#I had the vision of him sobbing on the ceiling

[vm-haunts]

Half Life Crisis

Tucker: Hey- uh. What's up with Danny?

Sam: Ignore him, he's having his half life crisis

Tucker, snorting: He's what, 16? Isn't it a bit early for that?

Sam: I said half life, not mid life.

Tucker: *visibly confused*

Danny, face down sobbing into the floor: What even is the purpose of Phantom if he's not needed for ghost fights anymore!!

[Yes this is about Danny losing his power in phantom planet and AGIT because (he thought) he isn't needed anymore.]

[pucksandpower]

Three Weeks

Day 2 → Chastity 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

Three weeks.

Three weeks is all it took for you to lose your sanity, to be stretched thin by a mixture of longing and frustration so intense it makes you want to scream.

And scream you have — into pillows, into the empty apartment that feels like it’s mocking you with its silence. Max is thousands of miles away, tearing up the circuits in North and South America, while you’re here, in bed, staring at the ceiling with tears of sheer, unfiltered need blurring your vision.

It’s the belt. That damn belt.

It’s tight against your skin, a constant reminder of his control, of how much you want him, of how much you can’t have him. It’s cruel, almost — leaving you like this, teetering on the edge of madness, so close to breaking that you’ve nearly begged him over the phone to let you take it off.

But Max, in his cool, controlled way, simply chuckled. “Patience, schatje,” he had said, voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

You haven’t seen him in weeks. His voice is all you have, crackling through the phone, teasing you mercilessly, coaxing more desperate pleas from your lips with every passing day. The sound of engines roaring in the background as he whispered sweet, sinful things to you, telling you how much he misses you, how he can’t wait to get his hands on you.

And now, you’re here. Alone. Aching.

The tears that slip from your eyes aren’t new. They’ve been coming in waves, uncontrollable and humiliating in their persistence. You’ve tried to study, to focus on anything other than the throbbing between your legs, but nothing works. Every time you close your eyes, you see his smirk, feel the phantom touch of his fingers tracing over the belt’s leather, and it’s enough to drive you mad.

The apartment door creaks open, and you freeze, half convinced you’re imagining it. But then you hear the familiar sound of his footsteps, slow and deliberate, and your heart skips a beat.

“Max?” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper, but it carries through the stillness of the room.

He steps into the bedroom, and for a moment, you just stare at him, unable to comprehend that he’s actually here. Max looks every bit the champion he is — tall, broad-shouldered, with that aura of confidence that makes your stomach flip.

He’s home. Days early. And he’s looking at you like you’re his next victory.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

His tone is soft, almost teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver. He’s right — you are a mess. A pathetic, frustrated mess who’s been counting down the seconds until he’d come home, until he’d finally-

“Please,” you choke out, the word escaping before you can stop it. There’s no dignity left in you, no pride — just raw, desperate need.

Max’s smirk deepens, and he reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong, schatje? Did I leave you like this too long?”

The question is rhetorical, but you nod anyway, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Good.”

A shudder runs through you at the single word, your breath hitching in your throat. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how much you’ve been suffering, and he’s relishing every second of it.

Max’s fingers trail down your body, stopping at the belt’s buckle. He tugs on it lightly, making you gasp as it tightens around you. “You’ve been good, haven’t you? Kept this on just like I told you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, nodding frantically. “Yes, Max, please-”

“Shh.” He cuts you off, his thumb pressing against your lips. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”

His command is clear, and you don’t hesitate, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t — Max, I can’t stand it anymore, I need you-”

He hums, clearly satisfied with your answer, and finally, finally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver key. The sight of it makes your heart race, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as relief and anticipation flood your senses.

Max doesn’t rush. He never does. Instead, he takes his time, savoring the moment as he slides the key into the lock, his eyes never leaving yours. The click is almost deafening in the quiet room, and when he finally undoes the belt, you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips.

He pulls it away from you, tossing it aside carelessly, and then — then he just looks at you. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail, every tremor, every breath you take. It’s maddening, the way he’s just standing there, watching you unravel before his eyes.

“Max,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you. “Please.”

But he doesn’t move. Instead, he leans down, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, and he blows — a single, soft puff of air against your neglected bundle of nerves.

It’s all it takes. The sensation is so light, so fleeting, but it’s enough to send you over the edge, your body seizing up as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. You cry out, arching off the bed, your vision blurring as you’re torn apart by the force of your release.

And Max just watches. He watches as you shatter beneath him, as you tremble and writhe, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He’s in control — he always has been — and he’s enjoying every second of it.

When you finally come down, your body going limp with exhaustion, he smiles. It’s soft, almost tender, but there’s a wicked glint in his eyes that tells you this is far from over.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you like a second skin. “And I’m going to remind you of that every single day.”

You don’t doubt it for a second.

Max doesn’t waste any time. The second your body starts to relax, sinking into the bed with the aftershocks still rippling through you, he’s on you again, hands firm and unyielding as they slide down your sides. There’s no tenderness in his touch now — no gentle caresses, no soft murmurs. He’s relentless, each move calculated to drag you back into that haze of desperation and desire that’s been your prison for weeks.

“Max, I-” Your voice breaks, but he doesn’t let you finish. He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his lips bruising against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls against your mouth, and there’s a thrill that shoots through you at the possessiveness in his tone.

You nod, even though every part of you is already trembling from exhaustion. But Max doesn’t care. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, doesn’t check to see if you can handle more. He knows what you need — what he needs — and he’s not going to stop until he’s satisfied.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with a force that makes your breath hitch. You’re still oversensitive, every nerve in your body on high alert, and when his fingers slide into you, it’s almost too much.

“Max-”

“Shh,” he soothes, his thumb pressing down on your clit with just enough pressure to make you squirm. “You can take it, schatje. I know you can.”

Your head is spinning, the mix of pleasure and pain blurring together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. But even through the haze, you hear the challenge in his voice — the unspoken dare. You won’t beg him to stop. Not now. Not after everything.

He moves his hand with a skill that makes you see stars, curling his fingers just right, his thumb rubbing circles that have you gasping for air. You’re already so close, your body primed to snap at the slightest touch, and Max knows it. He knows exactly how to push you, how to stretch you to your limit and then demand just a little more.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on your face as he works you over. “So beautiful like this. You’re perfect when you fall apart for me.”

You can’t speak, can’t do anything but moan as he continues, his words sinking into your skin and lighting you on fire. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure builds again, more intense than before.

“Max, I-” The words are swallowed by another moan as he hits that spot inside you, and you arch off the bed, every muscle in your body tightening. “I can’t — I’m going to-”

“I know,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “But you’re going to wait for me.”

It’s impossible, but you try, biting down on your lip so hard you taste blood. Your entire body is screaming at you to let go, to give in, but Max’s grip on your thigh tightens, grounding you.

“Wait,” he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re mine, schatje. You come when I say.”

It’s torture — sweet, agonizing torture — and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. But Max is relentless, his hand working you with ruthless precision, keeping you right on the edge until you’re sobbing from the strain.

“Please,” you beg, the word slipping out before you can stop it. “Max, please-”

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now.”

The single word is all it takes. The coil inside you snaps, and you’re falling, tumbling into the abyss with a scream that echoes through the room. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, so intense that it leaves you breathless, trembling, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Max doesn’t stop. Even as you’re coming apart beneath him, he keeps going, pushing you further, dragging out every last bit of pleasure until you’re nothing but a quivering, sobbing mess in his arms.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you fall to pieces. “You’re doing so well for me.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think. Your mind is blank, your body limp, completely at his mercy. And yet, there’s a part of you that craves more, that wants to keep going, to see how far he’ll take you.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, watching as your body shudders at the loss. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he positions himself above you. The look in his eyes is predatory, his intent clear. He’s not done with you yet — not even close.

“You’re going to give me another one,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And then another, until I’m satisfied.”

You don’t know how you’ll survive it, but you nod, the need to please him overwhelming every other thought. Your body is already spent, muscles twitching with exhaustion, but when he thrusts into you, filling you completely, every nerve comes alive again.

The first thrust steals the breath from your lungs, the stretch almost too much after everything. But Max doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours with a force that has you crying out, your hands clawing at the sheets.

“Max-” His name is a broken plea on your lips, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, he speeds up, his grip on your hips so tight that it borders on painful.

“You can take it,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “You’re going to take everything I give you.”

Your body responds to his command, the pleasure building again, too fast, too intense. You’re already so close, the edge looming before you, but Max doesn’t let up. He drives into you with an urgency that makes your head spin, his breath hot against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss.

It’s too much, and you’re falling again, the orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you sobbing, clinging to him as your body convulses with the aftershocks. But Max doesn’t stop. He keeps going, pushing you through the pleasure, dragging you back up to that peak again and again until you’re trembling, your cries muffled against his chest.

You lose track of time, of everything, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of his skin on your lips. He’s relentless, driving you to the brink and pulling you back only to shove you over the edge again.

“Please,” you whimper, your voice barely more than a broken sob. “Max, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he says, his tone firm, unwavering. “One more, schatje. Give me one more.”

You don’t know how you can, your body already beyond its limit. But Max’s hand is on your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Or,” he adds, his voice deceptively calm, “I’ll put the belt back on. Another three weeks, just like this.”

The threat is enough to cut through the haze of exhaustion, your eyes widening in alarm. You can’t — another three weeks of this would destroy you.

“Max-”

“It’s your choice,” he says, his tone casual as if he’s not asking you to make an impossible decision. “But you’re going to give me one more either way. So what will it be, schatje? Now, or later?”

There’s no real choice, and he knows it. You’re too far gone, too desperate to defy him now. “Now,” you whisper, your voice cracking on the word. “Please, Max. Now.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, dark and satisfied. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hand moves between your legs, finding that sensitive spot with ruthless efficiency, and you scream, the sound torn from your throat as the pleasure crashes through you again. It’s overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, and you clutch at him, your nails digging into his skin as your body spasms with the force of it.

“Max-” His name is a plea, a sob, but he’s not letting up, driving you harder, faster, until you’re convulsing beneath him, your vision going white as the world falls away.

This one is different. It’s not just an orgasm — it’s a breaking point, the moment where your body gives out completely, surrendering to the relentless onslaught of pleasure. You feel yourself falling, tumbling into an abyss with no end, and Max is the only thing grounding you, his hands on your hips, his voice in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves you.

By the time it’s over, you’re spent, completely and utterly spent. Your body is limp, your mind blank, and all you can do is lie there, panting, as the aftershocks ripple through you.

Max slows his movements, his hands gentle now as he soothes you, murmuring soft words of praise as he strokes your hair. “You did so well, schatje,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride. “So good for me.”

You can’t respond, too exhausted to do anything but cling to him, your body trembling with the remnants of everything he’s put you through.

Max brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender now as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s over,” he murmurs, his voice softening. “You did so well.”

You nod weakly, your breath evening out as you slowly come back to yourself, the warmth of his body comforting against your own. He holds you close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, grounding you in the here and now.

“Rest, schatje,” he whispers, his lips grazing your temple. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

With those words, the last of your tension melts away, and you finally let yourself drift, safe in the knowledge that you’re in his arms, exactly where you belong.

[jeongin-lvr]

💭 ׄ ︵͡ speak up, c. yeonjun

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅，𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄，𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇，𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽，𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇，𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺，𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀，unedited．

[ 𝟫𝟤𝟪 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ☆ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ☆ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

"𝗗𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗬－ 𝗗－" Your voice was melodic; simply hypnotizing. It had Yeonjun biting his lip and itching to hear more, dick pressing deep into you, his hands on your thighs to keep them well spread so he could reach as deep into your sopping pussy as he could. You whimpered into his broad chest, tears smeared down your face while the once gorgeous makeup you wore diluted into a smudged mess.

"You're alright, you're alright," Yeonjun comforted in a soft coo. When you arched your back like that he had to stare— and he stared hard. Watching how your tits jutted out so prettily, how the dip of your back came off the mattress in a bridge shape. Especially how your thighs shook from the pleasure he was providing you; dragging his cock in and out of you quickly, hard too just so he could watch how you gasped.

"You're doing so good," Yeonjun chuckled, "Dick that good, baby? Daddy's dick make you feel good?"

You desperately nodded yet at the same time tears pricked down the side of your face.

Yeonjun smirked, arms on either side of your head as he rammed his hips into you at a pace you couldn't understand how he was maintaining. He was relentless; you'd think after three orgasms he'd be done. But he just wanted to see how far he could push you before you were shaking and prying him off with big, pretty, fat tears spilling down your face by the bucket-load.

"Mmh! Full— it's so full!" You gasped out when his tip breached a new spot inside of you. Your breath catching your throat, choking as you cling onto his back with your digits digging into his pale, heated skin. Yeonjun winced, addicted to the way you moaned, the random filthy words leaving your pretty, innocent jaws. How your tongue would swirl out the corners, how your drool spilled past your chin.

"I know, I know," Yeonjun let you babble. All he needed was to feel you. He knew he had it in him to last as long as he needed; his stamina relentless as he pounded into you with sharp, hard smacks, "Pussy so good for me, baby, so, so good. Practically made for my dick. Fuck, so warm and wet... so good f'me."

