#and its so sad to watch them throw him around like that

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Angel - Part 8

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Where's the reader? Includes the previous sneak peek.

Chapter Warning: Brief mention of previous attack.

You’re sitting on a roof somewhere in Queens when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You knew damn well you’d turned it off.

When you pull it out you see a coded message appear. The fact someone has managed to turn on your secure device and send you a message makes you feel uneasy. You glance around but don’t see anyone.

It takes a moment to establish what the message says but you realise the message is from Stark. He seems to be giving you a location.

You know Natasha’s slipped everyone’s numbers into your phone so you take the chance and send him a message.

You - Is this a mission or a safe house?

Tony - Well hello to you too Luna.

You - Please don’t call me that.

Tony - Why? It’s what you are.

You - I didn’t realise you all knew.

Tony - Well we do. Honestly there was a lot of whispering going on I was concerned there was a plan to overthrow the government but it was actually all because of you.

You - I don’t really know what to say to that.

Tony doesn’t initially reply.

You - So which is it Stark? A safe house or a mission because its a mission I need more than a location.

Tony - I’m not about to send our Luna onto a mission when she’s still recovering. It’s a safe house. One of my own personal ones. It’s fancy, has everything you need, cupboards filled, every streaming service you can imagine. Highly secure too. The others don’t even know about it.

You - You don’t have to do this Tony. I’m grateful but you really don’t have to. I don't want to make things awkward for you.

Tony - As much as you don’t want to admit it kid, you’re the Luna, I’m meant to be the pack Beta, although that’s not working out so well for me right now but that’s another story. I have a responsibility to make sure you’re okay. So please do what Mom and Dad ask and go to the safe house. It has a pool. It’s in the Hamptons.

A pool and the Hamptons did sound nice. Wait did he just call himself Dad?

You - Mom and Dad?

He replies with a photo of him and Pepper pulling sad faces.

You rolled your eyes.

You - Fine but don’t use that incredible woman and her sad face against me again.

You stood and put on your flight glasses and slipped your backpack back on your front. You pulled up your hood and pushed your wings out of your back. You weren’t sure where the new set of workout gear had come from but the set of leggings and matching zip up jacket that had appeared in the guest room drawer, fit you like a glove. Just as you were about to take flight you saw the Spider swinging around in the distance. Spiderling? Spiderboy? Whatever.

You pull out your phone and text Tony again.

You - You might want to check on the spider kid. Bruce told me you’d grounded him from his little street ops but I see him swinging right now.

Tony sends you another photo but this time it’s him looking exasperated.

You pocket your phone and take to the sky.

When Natasha gets home she finds a note with the watch she’d given you beside it.

You shouldn’t have done that without telling me. Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll be in touch.

She had no idea how you knew what her and the others had just done. You’ve said you’ll be in touch so you’ve not cut her off completely at least. Were you just pissed they’d not told you? A knock at the apartment door is followed by Clint and Wanda entering, both holding up similar notes.

Half an hour later Steve has summoned them all to the briefing room. It’s clear from the moment they step off the elevator that he’s pissed. The fact all of them refuse to say where they’ve been or what they’ve been doing makes it worse, as did him spotting Clint’s split knuckles. Steve’s ranting and Bucky’s sure he’s about to give an Alpha command to get them to give answers and not just the riddles they are giving now. He risks it and steps in.

“It’s about her, isn’t it?” Bucky asks.

They hide it well but he’s also an ex-assassin and the former Winter Solider sees the tells that confirm he’s right.

“She told me that it was complicated. That it was someone she used to trust.”

Natasha tilts her head slightly in interest.

“You spoke to her?”

“I did, she was having a tea out on the lawn with Pepper.”

The others turned to look at Tony.

“What? Oh if you’re asking me if he spoke to her, he did. Stepped in when super annoying number one got snippy with them too.” Tony replied.

“You did what?” Clint asked.

“Oh erm, Steve was…” Bucky went to reply before Clint cut him off.

“No not you! Him! You got snippy with them? With Y/N and Pepper?”

Steve took a breath and put his hands on his hips.

“I wanted to know where you were. I knew something was going on.”

It takes everyone by surprise when Clint starts moving to the door.

“You know what Rogers, fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit. I’ve been on your side through this whole thing. I'm away from my family, out of retirement to help cover the work whilst the dust settles. Putting everything I have on the line again, and you can stand there and make demands all you want but knowing you’ve been shitty to my pack sisters, one who also happens to be the Luna, when she’s dealing with enough right now, means I’m done. Come on.” He says to the others. “What we did today was to keep our girl safe. All whilst you were making a shitty first impression. Go fuck yourself.”

Clint leaves the room, with Wanda, Natasha, Vision and Bruce following.

Steve growls and takes a step to go after them. Bucky steps in front of him.

“Don’t.”

Steve huffs and throws himself down into one of the briefing room chairs. Realisation washing over him that he really had fucked up.

A few days later…..

Your mind wandered as you laid out on the lounger. As much as Stark had become a pain in your ass, he had good taste in safe houses. The Hamptons was a step up from hiding in a ditch in Scotland, plus every single one of your favourite foods were in the kitchen, and the cashmere blanket Pepper had apparently picked out especially for you, was definitely a special touch.

But your mind wandered to the last week. What a fucking week.

Get attacked my another agent ✔️

Have other agent threaten to throw you in The Raft ✔️

Run off and be extracted by your pack sister and brothers ✔️

Meet your true mates ✔️

Leave the compound without telling anyone ✔️

Receive a coded message from Stark directing you to his fancy pants safe house ✔️

You decided to distract yourself and the sound of the birds tweeting accompanied you as you read your latest smutty book. One of Laura’s recommendations. As the afternoon sun shone down on you your eyelids felt heavy and you could feel the pull of sleep.

You jumped as it was pulled away from you as your phone rang. Frowning you'd set it so only Tony, Pepper and Storm could call you. To everyone else it was on dark mode. Only one person would have the balls to override it.

“This better be good Romanoff.” You snarked, voice still croaky as you recovered.

“We have a situation.”

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @vicmc624 @elissanatok

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @hnnhbananananana @otterlycanadian @cherlenovix @imdoingathingmom @saltedcoffeescotch @jstarr86 @sidraaaaaaaaa @capswife @forgetmenotsexy

@hi172826 @ladyzombiielove @blonde-bansheee @verytyrantcat @nancymcl

[petalbcrnes]

The hum of your computer fills the silence in the shared apartment, the soft buzz of the screen the only sound between you and JASON. You sit cross-legged, perched on your chair, eyes bleary as you stare down at the glowing document in front of you. It feels like it’s mocking you, its blankness echoing your tiredness.

It's late, but you force yourself to sift through the endless files. A groan escapes you as your head falls back against the chair, your thoughts wandering to anything but work.

Like the idea of cuddling with Jason, your sweet boyfriend, who's sprawled on the couch. His tired blue-green eyes peer at you through half-lidded lashes, never leaving your figure. The light from your screen casts a halo around you, highlighting his tired, almost pleading expression. His breathing is slow and steady, a quiet invitation: “Come to me. Sleep.”

Another soft sigh escapes him, a sound that’s part frustration, part yearning. His fingers curl around the arm of the couch, his head tilting to rest on it as his eyes follow you, his gaze heavy with a quiet sadness—as though the one thing he wants most is just out of reach.

“You know,” Jason says, his voice a careful balance of neutrality, “you can finish that tomorrow.” The soft, almost pleading tone sneaks through despite his efforts to keep it at bay.

You sigh again. “I could,” you murmur, distracted, trying to rationalize your stubbornness. “I just have to finish this.”

Jason hums thoughtfully, letting your words settle in his mind as he processes them. Then, a spark of an idea flickers in his gaze.

The next moment, you hear the shuffle of his movements—slippers sliding across the wooden floor, the faint squeak of leather from the couch. You glance up to find him standing over you, his soft, concerned eyes focused entirely on you. His expression tightens with worry, his lips pressing together, crow's feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Without a word, he steps closer, his face nuzzling against the crook of your neck.

“The only thing you need to do right now,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “is rest.”

“But—” you start, but your resistance is weak, and before you can protest further, he scoops you up, strong arms lifting you effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Jason!” you squeal, half-laughing, half-protesting.

“No buts,” he says, his voice laced with a teasing smirk. “You’re so stubborn.” You feel the playful pinch of his fingers on the soft flesh of your thigh, and despite yourself, you giggle.

You wriggle in his arms as he carries you toward the bedroom, his steps sure and steady. The sight of the ivory sheets on your bed is almost too much to resist—so inviting, so warm, like they’re calling to you. Finally, you relax in his embrace as he gently lowers you onto the bed.

A mischievous grin spreads across Jason's face as he watches you. You can’t help but chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine, I suppose this is nice.”

He snorts, clearly amused. “Suppose? Nice? This is perfect. Now sleep. You need it.”

“Okay, okay,” you relent with a soft smile. “It is perfect. But only because you’re here.”

Jason’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m always here with you.”

