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nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 8 months ago

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Helpless part 41, if you only look for the darkness that’s all you’ll ever see

"Will... can I talk to you?" She seemed... quieter than usual, almost scared.

"'Course Kay, what's up?" He moved closer to her on his bed, in the otherwise empty cabin, everyone else had already left for lunch.

"Well there's two things." Kayla was biting her nails, almost as if she was scared to continue.

"Are you alright? Has something happened? Do I need to beat anyone else up because you know I won't hesitate." She hoped this would go well, she needed this to go well otherwise she didn't know what the fuck she was going to do.

"No- Will it's not that I'm fine just- I wanted to tell you... I'm nonbinary, and I've been wanti-." He wrapped his arms around them, pulling into a hug.

"Thank you for telling me Kay, does anyone else know?"

"I was going to tell Austin last night but I couldn't find him, he's probably trying and failing to write music somewhere."

"That's a very Aussie thing to do; also I'm so proud of you." He ruffled their hair placing a kiss to their forehead.

"Will... there's something else I need to talk to you about." The child of Apollo's voice cracked in fear, they were shaking badly.

"Is everything okay...?"

"Your normally the one doing this but I guess someone has to do it to you."

"What do yo-"

"Will, I know about everything. You're not allowed to work, at all until you yourself are in a better state-"

"Kay-"

"No, you aren't working and I've already set you up with a therapist with Piper's help."

"So she told you?"

"She just said to keep an eye on you, so I did. You can't take care of everyone without taking care of yourself first."

"I'm not worth it, I can't fight so I need to make myself useful in some other way."

"Don't you fucking dare say that, Solace you need help and you will be getting it because I can't lose another brother." Tears fell from their eyes, Will pulled them into a hug,

"You won't lose me."

"It pretty well fucking seems like it considering the only thing you've eaten in weeks is nectar and ambrosia just enough to keep you alive, you haven't drank water in who knows how long, you work practically 24/7, you've fainted like twelve times in the last few days and hid in your office thinking no one would fucking notice, I really don't know how many meds you're taking to keep yourself alive but I know it's more than it should be because this isn't fucking healthy. You scared the living shit out of me so many fucking times because every time I see you looking half dead and I just think what if you physically can't take it anymore. Will you can't kill yourself, I can't fucking do this alone. People are being shit, I'm left trying to comfort crying children while I'm on the verge of tears myself, and Austin is doing who the fuck knows what because he keeps running off at random hours and acting weird as fuck. I can't fucking take this any longer and you aren't leaving me alone in this shit." They wiped the tears with the side of their sleeve.

"I- I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, just please, for the love of Apollo, take care of yourself."

"I'll try." He would, but he knew there was no point.

"No working does include everyone by the way, that includes Nico, you can still see him I know that technically isn't protocol but it's probably better for everyone, you just don't have any actually medical authority." They conveniently left out the part that depending on how he was in a few days he might be joining Nico in the infirmary.

"Okay, yeah just please if it's ever too much let me help you."

"Austin can do that, you need time for yourself for once, maybe talk to some of the younger kids because they're terrified of you by the way."

"Why exactly?"

"I mean at first they thought you weren't real because you were never in the cabin then that turned to a ghost that was haunting the cabin which everyone called the head."

"Yeah I'll go talk to them, and Kay, thank you."

"You don't have to run the world on your own Summer Child."

"You're also an Apollo child." He said rolling his eyes,

"Yeah but I'm not blonde, catch ya later, gotta go find Austin."

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virusinfected-memes · 2 years ago

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TUMBLR TEXT POST SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 1 ;

75 starters. CW: blood mention, cussing, death. Starters come from various text posts floating around Tumblr. The only thing changed for this post was adding capitalization and punctuation. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed!

“All I do is drink water and be stupid.”

“All I do is rotate three outfits and talk shit and have panic attacks.”

“All I want these days is to hike through a mossy forest filled with heavy fog and get lost for a while.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for the those two guys who died in the Blair Witch house? Who broke into HER home, trespassed on HER land, and messed with HER stick bundles? I don’t!”

“Baby girl, you are strange and off-putting.”

“Can necromancers heal depression?”

“Did I need it? No. Did I buy it? Yes.”

“Don’t forget that what you see isn’t all there is.”

“Do you ever wanna bond with someone so bad you’re like, “Damn, I wish we were knights on a dangerous quest...”?”

“Do you think the world could suddenly end on a night as quiet as this?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m an influencer! My content is clownery, I promote stupidity, and I’m sponsored by the circus.”

“Have people in horror movies never seen a horror movie?”

“Holy shit... I’M the demon living in my house?”

“Hot tip: bury yourself in the forest to recharge, never come back, and become a local cryptid.”

“Humans are really good at remembering each other’s bad decisions.”

“I am one percent human and ninety-nine percent tired.”

“I don’t really feel like existing today.”

“I do this really cute thing where I shut down and hate everybody.”

“I feel like I’m in the Sims where it takes five hours to make pasta and then you have to immediately go to bed.”

“If I can’t hand my lover a cup of coffee and kiss their forehead while they’re working, then what even is the point?”

“If my son is stealing pies off window sills, it’s because I taught him to do that, bitch.”

“If you aren’t someone the church wanted dead three hundred years ago, are you really living?”

“If your computer has malware... that’s me in there. If you take care of me like a little Tamagotchi pet, I will leave and give you a secret present in your files.”

“I hate those really vivid dreams that you’re still emotionally attached to after you wake up. You’re stuck, feeling for something that technically doesn’t exist.”

“I’m giving up personhood to become a full-time abstract concept.”

“I’m like a shitty anime dating sim. If I talk to six people, I have to immediately go to bed. If I go grocery shopping, that’s half my HP.”

“I’m off to kill the most powerful man in the world.”

“In the 90s, computers would scream every time you went online. That was foreshadowing.”

“I procrastinate so much now that if I ever became a vampire I will literally put things off for centuries.”

“I think I want my next piercing to be through my heart with a wooden stake.”

“I think my dark under eye circles are adding to the aesthetic, actually.”

“I think the far healthier app to have in middle school was the DSi camera, not Tik Tok.”

“It’s okay to be obsessed and in love with me.”

“I was born in the wrong generation. Take me back to the paleoarchean era. I want to be insentient. I want to be bacteria.”

“Little known fact: once you’re older and you’re no longer in school, time stops being real. Did that thing happen one year ago? Two? Five? A few months ago? Who knows.”

“Maybe if we all just collectively start decorating now, we can... force it to be Halloween.”

“Me? Tired? Sleepy? Yes, constantly.”

“My blood is glow stick juice. That’s why all my bones crack when I move.”

“My body is less of a temple and more of a rotting 19th century mansion rumored to be haunted by several wicked and vengeful spirits.”

“My body is my temple. Ancient and crumbling. Probably cursed.”

“My hobbies include laying in bed in my underwear while I listen to music and hate myself.”

“My kink is closing doors so that I’m in complete solitude.”

“My superpower is going into a book store and immediately forgetting the name of every book I’ve ever wanted to read.”

“Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value.”

“Nothing should go back to normal. Normal wasn’t working.”

“Not really a fan of this ‘being a person’ thing.”

“People keep saying “go big or go home” as if going home doesn’t sound like the best idea ever. Hell yeah, I wanna go home, and I’m gonna take a nap when I get there.”

“People who suggest getting breakfast together as a hangout plan are the kind of people you want to hang onto.”

“Pray for me. Nothing’s wrong, I just want more power.”

“Protect me from what I want.”

“Pro tip: instead of having feelings, try being dead inside. Everything is still horrible, but you will not care at all.”

“Remember, you can disappear into the woods whenever you want. You’re an adult.”

“Reminder: you can start over at any time. Your day is not ruined. Your world is not over. Take a deep breath. Start over.”

“Rest in peace to everyone killed by the gods for their hubris, but I’m different. And better. Maybe even better than the gods.”

“Sexting? Nah, I’m into spexting. Spooky texting. Ever seen a ghost? Hit me up.”

“Something all children covet is the generic black t-shirt with white skull worn by cartoon teenagers.”

“Sometimes a girly just needs to mask her declining mental state by calling herself a girlboss and that’s okay.”

“Sorry, bro, I can’t hang out today. I used up all my mana.”

“Sorry I tried to drink your blood. I think you’re cute.”

“The internet is awesome, but you can’t download love.”

“The only reason I still have depression is because I can’t take my brain out and blow on it like a DS cartridge.”

“The older you get, the more you appreciate just chilling at home doing nothing.”

“The world is just generally better when you’ve recently eaten a sandwich.”

“The worst part about kissing a perfect ten is the cold feeling your lips get from touching the mirror.”

“Very sexy of me to be isolating myself and rotting into the floor.”

“Well, the horrors may be beyond YOUR comprehension, but I understand them perfectly.”

“What does your soul look like?”

“What ever happened to personality? I want decorative towels that aren’t boring! I want NOVELTY! I want people to come over to my house and look at my trinkets, and immediately think “this lady is a wacko” and also “her stuff is haunted!””

“When fat Pikachu finally returns, I know he will single-handedly save our economy.”

“Yeah, I could have cracked the Zodiac cipher before those guys did. I just didn’t want to.”

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

“You can’t keep dancing with the devil and wonder why you’re still in Hell.”

“You know what I would be if I was in a video game? That dead body you find at the beginning with like ten gold.”

“You think too much. You’ll make yourself ill if you keep that up.”

#ask meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #tumblr #* mine

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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Family Fatality-Awesamdude

Gn!reader x Sam x Son!Tommyinnit …. It be angsty and sad with a happy ending. Also, does not follow what actually happened in the lore!

Small note: I think this is the last fic I’m going to write in first person. I think a lot of people enjoy the use of second person more and it’s also a bit easier for me to write in second person. The only reason that this fic is written in first is because it’s a part two and I want to keep it consistent. If you have thoughts about this, feel free to message me!!

Part One: Family Matters.

Check out my masterlist here

Y/N believed it was a bad idea from the beginning. Call it parental instincts. But unfortunately no one believed them… until it was too late.

Y/N’s POV

I knew it was a bad idea.

I should have listened to my gut.

Tommy should have listened.

Sam should have listened.

We should have known better.

When Tommy told Sam and me that he wanted to visit Dream in prison, I instantly said no. That boy had been through so much trauma and manipulation because of that green wearing bastard, I didn’t want Dream to ever be able to see Tommy again.

Sam was more into it. It was less of wanting Tommy to be able to see Dream and more he wanted an opportunity to show Tommy the prison. But he was for it. Sure he knew what Dream did to Tommy and hated the blond for it, but he also understood Tommy’s desire to see him.

We told Tommy we would talk it over and let him know our decision.

I really didn’t want him to go.

Sam talked me into it.

That night after we put Tommy and Stella to sleep and crawled into our own bed, Sam began to explain his side further. He told me about how it might be nice for Tommy to get some closure. To be able to see Dream completely trapped in prison with no way out. It may help stop the nightmares.

That’s what convinced me in the end.

As much as Tommy would try to tell us he was fine, his dreams told us otherwise. More often than not, we’d wake in the morning to find Tommy had crawled in bed between us or that he would be sitting in the rocking chair in Stella’s room. He never told us exactly what would happen, but we could tell.

I just wanted them to stop. I wanted my boy to be able to feel safe in this house. And if that was the only way to have it happen… I had to let it happen.

Tommy was thrilled with our verdict. Threw his arms around us in a huge hug and kissed our cheeks. I did my best to put on a happy front, but it was difficult. Sam could tell. Tommy could tell. Heck, I’m sure that even baby Stella could tell.

I was wrapped in another hug by Tommy and was pulled close to his chest while he buried his face in my hair.

“I’ll be alright baba… I promise.”

Liar.

My stomach was in knots the day he went to the prison. I woke up with enough time to see them off. I gave both of them extremely tight hugs, forcing them to promise me they would be safe before sending them off, telling them to be back in time for dinner.

I watched the two walk toward the horizon and stood there watching long after they disappeared from view. The thing that snapped me from my swell of anxiety and nerves was the sound of Stella crying.

I immediately jumped into action, closing the door and rushing toward her room. I carefully got her out of her crib and began our usual morning routine. “They’re going to be fine baby,” I cooed as I changed her, “They’re going to be just fine.”

I knew she couldn’t understand me. I knew I was saying that more to try and convince myself of that. Thinking if I said it out loud it would make it true… it wasn’t true.

The whole day I could help but worry. I tried to focus on Stella, on taking care of her, playing with her, making sure she was okay, but I found my thoughts drifting back to Tommy and Sam and the visit. I couldn’t help but wonder how it was going, if the two were safe.

The pit in my stomach deepened when our usual dinner time rolled around and there was no sign of the boys. I tried to contact one of them via communicator, but no response. I wasn’t surprised. The prison was so heavy laced with obsidian it was nearly impossible to get a signal in there. I watched with a heavy heart and a knotted stomach as the sun sunk lower and lower into the sky and still, no boys. Stella’s bedtime came and I was forced to put her down alone, Sam and Tommy still nowhere to be found.

I tried to remain calm. I sat on the couch and stared at the TV as a movie played. After a while, I realized my knee was bouncing like crazy and that I was halfway through the film but I had no idea what the hell was happening. I reached over and quickly shut off the TV. The black screen reflected the scene behind me, letting me see what was behind me.

I immediately jumped at the sight of my husband standing in the doorway behind me. My hand flew to my chest as my head whipped around to look at him. “Sam!” I exclaimed a bit breathless, using my free hand to push myself up from the couch to completely turn to him. “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!”

Sam didn’t say anything. He only stared at me. That confused me. He usually rushes right for me, shouting hello, and wraps me in a hug and kisses me sweetly… Why is he just staring at me blankly? “Sam?” I questioned, taking a few steps forward toward him. He still didn’t move. Sam just stared. As I grew closer, I could see that his eyes were rimmed red and the usual light that filled his eyes was completely gone. It was really freaking me out. “What’s wrong?”

It was then I noticed that he had entered alone. Tommy hadn’t come in with him. That sent a fury of butterflies to stir in my stomach. “Sam? Where’s Tommy?”

That was the question that broke the dam.

I watched as Sam’s bottom lip began to quiver and a hushed sobbed echoed throughout the room. “I’m sorry,” Sam whimpered out, another sob escaping him. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam’s legs seemed to give out from under him, causing me to rush forward as my husband fell to his knees. I sunk down to my knees and quickly cupped his face, gently tilting his head to look at me.

Sobs were still falling from his lips as his eyes met mine. I rose my eyebrows at him, not wanting to rush him but still wanting to know what the hell was going on. I didn’t have to wait long for his gut wrenching words.

“You were right.”

It instantly clicked. I was right. That’s why Tommy wasn’t here. I was right. I was right to not want him to go. To not want him to see Dream. Something happened. Something bad happened. I was right.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop him. I was too far. I failed him. I failed to protect him. I failed our son. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.”

Time seemed to stop at Sam’s words. Sam kept babbling words out through his sobs, but I became unable to hear him any longer. A loud ringing filled my ears and I watched as my own vision blurred.

He’s….

He’s dead….

Tommy…

Tommy is dead.

