red.

“You sure you want to? Have you smoked before?” You look at him, a bit surprised. You never took Austin for someone down to get high. You knew he smoked cigarettes, but you thought it ended there.

“Yes and no. I want to try it if you really think it’ll help me. And I smoke just not weed.” He shrugged. “So can I?” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Ok but I need to be with you so if you have a bad reaction I can help.” You take his hand and pull him to your trailer. You sat on the couch and dug out your doob tube and started looking for your lighter. After a few seconds Austin holds up his own lighter.

You take the lighter and pop the top on the doob tube. You take out the pre roll and light it. You take a long and hold it before breathing out slowly to release it.

“Ok, don’t take too much. Let’s see how it affects you.” You hand it over and watch as he takes a drag. He tries to hold it but he starts to cough. It a hard cough making him sit up and lean forward a bit.

“Oh Aus,” You chuckle and get him some water. “Your high is gonna hit hard.” You chuckle and take the pre roll from him to take another hit.

“I’m ok.” He says after a few sips of water. “Just wasn’t expecting that.” He smiled at you and held his hand out for another drag.

“You sure?” You looked him over.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” You hand it over and watch. He takes the drag, and this time manages to hold it and let it out a few seconds later. “That should be enough to see how you handle it.”

He nods and just lays back on the couch to wait for the high to hit. You take one more hit then put it out and put it back into the doob tube for later. You sit back to watch him. At first nothing happens but then his eyes close slightly and he starts to smile.

“How’re you feeling, pretty blues?” You ask with a smile of your own.

“Like I’m on a boat, and its drifting in a calm lake. Softly rocking me side to side.” He makes the motion with his hand before chuckling softly. You chuckle softly and watch him continue the hand motion for a moment before finally his hand drops to his lap.

“So why are you struggling so much today? Something on your mind?” You ask, wanting to help him.

“Yeah, yeah actually there is something on my mind.” He turns to look at you, trying for serious but he was still smiling softly. “You!” He points. “You’re on my mind.” He huffs before poking the tip of your nose.

“You, little miss, with your beautiful eyes and soft hair. And, and, your cute little laugh. You distract me.” He pouts and sits back. “You make me act like an idiot. I take one look and suddenly I can’t even remember my own name.” He crosses his arms. “Your fault.”

You had no idea he felt like that or that he thought of you like that. You just figured he was shy with everyone and today he was just having an off day; but apparently he had a crush on you and was nervous. You go to speak up but he starts again.

“And today I have to kiss you for the scene and it's not fair. I don’t want the first time I kiss you to be for the camera. That’s not romantic.” He huffs and looks at you by letting his head fall to the side. “I want it to be just between you and me.” He pouts making himself look like a cute little puppy giving you puppy dog eyes for affection.

You smile at him and lean forward to brush the hair off his forehead back into the small quiff he was sporting for today. He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the touch.

“Is that why you’re messing up so bad today? You like me?” You asked softly trailing your finger down his forehead, down his nose to gently boop him.

“Maybe.” He hummed before opening his eyes. “Can you blame me?” He licked his lips drawing your attention to them.

“And what if I was to kiss you? Would that make the nerves go away?” You asked leaning closer to him and licking your own lips.

“Yes,” He nodded and looked at your lips. “I think it would.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He brings his hand up to cup your cheek.

Now it was your turn to blush but you don’t let it stop you from leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. For a moment he doesn’t respond. You start to pull back but he stops you.

“Wait, I wasn’t ready yet.” He turns more to you and tilts his head a bit. “Now I am.”

You chuckle and close the gap he created to kiss him. This time he kisses back but its cut short when he smiles.

“Sorry, one more time.” He asks before just kissing you himself. This time the kiss doesn’t break till someone knocks at your trailer door and calls you to set.

“Coming.” You yell and smile at Austin who can finally look you in the eye.

“Not yet but we’ll get there.” He smirked at you.

GMAG! Tag List:

@crackerbarrelslut @katsukis1wife @introvertisms

#mrsniallhoran505 works #austin butler #austin butler x reader #good morning austin girls #austin butler x you #good morning austin girls fluffy friday

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drippingheart · 5 months

Text

howdy, worms and germs. this is an indie rp blog dedicated to Getō Suguru and Fushiguro Megumi from Jujutsu Kaisen [ and lowkey Jin Marito from Bucchigiri ]. my portrayal is both anime and manga based. manga events will not be spoiled.

