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awkness · 2 days

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Serial killer!Platonic!Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 1)

(Part 2 coming soon)

You don't have the best home life. With your father being a violent drunk and your mother out of the picture, there's little to love about your home. The only silver lining is your older brother, Ben, who's practically raised and protected you your whole life and makes living in this household easier.

But in a surprising turn of events, your father is declared missing, and Ben is granted temporary custody of you. As time passes, you grow more concerned with the circumstances of your father's "disappearance", Ben's behavior, and just how safe you are in your own home.

Content Warnings: murder, gore, isolation, manipulation, physical violence, briefly mentioned child abuse, child endangerment, and general yandere shenanigans. If there's anything I forgot to list here, let me know :3

Authors note: first time posting my writing, hope you like this! This is a bit of a slow burn and features a slightly amoral!Reader. Readers age is left ambiguous

You'd like to think you were good at sneaking around the house. Years of having to creep around at night as your father slept had taught you a lot about the right way to hold yourself, which floor boards to avoid, how to open doors so that they didn't make noise. Tiny bits of knowledge and skill that all seemed to have been in preparation for this moment.

There's a full moon tonight, and you can see it shine through the curtains on the back door window, the only light in the house. Socked feet carefully move through the kitchen floor as your heart rate picks up. Your shoulders slowly hunch in on yourself as you close in on the door.

You haven't felt terror like this before. It's so much different from the horror movies you used to stay up late and watch as a child, or even the fear you felt when your father came home from his business trips. This was different. It twisted your stomach into nauseating knots and sent your heart up to your throat, making its terrified, rapid beating the only thing you could hear. You were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything around you had this strange and distant quality to it, like the whole world had shrunk down to only two things: the backyard door, and your brother.

Was he still looking upstairs? There hadn't been any noises from there in a while. Now that you thought about it, you haven't heard anything in a while. The thought causes tears to start to form in your eyes, and you swallow hard and try to blink them away. Not now. Not until you're out.

Clammy hands grasp the cold metal of the doorknob, and you almost let out a sob in relief. Shaky, you begin to undo the lock, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet house. You cringe as the door opens and lets out a long, loud creak, breaking whatever illusion of stealth you had.

Distantly, you recall a memory of you complaining about the noise to Ben. He had told you that he wasn't going to fix it, that it was better to keep it that way, just in case anyone tried to break in, he would hear it. You wonder if he ever thought about someone trying to break out.

"(Y/N.)"

For a brief, horrible moment, everything stops. Your mind, your lungs, your heart, they all seize up in fear at your name. You were never supposed to be afraid of his voice.

Your lungs squeeze painfully, and you take in a sharp breath, chest heaving. Legs tense, instincts desperately urging you to leave, but your mind kept you rooted to the spot, running through the scenario in your head. Even if you sprinted now, full speed, you would have to stop to undo the latch at the gate to leave the backyard. It would only take a few seconds, and that might be enough for Ben to catch up to you.

"(Y/N), look at me."

If it were anyone else, you would have bolted by now, legs tearing across the lawn as you made your escape. But it was him. Your brother, the same man who cooked your dinner, who helped you do your homework when you didn't know what you were doing, and would then help you cheat when he couldn't figure it out, either. The same voice that would tease you, scold you, nag you, and encourage you, and now kept you from leaving. Against your will, you turned around.

He was standing in the kitchen entrance, bathed in shadow. You could barely see his bruised face, the moonlight only outlining his features just enough for you to see the crazed, panicked look in his eyes, and his chest heaving like he was the one being chased and not you. If you hadn't seen it when you stumbled upon him in the basement just ten minutes prior, you could have missed the blood on his shirt.

But you hadn't, and it was all you could stare at.

For a moment, it's all you do. He stares at you, while you stare at the blood between you two, not a sound to be heard as you both stand, as if under a spell.

He finally breaks the silence.

"Close the door."

You look up to meet his eyes, and the brief act is enough to snap you back to your senses.

You run.

By all means, you tried your best, you really did. But whatever edge that the adrenaline gave you was no match for Ben's superior speed. He was taller than you by nearly a foot and used to run track when he was in high school, of course he would catch up to you.

You were halfway to the gate when he snagged your arm. A short, abrupt shriek leaves your mouth and then his other hand covers your face, smothering any noise you were trying to make.

In one quick, fluid motion, his arm lets go of your hand and then firmly locks around you, back pressing against his chest, the same blood-covered chest you saw before, stained by the body of your poor, mutilated father in the basement you saw only minutes ago, the body hardly recognizable as he had began hacking his limbs into small, easily disposable pieces. His decapitated head lay carelessly on the floor, empty eyes that seemed to plead to you for help as you watched numbly, stricken dumb until Ben finally noticed you staring.

And now he's dragging you back. Back to the house, down the stairs, to the basement, where he'll pin you to the table and do the same thing he had done to your dad-

You lost control of yourself. There was no thought behind what you did. You thrashed and kicked like a wild animal, screams trying to rip through your muffled mouth. You struggled like you had never struggled in your life, and it meant nothing. He was almost at the back door, and you hadn't slowed him down a second. In a fleeting moment of lucidity, you think to hook your leg on the door and to try and slow him down. It works, but only for a moment. With a sharp pull, your leg gives and suddenly you're back inside, helplessly watching the back door swing close. The sound of the lock latching breaks you out of your fit, and dread sets in, stilling your body as you finally realize you can't break free.

As your breathing starts picking up, you finally hear your brother talking, who seems to have been speaking to you for a while. His voice is the same gentle, calming tone one would use on a skittish animal while trying to get them to calm down. It makes you feel ill.

"Shhhhh, it's alright (Y/N), you're fine, you're fine. I need you to relax, alright? C'mon, kid, deep breaths, just like that, you're doing good. Breathe with me."

You feel his chest move against your back as he begins to breathe deeply. The slow, rhythmic movements bringing back emotions from memories of him calming you down from previous anxiety attacks and similar situations begin taking over and give you a false sense of security. Against your better judgment, you relax, if only slightly, against him.

"There we go, that's it. Just take it easy."

And for a second you both stand like that, completely still, as the weight of everything sinks into the both of you.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to let go of you and I need you to promise me you're not going to try anything. No screaming, no running, no nothing. Is that clear?"

It takes you a second to realize he expects you to respond, and you nod quickly, hoping it doesn't seem too enthusiastic.

He sighs and lifts his hand from your mouth. When he doesn't hear your yell, and releases you from his grip, only for him to take your hand.

"This is... going to be a long talk. Let's go sit down in the living room."

Without waiting for you to acknowledge him, he drags you towards the living room, and sits down, having you take the seat next to him.

Enough moonlight peaks through the blinds for you to see Ben. He's hunched, leg bouncing a mile a minute, bruised and bloody hands clasped together, as he shifts in the seat, trying to get comfortable. You don't think there's much of a point. This isn't going to be an easy conversation, there's no point in stalling.

You're reminded of a similar conversation you two had on this couch. Years ago, he sat you down (albeit, under much less distressing circumstances) and told you how mom wasn't coming back home. That she was divorcing dad and leaving you both with him. At the time, you thought it was a little silly how nervous he was. Of course she was leaving. She hadn't been home in months, and even before that, she hadn't been involved enough for you to care about what she did. Her being out of the house for good was a relief to you. A strange stab of guilt runs through you as you remember hoping your dad would leave your life permanently, too.

Ben's leg hasn't stopped bouncing, you see he hasn't looked your way since you sat down. If he's waiting to figure out how to start the conversation, you know you'll be waiting all night, and that's the last thing you want to do. You're going to have to be the one to break the silence.

"You killed dad."

Not the most elegant opener, but it's simple and to the point, so hopefully the bluntness will make it easier for Ben to talk.

He takes a sharp breath and glances down, bouncing becoming quicker. You hate how you feel guilty for making him uncomfortable.

"Yes." He replies, "I did."

He unclasped and clapsed his hands again, and then stared into them, like they held the answers he was looking for. Time passes, and for a moment, you think you're going to have to speak again, but he beats you to the punch.

"He was drinking again. I mean, he always drinks, but it was a lot more than usual. It was the only reason I came down there. He's always making noises down there, but this time, with all the beer he was going through, I thought he finally kicked the bucket, you know? Just a crash and then nothing. So I went to check it out."

He takes a breath and shifts in his seat again, and you can only sit there and watch as he struggles through his story.

"I come down and he's on the ground and his eyes are closed, so I go to check his pulse. That's when he springs up and grabs me, starts yelling in my face about God knows what."

That part is true. You remember hearing that a couple of hours ago, but hearing dad yell is a fairly common occurrence. Common enough that the neighbors wouldn't think much of it, anyway.

"I try and get him off me but he starts hitting me. I can't get him to stop, so I start hitting back. But he wouldn't stop, he..."

He pauses for a moment, a shadow passing through his face. You don't want to interrupt him this time.

"When I realized what I was doing, he was gone."

He sighs and wipes his hand over his face, the shadow recedes and it returns to its previous anxious look.

"If I had called the police and told them what happened, they wouldn't believe me. And even if they did, they would have taken you away from me, and I..."

His face pinches in a way you've never seen before, almost like he's in pain. His eyes glisten with tears.

"I don't know what I would do if you were gone, (Y/N). I couldn't live with myself."

You look down, face heating up with a shame you don't understand.

"If I could hide his body, wait a couple of days, and report him missing, it should be fine. Not like he has any friends, and the neighbors don't care about him. They know he's a drunk who takes off for weeks on end, so it's not like him going missing this is suspicious. And while he's missing, I should be able to get custody of you. Not like there's any other relatives to take care of you. I've got a steady job, I'll be able to take care of you. It shouldn't be a problem."

You look up, and you're taken back to see him staring at you, with a sad, almost pleading look.

"I didn't want you to see that, (Y/N). You weren't supposed to be involved. I honestly thought you'd be asleep by now. I knew I should of locked the door, I should of..."

As he spirals, you start to zone out as you consider everything he's said. You know he's lying. Maybe not about everything, but there's either parts that he's purposefully leaving out or making up. Perhaps, given some time and some well thought out questions from your end, you could parse together the real story, but... did you want to?

Your father is dead. There's no fixing this. You also don't have any other relatives nearby, and the ones you do have you either haven't seen in over a decade or haven't seen at all. If your brother isn't the one taking care of you, that means you'll be put in the foster system. Considering your age, you know your chances of being adopted are slim to none, and the horror stories you've heard of other kids going through the system are enough to make you shudder. You don't know if you could make it.

Yes, he killed your father, but it's not like you ever liked the man anyway. And watching Ben dismember him was... horrific, to say the least, but you can understand it, from a logical perspective. In order to move him, it makes sense that he had to take him apart, even if he seemed a little too emotionless and callous during the whole process.

That only leaves one thing left to consider: do you think Ben will hurt you?

You stare at this grown man, this murderer, your one and only brother, as he sits in front of you, talking himself to the almost to the point of tears, trying to convince you that everything wasn't as bad as it was.

That's been your whole childhood, hasn't it?

You barely remember a time before mom left, and dad would be out most of the time, so it was Ben cooking you breakfast and walking you to the bus stop, making sure you had a lunch already packed in your bag. He would be the one to ask you how your day was, to make you dinner, and to watch whatever movies you wanted, even if he was a little too old for your shows. He would smile and play along with you, just because it made you happy. In those moments, you could pretend you had a normal, functional family, and you were grateful for him.

When dad was home, Ben was the one who made sure everything was safe. And when dad was too drunk and wandering about the house, you would sleep in his room, and if dad ever tried to get to you, Ben would put himself in between you two, protecting you at the price of a broken nose and a handful of bruises. And then when it was over, and you would go over to him and tell him how sorry you were, only for him to put on a brave face and tell you that he was fine when he was clearly not. If you insisted, he would placate you by letting you bandage him, but he would do it with a smile on his face, making little jokes as you patched him up that would have you both coming out of it with a smile.

Everything he did was to make your life easier. This isn't any different, isn't it?

You reach out and take his hand, and that's enough to stop him mid-sentence.

"It's okay, Ben. I understand."

He blinks at you owlishly, clearly not expecting you to say that.

"You do?"

The disbelief is evident in his tone, but you don't blame him for it. You can hardly believe yourself, but it's the truth.

"Yeah, I don't blame you. Besides, what's done is done, we can't change that."

You take a breath, readying yourself for what you need to ask next.

"What do you need me to do?"

This shocks him more than your previous words, and he shifts, looking visibly uncomfortable with your question.

"I don't want you to be involved-"

"But I am." You interrupt. "I know what happened, so I'm a part of it. I need to know what I need to do."

You see him swallow, and you watch his face as he slowly takes in your words, the weight of them sinking in, his face morphing from anxious to somber.

He takes his hand out of yours and puts it on your shoulder.

"The only thing you need to do right now is to go to sleep. We'll need to go over our cover story soon, but that can wait until tomorrow. It's late, and I know you're tired. I can take care of everything from here."

He squeezes your shoulder and makes a motion like he's going in for a hug, before jerking back, thinking better of it.

Instead, he looks at you, a sad, grief-stricken look on his face.

"Goodnight, (Y/N). Sleep tight."

"Goodnight." Is all you reply before he lets you go. He gets up and makes his way to the basement as you watch from your spot on the couch.

You know you both won't be able to sleep well tonight.

You stumble down the stairs, still half asleep, grumbling while trying not to trip over your own feet.

It had taken you a while for you to fall asleep, yet your body had refused to let you sleep in. As soon as the sun rose, you did as well. Unusual, given that it was summer and you always slept in, but you suppose the stress of last night and your upcoming talk with Ben wouldn't let you rest for longer than a few hours.

As you make it downstairs, you enter the kitchen. The first thing you notice is Ben, newspaper in hand, reading at the dinning room table. Or at least it looked like he was reading. After watching him for a moment, you noticed his eyes unfocused as he stared off into space.

In broad daylight, you're able to take a better look at his injuries, and it's much worse than it had seemed last night. He's got a busted lip and bloody knuckles, with several bruises across his arms. It makes your stomach twist in the familiar way seeing him hurt always does. The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent than usual. Did he stay up all night?

At least he changed his clothes. The blood from yesterday is gone, replaced by the familiar sight of him in old, ratty pajamas.

"Good morning." You say, more to announce your presence than anything else.

He jumps in his seat, newspaper crinkling in his hands, seemingly taken completely off guard by your arrival. Yeah, he definitely didn't get any sleep.

"Good morning." He finally replies a little too quickly, folding the newspaper and laying it down as he got up. "How did you sleep?"

You shrug. The banality of the question contrasted uncomfortably with its context, making you not want to linger on it. "Better than I thought I would. You?"

He awkwardly shuffles in place, obviously not having any idea what to do with himself now that he was standing, but refusing to sit back down. "Uh, couldn't get any. Was busy."

The weight of the words brought an uncomfortable lull in the conversation, and your eyes wandered as they tried not to look at his.

"Well, uh, you gotta be hungry, right? Why don't we go out to eat? I'm sure there's some restaurants still open, we can sit down to eat, or swing by that doughnut shop you like."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out, given you look like... well, that." You gesture to his injuries.

He looks momentarily confused before the realization hits him. Self-consciously, he hides his wounded knuckles behind his back and looks towards the ground.

"Breakfast at home is fine, too. My pancakes are better anyway." He says a little too tensely, the joke not quite landing right.

The next thing you know, the kitchen is alive with the sounds of cooking as he quickly whisks the ingredients together, and then begins pouring them into the pan.

You walk over to the pantry, scanning the shelves.

"We don't have any syrup."

Ben lets off a soft groan, and you wander over to the freezer.

"Well, pancakes without syrup aren't the worst, just a little dry." He grumbles, more to himself than to you.

You open the freezer, inspect its contents, and announce your discovery.

"We have ice cream."

You turn back just in time to see the questioning look he shoots you.

"Ice cream? For breakfast?"

"Well, considering the night we had, I figured we could use a little pick me up."

He sighs, and his brows furrow as his cheeks heat up, his face a strange mix of irritation and shame. Under normal circumstances, you would never be able to get away with this, but considering everything that's happened, you can imagine it won't take him too long to cave.

"Hm, well- fine. Just this once."

You nod and grab the tub of ice cream. You suppose there were a few perks to watching your brother dismember your father in front of you. Maybe later, you could ask for that game you've had your eye on...

A plate of fresh, hot pancakes is put in front of you before you can fully finish that thought, and you search in the cutlery drawer for the ice cream scoop.

"Leave the tub out for me."

"Will do." You reply.

You prepare your plate and set it down at the dining table, digging in as he finishes making his pancakes. When he finally sits next to you, you're halfway through your stack, already getting full. You watch him pick up his fork and knife, ready to cut off a piece, but instead, he just stops, eyes empty as they focused on the vanilla scoop slowly melting. Seconds tick by, and he still doesn't move, unaware of the time passing, or you watching him.

You suppose you could blame your lack of sleep on what you did next, or perhaps that innate sense of mischief that all little siblings are born with, but in your heart, you know better. Nothing could be as disturbing as watching your brother silently stew in whatever internal misery he was in.

So, without thinking, you scoop up some of the melting ice cream on your fingers and smear it on his nose.

His eyes went wide in shock and his body tensed when he realized what you had done. The rapidly melting dessert threatened to drip down his nose as he sat, and another painful moment of tension passed between you two.

Maybe that wasn't the best idea.

Before you can apologize, his face cracks into a small grin, empty eyes filling with much-needed warmth. You let out a breath as your shoulders relax, relieved at the familiar sight. He takes a small dollop of now melting ice cream from his nose and tastes it before he speaks.

"Didn't I teach you not to play with your food?"

"Not well enough, it seems." You quip back.

Then, with a mounting sense of horror, you watch him pick up a much bigger glob of ice cream off his plate as his smile turns into a devious smirk.

"I guess I was never the best role model, was I?"

Before he can smear the food over your face, you jump out of your chair and run to the opposite end of the kitchen where he gives chase. The two of you run around the house, carefree laughter filling the air, without a thought to anything that transpired the night before. Ben always had a way of making you forget your worries.

Everything after that was pretty simple. Ben talked you through the cover story and what your part would be, which basically amounted to "I was asleep when everything happened." That suited you fine, anything that minimized your time talking to the police was welcome. Ben handled most of that as well, spinning a tale about how your father was binge drinking more than usual, and then had up and left in the middle of the night. The only reason Ben hadn't stopped him was that this wasn't out of character for him to just up and leave with no car, no phone, or anything but whatever drink he had.