His hot breath pooled at the base your neck, making you shiver at his words. It was beginning to grow overwhelming. All your prior orgasms were clouding your mind and it was like the ceiling was dropping over you. It was like your brain was fuzzy and every word he whispered nastily into your ear was 10 times louder than it actually was.

"Daddy! W-wait— no, no!" Yeonjun was spitting directly onto your cunt now, though it really didn't need the extra lubrication. He was simply just addicted to the squelch of your bodies meeting from the slick. Yeonjun tilted his head back with a long groan as he felt the hot slick fall down your pussy in a thick glob, making the pleasure of being connected to you all the more intense. He let his thumb rest in your clit, making you jerk and scream, "Can't! No! Too much! S' too— nghh!"

Yeonjun shook his head, letting his thick black hair coat the vision of his eyes. He listened to you ramble, hips shaky and voice twisting around every syllable.

"No, no! Please no more, daddy," You pleaded as sobs left your throat, "Too much— it hurts!"

Yeonjun didn't stop though; hips slapping harder at the sound of your pretty cries. They blessed his ears, tender words desperate and lost. Your big Bambi eyes bearing up at him, blotched with tears in your eyelashes and at the corners of your irises. He wasn't going to stop; besides, that wasn't the safe-word, was it?

"That didn't sound like the safe word, Angel," Yeonjun sounded so condescending, tucking hair behind your ears as he cooed at you, "Besides I know you can take it. Just relax. See? You're doing so good, pretty little thing."

You whimpered into his shoulder, his arms wrapping around your torso, holding you still and squished against his chest. You could hear the rapid beat of his heart into your ear, how his breath caught in his throat each time you whimpered his name.

"Feels weird— m' gonna— daddy, please, please, plea—" You entire body shook, head harshly dipping back into the pillow, hands clasping around his bicep in an attempt to ground yourself. You were floating as your entire body quaked. Yeonjun felt your cunt clench harshly around him, making him suddenly moan out in a shaky tone. Yeonjun watched your cunt spasm around him; this time, instead of seeing your pretty cum gush in gorgeous globs of pearl, your pussy squirted thick ropes of clear liquid along his tummy. He gawked at you, staring between your twisted face and your messy cunt.

You whimpered, limp like a doll as he slowed his hips, enamored by the mess you made.

"Oh, that was so fucking good, sweetheart," Yeonjun praised immediately, pulling out as he felt his orgasm tip over, jerking himself off until he finished all over your abused tummy, letting it drip onto your pussy in intricate rivers through your folds, "See that, baby? Took me so good you made a mess," Yeonjun was so giddy with himself, pecking your fucked out lips. You couldn't even kiss back, twisting in his arms and clinging to him like a koala, "Daddy knows your body better than you do."

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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[imwetforyourmom]

home? home.

summary: y/n gets shitfaced drunk and only wants chris, she considers him her home.

warnings: swearing

can you tell I kinda gave up towards the end??

~

y/n groaned as she climbed into the back of matts car, with a pounding headache, her vision slightly blurred and a sick feeling in her stomach all she wanted was to go home.

she sat back in the car and groaned uncomfortably as she buckled herself up, the seatbelt too tight on her belly and making her feel only worse.

matt got in the drivers seat and began the car, buckling himself up he glanced at y/n through the rear view mirror, taking in her appearance. the way some of her makeup was wiped off, and her nose crinkled as she clutched her stomach.

she closed her eyes and mumbled to herself, "home, home, home" she leaned her head onto the window, despite the bumps making her even more nauseous all she wanted was chris, chris chris chris.

her thoughts overrided with chris, all she could think about was how gentle his hold would be, his soft and comforting words, his toothy grin immediately improving y/ns mood when she was down.

fuck, all she wanted was chris and she couldnt have him. he was at home, sleeping peacefully. while she was shit faced drunk and thinking about him.

she longed for the warmth he would bring by simply being there. the comfort his hands brought when laid upon her. the calmness she felt when chris' loving eyes were focused onto her. his sweet words were the only words she seeked approval and praise from.

she slowly drifted off to sleep, the hold around her stomach loosening as her body went unconscious with thoughts of her chris.

•                                •                                   •

"y/n" chris whispered, his gentle hands currently ontop of y/ns shoulders, shaking gently at attempt to wake her up.

after matt had woken chris up with the words "y/ns drunk and has been mumbling your name the entire ride here. pretty sure she'd rather wake up to you than me." he got up almost immediately and went to the car.

y/ns eyes opened slightly, adjusting to the bright light from the ceiling of the car.

she opened her eyes fully and let them wander over chris' features, looking at his jaw, hair and eyes. in which, since she was drunk she did not who the fuck was standing infront of her.

"y/n, come on. lets go inside." chris whispered, unbuckling her and urging her to leave the car.

"wheres my home?" she spoke, her voice raspy and her vision slightly blurred with tears, both from missing chris so much and her stomach ache, the sharp pains in her lower abdomen pricking more and more water droplets to her eyes.

"right there." chris answered, pointing a finger at the home currently infront of the car.

he wrapped his cold hand around her body and let it rest on her waist. then he gently pulled her body out of the car.

"nooo. thats not my homee" y/ns voice was high pitched as she whined, she meant chris, she wanted chris. but she didnt know chris was the one currently holding her.

"then what home baby?" chris asked, his voice laced with confusion, did she just say she didnt live with him? is she that drunk?

"my chrisss" she whined, dragging out the 's' aswell as pitching her voice higher and higher, expressing her emotions.

she felt her knees buckle as she walked unwillingly with chris, him dragging her along with him inside the house.

tears slipped from her waterline and down her cheeks as small sobs slipped from the captivity of her throat.

chris' heart melted at her words, hearing the love of his life consider him her home was everything to him.

chris stopped dead in his tracks and turned around ti face y/n, he cupped her cheeks and wiped her tears away, mumbling sweet words to her.

"its okay, my love." he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. he pulled her into his chest and rested his head ontop of hers.

"home is right here, hes holding you." he whispered, fighting back tears. he so was over overwhelmed with happiness he couldnt help but let a few tears slip.

his heart fluttered when she wrapped her arms around his torso, her sobbing slowly stopping.

"home?"

"home."

778 words.

tags

@luverboychris @luvsturns@meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @genshin-addict

[mama2bears]

Unspoken Words -Part 2 (Final)

Warnings: Angst, injury, pregancy

Pairings: Tyler Owens/F Reader

Part 2 of a request recieved. Hope I captured what you were looking for. I did my best on it. Enjoy! *Part 1 here*

You slowly opened your eyes. Your head was pounding. You heard water dripping. Fighting against the blurry vision you tried to remember what happened. Slowly the memories came back. You tried to call Tyler, then the tornado siren went off and you ran down to the basement. “Tyler?” You called out. Why wasn't he here? Surely he knew about the tornado. He would have came for you or at least called you to make sure you were okay.

Searching around you found your phone and grabbed it up. No calls received, and no service...which was normal after a large tornado. Your mind flashed back to when Tyler tried calling you and left voice mails...which you didn't care to answer or even check at the time. He was trying to call you. He was trying to warn you and you were too stubborn to let go of your hurt and anger and answer...or maybe he was calling you because something happened. Did he get caught in the tornado? Is that why he isn't here now searching for you?

“I need you, Ty.” you whisper and put a hand on your stomach, “I need you and our unborn baby needs you. We love you.” tears streamed down you face as you slowly sat up and checked yourself for any injuries. Other then your throbbing head, you didn't feel pain anywhere else.

Around you though, was total destruction. A broken pipe from the ceiling was spraying water. Things were blown around the room, part of the ceiling was collapsed and you could hear people calling for each other.

You carefully stood up, having just enough space. The stairs you came down were now gone. You were surrounded by concrete and splinted wood.

From somewhere beyond where you were trapped, you could hear someone calling your name...and Tyler's” Quickly, you recognized the voices of Dexter, Lily, Dani, and Boone. They were here looking for you...but where was Tyler? Why wasn't he here? Why were they calling his name too? Fear gripped you as the realization sank in. Something had happened. Your body shook with sobs as you cried out 'I am here.' to the team, hoping they'd hear you. You had to get out of here and find out what happened to Tyler. You had to find him. “Please be okay, Ty. Please.” you mumbled though the tears.

“Y/N? Can you hear us?” Boone was calling. It sounded like he was right on top of you.

“Here! I am here!” You called.

“We hear you. We're coming.” the team worked quickly tossing debris off to the side. “Are you okay? You hurt?”

“Tyler...where is Tyler?” you cried, afraid of the answer you'd hear.

You heard the work stop and there was a long silence. “He isn't with you?” Boone asked.

“No. He left last night to go chasing today.” you were now shaking, hugging your legs to yourself. “ I am okay, but I need Tyler. Find him.”

“We will, honey.” Dani said, “But we gotta get you out of here first.”

“Boone, did you see Tyler at all?” you asked, a new fear rising. Maybe Tyler just left town. Left you. Maybe he was done, just like you said you were. Maybe, he no longer loved you or cared what happened. You hoped this was the case, rather then he was out there hurt or worse.

“Yeah, he crashed on my sofa last night.” Boone said. “Then went chasing with us today, until we realized the storm was going to develop here, and not to the north like expected. Tyler kicked me out of the truck and floored it. We were about a half hour from here, but he was trying to beat the storm. He wanted to get to you and make sure you were safe. No weather stations were reporting it. We were trying to alert the stations from the van and Tyler was racing to get to you. We agreed to meet here.

You heard the worry in the teams voices as they kept working to remove debris to free you. “Is...is his truck out there?” your voice strained against the tears.

“No...it's total destruction out here, but I am not seeing his truck anywhere.” Boone said just as they flew a board to the side, opening up a space. You could see the sunset sky...and nothing else. The house was completely flattened.

“I am going now to report him missing,” Dexter said, “I am sure they are overwhelmed right now, but at least they will have him listed and more people can be looking.”

Boone helped you out and hugged you close, seeing your red swollen eyes. “You got a nasty gash on your head, let's go get it checked out.” he said softly.

“No. I want to find Ty first.” you were shaking.

“I know sweetie.” Lily took you head, “And we are going to start looking. We know the road he most likely was on. Maybe he's just broke down or got stuck. There's no cell service right now so he wouldn't be able to call. We gotta get you checked out though.”

“I want to go look for him.” your voice was filled with determination.

“We've been here for two hours. It took us almost an hour to get into town. The roads are completely covered.” Boone said. “It's getting dark and we can't see. Let's get you checked out. Lily, Dani, and Dexter will keep checking the area for any signs of Tyler or his truck. We'll ask everyone around. Once you are clear, we'll go drive the roads and look, okay?”

You nod softly and wait until Boone leads you away from the others, “I don't want the other's to know yet.” you say softly, “Actually I wanted Ty to be the first to know, but if something happens...I need someone else to know.”

“Know what?” Boone asked.

“I am pregnant. 8 weeks. Today I wanted to tell Ty since it was Father's Day. That's why we fought last night. That's why he went to your house.”

“Congratulations.” Boone pulled you into a hug, “We will have to tell the medics, let them check on the baby. I won't say anything to anyone else though. T is going to be so happy.”

You nod as the tears start falling again, “I didn't tell him I loved him yesterday. I told him I didn't care if he came back. I told him to leave.”

“Shh, it's okay.” he whispered, rubbing your shoulders, “T understands. He knew you were mad and he was hurt, but I know he forgave you. You were the first thing he thought of when that storm changed.”

You reach the ambulance and Boone explains what happened and that you were pregnant. They take you in and sit you on a stretcher and begin asking a number of questions. Finally, what seemed like hours, they put a bandage on your head and told you all looked just fine.

“Let's go find Tyler.” You almost ran from the ambulance. If the team had been there for three hours before finding you, and then you spent about an hour getting checked out..that was at least four hours that Tyler had been out there somewhere.

“Any word?” Boone asked Dexter.

“No. They've checked the hospital lists and accident reports. There is no sign of Tyler nor the truck. He's officially listed as a missing person, along with about a hundred other people. There's not much they can do now. Phones are still down so we can't be calling around checking our self.”

“I want to go look for him. See if we can find the truck or anything.”

“Let's go.” Boone said, running to the van. “I'll come too.” Lily said, “The drone mainly collects data, but we just recently put a camera and night vision on it. We'll put it up and get a bigger picture.”

“Thank you.” you whisper.

* * * * *

“Y/N...” your name was the first thing Tyler muttered, fighting against the blackness. His vision was blurry, pain coursed though his body. He slowly became aware that he was hanging upside down and it was increasingly hard to breathe. His chest was filled with pain as he gasped for air.

He couldn't remember exactly what happened, he knew there was a tornado headed for the house and he had to get to you..did he make it? “Y/N...” he called your name again. Slowly he remembered the phone ringing, then the truck flipping.

Tyler's body shook from the cold or the loss of blood. He didn't know which one anymore. If he remembered right it was middle of June, so his guess was that it wasn't that cold, even for night.

His eyes scanned the truck, trying to locate his phone. 'Gotta get out of here.' he felt like a weight was pressing against his chest, crushing his heart and lungs together. He knew it was going to kill him if he kept hanging upside down. First thing was first. He had to free the seat belt.