Dream… Dream killed him.

A gut wrenching sob ripped itself from your throat as you fully registered what your husband was telling you. Sam’s arms instantly reach out and wrap around you tightly, bringing you into his chest. Your hands fall from his cheeks onto his chest as you clutch his shirt, burying your face in him as you sob.

You’re not sure how long you’re there, kneeling on the floor sobbing. Slowly, and I mean slowly, but surely, your sobs die down until the only noise filling the room are soft sniffles.

“I was right,” you manage to croak out, pulling yourself away from your creeper hybrid husband to look up at him.

“You were right,” Sam echos, moving one of his hands to cup your cheek and tilting his head down to rest his forehead on yours.

You let out a watery laugh as you close your eyes tightly and relish in the gentle contact.

“God. I have never wanted to be wrong more in my entire life… I wish I wasn’t right.”

The next few days passed slowly. The sky seemed to be constantly dark and everything seemed gloomy. Even Stella was more somber, as if she could tell something was wrong. And she probably could. She had gone from spending almost every second with her older brother to not seeing him for days on end in the blink of an eye.

Sam still had to work. He had to force himself to go back to that damned prison with that bastard and listen to his taunting laughter through the cameras as he mocks the Warden’s pain. It takes everything in Sam to hold back and not barge into the cell and kill Dream himself. He knew that wouldn’t bring back Tommy and wouldn’t make him feel better, but even still.

The house seemed so quiet. Even with Stella babbling and cooing, the rooms had never felt more quiet and empty. I found myself searching for Tommy’s voice, his laughter, his whole presence everyday only to be disappointed when my search came up empty. I tried to play some of his favorite music discs, but tears would fill my eyes as I realized I would never hear him sing along to them and the silence that would have usually been filled by him babbling about the disc was too deafening for me to want to listen to them again.

The worst part, I found, was when Sam would get home. I was always happy to have my husband back. Always more than willing to hug and kiss him in a greeting. A welcome home. But everyday, I’d try to turn to greet Tommy two. I would be waiting for two blonds to appear in my home, even though I knew only one would be home. My heart would break over and over as I searched for the boy that I knew wouldn’t be there.

I let out a sigh as I finished up the last dish I had prepared for dinner. Sam should be home from work any minute now. I set the table, thr-- two places and the food in the middle, Stella in her high chair. Now all there was to do was wait for Sam.

As I finished up, I heard the front door open. “Honey! I’m home!” Sam’s voice called out. A soft smile placed itself on my lips as I turned around and made my way to the front door.

“Hey honey welcome--” The sentence died on my lips as my eyes met what was at my front door. My husband had not come home alone. Instead of the one blond that I had seen come home day after day, had been joined by another blond.

A familiar blond.

The blond I had spent the last several days missing and mourning.

Tommy.

“Tommy?” My voice croaked as my eyes met his icy blue ones.

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he gave me a soft smile, “Hi baba.”

A sob let my lips as I raced forward and wrapped my arms around the middle of the boy I call my son. His arms immediately wrapped around me as he pulled me tightly to him. His face turned down and buried in my hair as I nuzzled into his chest. My fingers clutched at his shirt that rested on his back, trying to prove to myself that he was here. That Tommy was back and actually here. Here in the flesh.

“How--How did you? Why are you? What the?” I babbled out, tilting my head up to try and look at him.

“We can talk about it later… For now I’d just like my parents to hold me.”

Another sob escaped my lips as I moved my head back to its original position. Sam’s strong arms wrapped around the two of us, pulling us close to him. Our little family was back together again. How? I don’t know. But I didn’t care. Tommy was back.

The sound of Tommy’s stomach rumbling broke up from the sweet moment. I let out a small laugh as I carefully pulled away from the hug. I let my hand come up and cup the boy’s cheek. “How about you go sit at the table? I’ll get another plate.”

He gave me a quick nod, leaning down and kissing my cheek before making his way to the table.

“STELLA!! I MISSED YOU!”

I laughed again and turned to my husband, giving him a smile. “He’s back?” I whispered the question, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“He’s back.” Sam confirmed, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. He then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one I instantly returned. The kiss said it all. Tommy was back. Our family was back. We were whole once again. And I’m going to make sure that it stays that way.

That sucked. I’m sorry. But if you did enjoy, be sure to leave a like and maybe a reblog and comment telling me what you liked about it. Until next time!

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt one shot #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude one shot #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit one shot #son!tommyinnit #family fatal #ray-ray-writings #requested #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp #dreamsmp one shot #dreamsmp imagine

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

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Reunited

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Juice x female reader where he comes home from hospital after the prison incident (where she visited him almost in hysterics and pleasantly surprised him by how much she cared) and he comes into the clubhouse to see her wearing one of his shirts and some shorts - and it's so oversized, it's adorable (because he is buff and mmm) and she get's all flustered, because she missed him, and a whole panicked confession happens, ending in smoochies, and the sons walk in like "FINALLY"

Warnings: language, mentions of hospitals, brief mentions of injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: It’s been a minute since I’ve written for my fave SOA Boy. We love some soft love for Juan Carlos. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @everyhowlmarksthedead @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @mayans-sauce @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck (If you want to be added just let me know!)

The club had been running out of favors to call in, but despite that they still managed to get you in to visit Juice while he was recovering from getting stabbed while he was in prison. You burst into his room, tears in your eyes as you looked at him laid up in a hospital gown, one hand cuffed to the side of the bed.

He hadn’t been expecting you—the guys hadn’t been able to tell him that you were coming to visit. So to say that he was surprised to see you appear in his room was a bit of an understatement. Part of him thought that maybe the drugs they gave him were stronger than he originally thought, but then he felt your hands cupping his face as you fought the urge to hug him, not wanting to make his injuries worse.

You’d rested your forehead against his and taken a deep breath, eyes closed, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

The intimacy of the gesture caught him off-guard, but he soaked it up nonetheless. His free hand came up and gently wrapped around your upper-arm, fingers cold against your skin. You finally pulled yourself away from him and took a deep breath, looking him over once again as if to make sure he was really there in one piece.

“How’d you get in here?” he looked over to the door like he was expecting someone to burst in and pull you away.

“The guys got me in here. I didn’t ask how,” you laughed, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face.

You’d been lucky enough to get a few minutes with him, enough to reassure you that he was going to make it home at some point. But once you left the hospital room, worry immediately flooded back into your mind. It was going to feel like an eternity before he was actually back home again. You kept yourself busy at the clubhouse, fighting the urge to ask the few guys who were still on the outside how everyone was doing, how Juice was doing. But the urge to do so was constant.

A few times, when you stayed late and maybe had a drink or two too many, the guys would tell you to just crash in Juice’s dorm since it wasn’t like he was getting much use out of it at the time. You fought them on it at first, but they eventually wore you down. Truthfully, you had no objection to staying there, but you were afraid that if you gave in too easily that it would make it obvious that you had feelings for him. The guys had put that together already, but they were kind enough to not give you grief about it while Juice was laid up in a hospital somewhere.

Waking up one morning, you realized that you’d gone through all of the spare clothes that you had kept in your car. You twisted the blanket in your hands for a few moments as you contemplated what you were thinking of doing. Surely Juice wouldn’t care if you borrowed one of his t-shirts, right? He wouldn’t even have to know about it—you could wash it and return it before he even knew it was gone.

You dug around to the bottom of the dresser drawer, hoping that if it was one from the bottom that would mean it was one that he wouldn’t mind you wearing it. Pulling it down over your head, you smiled to yourself at the way it almost completely covered your shorts. You tied the bottom hem of it into a loose knot before getting ready to take on the day.

You were too lost in the music playing in your headphones as you cleaned up the clubhouse to really notice anything happening around you. It’d been quiet all morning—most mornings were anyway but especially with everything going on lately the clubhouse had been more dead than usual. You were clearing away empty bottles and wiping down the surface of the bar when you suddenly felt a pair of eyes on you.

Pulling your headphones out, you looked up to see who it was. You gasped as you dropped the bottles that you had been collecting, sending them toppling to the floor as you bounded across the clubhouse to Juice. He dropped his bag on the ground to be able to brace himself for the hug that was coming his way. You tried to slow down in order to not body-slam him, and you were partially successful. You threw your arms around his neck as you hugged him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms draped around your waist and he hugged you gently, trying not to wince too much from the impact of your body against his. It was a relief to feel you against him, but he was still in pain.

“I was starting to think that you were never coming home,” you mumbled against his neck.

He chuckled, hand running up and down your back, “That why you’re wearing my stuff? Thought I’d never come back to collect?”

“No,” you pulled back, letting out a nervous laugh, “God, no that’s not it at all. I just—”

“It’s fine,” he smiled, “Glad someone got use out of it while I was laid up,” he paused, “Looks good on you.”

You felt the heat rushing to your face and you tried to cover up the nerves by talking, “I wasn’t gonna steal it, I swear. And I’ll, I’ll wash it before I bring it back. I just ran out of spare clothes to wear and I had crashed in your dorm last night and needed something to wear. Plus, I mean in my defense, I’ve missed you and been freaking the fuck out about you and if you’re alright and the guys wouldn’t tell me anything which was killing me because I love you and I just—”

He didn’t let you get another word out, and he was honestly impressed that you had said so much in what seemed like one breath. He pulled you in by your waist and crashed his lips into yours. It took you a second to realize what was happening, and that it wasn’t some sort of nerve-induced fever dream. Once you did, though, you reached up and cupped both sides of his face in your hands, moving your lips hungrily against his.

The two of you were wrapped up in the moment when the door to the clubhouse swung open, and as the guys walked in they all started laughing and clapping.

“’Bout fuckin’ time,” Chibs laughed.

“Welcome home, Juicey,” Tig chuckled as he leaned on to Chibs to support him through his laughter.

The two of you pulled apart and your face felt like it was on fire. There was a small smirk playing at Juice’s lips as he shook his head. He turned and looked at the guys who were making their way over to him, each of them pulling him into rough hugs and clapping him on the shoulder even though that was probably the last thing he needed after being released from the hospital.

“We were comin’ in to welcome you home, but looks like someone beat us to it,” Chibs laughed as he shook his head, “We’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

You wanted to melt into the floor but surprisingly enough none of the guys said anything more about it as they dispersed throughout the clubhouse, leaving just you and Juice standing in front of each other.

You offered up a small smile as you leaned down to lift his bag off the floor, “This going back to your dorm?”

He nodded, smiling, “Yea, yea thank you,” he trailed behind you as you both made your way towards the back hall where their rooms all were, “Gonna try and steal more stuff before I realize it’s gone?”

You laughed, turning around to face him, “If I was ever going to get away with it, now would be the time—when you’re not at a hundred percent.”

He chuckled, “That’s cold.”

The two of you walked into his dorm and he looked around, smiling when he noticed that things were a little different. It was all still clean, but he knew that you must’ve stayed there at some point while he was inside. He watched you as you set the bag down on the edge of his bed, saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you took a deep breath before turning back to him.

Once you were facing him again, he walked up to you and gently rested his hand against your cheek and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was far softer than the one that had happened a few minutes before.

“I love you too, by the way,” the grin was etched permanently into his features.

You smiled, kissing him again, “That’s good to know,” you rested your hands behind his neck, “because now you’re definitely not getting this shirt back,” you laughed as he pulled you tight and kissed you again.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos #juan carlos ortiz #my writing #fanfiction #soa #soa imagine #drabblesmc

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

“When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

“Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

------------------------------------------------

Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

“Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

“Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

“Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

“You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

“Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

“Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

“Go on, then… show me.”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #yes every chapter will be named after a musical term #what can I say I gotta put those 8+ years of piano lessons to use #not like I've released two albums or anything #that was sarcasm #anyway please enjoy

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expectingtofly · 4 years ago

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What It Means to Love, 3k

established dean/cas, hurt/comfort, post 15x20, human!cas

day 2 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: hurt/comfort

“Dean, I am perfectly fine, I—” Cas paused, face scrunching up, then he sneezed before he could finish his sentence.

Dean took a step backwards. “Dude, gross! Seriously? Sneeze into your elbow. That’s like preschool 101.”

“Oh, then it’s so great that I went to preschool,” Cas said, managing to sound sarcastic even with his nose stuffed up. Dean winced as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his trenchcoat. “It’s not like I haven’t been a human for only three months.”

Right. “Yeah, well, guess this is the perfect introduction." How the hell did Cas manage to still look so adorable slumped against the kitchen counter, clothes wrinkled and nose red? “Welcome to humanity, you have a cold. Here, stop that.” He couldn't watch Cas wipe his nose on his sleeve again. They didn’t have tissues in the kitchen, but he grabbed a napkin and handed it to him. Dutifully, Cas took it and blew his nose. “What you need is to get in some comfier clothes, lay down, and get some sleep.”

Violating the few feet he'd put between them to stay clear of the germs, he stepped closer to loosen Cas' tie. Cas let him, saying, "I can still help research—"

"No, no." Cas leveled him with a glare, but it had lost its bite now that Dean knew he couldn't strike him dead with his angel grace. Okay, it was still pretty menacing. "I'm trying to save your ass. Sam will kill you if you sneeze on his laptop or precious books. Come on, take off the coat, you gotta be burning up."

He was helping Cas slip it off when Sam walked into the kitchen. “Ew, gross," he complained, covering his eyes with his hand, and Dean realized he was essentially undressing Cas in front of the kitchen island. "Get a room."

"Grow up," Dean said, draping Cas' coat and tie over his arm. Okay, so maybe they’d given Sam a reason to be on-guard now, but, "It's not what it looks like."

Sam lowered his hand, then frowned at Cas. "Woah. What happened to you?"

"I'm sick," Cas answered, as if that wasn't obvious enough by his glassy eyes and disheveled appearance.

"Well, uh, wash your hands," Sam said, stepping back as Cas started for the door, Dean following. "Don't wanna spread any germs. And try to stay out of the library."

"Told you," Dean whispered to Cas as they went down the hallway. In their room, he gestured for Cas to sit on the bed as he rummaged through their dresser. “T-shirt and sweatpants,” he said, handing them over.

Cas unbuttoned his white button-down which was identical to the dress shirts he always wore as an angel. Apparently old habits died hard—in this case, an affinity for business casual. Actually, maybe Cas getting sick and out of his old clothes was a good thing. Dean didn't know the last time the trenchcoat had been washed.

Collecting Cas' shirt and pants, he said, “I’ll get rid of these disease-ridden clothes.” He thought he caught Cas rolling his eyes as he pulled Dean’s sweatshirt over his head. "You watch TV or something, I’ll go see if we have cold medicine.”

After starting a load of laundry and raiding the medicine cabinets in the bathroom and cabinets in the kitchen, he returned to the room to find Cas sitting cross-legged under the covers of the bed, remote in his hands.

“Here, you go,” Dean said, handing over a warm mug. Ancient Aliens played on the TV; one of Cas' favorite pastimes was refuting every crazy claim and theory the show presented with his own recollections of the ancient times. “Sam said this tea will help. He ran out to get some medicine.”

Eagerly, Cas took the mug from him and took a large gulp, then coughed. "Ow. It's hot."

"Drink it slowly, idiot."