Which was true, it was a rather annoying habit that had your neighbors side-eyeing your family and complaining to your brother whenever they got the chance. It all seems to have worked out, though, as they provided great testimony when asked by the cops if this was unusual behavior for him.

Where the story differs from reality is that your father always managed to wander home. The way Ben tells it, he left and simply never came back. He had waited so long because he was sure that the man would return sooner or later like he always did, and didn't want to cause trouble when it wasn't necessary. Given your father's reputation, the cops believed him easily.

Soon after, your father was declared missing and your brother was appointed as a consevator on behalf of your missing father, allowing him to manage the house you lived in and pay the bills. He was also granted temporary custody of you, given that he was the only family you had in the area.

As for your home life, things were surprisingly normal.

In terms of your routine, very few things changed after those first few days. Sure, Ben often had to work late now and was more busy filling out paperwork to make sure everything was fine, legal-wise, but it had little effect on your life outside of those first few weeks. You settled back into the routine you had before: wake up late, and spend the day doing whatever you pleased. If Ben wasn't working late, you would both eat dinner before winding down and going to bed. Except now, there was no more waiting for your father coming home, or having to hide in your room and count the days before he leaves again. The peace you felt while openly sitting in the living room, with no obvious threat looming over you, was both exhilarating and disconcerting.

The neighbors seemed to act differently towards you. You would go out to pick up the mail and see them either out walking their dog or sitting on their front porch, taking in the summer sun. You would make eye contact with them and the look they gave you wasn't annoyance, or that vaguely pained look they gave when your father was being particularly loud the previous night. It was odd, some cross between pity and something you couldn't put your finger on at first until you finally connected the dots: suspicion. What if they knew, or at least suspected, that he hadn't just wandered off? Even without any clear evidence, it doesn't take a genius to see why you and your brother would want your father gone. After that, every time a person looked your way, you could feel their hidden disgust at you. They knew what you were and what you had abetted, even if they never said it out loud. Slowly, you stopped going outside, preferring to stay cooped up in the house instead.

Ben didn't mind much, even encouraging your hermit life style. But in all fairness, he didn't seem to mind much these days, always in high spirits, no matter the circumstances. The bad days were good, and the good days were amazing, especially when you both spent them together. The best day for him, though, was when he was appointed temporary custody of you.

After court, he had taken you out to a fancy restaurant in the good part of town and told you to order anything you wanted. It was the first time you held a menu that had lobster on it.

He even has a framed photo from the day hanging up in the hall, like it was some sort of celebratory adoption event, and not the day he was granted temporary custody of you because your father is missing.

But isn't it technically adoption? You know your father isn't coming back, so it only leaves Ben to take care of you. And that's a good thing, right? When you were a child, you had always fantasized about what life would be like if it was just you and your brother living in this house, no parents around. Child you would be jumping for joy, ecstatic about the turn of events. You should be happy, so why is it you can never look at the framed photo without feeling odd?

There was just one questionable development from this event, and that was your brother's habit of visiting the basement more often.

The only reason you knew was because you noticed the door was sometimes left open, and the occasional muddy footprints that would lead down into the basement. They would be cleaned up before you could see them again, leaving you wondering if you had only imagined it.

Your father... the corpse couldn't still be down there, right? What other business could he have down there?

You tried not to think about it too hard. It haunted you anyway.

One night, you had a dream. You were descending the stairs to the basement, flashlight in hand, trying to find something. As you opened the door, a pungent, rotting smell burned your nostrils. For whatever reason, your dream self had continued on, scanning the area, stopping once the frail, white light landed on a dismembered corpse.

You struggled against your dream self, trying to will them to run back up the stairs, but they continued, creeping ever closer to the foul, bloated pile of flesh, until the soles of your shoes were covered in the liquid runoff from the gore.

Suppressing a gag, you bend over, trying to get a better look at the corpse's face, only to see yourself.

That dream left you as scared as you were confused.

The stairs to the basement have always intimidated you for as long as you can remember. The lighting was poor and the stairs were worn, as if they were older then the rest of the house, letting off a creak with every step. The door itself was in bad shape, with paint pealing and a doorknob that couldn't lock half the time. The inside was bare and damp, only functioning as storage for whatever possessions your father, and now your brother, owned that they didn't mind mildewing over.

Though the fear lessened with age, you never had any reason to go down there, so you never had to fully confront it. You had mostly accepted that there was always a small, childish part of you that would be apprehensive of dirty, dark places like basements, and you were mostly fine with it. Unfortunately, recent experience had made it a full blown fear again.

Yet here you were, standing right at the edge of the stairs, debating on whether or not to go down.

You worry your lip, mentally sorting through your options.

On one hand, you had no business going down there. Ben said he would take care of it, and you trusted him, there's no reason to doubt him. But on the other hand, there was no reason for Ben to be going down there so often in the first place. If the body had been removed from the house, then what was he doing? Where was the body? Why had you never seen him enter or leave the basement? Could you just be making this up? But you know you saw the footprints going down there. And yet...

"(Y/N)?"

You startle and quickly turn around only to see your brother behind you, a nervous smile on his face.

"Everything alright?"

Your gaze lowers as you continue to bite your lip. You taste blood. You know you should quit, but a little blood has never stopped you before.

You hear a small sigh before he walks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. His attempt at being reassuring, you assume.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me, (Y/N)."

If you weren't so consumed by your anxieties and fears, perhaps you would have thought over your words before blurting them out, but that wasn't in the cards for today.

"Is dad down there?"

You still hadn't looked up, eyes glued to his feet, but you could feel the mood sour ever so slightly. Or maybe you were imagining that too.

His voice came out hushed, but earnest.

"Of course not. What makes you ask that?"

"You've been going down there a lot lately, and you never have before, I just assumed..."

Your voice had gotten quieter as you spoke until it finally died out at the end, the ridiculousness of the statement seeming obvious when you said it out loud. You were making a problem out of what, exactly? Your brother going into the basement a couple of times? Is that really all it took to make you suspicious of him? You feel a lump form in your throat.

He speaks to you, tone even, slow and reassuring, like a parent to an upset child. Your face heats up in shame.

"The water heater hasn't been working right. I've been down there trying to repair it, but I haven't been able to keep it running hot water for more than a couple days at a time, so I have to keep going down to fix it. Do you remember yesterday when you told me something was wrong with the shower?"

You easily recall a memory of yourself taking a shower, the water suddenly going cold. You had got out to go complain to Ben about it. Why hadn't you connected the dots sooner?

You nod, and he gives you an encouraging smile.

"You've had this on your mind for a while, haven't you?"

You nod again, more vigorously as the lump in your throat turns painful, and your lip begins to wobble. You tried to swallow it all down as you began to speak, voice wobbly and frail.

"I've just been so worried, all the neighbors keep giving us funny looks, and I had this dream-"

Your throat closes as you choke over your tears. Without thinking you cover your face, shoulders bunched up as you try to hide yourself. This was stupid, why couldn't you stop crying?

Warm arms wrapped around you, comforting and firm, as put your hair

"It's alright, kid, you're okay."

Without thinking, you hug him back, the comfort too tempting to resist.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't think it would be an issue. If I had known you would of been this upset, I would of told you about it before. I should of known better."

You struggle to repress your sobs as you shake your head and push away just enough to look at him.

"It's not your fault. I was being stupid, I should of said something."

He smiled and nodded, seemingly content with your answer.

"Why don't we go sit down and watch a movie? You can pick it out."

You nod back, and that's enough for him to give your shoulders a squeeze as he moves to let go, but you don't let him.

"Wait."

He looks back, expression encouraging as he waits for you to continue speaking.

"If he's not in the basement, where did you put him?"

His smile stays on his face, but it looks strained. His eyes lose that warmth they had before, an empty quality entering them. You're painfully aware of the fact that you and Ben are the only two left in the house, and how close you are to the basement. A chill runs down your spine.

"Do you really want to know that?"

His hands were still gripping your shoulders, and you had a feeling they would stay there until you gave him the right answer.

"No." You lie.

He lets out a breath, and so do you, both of you relaxing at your submission. His hands fall from your shoulders, going to your back as he guides you away from the basement.

"That's for the best." He says. "You don't need to be worrying about that, alright? That's what I'm here for."

You nod, at a loss for what else to do as he guides you towards the living room.

The next day, you notice a new lock on the basement door. Neither of you comment on it.

#yandere #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere original character #yandere oc #x reader #yandere x reader #gn reader

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thetxtdevil · 3 days

Text

Blueberry Pie

Soobin x Reader

summary: A day of cleaning turns into a lovely day of baking and sex

content: short and sweet smut :) bf soobin, gf reader, vaginal fingering, penetration, no protection, pull-out

word count: 1.3k

the fruit collection

with loathing painted all over your facial expression, you reach further into the unmaintained refrigerator, blaming no one else but yourself for making it a mess. you were originally relaxing with your boyfriend, soobin, when you got up to get a snack the smell of rotting food hit your nose. loudly, you moan in disgust knowing what you have to do.

now you were crouched down cleaning out the fridge. realizing how much take-out you've been eating from the lack of fresh leftovers and an abundance of spoiled food.

"thats done for, thats nasty, i guess this can hold on for a little longer..."

soobin looks at you with an expression opposite from yours, he couldn't help but find your current attitude cute. loves when you’re doing the bare minimum because he loves you that much. although he could watch you all day he decided to help by going through the pantry also seeing things that may need to be thrown out.

your ears perk when a loud beeping comes from the fridge telling you to close the door. stretching out of your crouched position, you walk over to soobin to see how he is doing. you then notice a cluster of flour, baking powder, sugar, extract laying out excluded from the pantry. looking back at soobin you caught him staring, he quickly focuses on the cereal boxes.

you walk towards him "the baking stuff looks fine i don't think we need to throw them out" you say trying to get in his line of sight.

"yes they're fine but,,," he finally glances at you, something about your smirk gets him going "maybe we can make something?"

you hum at his request looking over at the pile he made and then to the fridge.

"i think we have blueberries that survived the clean-out"

"blueberry pie?" soobin grins leaning into you for a small peck of the lips.

"blueberry pie indeed."

and there you two were making the filling for the pie. soobin close to you making it difficult to move, but you didn't mind the attention.

"can you pour 2/3 cup of sugar, sugar?" you ask while throwing a berry in your mouth.

soobin blushes at the given nickname and does what you ask. handing you the measuring cup of sugar he leans on the counter watching you whip the filling ingredients. you glance over at him with a smile you reach for leftover blueberries, feeding one to him. he accepts the offer staring into your eyes, lips close to your fingers, he eats the berry satisfied by your blushed face.

you shake your head "you're trouble binnie"

you pour the filling into the dough bowl. the dark blue color in contrast of the light beige dough made your mouth water. soobin rolls out more dough and cuts it into strips. both of you intricately cross the dough making a criss-cross pattern. holding up you look at the beauty that you guys made you place it in the oven. straightening your back you twist your body to look at your boyfriend. ignoring the fact that he was checking out your ass you lean forward to kiss him. then you continue to clean up the kitchen.

soobin again watches you keeping a close eye on your movements. how you arms flex when carrying the bags of sugar and flour back into the pantry. how your lip pout in concentration whipping way any crumbs. he can't help but to look at the curve of your body when you're hunched over at the kitchen sink. soobin didn't care for the taste of the pie when he really wanted a taste of you.

he struts over to you wrapping his big arms around your waist. your look up over your shoulder to see him staring at you. you smile and go back to scrubbing a bowl. soobin lowers his head to your neck and kisses the skin. his hands start to wonder your body then grinds against your ass. you realized you lost all attention to the dishes when you scrubbing came to a halt and the sponge was out of your hand. you turn your head to soobin again, cupping his face, and kissing him deeply. you turn your body to get into a more comfortable angle. soobin's wondering hands lowered themselves, one being on your hip and the other between your legs.

you gasp at the feeling "was this your plan all along?"

he flashes you a dimple smile before continuing the make out session. you start to move your hip with soobins hands to get more of that pleasurable feeling. leaning your head back you bring your hands to your breast rubbing the harden nipples.

"god you're hot" soobin whispers to you.

his hand from your hips to you hands he takes one of them off. soobin bows his head in between your boobs and begins to suck and bite your free nipple. you whine and getting irritably hot, you grab to his shirt to get his attention.

"want your dick" you pant at him.

his head snaps up looking at your frustrated pout he was making sure he heard you right. you give him a little whine from your impatience he instantly flips you back towards the sink. tearing your shorts along with your panties down, soobin looks down smirking at the dark patch dampening the cloth. chest on your back, fingers back to your cunt, he whispers into your ear "are you sure that you weren't planning this all along?"

with a firm grip on your hips, he pushes them back to his pressing his hard-on. you groan knowing he was as horny as you and bend your back to display yourself to him. soobin pushes a his two fingers past your fold and into your pussy. you lay your head down on the counter top, eyes closed to concentrate every feeling you had of his curling finger pressing against your gummy walls.

"please, soobin" you whine moving your pussy closer and closer to him.

soobin sighs at you lovely whines and silently agrees to let you have what you want. while still having his long fingers inside you, he drags his shorts down. lining his girthy cock to your soaked hole teasing the tip until slamming his whole girth stretch you out nicely. soobin doesn't wait to move, he wanted to do this all afternoon while cleaning. what a patient boy :( soaking in your warmth and tightness and your pornographic moans. you had your head on your arm protecting your skull from being thrusted into the granite. the heat from both your boyfriend and the oven cooking the pie was overstimulating.

*beeeeeep*

your eye widen "the pie!" you turn your head towards the timer to see it was out

soobin's thrust hesitate for a second just to become as fast as he could. he leans over you back bitting your sensitive skin. wrapping his hand over to your sensitive clit to rub giving your belly a pleasurable heat feeling.

"are you going to last any longer" kissing your shoulder while watching your head frantically shake side to side.

he smirks adding more power to his thrusts to have that feeling of your pussy clenching around him. whiny moan fell from you lips as your cum drips. soobin pulls out quickly jerking himself to cum on your back and your plush bottom. you stay bent over, back rising and falling trying to catch your breathe. you yelps at a feeling of your boyfriends tongue cleaning up his mess.

enough energy to lift your body up and reach for a cup filling it with water. soobin kisses your forehead say sweet things.

"you're forgetting the pie" soobin whispers into your ear

you eyes bulge out of your head rushing over to the oven half naked to grab oven mitts. lifting the pie out of the oven you place the beloved sweet on the countertop. steam flourished from the dessert, the tart yet sweet scent filling your nostrils. the crust was dark close to be burnt but the reason for your forgetfulness you deemed to be valid.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🫐

#txt imagines #txt devil #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin x you #soobin x y/n #soobin scenarios

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f1fantasys · 23 hours

Text

The Best

Summary - Ex's who find their way back to each other after a tough few races for Lando.

Warnings - 18+ minors DNI, swearing, fingering, fucking :) - you know the rest.

You'd dated Lando for 2 years until you broke up about 7 months ago. The pressures of your modelling jobs and his F1 career slowly slid their way into your relationship until it became too much for the both you. You didn't break up because you stopped loving each other, but rather quite the opposite. You loved each other so much but at the same time you were both straining your relationship. Missed texts, missed calls, missed dates. There was just never time to be simple girlfriend and boyfriend. Being away from each other for too long, only to be sitting in the same room doing your own thing and hardly talking to each other, too busy concentrating on what had to be done for work. Eventually though, you decided together that it was the best for both mental and physical reasons. You never told anyone, but the breakup was the hardest thing you had gone through. You loved Lando so much and to suddenly stop having him in your life was awful. There were countless nights after where you would stare at his contact, almost calling him and telling him you needed him back, but you had to hold your ground. Especially since he seemed to have moved on from you pretty quickly - which only made it hurt more. Weeks after you breakup he was constantly spotted with a new girl on his arm every time he went out. You really tried hard not to look at your socials but at the same time you couldn't keep your eyes away.

Both living in Monaco, there were a handful of times you had seen Lando around. It was actually always an almost awkward encounter, even though you didn't end of bad terms. You'd just say a quick ''hi, how are you'' before moving on.

It was until he was seen with the same girl, multiple times. Regularly going out, holding hands, kissing, all captured by the paps. Your heart broke at how quickly he found someone, yet here you were, still trying to find yourself after the breakup. A lot of people on twitter were convinced that this new 'relationship' of his was just a PR stint - that they weren't actually dating. This gave you a sliver of hope.

Max and Ria, whom you were extremely close with, hardly talked about Lando in front of you, however they did let slip that Lando never talked about his new flame to them, so they knew as little as you did. Recently though, maybe the last 2/3 weeks, there was not one new picture of them, no news. Nothing. And you weren't complaining.

The Monaco GP had just finished. You'd watched it from your balcony with all your best friends from the UK, Max and Ria included. Lando has had a pretty frustrating last few races. He was had placed P2 3 times now, so close to the front, just not getting the edge to overtake Max. You could tell from his body language after the races how much he was beating himself up. He was always too hard on himself. You wished he would see just how talented and loved he is by all his fans. Yet again in Monaco, he was P2. 0.7 seconds behind Max. This time though it broke your heart to see how sad he was, how angry he was to not cross the line at P1. About two hours after the post race interviews and everything had concluded, you got a missed call from Adam, Lando's dad.

It wasn't a surprise as you still kept in touch with Lando's family but you did think it was weird for his dad to call you after a race like this. Wearily, you answered.

''Hello?

''Hey Y/N, how are you?'' he asked.

''All good Adam, how are you guys? Is everything ok?''

''Yeah we're all good. Maybe Lando not so much.. you know with the race and all. I actually called to see if you would be okay to come over and be with him. He's really been beating himself down the last few races and you were always the one who could calm him down. He's actually been talking a lot about you recently and I thought maybe it would be good for you to see him.'' he said.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. Of course you wanted to be there for Lando but you weren't sure if you were willing to let your heart break again when you left him.

''I-I..'' you started but Adam cut you off.

''I know it's a lot what I'm asked for. But I know you didn't end on bad terms. I think he just really needs you right now.''

''Okay, I'll come over.'' you said, still second guessing yourself.

''Thank you so much, Y/N, really.''

You told your friends you needed to be somewhere, luckily no one asked many questions, Either too drunk or tired to care. You changed into some shorts and a hoodie, looking at yourself in the mirror. You were going to see him after a while, and you wanted to look decent at least. So you fixed your hair and applied a little powder to yourself, not that Lando would even notice to be honest.