“Come on dammit.” he muttered, his vision going blurry and blackness fighting to take over again. Finding the buckle for the seat belt he pulled, but couldn't loosen it.

“I am so sorry baby...” Tyler muttered, wondering what you were going though right now. Were you safe? Were you missing him? Did you even know he was missing? Fighting against the unconscious threatening to over take him and gasping for air, he closed his eyes against the pain and tried one last time to get free from the seat belt.. As he gave the seat belt another hard pull, his hand brushed against a sharp object and pain shot though his stomach. The sharp object was stuck in stomach, he was guessing it was glass. He touched it for a moment, his breathing now coming in slow raspy gasps.

He could pull the glass out of him and maybe cut the seat belt before losing conscious again...but risk bleeding to death within minutes. Or he could leave the glass be and slowly suffocate from the pressure of his organs pressing against his heart and lungs. Tears streamed down his face as he slowly came to realize he was dying. Either way, he would never see you again. His thoughts shot to the box that he hoped was still in his pocket. He wondered what you would think when someone found it and handed it to you. Would the golden engagement ring that he has held on for the past two months, trying to find the right time to ask you to be his wife, be enough to make you realize how deeply he loved you. Or would he die here, and you would go on about your life and never truly understand the depth of his love. He just always thought he had more time. Tyler left his hand fall loosely, hitting against the roof of the truck as he gasped again for air. It was getting harder and harder to breath. His last thought was a prayer that you were safe, that you got to the basement in time. He knew the team would take care of you and he prayed you would find happiness with someone who loved you at least half as much as he did.

* * * * *

“I'm not seeing anything.” Lily sighed, flying her drone over the destroyed homes and along the road. “Really, he could be anywhere between here and sixty miles from here.”

“Wait!” You scream and Boone slammed on the breaks.

“What is it?”

“Skid marks.” You point to the road, where black skid marks ran from one side of the road to the other and then into the grass and...nothing.”

“Could have been there for a while.” Boone stated.

“Checking it out.” Lily moved the drone over the the forested area the tire tracks disappeared into.

“Oh my God, there's something down there!” She gasped, “It's a vehicle that's upside down. I don't know what kind or anything.”

“Call 911, it should go though even without service.” Boone yelled taking off and running.

“I am coming with you...what if it's him..” you cried.

“No Y/N. Stay. It's too risky.” Boone yelled and slid down the embankment.

“911 what is your emergency.” the operator answered.

“We need ambulance. Truck upside down over embankment.” you said, giving the road and nearest location.

“It's him! It's Tyler!” Boone yelled up and you heard the tears in his voice.

“How many occupants?” The operator asked in a monotone.

“Ty! NO!” You screamed, breaking from the hug Lily had you in and slide down the hill.

“Miss...how many people are in the truck.” the operator said.

“One.”

“Y/N no...stay back.” Boone was pulling a knife from his pocket.

“How is he?” you asked trembling. “Send help now!” you screamed at the operator on the phone.

“Miss, help is on the way. I need you to stay calm.”

“He's trapped upside down.” Boone shook his head, “I am cutting the seat belts.”

“Miss, is the person breathing?”

Boone got the belts cut and was pulling Tyler's limp body from the truck.

“Miss...I need you to answer me.” the operator's voice filled with impatience.

Not saying a word, Boone started doing compressions and you fell at Tyler's side. “No...no he's not.” you whisper into the phone.

“Do you know how to perfo....”

“Yes CPR is in progress. Just send help!” You scream at her, hearing sirens in the distance.

“Help is on the way miss. Stay on the phone with me until they arrive.”

You breathe two breaths into Tyler's lungs when Boone nods at you and he starts compressions again.

“We've got it from here. We've got it from here.” Medics were sliding down the embankment and pushing you and Boone out of the way.

They started up the AED machine and placed a bag over his face forcing air into his lungs. “Clear!” one medic yelled, and you saw Tyler's body jump with the electric shock.

You crumbled to the ground in uncontrollable sobs and Boone sits next to you, holding you tightly, tears streaming down his own face.

“Clear....” you hear them shout again.

“We got a pulse. Go Go Go.” The medics were yelling.

“I am coming.” you yell following them.

“Me too.” Boone stated.

“Sorry, only one person.” The medic called.

“Sir, she's pregnant and this is the baby's father. I need to be there for her.” Boone stated.

The medic nodded. “Get in.”

“I'll go get Dexter and Dani and will meet you there.” Lily called.

Boone nodded and sat next to you in the ambulance. You took Ty's hand in yours, noticing how limp, cold and lifeless it felt. “I love baby. I need you...our baby needs you.” you whisper though your tears.

You sat there holding Tyler's hand in yours, “I am here. I am not going anywhere.” you kept whispering. You listened to the uneven beeps of the various monitors they had hooked up. You didn't know what they meant, but the medics were talking about oxygen levels being dangerously low, irregular heartbeats, and dropping body temp.

It seemed to be hours, but you knew it was only minutes before the ambulance pulled into the emergency room entrance to the hospital.

“He's crashing again!” one of the medics yelled, “Code Blue! Code Blue.” they rushed Tyler away from you and into the hospital.

A nurse came up, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to a waiting room. “Is there anyone we can call for you?” she asked tenderly.

You shook your head, “No, our friends are on their way.”

“The doctor will be out just as soon as they know anything. If you need anything just let us know, sweetie.”

You sink down into a sofa, pulling your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs and break down in sobs. Boone sits next to you, holding you in a hug, “You got to calm down, remember the baby. This can't be good for the baby.”

“Who's here for Tyler Owens?” A nurse called.

“Here.” You stand up on wobbly legs and would have feel back down if it weren't for Boone.

“Here's his things. They're taking him back for surgery.” She handed you a small bag with a wallet and a small black box in it along with a larger bag with his clothes.

You clutch the bag to your chest and sink back into the sofa taking deep gasping breaths. For the first time the true reality of actually losing Tyler hit your chest like a ton of bricks.

“Can I have some help here?” Boone called, trying to get a nurses attention without leaving your side.

“You got to calm down.” Boone was whispered, “Remember the baby. Please calm down.”

A nurse runs up to you and takes your hand, “Miss, you're having a panic attack, come with me.”

You keep the bag clutched in your figures as the nurse leads you back to a room.

Boone buries his face in his hands and breaks down in sobs. This should have been a joyous occasion and now two of his best friends were in the hospital.

“Hey, where's Y/N?” Lilly asked as the team ran up to Boone.

“They've admitted her. Gave her a sedative to calm her down. She was having panic attacks.” He sighed.

“Any word on Tyler?” Dani asked.

Boone shook his head, “They brought out his things, said he's in surgery but that's all I know.”

“Was the ring in there?” Lily asked.

Boone nodded, “I am not sure Y/N realized what it was yet though.”

They knew about Tyler's plans to propose to you. He had showed them the ring on the first day and he had talked almost non stop about how he wanted to propose. He just couldn't settle on the perfect moment.

The four friends leaned back on the waiting room sofa with a heavy sigh. Waiting was the worst part.

* * * *

You awoke to Boone and Lily sitting by your bedside. Your eyes were still heavy with sleep as you struggled to remember what exactly had happened. Then, it all came rushing back to you at once and you cried out, “Tyler! Is he okay?” You looked desperately between Boone and Lily for some answers “Is the baby okay?”

Lily shot you a confused look, then looked over at Boone, “What baby?”

“We are still awaiting word on Tyler. It's been several hours, but last we checked he was still in surgery. We don't know anything else yet.” Boone took your hand, “Your baby is fine. They just gave you something to calm you down and help you rest a little.” Then he turned to Lily, “I wasn't suppose to tell you, but since Y/N let the cat out of the bag...Her and Tyler are expecting. He doesn't know...that's why she got upset when he went on a chase with us. It was suppose to be a special night.”

Tears rolled down your eyes, “I should never have gotten mad at him. I normally wouldn't have been so mad. I would have been hurt, but not that mad. Not to do what I did. I couldn't even say I love you. I told him I didn't care if he never came back...what if...what if those were the last words he ever hears from me?”

Lily squeezed your hand, “Hey now...you have to calm down and stop thinking like that. Hormones make you do things like that. You might be laughing one minute, crying the next and then be madder then hell...and never know why.”

Just at that moment the doctor walked in, “Well good to see your awake. How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“I am worried about my boyfriend, the baby's father.” you sob.

“I see. Well, as far as I know there's no update on him yet. You on the other hand, I am going to go ahead an release. I don't want to give you anything over the counter because too much sedatives could harm the baby. I would suggest using things like a weighted blanket, hot tea, good friends, music, or reading a book to help calm your nerves. If you have another panic attack though and are unable to calm down, you'll need to come back here.”

You nod, “Thank you doctor.”

Boone steps out of the room and Lily helps you to get up and dressed while you wait for the doctor to come back with your release papers. Once you're dressed, you pick up the bags that had Tyler's things in it, and for the first time, notice the small black box.

“What's this?” you ask, opening up the bag.

“That..” Lily whispered softly, “Is something Tyler has kept in his pocket for the last two months. He was so excited, but he just didn't know the right time or place.”

You opened up the box and saw a beautiful gold band and a sparkling diamond.

“Look at the inside of it.” Lily whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

You turn it over and read the inscription “You are my anchor in the storm”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you put the ring back in the box with shaky hands. “I can't lose him, Lily. I just can't.”

She pulls you into a hug, “It'll be okay. Ty is tough, he'll be okay.”

* * * * *

It was well into morning the next day when finally someone stepped into the waiting room. “Who's here for Tyler Owens?”

You stand up on shaky legs. The team stands with you.

“Come with me.” he motioned and the five of you step behind the swinging doors.

“He's out of surgery and in recovery. He hasn't woken up yet, but I expect him to make a full recovery. He had a collapsed lung and bleeding on the brain, both of those I believe is from him being upside down for so long. The glass that stabbed him in the stomach had caused internal bleeding and his lower left leg was broken. We've got everything repaired. He's looking at a long recovery and at least six weeks of non weight baring on the leg, but I do believe he is going to be okay.”

“Thank you doctor.” you cry. “Can I see him?”

“One of you can sit with him in recovery. Once he wakes up we'll move him to a normal room and then we can allow three at a time.”

“Go...be with him. Let us know if you need anything. We'll be right out in the waiting room.” Lily urged.

You nervously follow the doctor down the long hallway and he opens a door. Slowly you walk in, “Ty...” you whisper softly, taking a seat next to his bed and holding his hand in yours. This time his hand felt warm, tender, and strong. You allowed yourself to smile slightly. It might be a hard road ahead, but things were going to be okay. “I love you.” you whisper, kissing his hand.

“Love you too Darling.” his voice was weak, low and raspy, but he was opening those gorgeous green eyes and looking at you. “I am sorry I wasn't there. I tried.”

“Shh, it's okay. I am sorry for all the terrible things I said...”

“I forgive you. Actually, I deserved it.” he took a few deep breaths, fighting off the urge to go back to sleep. “Y/N...I need you in my life. I need you by my side. You are my world. You are...”

“your anchor in the storm?” you finish, holding up the ring box.

He smiled the biggest smile ever, “You found it!” then he frowned, “But you aren't wearing it? Does that mean...does that mean the answer is no?”

“I don't know. You haven't asked me the question yet.” you grin.

“Y/N...will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes, Tyler Owens. Yes I will marry you.” You lean over, kissing his lips softly.

“Give me that.” he takes the ring from you and slips it on your figure. “I love you with all my heart.”

“That's good to hear, because I have something I need to tell you too.”

“What's that?”

You smile, taking his hand and placing it on your stomach, “In about 7 months there's going to be a little tornado coming into this world.”

Tyler was crying, but this time it was tears of happiness as he pulled you down into a hug. “I am the happiest man on earth right now.” he sobbed. “Together, we can weather any storm. “

* * * *

The End

* * * *

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍

part 2 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - after catching your husband and best friend, you struggle with the negative thoughts that attack your mind.

warning - mentions of cheating, negative thoughts, self-hate, betrayal.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 3

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Your thoughts were running wild as tears continued rolling down your face, your lip bleeding from all the biting you were doing. You ignored the pain as your teeth dug once again into your bottom lip, you didn’t want him to hear you. You couldn’t confront him right now, your chest felt like it had been stabbed a thousand times and then someone had reached inside, gripping your heart, and squeezing.

You clutched your hands close to you as you lean forward, mouth falling open into a silent scream, tears rapidly falling before quiet sobs escape and your hands move to grip the sheets. Him fucking her kept replaying on repeat, like a broken record. Your head tilted back as you continued to cry, vision blurry as tears filled them and you stared up at the ceiling. Questions continued to intrude your mind alongside the image of them.

Why weren’t you good enough? 

Why did they do this? 

Was this the first time? 

Could you have done better to stop this from happening?

Maybe if you were prettier than her, he wouldn’t have cheated.

Your thoughts continue to attack you and you quickly pull the blanket to your mouth as you sob into it, clenching your eyes shut, more tears slipping out from the force and pain. After a few more minutes of crying, you had finally begun to calm down, only a couple more tears slipped from your eyes.