Cas took a more hesitant sip, then squinted up at him. "This tea is incredibly flavorless."

Dean snorted. "’Cause your nose’s clogged up. And you probably burned your tongue. Another joy of being human."

Groaning, Cas dropped his head back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "Why is being human so difficult?"

Dean inwardly winced at that. Or thought he did so inwardly, but his expression must've revealed something because Cas glanced over at him, then straightened up, nearly spilling his tea. "Dean, I didn't mean anything by that."

Clearing his throat, Dean shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed. "No, it's fine. You're right, being human sucks."

"And I wouldn't trade it for the world," Cas said.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

Cas seemed about to say more, but then he sneezed. Into his elbow this time. Progress.

Ancient Aliens finished, and they got halfway through an episode of UFO Hunters before Cas started to nod off. Dean took the mug from him, and his eyes fluttered open, head jerking up. "I'm fine," he said.

"I know you're tired because you missed them saying aliens created the lost city of Atlantis."

Cas sniffled. "That's ridiculous. Everyone knows Atlantis was formed by—" He was interrupted by a yawn, and Dean made a mental note to return to that subject later.

“Come on, take a nap.”

“I am not a small child, Dean,” Cas protested, but he settled down anyway. Dean couldn’t resist adjusting the covers, essentially tucking him in. He wasn’t trying to baby him, but it was second nature seeing how miserable the guy looked. Turning off the lights, he went to the door. "You good? Need anything else?"

"No." Cas squinted one eye open to look at Dean over the blanket pulled up to his shoulders, and, fuck, if he wasn't still the most beautiful man Dean had ever seen, even sick as a dog. "Thank you."

A tiny alarm went off in Dean's brain about germs, but he returned to the bed to kiss Cas on the forehead anyway. True love, and all that. God, he was getting sappy in his old age.

Cas looked marginally better when he woke up from his nap. If marginally better meant pillow hair and pillow lines on his cheek. Well-rested, at least. He swallowed down the cold medicine Sam had brought home, complaining that he could taste enough to know the flavor was not, quote, "similar to anything occurring organically in nature."

"Whaddya wanna eat?" Dean asked him as he drained his glass of water. "And don't say PB and J," he added before Cas could speak.

Cas set his glass down on the nightstand and slid further down under the covers. "Anything that won't make my throat hurt more."

"My, uh, mom used to make me soup when I was sick."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Whatcha making?" Sam asked, coming into the kitchen. He lifted the lid of the pot on the stove and Dean snapped him with the towel.

"That's for Cas, back off."

"Wow," Sam said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "Look at you."

"Look at me what?" Setting aside the pot lid, he scraped the celery he'd been dicing from the cutting board into the pot.

Sam shrugged. "Taking care of Cas, making dinner, you're almost domestic."

Dean turned red and scrambled furiously for a comeback. "Yeah, and you're, you're still a little shit." Nailed it.

Sam laughed. "Wasn't an insult. Just meant, I don't know. Different for you, I guess."

Dean eyed him, stirring the soup. "Don't have much of a choice. Poor guy just turned human and he's already going through it."

"I think he's dealt with worse than a cold before."

"Yeah, well, wish he didn't have to deal with any of it." Any of it meant plenty. Between Dean’s own fuckups, world apocalypses, and near-death and actual death experiences, Cas had been through the ringer several times over. And now he was human—which, by all counts, wasn’t the worst thing he’d been through, but it wasn’t ideal. It’d been a rough transition, anyway.

Cas seemed better recently, though, since getting somewhat used to being human. And things were going well between them. Getting sick was just one tiny wrinkle compared to everything they’d been through, right?

He stared at the soup and startled when Sam straightened off the counter with a comment that Jack was out with friends, he was leaving for Eileen’s, have fun giving Cas a sponge bath. Dean flipped him off as he headed out the door.

When the soup was finished, he ladled a bowl full and returned to the bedroom. Cas looked up from his phone when Dean entered with the bowl of steaming soup. “Hear from Claire?” Dean asked, nudging the door shut with his foot.

“She says she and Kaia have almost closed up the case." He set his phone aside. “They’ll be able to visit soon.”

“You tell her you’re sick?”

“She was incredibly non-sympathetic—thank you." Cas took the bowl from him. “She seemed to find it amusing that I once ruled garrisons and now can’t go five minutes without sneezing.”

Dean tensed, hoping Cas wasn’t hurt by the comparison, but Cas didn’t look offended. “Sounds like her.”

"Yes.” He breathed in the steam coming from the bowl. “This smells incredible.”

"Family recipe," Dean joked, sitting down next to him. "Well, someone's family. Straight from some blog online. Think it's pretty close to what my mom would make." He watched Cas pick up his spoon, and added, "Don't tell Sam." He'd never hear the end of it if Sam knew he was reading mommy blogs.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Dean picked up the remote as Cas ate, wondering if he should give Claire a piece of his mind. Sure, Cas was pretty easy-going about the whole giving up his grace thing, but no need to rub it in his face. Becoming human had to feel pretty pitiful after ages of being an angel.

He was trying to make it better where he could, though. “You wanna watch a movie tonight? I'll let you pick because you're bedridden."

"I am not," Cas protested, though he looked more than a little pleased at the idea of getting to choose. Dean braced himself for whatever ridiculous romance or musical Cas insisted on watching now—to date, he'd been subjected to La La Land , the ending of which had reduced Cas to tears for the rest of the night; Pride and Prejudice, okay not too bad, though he'd never admit it; and You’ve Got Mail, dammit not bad enough for him to hate either.

Instead of suggesting a movie, though, Cas said, "You're very caring, Dean."

"Uh." Dean turned from cycling through the movie options on the TV to look at Cas. He felt himself turn red under the look Cas was giving him, head tilted, that fond almost-smile he got. "Yeah, uh. What I do."

"Yes," Cas agreed. "It is what you do. You're very good at taking care of others."

"Oh, God, don't start that." By that, he meant the long compliments Cas so shamelessly gave him now, like he'd been storing them up for a long time and was finally able to hand them out. It was like the dam had broken that night when Billie and the Empty—

But he didn't want to think about that. Not when all the events since that day had led to Cas now sitting in bed blowing his nose, the trashcan by the bed overflowing with tissues. Poor bastard; he'd gone through one whole Kleenex box already.

"I'm only going to stop because talking hurts too much," Cas told him, tossing a tissue at the trashcan and missing sorely. Dean grimaced.

They nearly got through Mama Mia before Cas dozed off, head resting on Dean’s shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable position and Dean’s arm was half-asleep, but he refused to move. The mere fact that they were sitting together in bed, pressed against each other, was still enough to send him into shock anytime he thought about it too much. Cas—a literal former angel—had fallen in love with him. It was almost too good to be true.

But Cas was currently slumped against him, drooling on his shoulder, so he guessed it really was true.

As the credits rolled, he turned off the TV and touched Cas’ forehead with the back of his hand. Not as warm as before. At his touch, Cas blinked awake.

“It’s over already?”

“Whaddya mean, already? I just had to sit through two hours of singing and dancing.” It hadn’t been that torturous, but he couldn’t admit that—he had a reputation to uphold. Straightening, Cas rolled his eyes. “Feel any better?"

Cas’ expression turned thoughtful, as if taking stock of every physical sensation in his body, and Dean had to grin at his seriousness. He nodded. "Yes."

"Great.” He glanced at the time on the clock and realized it was later than he’d expected. “You probably wanna get some rest.”

Cas nodded with a yawn. "You don't have to sleep here if you don't want to."

Dean froze in the middle of pulling back the covers, mind immediately spinning out. "What?" They'd only started sharing a room a month ago, oh God, he'd known it was too good to be true, Cas was sick of him—

"I want you to," Cas said quickly, as if sensing Dean's downward spiraling. "I just don't want you to get sick."

Oh. Oh. Feeling a little sheepish for immediately jumping to the worst conclusions—one of his greatest talents, if he did say so himself—he shook his head. "Nah, I have a great immune system."

Cas' expression turned guilty and Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"About that..." Cas started slowly. Dean gave him a look. "Well, uh... Your immune system isn't quite as healthy as you think. I've been giving it a boost for the past several years, every time you started to get sick."

"What?" Looking back, it was pretty remarkable that he'd never gotten even a common cold with all the other shit they dealt with. "Fuck."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I should be thanking you. So, uh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Of course Cas had been taking care of him for years, Dean thought, when they settled in bed and he turned off the lights. Cas told him he was caring, but it was Cas who was the caring one. He’d sacrificed his life for him, for Christ’s sake. Then gave up his grace to return to Earth because he wanted to be with Dean and Jack and Sam and everyone. The guy didn’t have a selfish bone in his body.

The thought should’ve been a comforting one, but instead he felt antsy, unable to stay still, shifting under the blankets.

Turning onto his side, he nudged Cas, whose eyes had fallen shut. With a grunt, Cas opened his eyes and looked over at him.

“You alright?” Dean asked, which wasn’t really what he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it.

“I was when I was falling asleep,” Cas grumbled. But he shifted to face Dean. In the faint light coming from the bunker hallway, Dean could see the concern in his eyes. It sent a pang through him. Cas had given up so much, and Dean was doing all he could to make sure he never regretted it, and Cas told him all the time that he was content with his choice, but still the worry sat heavy in his stomach.

"Listen,” he started. “I just wanna let you know that being human isn’t all bad. I swear it won’t be miserable forever. I know you've been introduced to the bad shit first, but—"

"That's not true," Cas interrupted, touching Dean’s hand resting between them. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dean, being human has been the single most rewarding experience in my entire life second only to raising Jack. It started with you rescuing me from the Empty and revealing my feelings weren't unreciprocated like I thought. I would say that's far from miserable.”

"Yeah, but you had to adjust to living without your grace, and eating food, and getting sick..."

"It's been difficult, yes. I won't lie and say I enjoy bodily functions or sneezing or headaches. But I do enjoy being with you and eating chicken soup and watching absurd TV shows. I wouldn't change this for anything. Whatever happened in our lives, it led us here. And I’m happy with where we are.” He studied Dean for a moment before asking, quieter, “Are you happy?”

“Yes, yeah, of course,” Dean hastened to say, because it was true. Fuck, it couldn’t be truer. “Of course. Just feel bad, I guess. That you gave up your grace and all that. Feel like I’ve hardly done anything.”

Castiel’s expression softened. “You’ve given me more than I could’ve ever dreamt of. And anyway, it’s not a competition, Dean. I take care of you, you take care of me. That’s what love is.”

Throwing that word around, love, still made Dean’s heart skip a beat. But it was true. He loved Cas and he’d do anything for him. The same, he knew, was true on Cas’ end.

Cas said it best, so he settled for lifting Cas’ hand and kissing his knuckles.

“I would kiss you," Cas said, smiling, "but I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Screw it," Dean said, and propped himself up on an elbow to kiss him. Then he shifted, turning over and pulling Cas’ arm to wrap around him. Even if the bastard was sick, Dean was making him be the big spoon.

"For the record,” he said, feeling Cas curl around him. “I wouldn't change anything either."

And he meant it. Even when he woke up the next morning with a sore throat and stuffed up nose. Cas—who seemed to have gotten over the worst of his cold—took only one look at him before declaring it was his turn to play doctor, throwing extra blankets at him and demanding the chicken soup recipe in a flurry of activity.

He’d take care of Cas, and Cas would take care of him. It sounded like a good life, Dean thought, settling back against the pillows with a smile. He wouldn't change a thing.

#j&kcreatorfest #destiel fic #fluff #hurt/comfort #human!cas #established dean/cas #post 15x20 #destiel #cas likes watching romances and musicals i decided for this fic #and history channel shows too #dean and cas' love language is forcing each other to watch shows and movies the other dislikes (or pretends to dislike)#expectingtofly writes

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wtfevenismypage · 5 years ago

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Safe and Sound

Pairing: Spencer reid x reader

Summary: Reader goes into a coma after being tortured on a case and Reid spends all of his time with her.

Warnings: Abuse/torture, coma, probably a swear word or two

Category: Angst/fluff

A/n:I wrote this really late last night while half asleep, so it isn’t the best quality but oh well, I hope you enjoy!

Pain was the only feeling you had. It wasn't just a feeling, it was also your current emotion. You were ashamed in yourself for being so stupid.

You were moving in on the unsub, thinking it was only one person, you should have been able to take him out, but it was two grown men. Two grown men that took you out instantly.

And now you’re tied up to a chair, a blindfold tight over your eyes.

“Your friends are watching. If you try to send messages you’re dead.”

You smile sadly and look up, revealing your battered face to the men who beat you.

“I’m alright guys. Just look for the victims. I’ll be fine-”

A fist to your face cuts you off, and you let out a yelp as they yank your hair backwards.

“You all have four hours to find her. Every ten minutes we’ll carve two letters into her. If you can’t find her in time, she’s dead.”

A blade is pressed against your neck and you whimper.

The blindfold is torn off of your face and you look around with bleary eyes, observing all you can about the area around you.

An abandoned production warehouse. There’s colorful powder streaked across the walls and floor, so beautiful, yet you knew it would only fuel your nightmares for the next few months.

“You better hurry.”

The tall man behind me presses the blade into my neck, marking a shallow sting of blood on your throat.

“P-please... Please stop.”

The team could only watch in horror as you get beaten, Penelope trying desperately to track the live footage.

A firm hand is resting on Spencer’s shoulder, trying to calm him down as he glares at the screen, tears dripping down his neck.

Thirty minutes pass with no succession of finding Y/n. six letters are carved into you.

D-E-A-T-H-I.

One of the men, the taller one, walks in front of you and pinches your cheeks together.

“We’re going out, but we’re watching you. If you try and send any messages to them, We have deadly gas in the vents waiting to be released. Behave.”

They walk out, but not before punching you in the stomach, the rough leather of their gloves rubbing against your carved skin.

“Please... Guys they’re going to kill again... I... I don’t think I’m gonna make it. If... If anyone is watching this, please, Tell the rest of the team I love you all. Penelope, please keep being yourself, never lose the light that you have, it’s a beacon for others.”

Penelope’s eyes overflowed with tears as the team watches you bleed out more and more with every breath.

“Rossi, you gotta get out more man, get yourself a woman to love. There’s someone out there for you, you’ll find her soon.”

Rossi turns his head, not wanting to cry at your words.

“Emily, You are the strongest woman I know, please don’t lose your persistence. JJ, Tell Henrey I said Hi okay? You’re so brave, don’t let anyone push you around. Morgan, You keep fighting for what’s right and don’t you dare give up, the world needs you bud.”

“Hotch, it’s alright to take breaks, this team is strong, they’ll survive if you take a cheat day. You have to give yourself a chance to breath okay?”

Even Hotch himself had a tear dripping down his cheeks as you let out broken sobs, almost screaming as the pain in your stomach starts to make you dizzy.

“Spencer... Oh god Spencer... I’m so sorry... I should have waited for you to come up... I’m so sorry...”

““But if I’m... If I’m gonna die then I have to tell you... I have to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you...”

You look around, looking at the corner where a pile of spilt boxes on the floor, Makeup palettes shattered across with broken eyeshadow on the floor.