The drive to his house had your mind spiraling. What would you say to him. What would he say to you being there? Maybe he wouldn't even want you there. 'Shit' you thought to yourself as your parked in front of his penthouse.

You took a few breaths to calm yourself down before walking up his front door and knocking. Cisca, Lando's mum opened the door.

''Y/N, it's so good to see you'' she said, pulling you into a hug.

''You too Cisca'' you told her before Adam joined you and started talking.

''Thank you so much for coming, it sure means a lot to us and I'm sure it will mean a hell of a lot to our boy. He's in his room.'' he told you.

Once again, collecting your emotions, you walked to Lando's room. The door was closed so you took a deep breath and gentle knocked. You could hear him shuffling around, so when he didn't open the door or say anything you told him it was you.

''Lando, its Y/N. Can I come in?'' you asked.

The noise on the other side stopped. Within the next few seconds the door flew open.

There he stood. Eyes red and puffy, staring into your soul, mouth quivering and nose sniffling. But at the same time, beautiful as you remember. Curls brown and messy, eyes bright and blue. You both literally stopped breathing for a moment. Just taking the moment to take each other in. You didn't look any better to be honest. Sleepless nights thinking about him, eye bags formed under your eyes.

He broke the silence.

''Y/N'' he whispered.

You couldn't make out if he was relieved or happy to see you, or angry. You suddenly felt like you had to justify why you were here, standing at his bedroom door.

''I--, Umm, your dad asked me to come over and check in on you'' you started. But as you continued he came closer to you. So close that you could feel his breath on your face.

''Can I hug you?'' he asked.

And your heart broke into a million pieces.

You didn't respond verbally. You just pulled him to yourself. Arms wrapping around his head while his found your waist and pulled you flush against him. You could feel and hear start to gently shake and silently sob. It took everything in you not to cry. You had to be strong for him.

''Lan, please. Don't cry. Come on. You're stronger than this. Please don't beat yourself up. Please.'' you whispered as you soothed the hair on the back of his neck.

He gently pulled away and pulled you into his room before closing the door and making his way to sit on his bed.

''I'm so fucking useless. Can't even get past the same guy on track. Race after race. It's bullshit and I'm sick of it.'' He said, resting his face in his hands.

You let out a breath and made your way to sit next to him.

''Lando, look at me,'' you said quite sternly, so he did. You started rubbing his back.

''You are not fucking useless. You are one of the most talented drivers out there. If you weren't good enough, then trust me, you wouldn't be within seconds of the race leader. You need to just have faith in yourself and give yourself time. Me, your family, your fans, everyone knows that you are the best out there - and it's only a matter of time until you get P1. You've done it before, and you'll do it a thousand more times. It hurts to see you blaming yourself after every race. As much as you are alone in the car, you know there are other things- and people who determine how your race goes.''

His gaze on you was so fixed, so intense that you almost felt shy now. But you were telling him the truth. In your eyes, he was the best, and his time to shine would come soon. You knew it.

Small tears continued to slip out his eyes so you gently wiped them away.

Lando clung himself to you again, making you engulf him in another hug.

''Just be positive Lan, you're doing so well. And you'll continue to get better.'' you said.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, a while for sure, before Lando spoke up.

''I'm so tired, can we cuddle?'' he wearily asked.

You so wanted to stay with him and comfort him, but your head was telling you not to. You stayed silent for a few seconds when he spoke up again.

''Please? Just for a bit. I'll give you a t-shirt to change into.'' he said.

''Okay'' you eventually told him.

Since he was still in his race suit he quickly found you some clothes to change into and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower.

While he was showering it took everything in you not to imagine him standing there, letting the water run down his warm, tan, muscled body, not to mention other parts of him that you so deeply missed. When you were together, your sex life was incredible. You knew each others bodies inside out and it was a big part of your relationship.

You really needed to get those thoughts out of your head though. You weren't here for that, You were here to be here for him.

You quickly changed your clothes into his before scrolling away on your phone waiting for him.

He emerged from the bathroom in just a pair of shorts, no t-shirt and you had to stop yourself from staring. He pulled back the covers and climbed in the bed, gesturing for you to do the same.

And for the first time, he was the little spoon. He curled up into a little ball and you hugged and cuddled him from behind. Playing with his hair and massaging him gently. It felt good to be this close to him after so long. You missed having his body pressed to yours, you missed smelling his scent.

Lando seemed to have settled down after a while, both of you drifting into a light slumber when you heard him talk.

''Thank you for being here for me, Y/N.''

''Always, Lan'' you said, finding his hand and squeezing it in an assuring manner.

Slowly, he turned his body so he was now facing you. Your hand stayed in his hair, gently twisting his curls all the while you both stared at each other, longingly.

He bought his face closer to yours. Again, so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His eyes wandered down to your lips. You knew that look all too well. He wanted to kiss you.

''Lan'' you mumbled.

''Please'' he begged.

By now you couldn't contain yourself, so you nodded your head.

In no time he crashed his lips to yours. It was messy and desperate. As if you were both starved of each other. In no time Lando's tongue was in your mouth, searching for gold. He nipped and sucked at your bottom lip as you moaned into the kiss and pulled him closer, so now he was hovering over you.

At the back of your mind you knew this was wrong. But you couldn't help the feeling of having him kiss you as if his life depended on it. You pulled on his hair as his lips left yours and traveled to you neck, quickly finding your sweet spot.

By now both of your breathing was heavy, both gasping for air but not stopping your activities what-so-ever, the kiss getting sloppier by the second.

You felt Lando's hand reach the hem of your shorts, itching to slip past them, but you stopped him. You knew you couldn't go further without leaving with a broken heart again.

''Lando no, I can't.'' you almost sobbed even though you so badly didn't want him to stop.

''I need you, Y/N. I've needed you since you walked out the door 7 months ago.''

Now you had tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

''And not for sex. For you. Your whole being.''

''What about her?'' you couldn't help but ask.

His face immediately dropped.

''It was nothing. The other girls were just to get my mind away from you and then my socials were blowing up. So they got her and me to pretend, so I didn't look like a douche with a new girl just to fall deeper into a hole.'' he spoke quickly.

You were shocked, but let out a sigh of relieve.

Lando kissed you again, re-assuring you. ''You're the only one I want. I don't want to rush things if you're not ready t be together again.''

You didn't say anything, you just kissed him again, and took his hand back to it's place on your hips, slightly nodding at him to continue.

Lando's hands slipped on the inside and he cupped your sex. Your breath hitched in your throat and you grunted through his movements. His thumb found you clit and immediately started rubbing circles on it, while his middle finger slipped into you with ease due to how wet you were for him.

He snaked his head under your oversized hoodie and latched his mouth to your nipple. Sucking and biting down at it which had you writhing under him. Desperate for more.

His finger continued sliding in and out of you before he added another.

''Lan, please'' you begged him for more.

He quickly sat on his knees and removed all of your clothes, leaving you bare naked under him. You toyed with the strings of his joggers but he swiped your hands away. ''The nights' gonna end early if you do that'' he said, showing you the first smile he had this evening.

You pulled him back down for a kiss and he snaked his way down your body, settled between your legs.

You cunt was glistening with juices, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. So he licked a stripe up, collecting all your juices on his tongue before using them to easy his way into you.

You were a moaning mess by now. Body so relieved to be getting attention from the one you craved the most, pulling at his hair and scratching his shoulders, surely leaving marks.

He continued his onslaught on your pussy until you felt that all familiar warmth building in your stomach and within minutes you released your cum all over his face, gasping for air - the both of you.

''Fuck, Y/N, so good'' he said through breaths, coming up to kiss you again. Both your mouths a mess - full of spit and cum.

''Need to feel you in me, please'' he begged him between breaths.

This time Lando wasted no time in shedding his joggers. His member springing free, slapping his stomach, red and angry, with pre cum already dripping through the tip.

You gasped at seeing how angry it looked. How delicious it looked. You took him in your hands and started pumping him, causing him to be the one gasping this time, dick twitching in your hands.

You sat up slighlty and licked the pre cum off the tip, making Lando buck his hips forward, latching onto the headboard to keep himself up.

''Hmm, fuck, Y/N' he said as you took as much of him in your mouth, sucking and licking at him.

''Not gonna last long if you carry on'' he said, so he pulled out of your mouth and pushed you to lie down again. But instead he changed his mind and roughly man handled you to turn your body over so you were now on all fours.

He swiped his cock through your folds, collecting more of your juices and finally, placed himself at your entrance before pushing in, fast and hard.

''Ah, oh, Lando'' you said through gritted teeth.

He wasn't making love to you. He was fucking you, straight away. He gave your cunt no time to get used to the intrusion after having gone months without it.

''That's it, Y/N, so tight for me, walls clenching around me so nicely'' he whispered i n your ear as his hand found its way around your throat, turning you on so much more.

You latched your hands onto the headboard and steadied your body, coming back to meet him halfway, bodies slamming into each other.

A few grunts and moans later your brain remembered where you were. In Lando's house, with his family in the lounge down the hall.

''Fuck Lando, everyone can hear us.'' you said, trying to slow his movements.

''Hmm, let them. Don't care. Just wanna fuck you until you can't walk anymore'' he said, body still slamming into yours.

It almost felt as if sad Lando was gone and now angry Lando was back. And he was fucking his frustrations and anger into you. Using you to help him feel better about yourself. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

In no time you were silently screaming his name, your juices gushing all over his cock, before you pulled out and flipping you over again, only to slam into you again.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could and pulled on his curls.

Lando had his eyes closed ''Might not me the best fucking drivers, but definitely fucking my girl the best. That's it baby, taking me so well'' he grunted through gritted teeth, before lowering his mouth to your nipples again, showing them no mercy.

Hearing him call you his girl instantly had the butterflies brewing in your stomach again, edging closer to your orgasm. You could feel his movements start to get sloppier by the second as well, the both of you barely able to keep your moans in.

All that could be heard in the room were grunts, moans, and bodies slamming into each other, sticky juices all over.

You orgasm came with no warning, and as soon as you released you felt Lando empty his warm milky cum into you, dick twitching, so overstimulated. Your body was a shaking mess underneath Lando's as he let his weight fall on you and slumped down on you, which you didn't mind at all.

You stayed there, just holding onto each other, catching your breaths and your mind up to what just happened.

Lando's dick was softening inside you so he gentle pulled out, eyes never leaving yours. You whimpered at the loss of contact but he kept you distracted enough by lowering his mouth to your cunt, sucking up a mixture of both of your cum, and leaning back up to kiss you and make a mess on your face.

You moaned into the kiss again until Lando got up to get a warm towel to clean you both up.

After doing so, he climbed back into bed and this time you were little spoon, back in your place.

''Seriously Y/N, thank you for being there for me today. I miss you so bloody much and this time I'm going to put the work in to make us work. I love you fucking much baby.'' he cooed into your ear and you squeezed his hand.

''I love you too Lan. Promise me one thing though?'' you asked.

''Yeah?''

''Stop being so hard on yourself. You are the most amazing person I know and I want you to see how special and talented you are. Please'' you begged him.

You felt him nod his head. ''Yeah, I'll try. Thank you.''

''And I've missed you more than you can ever imagine. I love you Lan. You're it for me.'' you whispered back, before he kissed you gently.

You'd finally found you way back to each other.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #lando smut

58 notes · View notes

tan1shere · 2 days

Text

Ellie x anxious reader !

A/n: hi my beautiful people, it's currently 3 am.. and I have work in a few hours but we won't talk about that 😍 got this little idea since I'm an overly anxious person. Mine always creeps up righttt when I'm about to sleep, if you're like me. I get you, and honestly I hope some of you are so I don't feel so alone. Or whether you get it any time of the day (ditto, I just get it worse at night.) This one's for you !! Anyways, enjoy :)

Masterlist

♤ Your anxiety came in all shapes, forms, and sizes. Any time, all day sometimes everyday. It's always going to be there, but you've tried to learn to control it. Buttt when that's not the case your loving girlfriend is always there to ease your pesky brain.

♤ It would always happen at night, when you'd get off to sleep, at first you kept silent. You didn't want to bother, nor be a nuisance towards Ellie, but one night she noticed something off about you.

- you were stalling, making up excuses of things you forgot to do that day.

"Shit, the laundry-"

"Bubba, you can always do it tomorrow. Come lay down with me sweetheart."

- her gentle tone soon got to you and you told her.

"What's gotten into you?"

- the look she gave you was pure worry, concerned for your frantic behavior. Then when you kept inhaling these breaths, making then end in slight sighs she just needed to get whatever it was out of you.

"M-my-"

- you shake your head, you felt so stupid, you begin to put your head on your hands, she pries them away so softly, getting you to look at her as she placed her soft fingers on your cheek.

"Talk to me. Please? It's hurting me knowing something is bothering you so much."

- you could tell she meant it. You always felt like no one did, feeling silly about your anxiety, as that's what others made you think. That you were just being dramatic. A baby. You let out another breath.

"I get really anxious, about heaps of things, to the point where my brain feels like its on fire and I can't focus on anything properly. It gets worse at night time, so I try to make myself tired, knowing that if I lay down wide awake my thoughts will scatter."

- she listens carefully to what you have to say, she was always such a good listener.

"Why didn't you tell me baby."

"I was scared you'd think I was pathetic.."

- your head lowers but she immediately stops that from happening. Her eyes on yours as she begins to speak in a soft tone.

"You, my girl. Are one of the most bravest woman I know. To have to deal with such a thing all the time is huge, and the fact that I've never even witnessed it shows how truly brave you are. Though I wish you told me sooner, its awful holding such things in."

- her hand never leaves your face stroking your cheek. You melt into her touch, her voice and presence making you sleepy. Maybe that's all you needed? Her?

"I love you, Els."

"I love you so much more angel."

♤ One technique she uses on you is the 5 things game. 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste. Which is always water that she gets for you.

- Youd just been having a panic attack, your emotions, your brain going mental. You felt like you couldn't breathe. When she heard something fall in the kitchen she came racing over to you. Your vision incredibly blury with a mixture of tears and whiteness from the light headedness.

"Hey hey, eyes on me."

- her voice was like silk, still in desperate need to calm you down.

"Come on baby."

- she would encourage you, moving your hand to her chest, trying to get you to calm down a tiny bit before she continued.

"5 things you can see."

- you'd take a second to respond not knowing if you could get words out, let alone forming a sentence.

"You.. *gulp* th- that glass.. that I just broke.."

- she didn't stop you rambling, the more words the better. She needed your mind far gone from any other thoughts.

"The counter, the sink. The early morning sky."

"Good good, 4 things you can feel. You got this mama."

- it'd keep going until you got to the last one, your brain was far from the original problem by then, but she needed you hydrated, knowing your mouth was also incredibly dry.

"Last but not least, one thing you can taste?"

- she grabs a fresh glass pouring water into it, giving it to you to drink. You take a good sip, letting it wet your mouth feeling so much more calm now.

"Water."

"That's my girl."

- she would always say that, making a smile spread across your face, you always felt so safe with her.

♤ Another one she will do on occasion is hold your hand gently, playing with your fingers and or rubbing small circles on your palm. Even when she holds your hand she will rub her thumb on the back of it. It distract you, calms you down. Especially if you're talking to someone, not only are you anxious but you're just genuinely awkward, so sometimes you freak out when talking to people. That's when she will grab it, letting you know she's there with you and there's nothing to worry about.

♤ yawning. You would always yawn when you felt short of breath, whenever you felt uneasy in your chest yawning seemed to help with that. Ellies noticed all your techniques over the years of being with you. Sometimes it made her feel like she couldn't help you in any way and it got to her, you'd assure her that you were fine but she knows that was far from the truth.

♤ so she studied your helping mechanisms, one was something hot on your chest, like a heating pack. It calmed you right down. Ellie even Googled some other things to try help. She once noticed after you had drunk a little bit that the type of alcohol seemed to make you sleepy.

- she was typing away at her computer when she came across something that said some alcohols can get you sleepy.

"Whatcha doin Els?"

- your soft voice was heard as you enter the room, her eyes meet yours.

"Just some research baby."

-she flashes you a smile, going to continue. You return the smile, going out the room to leave her be. As she continues to read articles, she found a home remedy to help with sleep, and anxiety. It was quite simple. Ellie came back downstairs and began to make it in a tiny bottle. She also read lavender was good for sleep, grabbing some oil of the scent from the cupboard, and putting a bit on the heating pack.

-you were in the living room, watching TV when she comes in super happy. Finally she could help you.

"What's this?"

"I made some things to help you sleep. These drops will help, put three on your tongue every night, and this heat pack. Which! Has some lavender oil rubbed into it."

- she ends her explanation off with a toothy smile, feeling so proud of herself. It only made you smile, feeling the secure feeling you'd always feel with her. She truly was your world.

:))

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff

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httpscomexe · 3 days

Note

Barnes has to protect the new girl which he despises but after spending time with her he realises he loves her.

Okay this isn't EXACTLY what you asked for, I changed it up a little, but it works.

Pinky Promise: The Masquerade

Summary: Barnes is set up on a mission by Steve Rogers with the person he claims he hates so dearly. Everything is fine until after they realise everything is about to set fire, and the soldier is once again awakened.

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Mentions of Y/N)

Warnings: (My English can be kinda bad, I don’t proofread) Smut, light choking, fighting, yelling, nothing too big in this chapter. P/V sex, mentions of drugs, mentions of child trafficking. If you don’t like Haunting Adeline, then I don’t suggest reading the next few chapters, they are slightly based off of that book which includes non-con.

Pt2

(Every photo used for the picture below was found on Pinterest. DM me if you want any of the photos. The dividers used are made by me)

“Barnes.” Tony Stark approaches the soldier, his hands in his pockets, and the expression on his face unreadable. “Now, I know we’ve been through some tough times, hating each other back and forth.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and crosses them in front of his chest. “But we have a job for you. It should be easy.”

“Just spit it out already, Stark.” The soldier carefully drops the heavy load he’d been holding with his left hand, and his arm hums as it recalibrates.

“Your mission is to protect the new girl. My daughter.” Tony spits out, hating even the thought of James Barnes, the famous killer, to protect his little girl. “She has a mission where she needs to steal a phone, she's a master pickpocket and the phone is in the pocket of a man who’ll be in a very crowded room. A masquerade ball, to be specific.” He sighs, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

“Okay. When?”

“Tonight.”