You looked down at your left hand, staring brokenly at your wedding and engagement ring. Did the vows you two spoke mean nothing to him? You played with your rings as you thought back to your wedding day, realising something you probably should’ve on the day.

You were standing there, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror. Your eyes were scanning your wedding dress with a soft smile as you felt like a princess. Your gaze snapped up as the door opened and Sarah stumbled in with a smile, her hair slightly ruffled and her lipstick smudged. She looked up at you and smiled– Looking back at it, the smile didn’t look at all friendly, it leaned more towards it being a smile someone gives you when they know something you don’t, one that seemed almost malicious. 

“Sorry, I got a bit caught up.” Sarah bit her lip, moving closer. “Oh! I ran into Johnny on the way back and he looked good. He didn’t seem like he had cold feet or anything.”

You smile, sighing happily. “Yeah?”

She nods, fixing her makeup and hair in the mirror before turning to you. “Yeah, he really seems to love you, Y/n.” When you walked down the aisle, his hair was slightly tousled, and you missed the lipstick stain hidden in the collar of his shirt. You were too blinded on your wedding day, eyes and heart filled with love and dreams. If you weren’t so blind, you would’ve seen the looks the two were giving each other. 

You blink out of the memory, realising this whole time it was before your eyes, but you were too blind. You thought Johnny had changed from what everyone knew him as, but he had just found new ways to lie. You crawl to the side of your bed and reach underneath it, pulling out a photo album filled with your wedding photos. Sitting back, you open it and begin to flick through, your eyes narrowed as you search for something, anything. You don’t know if you want to confirm your memory or not, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you continued to flick through every single photo. Analysing every little detail like your life depended on it.

You stopped, your hand slightly shaking as you stared down at one. It was a close up of you and Johnny, your eyes zeroed in on the small stain inside his collar, the colour matching awfully close to the one your best friend was wearing on the day. You flicked to another photo, your breath catching as you notice how close they are in this photo, they had been getting food and you didn’t think much of it. But now, as you stare down at the photo, you realise it wasn’t normal for them to be THAT close, with THAT look on their faces. Their fingers seemed to be brushing and your heart clenched because at this point, you were married. He CHEATED on you on your WEDDING day. He cheated with your BEST FRIEND… She betrayed you… They betrayed you.

You choke up when you remember a conversation you overheard from one of his friends.

“Damn, did you guys see the chick Johnny went home with during his bachelor party last night?!” The guy whistled as if he was imagining the woman. “She was so fucking hot! I think she’s close with Y/n? She’s that one–”

“Yeah, yeah! I know who ya talkin’ about! She’s fuckin’ fine!” Another one of his friends chimed in, “You’re tellin’ me he managed to score her before the big day?!”

“Yeah! Apparently, she’s so good, he’s gonna keep seeing her.” There was a pause. “Which should be easy for him seeing as his soon–to–be wife is close to the woman.” 

You didn’t know why you had forgotten that conversation, maybe somewhere deep down you were hoping they were talking about another Johnny, another Y/n, another wedding. It was as though your mind and heart worked together to stop you from being hurt. You wouldn’t have gone through with the wedding if you knew he fucked your best friend at his bacholer party! You would’ve been saved from the hurt from what happened afterwards. You would’ve never caught them, you would’ve never remembered her coming in after doing god knows what with him on your wedding day.

He said he loved you with a knife against your throat. All his words and promises began to feel like nothing, because that was what they were. Nothing. They never had any meaning behind them, the only person who thought they did was you. You had been fooled all this time. You wondered why he still never slept with you after your wedding night. Was he sleeping with her this whole time? You rarely saw her, so they would’ve had to meet up secretly. Was she that much better than you that it caused him to just never want to sleep with you again? Or was it in some twisted way, his way of being faithful to her, even though you held his last name? 

You hadn’t realised you had started crying again, still so softly as to not alert the man in the house. Your body began to feel weak and drained, with the last bit of energy you could muster, you slipped the photo album back into place before drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. 

You had woken up ten minutes before Sarah got back, you decided to pretend things were slightly normal for now until you could figure out what to do. You let yourself wake up before heading down to the lounge room, sitting with Johnny, you stare blankly at the game on the screen. The front door opened and from the corner of your eye, you watched as your husband became excited when he heard it. It was strange… Before you never even noticed the smallest things, now it seemed as though everything had enhanced. 

Sarah walked into the room, and you watched as her eyes landed on Johnny first before she even noticed you. You watched as her demeanour immediately changed and she flashed you a very fake smile. You returned it, even though your face was fighting against the action. It felt you weren’t even there when she sat close to your husband. You felt like an outsider in your own home, your own marriage. You watched as they acted like this was routine for them, like it was natural. You felt like you weren’t the one married to him. You didn’t know what hurt more. 

Your thoughts ran wild as the three of you sat there, watching the screen. Well, you were watching the screen… 

What were you going to do?

How were you going to get through this? 

Would this be your life if you couldn’t find anywhere to go? Couldn’t find it in yourself to leave? 

Would you one day wake to your best friend telling you she’s pregnant, but never mentioning the father. Only for you to know and watch as your husband dotes on his child with another woman. 

Would you ever find love again if you left? 

Could you even leave? 

How long were people expected to leave when they’ve found out their partner is cheating on them? Immediately? Weeks? Months? Years? 

Could you really be alone again? 

A voice in the back of your mind spoke, criticizing you, questioning you. Did you actually think you mattered to him? Silly silly girl. You mean nothing to him… Just look at them, so perfect together, like they were made for each other. You are just getting in the way. You were so stupid for not seeing it before. 

This is your own fault for being so blind. 

You were brought out of your thoughts when she stood, sneaking Johnny a look. “I’m gonna head to bed, I’m exhausted.” Her smile stretched so wide as she looked at you, reminding you of the one she gave on your wedding day. “Thank you so much for letting me stay again, Y/n. I’ve missed us being together.” Was that a double meaning behind her words? You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, only nodding with another fake smile.

You watched as your husband watched her walk away, with a look he had never looked at you with. Your heart followed with each step your best friend took. Your gaze moved back to the tv when Johnny turned his attention to you. “Do you think we should head off as well? I’m pretty beat.” He stands and stretches, not even waiting for your response as he is already heading to the bedroom.

You sit there for a minute, your mind filled only with negative thoughts, your eyes and heart heavy. 

This was your fault. You weren’t good enough. This is your fault.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[platypusundercover]

May i request something for Argenti and boothill. For each of their scenarios, theyre being reckless on behalf of others as usual and get seriously injured. Their eyes closing, believing fully that theyre going to die. Only to open their eyes again to reader gently caring for their wounds and teafully scolding them.

@dragon-anon

Thank you for the request !! Went a bit crazy with Boothill here, it's like twice the size of Argenti's... First time writing reader-insert, I don't know if it fits well with my usual style but I tried my best. I hope this meets what you were looking for ! Please let me know what you think :D

Argenti

The chase for Idrilla brought him every corner of the Galaxy, from the most beautiful of villages to the war-ravaged plains. Beauty was in life, in the seed turning into a flower and in the first cry of a newborn. For as much beauty as there was in life, and equal amount could be found in death. In the leaves falling in autumn to the sweet smile of a loved one ready to depart.

Was he ready to depart? He didn’t think so. Yet it was not his choice anymore. He reassured himself with the fact that he wouldn’t fall to the Omen of Evil. He pressed a few buttons to enter your location before sitting in the command chair of the One and Only.  He could feel the warmth of his blood coating his shirt and vest, sticky under his fingers. Yet he could only think of one thing… How he wished to see your face one last time, to witness beauty once again before dying.

When he reopened his eyes, he met a vaguely familiar ceiling. His head felt like it was filled with fog and nothing made sense around him. As his mind processed all the sensory inputs one by one, a gasp caught his attention. You were sitting beside the bed, his arm in your hands, eyes alert, although they were red and puffy as if you had been crying. He looked at you without saying a word. His emerald eyes roamed your face, your lips, you nose, your eyebrows, then stopping on your eyes.

He sighed with a gentle smile and closed his eyes again. If this was to be death, then he’d accept it. He had seen you one last time, what a blessing.

“Argenti?” You whispered, voice cracking.

He reopened his eyes and moved his head in your direction. You exhaled shakily.

“Thank the Aeons you’re alright.”

You leaned and put your elbows on your knees, his hands still in both or yours. You had just finished treating the minor cuts. You leaned your forehead against the back of his hand.

“I thought you were dead…” Your throat was tight, chest heavy with tears threatening to fall again. Freely now.

Argenti blinked.

“Am I not?”

“Of course you’re not!” You looked up, alarmed. “I found you bleeding all over your ship and I’ve been taking care of you for the past 2 hours!” The tears finally fell down your cheeks. “When I received the ping from your ship as it got close to the station, I was so happy I went out to wait for you at the docks.” You swallowed a new wave of tears. “But you didn’t come out. So, I called for you and you didn’t answer. I forced my way inside and- You- you were-” You sob. “There was blood everywhere. Never do that again. Please.”

The knight took a deep breath, your tears somehow guiding him out of the fog of his senses. The hurt in your voice pierced his heart. He can’t begin to imagine how he’d feel if he had found you in a similar position. He turned his hand to grasp yours.

“I’m so sorry.”

Boothill

Well, fuck. He was sitting in an alley after a chase with some IPC goons, and usually it was to catch his ‘breath’ and celebrate. Now though… his vision was clouded with warning messages. Oil leak, low battery, low coolant level, stuck fans, foreign object in ammo tank. He recognized only a third of them but it was pretty clear, he was not in the best shape. His eyes unfocused and refocused on loop, trying to make sense of his surrounding. He looked down, one of his legs was clearly busted, by some kind of shrapnel round. Bastards.

Another error blasted his vision, this one larger and redder than all the others. The countdown made it obvious what this one meant. He was going to shut down, and in a back alley like this, hiding behind the trash cans, the math was simple. He was going to be tossed by the garbage bots like any other piece of trash and that’ll be the end of his tale. Fucking hell. He didn’t even get close to his goal… What does that make him? What about his promise? What about his family? No one will be there to remember them now… Well, not no one. There was still you. He smiled, content with the thought of you carrying some of the tales of his home and his daughter. Aeons, he missed her so much…

His systems partially came online. He could hear first. The noise of screws and metal and fluid pumping. Then he could smell. The hot soldering iron and motor oil. The he could see. You, running around, grease on your gloves and cheeks, goggles firmly posted on your nose, completely ignoring him. So, he hadn’t been trashed. Not yet. He was held upright hovering off the ground by the port on his back, supplying his body with all the energy it needed. He tried to talk but his voice box must have been removed or disconnected because no sound escaped his mouth but a quip of static. That’s what made you turn around from the soldering iron to face him.

You removed your goggles and the look on your face would have silenced him if he was talking. You were glaring at him, clearly mad, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes swelled. You stayed silent as you went to dig into his torso once again, putting in the fan you just finished fixing. He didn’t try to move and do anything, he knew why you were mad, and didn’t want to aggravate his case.

Once it was snug into place, you retracted and closed Boothill’s chest panels, screwing them back on. The silence was heavy. You ran back to your monitor and he kept staring at you, although it didn’t garner any reaction from you.

You typed a few things and Boothill could see the telltale lines of logs of a full diagnostic running in front of his eyes. He closed them. Then he saw a list of his systems in green, all online. That must include his voice box.

“Hey Doc.” He tried, voice still recalibrating after the shutdown. “Got a bit bruised up there, huh?” He joked.

You refused to look at him as you approached to reattach his missing legs; its hinges, reconnecting the compressed air tubes for the joint, then latching the cable for the captors. Your eyebrows were scrunched together still but not in anger anymore it seemed. You turned back to your monitor, staring at it for a few second as if the recompose yourself and before you could click to start the automated joint test, he talked again.

“Thought I was going to be tossed like garbage, honest. Glad I ended up here instead.”

You pursed your lips and approached again, checking the execution of the synthetic limb as it was responding to commands to bend, flex, and turn. All seemed to be working great. You reattached the metal panels there too to cover the joints and sealed it shut, like you did for the torso a few minutes before.

“Aah c’mon, you gon’ ignore me now?” You stopped in your tracks. “I know the gear’s expensive but I’ll pay you back I sw-“

“I don’t care if it’s expensive!” You blurted out, a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.

Boothill stayed silent and as you returned to the monitor one final time, you hit a key and the mechanical arm holding him afloat lowered, gently putting the cowboy down on the ground. You lowered your head and grasped the edge of the desk with your hands, tears finally spilling over your cheeks.

“I don’t care about how much your spare pieces cost; I don’t care if you scratch the brand new panel I installed 2 weeks ago.” You explained, voice strained, finally looking up at him. “What I care about is not having you almost die on me every month or so. Why are you so reckless?” Your anger wavered. “Why do you have to disregard your own life like that? I am trying my hardest every time to make you stronger, but you always manage to find more trouble.”

You breathed deeply and looked at him in the eyes. His face was painted in remorse.

“Aeons, and then what? What happens if I’m not here to scrape you off the pavement and piece you back together, huh? Then what? That’s it?” You sobbed.