“It was a few months ago in December, it was a cold night.” You desperately send them hints. “You had given me an eyeshadow palette. I was upset that day, and slowly, I forgot about it. But I came across it recently. I’m so sorry that I never told you. I love you Spencer... I love you so much.”

The team watches Spencer, waiting nervously as his eyebrows are furrowed together.

“I never bought her an eyeshadow palette...”

Everyone’s eyes widen.

“Garcia look for abandoned eyeshadow palette factories within a fifty mile radius.”

Hotch demands as Morgan sits Spencer down.

“Take a breath, we’ll save her.”

“Morgan, I love her too, if she dies, it’s my fault, I didn’t make it to her in time...”

“Hey kid, don’t do that to yourself, she’ll make it.”

Spencer continues to think about all the times you two had together. You were the only person who listened to his rambling, you actually listened and you liked it. You and him told each other everything, your deepest darkest secrets.

He couldn’t survive without you, there was no way. You helped him when he had nightmares, you made him coffee, you truly held his heart in your hands.

“There’s a match! 68738 Raney Street! Go get my baby!”

Reid is off in a bolt with Emily and Hotch following right behind him.

The men return to the ware house, flipping knives in their hands.

“Looks like it’s time for some letters.”

“Can’t we just finish the message? Please baby?”

The tall man sighs before crouching in front of you, pulling your shirt up and place the knife right under your boob before pressing it in, making you scream out.

“Please! Please stop!”

Your breathing is labored, the blood draining from your body quickly as he continues to slice into you like a stick of butter.

The last thing you hear before passing out is the sound of bells ringing in your ears.

“Please...”

You wake up with a pounding headache, you can’t open your eyes or move any limbs, but you can hear voices talking.

“The nurse said she had a few complications before they could get her to surgery, her heart stopped twice, but they managed to stabilize her.”

It was Penelope, you could tell by the sigh that followed she was talking with Morgan.

“What did they... What did they cut into her?”

His voice was shaky, it made your eyes tear up even when closed, and you could feel the itch slip out of your eye as Penelope speaks.

“They said death is the beginning.”

“And he’s been there since she got out of surgery?”

“He refuses to leave. The nurses told him he had to leave but he wouldn’t budge. It’s been three days. I don’t think he’s eaten...”

Another sigh from Morgan.

Your body is numb, gentle pins and needles spread all throughout your senses. More tears slip through the tiny slits of your closed eyes, dripping down to your ears.

“She’s crying... Probably a nightmare...”

Silence. You can feel yourself drifting back to sleep slowly, the gentle beep of your heart rate putting you to ease as your breathing slows down.

“I can’t believe she went through that torture for four days...”

Had it really been four days? It felt like a life time had passed from being taken from your team.

As you drift into a deep sleep, you can only relive the horrors as you remain unable to wake up.

The next time you awaken, you still can’t move or even blink, your throat dryer than before, pools of sweat at your thighs. You’re able to feel a hand clutching yours though, it’s slender and bony, long fingers squeezing yours tightly.

“You might be able to hear me, and if you can, we uh... We saved you Y/n. You’re safe now.”

Spencer.

You wanted to smile and throw your arms around his neck, but your limbs feel like lead, the heaviest lead in the world and you just can’t lift them up.

“I love you too Y/n. I love you so much. But it’s been eight days since you got to the hospital... Please wake up so I can tell you how much I love you.”

A pair of lips presses against your forehead. It tickles, warm breath from his nose gliding over your skin as he finally pulls away.

“Wake up soon Y/n...”

You slip in and out of consciousness like that for the next few weeks, listening to Spencer’s stories of the team’s current case, and relaxing to classical music as he reads books aloud to you.

They were books you loved too, fictional books about space pirates and cheesy rom-coms. You were so grateful too him, hoping you could move sometime soon so you can kiss him.

One day the nurse came in to talk with Spencer.

“Her state isn’t improving, she hit her head pretty hard when you found her, we don’t know how long it’ll be until she wakes up.”

You wanted to fight for him. You wanted to open your eyes and look at his beautiful face, you wanted to be able to hold him in your arms. So when his hand returns to your’s, you try your hardest to squeeze his hand, to let him know you’ll survive.

It takes all of your energy, but briefly, very briefly, your hand clenches softly, and you can feel his hand tense up.

“She squeezed my hand!”

With those words you swiftly passed out.

Spencer squeezed your hands days after that, it had been almost three months now, and a few days since you held his hand.

Your disheveled state was slowly improving, your sunken cheeks and deep eyebags now gone, but you still weren't waking up.

“So I brought a children’s book today, I thought you would like it.”

He begin’s reading to you, squeezing your hand every few seconds to hopefully gain some sort of reaction from you.

But once again, nothing.

“Please wake up soon princess...”

You strain your muscles harder than you ever had to before, trying so hard to tap your fingers on his hand in the tune of the distant piano playing in the background.

One finger twitches on his skin, bouncing up and down to the beat of the piano, the rest of your fingers following suit.

A gasp escapes his lips.

“Princess? Are you awake?”

How the hell do you think I’m gonna answer that Spencer you dumb-

“Oh wow princess, You’re awake! Um, Uh, Okay, I need to go get a doctor, keep your fingers tapping okay? Doctor!”

You keep tapping your sore fingers, listening to Spencer and the doctor panicking about what to do.

But then, You’re eyes slowly flutter open, the blinding light impaling your irises as the sound of Spencer’s crying fills your ears.

“Good morning Agent Y/l/n, you’ve been sleeping for a while now, I’m gonna help you sit up okay?”

You do your best to nod as the female doctor moves the hospital bed upwards, allowing you to lock eyes with Spencer.

“Sp... Spence...”

Your voice comes out broken and shattered, only a semblance of a croak, but he leans in and wraps his arms around you, making you feel safe and secure.

“Hey princess, I missed you so much.”

He presses a kiss to your head again, letting his tears fall onto your hands, which he’s held against his cheeks.

“I... I love...”

“Shhhh, I know princess, I know, just relax now alright? You’re safe and sound.”

“I love you...”

“I love you too.”

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago

Text

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. Ch.II Dave York x F!reader. #Writer Wednesday 05/19/21

#Writer Wednesday 05/19/21 for @autumnleaves1991-blog

Summary: After you did your first job for Dave, you’ve been training for this moment. Your first job alone, your first kill.

Warning: Dave York, he’s a warning in his own, descriptions of murder and death, anxiety and panic attacks, blood and injuries. Maybe some kissing...or not

A/N: This is a second part of a series that started with the second picture challenge in a #Writer Wednesday called “Desperate situations call for desperate measures” read it here, it would not make sense if you read this alone. This is slow burn and for the moment I let everything a bit suggestive but it would eventually become hotter. Because Dave is Dave and he likes to torture us.

Desperate situation call for desperate measures. Chapter II

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

“I’m sorry everything is a mess. I was not used to live alone. My wife left a month ago and I thought I could manage everything by myself at first, but...” the man opens the door to you and lowers his head in shame.

You can see the bare mattress since the fitted sheet is partly touching the carpet and the duvet is a ball at one side, you can see from here that he didn’t bother to change the pillowcases and the one he uses has his head shaped into it with yellowish marks of sweat on them. The rest of the room is sprinkled with dirty laundry and empty glasses and dirty dishes. In front of the bed the closet stays open, no clothes hanging in it as the laundry basket is full and the clothes spills over until they fall around it.

The room stinks and the half closed shutters and the window glass full of dust assure he hasn’t aired it in a long time. He’s a pig, a lazy dirty pig but, does he deserve to die? You breathe deeply trying to ignore the sour taste the smell of the room leaves in your mouth.

“I will do the laundry and change the sheets first” you say with a soft smile

“Thank you, I’ll be in my office if you need me” he walks away in his pajamas and drags his feet over the carpet as if he couldn’t even raise the weight of his legs, destroyed and done with the world, with no clean clothes just a pajama and two non matching socks. And he will die like this. You think is not fair, whatever he has done, he deserves a little bit of dignity. But that’s not your choice. That’s what you have to do, it’s not personal.

You try not to breathe while you pretend to tidy up. When you hear the soft muffle tunes of country music, you know it’s time. You take off your shoes and walk stealthily towards the room at the end of the aisle. From the door you see his bald head, eyes fixed on his computer, and he doesn’t hear you when you come close to him as you have observe from weeks of stalking you know he listens to his music too loudly, so when you insert the needle on his carotid that’s the first time he notices you.

His head turns with an expression of horror and surprise, his blue eyes widely open while his thin capillaries burst clouding his eyeballs in red while he gasps.

“Shhh” you hear yourself making soothing sounds to him and you hold his head with care with your hands covered in black latex gloves. It’s no personal, you repeat in your head when you see how he face contorts when the air is not longer getting inside his lungs, the veins in his neck are thick and visible through his now red skin. You turn your head and try to remember all the shit Dave has told you. You try to remember his deep voice, his hands guiding your movements

“It’s not personal” he said and now you repeat it loudly, the target expires and he tenses for a moment and then you let him go, his face hitting the keyboard.

“It’s not personal” you whimper and hold back the tears remembering the DNA that you absolutely cannot leave.

You didn’t even catch his name, you actually think you ignore it once he told you, but now it doesn’t matter, because with name or without it, his face will burn forever in your mind. Your first job, your first kill.

It’s not personal.

6 months ago. Dave’s car, after the phone booth call

“We have arrived” his palm burns on your cheek and you suddenly remember where you are. His cologne and aftershave on his wool coat, the fresh and clean scent inside his car and the mud you have brought inside it.

“Arrive where?” you raise on your sit and look through the windows, it’s a common street, small apartments buildings stuck to one and other, a few cars parked to both sides and the sidewalks glow with the dew of the imminent sunrise.

“Safe house” he says before exiting the car, you see him turn until he opens your door and bends down looking at you like evaluating if you could get out on yourself “Come” Dave lends you his hand and you take it holding it tightly trying to gather the strength to move your legs but they shake so violently that Dave grabs you by the waist and pulls you out of the car. Your body, used to the warmth inside the vehicle, tremble and your muscles stiffen in the chill air of the dawn.

You lean on Dave and let him drag you to the stairs of the building while your head rests on his shoulder “we haven’t use this once in a while, but for tonight it will do” he comments as he opens the glass door. There’s no sound coming from the few flats on each floor, some of the walls look half painted and you wonder if there’s someone living here, would he own a damn building in the center of the city?

The apartment is big, dark wood parquet and white walls make the room look open and there’s only a marble isle with two stools close to the kitchen and a grey sofa in front of it.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom. You need a warm bath”

He lets you seated on the toilet while he prepares everything. You observe him, he wears all black: a hoodie and sweatpants and it’s a drastic change from the first time you met him. His brown hair is disheveled as if he had taken off a hat or a helmet. Where was he before you called him?

“There’re only man clothes here, but tomorrow I will bring you something more suitable” He has a duffle bag and he takes out some small shampoo and shower gel bottles, toothbrush and paste and a plastic zip bag full of what looks like to be different medication.

“You’re always prepared” you mutter and you feel your voice coarse and how it stings to say anything. You screamed, a lot, you remember now how they killed Tom and how you fled.

“We have to be” Dave bends down and adjusts the temperature while the water runs down from the shower head. He extends his hand to the stream “I think it’s warm enough. I leave you to it” he gives you one of those warm smiles and you notice now that a dimple appears when he does it. You know nothing of him but for some reason you’re sure that he doesn’t let many people see this kind of gentleness and it makes your heart beat faster. You hope that smile is only for you, that you own that little part of him.

You get up and stumble when your head turns

“Hey take it easy. There’s a towel just on the sink. I’ll wait outside” he lingers on the door frame when you don’t move for a few minutes, your gaze fixed on the bathroom mirror, the steam from the shower cannot conceal the horror it reflects. Your hair is a mess, some of it glued in sweat and mud on your cheek, you have bruises and bleeding scratches all over the skin your stupid dress didn’t cover.

“I’ll be just here, say something if you need me” Dave interrupts your thoughts and he closes the door leaving you alone with you reflection. That woman out of a horror movie you don’t recognize. You strip feeling how every movement makes you flinch, every fiber of your body screaming in pain. You remember how you ran, how you waited hours in the cold mud. Your feet hurt as if you were stepping on fire when you touch the warm water, it runs towards the drain black and red, when your feet are clean you see the blisters and cuts you have on them. You walk humming slowly and you sound just like a zombie and you feel like one. But you’re not dead.

When the warm running water hits your back you moan and you stay there until you feel your muscle untangle, head down watching all the dirt leaving your body. And it feels so nice that you could fall sleep right here, it feels so peaceful that you feel as if your soul could leave your body. But you’re not dead.

You know who’s dead? a voice asks in your head. You mumble his name, the name of your friend. Tom. Yes, he’s dead, probably his body stiff and cold in a puddle of his own blood on the pavement of that dreadful place, and here you are in a nice apartment taking a warm shower. Probably the nicest place you’ve been in a while, your house, his house, the house of your dead friend was not this classy and tidy, but he put a roof over your head, shared the food he had with you even if it was just crumbles, even if he was stupid. Nobody deserves to die like a pig and be let wherever to be never seen again.

Does he have a family? You met other friends of his, they must be worried. What did they do with his body? Where’s his mum? Now that you think about it he used to have some long calls on weekends, maybe it was her o maybe a partner. Anyway somebody must be looking for him or they will be once he doesn’t show up in a few days. They deserve to know. You have to tell Dave about it. No, he will dismiss it. It’s too dangerous...you’re the last person somebody saw Tom with, you lived with him these past few weeks so once they look for him, they will look for you... and how will you explain...

You haven’t noticed how the water is burning your skin and how you breathing is getting faster and faster until you cannot get enough air in your lungs for much you try. You attempt to call Dave but your chest feels like it’s made of stones. The steam and you eyes starts to blurry making it impossible to get out and you hit the glass screen to get out and suddenly they are open and from the white mist you feel his body holding you

He hushes on your forehead as he did when he had picked you up. Holding your head on his big palms he makes you look at him.

“Breathe for me. Can you do that?” and you nod “Try to match my breathing” He place your head to his chest and he inhales deeply and let his air out slowly. You whimper feeling as if your lungs could expand and release the air, but hearing his breathing and feeling how his strong chest is pressed against you pushing you out and back in again. And you can breathe again. “Let’s get you clean and then you can rest” He places your numb body under the shower head while he pours some shower gel on his hand.

It smells just like him, fresh and some deep tones you cannot identify but it relaxes you instantly. You pay no mind that you’re naked as the day you wear born and Dave doesn’t give any sign that it bothers him. He softly grabs one of your arms and brushes his hand leaving pearly white bubbles over your skin and he turns you and cleans your back and then he slowly repeats the process to the other arm “Stay here” he says getting you back to the wall while switches to the shampoo bottle “Lower your head for me” he commands and gently brushes two of his fingers over you nape leaving your skin in gooseflesh.