[hoshifighting]

svt reaction to you (their cold wife) getting sick

seungcheol doesn't show it, but he’s visibly panicked. seeing you so weak completely throws him off. “baby,” his voice cracks a little as he sits beside you, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “you need to rest, okay? i can handle everything, just let me take care of you.” he’s trying so hard not to show how worried he is, but his hand lingers on your forehead, watching you carefully. if you don’t listen, you’ll see him holding back tears, his jaw clenched tight. “don’t make the same mistakes ive made, my love. please, just let me help.”

jeonghan isn't really the type to outwardly panic, but you can see the way his eyes soften with worry. it makes him feel helpless. he’ll gently nudge you, a hand on your cheek, as if to check if you’re really that sick. “hey, you know i hate seeing you like this, you’re always so strong... i want to help you, but you're pushing me away. let me make you feel better, okay?” he watches you, biting his lip, not knowing what to do. it’s uncharacteristic of him to show concern so openly, but for you? he can’t hide it.

joshua's the one who has to step up, not your mom, or a family memeber. he’s gentle with you, always asking if you need anything, his hands warm as he adjusts the blankets around you. “babe, you’re the most important thing to me right now. let me take care of you,” you can see the way his shoulders tense whenever you push him away, the way his hands hesitate to touch you.

junhui isn’t good at handling sickness, especially when it’s you. he’s always been so carefree and lighthearted, but this situation makes him realize just how much he cares for you, even if its just a flu. when you’re sick, he tries his best to be quiet, doing everything for you without a word of complaint. “don’t you dare try to get up,” he warns gently, helping you lie back down when you try to move. “i’m gonna make sure you’re okay. please don’t push me away, i can’t stand it.” he hates seeing you like this, and it makes him feel lost.

hoshi, even though he tries to hide it, seeing you sick, lying in bed, is throwing him off. “no, no, you can’t be sick!” he says, pacing around the room. he tries to keep the mood light, but you can see it in his eyes—he’s desperate to help you feel better. when he notices you’re still not listening to him, he softens, sitting beside you and gently holding your hand. “i’m scared.” he admits quietly. “come on, smile just a little bit for me, alright?” he’ll throw in dance moves, trying to make you giggle through your fever. but when he sees you barely responding, the laughter dies down, and he’ll sit beside you, rubbing your arm softly.

wonwoo doesn’t know how to comfort someone when they’re sick, but he tries his best, even if it’s awkward. he’ll sit beside you, his hands restless, not sure where to place them. “you should be resting,” he says softly, watching you closely as you try to power through. when you try to push him away, he gently grabs your wrist. “i know you don’t like being helpless, but it’s okay to let me take care of you. understand?”

woozi is the type to hide his emotions, but when you're sick, he can’t stop his worry from seeping through. he’s quiet, observing you with sad puppy eyes. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know?” he says gently, brushing your hair from your forehead. “you think i don’t see how bad you’re feeling? you have to rest.” he will show up with every remedy he can think of. sStop pretending you’re not sick.”

minghao’ll sit with you, his hand gently resting on your leg, offering you drinks and food without pushing too hard. “you need anything else?” he’ll ask. if you seem uncomfortable, he’ll adjust the pillows or pull the blanket up around you. “rest, okay? i know you’re tough, but you’re allowed to take a break with me.”

mingyu hates seeing you in such a vulnerable state, and it makes him feel like its actually HIS fault? “hey, don’t give me that look,” he says, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you need to rest, alright? you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you this time.” he’ll be running around, grabbing medicine, making soup, doing anything he can. if you refuse to eat, he’ll do the “puppy eyes” thing, like please just do it for me. “y/n, you gotta eat something for me.” he’ll say, holding a spoon up like he’s feeding you a kid.

seokmin’s probably more emotional about it than anyone else, but he tries to hide it behind his warm, comforting words. “hey, hey, don’t try to be tough for me, okay?” he says softly, cupping your face in his hands. “i need you to get better. you’re always so strong, but now it’s my turn to take care of you. don’t shut me out.” he’s the type to almost act like everything’s fine to keep you from feeling bad, but when you’re not looking, you can tell he’s worrying “you need more water? how about some tea? i’ll make it extra special.” his attempts to cheer you up with bad jokes and soft, loving gestures will make you smile, even if you don’t feel like it.

seungkwan “no, no, no, no! not you too!” he says, pacing back and forth, clearly frantic. “you can’t be sick, that’s not allowed!” he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the way his eyes keep flicking back to you. “you want soup? Iill make the best soup ever. i’ll make it famous!” he says, putting on an exaggerated show as he tries to make you laugh.

vernon knows you don’t like being weak, but he refuses to let you go through it alone. “stop, you’re not pushing me away this time,” he says in the most serious tone you ever heard him, while he applies vic on your back. you’ll catch him watching you when he thinks you’re asleep, his hand softly brushing through your hair, a faint frown on his face. his way of saying “i need you to be okay” without actually saying it out loud.

chan’s soft, tender heart breaks when he sees you sick, but he’ll try his hardest not to overwhelm you. he’ll bring you everything you need, checking in on you constantly. “you’re not fooling me, y/n,” he says gently, pressing a hand to your forehead. “i know you’re not feeling well. you always take care of me... why wouldn't you let me take care of you this time? isn't that what boyfriends were made for?”

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why’re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[curseofaphrodite]

you and me.

REMUS LUPIN X FEM!READER | fluff

summary: the aftermath of fake dating. | kofi

Can I feel sad over breaking up with someone I never dated? Remus thought, sipping his glass of butterbeer.

Gryffindor had won their gazillionth Quidditch match in a row, and the party was in full swing. He might be the only person not intoxicated, but the urge to let that record go became more and more persistent when he watched you laughing with that blonde prick from Ravenclaw.

Why are Ravenclaws even allowed in here? Didn't they freaking lose to Gryffindor?

"Yeah mate, but Darcy is an exception 'cause our Y/N likes him," Sirius explained, his words slurring.

"Did I say that out loud?" Remus wondered, looking at his butterbeer. "This is my first glass. How can I be drunk already?"

"My beautiful girlfriend," James sighed, patting Lily's head — who was already asleep on his lap. "Had the beautiful idea to do a Refill Charm on all utensils, so your first glass will always stay your first glass."

Remus groaned. "For Prefects, you guys do a lot of troublemaking."

"Hogwarts nearing its end, Moony," James said dreamily, his eyes soft as can be. "It's the season to let all hell break loose."

Remus grunted something inaudible, which Sirius found funny. He fell from the couch laughing.

"Woah, woah," James turned his mom-mode on. "No more refilling glass for you, Pads."

"Take it away from him first," Sirius pointed at Lupin. "He's the one crying over his ex-girlfriend."

"I thought they were just fake-dating?"

"We were!" Remus said defensively.

"For Darcy to get jealous?"

"Yes."

"And he did get jealous so they broke up?"

"We all know the story, thank you very much."

"Oh my god Sirius, do you think Remus fell in love with Y/N while they were fake dating?"

"Can you please stop talking like I'm not here!" Lupin said, throwing his hands up in protest. "Y/N is dumb to go after him and I would never like her. Most importantly, I do not like that asshole Darcy, who got the name and character of an egoistic 18th-century pig! She only liked him because he's hot and popular!"

Silence fell among your friends, one that seemed like he was in trouble. Following their line of gaze, he turned around to see you towering over him, your hands on your hips and an unmistakable hurt look.

"Y/N—"

"Is that what you think of me?" you asked softly, anger slowly tinting your voice. "And of Darcy? You helped me get him jealous and now you think he's a pig?"

"I'm drunk?" Remus tried helplessly.

"You think I went after him because he's popular and hot?!"

"Well, he is popular and hot—"

"I haven't even gone on one date with him yet and you guys are already talking shit about me!?"

"It was just Remus!" Sirius said defensively. Remus shot him a sharp glare.

"I cannot fucking believe you guys!"

You stormed off before Lupin could open his mouth again.

"For what it's worth," Marlene said earnestly. "I do think he's a pig. He's been dating that Slytherin girl on the down low. Real casual, everyone says."

Remus sat up straight. "What about Y/N then?"

"Well, my sources say he already tried asking her out on a date. And she said no."

"What, why?"

"Girls tell girls and they tell more girls. My guess is she found out about the Slytherin girl and didn't want to get involved in their mess."

"Then why on earth would she bring him to this party?" Remus asked in exasperation. "Why does she have to be so confusing!?"

Marlene shrugged.

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

Once you get mad at someone, you shut them out completely. Being your close friend, Remus knew this already, but he never expected to be on the receiving end. Over the next few days, you mysteriously disappeared whenever he saw you and never sat next to him in classes. While eating, you always came in late and sat two rows of people down, and while he tried to come up and talk to you, you'd disappear yet again.

If he didn't know better, he would have thought you mastered how to disapparate within the Hogwarts wall itself.

After Potions class one day, Remus was more determined than usual. He stayed behind when he spotted you clearing a doubt with Professor Slughorn. He'd just have to ambush you when that was done.

"You're wasting your time," Lily came by his side. "Slughorn talks her ears out for hours. And if she sees you, she'll just run to the loo, which happens to be just down the hallway."

"We're not in first year! She wouldn't be that childish."

"Oh, don't let her hear you that."

Remus sighed. "Alright, fuck it."

"Wha—?"

Before Lily could finish that question, Remus barged over to the front desk, where you were talking animatedly to Slughorn. Your eyes widened when you saw him, but before you could react, he bent down and scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulders. His werewolf strength had never been more helpful.

You yelped in surprise, but he walked off before Slughorn could react.

"Let me down!" you yelled, but he remained as quiet as ever. The last thing you saw before you talked out of that room was Lily trying to hold back a laugh.

------

Remus put you down when he reached an empty classroom, and he closed the door behind him before you could pull another disappearing act.

"You have got to stop acting like a kid!" he started, completely ignoring what Lily had said.