“Well thanks for the short notice, Stark.” Barnes says angrily before grabbing up his package again and turning away to leave.

“You have a suit sitting on your bed ready for you. Be ready by seven thirty!” Stark calls after him. Worried for what the outcome of this mission would be.

Hey, I’m Y/N, Mr. Stark's daughter. You must be Bucky? Was the first thing you had said to him as you had stuck your hand out for him to shake. Yea. Was all he had said as he stared down at you, observing your face and body as you awkwardly shoved your hand back into your tactical pants and he walked away, getting seated in the limo that your dad had rented so you followed after him, still craving to be friends with him.

“Stark, your target is about 6 '2, his hair is black, curly, and is usually tied up. He was last seen 15 minutes ago at the ball wearing a black tuxedo and his masquerade mask.” You made sure your weapons were concealed as you shifted in your seat, your long pink dress hides your thigh holster well.

“You look good in pink.” You giggle quietly as you look up at Barnes, dressed up in the pinkest tuxedo you’ve ever seen, and he was visibly angered by your constant teasing and taunting of his apparel. “F.R.I.D.A.Y? Did you not receive a picture of my target?”

“No ma’am. The only thing we have as of now is a description of your target. He’s normally crowded by women, so I believe you should approach him with a false attempt in seducing him, and then pickpocket him. But you are the professional.” The led lights above you flash as F.R.I.D.A.Y speaks.

“We’ll see what the best approach is when we get inside.”

“Do we have to wear these stupid masks?” Barnes finally speaks to you, holding up his matching pink masquerade mask, but instead of answering him, all you can do is laugh to yourself, his face doesn’t even attempt to curl into a smile as the limo finally pulls in front of your location. A large mansion, at least three stories with a pool and multiple fountains in the front. You want to be impressed, but you know the riches come from drug and child trafficking, so you can’t even force yourself to be impressed as you take Barnes’ hand, playing your parts as lovers well as he gently takes your hand and helps you out of the car, then you both place your masks on your faces, putting you into work mode as you hook your arm through his, then make your way into the mansion, your heart skipping immediately when you walk in as your eyes are met with hundreds of people already dancing and drinking, each of their identities concealed with a mask, but your eyes know exactly what to look for.

“Stark? What-?” The food. You leave his side, casually speed walking to the long tables that are filled with desserts and drinks that you’ve never even heard of until now. Your needy fingers immediately reach out and pick up a small bowl of strawberries that were covered in white chocolate and sprinkles, and just before you put the sweet mouth-watering strawberry into your mouth, you feel an iron grip around your wrist, preventing you from biting into it. “What are you doing?” He growls in your ear, his left hand gripping your left hand to the point where your fingers went numb.

“I’m hungry…” You whisper to him, looking up at him through your lashes as he stares down at you with a hard expression, then hesitantly, he releases his grip on your wrist and wraps his arm around your waist instead, gently guiding you towards a different direction to continue looking for your target as you munch on your strawberries. “That's him.” You say quietly, nudging him gently as your eyes catch sight of a taller man, his fingers and wrist covered in golden jewels, and he has tattoos reaching up from out of his suit, creeping up his neck. You’d recognize a drug dealer from anywhere. “Hold my strawberries.” You hand Barnes the bowls, and work your magic…

“See that was easy.” You tell him, holding up the man's phone in your right hand before Barnes snatches it and shoves it into his pocket. “Hey!”

“Don’t fucking flaunt it are you stupid? What if someone sees it?”

“Like who?” You stop in the hallway you were walking in and face him with your arms crossed. The hallway is completely empty. You were told the restrooms were in this direction, but you swear the hallway never ends. But your heart skips as you hear approaching footsteps. Realistically, you weren't supposed to be back here.

“Shit.” Barnes grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, then opens a random door and steps inside, the automatic lights turning on, causing you to jump. “Fuck.” He mumbles, knowing the light would give you away, so he drags you over to the far wall. “Play along.” He grumbles, quickly undoing his tie and loosening his shirt just slightly before reaching towards you and messing your hair up, then he leans forward and his lips land on your neck.

Your whole world was suddenly spinning as you felt his lips touch your skin, it was like your body was on fire and your eyes rolled slightly as his hands squeezed your waist and he kept you pressed to the wall with urgency.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be in here.” A man walks into the room, and you could see three others behind him. One of them was your target.

“Oh we're sorry, we just needed some…” Barnes looks down at you, you couldn’t make it more obvious how dazed you were. “Privacy.” He tells the men before gently brushing your hair back and fixing his suit. “But we’ll get going, sorry.” He takes your hand and you both brush past the men, who were most likely planning their next attack, which you’d get all of the details on from the man's phone.

“But I wanna drive.” You whine, trying to push past Barnes to make it to the driver's seat, and he was becoming more visibly frustrated with you.

“I said no-!” He grumbles, his teeth clenched to prevent himself from yelling and catching unwanted attention. His hands had gripped your upper arms, tight. Then he slammed you against the pink sports car that was parked a little ways away right next to some other sports cars, including a black tesla with dark tinted windows and an orange ferrari, but still close enough to not be suspicious. It was your 16th birthday gift from you dad, and you loved it. Even if the pink suit and dress for tonight's mission was in spite of making Barnes look bad, your dad still knew you loved all things pink.

“Okay!” You squeal. “Okay… I’m sorry Barnes… please let go, you're hurting me.” You ask him, his grip tightening, and his face mere centimetres from yours, you could smell the hint of peppermint on his breath and the cologne on his clothes. Then he slowly lets go, and backs away from you before opening the passenger door and watching you slip into the car, then he rounds the car and gets into the driver seat before starting the car.

“Get comfortable, it’s a long ride to the hotel.”

“Okay…” You mumble, shifting in your seat and getting comfortable as you remove your dress so you’re only in your shorts and a tank top.

The next few hours fly by like they were nothing, and your eyes are continuously focusing on anything it could be occupied by. One moment you're focusing your eyes on passing trees and the next you're pretending there's a little ninja jumping over little obstacles and swinging from power lines, moving your fingers in your peripheral to enhance your imagination.

But that's when your eyes turned and focused on Barnes, and the way his hands gripped the wheel. His left arm hung out of the driver window which has been rolled down since you’d gotten onto the freeway and he was focused purely on the road. As you approach a red light, you observe how when he flexes his hand, the veins in his hand move in the most attractive way possible, his muscles growing under his pink tuxedo as he stretches a little.

“That car looks familiar.” He snaps you out of your trans and you turn your head in the direction he's looking in only to see an orange Ferrari, behind it was the black tesla with dark tinted windows.

“Yea, they were parked next to us at the ball.”

“What’re the chances they’re going to the same hotel?”

“Not likely considering we’re going to one that's four hours away. Why wouldn’t they stay near where the ball is?”

“Because they’re following us. Where’s the phone?”

“In your pocket.”

“Get it out, I’m gonna take some random ass turns to see if they’re following.” You listen, immediately reaching over to take the phone from his right pocket, but when you reach in, it’s not there. Shit.

“It’s in your other pocket.” You say before unbuckling and reaching over his lap as he moves his arms to make room for you to crawl around him, then you dig into his other pocket and pull out his phone. As soon as your back up straight with the phone in a hidden compartment, you buckle and Barnes presses on the gas, allowing you to move ahead of the ferrari, whos speed doesn’t change, but the tesla continues to follow, both of them taking the same exit as Barnes turns the wheel, still going in the direction of the hotel. “Yea no they’re definitely following us.” You point out as if it wasn’t already obvious. “Are you sure you can drive well? I mean you were dead for like-”

“Shut up. I’m gonna pretend I’m getting gas.”

“What-?” He turns the wheel, pulling into a 7/11 before parking next to a pump and getting out of the vehicle with his gun concealed in his dress pants, then as expected, both of the cars pulled into the gas station.

Shit, shit, shit… You watched as a man steps out of the ferrari, dressed in a suit as he begins to press buttons for the gas pump, and then suddenly all of your worries leave your body, replaced easily by hunger and thirst, so when Barnes isn’t looking, you leave the car and make your way into the gas station.

“Welcome.” The man at the front desk says as you enter the store, and immediately head to the chips and soda.

Back at the car, Barnes finishes pumping the car with gas and he gets back into the driver seat, feeling the threat isn’t serious anymore, until he realises you’re missing. “This fucking girl Stark.” He mumbles to himself, then looks around the parking lot until his eyes land on you, innocently searching the candy aisle inside of the gas station.

Should I get starbursts, or twix…? You ask yourself with your arms crossed, the candies both sitting side by side as you make the hardest decision of your life, almost as hard as the hand that wrapped around your waist.

“He’s taking pictures of you.” You turn and look up at Barnes as he also pretends to search the candies, and your eyes dart to his right where a man in a hood, which you could tell he was huge from his frame, was looking down at his phone unashamedly, and you could see him scrolling through different pictures he had just taken of you with his thumb. You felt Barnes hand tighten around your waist, warning you to look away before you were suspicious. “And I don’t like it.” He whispers, sending chills down your spine that felt amazing, so you grab the starbursts, the pink pack, then you walk to the registrar, Barnes presence never leaving you as he presses his front against your back and places a drink on the counter, then slips the man a twenty before grabbing both items in one hand and your hand in the other, practically dragging you out of the store and back to the car.

Arriving at the hotel, you could see the visible frustration on Barnes’ face, almost like he was written in anger, but you weren’t sure what was wrong. The mission had gone well with no casualties and you stole the item that your mission had listed. So why was he so angry?

“Barnes.” You say his name peacefully, as if you were about to make an offering. “Barnes?” You repeat when he doesn’t answer as he throws his bag of clothes on the floor and plops onto a couch. You toss your bag on the couch and sit opposite from him in the recliner. “Why’re you mad at me?” You finally ask. His head looks up at you slightly and his eyes flash with anger

“Why? You really need to ask me that? After everything that’s happened tonight, you just fucking disappear. No explanation, no warning.”

“I was just getting a snack… It’s not a big deal. We had the situation under control.” You explain bluntly, and a frustrated growl comes from his throat as he looks away from you before slowly standing up from the couch, and you copy him, expecting a heated argument, but of course, you didn’t know James Buchanan Barnes, and he wasn’t for any arguments.

“That’s not the point!” He yells, his posture becoming stiff and angered as he approaches you, and you back away in fear, your back hitting the wall and your hands pressing flat against the wall as well as you squish yourself against the flat surface.

You can see him trying not to lose control. Why would you approve a mission with me and him as partners dad? You wondered as Barnes sighs and leans in closer to you, his face only mere centimetres from yours as he whispers, aggression still clearly in his voice. “You have no idea… what could’ve happened to you, or what I would’ve done if something had happened to you…” You don’t respond, only staring at the floor to avoid his eyes as you keep yourself compressed against the wall. “I was scared, Y/N.” He says softly, and you feel his hand reach up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his gentleness was something you never saw in him. “You know what it feels like to be scared, don’t you?” You only nod, you try to speak but your lips only part before his thumb rests on your face, gently stroking your cheek as he leaned in closer, trying to coax you to just look into his eyes for once, and to get rid of your fears of him.

So you do.

Your eyes meet his and both of you lock. Your heart skips a beat as you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you close and flush against his body and his forehead rests on you. “I’m sorry…” He whispers, hurt in his voice.

Did he just apologise?

All these years, your father and so many other people have made him up to be a monster but he just apologised to you. But for What? He didn’t do anything wrong.

“Why are you sorry…?” You say finally, and you feel his arms wrap around you more protectively.

“I just…” He sighs. “When your dad gave me the mission to protect you…” Protect me? That’s not why he was given the mission… “I wasn’t happy about it. Not because I don’t like you, but because I was scared you wouldn’t like me.” He says, gently letting go of you, then he holds your face in his hands and stares into your eyes. “I know everything that people say about me. Some are brave enough to say shit to my face, but others prefer to fear me behind a phone or a computer.” He begins to gently stroke your cheek again, and you realise its a comfort method of his. “I might seem like it doesn’t phase me, but it does. It really does, Y/N. So I took the job in hopes that at least one person wouldn’t see me as a monster. I was hoping we could even get along.”

“Barnes.” You interrupt. “You are not a monster. Hydra is. And I know they are, I’ve experienced it myself, but you’ve gone through so much worse.” You gently pull his hands off of your face and hold his hands in yours. “I don’t know you as the Winter Soldier Barnes. As a matter of fact, I’ve looked up to you ever since you joined the team. You’re my role model, I used to dress up as you for halloween for fucks sake.” You chuckle, recalling your costume from last year that you’d perfectly tailored to your size, and you see a smile creep up onto his face. “You’re not a monster, and anyone who says you are, haven't met you. You’re misunderstood, and that's it. But I want you to explain something to me.”

“What?” He asks, his voice so soft you might start crying yourself.

“What do you mean you were assigned to protect me? On my assignment it says you’re only my driver.” You watch as his face contorts into confusion.

“If you needed a driver then they would’ve assigned you with someone else… Not me, I’m not a professional driver.”

“Exactly, that’s weird.”

“Who assigned the mission?” You ask, then you both let go of each other as he reaches for his bag, pulling out a printed paper slip with every mission detail.

You both examined it. Your eyes peeled on who assigned the mission and what his mission details were.

“Why would Rogers assign me with you? He never creates anything but when he does it’s this?” Barnes remains quiet. He knows exactly why.

“Hey… Y/N?”

“Yea?” You watch as he shoves his mission slip back into his bag, most likely crumpling it.

“You really don’t see me as a monster?”

“No, of course not. I think you're actually kinda cute. Just misunderstood.” You tell him again, as honestly as you could.

Then he walks closer to you, your arms crossed loosely over your middle as his hands reach up and gently cups your cheeks before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. And you feel yourself explode.

His lips explore yours, softly and with care at first but then he becomes more hungry as his hands find their way around your waist and one of his hands cup your ass, pulling you up closer to him as you hold the back of his head. What the fuck are you doing? You think as his lips trail down to your neck, lightly biting your skin and he gently hooks his hand behind your knee as he lifts your leg to hang over his hip, your centre now against the growing bulge in his pants. The pink pants and suit that he still hasn’t taken off.

You reach up, easily undoing his tie and unbuttoning his suit and then he continues to kiss you, pushing you gently against the wall as his hands reach up behind you to unclasp your bra and he left it fall from your top as he brings his hands up to gently massage your breasts, drawing moans from your lips.

Your hands find their way into his hair, pulling gently as he begins to remove your clothes, tossing your top to the side before quickly removing your pants and panties, leaving you completely exposed. Not long after did you begin to remove his clothes, working until you were skin against skin, but the only thing that ran through your mind was dad would kill me if he found out I was about to fuck the Barnes of people.

“Fuck I need you.” He groans, lifting you to gently lay you down on the couch before making his way between your legs, but just before he’s about to pound into you.

“Wait!” You shout suddenly. “Do you at least have a condom?”

“We don’t need one, it’s fine.” He argues, but before you can argue back, he’s already inside of you. He still for a moment, savouring the feeling of being inside of you, and your legs wrap loosely around his waist like a koala. “Fuck…” He growls, then he begins to move inside of you. Slowly at first, but then his pace picks up until the couch is basically rocking, and part of you feels bad for whomever is below you, but the rest of you feels amazing. It’s total ecstasy and probably the best feeling sex you’ve ever had as your eyes are already rolling because he pounds into you like it's the best feeling he’s ever had.

With your legs wrapped around his waist and a growing feeling in your stomach, you gasp and moan as he moves so he's able to wrap his metal fingers of his vibranium hand around your throat, squeezing just enough for it to feel amazing. As he reaches between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit, you feel your stomach tighten and he groans as you tighten around his cock.

“Fuck…” He groans, then you both cum. The best orgasm you’ve had in your life as he spills inside of you and you clench around him, milking every drop of his cum.

Pt2

#marvel #marvel smut #smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky #james barnes #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #tony stark #steve rogers #x reader

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misanthropologymajor · 2 days

Text

buggin' out (part 2)

plagas!leon x partner!fem!reader

So you've found the President's daughter-- now what?

warnings: parasitic infections, descriptive violence, slow burn, anxious reader, lots of euphemisms for killing, awkwardly written combat, animal death, dog bite, slow building las plagas infections, crossposted on ao3

part one

feedback is appreciated :)

wc: 2.1k

The Merchant greets your trio as you return to the village square. “I ‘ave somethin’ I think you’ll like.” He glints the silver blade of a folding knife toward you. “Could be useful.”

You think for a second before opening the outside pocket of your waist pouch. “Ashley, why don’t we get you this to keep in your boot? Just in case?” You hand the Merchant his asking price before handing Ashley her new steel and juniper navaja, a sturdy antique pocket knife.

She tucks it into her right boot before brushing an errant cobweb off the hem of her skirt. “Can we take a break?”

“Sorry, we need to keep moving.” Leon walks past the Merchant and enters the town hall. He keeps his hand on his holster as he walks past the flickering flame of the last lit lantern.

Ashley gives a brief, “Got it.”

You grab her hand to squeeze it briefly as you try to encourage her to keep going. “You should have seen me in Raccoon City. After I got licked in the face by a mutated zombie, I made Leon give me five minutes to cool off. You’re doing better than I was.”

“Wait, you two were there for Raccoon City? How did you get out?” Ashley nearly stopped dead in her tracks, but you pulled her along with your clasped hands.

“We had some help getting to an underground train below Umbrella’s lab. We made it out with a girl around our age, Claire, and a little girl named Sherry. In the end, we really just got lucky.”

Leon coughs a bit before speaking, “We don’t have time to talk about R.C. If you really wanna know, wait for the chopper.” He wipes the corner of his mouth as he walks past the mantlepiece portrait.

He continues forward, pushing the door open to reveal the downed bell tower. A man begins climbing through the smashed window of the nearest house. Leon takes aim and shoots him in the head twice before he can fully get outside. An elderly woman in a black bandana shoves his body the rest of the way out of the window frame before climbing through herself.

You shoot the woman just as she finds her footing. Holding the next occupants of the room at bay with shots to the torso before you climb over the most recent corpses. A villager attempts to grapple you. Drawing your leather-handled Bowie knife, you sink it into the soft spot above his clavicle. He drops dead as you return your knife to its sheath. You shoot the final man in the room as Leon helps Ashley through the window.

You toss a flash grenade into the next room before entering. After shooting one villager lethally, the next two mutate into bladed tentacles. It takes nearly a full clip before the tentacle heads and the other two villagers drop. You look back to Leon and Ashley. Leon’s hair sticks flat to his forehead, and Ashley’s tights have two new snags.