He scratches your scalp softly massaging from the forehead to your neck, his knuckles softly pressing on your hurting vertebrae and you moan loudly. The pressure you felt over your shoulders swiftly being relieved. “Let’s rinse it and you can go to sleep” his voice is soft and deep, the sweetest music you’ve heard mixed with the murmur of the water. He passes the shower head over your head until you imagine there’s no more soap and then he wraps you in a soft white towel and gets you out of the shower. You walk on your tiptoes, your feet too hurt to fully press them on the ground.

“Almost there” he whispers

The bed is the nicest you have tested in your whole life, the pillows adapt to your head and you moan feeling a mixture of pain, pleasure and tiredness as you have never experience.

“I will let you sleep now and I will come back in the morning” he flips his wrist, his silver watch shakes and he looks at it with disgust for a second “well, in a few hours, you need at least a good 8 hours, and we will see what to do next”

Your mind is foggy and you watch him through semi closed eyes “Thank you” you whisper “but what happens with Tom?” you ask, mid sentence your voice breaks and you exhale all your air before you could give in to the panic again.

Dave raises one eyebrow, seated next to you on the bed; he evaluates you for a second.

“I know he’s dead, I...what about his body? his family?”

“Sadly nobody knows what happened to him... or to you” he sighs, his face show a perfect image of sadness “And nobody will” the change it’s fast, you can see his eyes turn darker, it’s a warning. Nobody will know and you better keep it that way

“But...the police” he hushes you again and a kindly brushes his knuckles over your cheek

“We’ll talk later. Do you think you will sleep or you need me to get you something to help you fall asleep?” he points to the bathroom where he left the plastic zip bag

“No, thank you” you answer and you feel already how you’re slurring the words

“Good girl”

You will think later it was part of your dreams. That your brain was so desperate to find any comfort, to try to stop the never ending loop of Tom’s death in your head that it imagined something you have wanted since you met Dave.

He bends down and comes closer until your faces are almost touching. You feel the tip of his nose and his fresh breath over your cheek but in a second he goes a few millimeters down and his lips touch yours so briefly that when your mind can process it, it’s already gone.

You fight your eyes and your body, you want to whine and ask for more, ask for his body against yours again, but you fall sleep and when you wake up, sweating, scared and screaming, he’s not there.

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817. Half an hour after the target’s death.

You have clean everything up. Somebody will ask for him, his neighbors, maybe his family or friends, probably his boss. They will think that he must have mixed two of his medicaments, the one his doctor specifically had advice to keep apart because it could be dangerous to mix together but since it was his wife who organized everything and now she’s gone; they will find that he had effectively mixed the two inside the cupboards. The house is a mess, his mind was too so nobody will be surprised he committed a silly fatal error. His dirty laundry will stay there until they empty the house and throw away his things, those permanent things will disappear from earth as he had. And nobody will know the truth.

You carefully take out your gloves and the needle with the small glass bottle inside a zipper plastic bag and you get out of the house. A dark big truck waits for you and you get on the passenger’s seat.

“So, how did it go?” he asks

“Fine. it’s done” you take out your wig and the net that keeps your hair carefully tucked inside to prevent you from leaving DNA

Dave looks at you for a moment and reaches for your head massaging the scalp and you press your lips together so a moan doesn’t escape from it though his fingers untangling an relieving the pressure from the wig is the most intimate and delicious thing you’ve felt. Well, since the day he had showered you because you were exhausted.

He’s nicely dressed in a grey suit and a red tie, from the rearview mirror you see his wool coat and black leather briefcase. Where is going? where was he ? It’s been six month since he started your training and still you have no clue of who he really is.

You snap back to reality once you feel his hand on your chin

“Are you sure?” he asks. His brown eyes penetrate you and you wish that that bridge he builds between you two would be a two way street. That one day you will know every little corner of him as he knows about yourself and your mind. But for the moment you’re lost in his presence, blindfolded and wishing he could show you more but scare of what you might find.

“He’s dead, I watched him die and checked him minutes after like you taught me” you respond lowering your head. You don’t want to show him how you were on the break of tears, how you had second thoughts and how you pitied the poor man.

“I’m not asking about him, I’m asking about you” he lifts your face up

“I’m okay” you mutter and cough to gain a little bit more of strength in your voice “I’m fine”

“Then congratulations” he smiles and you look at him confused “It’s your first job alone and you did well” he explains “Open the glove box” he starts the car while you wait confused by the whole thing “Open it, c’mon, there’s a gift for you” he smirks

You do and there’s a white laminated badge. You recognize Dave’s face and you see for the first time his full name: David York, CIA.

You turn your head to him, a cold stream of sweat runs through your nape.

“I know you’ve worried about the police, how they will find you; and you’ve been loyal, obedient and efficient. As I told you, you will learn to trust me as the team and I will trust you back” he looks at the road while he speaks and you cannot take out your eyes from the badge

“Am I...am I working for the CIA?” you ask

“God, no!” he laughs, a deep husky chuckle “What I mean, it’s that we’re safe. I can contain things when we need to. So you can relax”

Relax? If anything you’re way more scared of him now you know this. He must me lying; he can falsify one of those...right? Or is he being honest?

“And that’s my gift?” you say closing the small door. You cannot lay your eyes anymore on that thing

“No, there’s more”

He parks at your neighborhood, the same he took you to six month ago. It’s not fully decorated yet but you’re proud of what you’re doing with it and it reminds you of the houses that you used to see in those style magazines: open concept, simple colors and practical furniture. On the tea table at the center of the leaving room there’s a blue box with a ribbon. Dave points to it “That’s for you”

You open it and gasp: There’s a small cactus, your book but it hasn’t its usual yellowish pages and the covers are not wrinkled, and that old picture, the only happy memory of your childhood is now framed in a nice silver frame. The things you left months ago in Tom’s house.

“You kept my things...all this time?”

“I couldn’t take them when Resnik went to make sure there was nothing to tie him to us, but he gave me a list of your belongings and I thought it will be nice if you keep something from your old life”

“How did you find that picture, the only person that has another copy is...” you open your eyes widely “You haven’t...”

“He’s alive; I just took what I wanted to know about you and that picture”

“Thank you” you hold the frame to your chest holding back tears

“You’re welcome”

He nods and turns away to leave

“Dave?”

“Hm?”

“What did he do?”

“What did I tell you?”

“It’s not personal”

and he nods but he gazes at you and how your hands hold the frame tightly and you’re starting to breathe deeply

“Would it help if you knew that he was a horrible human being?”

“Well...” you bite your lip

“It won’t, I assure you” he walks slowly towards you until he’s so close and you wish it wouldn’t be so easy, that you wouldn’t be tamed as a small pet just with his presence close to you and his scent clouding your judgment.

“That’s what you do for the CIA?”

“Don’t be eager. You and I will eventually know each other really well” he grins and takes the frame from your hands “You were a very beautiful baby” he smiles at the picture

“Thanks”

“What are you dress up as?” He gives you one of those warm smiles and you feel the hunger to just jump to his lips and kiss him. My smile, that warmth, that small spark of kindness is mine.

“A fairy...a princess, something like that”

“Very pretty” he carefully puts the frame at the center of the table

“That girl would be very surprised to know that now she kills people”

“She will, and have to be, very proud to be a survivor” there’s something in his eyes, an anger but not towards you, something that hurts him and you wish to know, that he’d be as naked and transparent as you are for him.

“I don’t feel very proud today” you keep your eyes fixed on that baby almost lost on the pink tulle, smiling with almost no teeth to the woman holding her on her lap. Tears gather on the corner of your eyes

“You will learn to let it go, I promise” his hand hold you and you feel that you’ve landed back on earth after many memories have awaken the storm inside your heart.

How can he calm you, scare you, make you feel safe and weak at the same time?

“So I didn’t graduate today?” you shake your head and he smiles

“Not yet. You’re closer to be what I wanted and needed, but not yet there, sweetheart”

“What else is there to be taught?” you’ve training not stop for the past six months.

“So much” his thumb traces your jaw line

“Until I’m what you want and need” you repeat his words

“Exactly, do you still want to?”

You give a last look at the past, at your past self, that happy innocent baby that would never thought she will be so lost in the future, so desperate and alone until she found this man that had give her this twisted life, full of shadows and dark thoughts, lies and death and that you’re dying to be even more tangled with him that you already are.

“I’m yours, Dave”

(Since you were interested in a continuation for the first chapter, here you go. Thank you for you nice feedback on the first one and I hope you like it and sorry for taking so long to get a second part : @ericasabe @1andthesame)

#writer wednesday #Dave York #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york pit #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #Pedro Pascal characters fanfic

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writingbeary · 4 years ago

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Welcome back

“Do you think he’ll notice?” you asked looking at your reflection in the mirror. It’s been 3 months since you last saw each other personally. He’s been away for work and as much as you’re excited to finally see him and hold him in your arms, you were also not yet prepared to talk about the soon-to-be new addition to your family. You were starting to show, although still barely noticeable, but it is there. You wore a white smock dress with small flower embroidery and plan to put on some comfortable flats to go with it. It wasn’t that you were actively trying to hide the pregnancy, but you weren’t sure how your husband would react once the news hits him.

Heechul walked over laughing. “I didn’t think you’d be this worried. Why didn’t you tell him over the countless times you both talked?”

“I wanted to but I always chicken out when I see him so stressed over work. I didn’t want to add on to that.” you sighed looking over to your long-time friend.

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted. You both have also been married for what now? 3? 4 years? It’s also about time for Super Junior to actually have juniors.” Heechul grinned, shrugging a bit

“Almost 4 now. You say that but you haven’t really contributed in that sense, you old man.” you laughed, teasing him

“Yah. Must you hurt me like this? Your husband is the same age as me!” He clutched his chest dramatically “It’s just we haven’t really talked about our plans and it’s fun living just by ourselves for now. My wife is also in the peak of her career so I’d rather wait for her. Wait until my niece gets born and I’ll make sure she gets married to my son.”

“Assuming you get a son, that is. That’s true. She is also overseas for a schedule right? She was asking me what I want as souvenirs and to keep you in check.” laughing, you shook your head giving yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your shoes.

“I’m hurt. You both think I’m up to no good every time. Anyway you should tell him soon though, sooner or later it’ll be hard for you to move around without help. Enough about that. We should go now, I promised the other guys I’d drive you to the restaurant before 11am. Leeteuk and Siwon would arrive together from the airport while the others are already there.”

“Mhm. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him today. Besides, he’ll probably notice it even before I say anything.” Heechul chuckled agreeing with you

The restaurant was a short drive from our home, the place was reserved for the day for the guys to catch up with one another. You’ve always wondered how they could maintain their friendship through all the years so it wasn’t a surprise that they do get together once in a while. Only this time, it’s a day for a lot of events worth celebrating for: from Leeteuk and Siwon returning from overseas work, Yesung, Donghae and Eunhyuk releasing another album, Shindong expanding his business, Ryeowook finishing up another musical, and Kyuhyun finally proposing to his partner. It was also a huge day for both you and Leeteuk. Most of the guys knew about the pregnancy and they we’re all dead set on telling Leeteuk about it if you don’t soon and even if the others don’t you feel like Kyuhyun or Heechul would.

“Oh you’re here! Noona sit beside me, how is she?” Eunhyuk pulls the chair beside him patting it.

“Hyukkie-ah, you won’t get to see her until 6 months more.” you chuckled sitting down beside him

“Meet who? What did I miss?” you hear Leeteuk say surprising you and Eunhyuk. Leeteuk placed a kiss on your forehead, sitting down on your other side.

“Oh you’re here. Eunhyuk is excited to meet this cute lady.” you smile looking at your husband.

“Really? Are you going to see them?” Leeteuk grinned at Eunhyuk making the whole table laugh other than Leeteuk who is left confused.

“What’s so funny?” Leeteuk frowned looking at the others

“I think this lady is too young for me hyung.” Eunhyuk tried to answer in-between laughter.

"I'd be the first one to call the police." Kyuhyun snickered

Not understanding what is happening, Leeteuk looked at you for an explanation. "Honey, what's all this about?"

"They're not talking about a potential lover for Eunhyuk or anyone of your members." letting out a laugh then taking his hand and placing it on top of your tummy. Smiling, you raised an eyebrow trying to see if he would get it.

Leeteuk blinked, looking back and forth from your face to your tummy. "You're not joking, right? Is this what I think it is?"

You nodded. "Mhm. Before you joke around, no it's not that I gained weight."

"I wasn't about to say that! Y/N, how-...when-...why-"

"What? Hyung, you don't know how babies are made?" Kyuhyun snickered making Leeteuk send a glare at him jokingly "Not that. Since when did you know?" he pulled you into a light hug looking into your eyes.

"A few days after you left. I was at work when I felt a bit dizzy and nauseous around certain smells. I thought it was nothing until one of my coworkers told me to get examined. I got the results and have been on tight guard by your members."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to. But I didn't want to add on to your worries when you're already stressed and it's not like you can fly back right away. Sorry. I didn't mean to keep it from you" you smiled apologetically, placing your hands on too of his playing with his wedding band.

"I would have flown right back. I'm sorry I left you alone." Leeteuk sighed "Now that I'm back we have a lot of things to do and buy, Y/N."

"Believe me when I say the uncles are all enthusiastic when they found out. They've been a huge help that I didn't have much to do. Apparently, being pregnant also means that I cannot drive or go somewhere alone to these people." you glared playfully at the members while they raise their protest saying they didn't want to get killed if something happened to you while Leeteuk was away and that they're pretty much the child's uncle.

Leeteuk chuckled thanking the members. "I'm still sad that I only found out now. I missed a lot of moments. I need to make it up to you and our little angel."

"There'd be plenty more and I'm holding on to that once it gets more difficult or if I crave anything." you joked poking his arm

He let out a laugh nodding "I'll do my best."

"Also, you'll have to be the one to tell In-young unnie and you'll have to come with me to visit my parents."

Chuckling, Leeteuk pulled you pulled you closer before leaning in to whisper to your ear "Thank you honey. I'll be an even better husband to you.I love you."

"I'd say get a room but you already have one on the way so there's no need for that." Heechul grinned, making everyone laugh.

"Welcome back honey." you smiled placing a kiss on his cheek

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner:

this was in my drafts since last week but i didn’t know how to finish it or who to use as characters lol there was a lot to consider when i was writing this and i end up redoing the whole thing over and over again O3O hopefully you'll still enjoy this though!

-Mimi

#kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #super junior x reader #suju x reader #fem!reader #pregnancy #written work #writing beary #kpop imagines #oneshot #suju leeteuk #park jungsoo

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farfromsugafanfic · 4 years ago

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Sutures - Chapter One: Broken Hearts Club

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): alcohol consumption, sexual references, references to a one night stand, cursing, hospitals

Synopsis: "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." --Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

Series Masterlist | Next

Min Yoongi was done with relationships. It seemed they were always after money or fame, or they couldn't deal with his schedule and began to look elsewhere.

At first, he thought since Jihee was an idol, she wasn't after his money or fame. That she understood how the life left little time for a relationship. It was the first relationship he'd ever gone public with; his fans reacting surprisingly well. Dating another idol made it easier, she wasn't subject to more attention that she was not already used to.