"Excuse me?" you scoffed, though you felt a little embarrassed yourself. "You're the one who basically called me dumb for liking a freaking guy!"

"He is a dumb guy. I didn't call you dumb. I just called the act of liking him dumb."

"How is that any different, Lupin?"

"Wow!" Remus laughed, though he looked anything but friendly. "One fight and I'm on last name basis? Over your fucking boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Then why the hell did you bring him to the party?!"

"I didn't! He came with Alice, you utter buffoon!"

That shut him up. But you weren't finished.

"You're always quick to judge and I never thought you'd include me in that list and—"

"Y/N—"

"—no, you listen to me. If I did go on a date with someone, it's none of your business since you said you'd never like me. So stop pretending like my fucking boyfriend because we stopped that act weeks ago! He and I are no more than friends than you and I are!"

Whatever he was about to say choked and died away in his throat. You felt guilty, though you didn't know why.

"No more than you and me." Remus gritted his teeth. "Makes sense."

You watched him walk away in all kinds of feelings. But before you could call out, before you could react in any way, he stopped and turned.

"Ah, fuck it," he said for the second time that day and walked straight back to you.

You felt his hold on your face and then his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened before closing altogether. You grabbed him by his collar and kissed him back, as hurried and passionate as him.

"Still friends?" he asked in between the kisses, picking you up again to put you on top of the benches.

"Not by a long shot," you smiled against his lips, pulling him closer.

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

Lily's face was red when she reached the common room.

"What happened?" James asked, sitting up straight.

"Next time we have a meeting with Dumbledore, we should ask him to soundproof the dungeons." She said, shuddering.

[kaivenom]

Hi! Can i ask a one piece headcanons with the dilfs where the reader is extremely clumsy with k*nifes or Weapons in general and almost get stabbed everytime? I dreamt of this and it was so funny

The One Piece Dilfs with a reader who is clumsy with weapons HCS

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: OMG this week people are going crazy with requests for these amazing men. I hope you like it

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

When he discovered, he started to put his sword on his cover everytime he is at home or nearby.

Pretty much thinks is a divine sign to start to get careful with his sword, he is the best swordsman but the universe wants to remind him that he is also human and needs to be careful with his loved ones.

His knife/weapon room is closed with key, since the day he found you admiring his knifes and dropping all the shelves and cutted yourself.

He thought you were going to die, luckily no knife got actually stabed on your guts.

He is always watching you when you go outside, to the point when he is about to fight someone he just takes a moment to stop everything and ask you to step out.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He loves it and makes a good experiment from it.

Since you are his partner he wont let you get stabbed but he likes to test from afar, how bad its your clumsyness.

One time he put knifes all over the bedroom floor, and you cutted your feet a little.

That prank experiment was a little to much that even his team told him to not repeated again.

When you are siting on his lap, he tents to play with knifes, sometimes asking you if you want to try.

He obliges you to use plastic kitchen knifes, its a little humiliating but thats the proof that he cares about you.

Sr. Crocodile

He is obliged to out a rubber top on his hook or leave the hook on the clóset everytime he gets home.

Once you tripped and almost got impaled on his hook.

He is a calm men but that time, he thought he was having a heart attack, everytime he remembers it he starts to get cold sweats.

He likes to carry you, so when he needs to move you safely he just throws you over his back.

You always have a guard or a Minion to watch you with especific orders or not letting you alone with nithing Sharp.

Smoker

Suposing you are both marines he panics always and a lot when he sees you on the base or around the ship.

He tried to convince you to leave the field work and take an office job, if you said yes, problem solved.

If not, expect him to not ket you touch anything Sharp. Example: you are taking a sword for a raid and he goes from behind and straight gets the things out of your hands without discussion.

Sometimes people laugh about how he looks like a cat owner that is yelling at his for breaking something.

You sometimes think he is being to rough or strict but the rest of the crew knows that when you leave him alone he just breaks like a custard.

Akagami Shanks

Doesn't let you go on raids or battle or even the armory.

He would laugh about It because "you are eating such a powerful men and being such a mess" but the moment something shiny gets near you, he panics.

Everyone has know a cover for the sword or weapon, you even felt bad about obliging them to have this measure that you bought ones yourself.

They didn't like It to much but Shanks warned them about not making you more sad.

He follows you around like a puppy or makes someone follow you, but without you knowing. He knows you try to be independent and he is proud of you, but he also know that you are a mess.

[lavenders388]

hiii!! i was thinking of a scenario of where gi-hun comforts the the reader after they have a panic attack/ptsd/nightmare? something sweet and romantic <3

~morning sun~

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ seong gi hun x reader

requested 💌

a/n gi hun is so underrated in his OWN SHOW! theres like 5 fics of him for season 2 I'm glad i can add one more!! keep requesting him plsplspls!!! our little sad mullet man -matcha

tw: ptsd/panic attacks, mentions and descriptions of death/blood (typical squid game tw fr), allusion to vomiting but no description

scenario!!!: after getting out of the games with gi hun, you both face lingering struggles from what you experienced as you fight to stop the games for good.

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as you stood with the 16 remaining players on the lifted platform in what appeared to be a circus tent -or a skyscraper it felt like- you trembled as the sickeningly sweet recorded voice announced what this game would entail. you were relieved to be second to last as the pink-suited guard confirmed that the number on your chest determined the order in which you would cross the glass panels. you were even more relieved when you remembered that your husband was behind you; and would be going last. the thought of crossing the glass tiles in front of him scared you, and you knew it scared him more.

you crossed the tiles slowly, trying to avoid looking down. down to what could easily be your death, your husband's, the deaths of the people in front of you, the people who died so you could then move on and see the remaining tile that would keep you from meeting the fate of them. "16 people." you thought. the fear of all the events of the past few days reverberating in your brain making it unable to focus on just one thing. you and your husband found yourselves in a group of 456 during the first game; now, even after starting this game as a group of 16, there were 4.

"at least we are all going to make it." you thought solemnly; wanting to say it to the group, or even just your husband. you watched as sangwoo crossed; jumping on the last tile with no issue and leaping onto the finishing platform. then say byeok; also getting to safety without issue. and finally it was your turn to jump onto the last tile like they did. cementing your survival and your husband following suit.

you tried to hide your shaking as you situated yourself to make the jump. you looked at your husband behind you and gave him a soft smile, knowing that your impending safety is a large relief to him. you turn, and jump. as you land on the last tile, you stabilize yourself. but something doesn't feel right. this doesn't feel like the last step to safety. you feel the tile buckle below you.

you start to turn to your husband, not having enough time to meet his gaze as the tile completely shatters below you; glass shards cutting into your bare feet as you plummet to meet the same fate as everyone on the ground.

when you jump forward with a gasp he's already awake next to you. in your horror you don't realize at first that you're safe and in your bed; the feeling of falling to your death lingering in a way that makes your stomach burn. you stumble as you throw the covers off and try to get to your shared bathroom as fast as possible; nothing around you seeming real yet. you fling open the door and fall onto the cold tiles; the feeling of the cold hard ground below you all too similar to what just happened in your dream. the feeling makes you grip the sides of the toilet, not just because you're about to throw up; but because you still feel like your falling to your demise in a dark, fake circus tent as the masked men who bet on your lives watched. like you're there again.

as you tried to catch your breath and wipe your mouth, you feel a soft touch on your back. still not being fully there, you jump; gasping in horror. "y/n! y/n! its me!" your husband yells as he goes to touch you again, trying to comfort you without startling you anymore than he already has. "sweetheart its okay, everything is okay." he says softer. "its me, its gi hun." in a different situation you'd laugh at him reminding you, his wife, of his name. this morning though, you just fall into his arms as you cry.

you don't have any explaining needed on why you woke up in such a panic. he does the same thing every now and then; its been happening more frequently to the both of you as you've been enwrapped with desperate attempts at finding the recruiter before the games were set to begin again. he just holds you as you cry, just as you do to him when he wakes up from a nightmare. you dont hear what hes saying as you continue catching your breath. you know its sweet comforting words being spoken softly into your hair as he supports the back of your head as you breathe into his chest; his other arm caressing your back. he cringes as he feels your chest lurch with every breath.

"just breathe, its going to be okay. you're okay, i'm here and we're home and safe. were at home." you hear him say to you as you breathing quiets a bit. "i'm so sorry." you cry into his chest. you don't what all you're apologizing for. a mix of being sorry for waking him up in such an abnormal and stressful way, being sorry for all you've both been through, as well as even being sorry for him having to watch you die in your dream; knowing he didn't actually.

mornings like these have continued to replace the slow mornings waking up in bed with your husband. before the games, the two of you would wake up in each others arms, feeling the warmth of the morning sunlight coming through the curtains and resting on your exposed skin. you would stay in bed as long as possible, waking up slowly as you held each other. eventually you'd start to get up, kissing each other as one of you would try to keep the other in bed. you'd slowly make your way to the kitchen and you'd drink tea and make each other breakfast.

now, mornings looked different. a lot of times it would be gi hun waking up startled; sometimes it would be you. you could tell it bothered him so much more when you'd wake up that way. he never says it, but you know he feels responsible for you joining the game in the first place; you doing so to help him pay off his debts and for his mothers hospital stay. you try to remind him as much as possible that yes, that's true, but he's also the only reason you made it back from the game. you still stayed in bed together for a little bit; the time becoming shorter and shorter as the time crunch for finding the recruiter narrowed. and in the hotel setting you found yourselves living in you didn't exactly have a kitchen to cook breakfast.

the love you felt during you and your husband's morning ritual, raw and unconditional, has remained unchanged.