“Let’s keep going. We’ve got to beat this storm.” You shoulder the door open while keeping your gun drawn. Only two humanoids are in your path, but three mutated dogs scramble between them. Leon shoots at the nearest humanoid as you direct your fire at the dogs, snapping their excessive fangs at you. Ashley waits in the doorway.

As Leon finishes the second humanoid, the last dog manages to evade your fire and leaps to tackle you to the ground. You manage to tuck your head to avoid hitting it on the ground, and it ineffectively tries to bite you through your elbow pads. Leon pulls it off of you and uses his knife to dispatch the poor mutated canine. As the dog lies limp, you pull yourself up to a seated position, allowing Leon to help you to your feet.

You check under your elbow pads to ensure that the dog had not been able to cause damage through your protective equipment. Leon grabs your arm to check, as well.

When you’re cleared, Leon leads off to the pickup location via the farm and stables. You gesture for Ashley to go before you with an over-dramatic hand gesture before finally following.

One male villager blocks the path forward. Unfortunately for him, he does not see or hear your approach and is facing away. Leon uses his knife to quietly remove him from the situation. He continues his approach to the heavy gate, the final barrier to the farm. Leon’s forearm and shoulders flex as he pushes the door open.

Quiet voices float through the air over the dilapidated shack you pull Ashley into. Leon continues to slink around the shack. You lean in close and whisper, “Pull out your knife. Only use it if someone tries to grab you. Be careful.”

As Ashley draws her knife, you walk out with your own gun and knife ready and see an old woman catch sight of Leon. You shoot her in the chest twice as the other villagers move toward the commotion. Ashley clutches her new knife close, yet stays tucked behind you as you fire into the crowd of disgruntled mutant farmers.

The villagers part to allow a larger bull-masked man to spiral through, propelled by the weight of a large hammer. Leon barely avoids his attack and you reach for the shotgun holstered on your back. You move toward the beast to fire your first shot into his chest. He stumbles, allowing Leon to shoot him, too. Another blast from your shotgun pushes his lifeless body to the ground as Leon uses his own shotgun to kill two smaller villagers in one shot. Ashley squeals at a villager who approaches her but manages to push her knife deep enough into his torso to pause him. His momentary stop allows you to grab him from behind and thrust your own knife into his throat.

As you remove and wipe Ashley’s knife off on your pants, Leon uses his handgun to finish off the last of the villagers in this area.

You return Ashley’s knife while voices approach from the village center. Leon leads you through the next set of gates and onto the suspension bridge. Villagers are approaching from behind and from the path to your right while a distinctly conscious voice rings out. The house directly in front of you, which you had barely even noticed until this point, holds a man you recognize from Leon’s earlier short-term abduction. A large gated fence surrounds the modest home.

“Hey! Over here, come on!” Finding the only option, Leon starts running, shortly followed by Ashley.

You bring up the rear, and as you run into the house, Leon slams the door closed and barricades it with a large piece of metal. Leon turns on his heel and approaches the mystery man. “You!”

“Hey, listen, about earlier, I–”

“Yeah, about that…” Leon winds up a punch while you consider pulling his arm back. Before you can stop Leon’s attack, the strange man speaks up.

“Hey! I see you found your ‘missing señorita!’” The man looks between both you and Ashley before returning his gaze to Leon.

“This ‘señorita’ has a name, and it’s Ashley. And you are?”

You quickly give your own name before the man can introduce himself.

“Name’s Luis. Encantado.”

“Great. We all have names.Now then—Who are you? And what're you doing here?”

A crack resounds from where the gate had been. You notice the bookcase near a window across the left side room and run over to push it in front of the window. Leon and Luis move a dresser to hide Ashley in the cavity behind it. A villager breaks through the window between your window and the stairs.

You are nearly done pushing the bookcase in front of the window when Leon shoots right behind you. The villager had gotten much closer than you’d realized, and Leon took him down right before he got the chance to grab you.

“Hordes of them against the three of us. Oh, and let’s not forget– this mob is made up of monsters! You two done warming up? Hope you stretched!” Luis aims his revolver at the window nearest Ashley’s alcove, and you notice a few loose boards in the table behind him. A hammer and several long nails rest on the more stable portion of the table. As Luis and Leon guard the two open windows, you can hear the creaking of wood from the destruction of your bookcase.

With one foot on a chair and the other on the inside of the table, you begin to prise thick wooden boards from the old table. Leon and Luis kill at least ten villagers as you pull the third board from the table. You grab the boards, hammer, and nails and rush toward Luis’s window. Telling him to switch to the failing bookcase, you hold the board with your torso, the nail with one hand, and use the hammer with your other hand in order to form a more permanent barricade on this window. Luis’s remarks to Leon are drowned out by your repeated hammering and focus on building your barricade. Four more villagers, two being tentacled, are brought down in the time it takes you to get one board fully in place and another partially secured.

The final nail enters your first barricade, and you shoot a tentacled head before it can stab Leon. You return to the table and pry another board out to give you enough boards for your next barricade. You send Luis to Leon’s window, and Leon takes it upon himself to grab more boards. Using a similar method, you manage to halve the time spent forming a blockade on this second window.

A crash echoes from upstairs while Leon pulls the final board you need out. Luis rushes up, and Leon gives you the boards before following the Spaniard. The final window blockade is just completed as a dull and deep noise echoes from the middle barricade.

You barely make it up to the landing when another bull-masked man busts through your hard work. “You have to be kidding me! Heads up, one big guy coming from downstairs.”

Before Leon or Luis can heed your warning, a door right behind you slams open. You just barely stop yourself from stabbing Ashley in your shock. “This way, hurry!” Ashley calls to Leon and Luis.

The door leads to an elevated wooden path. Several villagers pursue you as you rush past a gate. Leon turns his aim to the gin wheel securing the gate, and fires, crushing the nearest villager. The thick log gate blocks the rest.

Luis leans on the nearest wall to pant as Ashley stumbles into the other wall beside you. She lets out a few deep coughs and a crimson splatter lands on her hand. “What’s happening to me?” You use one arm to hold her shoulders while searching your pack for something to clean her hand with.

Luis walks up and grabs her hand. “Ashley, is this the first time you’ve coughed up blood like this?” She nods.

“You want to start explaining?” Leon’s voice and steps forward hold a threatening undercurrent.

“The cough, the blood, it’s caused by something called a… ‘plaga.’” He pauses, pacing. “Okay, you saw those ‘people,’ right? Well, you have the same thing inside of you. The same thing that made them like that. This, what you’re experiencing, these symptoms, they’re only the beginning.”

“I don’t want to become like them.” At the end of her sentence, Ashley inhaled sharply and began to tremble. You wiped her hand clean with a bandana and scanned her exposed skin for other symptoms. Luis paces away from you, Ashley, and Leon.

“You are, well, lucky. You see, at this early stage, the parasite– the plaga, it is possible to remove it,” Luis paused for a fraction of a second. “With a surgical procedure. All you need is some know-how. And, oh yeah– the right equipment.” With his last sentence, Luis turns on his heel to reveal a jagged scar running diagonally from the middle of his left clavicle to his mid-sternum.

Unlike you or Ashley, Leon doesn’t make an audible noise of surprise. “Wait, you too?”

Luis releases the front placket of his shirt to address you. “No worries. See, I have a plan. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Leon looks between you and Ashley. You barely nod to him, and he more confidently nods to Luis.

“Great! We’re partners, then.” He begins to stride away.

“Hey, why are you–” Leon is cut off.

“No time for questions, the clock is ticking.”

“Luis, why are you helping us?” You call through the pouring rain.

“Because it makes me feel better. Let’s leave it at that. I will contact you later.”

The Spaniard walks into the rain and out of your lines of sight.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4

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hiemaldesirae · 3 days

Text

picked up this book called 'murder your employee: the mcmasters guide to homicide vol 1' from my local bookstore and . Hmmm. am i hearing murder academy radiostatic au... (<- delusional)

quick rundown of the books setting (time period vaguely 1950s, before 1962 at the latest) is that there's this murder academy (i say that but its closer to a uni than a boarding school which is typically what i think of when i read academy) open to applicants of all ages to train their students to murder. the admissions fee is an extremely high price, but regular people can enter in via sponsorships (like scholarships, sort of, but its more like a specific rich person sponsoring the candidate). the students don't operate on a regular year by year schedule because 1) no one knows where the school is and thus cannot always tell even what season it is much less the month 2) students are informed of their graduation basically the day of, when the faculty decides theyre ready to leave and complete their thesis project (AKA the murder). anyway its a very fun book and so of course i had to be insane about its premise

For what it was worth, Alastor hadn't meant at all to end up studying at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners.

Which, in fairness, was just a fancier way of saying that he hadn't meant to get caught.

It had been a situation entirely out of his control. For whatever reason, that night, the swamp had been especially difficult to navigate- even alone, much less with a bloodied and battered body slung over his shoulder, he's quite certain it would have been a struggle to work his way around the place. And while that had never been a problem the few dozen or so times he'd made the trek before (granted, they were without the actual body in his hands, but it didn't make much of a difference when he'd been carrying heavy sacks of sand to offset the weight), there was an unfortunate caveat in his plan.

He hadn't banked on being seen and followed by a truly infuriating pair of 'detectives' (though surely whatever idea they'd held of a detective was truly and fully siphoned from one of those insipid moving pictures his dear Mimzy was ever so obsessed with), and he hadn't expected to be offered a spot as a student at this... interesting facility.

The smiley man sitting in front of him nods emphatically as Alastor finishes his little cajoling speech. The nametag on his black and red suitjacket reads Dean Morningstar, and a half-poured cup of brandy sits on the side of his table. Alastor eyes the alcohol with interest, if only because looking anywhere else in the room might make him lose composure and attack the bothersome man sitting across from him.

"So, then... Mr. Hartfelt, is it true that your next target was to be your father?"

Alastor narrows his eyes at the dean. The room's atmosphere seems to drop as he holds his gaze, both of them wearing smiles that convey vastly different emotions. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Of course, such a lousy comeback isn't tantamount to a proper argument (unless you're the type who enjoys messing with people, which Alastor is in all moments except this one) and the dean smiles when he realizes Alastor's slip up.

"See, you have an extremely generous patron backing you on your goal... not only to take down your father, who, by the way, seems to owe you quite a lot, considering your less than stellar upbringing and childhood, so good luck with that one, but also in relation to the other bodies that have been found half-submerged in the swamp." The little devil smiles merrily. "Sorry about that one, by the way. But we had to be sure you were a good candidate for our very highly revered course list. I mean... your sponsor is paying a lot of money to see you succeed, so... we had to be pretty thorough. Again, sorry, but it's just standard protocol."

Alastor clenches his jaw, feeling his eye twitch. He'd more or less tuned out whatever else Dean Morningstar had said after he admitted to resurfacing the already weeks old bodies in the swamp- Alastor's very first targets- as a means of... assessing him, apparently. "So you're the reason the bodies have started turning up in the bayou...?"

"Not entirely," Dean Morningstar shrugs, providing no further context. "In any case, this is sort-of a caught with pants down situation, I think. You don't have many options, Mr. Hartfelt. Either you stay as a student, or we let the truth out- and let your mother know first, before getting rid of you."

He grins sunnily at Alastor. "What will it be, young man?"

So, that was that.

Following that conversation (blackmailing session) Alastor finds himself being the unwitting recipient of a campus guide by the dean himself, who, despite his short stature and seemingly accomodating personality, had already managed to make himself an enemy in the form of one (1) incredibly vexed young radio host slash serial killer in the making.

"...And that's the Music Hall, where my vice-dean and most beloved wife holds her concerts and lectures on Murder, as a Fine Arts- you may notice the ingenious references there to one Mr. Thomas De Quincey, the famed opium eater of the 1800s London..." Alastor turns a blind eye to the dean as the man just kept on talking, choosing instead to focus on the surroundings instead of the urge to strangle the annoyance beside him.

The trip to the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners- a mouthful and an incredibly unnecessary one at that- had been less a trip to a school and more like a kidnapping, in which Alastor had been more or less blackmailed into going with the two detectives who'd found him in the bayou that day and then drugged to high hell from some sort of tampered liquor, then promptly deposited in front of the school gates and almost fed broken glass twice before nearly being poisoned and then having to sit through another blackmailing session with the Dean (the guy who'd tried to poison him in the first place). So... all in all, a rather unpleasant experience on his end.

Still, the scenery almost made up for it.

The campus was almost the size of his town back home, and towering gothic buildings from before his time populated the grounds. Signs in different languages were littered around the campus grounds, and exotic foliage grew in just the right places to make the patchwork of cobbled streets and oddly vintage buildings look uniform.

"Oh, Vox! How are you this afternoon?"

Alastor's attention is drawn back to the dean as the man greets a young man dressed in formal evening attire, complete with a pocket square boutonniere and sleek black gloves. The man in question has short-ish black hair, tied back into a small ponytail with a deep blue ribbon, and two striking eyes: one a glassy larimar blue and the other the deep brown of axinite gems. Alastor finds himself regarding the other while he and the dean make simple conversation. Something about him strikes him as familiar, though he can't quite put a finger on it exactly. "Going to the Music Hall, I presume?"

"That would be correct, Sir," Vox inclines his head respectfully. "Professor Leviathan asked us to dress for the occasion, since we would be doing another ballroom class."

"Ballroom class?" Alastor raises an eyebrow, and the man startles, seemingly not having noticed he was there. Rather inept for an assassin-to-be, Alastor frowns. Were these really the sorts of students they were training? Pretty-faced civilians knowing nothing of killing, who dressed up in evening gather for afternoon classes?

"A-ah, yes..." Vox looks off to the side, seemingly nervous. His cheeks redden slightly, like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. "Uh. You're new here, right? I haven't seen you around before..."

"He is," Dean Morningstar confirms, beaming. "Just arrived this morning, with a very generous sponsor backing him. In fact, he's going to be rooming at Pride House because of the sponsor!"

"Oh, is that so?"

Vox's easy confidence seems to come back to him as he turns to Alastor, seemingly mollified by the Dean's interference. Something inside of Alastor wants to see the man nervous again, if only because the uneasy approach of the man with the gemstone eyes reminded him of the shaky-footed does he would fake out during hunts. "Well, in that case, we might be roommates. It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Hartfelt. Alastor Hartfelt," Dean Morningstar says before Alastor can introduce himself, smiling even when Alastor directs a glare at the man. "He's quite the upstart, I'll have you know- Hell, I think he may have set more fires on his first day here than you did!"

Vox chuckles awkwardly, a reaction that has Alastor's eyebrows raising with curiosity. "Well, I'd sure hope not. I really wouldn't want to cause Professor Leviathan any more trouble than we already have. He deserves a bit of a break from troublemakers like us, I'd say."

While Alastor is... okay, not really all that sure what exactly Dean Morningstar was referring to with 'fires started'- in his case, they were all non literal, considering his first arrival here had ended with him on the wrong end of a shotgun (its irony was not lost to him now, three hours later and standing in the middle of what looked to be a town square plucked straight out of Vienna's bustling populace despite the fact that they were in a location completely unknown to the rest of the world)... but whatever this man had done... it intrigued him, especially given Vox's reaction to it.

"Anyway..." Vox smiles once more, inclining his head in a bow. "I really do have to get going now. If I don't, I'm afraid I may be late, and Professor Asmodeus always picks on the latecomers to answer questions first."

"Ah, we won't keep you any longer, then," Dean Morningstar agrees genially. "Have a good afternoon, Mister Vanhal!"

"You too, Dean Morningstar, Mister Hartfelt," Vox bows once more, before turning off and heading in the direction of the Music Hall. Alastor regards the other man's retreating silhouette carefully.

"Is there something you want to say, young man?" Dean Morningstar snaps him out of his reverie, covering the faint smirk on his face with a gloved hand.

While Alastor wishes he could simply meet the other with simple derision, there is a question he had been meaning to ask. "What was the evening get up for?"

Dean Morningstar shrugs, but there's a glint of something Alastor doesn't quite like in his eyes. "Why don't you go and ask Vox yourself, if you're so interested?"

"...I'm surprised your staff haven't tried to murder you yet," Alastor responds shortly. He's much too tired and frustrated to entertain the man, and- well, frankly put, his mind is a little distracted at the moment at the thought of the man with the mismatched eyes.

Dean Morningstar laughs. "They're certainly welcome to try, as are you. After all, you're now a student of the Hazbin Instution for Homicide Practitioners- and we pride ourselves on our hands-on, engaging curriculum. Hopefully, your sponsor finds what they're looking for by sending you here."

"Hopefully," Alastor agrees. After all, there's nothing else to say: from here on out, it seems to be do or die.

Student Report written with input and conference from Dean Lucifer Morningstar

Student: Alastor Hartfelt, 29 years old, Sponsor

Sponsor: [REDACTED]

To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt,

Enclosed is a report of your charge's first day at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurances. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners thank you for your interest and your patronage.

Sincerely, Dean Lucifer Morningstar.

#oops i got a bit carried away with this one #ill be honest i originally noticed the book because it sounded like something mk would like #and then i had to purchase it because the cashier didnt have any change for me when i was purchasing the 7 husbands of evelyn hugo . So.#i mean i dont regret it i guess ill just wait for the next volume #btw for anyone interested in why vox dressed in evening wear is for the ballroom dancing occasion + gloves can be used to hide prints #its a rule in the book to always be dressed for the occasion. or well not a rule but like . a general guide for when youre committing murde #also im duly aware of the fact that they call it deleting and not murdering but thats just soooo fucking stupid im not calling it deleting #i am also aware of the fact fhat they are not training serial killers at mcmasters but this is hazbin and u know what #they Can train serial killers. as a treat #ran rambles #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #chai writes #the hazbin institution for homicide practitioners

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orphicdreamers-wp · 16 hours

Text

Mustang Or Me — Jack Hughes

Summary; you and Jack break up and you head back home.

Content Warnings; angst, breakup, based on ‘mustang or me’ by megan moroney

I packed up my two-door Ford. He don’t love me anymore.

You stare at Jack defeatedly as you stood in the kitchen of your shared apartment , “So you just don’t love me anymore? After 2 and a half years of this you just stop?” Jack looked at you with a sad look on his face, “I’m sorry. God you don’t know how sorry I am.” You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Jack. I’m gonna pack my stuff and drive back to Pittsburgh.”