But the one downside to dating an idol was that when they cheated on you, there was photographic evidence. He gave her the benefit of the doubt; it was probably a cousin or an old friend. However, then he came into her apartment earlier that night after dance practice. The true nature of the relationship was revealed.

"Yoongi!" Jihee called. "I'm sorry! I don't expect you to take me back. Just please, keep this quiet."

Her image mattered more to her than his heart. Just like everyone else.

---

Yoongi drank the rest of the glass, the burning in his throat he'd felt at the beginning of the night subsiding. The bar was one far away from the dorm, almost on the outskirts of the city. A place nobody would think to find him. It was busier than when he'd first come in, but still nothing like the bars and clubs downtown.

Music started up and he cringed as one of his own songs came through the speakers and reverberated off the walls. Min Yoongi couldn't escape himself even if he wanted to.

Nobody seemed to be eyeing him or trying to capture his attention by requesting the song. In fact, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him at all. A small solace.

Most of the other patrons danced. The majority offbeat and already off their face from soju or whatever their drug of choice. He noticed a girl sitting at the corner of the bar--she seemed uncomfortable--trying her best to pull down the short black dress she wore. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, ending just below her chest. She wasn't drinking anything, hooking her heels into the barstool, and watching the dancers.

Yoongi felt a small pull in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was from the heartbreak or from the way the black dress hugged her curves. Honestly, Yoongi didn't care.

"Another," Yoongi said, motioning to the bartender.

---

"Sumi!" your friend said, rushing over to the edge of the bar where you had perched. "Come dance! You're never going to get over him if you don't let yourself go."

"I don't want to get over him, Eunji," you said. "I want to get back together."

"No," Eunji said, her forehead wrinkling, a sign she was serious. "I'm not letting you get back together with that deadbeat. He was holding you back and you've taken him back too many times."

You sighed, unhooking your heels from the rung of the barstool. Your best friend had a point. You'd given Minki--your ex--hundreds of chances. The first time he cheated on you, you'd believed him when he said that it was a mistake and it would never happen again. And it didn't, for another year. The second time, you swore you'd never take him back. But a month later, you did.

"Come on, let's go show him what he's missing," Eunji said, grabbing hold of your hands.

"He's not here."

Eunji scoffed and pulled you up. You stepped out of your heels and stood on the ground with just the thin material of your tights between your skin and the sticky ground.

"You know what I mean! Now, come on!"

She pulled you onto the floor and to your surprise you actually enjoyed yourself. You'd forgotten what it was like to simply dance like no one was watching. You didn't care that your dress was slipping up again, or that you'd worn holes in your tights on the bottom of your feet.

Eventually, Eunji brought you a drink. You assumed it was water, but as you drank, the liquid burned your throat and you nearly spit it back out.

"Eunji!" you exclaimed after swallowing. "Vodka? Really?"

"It used to be your favorite," she said.

"Yeah, not when I'm expecting it to be water."

You laughed slightly, throwing it back.

"Water won't help you forget Minki."

"This is why my parents thought you were a bad influence, you know?"

Eunji laughed, ordering herself a drink.

"Yeah, well, I don't think their judgment was the best."

You laughed.

"Thanks," you said, squeezing your friend's hand. "I really needed this."

---

"You know what else you need?" your friend asked about twenty minutes later. Her words beginning to slur, her lipstick smearing. "A good f---."

You covered her mouth before she could finish the word. Your eyes were wide and you were sure you were blushing. You, too, were starting to feel a bit tipsy. But, unlike your friend, you got tired when you drank.

"I'm going to get another drink," you said, wanting to escape the smirk that had broken out across your friend's face.

You walked backward for a couple steps, despite the fact you weren't drunk yet, you stumbled and fell backward. You landed straight into the lap of a stranger, who luckily caught you, his arm around your back.

You felt yourself blush as his dark eyes made contact with yours. His white hair partially covered them, but you could still feel his glazed gaze boring into you.

"A drink?" he asked. "All you had to do was ask."

A smirk broke out across his face, not unlike Eunji who winked at you from a couple of barstools away.

---

Eunji (11:01 pm): I think he's an idol.

You looked across the bar at your friend who had ordered some food to sober up.

You (11:01 pm): I don't think so. He doesn't seem like an idol.

Eunji (11:02 pm): Who else would dye their hair white?

You (11:03 pm): I don't know. Does it matter?

Eunji (11:04 pm): Only if you care that you're about to hook up with an idol.

You rolled your eyes and turned your phone to silent.

---

You stifled a moan as he kissed your neck and you fiddled with your keys, trying to unlock your front door. You eventually managed to turn the key into the lock and the two of you practically fell inside your apartment.

"What about Eunji?" you asked, as he closed the door and pushed you against it.

"The bartender's going to take her home," he answered. "Don't worry."

He kissed your lips this time, effectively shutting you up and smearing your lipstick on his own lips. His hands roamed up and down the fabric of your dress. But, he was patient, he didn't just rip the fabric off you like Minki would've.

"Only tonight," you said, your voice breathy.

"Only tonight," he repeated.

The promise you'd made each other before you'd left the bar. Neither of you wanted a relationship, rather proof that you could still be loved.

His lips roamed back down to your neck, it seemed to be his favorite spot. Somehow you managed to collapse onto the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. You dug your heels into his hips and laughed.

"What?" he asked, smirking against your collarbone.

"I forgot my shoes at the bar."

He pulled his lips away from your skin. His hand reached up and moved your hair off your shoulders and out of your face.

"Good, means I won't have to take them off."

---

Yoongi woke up the next morning. He glanced over at your sleeping form. He smiled and reached to move the hair from your face, but his fingers stopped midway, remembering the promise you'd made each other the night before. Only tonight.

He got up and collected his clothes. His phone was still in the pocket of his jeans, nearly dead. He slipped on his jeans and glanced down at his phone.

"Shit," he mumbled, seeing the multiple text messages from his band members asking where he was and telling him he was late for practice. He shot a quick text to Namjoon explaining that he was on his way.

Yoongi quietly walked out of the bedroom and closed the front door, trying not to wake you up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black mask that he kept on him in case he needed to walk in public without too much notice.

He slipped into the crowd. He placed his hands in his pockets and looked around, hoping to eventually catch a taxi. But, just in case someone had followed him, he wanted to get as far from your apartment as possible before he hailed a taxi.

The heartbreak from the day before seemed to have dulled inside him. It was still there--it probably always would be--but it wasn't ruling his thoughts anymore. He smiled as he thought back to the night before, seeing you dance so well, even though you had been reluctant to. When he'd originally spotted you across the bar, he decided to ignore you, but when you landed in his lap; a little tipsy, your hair just the right amount of messy, and your bare feet swinging just above the ground, he couldn't resist you.

With each block, Yoongi felt an odd sensation in his chest. It wasn't heartbreak, it was something else. Something he couldn't describe and something he'd never felt before. It didn't hurt at first, but after a couple more blocks, he stopped, clutching at his chest.

He breathed heavily, his thoughts racing, trying to find some sort of explanation. He managed a few more labored steps before collapsing on the sidewalk.

---

Yoongi opened his eyes. He looked down at the IV in his arm and glanced over at Taehyung who sat beside his hospital bed.

"Yoongi! You're awake!" the boy said.

Taehyung immediately stood up and yelled out into the hallway. Yoongi could hear the rushing of his band members as they barreled down the hallway towards his room.

"What happened?" Yoongi asked, as soon as they were in the room. "I just remember walking and then my chest hurt."

"You collapsed," Namjoon said. "They brought you here in an ambulance. The doctor told us it wasn't a heart attack, but said he didn't want to explain anything until you were awake."

The boys fell silent as the doctor and Bang PD walked into the room. BTS scrambled to the far side of the room, allowing the doctor to examine Yoongi.

"It would appear," the doctor started. "You are very lucky man. Not many people find their soulmate in this world."

"What?" Yoongi and the members said at once.

"When someone meets their soulmate, choosing to leave them behind can be deadly for both parties. The only reason you aren't experiencing pain right now is because you don't have a choice in where you are."

"Wait, so how am I supposed to live my life then?" Yoongi asked.

"It's complicated," the doctor answered. "There shouldn't be a reaction for anything work-related for either of you. However, you will have to remain in close proximity to each other in your free time. That's not to say you will have to spend every waking moment together, but..."

"We need to know who this girl is, Yoongi," Bang PD continued. "If you want your career and your life to continue, we have to find her."

---

"So, you're saying the guy I met last night? He's my soulmate?" you asked, once the doctor had explained everything.

"Most likely," the doctor said. "It is extremely important we find out for sure, though. It is a matter of life and death."

You took a deep breath, allowing the weight of everything to fall on your shoulders. It was supposed to be a one night stand. Only tonight.

You weren't supposed to discover your supposed soulmate. What would that even mean? You hardly knew the guy! How did your body somehow know he was the one?

Eunji was sitting in the corner. You could tell she still had a headache from the night before, but when you'd called her in a panic, she'd still managed to rush over to your apartment and find you passed out, eggs black and burnt on the stove.

"I don't even know his name," you said, looking down. "I--I don't know how we'll find him."

"Well," the doctor said. "There's only one other person in the city who has been admitted for finding their soulmate today..." The doctor trailed off and pointed up at the TV where a news report was talking about how a famous idol had met his soulmate, but that they needed to find her.

Eunji looked at you, her eyes wide, the news sobering her up immediately. She reached out for your hand.

"Fuck," she said, "you're Min Yoongi's soulmate."

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who-ever-said-i-was-nice · 4 years ago

Note

Heya, could I ask for the ikevamp boys finding mc passed out at the table surrounded by work? Uni's been killing me lately. If all of them is too much then just Leonardo, Jean, Comte, Theo and Mozart? Thanks x

I cried five times while making this.

Dear Anon! Thanks sooo mush for the request. 😘I’m sorry for taking this looooong I also have a shit ton of work but HERE IT IS. I hope things get better for you and good luck!😘❤️❤️ I added a different type of uni to each of the guys just to make it interesting. @nad-zeta your daily dose of Theo. XD. Love you. Hope you enjoy! Ok here we go!

Ikevamp boys x an overworked mc

Leonardo

he just woke up from one of his naps and he decided he’s going to have a snack most probably mc

as he’s walking towards kitchen he spots you sleeping on one of the tables in the library surrounded by a huge pile of books, pens and papers

now he knew that you refused to give up on the uni you where going to when you came here but he’s still a bit surprised

he walks up to you and takes a peek at what you are studying

architecture

more specifically some designs he came up with

*eyes emoji*

after the initial shock of finding out you where studying his work he smiles and picks you up and caries you to your bed

from that moment on he will always help you with whatever you are studying and always makes sure you take breaks

Comte

he was walking around socializing with the residents when he stumbled upon you snoozing on the dining table buried in a mountain of book

ha was aware of your studies and offered to let you off work completely

but you insisted on dedicating 4 days a week on housework

however this meant you had to study like crazy

when he saw you there he already knew what’s wrong

he panicked internally but calmly walked to your side

he didn’t insist one knowing what exactly you where studying but this was so convenient he just had to take a look

finance studies

well damn

finds it very amazing that you manege to work and study that at the same time

sighs and carefully picks you up and takes you to bed

after that he makes sure you get enough rest in between study sessions

he will spoil you a bit more and offer to help with your studies

Jean

ok so we know poor baby can’t read

he doesn’t get why you are so passionate about your university

what did you call your studies? Linguistics? Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

he has no idea what you are talking about but he loves you and loves that you have a passion

when he sees you passed out in your room in a very uncomfortable position surrounded by books...

...panic

oh wait no panic you probably just fell asleep ‘cause you where tiered

wait tiered?

panic

he will pick you up and take you to your room, makes sure you are tucked it

from that moment on he will make sure you get enough rest

Isaac

precious little bean

on one hand he understands why you are so passionate about your studies on the other he is worried

one time you where working late into the night and he asked you to stop and you brought up the argument that he does the same

so he decided not to stop you

however when he finds you passed out in the gazebo...

nope.

he is panicked and scared and angry at himself for not realizing sooner

he hurries to your side when one of your books catches his eye

you are studying quantum physics?

say what?

ok he now has a whole lot of respect for you

he will gently shake you awake

“ Mmmhmm...I did my essay” “Y/N it’s me, wake up”

you immediately wake up

“ Don’t ever do that again. You scared me.”

Now you guys study together so cute

Napoleon

UMMMMMM boy

if he saw you just hanging off a table passed out he will have a heart attack

then he will realize that you are just sleeping and you are not dead so he will calm down a bit

he can’t resist the urge to take a look at what you are studying either

politics

interesting.

so you want a politics degree

what you will do with it he has no idea. After all you are in a different time period, but he thinks it’s good to have a goal

what he doesn’t think is good is over working your self

“nunuche wake up” “noooooooooo I won’t wake up unless you do what I do to wake you up”

so he will kiss you and you agree to wake up how adorable i think i’m going to cry over my own work damn I’m weird

If he ever see you looking even a little tiered he will steal you away and you will cuddle

Arthotthur

Heart attack nr.2

oh no wait my bird is just sleeping

he’s not happy

ok let me rephrase that

he’s happy that you are happy but he’s not ok with the fact that you have overworked yourself and on top of that he’s beating himself up for not noticing earlier

he’s debating whether you’d be more pissed if he carried you to your room* or if he woke you up when something catches his attentive eye

you where studying to get a bachelor's degree in English whaaaaaat!

will go through your notes and

when he finds out you want to become a writer.....

Omg fanboy mode: activate

“ I didn’t know I had such an effect on you Luv”

you: say wut? Arthur I became writer because I wanted to

Now you two run around n the corridors smiling like dorks and narrating random events when your free and he writes next to you when you study ( to keep and eye on you. He loves you so much)

* if that doesn’t apply to you I’m sorry. I try to write from another persons prospective, but a lot of my writing is based of my reactions to a situation or my personality. In this case I’d be pissed if he left my stuff there or went into my room ( it’s my sanctuary ok my disaster). And waking me up oh no bitch run. But on a serious note don’t be mad if it doesn’t fit your description, and if it didn’t and you want me to change something feel free to let me know. Ok next victim:

Theo

to say he’s pissed is an understatement

he’s pissed at you for taking it to far but he’s pissed at himself a lot little more for not noticing sooner

like his bff he’ll also be contemplating taking you to bed rather then yelling you awake like witch one will end up in a bigger slap

then he notices what you are studying

art

when you are done with this you are literally going to get an art degree

Theo ex. has stopped working

he is getting emotional on the inside

will gently take you to bed and tuck you in

he’ll pat your head “ Creative Hondjie”. He has such a gentle smile on his face god I can picture it I’m crying

from then on when you have a project he will help criticize you and he will help you progress with your art

will be keeping an eye on you 25/7 yes 25 this guy will create a time loop if it meant that you had more time to do the things you love (ahem Theo) xd no

all in all he will be just a little softer with you, but only you. And will also deny it if somebody points it out

Vincent

Let’s all just sit down, take a moment and appreciate Vincent

He will see you passed out and he will PANIC

he will rush up to you and make sure you are ok

also waking you up in the process

he will ask what you are studying

“sooo you want to become a chef”

Pffffffff we all know poor baby is parallel with cooking

like he will burn water

is super supportive tho gee who would have thought

this boy is an angel and will help you cook

Jesus I hope Comte has fire insurance

you have a lot of fun with him and he will actually end up learning a few things form you.

will make sure you never overwork yourself again

Dazai

this dork almost stepped on you

you had passed out under you window , ‘cause you had been studying on the floor

and this guy came waltzing in through the window

“Toshiko-san? Toshikooooo shit”

*cricket sounds* yup

he will squat down next to you and poke your cheek

“ what are you doing on the floor?” you: “what are you doing in my room?”