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[nineteenninety-six]

Since you opened it, well could you write Langdon and teenage daughter discovering he’s using, like maybe she’s just visiting him bringing lunch, angsty since you love that

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ You Know Me

Pairing: Frank Langdon x Daughter!Reader

AN: I'm not completely sure if this is what you wanted but I hope you enjoy either way! :)

TW: drug mentions. mentions of drug usage/abuse/addictions etc.

You hummed as you walked through the bustling waiting room of the emergency department, your fathers lunch held tightly in your hand. The receptionist buzzed you through without a problem, easily recognising you.

You waved at Perlah as you passed by the nurses charge station as you walked to the lockers. Your visit was only supposed to be brief, dropping off the lunch your father had left behind that morning before you left him to his very important work.

You spotted your father with Robby by his locker and you were just about to call out when you realised that they were having an intense conversation. It didn't look like the usual dispute they have regarding a parent, it was way more personal. You couldn't see your father's face but Robby looked almost betrayed as he spoke to him.

You quietly step closer and listen to their conversation. Your father was facing away from you and Robby was facing you but he was so engrossed in his conversation with your father, he hadn't noticed you. 

"Frank, have you been helping yourself to benzos from the ER?" Robby asked.

You blinked in shock at the accusation Robby was throwing your fathers way.

"Yeah, I've been stealing blood too." Your dad replies sarcastically at Robby's bizarre question.

"I asked you a question." Robbie was dead serious.

"Wait, are you serious? What are you doing?" Your dad ranted as Robby faintly nodded along, "Really? Santos? Whatever the hell she told you is bullshit."

Robby sighs, "I didn't mention Santos."

"You didn't have to. I told you, she is trouble."

You watched as your father became frustrated as the situation escalated, the two of them going back and forth.

"Have you ever taken a patient's medication?"

"This is insane. This is completely fսcking insane."

"I need you to open your locker."

"Yeah, right."

"Open your locker." 

"You're gonna regret…"

"Open your fսcking locker, or I will have security smash it open."

You flinch when Robby slams his fist against the locker, stifling the gasp that wanted to escape. You had never seen the doctor act like that before and you watch with wide eyes as your father reluctantly keys open his locker and Robby throws its  contents to the floor as he searches for the pills before stepping back successfully. 

Robby sighed as he turned around to face your dad with the bag of pills in his hand, "Is the imprint code on these pills gonna match Louie's Librium?"

At your fathers answering silence, Robby shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes watering with tears. 

"What the hell?" You slowly step towards them, still in shock at what you witnessed.

Your father and Robby turn to face you, caught off guard by your appearance. Your father looked at you with wide eyes, fear in them as he wondered how much you had overheard, while Robby looked incredibly sad as he realised what you had just witnessed.

"...Take your daughter and go home Frank" Robby suggested quietly.

"No, no, it's not like you think." Your dad began to desperately explain himself, turning towards you, "You remember, whenever I helped grandpa and grandma move, I was too cheap to pay for movers. I hurt my back."

You nod, remembering him having to spend a few days off work stuck at home on the couch with a bad back.

Your dad turned back to Robby, "I told you that. You teased me about it, remember? Well, our own Dr. Hagan prescribed me some pain meds and muscle relaxants. I was just weaning myself off. It was just for maintenance. I'm done. Robby, come on. You know me, Robby. You know me, man. I'm sorry. I fսckеd up. I just... I... I was trying to…"

Robby was once again close to tears, hands rubbing over his face in frustration. Frank stealing drugs from patients wouldn't just leave them down a doctor but it would warrant an investigation into a department, every single personnel would be investigated, people would be let go and Gloria will take the opportunity to finally sell off the department. This wasn't just about Frank.

"Trying to what? Steal pills without getting caught?"

"No, it's not like... you don't under-…"

"I don't fսcking understand?"

"It's not like you think! I'm not high. I'm not high. You've seen what I do, Robby. Could a drսg addict do what I do?"

You're rendered speechless, you desperately wanted to speak up and defend your father but Robby was so angry. As you watched the two of them you realised that Robby's anger is silent, it showed itself in the shakiness of his hand and the tears in his eyes but just like everyone, he had a limit and he was rapidly approaching it.

"Apparently." Robby picked up the discarded items he threw to the floor earlier and chucked them into Frank's arms, "And I just fսcking let him! You're done. Leave now, or I will have Ahmad escort you out."

"Robby, please." Your dad was begging for his mentor's understanding. 

"You are done." Robby scoffed, "Go Frank."

You see your dad open his mouth to speak up to fight for Robby's understanding but you knew that would end in another blow out argument so you inched closer and spoke up.

"Dad…le-let's go"

Your dad's head snapped over to you as if he had forgotten that you were there. Robby nodded along, he didn't want this to get any worse.

You make your way over to your dad, taking some of the items from his hands and into yours. Your grip was gentle as you grab your dad's arm and turn him around, guiding him towards the exit and just before you exit through the doors, you turn your head to look over at Robby who looks at you with a face full of guilt, sadness and disappointment.   

You don't say anything as you leave the hospital with your father, silently crossing the street to the park opposite the hospital. Even as you settle onto a bench, neither of you utter a word and as you breathe in the fresh air you realise how rapidly your heart was racing during the confrontation and was only just beginning to even out.

You didn't even know what to say, because what could you say about your current situation? Your dad not only had a drug problem but he was stealing from patients which would get him fired and probably get his medical license revoked which will create so many problems for their family that you currently did not want to think of.

You hear your dad take a deep breath as if he was preparing to speak but his breath was stuttered on the way out and the stuttering descended into weeping. You didn't look at him as he cried, your hands still clenched around the bag of your fathers lunch and his casual clothes. You didn't know what to say, what could you say to your father whose life is falling apart around him at this very moment but you couldn't just remain sitting there doing nothing.

You cleared your throat as you shifted in your seat and you passed him the brown paper bag of his lunch, highly doubting that he had anything more than a protein bar during his shift. After what had just gone down, a little food would probably make him feel a little better.

"You should eat."

Your dad takes the bag without question and inhales the sandwich in a few bites, following it quickly with the protein bar. You sort out the clothes as he eats, folding them away into his backpack along with his trainers.

"I'm sorry" Your father's words are quiet, ashamed not only at his actions but the fact you had witnessed go down.

"Does your back still hurt?" Despite everything, the thing you are most concerned about is his health.

"I don't know…I've taken so much that it numbs everything." Your dad admits, "B-but I'm not a drug addict y'know. I'm not an addict, I don't need them to survive, I'm not high, I'm fine!"

"Grandma and grandpa moved like nine months ago and there were lots of pills in the baggy" You remind him, "I don't hate you. I love you so much but you need help."

"I was scared, I am scared. As more time passed and I couldn't wean myself off, I got scared about looking for help. I dug myself deeper and deeper into a hole."

"Maybe Robby can help?" You suggest.

Your father scoffs, "Robby hates me, I betrayed him."

"I don't think he hates you," You counter, "He's upset, angry and yeah, betrayed but he doesn't hate you. You've worked together for years, he knows you and he knows you're a good man and a great doctor and that's why he's upset. He's upset because you didn't come to him for help."

"Shit," Your dad presses his hands to his face, "Look at me, I've fucked up so badly my daughter is giving me life advice."

"Is this you telling me not to pursue psychology?" You joke.

"Nah, you'd be good. You'll be a good doctor too, as long as you don't follow your dad's footsteps."

"We'll you're the best doctor I know. That plaster job you did on my knee when I was six? Ten out of ten, best treatment I've ever had." You joke again, wanting to distract your father for a moment.

"Yeah well you and your brother may be the only patients I'll ever treat again after today."

"Let's just go home." You say as you stand from the bench, "Give it a few days and once everything has calmed down you can message Robby, he'll no doubt give you much better advice than I have."

Your dad stands and pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he murmurs into your ear, "Thank you sweetie."

"Let's go home," He pulls away and takes his backpack away from you, swinging it onto his shoulder when his phone goes off. He pauses as he pulls his phone out of pocket, reading the alert when he freezes, his eyes going wide in shock.

"What's wrong, did Robby tell Gloria already?" You ask.

Your dad slowly shakes his head, "There was a shooting at Pittfest."

"And most people will come here" You say, remembering that the hospital was a MTC.

"I've got to go back to work."

You didn't know if that was the best idea considering how angry Robby was but on the other hand, Robby would never turn away good experienced hands like your fathers during a major incident. 

"You go straight home, okay? Text me once you get there, even if I won't see it straight away, I need to know okay?" Your father pulls you into another hug waiting until you nodded in response before he hurried off back to the hospital, jogging through the park.

"I love you!" You call out.

"Love you too kid!" Your dad replies before he disappears out of your view. 

[pome-seed]

The Soldier's Keeper ★ 11

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Defeated and knowing the end is near, you do what you can to say goodbye to the Soldier. Regretfully, you soon find out that death isn't so soon to come.

Warnings: Captivity, Canon-typical violence. Heavy violence. Torture. Electroshock. Blood. Mention of starvation. Guns, weapons, fighting. Intimate sadness between reader and Bucky. Please skip the middle of this chapter if its too much.

Authors Note: Hi guys! This chapter is quick, but very dark. Please be warned. The middle of the chapter is descriptions of violence. ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Song Rec: Desperate Decision by Aleksey Chistilin

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

You knew your time was up.