He took long strides over to you and took you in his arms, in a hug. He had always been reckless, that’s true. He couldn’t just stand by when witnessing the shit some officers would let fly. He had to do something, damnit! But he didn’t expect this to affect you so much… His heart dipped.

“I promise, I’ll be better.”

© platypusundercover - 2024 || Request rules

[lotus-n-l0ve]

SERENITY TO HIS HEART

— Mafia!Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano x Wife!Female Reader

You Will Forever Be My Always.

*⁠.✧ SYNOPSIS : The scarred past of Mikey haunts him even in his dreams, making him loose his mind. Though even through them you stay by his side. Bring him out of his misery.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : Mafia!mikey, wife!Reader, pregnant!reader, reader held at gun point, ptsd, mafia themes, angst, nightmare, 895 words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // TOKYO REVENGERS MASTERLIST

DON'T PRESS [KEEP READING] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.

The cold touch of the muzzle of the gun on your forehead woke you up with a startle. Your eyes shot open, the view of the ceiling was hazy but as you focused your vision you saw the very familiar gun pressed on your forehead. A gun that belonged to your husband, Manjiro, the leader of Toman.

You followed the pale hand holding on to the metal grip of the gun, the pointer finger resting the trigger, ready to strike any second, your eyes met his dead obsidian ones, looking at you like an injured beast does to a potential threat. The only source of light being the lamp on the nightstand didn't help either.

There he is, your husband. Sitting on your stomach, his tights had you pinned on the fluffy bed. A whisper of his name left your lips but did nothing to him. Was it one of those episodes where his past haunts him down and torments him?

“They sent you unarmed?” His empty voice cut through the tension in the room. It was more of a statement than a question, “Have I lost my touch that they thought one unarmed woman is enough to end me.”

Manjiro dragged the muzzle down your nose and lips till he hovered it over your neck, “Who sent you? Hmm? Who's your boss?”

His voice was rather calm but you couldn't miss the threat lurking underneath it. It was the same he used against his enemies. Last warning before the sword strikes.

“Manjiro, it’s me, Y/N.” Your voice shook with the fear of the trigger being pressed anytime.

You saw a silver of recognition on his face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Mikey said your name, trying to remember who it was. Rolling the name on his tongue. The name left a sweet taste in his mouth but the name did not ring any bell of familiarity.

“Y/N?” His eyebrows frowned in suspicion, “I don't know any Y/N. They sent you here to kill me, didn't they?”

You moved your head to deny but Mikey pressed the gun under your jaw, tilting your head back as a menacing grip appeared on his face, “Do they think I'm fucked in the head that I'll believe this dumb story? You think I'm delusional?”

Breath caught in your throat. Whenever Mikey was going through these episodes, you felt your heart in your throat, ready to jump out. They scared you to the core. But then you think of Mikey, your Manjiro, your husband who loves you more than life. He would rather burn the world down than see tears in your eyes. You loving husband who stood by your side in your most difficult time. All the fear in your heart evaporates.

“I'm your wife, Manjiro. Try to remember.” Even after trying to not cry, a sob left your lips, “Try to remember. I love you so much.”

“No, you don't.” The quick words sting right at your heart, “No one loves me. No one can love me. Who are you?”

Your lips trembled as you thought about the last thing to bring Mikey back to you. You lift your shaky hand and hold his left hand that was resting on the bed by your side. His grip on the gun tightened, ready to shoot and end all this hassle. But something held him back. He could not bring himself to pull the trigger.

The image of this stranger lying on his bed with a bullet pierced through her skull, eye lifeless and a stilled heart, made his heart nervous. He didn't like that. He didn't want that. Mikey let you move his hand and settle it on your tummy.

“I love you and the soul growing in me is the proof of our love Manjio. Snap out Manjiro. For me, for our baby, please.”

Mikey stayed motionless. His eyes staring down at your stomach. Unconscious Mikey spread his finger, feeling up the skin hidden underneath the white nightwear. Then it did. Something struck in his heart.

Y/N. Y/N. His lovely Y/N. The silver speck of light in his ravaged life. How could he forget you? His love, his life, his reason to live. And the innocent soul growing in your belly, was a miracle in his life.

Mikey felt tears pricking his eyes and nose burning. Wails of pain erupted from his chest as if letting all the weight off of his chest. Tears stream down Mikey’s flushed cheeks, in shame, fear and guilt but also from the sense of comfort of your presence.

You spread your arms to the side and said with your ever so gentle voice, “Come here.”

And then the dam broke. Mikey flushed himself into your arms, burying his face into your chest, the gun fell on the floor with a clunk. His whole body shook because of the crying.

You run your hand on his back with comforting strocks, “I'm not going anywhere. I love you Manjiro. I'll be right here, by your side, whenever you need me. I'm sure our little one loves their daddy too.”

Your whispers of solace soothed his wrecked heart. Mikey weeped in your protective arms, letting himself be so vulnerable the world will never see. He let your tranquil embrace bring serenity to his heart.

LIKED IT? THEN PLEASE LEAVE A LIKE, REBLOG & COMMENT. IT WOULD MEAN A LOT AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE LIKE THESE. THANK YOU ♡

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

[beah388love]

You get Lost…

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Daddy!Loki x Little!Reader

Summary: you get lost…

Warnings: crying,lost,swearing,bad language,dark room,age regression!!!(please tell me if I missed any!!!)

You was walking around the palace until you saw an entrance way you had never noticed before..

You walked through curiously and automatically got lost as you looked back and there was four other entrances.

You panicked and walked in a random direction hoping for the best.

You saw a door that looked familiar and pulled it open walking in, but when you saw it was an empty dark room you panicked and tried to leave but the door locked.

You panicked and began pulling down in the door repeatedly as you cried.

“No! Daddy?!” You screamed through a sob when you looked back at the pitch dark room.

You cornered yourself in the corner of the door and sobbed.

Trying to keep your eyes focused on the dark abyss but your tears kept blurring your vision.

“Daddy…” you choked through cries and held your heart when you began panting. You felt like you was about to have a panic attack.

You absolutely hated the dark it was one of your biggest fears.

You always slept with a nightlight or Loki would magic a soft light portray of sheep on the ceiling, as they were being counted to help you fall asleep.

So this was your worst nightmare.

———

“Where is my angel?” Loki asked one of the servants and he shook his head “I don’t know sir”

“I last saw her in the main hall” he said as he thought.

Loki nodded as he walked to the hall and looked around for you but you was nowhere to be found, he was starting to get worried.

Usually he would hear giggling or your little feet tapping on the ground but he heard nothing.

He looked around the whole palace and found nothing.

He was swearing to himself as he quickly walked through the same hall again and bumped into Thor.

“Loki..are you okay?” Thor asked when he saw lokis panicked face.

“I can’t find y/n! I’ve checked the whole palace!” Loki panicked as he ran his hand through his hair.

“I’ll help you” Thor said and they both looked around together until, Loki saw the storage room entrance and his eyes widened.

You had never been in there before…maybe you didn’t go in there?

He shook his head and walked in there anyway just in case.

And that’s when he heard it.

Your sobs.

“Fuck! Angel I’m coming!” Loki said loudly as he ran towards the door he could hear you from.

He tried to open the door but swore to himself when it didn’t open.

“Shit!” He swore as he let go of the handle

He used his magic to quickly form a key and unlocked the door, you sobbed as you looked up at him.

“Daddy!” You cried and he sighed in relief as he instantly wrapped his arms around you.

“Shh,shh…daddy’s here” he whispered into your ear softly as he stroked his hand up and down your back.

He took you out of the pitch black room and shut the door again.

“is dark-“ you cried into his neck and he kissed you on the head stroking your hair.

“It’s okay…it’s okay angel..it’s not dark anymore” Loki reassured you but you still cried, trying to catch your breath properly.

“I’m so sorry angel…” Loki said into your hair softly.

“It’s okay now…”

“No more dark” you said and he nodded

“No more dark” he repeated as your cries died down.

You hesitantly looked up from his shoulder at the light room.

You looked at him through your wet eyelashes.

Loki felt so bad when he saw your face fully.

Your cheeks and eyes were puffy from crying, eyelashes wet, eyes red and you had tear streaks down your face.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead “I’m so sorry angel..I’m so sorry” he whispered and you nodded

“I-is scary” you stammered and he nodded

“I know…you’re so brave..I’m sorry” he said and you nodded nuzzling your face back into his neck.

“Why was you down here angel?” Loki asked you and you pouted.

“Curious” you mumbled but he heard and he laughed.

“You’re my little trickster aren’t you?” He chuckled making you giggle with a nod.

“Loki? Did you find her?” Thor asked as he walked into the hall to see you in his arms on the floor.

“Is she okay?” He asked and Loki nodded.

Loki stood up with you, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you later…let’s go have some food” Loki said to Thor when he felt your stomach rumble.

[chrissv4mp]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings(!!): vulgar language, verbal abuse, controllingbf!chris, manipulativebf!chris, use of "y/n", etc.

author's note: loosely inspired by the song "1 step forward, 3 steps back" by (my fav) olivia rodrigo🫶🏼 hope u guys enjoy & please note that chris would never actually act like this & that it's just an AU!!

♡ = you

☆ = chris

nobody is permitted to steal/repost my work on other platforms, thank you.

_____________

"hello?" chris said, his voice raspy as he had just finished a twitch stream where he'd been yelling at nick 30 minutes ago.

you sighed. well, it only took 3 calls for him to pick up.

"hey, chris." you still smiled, even if he couldn't see it. maybe it was just you trying to convince yourself you enjoyed this. whatever it was.

the boy behind the phone coughed, taking a sip of his pepsi before he spoke again, "hi, ma,"

his voice softened, making your smile widen as your face flushed.

"how-- how was your day?" chris asked, not an ounce of curiosity in his tone.

could he at least try to sound convincing for once? he'd done it time and time again whenever he lied to you.

"it was fine," you sighed, staring up at the ceiling of your room.

his eyebrows furrowed in both anger and confusion, "what? y/n, c'mon don't have an attitude with me right now.

you raised an eyebrow in confusion, your voice starting to tremble as you knew exactly how this would play out, "i didn't give you an att-"

"it was fine," he tried to mimic your voice, annoyance in the sentence. "and you wonder why i'm always so fucking angry."

not a word left your mouth in response, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffed quietly before apologizing, "'m sorry,"

for what, though?

your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took, trying your best to push the tears back, "i just-- i just wanted to hear your voice before i went to bed."

chris didn't speak, instead he just sighed in disappointment, running a hand through his hair even though it'd just fall right back into place.

"well, you ruined it. maybe if you weren't such a fucking downer all the time people would actually think your fun. bye." the boy said before hanging up, not even giving you a chance to say goodnight.

your eyebrows furrowed, and the suffocating feeling in your throat finally took over as tears rolled down your face, stopping at your jawline before they fell to your collarbone.

"fuck!" you grunted, punching the mattress before chucking your phone across your room without even thinking.

your breathing began to get heavier, and you quickly began to sob, choking out cries as you cursed at yourself.

stupid, stupid, stupid. why must i be so fucking stupid?

you gripped the sheets of your bed tighter, trying to control your breathing as you shut your eyes tightly.

why cry? it's not like this hasn't happened before. you're always the bad guy in situations like this. never him.

but it's not your fault.

deep inhale, deep exhale. over and over again you did this, until your vision finally cleared and your breath was finally even.

you opened your eyes, looking around the room for your phone that you had thrown somewhere earlier.

the floor creaked as your foot hit the floorboard, walking over to your bedroom door and kneeling down to grab the device.

"shit," you muttered, turning it around to reveal multiple of cracks on the screen. your thumb went to the power button, pressing it.

"no, no, no, fuck." continuously you hit the power button, hoping that by a miracle it would turn on and all would be okay.

well, maybe this was the reason your parents told you to get a screen-protector.

maybe this is why he thinks i'm no fun. does he even think i'm pretty?

♡...

_____________

...☆

why am i like this.

chris set his phone on his desk, looking up at his monitor that was currently displaying the fortnite lobby.

his eyes move over to the other monitor, the home screen being a picture of him and you at the beach a few years ago.

a frown washes over his face and he can't help but stare at the picture a little longer, wishing he was back in that moment. he remembers every part of it.

"chris, what the fuck!" you gasped, your mouth agape as the brown-haired boy had just flung water at you.

the boy snickered as he tried, but miserably failed, to run away from you in the water.

"i'd kill him," matt laughed, sitting back on his beach towel as he watched the two of you.

chris continued to slowly run away from you, but you quickly swam towards him and splashed a ton of water at the brunette boy.

"fuck!" he gasped, shivering from the cold even though he was waist deep in the ocean.

"don't be such a baby," you teased, splashing water at him once more before swimming away and onto shore.

chris followed shortly after, stumbling out of the ocean and falling onto the soft sand of the beach.

you laughed, grabbing your phone from your bag as you ran over to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder as you raised your phone camera.

"smile, baby." you said, kissing his sand-covered cheek as you took the picture.

"chris!" matt's voice erupted from down the hall, and chris turned around in his swivel chair to look at his brother.

he cocked an eyebrow, laying back in his seat as he watched matt walk into his room.