Within an hour and a half the past two years of your life were packed up in a boxes in your old beat down mustang. You smiled sadly as you hugged Luke warmly, “Call me man. I’m gonna miss you.” Luke nodded as he hugged you, “I really wanted you to be my sister.” You hugged him back as you stayed silent. You got in your car and dialed your moms phone number, “Hi mommy. Yeah. I’m okay. I’m just coming home. For good. Okay.”

I cursed his name down 65. Need new brakes and new tires. Hell I’m tired.

You groaned as your car drifted slightly into the right lane of the road, “Damn it Jack!” You smacked the steering wheel as you forced the wheel straight. Jack had been on your ass about getting new tires, kept saying it was dangerous that your car drifted because of the cars. You knew he was right but you were too stubborn to listen to him, and you were currently wishing you did.

You also needed new brakes and you had been meaning to get them changed. You had just been so tired lately. You hated fighting with Jack because it made you just so drained and tired. You were just tired of it all. The drama, the stupid fights and feeling invalidated. You were just so tired.

Two years down the drain, two hundred thousand on the gauge.

You sighed as you continued your drive out of Jersey. The ‘Welcome To Delaware’ sign felt like a slap to the face. In the two years you’d been with Jack you saw that sign a handful of times. You two had taken a handful of weekend trips to a ski lodge in upstate Delaware. Two years of your life down the drain haunted you. Almost at much as your car mileage. Two hundred and fifty thousand miles. You shook your head as you were left in silence of your thoughts and the cars passing you.

A broken tail light, a broken heart. How’d we even get this far.

You hadn’t realized how far you had gotten until you saw the flashing red and blue light behind you. You pulled to the side of the dark country road as a police officer approached your vehicle. The man seemed to notice you were on the brink of breaking down, “Good evening ma’am. Do you know why I stopped you?” You tan a hand over your face, “No I’m sorry. I don’t even know where I am honestly. I’m heading to Pittsburgh.” The man nodded, “ You’re in Port Royal Virgina. A little out from Fredicksburg. You have a broken taillight that’s why I pulled you over.”

You sighed sadly, “I’m sorry officer. How much is my ticket?” The officer’s face softened as he took in your current state, “Don’t worry about it. Just get to Pittsburgh safely honey.” You sighed sadly as he walked away, your chest aching like someone had yanked your heart out of your chest.

I’m fighting back tears running on E. Who’s gonna break down first? This mustang or me.

You continued your drive and groaned as you saw the gas tank was hovering on the empty line. It was inevitable that your car would break down. You just hoped it would hold out until Pittsburgh.

A stranger asked if I was okay. Laughed it off said no what gave it away? Was it the leaking oil or the loneliness on my face.

You entered some gas station in the middle of a tiny town in Virginia. You grabbed a energy drink and a bag of chips before heading to the line. An older lady in front of you frowned at your sad expression, “Honey are you okay?” You shook your head with a small laugh, “No, how could you tell?” The woman smiled softly, “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” You smiled sadly, “Just moving home after a breakup.” The woman smiled and hugged you softly, “I’m sorry honey.”

I thought I was gonna make it home,but I heard our song on the radio.

You shook the memory of Jack out of your head as you turned up the radio as loud as possible. You hummed along as ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman was playing. Your head was finally cleared when the song concluded and the next song played.

Who’s if gonna be? I’d put all my money on me.

You pulled your car to the shoulder of the interstate. shutting it off as sobs wracked through your body. You hadn’t cried about the relationship ending until now. You weren’t naïve in any way but you had always thought you and Jack would be together forever. You didn’t anticipate a breakup or Jack losing feelings for you.

#fanfic #hockey player x reader #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x you

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cranberry-writes · 2 days

Note

hey!! can i pls rq for more hughie x reader content?? there isn't much on here and i think we need to fix that

Occupation

Hughie x Reader

Genre; Mild angst but it’s all good at the end

Warnings; Cannon typical violence, language, talk of killing and mild spoilers for the first episode

This is a build from my Dating the Boys head-cannons, at the end of Hughies section i mention that reader would find out about his ‘job’ like two days after asking and getting nothing as a response. Also the scenario I used i completely made up, please bear with me i’m only partly on season 2.

Uhhhhhggg i may have lightly chopped the ending up ill fix it later

also yeeesssss a request! i love requests!!!!

Synopsis; A few days after asking your boyfriend what he does for work and getting nothing for an answer, you accidentally find out his occupation in a way neither of you wanted.

You’re not sure what compelled you to ask Hughie what he did for work, maybe it was the strange hours he worked, or the fact he got hurt regularly, maybe it was but just good old fashioned curiosity that led you to asking him.

“So what do you do for work babe?”

The way he froze should have been enough of a sign that something was wrong, that you should have pushed him harder or asked more questions. But you didn’t, you just thought it was humorous in the moment.

His demeanor changed quickly, relaxed and focused on his phone to anxiously trying to look anywhere besides you. “I- well, I’m a tech guy? Like I don’t work for a tech company but I’m the tech guy, I work on tech stuff, it’s super boring you don’t want to hear about it.” He ended the rambling explanation with a forced chuckle

“So what do you want to do about dinner? We could go to that new Korean restaurant.” Glancing over to the clock you saw it was only 4, but decided to just play along. He didn’t have to tell you if he didn’t want to, you were sure there was a good reason, maybe he did something like a male striper and was embarrassed.

4 days later and a male striper would have been a dream scenario compared to this.

—

You didn’t mean to see him, or the rest of them. You were just running some errands and wanted to make a stop at a new store, taking a short cut through an older part of town that you were sure was abandoned.

You turned the corner and saw him, it took you a moment to recognize him because he was completely drenched in blood. You’re mind forced you into panic mode, you looked at the people he was with, none where familiar except for a taller gruff looking man. Wasn’t he the guy that was on the news for killing Stillwell?

You moved back to hide behind the corner you just turned, suddenly very aware of how loud your breath was and how heavy the bags in your hands were. Slowly placing them on the ground and moving your hands to cover your mouth, you stayed as still as you could. You could hear them moving and talking from around the corner as thousand thoughts running through your head.

‘Is this his job? Does he kill people?’

‘Oh god, if he gets caught could i get in trouble??’

Then finally, the loudest thought drained the rest of them out

‘wasn’t Homelander, the Homelander after that Butcher guy?’

That thought managed to turn into cement inside your head, what if Homelander was after Hughie too?

“Oh shit.”

The words, while still quiet, left your mouth faster than you could stop them. You stoped your breathing as you heard Hughie and the others stop talking, after a moment you could hear a pair of foot steps approaching where you hid.

Before you could run or scream or anything, a pair a rough hands where holding you against the wall, you grabbed and scratched at them desperately. “Please! I won’t tell anyone! I promise!”

Your luck must have completely failed you because Butcher was the one currently strangling you, the one convicted of murdering a single mother, was trying to kill you.

Somehow through the fog of being suffocated and also begging for your life, you could hear your name before being dropped to the dirty concrete floor. Your palms getting scraped harshly against the ground wasn’t even something you registered, you where to busy desperately trying to regain your breath, breathing hard and gasping for any bit of air.

You looked up, seeing Hughie and the asshole who just tried to kill you arguing. You would have been surprised with him arguing with a murderer so passionately, but it had hardly passed your mind at the time. You did manage to notice the other people there, a shorter man with a buzz cut facial hair combo and an asian woman with the prettiest hair you’d seen where staring at you.

You stood up slowly after a moment, looking back at Hughie who had since stoped arguing. “Is this, your job? You work with a murderer?” You gesture vaguely to Butcher, before redirecting your attention back to him.

He looked down, giving you a good view of his now blood red hair. “..I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how. I’m sorry.” “I don’t think anyone wants their boyfriend to tell them that their work involves them getting covered in blood.” Hughie looked down at his clothes as if he hadn’t noticed before.

It took a minute for you to properly regain your self, taking in your surroundings fully, the people around you, the situation.

“Are you even safe? Doing, whatever this is?” He tilted his head up at you, gradually shaking it side to side. “Not always.”

You probably hated asking that question the most, and his answer (while completely expected) scared you. Having a partner who was doing something stupid was something, having one doing something stupid and dangerous was another.

“You won’t die doing this, okay? Tell me, you won’t die.” The words were choppy and tense as you spoke, it probably sounded more of a decree than a request or question, but in reality it was a plea.

“I won’t die doing this.” He took a slight step forward, reaching a hand out in offering. Instead you grabbed him and pulled him into a hug that he reciprocated quickly. The partly dried blood on his clothes made it mildly uncomfortable but you powered through it, desperate for any comfort.

You stayed like that for a moment, savoring the moment. You pulled back and looked at him, making sure to hold his arms tightly. “We will not be talking about this at home, or ever unless your life is in danger. Please.”

Hughie smiled, and you felt calmer. He moved closer and kissed you on the cheek before stepping back “Not a peep, not a single peep.”

#cranberry writes #male reader #reader #x reader #fanfic #gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #the boys x you #the boys x male reader #the boys x reader #the boys x female reader #hughie campbell x reader #reader x hughie #hughie campbell x male reader #the boys hughie #hughie x reader #female reader #gender ambiguous reader

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oswalddclara · 3 days

Text

Moments with you

(in the dimmed light)

Pairing: Penelope Fetherington x Colin Bridgerton

Summary: When Penelope Featherington accepted to be one of Francesca Bridgerton’s bridesmaids, the last thing she expected was for Colin Bridgerton to kiss her. Modern AU.

Chapter 2 is up now.

Word Count: 3002 (5566 total)

Read on Ao3 | Read From Beginning

Hyacinth and Gregory were already outside setting up fairy lights at the front of the house. Their mother wanted the whole estate to sparkle for Francesca and John, much to Francesca's dismay, who had hoped for something more understated.

Violet (and, by extension, Hyacinth) had compromised; a small ceremony with only family and close friends, and then a reception for the wider circle. Francesca and John were fully intending on leaving early.

When the youngest Bridgertons heard the car on the gravel, they turned their heads towards them and Hyacinth almost leaped to the car as it came to a halt.

“Penelope!” She exclaimed and enveloped her in a hug while Gregory waved still holding the fairy lights with one hand. “I'm so glad you're here. Finally someone with sense. Mum and I definitely needed reinforcements.

“I'm glad to see you too, Hyacinth.” Penelope smiled.

“Hyacinth, I think Penelope should be able to leave her things and settle in before you jump at her like,” Colin raised his eyebrows, and Hyacinth rolled hers in response.

“I'm just so excited- Greg!” She suddenly yelped. “The bottom is all wonky!” Then in a lower voice, she said to Penelope, “I'm working with amateurs; it's exhausting.”

“I'll help you in, Pen,” Colin smiled and opened the boot to retrieve her stuff. “I can still take you back to the train station if you want,” he whispered jokingly. “Save yourself.”

“Unfortunately, Francesca and Eloise might never forgive me if I abandon them.”

“I tried to save you,” he smirked complicitly, grabbing her suitcase and putting it gently on the ground.

And it was the intimacy of his gaze that caused Penelope to retreat. She didn’t smile back. Colin frowned.

“Are you well?”

“Yes, I’m fine. And don't worry, I can make my way in.”

Before he could do anything, she grabbed hold of her luggage and disappeared.

“What did you say to her?” Hyacinth accused from afar. Nothing went past her if she had interest.

“Nothing, I-” Colin was stuck in place, confused.

“Right…” Hyacinth eyed him suspiciously.

“Is anybody going to help me with these lights?” Gregory shouted.

Colin went inside and left her youngest siblings fighting over the spacing of the lights.

As he made his way through the hall, he heard Eloise's voice from the study. Colin found his sister writing table names in beautiful cursive on pastel pink paper. Penelope stood across from her, backpack over her shoulder and her left hand holding her small suitcase.

“So yeah, that happened,” Eloise said. She looked down at the paper with a frown before Penelope could react to whatever she said. “I don’t think I can write the seating plan yet again.”

“Complaining again, Eloise?” Colin folded his arms leaning against the frame of the door with a smirk.

Penelope seemed to tense when he spoke, grabbing her suitcase a little bit tighter.

“I’ve had to re-do two of the tables already,” his sister lamented. “She keeps changing her mind about where Ms Danbury should sit.” She narrowed her eyes at Colin, “How about you do it?”

“My writing is atrocious.”

“That’s not true,” Penelope remarked and Eloise gave her a cynical look. “I have seen your writing in birthday cards and stuff, it’s fine,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, ‘fine’,” Colin agreed with her with a small smile, happy that he had received praise from the person who was angry at him for unknown reasons. She was a smart and honest person, she didn't say things she didn't mean. “Definitely not as good as Eloise’s.”

“No one is as good as mine, apparently, so I’m stuck with this. Of all the skills I've learnt, which are not many, the most useless one stuck.”

“Not useless now, ” Penelope pointed out.

“Oh!” Colin exclaimed. “Very good point, Pen,” he smiled with mischief.

“You know what,” Eloise stood up unexpectedly, “I think I deserve a break now. Come on, Pen, I'll go with you to your room,” his sister gave him her best unimpressed stare as they left the room. Penelope looked ahead and didn't meet his eyes.

So Colin made his way back out to the garden where he had left his family before going to pick up her sister's best friend. They were all still on putting fairy lights on, which seemed to be a never-ending task, but his mum thought it was better if he got started putting together the tables in the marquee.

To fit the many guests coming after the ceremony, the marquee was large to hold the nine tables and a dance floor as well as a DJ booth and a couple of extra tables where coffee and tea would be served after the meal. He thought it was unconventional to have so many joining them after the main event but he understood Francesca wanted that moment of love to be intimate. Now, the space was eerily quiet with only the voices of his family coming in muffled through the plastic.

Colin looked around gauging the amount of work and the time it would take.

Once he got into the flow, it was surprisingly fast to fasten the legs. It was helpful to have something to do and blank his mind to concentrate on the manual work. Before he knew it, he was on the last table, and that's when he heard the rustling of the marquee’s plastic signalling someone coming in. He peered over the table he was working on and saw Penelope’s surprised expression when she realised he was there.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a wide smile, “coming to help?”

“Yeah.” She smiled tightly and pointed behind him. “Chairs.”

He turned around briefly, clocking the stacks of chairs a few feet behind.

“I’m almost done with the tables, so I can help you. Teamwork makes the dream work.” He joked.

Penelope barely smiled back and made her way towards chairs. Each stack had six chairs and was just about tall enough to be a challenge for her height.

As Penelope moved through the task, he stole glances at her, which distracted him from his own responsibility. He was so confused. They had shared a moment in the car, and now she was annoyed. No, angry even. What could he have possibly done in the space of ten minutes?

He noticed her struggling with a new pile. This one had eight chairs, which made it taller than the rest. Silently, Penelope attempted to shimmy the highest chair out of place with an unsteady grip. Colin moved quickly to stand

behind her and grab the chair before it could tumble down. But his hands were on top of hers, and he could feel her warmth.

Conscious of their position, he moved his hands away to have a better grip on the chair and set it down.

She turned around and looked at him surprised. He smiled shyly in return.

“I had it under control.”

He thought of making a witty remark, but all that came out was, “I thought I could help.”

“Thanks.” Her voice was small.

Her lips parted as if to say something more, causing him to focus his gaze on them. He waited but whatever she was going to say died before she uttered any words. The moment was broken and Penelope closed her mouth firmly and yanked the chair from him.

“Penelope,” he said, “are we okay?”

“We are fine,” she walked towards the next table.

“I haven't seen you or heard from you in months,” He said. “I always look forward to your messages, more than anybody else's. I missed you.”

“You missed me.” She smiled with a hint of mock in her eyes. “You miss me but you would never sleep with me.”

“What?”

“I heard you.” She interrupted him. “At your last little leaving do. How you would never have sex with me.” Penelope spit out.

“You heard?”

Continue on Ao3 | Read From Beginning

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #polin fanfic #polin fanfiction #polin ff #penelope x colin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #my writing #my fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hopefully it doesnt suck and you like it #i havent written in many years and multichapters are so challenging for me #i never finish them *cries*#but not this time!!! im commited and im proving a point to myself

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riniworld · 1 day

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Can you please make a part 2 of the Heart Stealer? Its okah tho if you don't want to! It was just a really good story!

Have a nice day and don't forget to drink water!

heart stealer pt.2

yandere!crown prince oc (emperor) x maid!reader

warnings|| sexual harassment,blood,stabbing, swearing, very very rush at the end.

reference|| you,y/n, she/her.

a/n|| blame c.ai for this fic, i never imagined I'll write a sexual harassment in my life

++ I'm really happy that alot of people liked the previous part! and thank you for requesting,i never would have completed it without your motivation!

(p.1)

the past three days went awkwardly, everyone started to treat you not just better, but in a respect that started to feel uncomfortable, as well as your parents worried questions.

taron start to get more clingy,you admit that he's charming and getting his attention is everyone's dream, but he's showering you with expensive gifts that you wouldn't afford in your life, and that makes you feel...weird.

the coronation ceremony came,the traditional events was calm, the servants took this time to rest, but the afterward ball was chaotic,more than twelve servants was there just for serving drinks and you were on of them, who thoughts there was alot of nobles in the world?

taron was talking to a friend from his when he got bored and start looking around for anything to get him out of there,and that when his eyes fell on you as you were giving a drink to someone and smiling...smiling! for someone else! too close!, taron didn't hesitate nor did he think when he charged to your side, in an instant he's in front of you, gripping your arm tightly which caused the tray and the glasses on it to fall to the ground,and scratched your legs.

"what are you doing here?!,to my room!" taron shouted and made everyone look at you two.

"your majesty-" "now!." you pause looking at him with fear, he has never yelled at you not even when you come for the first time.

he grit his teeth in anger and dragged you out of the hall,leaving everyone in confusion.

he didn't care about the scandals nor the rumors that his action might cause, all he think about is taking you away from there, from anyone's watch.

"your majesty, may i know why are you angry at me? what have i done wrong?" you asked, raising your voice because of the pain his grip on your arm causing.

he didn't answer instead kept dragging you along with him, when you reached his room he throws you in,not in an enough force to knock you back, but enough to make you stumble on your feet, he closed the door aggressively behind him and glared at you, before you can utter a word he speak.

"what were you doing there?" he isn't shouting, but his tone holds anger that terrify you.

"i was-i was helping-" "who told you to help?!" he cut you off. "..what-i thought."