You did what you could; you gave him his last injections, then took a wrench to the giant machine the Soldier never left. He was shocked when you first started tossing shit around, maybe even enjoyed it. 

“They're using trigger words,” you told him, smashing the wrench into a big box on the side of the seat. “And using electro pulses in the brain.” You grunted, yanking at all the wires you could.

“Plug your ears, do what you can to not hear those words, okay?” You panted, throwing metal scraps aside. “The control panel- and I think probably a device your handler keeps on him- they control the pulses in your brain.”

You stumbled over a stray cord and caught yourself on the bench where his metal arm was trapped. You rested your hand on the cold steel. “Break what you can, okay? Just- remember this. Remember that it’s all a lie.” You panted, your stomach twitching and twisting. You brushed your cheek against your shoulder, wincing as the bruised tissue in your face met your shirt. 

“Remember that they are all lying to you- You're not safe, and you need to get out. You're a person, okay? You were something before this.” You whispered. "Remember that."

He watched you, his brows tilted up, a crease knitted between them. You reached out and brushed your thumb between them, smoothing the wrinkle. “They’re going to make you kill more innocent people. Please, please fight.”

 You tucked a few stray locks of dark hair behind his ears. “I should have cut your hair again.” You said, the lingering thought spilling out. There’s so many things you wanted to do. So much left undone. “But it's okay, long hair suits you.” You smiled bitterly. 

“Why are you-” He paused, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “Why are you accepting this so easily?” He stared at you in bewilderment, the terrified rabbit of a person, who was accepting their own looming death with a smile.

He watched you with this tragic look, all too real and too tender. But he was helpless. He couldn't save you. Not like this. Not yet.

“Because there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.” You traced your fingers over his hairline. “I can bite and kick and scream, but they have guns. They have torture.” You swallowed heavily. “They have you.” You pressed your lips together, bittersweet as you met his gaze. “I don’t have any other option but to accept it.”

He shook his head, your fingers brushing his temple. You didn’t know when you had gotten so comfortable with touching him.

Maybe it was because you were scared, and you were dying, and that he was the only constant thing in your life. Maybe it was because he was the only thing around you that you weren't scared of, and you missed the softness of affection. Maybe it was because you were terrified to die, and all you wanted was to hug your family. 

His lips parted, words on the tip of his tongue.

The door behind you slammed open. 

“Oh god-” you tried to hide the tremble of your hands as you dropped them from his face. 

Footsteps stomped behind you.

You grabbed the wrench and slammed it harder into the metal power box on the side of the chair, again and again, fragments and sparks flying, until pairs of hands yanked you away. You yelped, the wrench falling from your hands. Your feet kicked out, but hands wrapped around your ankles.

 “Fuck you!” you shouted, tears burning behind your eyes. “Fuck all of you!”

You cried out as someone kneed you in the side. Your body hit the ground, the hands around your arms dragging you back towards the door. “Remember what I said-” you shouted, your blurry gaze set on the furious form in the chair. “Remember what I said-” you begged.

Just before the doors slammed shut, you caught a glimpse of those sad blue eyes. 

“You want to know how we did it? You’ll get what you want. We’ll show you.”

The terror you felt prior was nothing compared to the weight those words hit you with.

Weeks passed. Weeks.

In darkness. 

When younger, you always thought you would die of old age, or from a sickness passed down in your family. Then, when you were taken, you assumed it would be one swift bullet to the brain. You weren't useful enough for any extra trouble. That’s what you thought.

Turns out, you were wrong.

And they took their time with you.

They started with sensory deprivation. You spent days in solitude. Absolute silence, darkness swallowing up your every sense. You were strapped down, immobile. You were gagged and bound, attached to wires and starved. 

For the first few days you were fully aware of yourself. You spent your time shaking and terrified, counting the seconds like you’d grown so used to. But as the days passed, you started to lose yourself. You stopped being able to tell the waking world from the one inside your head. You barely ever realized when your eyes were open or closed.

Then things changed. 

Then came the pain. It started with holding your head underwater until you slipped under the veil of unconsciousness, then yanking you out and shocking you to life. 

You were stripped of your clothes- stripped of your dignity. You were freezing, the ice cold water sticking to your bare skin. You felt humiliated, you felt like a thing rather than a person. 

That was the whole intention, you imagined. 

They wanted to break you.

And they did.

As the weeks passed, you lost yourself in the long bouts of strenuous torture. 

They repositioned you days ago, switching your chair for a pair of cuffs and some chains. 

Chains rattled above your head. Cold air bit at your naked skin. Blisters dripped blood down your forearms from where the cuffs rubbed your wrists raw. 

Shivers wracked your body, making it hard to keep still. You tried and failed to balance on the tips of your toes as they scraped the ground. You slipped on the curdled blood that stained the cold floor.

You blinked slowly, your body sagging. You battled between keeping your eyes open, staying on guard, and succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

Voices floated around you, lights blinking on and off. Your head hung low, chin tucked to your chest. You couldn’t move, your muscles feeling shriveled and weak. You heard a man counting. Your heart picked up in your chest. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth around the rubber mouthpiece shoved between your teeth. Trembles wracked your body, fear surging through your veins. 

Click.

Click.

Switch.

Electricity surged through your body, your nerves feeling sliced open and frayed. A shrill, animalistic scream ripped from your throat, echoing in the large lab. Your whole body locked up, the tissues of your muscles rippling in agony.

Your eyes rolled back in your head. You couldn’t hear anything except the buzzing in your ears and the hum of electricity. You wanted to cry and beg for relief. You wanted to admit defeat. 

You wanted nothing more than to go home. 

In an instant the flow of electricity flipped off. Your body went lax, trembling and twitching. You huffed like a sick dog, sucking air in through your locked jaw. 

They gave you sixty seconds to breathe, as they always did.

Click.

Click.

Switch.

Agonized wails tore from your throat.

And it repeated like that.

Again.

And again.

You didn’t hear it. 

The first sounds of death. You weren't aware of anything but the rippling pain in your body. But the men around you noticed. They were scrambling, frantic as they shut down their computers and ran for nearby weapons.

Gunshots sounded outside the lab. 

Grown men cried out, shouting and screaming.

The doors to the lab blew open. Metal grinded against metal. A small metal ball rolled into the room, knocked against a control panel, then rolled to the side.

Then, boom.

Gas erupted from the small ball as shrapnel rained down around it. Gunfire showered the room as a large body emerged from the broken doorway. He moved like a shadow through the fog, sparks of light following gunfire. Bodies dropped, one after another, their screams of terror cut short. 

You could barely keep your eyes open, your own body still bearing the weight of your last round of electrocution. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. You couldn’t even feel the necessary fear as you heard heavy bootsteps draw closer. 

The gunfire had ceased. 

Everyone was dead.

You saw the tips of black boots.

A single gunshot went off, your chains fracturing.

Your body went crashing down, limp. A cold metal weight wrapped around your waist and hiked you up. You blinked, your gaze cloudy and confused. Warm fingers gently gripped your jaw, massaging the hinge for a moment. Your jaw loosened slightly, the shock of the electricity wearing. He pinched your chin and slowly worked the rubber mouthpiece from between your teeth. A string of saliva connected from your lips to his fingers. He wiped his thumb over the corner of your mouth, then tossed the rubber to the side. 

You were weightless in his arms, tossed over his shoulder. Your bound hands hung low, swaying with every step the man took. 

A heavy metal hand held firm against your backside, keeping your steady. Your face pressed against his lower back, cold leather meeting your cold skin. You knew you should fight. You knew you should struggle and cry and kick, but you just couldn’t. All of the fight you had left was beaten out of you a long time ago.

It took all you had not to black out then and there. And with just that, you failed. 

You thought you were blinking, because that's all it felt like. But every time you opened your eyes, things were very different.

At first it was quiet, just boots on concrete, walking through dark halls. Then there were sparks raining down on you, lights shot out from soldiers charging down the hall. Then you were being set down, body slumped against the floor. Blood spattered on the walls, knives pierced flesh. 

Then you were being scooped back up, tossed over a broad, thick shoulder. 

Then, you felt the kiss of sunlight against your skin for the first time in months. 

It was so warm, and so bright, you thought you were dying. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your face into the man's lower back.

 You thought you would revel in it, turn your face up and gasp the fresh air greedily. But in all reality, it was just too intense. 

It was so bright it made your eyes throb in your skull. The fresh air on your naked skin made goosebumps travel down your back. 

You took two deep breaths before everything went black again. 

A/N: Forgive me :D I'm very sorry for the angst. But hey, the next chapter will be something very different! Please enjoy, comment, and be kind!

@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow

[hobivore]

Don't wanna know about fallin' down | HHJ

— Hwang Hyunjin x reader (f)

“You know, for what it’s worth,” he finally speaks up, turning around, taking a deep breath. “It really was an accident—” “Shut up!” you hiss, a pointed finger stabbing at the air between you. There’s a beat of silence where he seems to mull something over as he looks at your hand, an inexplicable expression on his face. Then his gaze returns to yours. “Why don’t you come over here and make me?” 

AU/Trope: enemies to lovers, smut (minors DNI)

Warnings: marking (hickeys), basically they bicker & bang

WC: 1.4k

A/N: Based on the prompt"Shut up!" "Why don't you come over here and make me?" This piece was originally uploaded to my old sideblog linoguistics, so you might've seen this on tumblr before.