"yeah?" the younger brother asked.

"nick and i were thinking y/n should join us for a wednesday vlog. i mean, you've already hard launched her so we don't see why not properly introduce her." he gave his brother a toothy grin, leaning against the door frame and awaiting chris's answer.

his breath caught, and matt seemed to notice, tilting his head as he looked over at chris.

"you okay, chris?"

chris just nodded, blinking a few times to bring himself back to reality, "yeah, yeah. great idea, i'll call her tomorrow, i'm sure she'd be open to the idea."

if she even answers the phone.

matt nodded, smiling as he left chris's room.

the night went by quickly, and every moment up to this one, chris dreaded.

for the first time he'd be the one calling you. why'd he feel so weird? so vulnerable?

his fingers slowly typed in your number, and the first ring didn't even get to his ear before you picked up.

"chris?" your voice was softer than usual, like you were excited.

maybe it was because he was the one to call you this time.

"hey, ma. i'm sorry for yesterday i was 'js stressed," chris muttered, his voice raspy from yesterday and from the fact that he had just woken up.

your smile faded a bit, but your heart warmed at the sound of his voice actually sounding sympathetic for once. was he changing?

"it's... it's okay, i figured you probably had a long day." you smiled, this one more for him than yourself this time.

chris nodded, his heart warming at the reassurance that you had been thinking of him.

it was nothing new, he just never noticed because he was so caught up on himself.

"did-- did you need something, baby?" you asked softly, voice low as to not provoke the boy.

chris let a small smile creep onto his face, "matt had the idea to invite you in on our wednesday vlog,"

the shock on your face wasn't subtle, and you immediately smiled before saying, "wait, seriously? but i thought you wanted to keep our relationship off the media for a while?"

the boy shrugged, adjusting himself so that he held his phone with his shoulder, "well, i did kinda hard-launch you in a friday post, so i'm sure half of the world knows by now,"

your smile widened, face softening at his words.

"so why don't we show the other half how amazing my girlfriend is?" he asked, the smallest hint of excitement in his voice.

"already on my way," you replied, hearing him laugh on the other line.

"and just be warned, i have no idea what the topic is and matt and nick can get a little crazy." chris joked.

"well, whatever it is i doubt it'll be in our favour." you laughed.

_____________

the tripod was propped up in front of the triplets' island, a red glowing dot indicating it was recording.

before the introduction, chris and matt's banter was the first thing to be recorded.

"the fuck?" chris laughed, punching matt in the shoulder.

"well, welcome to our wednesday video! me and matt-- well, mainly matt --came up with the idea for today's vlog." nick explained, looking over to his brothers with a smile.

matt smiled brightly at the camera, giving a dorky thumbs up as he looked over at nick and chris.

chris cringed at both his brothers, "why are you so formal? sound like a dumbass." he snickered.

nick replied with a punch to his brothers chest, and chris made an exaggerated scream.

"kid's crying and he hasn't even heard the video idea," matt joked, and chris shoved him.

nick rolled his eyes before looking over at you, who was standing just out of the sight of the camera.

"and to spice things up a bit, we have a special guest!" he exclaimed, smiling at you.

chris nodded, "very special."

nick gestured towards you, and you took that as a que to walk into frame, waving at the camera before taking the empty seat between him and chris.

"this is y/n, chris's girlfriend!" nick said, gesturing towards you once again before you properly gave a greeting.

"hello, i'm so happy to be here!" you smiled, waving at the camera once again before chris placed a kiss on your cheek.

matt made a face, "maybe save all the lovey-dovey stuff for after the video?"

chris wrapped a hand around your waist before slapping matts arm, "okay mr. i get no bitches."

matt rolled his eyes before turning to the camera again, "so, the inspiration for this video was literally just me and my brothers building lego sets."

"you're speaking as if you're telling a story--" chris started but was quickly interrupted by nicks scream of annoyance.

"do we need the tape again?" he groaned, and chris laughed quietly.

"anyway... as i was saying, me and nick went to target the other day and chris reminded us we needed paper plates, so while we were in the aisle we saw some red solo cups," he explained, looking over at nick who had a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

"so... we're gonna play cup pong!" matt exclaimed like a child, looking over at you and chris.

you smiled, "i'm the best at cup pong,"

nick raised an eyebrow, "well, let's see."

"we're gonna have teams, so that's why we wanted to get y/n into today's video. chris, it looks like you might have an advantage..." matt sighed, "he's the worst at cup pong."

nick hummed in agreement, and chris just rolled his eyes out of fake annoyance, "loser alos has to drink a shot of hot sauce."

your lips upturned into a smirk again, crossing your arms over one another in front of your chest, "alright, then."

_____________

chris groaned as he slammed his fist down onto the island, watching as the orange ping-pong ball bounced off of it.

"better prepare yourself for that hot sauce, chris." matt laughed, throwing the ping-pong ball and landing it inside of a cup.

nick and matt high-fived as they cheered for each other.

it was your turn, you grabbed the ping-pong ball and aimed for a cup, squinting your eyes.

"c'mon, baby, you got this." chris encouraged, his voice low.

you bounced the ball, and it jumped into the cup right before bouncing back out, "this game is rigged, what the fuck?!"

chris dragged his hands down his face in disappointment, walking away from the camera for a few seconds before stepping back into frame.

"ooh! well, you know what that means.." nick laughed, looking over at chris who just growled under his breath.

chris balled his hands into fists, and matt watched his body language change.

"nick, stop the camera." he muttered, nudging his older brother as he pointed to chris.

chris saw and he raised his voice, "the fuck are you pointing at?"

nick didn't move, his eyes trained on chris as the younger boy moved back to the island.

"nick! turn the fucking camera off." matt said, this time louder.

your eyes widened as chris approached the island, knocking all the cups down as they fell to the floor.

"fuck this stupid fucking game!" he yelled, going over to matt and nicks side before throwing all the cups down.

you backed away from the island, eyes widening as your breathing hitched.

"y/n, i can take you home." matt offered, but chris quickly took the keys from the kitchen counter, stomping over to you and roughly grabbing your hand.

"chris, what the fuck?" nick yelled, finally getting over to the camera and turning it off.

"chris!" matt called, but the younger boy just dragged you out of the house and into the mini van.

he slammed the car door, jamming the keys into the ignition before pulling out of their driveway.

"chris," you muttered, and all the boy did was grumble to himself.

"baby, i'm scared." your voice trembled as you held back tears, your eyes focused on chris.

the boy scoffed, looking over at you with wide eyes, "the fuck are you scared for?"

you didn't answer him, feeling the car speed up as his anger grew.

"fucking answer me, y/n!" he yelled, eyes trained on the road as he punched the steering wheel.

you jumped, tears gathering in your eyes as you muttered, "nothing, nevermind."

chris groaned, and then the car fell silent.

the drive to your wasn't far, and chris's anger was quickly rising with every passing second.

he couldn't handle it anymore. he stopped the car just a few blocks from your house, parking on the side of the road for just a minute.

"get out, y/n." he muttered, not caring to even look your way.

you raised an eyebrow, "what?"

he exhaled shakily, gripping on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

"you heard me loud and clear. get out of the car. now." he said again, looking out of his window.

you didn't move, not even unbuckling your seatbelt, "chris, my house is just a few more blocks--"

"get the fuck out!" he yelled, finally turning to look at you with wide eyes.

the tears finally fell down your face as fear filled your entire being, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the passenger door.

chris fell back against his seat, head leaning against the headrest as he began to drive away. fast.

you sobbed as you made your way down the sidewalk, keeping your head down the entire way back to your house.

why was he so cruel?

as you approached your house, you remembered the last time he had dropped you off here.

"i love you," he smiled, leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"i love you, too, baby." you muttered before pulling away and getting out of the car.

chris did, too, following by your side as you walked up the porch.

you giggled, "what's up?"

he just shrugged, stopping behind you as you got to the front door, "just wanted to walk you to the door. needed to make sure you're safe."

"why wouldn't i be safe? what, did you expect me to get kidnapped on the second step i took?" you joked, and ge just nodded nonchalantly.

"my exact thoughts!"

you nudged his shoulder, kissing him on the cheek before entering your house.

the things you would do to experience that again.

but until then it'll always just be this, chris flipping from good to bad.

it's always 1 step forward, and 3 steps back.

. . .

tags: @mattsbbg @55sturn @mayhem-72 @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @lanixsturniolo @niicksposts @mattsneezing @stingerayyy2 @sturn-wrld @chrissturnswife

[urfavlarry]

Alastor x insomniac!reader

A/N: this one is a bit short since i didn’t really have ideas to make this longer but I think it turned out pretty well! and reader is gender neutral<3

warnings: swearing,mentions of abuse, reader having nightmares, bad grammar

genre: slight angst but mostly fluff :3

summary: reader had nightmares and goes for a walk to the hotels library not many residents know of! And you just happen to come across the radio demon himself

3rd person POV

You stir in your sleep, you’ve been trying to fall asleep for 4 hours now and its currently 3am. You groan and turn towards the clock beside you on the bedside table. You close your eyes and you finally drift off into a slumber.

You wake up in a home, your home from when you were alive. You sit up from the floor you were sitting down and look down. You were a human again and you were sitting in the bathroom. You suddenly hear yelling and banging and you quickly open the bathroom door and run down the stairs, running down the hall to the kitchen. Your eyes widen as you see your father and mother yelling and you back up towards the wall. Your father notices you and starts screaming foul things at you and you try to get out of the room but he grabs a fist full of your hair and pushes you into the kitchen. You curl up into a ball and cry to yourself when you suddenly jolt awake, tears streaming down your face. “Fuck..” You choke out and quickly wipe your tears as you sob and bring your knees to your chest. You look at the time and only 17 minutes passed from when you last fell asleep. You sigh and swing your legs from the bed and go grab some socks. You put them on and leave your room and lock it behind you, putting the keys into your pjs pocket.

You walk down the hall to the elavator and go up to the highest floor where the library is. You’ve never really seen anyone go up there other then Charlie when she brings new books that she things you would be interested in. So it was your quiet spot for when you had a lot on your mind and wanted some time for yourself. You feel the elavator stop so you walk down the dark hallway and open the library doors. They were old and had beautiful rose carvings in it with golden touches here and there. You smile softly at the sight as you walk into the library but your smile drops when you see someone had turned on the light. “Someone is here.” You think to yourself and sigh in annoyance but walk on the old red carpet that was on the library’s floor. The library was big, the center was in a circle shape and had two long halls filled with bookshelves and some seating areas. In the center an old chandelier hung from the ceiling that had beautiful renaissance inspired art with more carvings of roses. It also had two floors full of every book you could think of from the living world and hell aswell.

Your vision was a bit blurry since the light only lit up the center so you quickened your pace when you suddenly saw a familiar pair of red ears. Your breath hitches and you stop and freeze in your place. No you didn’t really have a problem with Alastor but you were quite scared of him to say the least. He was a feared Overlord after all. You look away for a second and look back but you notice the pair of ears disappeared. You look around in a slight panic when you feel a presence behind you. You step back slightly and you hit someones chest and turn around im a swift movement and see the familiar sinister smile that everyone was so scared of.

“Good evening dear, what are you doing up at this ungodly hour?” Alastor asks with his usual grin, putting away the book he was reading that was now long forgotten. He straightens his suit, dusting himself off and looks back at you awaiting your answer. “I um couldn’t sleep, so I just wanted to come here to maybe pass some time.” He hums in acknowledgement and studies your figure like you were his next meal, which wouldn’t surprise you if you were. Your eyes were red and puffy from you crying and you looked quite shaken, still having the nightmare fresh in your mind. “Well I suppose I wont push you to tell me more, how about I read to you so we can pass the time together? Come along now darling I won’t take no for an answer.~” He says turning around to go grab the book he was reading and goes to sit down at one of the many seating areas in the library, expecting for you to follow behind. You sit down next to Alastor, making sure to keep your distance since you knew he was a bit.. how do you put this lightly? Bitchy, when someone invaded his personal space.

He eyes you for a second, opening his mouth to say something but decided against it and opens the book, making sure to start from the beginning so you’re not confused about anything. You listen to him closely, imagining the characters and scenes as if you were in the book yourself. You slowly start to tune him out, your eyes and head feeling heavy as you fight back a yawn. Your head starts to dip to the side and your consciousness starts to slip out of your grasp.

Alastors POV

My ears perk up, when I suddenly feel weight on my lap. I lift the book up a bit and see Y/N laying in my lap. “I guess they finally found peace in their dreams after all.” I think to myself and put the book away, playing with their soft hair. I stop myself and rethink my actions; “Why is it that I don’t mind their touch? Why am I feeling this way? I’m a feared Overlord? Am I perhaps going soft?” I think to myself and look down at the sleeping demon once again. Their soft snores echo slightly through the library and I sigh, smiling softly.

“I’ll let it slide, just this once.” I roll my eyes and pick up the book once again and continue where I left off.