! ! ! themes present but are not limited to: violence, gore, abandonment issues, childhood trauma, depression, mass murder, child soldiers. this is not to say all my threads and headcanons will be violent or solemn. I do enjoy the light hearted side of friendship and bonding, but the trauma of being a jujutsu sorcerer is very important in my portrayals.

also important : I do not condone Suguru's actions. this is fiction. I love delving into his psychology and motivation. I try to understand it to a point, but his actions and mentality are not a reflection of mine. I am pro villains; their accurate portrayals are interesting.

i do not have the time for yet another blog, so i'll be writing and exploring a non-jjk muse here. if he gains any attention, i may consider moving him to another blog.

𝟎𝟎 details on megumi. 𝟎𝟎 details on suguru. 𝟎𝟏 promo. 𝟎𝟐 megumi visuals. 𝟎𝟐 suguru visuals. 𝟎𝟐 marito visuals. 𝟎𝟑 plotting call. 𝟎𝟒 memes. 𝟎𝟒 meme call. 𝟎𝟓 character study. 𝟎𝟔 alternate verses. 𝟎𝟕 introspection.

Rules are below the cut.

I’ll spare you anything long winded though these are definitely subject to change and certainly up for lengthening in the future!

— 𝟎𝟏 I run a mutuals only blog. If I follow you, I want to WRITE with you. I don’t collect followers and like to keep a tidy blog of people who interact with me. Since you’re reading this, that means you care enough to do so. I won’t bite your head off; please feel free to send memes or hit me up for a thread idea. I often clean up my follow list through soft blocks.

— 𝟎𝟐 I don’t write one liners or semis. The more you write, the more I’m inclined to reply rapidly. Quality and quantity fuel my motivation! I truly enjoy world building and scene progression, so novella length threads are sought. Plotting and winging things are equally enjoyed, however for lengthy and detailed threads ( esp crossovers ), plotting is preferred. I have a plotting call linked above.

— 𝟎𝟑 This is an 18+ blog as I am nearing my thirties. I don’t foresee posting NSFW images, but I write heavily graphic scenes thus don’t feel comfortable writing with minors. Any suggestive aesthetics or sinday memes will be tagged as " after dark .". I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, and I don’t want to make any of my followers uncomfortable. More regarding potential smut is below.

— 𝟎𝟒 I don’t have any triggers and don’t tag any triggers. Threads are generally rated M, but I can go PG-13 depending on who I am writing with. I do not shy away from violent and graphic scenes fyi; I really enjoy writing them actually! I encourage you to message me if you would like to write out something extremely graphic. Violence aside, smut may make an appearance. It is not the goal of my writing. If there's chemistry in the thread and between the writers, well ... who am I to say no. In the case of potential smut, aging up characters is fine; I know some people are sensitive about this. Smut will only occur with male characters as I am gay in real life and choose to depict Suguru and Megumi as gay, albeit not openly.

— 𝟎𝟓 When it comes to ages, I think it's vital to keep character ages canon. Yeah, JJk is great with all the lore and action, but the ages of the characters and the soul crushing and life threatening lives they live is the heart of the series. What everyone goes through as a child and as a teenager is incredibly vital. The only time I think aging up is alright is in terms of smut. Having said that, I'm not opposed to writing crushes or romances during their teens.

— 𝟎𝟔 I do moderate edits and formatting. Formatting isn’t a deal breaker with me honestly. I prefer length over pretty aesthetics. I do ask that you cut posts; I won’t be following if you don’t cut your posts or fail to tag your posts — all of your posts especially your ooc ones.

— 𝟎𝟕 Crossovers are loooooved to other animes/mangas, video games, to shows and movies. Do not be afraid to reach out with crossover ideas. I am also very much interested in AU threads especially involving Suguru since there is a lot of potential with him. So far, I have FFVII verses written up for both of the dudes. Provided interest, I will write up verses for Bleach, Castlevania, and the Witcher among other things.

— 𝟎𝟖 As stated earlier, currently I am all caught up with the manga. For those who are only watching the anime, I will not incorporate any manga elements in our threads. I do not openly discuss spoilers for the sake of other people. If I do discuss anything that may be considered a spoiler, it will be tagged as "!! manga ." and placed under a cut. Headcanons and drabbles including the events of the manga will be tagged with the aforementioned tag.

— 𝟎𝟗 Regarding Suguru, it is my preference to write him just as Suguru not as Kenjaku, however I am not opposed to it for the sake of an interesting thread. On that similar note, I am happy to write Suguru as a teenager.

— 𝟏𝟎 I encourage you to like the content you see. If you like the images, headcanons, songs I post, you are more than welcome to like them. Do not reblog my personal edits, headcanons, and even images I find and post ( still tag with art credit ) unless I have tagged you in the post. You are also welcome to tag me in posts; that would make me very happy! When it comes to memes, please reblog from the source. PLEASE.