© hobivore Reposts, translations and modifications are not allowed. All events and characters are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

— SKZ masterlist | Ask box

“Why I invited him? It’s my birthday! He’s my friend!”

Felix pushes the shopping cart down the narrow aisle, its wobbly wheels rattling loudly. “I know you don’t get along, but you’re my friend too. Please.” He looks at you with that sad puppy look in his eyes, the one you’re unable to say no to. “The brownie mix. Two boxes.”

You grab the boxes from the shelf and throw them into the cart with a little more force than necessary, sighing deeply. “Fine. I’ll come. But I’ll need booze. And some of your special brownies.” 

Felix beams at you. “That can be arranged!” He adds another package to the cart, turning back to you with a frown. “I still don’t understand why you hate him that much. You should give him another chance, he’s actually very swee—”

“He’s an asshole,” you bite back, irritated. You don’t want to have this conversation but you know Felix means well, so you soften your demeanour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

He squeezes your arm. “I know. The two of you are more alike than you think—” he busies himself with finding his wallet when he sees the murderous glint in your eyes, “—okay, nevermind! I don’t know, just pretend he isn’t there.” He smiles at you, eyes crinkling. “Stick to Chan’s side and you’ll be fine.”

You are, in fact, not fine. 

Sticking to Chan’s side had lasted exactly 40 minutes before he’d shoved his tongue down some girl’s throat. With a disgusted look you watch how the two of them swap saliva, nearly knocking a bottle of vodka off the kitchen counter in their attempt at full body cell fusion. 

“Ew, that’s gross.” 

You recognise the voice before its owner enters your peripheral. “So are you.” 

“Good evening to you too, sunshine.” 

Hyunjin saunters into the kitchen like he owns it, leaning against the dining table with his hands curled around the edge, the human embodiment of nonchalance. Unfortunately, he does not look gross at all, dressed in jeans and a white tee that sits just below his collarbone. He's cut his hair since you last saw him, black instead of blond now, and you hate to admit he looks good in any length or colour. 

Your gaze drifts down to his right hand, two silver rings adorning his ring and index fingers. When you look up again you catch his amused smile, the subtle lift of his eyebrows indicating he knows exactly what you're thinking. 

The man knows he's hot. It's infuriating. 

When you turn your attention back to the couple, you’re just in time to see the girl drag Chan out of the room, neither of them sparing you and Hyunjin as much as a glance. 

Great, now you’re alone with him. So much for friends. 

There had been a time where you’d considered Hyunjin to be one—before he’d won that painting contest that should’ve been yours. 

You’d met him when he joined your shared workspace. He’d been friendly at first, always attentive, bordering on flirty sometimes—not like you’d minded at all. And much like you, he’d often stayed at the atelier until early morning. You’d enjoyed his presence even if the two of you worked in silence for the most part. He’d liked to paint flowers, ones he brought himself, their scent filling up the small space. It suited him.

You grimace at the memory of him leaving pretty bouquets on your workbench. 

Hyunjin was a talented artist and you wouldn't have minded losing to him if you had been given a fair chance. But one morning you'd come into the studio and found your submission ruined: the paint smudged, fingerprints and remnants of dirty water all over it. 

He had been fidgety, overly apologetic, insisting he had spilled a glass of water over it by accident. But everyone knew it'd be a close call between the two of you. It’d obviously been a quick way to take out the competition, with you nearly finished and only two days left until the submission deadline. You weren't stupid. 

His face, however, is—and it only serves to fuel your annoyance. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He blinks at you. “Celebrating Felix’s birthday, like everyone else in this house.”

“I mean here. In the kitchen.” You wave a hand around the room. 

“I was looking for more wine glasses but found you instead.” He opens a cupboard, sticking his head inside. “Didn’t know this was your personal castle, princess.” 

You glower at him, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck at his use of the pet name. 

A loaded silence fills the kitchen as he rummages through the cabinets. You’re not sure why you stay there instead of joining the others in the living room—perhaps it’s the tension between Hyunjin’s shoulder blades that keeps your eyes glued to him, how he seems to reluctantly gather his thoughts, on the verge of saying something but still holding back. 

“You know, for what it’s worth,” he finally speaks up, turning around, taking a deep breath. “It really was an accident—”

You fold your arms in front of your chest. You haven’t had nearly enough to drink to deal with him. With his lies and his annoying, stupidly attractive self crossing the room towards you—

“Shut up!” you hiss, a pointed finger stabbing at the air between you. There’s a beat of silence where he seems to mull something over as he looks at your hand, an inexplicable expression on his face. Then his gaze returns to yours.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” 

It only takes a second to process his words, but before your brain can catch up, your body’s already moving: two large strides and you’re right in front of him, your hand reaching out to fist his shirt and pull him in, mouth crashing against his.

He freezes, caught off-guard, before he backs you up against the kitchen counter, tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You wrap your arms around his neck and he slots his thigh between yours, hands on your hips, pushing you down against him. 

When you pull back, panting, all you can see are his kiss-bitten lips and flushed cheeks. You have no doubt you’re not much better off. “You’re a terrible kisser,” you lie. 

“Why are you always such a bitch?” He trails his lips down your jaw, along your neck, smiling as he finds the spot that makes you shiver. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” 

His low chuckle resonates in his chest and he stands straight again, sliding one hand up your bare legs, under your skirt, silver rings cold against your skin. His fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties and you whine involuntarily, unable to hold back the sound. You silently curse at yourself when he grins down at you. 

“Sounds like you’re enjoying this too. Do you miss me now that I’ve got a new studio?”

“Fuck off—” you start, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat when he shoves your underwear to the side and taps his fingers to test the waters, pushing two past your entrance with ease upon finding you already dripping for him. You try to ignore the slick noises filling the kitchen, cheeks warming at how wet and dirty it sounds, anger mixing with pleasure. 

“Hyunjin—ah—not here,” you warn, and he laughs.

“Why? Don’t want anyone to walk in and see you soaking my fingers? Fuck, you’re so wet—” His thumb finds your clit, rubbing soft circles around it, teasing, and it’s maddening. But what’s worse is your response: how you arch into him, prior protest replaced by the tense knot forming in your belly. 

“Gonna ruin this sweet cu—ah!” Hyunjin whimpers when you drag your nails down his back, underneath his shirt, and you send him an innocent smile.

"Like you ruined my painting?" you ask sweetly, sucking a large bruise into the hollow of his neck, determined. He won't be leaving this room without your marks littered all over his skin, a sun-kissed canvas stained and on display for everyone to see. 

“You’re insufferable,” he mumbles as your teeth graze his collarbone, “wanna fuck you so bad. Might shut you up for once.” 

You laugh. “What makes you think I’d let you?” 

Hyunjin smiles smugly, his hand between your legs suddenly stilling, ignoring your scowl as he removes it and sucks his glistening fingers into his mouth. He taps them lightly against your cheek before turning on his heels, leaving you panting and dumbfounded against the kitchen counter.

He grabs a couple of wine glasses from a cabinet on his way out, looking back at your seething figure, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Just a hunch.”

Thank you for reading! If you liked this story please reblog, leave a comment, tell a friend, send me a pigeon, launch a mars rover. Your encouragement fuels my inner writer cryptid 👾

[lady-ashfade]

Hi could you please do yandere house of dragon x Helena twin and when Luke takes Aemond eye he also accidentally cut reader neck, and when they everyone’s gathered Alicent going crazy, reader faints making everyone extremely worried. Luke felt terrible ?

More Then A Eye

Yan!Various!HOTD Characters x Fem!Reader

Made this were the reader was the only one injured because that makes it more fun, and also might make a part 2 so that will come into play if I make that. Also feel like if it was just the reader it would be more interesting.

Warnings: Blood, gore, knifes, violence, yandere actions, reader being injured, me going slight into-depth on how the reader gets cut. Pretty much the whole thing.

Reader wants the family to all get along while the chaos is going on. She is sweetheart like her sister, but she doesn’t have the sight as her sister does. So she notices most of what’s happening, the other half of her sister.

Reader stops Aemond from getting picked on when she’s near because she has the power to make the boys calm, and the rest of the family at that. So she can get mad and upset so aemond feels at ease when his sister is around. But all the boys long for her affection and love, so they all cling to her.

The funeral is a very sad time for her since she loved Laena and the thought of her cousins losing their mother. Or her uncle losing his wife.

So to the readers surprise when she see aemond and jace have a small moments it brings a warmth to her chest in this dark time. Hoping that this was the gods way to bring her family together, but her hopes soon vanished when night came.

She had heard the others walk through the hallways as she tried to fall asleep, opening her door and their whispering calls. They got her attention and claimed someone stole vhagar so she went with them.

“I think we need to wake up our parents.” But her words were shoot down as they dragged her through the halls and down through the castle.

As soon as she saw the white hair she knew it was aemond and she wished she stayed in bed. The kids started to shout, while aemond replied in a time she never heard before, not shy. But proud and filled with venom.

When the fight broke out and all the reader could do was scream and cry for them to stop, but her body froze up. As soon as aemond grabbed ahold of Luke she ran towards him and grabbed ahold of his arm.

“Please, do not hurt them anymore. We- We can all stop this madness,” she looked around at all of them with tears. “Let us all be family.” Aemond was so caught up in his own wrath he pushed the reader back so she wouldn’t get in his way.

He threw Luke to the ground after calling jace and Luke “Strongs.” Then throwing the younger boy to the ground. Jace pulled out a small knife and the reader gasp as they fought again, but the knife was thrown elsewhere.