3rd person POV

Charlie walks through the halls of the hotel with seversls books in her hand, Vaggie helping her out not wanting her girlfriend to struggle all by herself. They walk to the elavator and go up to the library. Vaggie raises a brow as she has never really been to this part of the hotel and walks down the hall to the old doors. They open it and walk in, noticing the light was on and see the familair deer demon from a distance. Vaggie rolls her eyes, mumbling some incoherent Spanish words Charlie doesn’t even bother trying to understand, knowing it’s probably just profanities towards Alastor.

As the walk closer they find a familiar demon laying their head on Alastors lap and Vaggie takes out her spear, ready to slit the radio demons throat when suddenly Alastor brings his pointer finger to his lisp, shushing the couple; “Shh, they’ve had a tough night, it’s best if we let the poor dear sleep the day away if they wish.” He says in a hushed tone and grins at the couple, maybe slightly glaring at the angered woman pointing a sharp spear towards him. Charlie nods and fights back her squeals and places the books down carefully in their spots, Vaggie helping her out but still glances your way just in case the sadistic Overlord tries anything. Alastor just stares right back, sometimes even making himself look a bit more terrifying with the radio dials and creepy smile, returning back to normal the moment Charlie looks his way. They leave the room shortly after and you start to wake up from the sound of doos shutting.

You groan a bit and go to sit up when you see you’re not in your room like usual and that you slept a bit too peacefully today. You look up and see the radio demon grinning up at you and you flinch back, almost falling off the coach you were sleeping on a few moments ago.

You yelp and quickly stand up to get away from the man, not wanting to face him after sleeping on him the whole night when he suddenly speaks up; “Don’t be afraid to come find me again when you have trouble sleeping my dear, i’d be more then happy to help you fall asleep once more, maybe make this a routine, hm?” Your breath slightly hitches and you just nod, speed walking away and leave the library, not wanting to be in his presence any longer than you already were.

Alastor smiles to himself, hoping you would take his offer up and that you really would make this a routine.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

This Side of The Grave

Pairing: bodyguard!John "Soap" MacTavish x upperclass!reader

Warnings: angst, sexual themes mdni (18+),

Words: 2.7k

Synopsis: After a horrible night you wake up to some interesting news...

This Side of The Grave Masterlist

title came from this poem

You really couldn't believe what you were seeing. After all those months of texts at three in the morning and late nights at a luxury penthouse, ruining your sleep for someone who you thought actually cared about you, you were pushed aside into the crowd of everyone else at the bar.

You could scream. You wanted to and maybe you did judging by the few confused looks you got from those around you but you were in a haze from drinking to really know.

All you knew was that the man who you had been speaking to for months now was making out with another girl just a couple feet away from you without a second thought. There was no shame even after he had pulled you into a quick hug just an hour ago before you lost sight of him and it didn’t seem like he would gain any either. 

Not when he pulled the girl closer to him as he deepened the kiss and not when he groped her so openly. 

She was pretty.

You were too, at least you thought you were. You had bought a new outfit, a nice expensive one that hugged your body perfectly and showed off everything that people liked. You even put extra effort into your makeup and hair just for him but he didn’t even notice.

You came here for him but he barely even looked at you.

Your throat tightened and you pushed through the crowd of people towards the bathroom. You could barely hear your friends yelling after you underneath the booming music as you tried your hardest to get away from the part of the bar where your now ex-not-boyfriend was sucking the face off of a random girl. 

The moment you entered the bathroom you found yourself clinging to the wall while your vision went blurry. You swayed in place, your eyes on the dirty linoleum as the music went muffled and you fought back tears.

“What are you doing?” One of your friends, Emma exclaimed as she grabbed your arm to keep you steady.

She stared at you with a strange expression, one that you couldn’t quite make out through the haze of alcohol while your other friends crowded around you. She held you up as she gave you an expectant look, seemingly unable to see the tears in your eyes.

“He’s making out with another girl.” You choked back a sob and she raised an eyebrow.

“Who?” 

“Her new guy,” your other friend Liz chimed in absentmindedly before she thought for a moment. “Ed? No, Charlie!”

You stared up at the ceiling to keep any of the tears from falling as Liz continued to list off names that weren’t even close to your ex-not-boyfriend. You had done your makeup perfectly and you weren’t about to let it get ruined over this even if you were incredibly upset.

You listened to Emma scour through your socials for the man and your mind wandered.

This was the third time someone had done this to you. You couldn’t exactly call it cheating since you were never in a relationship with any of them to begin with but that didn’t make it hurt any less when they would completely toss you to the side as if you were just an old toy that had lost its newness.

Was your choice in men really that bad? No, they were all good men, rich and dressed well with big family names. 

You must’ve been the problem.

Where did you go wrong? There must’ve been something that you did to push him away. Even if you weren’t dating you had hoped that he would eventually ask or that he would just stay, especially because you thought you were the cool, nonchalant girl that he wanted.

Apparently not.

“Oh,” Emma scoffed as her nose curled up when she pulled up socials on her phone. “I thought you were done with him months ago.”

“No,” you sniffled. “He was perfect.”

“Apparently not.”

You sent her a look but she just shrugged and Liz nodded along. You frowned and tried not to replay the image of him and the other girl while you fought back tears. 

He was completely interested in her. He didn’t even kiss you like that when you were together. Why couldn’t he do that to you? Did you not deserve that kind of treatment?

“Look,” Emma turned to the bathroom mirror and studied her makeup. “He’s not worth it, love. You were having so much fun before you saw him with another girl, don’t let him ruin that.”

“Plus he really wasn't that good looking,” Liz added. “I mean, slicked back hair that long?”

You sighed. They were both right. 

Hiding in the bathroom definitely wasn’t as fun and as much you wanted to just wallow in your heartbreak you couldn’t do that to your friends. Even if you got dressed up for him, you were still having fun before he showed up and before you found out he was seeing another girl.

A spark of spitefulness ran through you and you wiped away any tears left.

Why wallow when you could have the most fun you’ve had without him? You could show him what he was missing out on while drinking away your sorrows and partying the night away with your friends.

It was the perfect revenge and you knew he’d see how much fun you were having especially when you posted about it to your socials. You were giddy just thinking about what he’d think and you hoped that maybe deep down he’d be crawling back to you, begging on his knees.

You turned around to the mirror with a determined look in your eye and you made sure your makeup wasn’t ruined.

“Let’s fuck up the town tonight.” You declared and your friends cheered as they followed you out of the bathroom. 

The lights and music blared. Despite your current state you felt like you could take on the world as you marched out of the bar towards another one with a couple of your friends behind you. 

~

Johnny sat alone in his apartment with an ice pack on his forehead and the TV volume down low. He clenched his jaw as sharp pain resonated throughout his head and he pressed the ice pack firmly onto his head while he bit back a groan.

The medicine should be kicking in soon, at least, he hoped it would or else he’d be stuck with a massive headache and an even more sour mood than he was already in. 

He should’ve known that he was going to get one. The signs were there the entire day but he had stubbornly ignored them in favor of staying positive about finally sharing drinks with the 141. Now he was facing the consequences of a long and painful night alone in his small flat. 

He could be elsewhere right now. He could be still out drinking with Simon or Kyle, he’d be tearing up the town and getting pissed drunk having the time of his life. He’d be enjoying his night, not wishing it would be over.

Johnny tried not to let it get to him. He’d lost count of how many times he had spiraled into a depressive anger and he really didn’t want to have it happen again after having a good time.

It had been a couple months since he’d seen the 141.

They were busy, he knew that all too well, but it was strange being on the other side of it. He didn't realize the pain of waiting and hoping to hear something from any one of them, wondering if they were dead or alive, while he went about his day as a regular civilian. 

Now he really understood why any attempts at relationships failed.

Regardless of the wait however, he couldn’t have been happier that they wanted to get a couple drinks with him when they had gotten back.

“Still haven’t gotten rid of the hawk.” Kyle pointed out with a teasing smile.

“How else are ya gonna recognize me?” Johnny ran his hand through his mohawk. “It’s my look!”

“If the COs in the SAS couldn’t get him to get rid of it, you certainly won’t Kyle.” Price joined in and he snickered. 

The four of them sat at a corner table in a pub, one that bustled with activity but felt like home to Johnny. He had lost track of how long they had been sitting there but judging by the empty pints sitting around the table it had to have been a couple hours or so.

Most of the time was spent catching up. He was grateful that they didn’t keep him out of the loop of what current assignments they were working on even when he was retired from the force. For a moment, he could forget about what happened, he could forget that he wasn’t with them and just live vicariously through the details they told him and pretend he had been on the mission with them too. 

Reality came back to him when it was time to leave. 

One by one they all said their goodbyes with a quick hug or a couple pats on the shoulder. 

Price pulled him into a firm hug pull he pulled away and placed a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes stared into his soul with a sad look that crushed Johnny deep down.

“See you around, Cap.” Johnny gave him a smile, one that was meant to help his old captain feel better.

Price nodded and squeezed his shoulder before he set off into the night, leaving Johnny by himself.

Johnny sat up and set the ice pack down. He didn’t want to think about the ending of the night right now, not after having to sit through hours of pain and a borderline depressive episode.

He looked at the time and saw that it was far too late for him to be awake. He let out a heavy sigh as he got up and began to go through his routine for the night, completely ignoring the mess that was his flat.

He had to be up early tomorrow for his job and he didn’t want to miss out on the current one he’d been hired for. 

The new client had started out like his usual ones. A rich old man coming in for some sort of security of bodyguarding like many elites who had nothing else to do with their money who thought they were important enough to have enemies who would want them dead. 

He was prepared to be hired for just a couple days for a conference but when the man asked about full-time personal bodyguard work he found himself staring at the older man with the same suspicion he used to have in the task force.

He was even more surprised when he was told that he wouldn’t be protecting him but his daughter instead.

Johnny would’ve questioned if he was allowed and if he had the money in his bank account to do so. Once he was paid he might, depending on how strange the whole job would end up being for the couple of months he was hired for.

At least he’d be out of his flat for a while. He hoped that maybe it’d give him the same feeling he used to get when he was gone for months at a time, off in another country doing the dirty work for civilians.

He laid down in bed and stared up at the ceiling. The pain had subsided to a dull ache and he raised his finger tips to his left temple. 

He traced the scar carefully, feeling where his skin had been burned from the bullet and where it had entered. The skin had only just now flattened to where it was barely noticeable that there was a scar there but it didn’t really matter to him. It would be there forever, a reminder of his current condition and the cause of his early retirement. 

Johnny huffed and his hand fell to his side. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his side. 

He just hoped the job would be an easy one.

~

Johnny should’ve known from the amount that he was getting paid that he was dealing with the one percent.

He stood in front of your house just outside the front gate that separated the front yard from the street. He was in a mix of awe and contempt as he stared at what he guessed to be a two story home that looked recently renovated. Even the landscaping outside looked perfectly manicured to the point that he wondered if the grass was even real. 

“Steamin’ fuckin’ Jesus…” He scoffed to himself as he glanced back down at his phone to make sure he was at the right address.

Sure enough he was. 

Oh to be born to a rich family. He would never be able to afford a house as nice as this one. Even with his old job he couldn’t afford anything more than a small flat that was way overpriced for what it offered. 

Simon wouldn’t believe it when he told him.

He had to calm himself down before he opened the fare and walked to the front door. As much as he wanted to turn around and refuse to work for someone who he knew would be completely out of touch with reality, he needed the pay. All he had to do was his job and stick to the shadows, something that he was incredibly familiar with considering his background.

Johnny knocked a couple times on the door and rang the doorbell. He waited for a few minutes, shifting the weight of his duffle bags on his shoulders and studied the house more.

When no one answered he rang the doorbell again.

And again. 

And again.

He wasn’t sure how long he had stood out there waiting but it was enough for his knee to start aching and he was close to calling his employer. He nearly did and just as he went to the man’s contact in his phone the door opened.

Johnny’s eyes widened when he saw you. 

You were young and definitely around his age. He expected the man’s daughter to be someone older considering how old he looked but here you were standing in front of him looking…a little worse for wear.

You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed and had the worst night in your life. Some of your makeup was smudged and your clothes looked rustled in a way that made it seem like you had slept in them.

His eyebrows knitted together as you struggled to keep your eyes open and you swayed in place, having to hold onto the door in order to stand up straight. You looked as if you were about to fall over and throw up at the same time which despite his feelings about the whole situation, made him a little worried.

“Who are you?” You wondered, your voice hoarse as you looked him up and down with confusion. “Did we…meet each other last night?”

Johnny looked at you with more confusion as he shook his head.

“No, we haven’t met.” He said which only made you scrutinize him more.

“So…why are you here?” You asked shortly, looking annoyed as you gripped the door.

He wasn’t sure if you were joking with him or if you genuinely didn’t know. His stomach churned and he couldn’t help but feel a tad weird that he was standing in front of your house now. He was a total stranger to you and he was carrying duffle bags.

He was sure that your father was supposed to tell you about this.

There was no way to beat around the bush but he wasn’t sure how well this was going to go considering you didn’t seem like you were in the best mood or physical state at the moment. 

He hoped that this was just a once off thing but in hindsight, he should’ve known that this was going to be a long couple of months.

“I’m your personal bodyguard, John MacTavish.”

link to part 2

A/N: hope you guys like. I'm slowly starting to get back into writing so let's hope this will get me into it. Tags are open for now

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

warning ! Angst !