"you do not think!, should i carve it in your body?, you are MY maid, MY property, I am the only one who have the right to tell you what to do and where to work, and you are here just for me, your work is to serve me not anyone else!."

you press your lips together and look at the ground, knowing that throwing excuses is pointless, taron sigh in irritate, his eyes darts to your scratched legs and his heart stops,he steps closer to you taking your hands in his, guid you to his bed, sits you on it and takes some bandages from the drawer next to the bed as he kneel down in front of you.

"your majesty!" you put your hands on his shoulders making him glance at you "for the love of god! what are you doing?!"

"you talk alot." he says in annoyance,pushing your hands back,he took your shoes off and began treating the scratches, it wasn't anything big, maybe it bleed a few drops of blood but it's nothing gonna last more than two or three days,but still he was the reason of this, and for what? it wasn't your fault, you're just...naive, in a dangerous world, but you were lucky enough to fall in his hands.

after he finished, he stands up and but the bandage in it's place, you tried to stand up as well but he pushed you back down "you stay here." he said those three words and left you alone.

taron made his way to the throne room,to find it empty,his assistant comes to his side as soon as he enter.

"your majesty" he greets and bow "i thought it would be best to get everyone out of here.", taron nods and sits down on one of the tables" good, you did good." taron says as he sigh.

"by the way, you know that 'noble' that drinks too much, what was his name?" taron asked

"does your royal majesty mean Thomas Hezekiah?"

"yes, this, his name is so difficult."

"may i know why your majesty asks about him?."

"i have an idea....and it is crazy"

you were in the throne room cleaning it, while taron was reviewing papers, it's mostly about complaints from the folks, you think.

someone's knock on the door startled you, taron's assistant came in, he bowed before he speak "your majesty,the one you requested has arrived."

"let him in."

a man dressed in a fine clothes, and alot of gold, enters with a big grin on his face,the man bow his head.

"your majesty requested my present?" the man says.

taron move the papers to the side and gesture to the chair in front of him., when the man sits down, taron motion for you, you left everything in your hand and ran to his side.

"yes, your majesty?"

"hospitalities our guest as he deserves."

you bow your head to the two of them and walked out of the room.

"so, your majesty, may i know why you requested seeing me? not everyday an almighty emperor request seeing a simple noble as me."

"i want you to do me a thing....from your 'work' "

thomas raise an eyebrow "oho? the emperor has some issue?"

"yes or no?..no wait, you do not have a choice here, you will do it."

"i was not planning on refusing, but what will i gain from it?."

before taron could replay you entered pushing a cart that was full of all sort of drinks and sweets, thomas eyes was glued to you as you put the foods and drinks on the table.

"you must be new, i have not seen you around before." thomas says.

you look at taron before answering,seeing as his expressions is calm untill now "yes,i am new,mister.thomas, i believe?"

"and how old are you?."

"turning nineteen soon,sir"

"cut the talk, we have more important matters to talk about." taron says "y/n." he motion for you to come closer to him,you bow to his level "your majesty?"

"in the third drawer next to my bed you will find a dagger, bring it." taron whisper.

dread washes over you at that as you mutter "a-a dagger?"

"you heard, so go bring it." he demanded.

with a deep breath you walk quickly to taron's room, leaving the two to continue their talk.

"so y/n, is it?" thomas says.

"what do you want with it?" at this rate the irritation in taron's tone was clear.

"might be my prize, eh?" thomas grin widened.

"you will do it either way, but to keep good terms between us...i should agree."

"generous emperor, generous." thomas cooed "and like that, it is a deal."

you entred the room holding the dagger to your chest, before you can give it to taron he walks out of the room, pausing just before closing the door to give you a look.

you kept looking at the door for a minute before a voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

"well, dear, how about you come here?" thomas says

"pardon?" you say in confusion.

thomas stands up from his seat and walks to you trapping you between him and the door.

"you're such a beautiful lady, a shame to be wasted right?." his hands went to your waist,but you managed to push him away, not enough for him to fall down but enough to give you time to ooen the door and run away, unfortunately for you he pulls you back before you could take a step away, your head hit the ground hard but you could worry about that later when thomas climbed in top if you and closed the door with his feet.

"hard to get, it will be such joy to see you break." he says.

fear and panic filled you, where is taron? it's impossible for him to leave for him on purpose, when will he return?!

your mind stop when thomas buried his face in your neck, you couldn't think clearly when you stabbed him with taron's dagger on his back, you take it out when thomas screamed and roll away from you,he looked at you in anger "you little bitch!" he shout,you stabbed him again when he take a step closer to you, this time on his chest as he fell on the ground,motionless.

at the same time, taron was panicing in the other room,pacing around.

"what was i thinking, what if she was too scared to do it?! how can i be so sure??."

"please calm down your majesty, I'm sure it will go as you please." his assistant says.

"I will go check on her." taron say as he made his way to the door but before he can go out his assistant stopped him "your majesty, ten more minute, i am sure the plan will go as we want, let us wait." with a groan taron back up and sits back on a chair.

after exactly ten minute, taron charged to the throne room he pushed the door open harshly as he yell your name "Y/N!"

you were on your knees, beside a motionless thomas who's sinking in his blood, your eyes wide with terror as you kept looking at your hands.

taron kneels beside you, he put his arms around your shoulder "y/n, are you okay? look at me." he took your face in his hands making you look at him "are you hurt? nothing of that is your blood right? he did not touch you, did he?." he says quickly without taking a breath.

you nod slightly enough for him to notice, your eyes start tearing up.

taron let out a breath and hugs you "oh god." he helped you to stand up, he kept his arms around you as you two walk together, he stopped for a moment in front of his assistant "take this bastard out of here." he says.

taron lead you to his room, resting you on his bed, when you came to your senses you start crying and sttutering "your-your majesty-i-i do not-" your voice break in sobs.

taron hugs you again and shush you "shhh, it is okay, don't think about it, i am here, no one will be able to hurt you again, never"

a silent fell on the two of you, tarom kept holding you untill you calmed down a bit "we should take you out of here." he says all of a sudden.

"what-?" you say in a broken voice filled with confusion.

"I am sure he did not die,and when-"

"he did not die?!" you cut him off, knowing he didn't die make you ease a bit.

"no, he did not, thatwhat they told me, anyway, if he woke up, he will of course demand to hold a trial, and he will win if he did, before you say, yes i can, of course,prevents this from happening, but then everyone will think they can get away with what they do."

"but your majesty-i-i did not mean to do it, he-he.." before you can complete what you wanted to say he holds your face "i know, that is why I am taking you away, i have a mansion in the forest, I will take you there, you will live there, and i will make sure to have whatever is you need, i will visit you from time to time too." taron explain in a surprising gentle tone.

you didn't have a choice here, leaving your family will be hard, but staying will lead to either your death or trouble for everyone, or your parents death if you think it in another way, so you nod, accepting your fate.

taron smiles "forever mine, to see and to hold." was the only thing on his mind

after all no plan taron mad has ever faild.

"do not worry dear, you will be saver than ever."

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oneshot #yandere imagines #YANDERE #yandere prince

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the-anonmaton · 2 days

Text

Whatever Feels Right

Chapter 2 / 4 - Preliminary

Relationships : Sevika x Reader Characters : Sevika, Original Female Character Rating: Explicit Tags : Kissing, Making Out, Nipple Play, Biting, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Body Worship, Nudity, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Aftercare, Gentle Kissing, Undressing, Licking, Foreplay, First Time, bottom reader, Virgin Reader, Anxiety, Soft Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Angst, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks, Awkward Conversations, Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Chapters : 4 ( 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ) Words : 17,331

Summary:

What about your first time with Sevika?

CONTENT WARNING: This fic is about an inexperienced reader and the need to stop during her first time, since she’s not ready. Chapter 4 is where some second thoughts are expressed and some anxiety-heavy stuff and panic, but Sevika is a thoughtful lover, so everything is fine.

**********

"Okay. Let's go home."

**********

And here you were, back to the place you both called home, in your shared bedroom, both still dressed, you sitting at the edge of the mattress, her walking towards you after discarding her cloak on the floor in the middle of the room.

The walk back to your home was a blur. You couldn't think straight or focus anywhere, let alone at the path you have crossed every day to and from work. You could only rely on the warm hand holding yours and trust it to guide you through the streets. But the only constant thing from the bar to where you were now sitting on the bed was the excitement you felt. You would finally take the next step with the woman you love and you felt so stupid it took you so long. You loved her and wanted to share everything with her.

Once she crossed the room and got to you, she knelt down in front of you, put her hands on either side of your face and made sure to catch your eyes. You never lost track of them. How could you? Your hands flew to her wrists, just holding her, grounding yourself.

"If for a second it doesn't feel right, you tell me. Okay?"

You could only nod. You haven't said a word since you left the bar. You thought that if you did the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be a scream. A good one though. No, the embarrassment would be too much, so you remained silent.

"Words, baby. Please." You felt the hands cupping your face pulling just a little, so she could get your attention and make you focus.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath through your nose, held it and let it out slowly from your mouth. A simple technique that always worked when anxiety tried to get the better of you. But the fact that she was always there, along with the patterns her thumbs were now tracing on your cheeks, managed to calm your nerves and excitement, to make you open your eyes and you finally felt that you could utter a few words.

"Okay."

Fine, it was one word. But she deemed it enough, since she seemed to relax and stood up. But before she let go of your face, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips and you hummed at the gesture.

"I love you, baby." She whispered, her lips ghosting over yours.

"I love you." You answered back with a smile and a trembling voice caused by your excitement.

"Tell me, okay?" She once again asked, and you once again nodded.

**********

You knew Sevika was always aware of her actions and never did anything without some sort of reason. That's what you thought when she started stripping in front you. Of course you’ve seen each other half-naked before. She wasn't particularly shy and she would get ready in the mornings, pop in and out of a bath, or change out of her work clothes into some casual sleepwear without caring if you were in the room with her or not.

You on the other hand were quite conscious of your body, or of her seeing you even in your underwear. So, you would usually turn away to allow her some privacy, or mostly to allow yourself to change without the stress of her accidentally looking over at you. Once she caught up, which was almost instantly after you two got together, she started doing the same so you would feel comfortable and to not overwhelm you.

This thought was going through your mind while she was undressing. She never did anything without a reason. And now she was letting herself be vulnerable in front of you so you would know that it's okay. The thoughtfulness of your girlfriend could make your heart explode and if you could, you would fall in love with her all over again.

There was nothing sexy or seductive about her movements. She was just undressing, occasionally catching your eyes and smiling softly at you. Of course you knew about the muscles underneath her clothes and you always appreciated them whenever you were allowed a glimpse.

So now you were looking mesmerized by the view she was giving you. Her toned abs, her thick thighs, her broad shoulders, her biceps bulging whenever she moved, her blue scars a constellation over her dark skin. You were starting to feel lightheaded and she wasn't even fully naked. You loved her strong body and she knew it, so she would flex every now and then just to hear your sharp intake of breath and then chuckle and wink at you. Thank the gods for her silly little act, at least that would make you relax and take a breath or two.

But your ability to breathe was taken away from you when she finally dropped the last piece of clothing. She was a naked goddess in front of you and you felt so small. You could only sit there at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets, just admiring your girlfriend. While she was undressing you tried to look everywhere you could, but now your only focus was on her breasts. On her full, dark, peaked nipples, on the goosebumps that appeared around them, on some other little scars hidden by her bra, on the full pattern of the blue streaks on her skin. Then your gaze shifted down to the full bush between her legs and you swallowed hard, before looking up and realizing she was moving again.

This time, your nude goddess of a girlfriend was once again in front of you and kneeling. She gently took your hands that were about to put a few holes in the sheets from how hard they were gripping at them and held them in her own, gently stroking the back of them with her thumbs. The sensory contrast between her cold metal and warm flesh would always help you relax whenever she held you like that.

"You okay?" Her soft voice helped you breathe a little easier.

"You're beautiful." You whispered, making her chuckle.

"Come here."

She pulled you up and now that you were both standing, your head was almost at the same height as her breasts and you awkwardly looked up at her, only to find her smiling at you, reassuring you. She guided your right hand to her waist and placed your left one above her right breast, over her collarbone. You had never touched each other so intimately. You felt unsure of what to do and you were certain she could feel the trembling of your hands on her skin.

"It's okay, you can touch, baby."

She was giving you permission. She knew you never had any experiences beyond a few kisses and make-outs with some exes, so now she was letting you explore and see for yourself what you liked. You looked down and tentatively moved the hand that was on her waist towards her stomach, feeling her abs and tracing with your fingers any scars in your path.

"I can flex if you want." In your stupor you didn’t expect to hear anything and you jumped before turning up to face her and see her smirking.

"What?" The buzzing in your ears didn't let you hear her clearly.

"I said, I can flex if you want." She said and she immediately flexed her abs.

The somewhat soft spot on her stomach that you were touching suddenly felt rock hard under your fingers, and you couldn't help but push a little harder, feeling the strong muscle.

"Damn you." You managed with a chuckle, letting both of your hands drop to your sides, while taking half a step back.

"What?" She followed you with half a step forward, the amusement evident in her voice and her smile.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Definitely not. Are you okay?" She took your now clenching hands and held them again, smoothing them open with gentle thumbs.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you okay though? With me touching you?" It seemed that she was doing everything to accommodate you and your nerves, and not caring at all about herself.

"I'm okay, don't worry. Just do what feels right." She said softly and placed your hands to their previous place on her body.

Your little back and forth was enough to calm you down. Once again Sevika had your back and made sure to help you relax, and you loved her for it. Damn, you wanted to give her everything.

And now you were back at it, exploring her body.

You moved your right hand that was once again resting on her waist and slid it down, just below her hip bone, the tips of your fingers touching the side of her ass cheek. You wondered what it would feel like if you slid your hand over her ass and gave a gentle squeeze, but you felt yourself holding your breath and you didn’t dare follow through with that thought. Instead you moved your hand again and went back up her side, stopping when you reached the height of her breasts.

Tentatively, you caressed with a thumb the skin below her left breast, over a rib, and you heard a sharp exhale above you. As much as you wanted to look up at her face to see her reaction, you couldn't. Because your touch caused more goosebumps to appear on her skin, on her breast and around her nipple.

You let your eyes wander over her chest that was right in front of you. Her breasts weren't full or round or perked up. They were on par with a woman of her physique, not small, but not big either, although weighed down by her age and gravity. You could see some faint stretch marks at their sides, a couple hairs just around her areola, a rather big diagonal scar starting over her right breast, where your other hand was now resting, and ending right in the middle of her chest. Finally, your eyes fell to her dark nipples, still looking painfully hardened, and ever so slightly moving with her every breath. You decided that her breasts were just perfect and you had a hard time looking away, or deciding how to proceed.

It must have been a couple of minutes with you just standing there, hands still on her body, before any coherent thought came to your tortured brain and you became aware of your dried mouth. So you licked your lips and tried to swallow, before turning your attention to the hand resting above her right breast, which felt like it was ready to catch fire.

With a feathery touch you glided the tips of your fingers down towards her breast, feeling the softness of it, but stopped right before you touched her raised nipple. Then you used your hand to cup her breast, lifted it up to feel its weight on your palm, gave it a tentative squeeze and you could swear that you heard a sharp inhale above you. But you couldn't look. You only had eyes for what was inches in front of you.

So while cupping her gently, you moved your thumb and dared to slide it over her nipple, right before pressing down on it with a little more force. You saw the frame in front of you expand, a clear sign of her taking a deep breath, and you followed her movement with hungry eyes and a hard swallow. You felt your mouth getting dry once again and the thought of taking that dark nipple into your mouth and sucking at it between your lips crossed your mind. But your nerves got the better of you, maybe you weren't ready for it.

Do whatever feels right.

So instead, your hands left her body, only for you to put them back on her shoulders. Using both hands in a symmetrical motion, you caressed her collarbones before running them up and down her arms, feeling her biceps and the hard muscles underneath. You were thirsty for something and you didn't know how you should proceed, so you looked up, making both of your now dark eyes meet, placed your hands behind Sevika's neck and gave a gentle tug to pull her towards you, a request.

She gladly followed, as she always did, and gave you the kiss you craved. It was slow and soft and reassuring and you pressed a little harder on her neck to hold her there for as long as she would allow. You felt her hands come to your waist, not to move you or bring you closer to her, but just to rest there, a reminder.

After breaking the kiss for some much needed air, you felt her soft raspy voice through the cloud of your mind.

"Can I take this off?" She breathed against your lips and you felt a tug on your shirt.

"Yeah, okay." You breathed out a whisper.

She gave you a quick kiss and pulled back to allow yourselves a little more space to maneuver. She must have been hearing your heart, almost ready to beat out of your chest, because her eyes were glued to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, as her hands gripped the bottom of your shirt.

She gently pulled it up and you raised your arms to help her get rid of it. Once it was off, leaving you with your bra, she dropped it on the floor next to you, covered the distance she had put between you, cradled your face in her hands and kissed you again. You could only stay in place and close your eyes., trembling hands kept at your sides and following her lead. You would always follow her lead when she was kissing you. Your make-out sessions were evident of that and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You felt her pull away again, you felt her breath hitting your forehead and then you felt the absence of her hands on the sides of your face. Not a second later you jumped when her metal hand was placed on your shoulder and a warm one on your waist.

"Is this okay?" You heard her question.

With your eyes still closed you nodded. And then her hand on your waist began to mimic your own patterns when your positions were reversed a few minutes ago. You would swear it felt like hours had passed. Her feathery touch made you take several deep breaths when she reached your hip bone, letting them out of your mouth through stuttering exhales, and when her thumb caressed the skin below your breast, over a rib, you shuddered and felt goosebumps forming all over your body. And now you understood how she must have felt when you did this to her. Were you really able to make her feel this way? Did you have that power?

With her left metal hand still on your shoulder grounding you, she brought the other one to hook a finger through a loop of your jeans. You still hadn't opened your eyes, so you relied on your senses to feel what was happening around you.

"Can I take this off, too?"

As soon as you realized the implications of her question you felt nervous, excitement cursed through your entire body, your heart rate skyrocketed and you clenched your eyelids even tighter.

"Just the pants for now." She softly added.

You caught in her voice her attempt to reassure you that she would take things slow for you, and you were grateful for her looking out. So you nodded. You would always trust her. With your life, with your heart, and now with your body and your anxious self.

"I got you." She added and you felt her presence slowly disappearing, but not gone, only getting smaller as you realized she was kneeling in front of you.