She watched as Luke crawled to the knife with a interesting to hurt aemond so her body moved on its own. “Aemond!” Just as she shouted she was cut off with the sound of flesh being cut with his blade and gushing sounds. They watch the horror in front of their eyes go down. Blood rolling down her throat and gasped of failed attempts of air when she fell to the ground with her hands clawing at her own throat.

Luke dropped the knife and steps back in disbelief of what was happening. Aemond caught his sister and laid her down in his arms trying to stop the bleeding. “How could you! I’ll kill you! I’ll feed you to my dragon.” He started to cry as did the others.

“What’s going on here?” The guards shouted as the walked up on the children and soon realized the princess. They took her in their arms and sent for the maester and the king at once. Everyone soon garnered in the hall for what had happened.

Alicent screamed when she first saw her daughter and it was loud that everyone in the castle heard. Running to her daughter with tears in her eyes she started to move her hair out of the way as the maester worker. Viserys screamed at the guards to answer who had done it but he wasn’t expecting his own grandsons. Aemond sat at his mothers side while handing the readers hand. Healana looked at the ground with a sob. She had saw it in a nightmare once’s that felt so real, this exact moment.

The boys stayed back and far away. Luke not even daring to look at the reader knowing he caused her harm and pain. All of them wondering if she would be dead soon. Alicent was so focused she didn’t even pay attention to anything but the reader being life and to keep her that way.

When rhaenrya entered it was hell to pay. Reader had just got done with her stitches while still knocked out cold as her body tried to heal itself. “You,” Alicent screamed and pointed at the princess. “You’re filthy sons did this.” Rhaenrya had not see the reader yet as she looked at her sons. When her eyes looked onto the readers body her eyes went wide and looked back at her sons not believing a word.

“They did this?” She asked around the room as the boys tensioned up. “It’s true, jace brought the knife to the fight and his brother, Luke, did the deed.” Cole spiked with a snare. Luke tugged at his mother’s sleeves, “But I did not mean too. Aemond was going to kill jace! The reader got in the way.” All the children started to scream their own defense as everyone watched.

The king was mad but not at the children but at the guards for not doing their jobs. Saying this would have been avoided if they were watched closely. “She would not want us to fight and surely you all know it.” He turned to look at young Luke in the eyes. “I know you did not mean it boy, things can be forgiven.” Alicent looked at rhaenrya as she smiled softly and pull her sons behind herself and listened to Viserys plead of forgiveness and family.

“He deserves no forgiveness,” Alicent stood up and let go of your hand. “The knife was brought to the fight and one of our children could have been killed- Y/n almost died, or might not make it.” She inched closer with a glare and her hands made up into a fist. “Our little girls life being stolen can be..Forgiven?”

“It is what’s right! I love her with my heart but it has been decided, no more blood needs to be shed. Do not let your hatred blind you Alicent.” She stared at him as he spoke so calmly and started to walk away. Her eyes went to the dagger on his hip and her mind filled with red to see her daughter avenged. Moving quickly she took the blade from his side and held it up going for Luke.

“If you will not see to justice then I shall.” Rhaenrya pushes her sons back and caught Alicent before she got closer. They held each other, pushing and pulling to get what they wanted. “Another insult to my family and you get away with it? Just under falling under that pretty foot. It is not far, where is duty? Where is sacrifice?” Rhaenrya looked at the blade as it reflected off the fire light.

She was about to say something but a loud metal sound caught them off guard. They both looked back as the reader laid on the floor with her eyes open and reached out for them. Her head shaking as she tried to speak out but nothing was coming out. Aemond coming to her aid and helping her up but she had used her the rest of her strength to get out of the chair. Reader looked at her brother for help to help and speak her mind, pleading to do the right thing.

“No more blood shed mother.” His spoke but his eyes do not match his words. “She does not wish it.” Helaena came rushing down to her twins side and held her hand. Alicent looked back at rhaenrya one last time before pulling away and dropping the knife. Slowly inching back she looked around at her husband, only with anger and devastation.

Everyone was quiet as she ordered someone to carry her daughter out of the room with the maester. The kids walked with her and held onto their sisters hand as she fell back into a deep sleep. No one could speak a word as they all stood stocked.

For years that was the last time rhaenrya and her kids saw their aunt, along with Daemon. But letters where sent in private from the reader to all of them with updates and her forgiveness. But luke refuses to open and read them as his guilt rotted away at his soul. But each week for years new letters still came from her. The next time they all saw eachother, they all grown so much. But they all remembered the first acted of war.

One side trying to make amends and the other full of revenge.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[cutiecusp]

Memories, part three.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader.

TW, Memory loss, mentions of PTSD, light fluff.

You watch him as you both enter your shared home together, the tightness in his chest obvious as he scans the room, his dark eyes flitting over all the things that made your home unique to you both before settling on a photograph.

"You look beautiful, cant believe you got me in a suit." He remarks gruffly, staring at the couple in the photograph.

You take the frame off the table, and hand it to him, your smile genuine.

"What's more unbelievable is Soap ate the cake before we even cut it."

You watch Simon throw Soap an annoyed look, the Scot held his hands up in mock surrender, before joining the others in the kitchen.

Simon heads to the mantlepiece, his fingers tracing over the frames, as if he was trying to bring back every memory by touch.

"There's no doubt we look good together." He smiles, picking up a picture of you both on holiday, the sea in the background, your face beaming as you hold a giant ice cream.

"We had to share that ice cream." You quip, standing next to Simon.

Your cheeks redden as you remember all the sugary kisses afterwards, melting into his arms as he held you close.

Simons gaze flickers over your face, taking in the blush, but not remarking on it further.

"And who's this?" He asks, pointing to a picture of himself, with a dog.

"That's Scout, and in the back is Riley." you point out, your eyes soften.

"My brother owned Scout, and Riley was ours, you brought her home-"

"I brought her home from a mission." He finishes, his gaze steady.

"I remember her."

You smile sadly. He could remember your dog, but not you?

He picks up on the mood change, and offers a hand, and without hesitation, you take it.

"Sorry love. I wish i could remember more."

You shrug it off, as if it wasn't a big deal, and while your heart was breaking, you had to remember he was home. So you put on a watery smile, and change the subject.

"Tea?" You ask.

He nods, and finding his way to the kitchen, it allows you a minute to breathe.

Your eyes take in the first photo he saw, you in a white dress, your smile brightening up the shot, your eyes shining and focused on Simon, who stood tall and broad in a black suit, mask off, his eyes burning back into yours with desire and love.

Tears threatened to fall, and at the sound of laughter from the kitchen, you let them. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cry, your vision blurring out the real world for a minute.

After a few minutes, you feel strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into an embrace. You look up, to see a familiar jaw line, and honeyed eyes.

"He will be okay, petal." Kyle remarks, his voice soft.

You shake your head, how can he be, when he cannot remember the life he's created with you.

Kyle rubs soothing circles on your back. Out of the taskforce, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick felt the most like family, calm, collected, always ready for an adventure, and the one you confided in the most, he was like a brother to you, so it wasn't unusual that he was there to comfort you.

After a few minutes, you caught your breath and took the tissue Kyle offered.

"Thank you, Kyle, i should be grateful he's home, and i am, its just-"

Kyle nodded, his face solemn.

"We are going to give you guys some space, but if you need us, call us, I'm on paperwork duty tonight, so ill be awake."

You sigh, before nodding. You look up to see Price and Soap at the door, sad smiles on their faces. Over the last five years, these men had become your family, and it hit you hard that they must be grieving a friend too. You hug them both, pressing a kiss to each cheek before they head out, a clear understanding that this is the first day of a new life for both you and Simon.

The rest of the evening was consumed by dinner, Simon helping you prepare a basic dish, and asking small questions along the way. The mood felt awkward, hollow, with shallow conversations, Simon caught up with the year without him.

You hide in the bathroom, emotionally strung out. Essentially Simon was a stranger to you now, and while your heart yearned to break down the door and wrap your arms around him, he didn't feel like yours anymore.

You hear him shuffling around in your bedroom, so you go to investigate.

"Jus' looking for some shorts for bed," He calls out, seeing your shape in the doorway.

"I'll take the guest bed tonight, Simon." You say softly, looking everywhere but him.

"You don't have to do that, i will." Came the gruff reply. You look up to find Simon staring at you.

"I know, deep down you are my wife, and you are someone special to me, and i also know that this is a sore situation for you, so I'll take the other room."

You nod, returning to the bathroom, unable to argue with him. All you want is your husband back in your arms.

As you wash your face, and apply your skincare, you notice Simon watching you over your shoulder.

"You still use the vanilla cream?" He asks nonchalantly

You pause. How would he..

"Your dressing gown smells of vanilla in the bedroom. Made me think of cake. I thought the smell could trigger something" He admits sheepishly.

You nod, it had been a favourite of yours, and he routinely brought you more, even on deployment.

"Thank you." Simon says quietly.

You turn around, a questioning look on your face.

"For not giving up on me. For always believing I'd come home."

Your eyes soften, and you nod, unable to speak.

He throws you a smile and heads into the guest room, leaving you to finish rubbing lotion into your skin.

** A FEW HOURS LATER.**

You wake up with a start, a loud noise coming from the guest bedroom, throwing the covers back, you race into the next room.

Simon is drenched in sweat, his eyes unfocused as he tosses and turns in his sleep.

You know better than to wake him physically, so you call to him from the edge on the bed.