— 𝟏𝟏 When it comes to asks/memes, I treat them as independent little snippets. Sort of like insights with some or no background information. Sometimes I write them intentionally vague because it's what comes to me at the moment. I do not treat ask responses as starters, however you are more than welcome to continue a response of mine if you like it enough! Also, I have an ask box call linked above, and you are always welcome to like and comment it whenever you want to be sent things. Seriously. You'll never pester me. You can like request ask box things 24/7.

#Jujutsu Kaisen rp #JJK rp #megumi fushiguro rp #suguru getou rp #bucchigiri rp #𝟬𝟬 out of curses .

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yourfifitherealone · 2 years

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I Still Love You, No Matter What

(pic by @lylawyla on insta)

I know I said I would leave her alone, but I just don't know why she would cheat on me! I thought she knew I was the best for her, I made sure that she knew! Who could possibly know her better?! What does she take me for?! I just couldn't leave her, I can't. I mean I did but I've been spying on her everyday (a lot more than I was before) when Ill noticed she was talking to a guy "friend" very often.

She was supposed to be hanging out with that same "friend" today at the friends house. I swear if I see anything sexual I won't be sneaking anymore, I'll just slit the guys throat. When they finally got there my love said she had a gift for them. I considered killing them and maybe just kidnapping my dear. I slowly pulled out my knife and gripped the end tight. I needed to cut something but I couldn't afford to hurt myself right now I need to cuts and bruises on my arms just in case I need to break in.

After a few hours I started getting bored if I didn't hear the conversation through the window I would've fell asleep. Then Y/N pulled out a pink mini bag. Her friend smiled and laughed nervously then he pulled out a pregnancy test. I dropped my knife and my jaw. What the hell just happened? He jumped for joy while hugging her and touching her stomach. I could feel like i wanted to throw up.

I picked up my knife a held it for comfort, my knives never hurt me at least not mentally they always helped me they'll surely help me take care of her "friend". How dare she!? She didn't just forget about me, she's just trying to make me jealous, definitely, totally, 100%. After him fangirling over her and the baby (Which I should be doing) for a another hour she gets ready to leave I'm tired but fueled by rage and maybe a little jealous. She walks down a block before I pull her into the back of a alleyway. She muffled into my hands that were suppressing her yell she tried to hit me but he being in front of me and holding her tightly just the way it should be her attempts were failing.

"Who was that guy you were hanging out with? You gonna introduce me, doll?" I guess she freaked out just a little bit when she heard the nickname she tried to run and kick. I was already tired and upset I felt like throwing her into the back of a truck. I pushed her against the wall "Look. You're going to leave them or keep hanging out with them and sleeping with them and I kill them and get someone to kill them for me." (I smiled just thinking of the idea she tried backing up but unfortunately for her, she can't go through walls.)

"I'm not sleeping with them even if I was it's none of your business." (She was always stubborn...) "Well I used to be your boyfriend so it is." "Yeah keyword, USED to. You're my ex now." She said more quiet she could barley hold eye contact with me. "You can barely even look at me. You're guilt of something, aren't ya?" "No-get away from me fucking prick!" She pushed me off her and jogged off. (She can get away for now...I'll get her next time, and I'll make SURE that baby is mine.) It comforted my mind that running back to her was now not a moment of weakness (I can say that I only care for the baby but for how long can I keep up that lie for?)

After a few days I watched her and made sure she went home safely. It was late and dark (I don't need a plastic test to tell me it's mine I don't care. I cancjust hope the baby's different colored hair does make me kill them both! it's gonna be just like me murder, handsome lil baby boy and green hair it's gonna be great!) After imagining my life with my baby and my baby I started trying to sneak in through the window it was locked usually shed leave it cracked to "let air in" is what excuse she'd give me when we were together. When I finally picked the lock I saw my darling, laying on the bed sleeping with her hand over her waist hanging of the bed.

The light was dimmed and blown out candles on the nightstand. Next to the nightstand was a trash bin with 3 positive pregnancy test. My heart felt like it was about to burst (she's so cute). I took a few pictures of my darling closed and locked the window and got back into bed with my love. I held her hand and fell asleep comfortably despite her hair being so close to my face. She'd usually were her bonnet but she's forgetful and now pregnant I'll cut her some slack.

(In the morning I'll buy some stuff for her and the baby as a little...baby shower gift).

#yandere #villain deku #Yandere Izuku #yandere izuku x reader #yandere izuku midoriya #mha #my hero academia #yandere deku

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