OOOOH GOT ‘EM

you two of you will laugh about it and he will ask you what you are studying

you proudly shove your text book under his nose

“ well well Toshiko-san want’s to take care of small animals?”

you: Yes, like Isaac

he’s not really fazed by you falling asleep but will make sure you don’t overwork and if he sees you getting tired he will crack a few terrible jokes to lighten your mood and then he will proceed to steel you away

Mozart

ok now clean freak here is going to be worried

not panicked just worried

uhum Wolf you keep telling yourself that

you where studying in the music room while Wolf was playing

suddenly he heard a thump

he stopped and looked around only to find you passed out on the table

seems like the all-nighter combined with the music led you to fall asleep

he’s frozen for a hot second until he realizes you are just sleeping

he will slowly walk up to you and poke you with a broom ‘cause he doesn’t want to touch you

Jkjk

he will go up to you and gently attempt to shake you awake when he notices what your studying

you where studying music

“Marry me?”

he will wake you up and question you about it

from that moment on he actually helps you a little when you don’t get something and you study in the music room at all times because” it’s noisy outside”

we know you just care about her Mozart

Sebastian

he flicks your forehead

that’s it. Thant’s the canon

no I’m kidding he knows how much you study and is worried about you even before you pass out

and when you do that’s it

he scoops you up and takes you to your bed

he only flicks your forehead when you wake up

yeah you get an ear full from him

he asks what you are studying and tell him you want a degree in history

ok suddenly he’s not mad at you

from that moment on he always makes sure you are not over working

he actually shows you his notebook and you find it fascinating

now you both collectively stalk the residents

William

y’all aren’t ready for this

when he sees you passed out in the garden he’s ready to pull out a gun and kill anyone and everyone who dared harm you

then he realizes you’re actually sleeping and he calms down a bit ( he’ll keep the gun tho shhhhh don’t tell Comte)

he will gently pat your hair and just look at you

when you wake up he will ask you what you are studying

you are a complete blushing mess when you tell him you want to become an actress

he’s shooketh and also really happy at the same time

now he takes you with him to the theater and he gives you a role to play and he watches while you practice

he’s also super attentive and will never let you overwork yourself again

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Stay safe everyone! 😘😘😘

#ikemen vampire #asks #cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikemen vampire jean #ikemen vampire napoleo #ikemen vampire dazai #ikemen vampire arthur #ikemen vampire comte

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thewhitejournal · 4 years ago

Text

“Just One More Night” Part Three

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

hello everyone! i’m so sorry i haven’t been uploading, life has just been a little crazy lately but i’m going to try to upload more frequently, i promise. in the meantime, here’s part three. and it’s a little lengthy, i hope you all like it! much love 🤍

content warnings: descriptions of pain, cursing, implication of sexual assault, cutting (not self inflicted)

masterlist

You slowly slipped into consciousness, a pinching, tight feeling on your wrists and at your ankles. The room was dark, or were you blindfolded? Your eyes didn’t feel like they were shut, but maybe they were; your senses were all fucked. You couldn’t tell where you were or what was happening. You felt your heart quicken in your chest as you realized the full extent of the danger you were in.

A searing pain suddenly spread through your body, the origin of it you were unsure of. But it was worse than anything you’d ever felt. You clenched your jaw and your body tensed at the sensation flowing through your body. Suddenly, the distant sound of footsteps grew louder. They were heavy and loud. The person they belonged to sounded like they were wearing boots.

A finger traced the bare skin on your shoulder. You kicked yourself internally for picking such a thin and strappy dress to wear to graduation. The finger looped under the shoulder straps for your dress and bra, tugging them down your shoulder. Tears you didn’t even realize were there slid past the blindfold and down your cheeks, making their way down your throat. A rough hand grazed over your now bare shoulder, tracking down your chest.

“Now, now, don’t cry, Miss (Y/N). Though, I can see why Agent Hotchner liked you so much…” His low voice whispered in your ear. You physically recoiled away from him as much as possible with your restraints. He grunted in a dissatisfied tone, his hand suddenly clasping around your throat, and you could feel his body heat in your space, his hot breath on your face. “Don’t ever squirm away from me, bitch.” He shoved you from his grasp. A sharp, stinging pain radiated on your cheek as he slapped you.

“Let’s try this again.”, he muttered, hitting what sounded like a button or switch. A song you couldn’t place filled the room. It was the type of music you might associate with Frank Sinatra, a smooth and easy jazz sound to it. But you could tell it was meant to be some kind of love song, a song that you might’ve put on to warm up before having…

The realization hit you like a dozen freight trains. “Let me go, please, I won’t tell anyone.”, you pleaded, your voice raspy. Your throat felt raw like you hadn’t had anything to drink for days. Maybe you hadn’t.

“But then, how would anyone know about me? How would they know we had fun together, hm, princess?” More tears slid down your cheeks as his fingers pulled your other shoulder straps down, his other hand sliding up your dress. He roughly massaged your breast, leaving slimy kisses down your neck. The tears came rushing now, but not a sound slipped from your lips. On the inside, you were screaming. But you tried not to show weakness to him, afraid of the repercussions.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N)...”, he groaned. Suddenly, you heard what sounded like a pocket knife being opened. The cold metal slid up your dress, catching on the seam and ripping it open. A cold breeze hit your chest and stomach as he ripped the dress open all the way, your entire front exposed now. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden temperature change, and he chuckled at you.

His sweaty finger prodded a bruise on your breast. “Is this from him?”, he whispered with a tone you could only describe as hateful and jealous. “Don’t worry,”, you could feel his breath on your chest, the knife making a return and barely slicing the skin on your stomach, “I’ll give you some new ones.”

You whimpered as he sliced the skin in between your breasts; it didn’t feel like a deep cut, but it sure as fuck hurt. The feeling of your warm blood trickled down your stomach. The new cut was pulsing, blood rushing to it in an attempt to repair the skin. His lips trailed sticky and slimy kisses up your thigh, his clammy hands playing with the hem of your underwear, starting to tug them down.

At that moment, you’d wished he’d just killed you already.

The sudden sound of a door being kicked to the ground made you jump, and you felt the man tense up, too. “FBI, drop the knife, now!”, a voice sounded out behind you that you didn’t recognize at first, but then you realized who it was. It was Aaron. The man in front of you didn’t seem to move. You were elated to hear Aaron’s voice again; you thought you never would.

“Or what, what’re you going to do, Agent Hotchner?” The man taunted; you could hear a sly smile in his voice.

“I will shoot you fucking dead, now drop the knife.” His voice boomed again. Your captor chuckled, the sound of a knife clattering to the ground. A gunshot rang out and you jumped again, the thud of the man in front of you falling and hitting the ground.

The sound of rushing footsteps that you knew belonged to Aaron grew closer. A thick coat draped over your body, the smell of Aaron’s cologne wafted all around you. You already felt better. He cradled your face in his hands. “(Y/N), oh my god, I’m so sorry.”, he muttered. Someone else was working at the cuffs on your wrists and your ankles. A waterfall of tears fell from your eyes as you fell forward into Aaron’s arms, freed from your restraints. You sobbed into his shoulder, and he took you into his arms, gently rubbing your back and hushing you in a comforting way.

You knew a dead man was lying in front of you, and suddenly, you were thankful for the blindfold. Aaron’s fingers started working at the knot that held it to your face, but you placed your hand on top of his, and his fingers quit moving. “I don’t want to see this, Aaron.”, you whispered into his ear, your voice breaking. You felt his head nod on your shoulder.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

Under the cover of Aaron’s jacket, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal style out into the cold, night air. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you took in his warmth and smell; he was your happy place. You could dimly tell from behind the blindfold the lights from their SUVs were flashing. He gently let you down onto the ground, standing with his body in front of yours. You assumed he was giving you cover from everyone else as he zipped you up in his huge jacket. His fingers made quick work of the blindfold, and it fell to the pavement.

“He fucking hurt you…”, you heard him mutter under his breath, your blood on his hands and his shirt. His hand caressed your face, his eyes softening as they took you in. Knowing Aaron, he’d blame himself for not only the actual blood on his hands but in the metaphorical sense as well.

For the first time, you noticed the lights from the police cars. They nearly blinded you, the change from darkness to such brightness knocking you back. A paramedic approached the two of you, asking you to come with them to the hospital. Hotch waved them off for now, and you looked at Aaron, tears pushing against your eyes. He took your hands, rubbing his thumbs on your skin.

“I’m not leaving you, (Y/N).” His tone was serious and most of all, reassuring. You peeked around him to see some familiar faces and some not, looking over at the two of you. They looked concerned and intrigued at the same time.

“What about your team?”, you asked quietly. He turned to them, then back to you.

“Wait at the ambulance. Tell them not to leave without me. I’ll be right back.” He suddenly pulled you against him, careful of your wounds, and wrapped his arms around you. You pretended, even if for only a moment, that nothing was wrong. That it was only the two of you, and you hadn’t just been kidnapped and nearly raped by some man who had likely done this to other women. You felt Aaron’s lips place a long and soft kiss on your hair, and he pulled away, dark chocolate eyes searching your face. You gave him a weak smile and he returned one, kissing your forehead. You got the feeling he didn’t want to leave.

Treading over to the ambulance, a paramedic immediately helped you up into the back and laid you down on the bed. He asked if you had any injuries, and you said you did, telling him where. He reassured you he’d take a look on the way to the hospital, and reached over to shut the doors.

“Wait-“, you said, causing him to pause. He turned and looked at you, waiting for whatever you had to say. “We have to wait on my…” You were at a loss for words. The man raised an eyebrow at you, and you didn’t feel the need to elaborate because you saw Aaron rushing over. The paramedic immediately realized, letting him in and telling his partner they were ready to go.

Aaron sat at your head, resting a hand on your cheek. “I’m right here.”, he whispered, gently stroking your skin. The EMT said he needed to take a look at your wounds, and reluctantly, you agreed. Aaron could tell you were tense, and he placed a kiss on your forehead, reassuring you without words.

The EMT unzipped Aaron’s jacket and furrowed his brows at the sight of your cut like he was trying to decide what to do with it. You felt exposed again, and you wished once more he’d have just killed you to save you this embarrassment. He turned and grabbed something in a bottle that you assumed was some type of disinfectant, then glanced up at you. “This’ll probably hurt, I’m sorry.”, he muttered, giving you time to prepare. You reached your right hand towards Aaron, grasping in the air for his hand. He took it without hesitation, squeezing it softly, stroking his thumb over the skin of your hand.

The paramedic started slowly flushing your wound, and it fucking burned. You clenched your jaw so tight you were afraid you might break your teeth. The pain was so blinding you were afraid you’d pass out, and you started feeling a bit lightheaded, the pain searing through you. You hated how hard you were probably squeezing Aaron’s hand, but surely he wouldn’t mind. You heard the paramedic mutter an apology under his breath as he dabbed the wound with gauze, and you exhaled sharply, the wound no longer bubbling with a stream of disinfectant. Aaron stroked his thumb over your hand comfortingly.

“We’re going to give you some pain medication, it may make you drowsy, is that okay?” You weren’t sure who exactly he was asking, you or Aaron, but you nodded with all the strength you had. At some point, he’d hooked up an IV to your left arm, and you watched him inject medication into the port in your arm. Almost immediately, it was a battle to keep your eyes open.

“Get some sleep, honey. I’ll be here when you wake up. I love you, (Y/N).”, Aaron whispered in your ear, placing a soft, tender kiss on your temple. That was the last thing you heard before slipping into a deep sleep, the feeling of the road underneath the tires lulling you to sleep.

You woke up with a start from a nightmare, but its details faded as quickly as they came. You’d hoped the whole abduction thing had been just an awful dream, but alas, the smell of a sterile hospital hit your nose. The beeping sound next to you was ringing in your ears; the sound of the beeps seemed to quicken in their pace. Suddenly, a warm hand grasped your arm, gently stroking it. They shushed you in a low voice, trying to calm you down.

Your body was in pain. You’d never felt pain like this before; it was like every single muscle in your body had been strained or pulled the wrong way. You just felt sore, weak. Even a little dead. You still weren’t sure that you hadn’t passed on, and this was some bizarro version of your afterlife.

As much energy as it took to open your eyes, you did it anyway, curious to see who sat at your bedside. Even though you were pretty sure you knew who it was anyway. A certain supervisory special agent and unit chief came to mind. You turned your head, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights above you to see the soft and concerned features of Aaron Hotchner’s face.

“(Y/N)... I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am for what happened to you, this would’ve never happened if you’d have never met me, and-“, he started rambling, but you lifted a weak finger to his lips to stop his word vomit.

“Aaron. Don’t apologize. I’m glad I met you and that’s never going to change.”, you whispered, too weak to use the full extent of your voice. He just gave you a sad smile in response, lifting your wrist that’d recently fallen from the air to his lips. Cautiously though, like he’d break you if he moved too fast. He shut his eyes as he placed a long kiss on your skin, trailing quick kisses up your arm. A weak smile fell on your lips, and you exhaled, sighing with content. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open, scanning over your face, a huge smile on his.

“I missed that smile.”, he whispered, leaning into your space. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you kissed him back as strongly as you could, which wasn’t saying much. You could tell he wanted to be more passionate, but he was holding back for your sake. You wish it didn’t have to be this way. Suddenly, you heard his phone buzzing in his pocket. You frowned as he pulled away to answer it. His eyes widened a bit as he looked at the screen. You knew what that look meant, and your heart dropped a little at the realization.

It was Haley, Aaron’s soon to be ex-wife. She’d left him months ago, right when you’d first met him. That was one of the reasons they’d taken him out that night; the boys wanted to give him a well deserved night off. They would’ve been officially divorced by now, but Aaron works so often and Haley still hasn’t delivered him the papers, so everything was at a standstill.

Not only was she tired of him never being home, she decided to use you as an excuse, too. Even though she’d left him before the night you two met. So you weren’t particularly fond of her. Aaron, on the other hand, was in between a rock and a hard place. The woman he used to love but was still the mother to his son and the woman he loved now but he’d gone against their original agreement. He didn’t want there to be any tension, but with the situation, that was near impossible. You felt at fault, even though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong.

He sighed defeatedly as he took the call, a look on his face that could only be described as a mixture of anger and exhaustion crossing over his skin. He stepped out into the hallway, leaving you to take everything in. You looked around the room for the first time, in-depth. Bouquets were sat on the countertop in the corner of the room, but you couldn’t quite make out who they were from. A bag of bloody clothes sat in the chair that Aaron hadn’t been occupying. You cringed, the memories flooding back. You’d be burning those clothes.