PART 1

A Vidyadhara's most telling and distinctive feature is their pointed, sharp ears. A long-lived species, Vidyadhara molt after living for six or seven hundred years, repairing their bodies then hatching anew from pearl-like eggs with their memories wiped.

That is, if they do return to Scalegorge Waterscape for the self reincarnating process.

What if...they remain dormant for who knows how long ?

Everything was dark. She couldn't see anything. It was cold, like she was submerged in a sea of ice, all alone, without warmth or light to guide her through.

Then...she opened her eyes, to see...a glimmer of light, distant from her. Her memories, perhaps ?

Her earliest memory...was the voice of a young boy calling out to his aide.

"She hatched !" the young boy called out.

"Young Master, it's not wise to..." an older voice said, stopping midsentence. "She's...she has horns and a tail as well...?"

In that blurry light, she saw two figures hovering over her, so close yet so far...a young boy with...long dark hair and sticks on his head, and an old man with greying hair and red clothes. They seemed...awfully familiar...

"Can you hear me ? You're my sister now !" the young boy said happily, though she understood not of what he meant by that.

"Young master !" the old man chided, sighing with a soft laugh leaving his tired lips.

Then...it was dark again...

"My Lady ! You mustn't !" a voice of an older woman called out.

The figure was blurry too. But she had a sense of warmness flooding her. This sense of...safeness and...familiarity. Though she couldn't see the woman's face, she knows she knew this woman.

"What would your brother say if he saw you ?" the older woman chided, coming closer to that source of blurry sight. The woman was much taller than her, as she had to look up to see the blurred out face of the older woman.

"He wouldn't say anything ! He would just laugh and say 'oh, just leave her be. She's just having a little fun'." her own young voice said.

Then...it was dark again.

"Please Dan Feng ! You must do it. We cant leave him to die ! Not like this ! Please, take my bone marrow !" a familiar female voice sobbed.

"We cant leave him to die. Not when it was our fault to begin with !"

It was her own voice.

And as she opened her eyes again, it was much clearer than any other visions she had earlier. But it was the worst she could've hoped to see. A man...with white hair...down on the ground before her as she kneeled. A man next to her with dark hair and horns on his head. Tears were streaming down his teal eyes as he looked at her.

"I..." he whispered. He looked sorrowfully at the body of the man before them, growing lifeless as they spoke. Then he nodded.

"I understand. For you, I shall endure all punishments." the man, Dan Feng replied.

"Please...when I reincarnate, give me this jade pendant. It shall remind me of who I was and who to find..." she said.

A horrible pain tore through the back of the woman in the void, as she screamed in agony and suffering. The woman in the void screamed as she curled up in that void, shutting her eyes tight. The pain...was unbearable. The feeling of talons digging into her, pulling out a large chunk from her, made her want to choke and cry.

But the suffering and guilt in her heart was enough to overpower any pain of giving up, shoving it back to the depths of her mind. The pain of losing a loved one due to their stubbornness.

And a warm feeling engulfed her hand.

"(Y/n)..." a distorted voice called from afar.

(Y/n) ? Is that her name ?

"(Y/n)...wake up..." the voice called out again.

"This is all just a dream. Wake up."

And as she opened her eyes once again, her vision was fully clear, as she was staring up at a ceiling. Her (e/c) eyes were wide as she panted, trying to calm down her erratic heart. She felt no pain in her back anymore, but it felt...so real.

But she didn't know this place. And...she was laying down, facing the unfamiliar ceiling. Beneath her...it was soft and cold...

"Dan Jia...?" a familiar voice called out. "Can you hear me...? Are you really...awake...?

The woman instinctively turned to the voice, and as she had suspected, the warmth engulfing her hand was none other than another human. Another human who held her hand from the corner of the casing her body was rested in. A casing full of blue flowers, acting as a mattress for her body.

A man with long and messy white hair...and such...warm honey gold eyes...a deep and suave voice full of gentleness at times and fierceness at some.

The lion...she had registered him in her memories.

"Jing Yuan..." the woman softly whispered, her voice hoarse from years and decades and centuries of unuse.

Though that name was familiar to her, that name wasn't her.

"I'm...not Dan Jia. I'm (Y/n)..."

Yet another one from his memories had changed their identity.

Jing Yuan looked at her, blinking a little in shock. His mouth was left agape, unknowing how to respond to what she said. But he gathered himself back, and smiled at her warmly.

"Yes, my mistake. Good morning, (Y/n)..."

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 10

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, swearing, hospital, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt. 9

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

“Moony, have you eaten yet?” Her dark head pokes around the corner, framed by the untidy soft curls that he’d always longed to push back from her face. “It’s nearly three.”

He rests his burning eyes on his hands, groaning. “It is?”

She perches on the edge of his desk and leans forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it is. Did you have lunch?”

Remus grimaces. “Forgot.”

Amberly sighs. “You need to eat, love.”

Her hands find their familiar spot in his hair and he pulls her into him by the waist, savoring the smell of lavender that’s imbued in her clothes and skin. “Thanks for checking on me.”

She nuzzles into his shoulder. “Of course.”

She was so warm. She’d always been warm, everything from those chocolate-colored eyes to her pale, gentle hands that had always been able to soothe his scars and wounds and fears. Her smile melted him like spring sunlight on stubborn snow.

Amberly stroked the back of his head. “It’s okay, Moony.”

He chucked a piece of crumpled paper across the room, fists clenched. “I should have gotten better than that”-

“You did the best you could, right? It’s not like you didn’t try.” Her big brown eyes are wide with concern.

“It wasn’t enough,” he spits, chest heaving. “I wasn’t enough.”

Amberly touches his shoulder and he collapses next to her on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. “You’re always enough, Remus. No matter what.”

A sob shakes his shoulders and he clings to her, tears soaking her jumper, as her fingers card through his hair. 

Icy tears are soaking Remus’ ears and pillow.

He’s been staring at the same blue-washed ceiling for hours now, unable to move or sleep or think anything other than the same four words that have been repeating mindlessly in his brain all day.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

If Amberly were here right now, she’d use her thumb to wipe his tears away and kiss the spots where they had been. She’d snuggle right up next to him and rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d wake during the night to find her in the exact same position, clinging to him with her soft curls draped over her face. 

Once, Sirius had joked that sleeping with Amberly when she stayed the night must be like sleeping with a very large and very affectionate Venus flytrap. Remus had laughed as warmth flooded his bones and Amberly blushed next to him.

Now he doesn’t think she’ll ever look at him, much less hug him, again.

If she’s even here at all-

The thought hits him like a punch in the gut and he doubles up as a raw sob rends his chest in half. 

No more holding hands on the way to the bakery in the mornings. No more sleepy cuddles on the battered living room couch. No more back and neck rubs by the light of the fireplace in the evening. No more random animal and math facts exchanged over lunch, or cheesy cat memes sent over text at all hours of the day. 

All of that would be gone.

The added thought of and it’s all my fault wraps iron fingers of guilt around Remus’ ribs and squeezes. He buries his face in his hands as tears pour down his face, more tears than he believed possible after all the crying he’s been doing.

You did this to her. You pushed her away. Over and over again, after all she tried to do was help. You were a complete and utter prick to the one person who loved you more than she loved herself. 

Merlin, she’d do anything for me. Did do anything for me. Countless visions of keeping her waiting, of her making him his favorite food even when she was tired, of those brown eyes being exhausted and drained because of him rose to his thoughts. But always, always so warm and full of love and that he felt like he was coming home every time he saw her face.

Until now. 

Remus chokes back another sob.

The hospital gave him a room on the first floor, down the hall from Amberly. Apparently it was the “least they could do” after the state he’d been in when he saw her. He’d collapsed to his knees on the floor as the sheer force of what he’d done hit him. Sirius- who’d still been very close to punching his face in- had had to drag him out as the doctor watched impassively. 

Down the hall.

She’s just down the hall. 

His feet are on the ground before he knows it and he’s padding noiselessly down the white, blue-lit corridor. An eerie silence permeates everything. The narrow windows in front of the doors are dark and silent. No one is awake at two forty-three a.m.

Her room.

Her door.

Her bed.

Her-

Remus feels fresh tears pour down his face and he sinks onto the chair at the side of the bed. 

She’s still, so still. Her face is paler than ever against the sterile white of the hospital sheets. Her eyes are deeply shadowed, and she’s breathing so faintly that the blue quilt is hardly moving. Her hair is spread across the pillow like it’s melting into the night, barely discernible in the dimness of the room.

He takes her hand. He can’t remember the last time they held hands, not the way they’d used to. Fingers interlocked, warm and sure, the one single guarantee out of everything in this life that he’d loved and loved and loved.

Amberly stirs. 

His lips part as he turns towards her, shocked; her eyes flutter open and fix on him.

He can’t tell what she’s thinking. He can’t read her expression at all, and as he opens his mouth to croak out a I’msosorryIloveyoupleasedon’tleavemepleasepleaseplease-

“You’re not Remus.”

Her voice is soft, almost disappointed. There’s an odd note of resignation in it that strikes Remus to the core. 

He clears his throat and tries to keep the tears out of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting slightly in the bed. Her cast rustles against the covers. “He wouldn’t have come.” Her eyes close again.

Remus’ throat closes up at the note of assurance in her voice. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Amberly mumbles. “Busy. He’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” she breathes. “I think I should leave him alone. He doesn’t like when I help.” A tiny bit more alertness returns to her eyes and she gazes at him in the dark. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Remus manages to choke out. “It’s not.”

Her eyes are luminous in the dark. “It is. It’s why I have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop”- Her voice is getting breathy and quiet as she sinks back down into sleep. “Stop caring.”

Then she’s asleep again and tears pour down Remus’ face as her hands goes limp and slowly, slowly slides away from his. 

[undercover-marshmallow]

For a few moments, all Adam could do was stare numbly as the crimson liquid traced a thin line down the side of his finger, forming small droplets on the edge of his knuckle.

Was that... blood? his brain wondered. 

Not knowing what else to do, he licked it. Yep, definitely blood. But whose blood? Where did it come from? He was the only one in the kitchen, and he would have noticed if someone had started to bleed all over him.

So where did it...

The realisation hit him like a hammer to the gut. He felt his legs give way under him and next thing he knew he was on the floor, his bleeding finger still held up as if he was pointing an accusation at the sky.

Red blood. He knew what that meant. Everyone did. Angels' blood was golden, hellspawn bled black, and red was for - red was for - 

'Demons'. The word echoed through his mind like a wicked laugh. 

Adam suddenly felt old.

Just how many millennia had it been since Eden? Could he even remember? He scrunched up his eyes tight in concentration but he knew it was useless. He'd given up counting long ago. 

How many of those years had been spent killing, he wondered. How many lives had ended at the edge of his blade? How much blood had he spilled? Sinners' blood. Red blood. Red like his.

He was one of them now. The first human, the once-proud leader of one of the mightiest  forces in Heaven, was now just another cursed soul in a land bursting with them.

"Dammit!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the side of the counter he was sitting against.

The counter shook, there was a hum of something rolling across the top, and then with a thud it landed neatly in Adam's lap. It was a single, bright red apple.

Adam felt a smile begin to creep across his face and then, unable to help himself, he burst out laughing.

"Oh I see, is that how it is?" he said to the empty room.

With a grunt he pushed himself back up to his feet and waved the apple to the sky.

"Let me guess," he said, still laughing so hard his sides were beginning to hurt. "This is another one of your tests, huh?" 

He was in absolute hysterics now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and blurring his vision.

"Just another test, right? This is some cryptic vision, or prophecy of the future, or... or part of your big, cosmic plan, that totally exists."

The laughter died down as suddenly as it arrived. In its place came anger, an anger so hot that it threatened to burn Adam from the inside out. 

"Well you know what?" he hissed. "I am done playing your stupid fucking games."

He glared up at the ceiling, as if his anger was enough to pierce the heavens above.

"I did everything you asked, didn't I? I followed your rules, I looked after the garden, I did what you told me to."

A dam had been burst and now there was no stopping the words that raged out Adam's mouth. 

"And don't bring up that fucking tree, you manipulative piece of shit. You knew we'd eat it eventually, didn't you? You don't dangle something like that in front of your kids and expect them not to try. No, you knew exactly what you were doing!"

He hurled the apple he was still holding against the wall as hard as he could, and grunted in satisfaction as it exploded in a pulpy mess.

"Oh but that wasn't enough for you was it, you sick freak? You then had to go and act all high and mighty, like you hadn't planned all of this from the beginning. You took everything from me, do you hear? Fucking everything!

"You took Lilith, you took Eve, you took our home, you even took my fucking kids! What else could you possibly want with me, huh? What else do I have to lose before it's enough?"

Silence.

"Well?" he yelled. "What's the matter? You too scared to even look me in the eye, you chickenshit?"

Silence.

"Answer me, you coward!"

Silence.

Adam fell to his knees once more and buried his head in his hands. Before long, the sound of muffled sobs could be heard through his fingers.

"Please," he begged. "Please, just tell me what you want. That's all I'm asking. Just tell me what I have to do."

Silence.

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Inspired by this comic by @rius-cave