You felt sure hands on your zipper as it was being pulled down, followed by another slight downwards pull, causing your pants to give way and fall on the floor. You swallowed, mouth dry, and you finally opened your eyes and dared to glance down. You were met with soft eyes and a kind lopsided smile, before Sevika's attention turned to your feet to help you get rid of your pants, where they were now pooling.

When your pants were thrown next to your shirt on the floor, she turned back to you. You couldn't deny the feeling of adrenaline caused by your position. Her kneeling naked in front of you and looking up, you above her, in just your underwear and looking down. Your mind was racing and you could only focus on her dark eyes and the shadow she was casting on her breasts.

You saw it before you felt it. Her right hand slowly reaching towards your calf. You tilted your head to the left to follow its movement and when she finally caressed you, you jumped even though you were expecting it. You could feel her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from that hand. It began moving up and down a short path, from knee to ankle, occasionally stroking you with a thumb, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, and you were mesmerized.

Suddenly, in your field of vision you saw a dark movement. It was her, more specifically her hair. She was looking straight ahead, and in her kneeling position she was at your thigh level. So her attention was there and she was moving forward, towards you, towards your thigh. You understood her intent and held your breath and clenched your fists, which now you noticed were already clenched and you were pretty sure that if you were to check you would see little indentations of your nails in your palms. So you stood there, unmoving and waiting.

And then her lips made contact with the top of your thigh, a gentle kiss, accompanied by a squeeze of her hand on the back of your calf, and you felt your knees ready to buckle.

"Sevika..." You stuttered out a breath, your voice betraying your desire.

She looked up at you. Her eyes were completely black and her lips were still connected to your skin. Then you saw a little glimmer in her eyes and the beginning of a smirk, and the next moment she opened her mouth, flattened her tongue, pressed down and licked.

"F-fuck." You whispered, feeling your soul leaving your body.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your cloudy head and somehow managed to stay upright as she pulled away and stood up with an amused smile.

"How about you lie down on the bed?"

**********

taglist : @opropheticsoul @archangeldyke-all

Thanks for reading! :)

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #writing #fanfiction #my writing #my fics

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slamminslamminmcgill · 2 days

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hi i’m back to laloposting and im being disgusting about it

perrito lore btw

warning: intox (weed and poppers for reader, coke for lalo), anal, oral, rimming, dubcon/noncon, ass to pussy (⚠️do not try this at home⚠️), gaslighting, petplay, the tiniest hint of transphobia for flavor

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt, t-dick

“So this is my family’s latest strain. Tell me what you think.”

Famous last words that Lalo uttered while packing a bowl for you, cradling an obscenely large bong in your lap with you seated in his. He knew damn well that a few rips of this would nuke the speech center of your brain. No way you’d be able to tell him what you think. The stickiest of the Salamanca icky was an indica hybrid that would shut you down. It’d have you under complete couch lock. You’d get so high that you wouldn’t be able to tell your leg from your arm.

And that’s exactly what he wanted.

For you, though. Not for himself.

No, he needed to stay fully cognizant for this to work.

And what better way to lock in than with some hard-hitting, sucker-punch type bumps of luxurious cartel-grade nose candy, brushed into a few delicate lines on a compact mirror.

About 3 bong rips, 2 lines, and maybe 15 minutes later, your pants were off, and two of Lalo’s fingers were lubed up and stretching your ass out.

“Good, right?”

“Guhhh-huh, ha—hahaha… yeeeahhh…” You gurgled, twitching and squirming in time with his fingers. But then they went still.

“I meant the pot, dummy. How’s it treating you?” He asked, tenderly ruffling your hair with his unlubed hand.

You giggled, let your eyes flutter shut, and nodded.

“You feeling like a good doggy?”

Another nod from you.

“Prove it. Get me hard.”

You tumbled off his lap and onto the floor between his legs, pawing at his jeans to get them off him. Once his soft cock was out, you immediately shlurped it into your mouth, nursing it to make it grow big and strong, and long enough to fuck your throat.

“Yeah, yeah, mmm, choke on it.” Lalo said, taking a fistful of your hair, a handle to hold your head like an unfastened briefcase. Your jaw hung open for him to thrust into your throat as easily as any other hole. “Choke on it. Choke on it, mijo, c’mon. You got it.”

When he got bored of that, he scooted to the edge of the couch and held his legs up.

“Lick,” was all he needed to say for you to stick your tongue inside his asshole. He loved watching you degrade yourself. He couldn’t help it. You’re just so cute when you do that for him! Especially when you bounce up and down to tonguefuck him, all with a huge smile on your face.

He returned the favor, of course. Not long after, he had you bent over, face pressed into the dark, plush corner of the couch cushion, his dexterous tongue teasing your rim. Tracing circles, up and down, but not in. Not at first. So that when his tongue did push in, you could feel it radiating up your spine.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygod, Lalo! Fuck!”

Though the words left your lips in rapid succession, you weren’t processing their meanings. They were mere vocalizations, not conscious words that you decided to say. Your body said them for you. Or rather, his tongue made your body talk. And his fingers, pinching and rolling your t-dick between them, made your body shake with need.

All of this was to work you open for his thick cock. No matter how many times you’d taken it up your ass, it was always a test of your abilities.

Lalo handed you a small glass bottle that rattled when he shook it. Poppers.

“Take big hits, puppy. You’re gonna need ‘em.”

You uncapped the bottle and huffed the noxious fumes inside, a few second inhale for one nostril, then the other. You barely got the cap on the bottle before you started to feel the effects. Your whole body was warm, soft, pliable. Your head was spinning, asshole pulsating, inviting him inside. A swipe of cold lube was the only warning you got before his blunt head breached your ring.

“A-Ah~! Fuck! Fuck!!!”

“Shhh, sh, sh, you got it. You can take it. Good boy.” Lalo cooed as he pushed in, making room for himself inside you. He got in up to the hilt, and sighed contentedly. “Mmm, so tight, perrito (doggy). Told you, you can take it.” He praised you with two gentle pats on your ass cheek. “Ready?”

“Mhm…” you whimpered.

Lalo withdrew his hips, sliding almost all the way out, keeping only his tip inside, and snapped them forward, pulling a pitiful cry from you. He did it again, a gradual retreat, and a hard hit back in. The slow tempo and high impact served to relax your tight hole, loosening you up until he could thrust a steady tempo. You’d gape so beautifully for him later.

“Eso es, eso es, te putito. Me estás tomando tan bueno. Buen chico. (That’s it, that’s it, you little whore. Taking me so well. Good boy.)” Lalo said, mainly to himself. He didn’t really care if you understood him or not. You’d get the message, especially when it was punctuated by a sharp spank.

Whining into the cushions and gripping onto them for sanity, you bounced your ass backwards to meet his thrusts. The pain of the initial stretch had long since subsided, and you were able to enjoy the intense sensations of getting ass-fucked.

That is, until he pulled his cock out and stuck it in your pussy.

You gasped, head poking up and spinning back to look at him. “La—Lalo! That’s—mm!—That’s my pussy!”

“Hm?” Lalo hummed, quirking an eyebrow in response to your obvious proclamation. “No it’s not. I’m in your ass, baby.”

What? What the fuck is he on about? Did he not just pull out and switch holes on you? Was it an accident? Did he just not notice? No. Bullshit. It couldn’t have been. There’s no way he didn’t realize. The distinct squelching of your sopping wet cunt as he fucked it was proof enough to the contrary. Also, it’s your body. Your pussy he’s lucky enough to be inside of. Even if he couldn’t feel the difference, you did. How could he even try to argue that?

“I told you, we’re only doing anal tonight. Don’t you remember? Silly boy. Silly little puppy,” Lalo sneered as he continued to fuck your pussy.

You shook your head, and bravely tried to correct him, “N-No, Lalo, I’m—ah! I’m telling you, it’s in my—“

But he managed to correct himself, and stick it back in your ass. As if it never happened.

“Listen to me, mutt.” Lalo barked, grabbed you by the hair, and yanked you up until your back hit his chest. His hot breath ghosted over your ear as he growled, “Like I said,”

He continued to fuck your ass as he lectured you.

“I’m only…”

Then your pussy.

“fucking…”

Ass.

“your ass…”

Pussy.

“tonight.”

Ass.

“If I wanted your pussy,”

Pussy.

“I’d take it.”

Ass.

“But I don’t.”

Pussy.

“Because, tonight…”

Ass.

“You’re gonna get fucked…”

Pussy.

“Like a real man.”

Ass.

“Okay?”

“Okayyy…”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, and said, “Good boy.”

You lost track of the switching soon after that. Oh well. Whichever hole he fucked felt good regardless, and the sensation of switching between them was incredible. Lalo could take whatever he wanted from you, and you’d let him. He knew you so well.

Despite his insistent words to the contrary, you went to bed with his load leaking out of both holes. Someday you’ll learn not to think you have him all figured out.

#lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca hcs #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca x reader #bcs #better call saul #better call saul x reader #bcs x reader #bcs smut #better call saul hcs #better call saul imagine #better call saul smut #better call saul headcanons

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 2 days

Text

Hmm I'm thinking I'm thinking. Gotta make money one way or another am I right? Anyway, animation commissions?

Animations ain't easy so I'm trying to set prices correctly in a way were people get what they pay for but also where I'm not offering in a way that burns me out over something stupid..

Animations would include well of course the animation and the panels that I'll draw either in comic form or separate parts so you could have them.

Vv🔞NSFW-BELOW🔞vV

I'm open to certain ships ((GIVE ME RADIOSTATIC AND ADAMS APPLE 😩)) but I'm more comfortable doing OCS right now. Things like holding hands, kissing, snuggling, etc and unlike this animation wip:

You'll get: FULL lineart and maybe after I see how colors work on Flipaclip and add those in for now but for now expect something like this.

Actually I'm thinking about it more and maybe coloring it won't be bad but I hate coloring in other cases so I you the Wips and the videos and color I think $100 dollars is fair right?? (Comms are used to help support me as I recover, find more info on that HERE on my writing commissions post. Obviously writing is a bit different from art so that why prices are what they are, prices can not be negotiable here because I don't want to accidentally sell myself short and then burn out knowing good and well I need to make funds somehow 🤦🏾)

Honestly this is a work in progress. I've done writing commissions, art and animation but it's just making sure I set things up correctly so hopefully I don't regret anything later. Like I know I can do it I just need the right customers to find me.

Customers of Value: if you are willing to be patient, checking in with me here and there while also not rushing me (because I'll literally send screenshots whenever you need them as I work on your art. Rushing me literally stressed me out so pls don't ^^')

Hm, I'm thinking of how I can explain this better.

What you will get:

at LEAST ten slides on your animation (pricing varies but not heavily so)

'manga' panels of how the animation is basically formed or came to be. (Four panels each page. 2 pages in total with no extra fees)

Screenshots of work whenever you feel you actually need it

A little writing blurb either of what happened prior to the animation or after it. 2k words minimum.

Bundle Example (reposted my own art lolol):

+ the animation!

(screenshot from a RP I was in but I'm using it as an example of my writing for y'all to see.)

~~~

I think the highest I'd make anyone pay is $150 at a minimum because it feels fair after all that. ^^'

What y'all think? Oh and did I mention I'll even do the lineart for the manga panels? I will.

Examples of my line art (reposted art of mine):

Now we wait 🫡👀

I think I covered everything I need to but I'll make edits if I have to at any point in case I didn't! If you've made it to this part of the post I thank you for reading! ❤️

Payment methods for me, I will only take:

Cashapp

Chime

Venmo

One

Current (but on hold for now because I'm still getting used to current ^^')

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slytherinshua · 10 hours

Text

HOLD MY HEART, KEEP IT SAFE

genre. hurt/comfort. mafia au. this is a part 2 to my other jeno fic (your wounds wrapped with my love)!! warnings. death, blood, knives, guns, gas chambers, & jeno almost dying all mentioned. reader going through immense guilt and complicated emotions bcuz of killing someone for the first time, nightmares, crying... i think that's it? pairing. husband!jeno x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. requested by @blue-jisungs unofficially but i took it as an official request bcuz she's my baby all the rest of you are losers. a/n. read part 1 here!! this fic can be read as a standalone, but it's still part of the same universe so i recommend reading pt 1 if you haven't already!!

You woke up heaving in short and painful gasps, tears pricking at your waterline. The nightmares were almost like routine, yet they still felt so real everytime that you could never get used to them. You hadn’t enjoyed a good night’s rest in weeks. You could only fall asleep wrapped tightly in your husband’s arms, and even then you would always wake up from the dreams.

When you had first met Jeno, you knew that getting yourself involved with someone who worked with crime was a risky choice to take. You knew the dangers, but Jeno was worth it to you. You swore to never mess with the stuff firsthand, though. Jeno insisted that you train enough to defend yourself in an emergency, so you were no stranger to a gun’s mechanisms or the best technique to stab someone in the throat with a knife. But you never touched his guns or daggers unless it was for training, you never went along on missions, and you certainly never took a life with your own hands.

That was, until 2 weeks ago.

It was your first wedding anniversary with Jeno, but, of course, you couldn’t expect that you would be able to have a romantic day like other couples. Jeno’s biggest enemy had baited him with an opportunity that was too important to pass up. But the risk was extreme. You trusted your husband without a doubt, but you knew in your gut that something would go wrong. And you were right.

Jeno had smoothly been able to get in and take out almost all of the henchmen, but he hadn’t anticipated that they would lure him into a locked room with a highly advanced gas system installed. There were no windows, the door was barricaded and too heavy duty to break, and Jeno had no way to stop the gas.

If you hadn’t trusted your instincts and followed him to the base, you wouldn’t have been able to stop the gas flow and disarm the enemy. Thanks to your training with knives, you were able to take him out before he could harm your husband anymore. If you hadn’t taken that risk, Jeno wouldn’t be alive to this day.

In the moment, your only concern was saving your husband’s life, but the lingering regret and guilt from having a death on your hands was eating you whole. You couldn’t get it out of your head— the power you felt driving the knife straight through the man’s stomach, the horror that followed once you heard his blood curdling screams, and then the deafening silence. You had no idea how Jeno did it for a living.

You heard your husband stir beside you, probably sensing your distress or the slight noise of the sheets shuffling. He trained himself to be an incredibly light sleeper for his own safety. He would wake up to the sound of a pin dropping when he knew there was an active threat.

He knew that there was no threat right now. You had made sure of that 2 weeks ago. But Jeno still sat up, letting his tired eyes fall to your figure, his heart clenching in his chest at the sight. He knew exactly how you felt. He had experienced the same thing when he was still training under Johnny and Ten. The knowledge that someone had died at your hands was unlike any other. No matter how justified the death was, it still felt the same.

He reached out his hand, gently tracing a line on the top of your hand before he threaded his fingers with yours and squeezed. Slow rubs of his thumb over your knuckles was a small amount of comfort for how much you were feeling, but Jeno knew it was all that was needed to calm you down. Any conversation immediately about the nightmare would only lead to more tears. Once Jeno heard that your breathing had evened, he spoke up.

“I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t killed him. I know it was hard.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, his lips soothing your hot skin.

“Can you wash them again?” You asked, referencing your hands that Jeno still held.

It had become obsessive ever since that day. The image of your hands soaked in blood never left your mind. You had already washed away any remnants of the red stains 2 weeks ago, but in your brain, they were still there. The constant scrubbing had caused damage to your skin. Jeno took over washing them for you, knowing that he would be gentler on your skin than you would in your current state. He was patient with you, obliging in anything that you asked for in hopes that it would help you feel better.

He led you to the sink of the bathroom and turned on the tap, finding the right temperature before he let your hands fall under the stream of water. He had bought soap that was extra gentle on the skin just for you. Squirting some into his palm, he massaged it into your hands as gently as possible. He was thorough yet soft with how he washed you, handling your hands as if they were the most precious thing. They were what had saved his life, after all.

He guided you back to bed, gathering the covers over your figure and sliding under them himself. He tucked himself next to you so that his head was mere inches from yours, lying on pillows side by side, you resting safely in his arms. You wanted to thank him a million times as your eyes wandered over his face gazing back at you with so much love. He had so much to worry about already just from the nature of his job. You hated to add to his burden in any way.

Truly, if it had been anyone else, Jeno would not have been able to be so patient and caring. His fellow assassins were well able to handle a few deaths. They were prepared for what a mission would look like and had time to separate whatever happened on the job from their everyday life. You weren’t prepared for that, and unable to make that switch in your brain. Everything that had happened that night lingered in your mind whether you wanted to think about it or not.

“I still feel sorry for ruining our anniversary night. I wanted to take you out on a nice date, show you how much I love you. When you feel better I’ll make it up to you, yeah? I’ll plan something 10 times as nice as I originally had in mind. Just for you.” He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear, admiring your beauty.

“The ruined anniversary is the last thing on my mind. You almost died, Jeno.” Tears welled in your eyes as you said it out loud. By the time you had killed the man and unlocked the door to the gas chamber, Jeno could barely stand on his own. Although you had stopped the gas flow beforehand, he had inhaled enough that it was hindering his breathing. Had you taken much longer, he would have already been dead by the time you got to him.

“I’ve almost died a million times. It’s not like it’s new.” He muttered.

“I haven’t seen you almost die before. Don’t say that it doesn’t matter. How am I supposed to live if you die?” You were crying again at this point.

Jeno sighed. He wanted you to see it from his perspective, but it wasn’t worth a fight. Especially not right now. You were already distressed.

“I know, darling. I’m sorry.” He pulled you closer, head resting against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. He was alive. That was all that mattered to you.

“Go back to sleep, Y/n. I’m right here.” He whispered, stroking your back to lull you into dreamland.

Being in his arms felt warm and comforting. Others would say that he was a cold man, too dangerous to even approach. It was true that his job was uncertain and risky, illegal at many points, and only succeeded, in some cases, at the cost of others' lives. But his heart was warm. For you, he would risk everything.

Despite what anyone else said, you knew that Jeno was a good man. He was not the first person to capture your heart, but he was the only one who you trusted enough to keep it safe. He could carry it with him wherever he went and bring it back to you unscathed. He would never need to give it back to you, though, nor did you ever want him to. You wanted him to keep it until the end of time, safe in his possession, and you, safe in his arms.

↳ nct dream taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyujs,, @lovesuhng,,

@planetkiimchi,, @ujisworld,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @talking-saxy,,

@cupidslovearrows

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