You heard a sudden, faint buzzing from beside you. You slowly turned your head to the sound, realizing it to be your phone on the nightstand. It was a number you hadn’t saved in your contacts, but you reached for it to answer it anyway. Sliding the button over to take the call, you cleared your throat, holding your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”, you answered softly, your voice still weak from not having been used.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?”, a kind-sounding female voice inquired.

You furrowed your brows. It wasn’t often you got a call like this. It slipped your mind what it could be for.

“This is she.”, you replied. Aaron was still on the phone in the hall, but he heard you speaking and poked his head in, a confused look on his face. You imagined your face looked about the same.

“You recently applied for the liaison and/or special agent internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, is that correct?”

‘Recently’ was a strong word. You’d applied before you met Aaron, before you knew he worked there. It was nearly at the beginning of your senior year; you’d forgotten about it, honestly. You didn’t think they were going to call you back. You sat up straighter in bed, clearing your throat again.

“Y-yes, yes I did.” Aaron quickly muttered what you assumed was a ‘goodbye’ to Haley, walking back in the room and sitting next to you again. He silently asked you what the call was about, and you frantically shushed him, waving your hand in his face. He playfully rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. He grabbed your hand from the air and held it in his lap, stroking his thumb over your fingers.

“Well, I’m delighted to tell you that I’ve selected you as my apprentice. Congratulations! I’ll email you more details at the address you’d previously provided me with, but I just wanted to call you personally and deliver the good news. I look forward to working with you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

You were speechless. A smile so indicative of happiness that it bared all your teeth fell on your face, and you just wanted to scream. “T-thank you so much! I look forward to it too!” She said a quick goodbye, and you returned it.

Aaron chuckled at your excitement. “What’s the good news?”, he asked you, placing a soft kiss on your knuckle. You tossed your phone onto your bed, moving to hug Aaron so fast you almost ripped out your IV. He recoiled with surprise, but quickly embraced you, laughing at you. You pulled back, planting a kiss on his lips, and then another, and another. He chuckled deeply in between kisses, returning the gesture.

His phone was buzzing again, interrupting your celebration. Why did it always have to happen when you were kissing? You pouted as he picked it up, a confused look on his face. You could hear the voice on the other end:

“Hey Hotch, I know you said not to call you today but I finally took care of the apprenticeship and I just wanted to let you know.”

His eyes grew wide.

“Uh, that’s um, that’s great JJ. Send me the information about the applicant you picked. I’ll call you later about it.” You smiled at him with a shit-eating grin.

“Sure thing, boss. Talk to you later.”

He hung up the phone, lightly tossing it onto the nightstand next to him.

“I already have the applicant’s information, don’t I?”, he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Probably more than is appropriate for a place of work.”

taglist:

@andromedasstarship

@mac99martin

@laycblack

@art-and-thoughts

@bellamy1998

@yoshigguk

@marie1115

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@quitepointless

@thegirlwiththepurpleshelves

@midsummernightdream

@pemik-a

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hybridfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Owner Training - 9

- Lonely Kitten -

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he’s jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he’d worried he’d pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

“Work?” he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, kay?”

He hums and smacks his lips. “Don’t stay too late. You’ve been working too much.”

He had a point. You’ve already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

“I won’t. Today should be an easy day.”

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

“Promise?”

“Sure, baby. I promise. Love you.”

“Love,” is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You’d gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you’d find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn’t even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn’t even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you’d brought it up at your last review, you’d been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you’d been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they’d hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn’t know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

“L/N, I’m going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks,” Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he’d just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)

You’d get out of here eventually. Somehow. For now, you simply pull the packets closer and get to work.

Yoongi is going to kill you.

****

When you arrive home and finally kick off your heels with a happy sigh, it suddenly hits you that your apartment is silent. No TV, no booming rap music, not even the blessed sounds of cooking that your empty stomach had been looking forward to.

“Yoongi?”

“Nice of you to join us.”

You jump as he mumbles the words, finally pinpointing him in the corner of the dining room. He’s lounging in one of the chairs with his arms folded, his eyes screaming his disappointment.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“Late, she says. It’s past midnight,” he scoffs.

“I know! I was going to leave earlier but I got stuck with some extra work.”

“You promised.”

His tone hurts you and you feel horrible.

He reaches out his hand, looking you dead in the eye...and pushes your vase of wildflowers right onto the floor.

The glasses crashes everywhere and he merely sits back and looks at the mess with a slight smirk.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

He shrugs. “It was in my way.”

“Why do you... aw hell ,” you whisper, feeling tears well in your eyes.

Suddenly, he leans foreword, looking at you with alarm. “Why the fuck are you crying? No, wait , stop that.”

“I’m so so-sorry,” you hiccup, as your tears turn to wails. “I’m a horrible person and a horrible girlfriend. I can’t do anything right. I’m a failure.”

Yoongi rushes to you and crouches down, pulling you into his chest.

“No, you’re amazing. The best. I’m just throwing a tantrum like a baby because I miss you. I’m sorry, I’ll be better,” he croons, petting your back frantically in an attempt to comfort you.

You lean into his touch and let yourself cry until chest and throat throb in pain too much to continue. Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Better?” me mutters, and you nod your head, finally looking up at him. His eyes are red too, with tear tracks down his cheek. You swipe at them and he kisses your hand.

“Sorry,” you whisper hoarsely, and he shakes his head.

“No need. I’m sorry I was being a brat.”

“You have a point though. I’m never home.”

“Because you’re literally working to take care of us.”

“Yeah, but...even I know that they are working me too much. I’ve never been so stressed in my life, Yoongi. And today I had to literally watch some kid cry and be torn away from the foster family that’s been raising him since he was two weeks old and be given to his druggie mother who he’s seen once in three years. I just...how is that okay?”

“It’s not. Not everyone has as big a heart as you, love.”

You grunt and relax into his touch as he pets your hair soothingly.

“If you could find something else, what would you do?”

You consider the question. “I’m not sure. I think there’s still a part of me that desires to help and make a difference, but then there’s the me that’s been at this for awhile that isn’t sure that’s realistic. I’d still work in law, but...I don’t know. I don’t know who would actually need me.”

He hums and tilts your head up. “Want some tea?”

“Yes please,” you smile softly as he stands up and reaches out a hand to help you up.

He peeks sheepishly at the glass and gestures for you to go sit on the couch.

“I’ll clean it up”

“Seriously though, Yoongi. My vase?”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling the urge to push that off the table for a few days and I just used that as an excuse. I’ve also been eyeing the wine glass display, but I’ve held off since I actually use those,” he chuckled on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare. Bad Kitty.”

“Kinky,” he hums, then you hear the click of the electric kettle.

You wait in silence, exhausted after your outburst of emotion. Truthfully, it was probably long-due. A few minutes later Yoongi returns and hands you a mug full of lemon and ginger tea, blowing on his own mug as he settles in next to you.

“I had a thought,” he rumbles after taking a sip.

“Finally,” you snort, grinning when he pinches you.

“You never call in sick or go anywhere so you probably have a shit load of vacation time saved up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I should have at least a couple weeks worth. I usually just cash out at the end of the year.”

“Take it. Let’s go on vacation. No sense killing yourself over a job you hate, and I want to spend some time with you.”

You sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Yeah, you’re right. Where shall we go?”

He shrugs. “Jeju? I don’t know. I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere with a nice bed and I get to see you in a bikini”

You pinch him and he laughs unapologetically.

“You know I love you right? No matter how much I’m away or if we are having some stupid fight - I love you,” you ask, your voice soft and a little shy.

He picks up your free hand and places a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“I love you too, even when I’m being a brat or when you forget to pick up ice cream.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a man of refined tastes.”

****

Notes:

Why are my cats always knocking shit off my counters?

Also, I had a few requests from people who wanted to send me fanart. You can email it to me at [email protected] or tag me on here. I’d love to see it.

I think I have a twitter made but I can't remember it right now lmao. If anyone wants that I'll try to find it later.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #hybrid!bts #hybrid!yoongi #cat hybrid!yoongi #hybrid fanfiction #fanfiction #yoongi

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lovely-yandere-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Zipper Man Gives me the Moody Blues: Part 1

Hello lovelies~! I’m here with another commission! with poly BruAbba! If you’d like to commission me you can find the link right here or in my bio!

Notes: 18+ ONLY! This is part 1 on a 2 part commission! This is set a few years after the events of part 5 where Abbacchio has gotten his job back at the police station and even got a promotion thanks to his mafia friends.

Pairing: Poly Yandere!Bruno x Police Chief!Abbacchio x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Mention of murder, unhealthy relationships, Bruno is delusional and has a daddy kink, Abbacchio is manipulative and has a corruption kink, this one is pretty tame compared to part 2

Word count: 1,530

Description: Bruno unknowingly kills someone in front of reader and they run to Police Chief Abbacchio for help but doesn’t realize Abba is married to the very man they’re running from.

The horrible sound of body parts landing on the ground with a slosh still fills your mind as you run. Thankfully Bruno didn’t see you spying on him so you were able to slip away quietly and get some distance between you in case he realized he was being watched. You made your way to the police station, you had to tell someone about this but none of the cops would believe you or they could have been paid off by Passione. The very same mafia you expected your boyfriend to be a part of.

Hopefully, if you went straight to the Chief of Police, Leone Abbacchio, he would believe you. He had a great approval rating and he was seen as one of the only good officers in the whole city. Chief Abbacchio was part of the reason crime has been so low recently since he was elected, drug crimes were low and the streets have been much safer to walk at night, apart from Bruno’s killings Naples has been relatively safe.

If only you knew what waited for you after you had stepped through the doors at the police station, you had your mind made up, you didn’t even bother speaking a word to the receptionist as you walked past them and ignored their words of protest, Finally making your way to Chief Abbacchio’s office and pushing open the door with a determined face.

Leone was stunned to see you there so late at night but he quickly regained his composure and before he can get out a word you say “Sir, I’m sorry to barge into you so suddenly but I have some information on the murders that have been happening recently and-” Abbacchio cuts you off and asked bluntly “Well what can I do for you, you storm into my office like you own the place and now you’re telling me you have information on the Zipperman murders and you expect me to believe you?”

You feel like your heart is going to burst and call feel the tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, if Chief Abbacchio won't believe you then you might just be killed by the very man you called your lover. “Sir I really am sorry to disturb you but this is a matter of life or death in my case…” you grimace at the thought of Bruno finding out you went to the police. Abbacchio sighs and finally specks “Frankly doll, you look like you’ve seen a ghost...tell me what you got and then we’ll decide if it really is life or death as you say.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you and you start from the beginning, about how you had been suspicious of Bruno in Passione and how you decided to follow him tonight. How you witnessed him dismember someone without even touching them and how you’re now practically begging for Abbacchio to believe you. You also tell him how he’s the only person you could have gone to with this because you know that the cops have been being paid off by Passione.

Abbacchio sighs and smiles at you “Well I’m very impressed, it seems you’ve pieced everything together perfectly, I’m glad you came to me with this information Y/n. And with your testimony we’ll finally make the streets of Naples safe together, that is if you will testify against Bruno that is..” He sees your hesitation and how you seem to tense up, you hadn’t even thought of testifying against Bruno, the thought made you head swarm and you could feel a tightness in your chest.

“No no no! He’ll kill me you don’t understand! I can't!” you feel like you’re hyperventilating before Abbacchio puts his hand on your shoulder and tries to calm you down “Hey! Hey, it’s okay, I won't let him hurt you, I promise,” he thinks for a minute and looks you in the eye “I don’t think it’s safe here or for you to go back home, it would be best if you came back to my place so I can protect you.” You look up at him with a tear-stained face and nod and with that, he can’t help but feel his heartache for you.

Abbacchio takes you out of the back exit just in case anyone sees you leaving and ushers you into his car and within a few minutes you are at his house, it is situated in a really nice neighborhood and you can't help but think all the houses around look like miniature mansions, “I guess being Chief of Police pays pretty well huh…” you say absentmindedly you thoughts are cut off by Abbacchio’s laugh, “It does most days but it’s mostly long hours” He winks at you and you can feel yourself begin to blush. He soon guides you inside and gets you situated in the guest room.

“Are you hungry? Or thirsty? I’ll get you anything you want” You politely decline the offer of food but then ask “Actually if you have any I’d like a glass of wine, it helps me relax after a long day… or well night I guess” Abbacchio smiles and he is quick to return from the kitchen with a bottle and two wine glasses full of the red liquid. “I hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and poured myself a glass as well” you shake your head and insist that it's alright as he joins you on the bed.

“So...this is a little awkward but uh, I like your makeup Abbacchio, I don't really know a lot about gothic culture but it um...it looks nice on you!” you say cheerfully and Abbacchio smiles at you again. “You know Y/n, you can call me Leone, I have a feeling that we’ll be spending a lot of time together” He places his hand on your thigh and feel your heart racing and cheeks began to blush before you look down and can clearly see the wedding ring on his finger as you feel the color drain from your face.

“Is your wife going to be okay with me being here, Leone?” you ask quietly and he laughs again before answering “My husband actually, and I don't think he’s going to mind at all, you see we’re in an open relationship. I think he will be very pleased to have you here honestly” You can’t help but blush as you finish the last of your wine. “I’m glad he won't mind...so what music do you like?” you ask as he pours you more wine and you can see him ponder the question for a few seconds before he answers “I like a lot of different rock bands like The Moody Blues, The Cure, Joy Division, Type O Negative, and Depeche Mode... You know the basic goth stuff” He says with a laugh that makes your heart flutter a bit.

Oh, I really like Joy Division and The Cure too” you say cheerfully as you quickly finish your second glass and now begin to start on your third as you start to feel the effects of the wine starting to hit you. “You know, if it wasn’t for you Leone, I’d probably be dead by now…” he says nothing for a moment and then caresses your face and give you a sweet smile that could make any girl smile “You shouldn’t think about stuff like that Mimma, let's talk-”

You cut him off and quickly spit out “No its truuuue! If you hadn't listened to me I would be dead by now, Bruno would have killed meeee! Can you believe that ash hole, he’s been lying to me from the beginning! I can’t believe I gave that-that MONSTER my first kiss!! At least I didn't give him MY VIRGINITY” he watches you in your drunken rambling and quickly cups your chin and gives you a passionate kiss.

“Shhh, it's okay Piccolo, you don’t have to worry about him hurting you. I promise” Leone reassures you but before you can say anything you both hear a knock on the door and he shouts for the person to come in. In your drunken state, you can barely make out the tall figure that must be Abbacchio’s husband who has an all too familiar face and white suit.

“Well, well, well...I certainly wasn’t expecting this, Leone would you mind explaining to me why Bambina here is drunk?” you can see the man shoots Abbacchio a glare. He tries to explain but decides it best if he just shuts up. The second man makes is way over to the bed and lowers himself down to you and you can’t help but feel the horror and dread building in you as the man brushes your hair behind your ear and you can finally make out the distant features of your former lovers face, then Bruno finally speaks “It’ll be so nice having you here with us baby girl, we’ll finally be a family” He kisses your forehead and you can help the chill that goes down your spine. Your fate was sealed as soon as you walked into Abbacchio’s Office.

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