"Simon, its me, love. You are home, in the guest bed. You are home. " You chant your mantra a few times, before he groggily opens his eyes, before they settle on you.

"I'm home?" he asks, his voice deep with sleep and fear.

You nod, slowly approaching him.

"Yes, Simon. You are home, its me, you are safe."

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching Simons chest heave, his foggy gaze drinking you in like a cold glass of water on a hot day.

"Love?" He calls, his voice strained, his arms open.

You settle between his arms, your hand stroking his cheek, soothing him.

"I'm here." You assure him.

His breathing evens out, and you hold him closer, your heartbeat settling him.

"I remember the ice cream." he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow.

"The ice cream?"

"From the photo, i remember it took you forever to eat it, it was when i came home from Paris, and we took a holiday. I remember kissing you after, your laugh as you put some on my nose."

You smile, Your thoughts going back to that day.

"I did, and do you remember the cat we saw, getting all the old ladies to feed it croissants?" You chuckle.

Simon pulls away, his eyes locked on yours, your bodies still close. Your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I remember the dress you wore for me that night, love." He remarks, watching you blush.

"I remember it not lasting long on your body." He continues.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

" I remember a lot, now love. But will you stay until i remember it all, and we can build our lives back together?" He asks, his voice full of vulnerability.

"I promise." You whisper, before his lips press gently against yours.

"I promise you forever."

......................................................................................................................

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @mims900 @skeletonsucker @vmaxis

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Burn

My heart always hurts when I watch the cutscene where Astarion burns under the sun. Dammit Larian Studios

Summary: You chase after Astarion when he runs away from the rising sun and remind him that you chose him.

You watch as blue lines crawl across his skin, steam rising as the sun eats away at him once more, now that he is free of the parasite. You hear the panic and sadness in his voice as reality sets in — he is no longer immune to the sun, condemned forever to live in the shadows. His ruby red eyes lift to meet yours as his skin scorches, an apology falling from his lips and he rushes to find shelter before you can say anything.

“Astarion!” You shout, watching his fading figure. He doesn’t look back, of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t have the time to when all he can think about is how his skin is searing. Your other companions remain rooted but your legs find an extra burst of energy and soon you find yourself hot on your lover’s trail, desperate to find him.

“Astarion!” You call out, panting from the exertion. Running like that just after defeating a Netherbrain was not a good idea, and you can feel your head spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself and lean against the nearby wall, getting as much air into your lungs as possible.

“Astarion,” you gasp, forcing yourself to keep moving, telling yourself that the vampire was suffering more than you were. You stagger onwards, barely remembering where you last saw him and pray that he hasn’t gotten far.

You make your way to a stack of crates hidden behind a docked ship and find a figure huddled in the corner, shaking. You stumble towards the figure, fingers hastily fumbling for the clasp of your cloak which you throw around the figure’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Star,” you breathe, relieved. You feel his arms slide around your waist tentatively, cautiously hugging you back.

“Why are you here?” He whispers. The scent of your lifeblood fills his nose, causing fangs to peek out but he holds himself back, holds the hunger back.

“For you, of course.” You continue to hold onto him tightly. “I’m not leaving you alone, not ever.”

“Why?” He can feel you, feel your warmth, your touch, but a part of him still nags at him, trying to convince him that this is all just a dream, that you want nothing to do with him, not when he is confined to the darkness. He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in the fact that you’re here with him, that you came for him when you could be out in the new dawn with the others.

“Why? Because I love you, I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want a future without you.” Your fingers ghost over the burns, an ache in your heart when you see how badly the sun has burnt him. Even as the sun scorched him, he still took the time to apologise, to look you in the eye, to tell you of how much he enjoyed the journey.

“Even if it means being unable to live in the day? Being unable to feel the sun on your skin?” The words cause a lump to form in his throat. He wants to push you away, tell you to find someone else, someone better. You deserve so much better than whatever he can give you, you deserve to be able to live with the sun warming your skin, you deserve —

“Yes. I know what it means to be in a relationship with you, I know it means never seeing the sun again, never feeling its warmth, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” The fierce fire he fell in love with back then burns in your eyes, daring him to deny you your choice and he feels himself falling for you all over again.

Your devotion to the people you care about, the lengths you would go for each of them, the love you had for those around you. He had once found all these traits foolish, but now they were his saving line, the reason you were currently kneeling by his side, tenderly caressing the rough burnt skin of his cheek as you firmly declared your intent to remain by his side for the rest of your life.

You pull the cloak over his head and shoulders, ensuring they cover as much of his skin as possible.

“I look terrible, don’t I?” He gives a hollow laugh.

“And yet still so beautiful. It’s not fair how you can pull that off.” You chuckle, tilting your head to offer your neck to him.

“Drink up,” you say with a smile so bright it blinds him. “Then we’ll head back to Elfsong Tavern and discuss what to do next.”

He tugs at the cloak around him. It smells of you, the scent deep and warm. He buries himself in it, grateful for the protection it provides and gently rests his lips against your bare neck. His fangs prick your skin, and then dig deeper as blood begins to flow into his mouth. The cracking blue lines on his skin start to fade, his usual pale likeness coming back as he drinks your precious lifeblood, savouring every drop freely given.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your neck.

“Anytime,” you murmur back, holding him close. It always brings a sense of comfort, feeling him in your embrace, breathing in his scent. You hold him for a while longer, basking in the feeling of his cold undead skin against your warm living skin until the others find the both of you.

Your group makes its way back to Elfsong Tavern while shielding Astarion from the sun’s rays. The walk is filled with a quiet yet comfortable silence, exhaustion from the day’s fight and thoughts of the future that lay ahead setting in.

Everyone files into their own rooms, leaving you and Astarion standing in the corridor, facing one another.

“You really mean it?” He asks. He has to confirm, he has to make sure that he is making the right decision to entrust a part of his future to you.

“Mean what?” You tilt your head quizzically.

“That you don’t mind staying with me.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, playing the corners of the cloak over his head.

“I mean it. We’ll find a way to get you walking in the sun again, and if we cannot, then I don’t mind spending the rest of my life in the shadows.” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You’re all I need, you’re all I want in this future of my choosing. I hope I’m in the future you choose as well.”

In the future he chooses? He…oh right. Cazador is dead, there is no master to tell him what to do, to control his every move. He can decide what he wants to do next, where he wants to go, who he chooses to spend his time with.

And he wants to spend it all with you.

“Of course you are, my love. There’s no one else I’d rather have.” He flashes his usual smile, eyes softening at the way you light up upon hearing his words.

“Then…let’s start planning it, together.”

“Together.” He agrees, liking the way his new future sounds. Even if he had to skulk in the shadows for eternity, maybe such a life wasn’t so bad with you around. He would have you to wake up to, be able to hold you, be loved by you, even if he had to burn under the sun.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[shuenkio]

Secret Secret — ࣪𖤐 승민 .ᐟ

۫ ꣑ৎ Synopsis: They say, as a gay, never fall for the straight guy who’s affectionate and kind. But what happens when the straight guy finds himself falling for you instead?

۫ ꣑ৎ Paring: Seungmin x m!reader

۫ ꣑ৎ Genre: Fluff. ۫ ꣑ৎ Cw: none.

۫ ꣑ৎ non proof read ۫ ꣑ৎ Eng is not my 1st

۫ ꣑ৎ This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

"Here!" He grabs your palm, place a chocolate bar all of the sudden. Causing you to furrow your brows, bewildered the scene.

"But what for?" You asked, still not recognizing his intentions yet. Today was Valentine's day, where everyone gave gifts or received them, and also the day of confessing their feelings to their loved ones you get it. But one thing that was odd was, Seungmin, the excellent and attractive employee in the company was the one who gave you, out all of the other girls, who had a big fat crush on him yet he chose you instead? Should you be happy or sad?

"idiot, it's Valentine day aigoo" the taller scoffed a heavy sigh before walk off, shove his hands back into his pocket act as if this never happened. You scratch the back of your head, unable to react to such a situation since never in your life receive gifts on Valentine's day.

"....what?" Once Seungmin is gone, all your co-workers beside you suddenly circling around like flies, some scream while some are even more excited than you. Who wouldn't when is THE Kim Seungmin, the nonchalantly blunted guy, out of the blue giving you a gift out of everyone, this should be displayed in the museum for real.

"Yaaaa M/N aren't you so lucky to get such gift??" Once say.

"UGH what did you do last live to live in my dream right now!!" Twice say.

"Gosh I better not hear you reject him, or Imma drowning you in this can" thrice say.

"reject? What reject, this is just a small gift right?" Keeping it low, there's no way he was y'know... Into guy? How is it possible if that was such an outright way to ask you out. Groaning was heard once you responded. Ever since you've been working here for god knows how long together with Seungmin, the latter will always find his way to take care of m/n secretly, giving rides home, act of service, helping m/n when he's struggling and gosh, there's so many. However, you don't think that kind of way, as a hopeless romantic guy from all the way childhood to this age now, you realized that you'll never find love since you're a homosexual. Never experience the high school love nor any kind of relationship ever. So when somebody is acting this way, you thought it was normal, isn't it?

"how dumb are you, Don't you notice how he acts when it comes to you ? You're the favoritesm" once say.

"true true, we get nothing during the new years eve but you got a fucking Rolex watch from him" twice say.

"m/n listen to us alright? If you're not certain about him, go ask him if it was worth the try, that man is not the straight forward one— we know how you feel when this happened but think Abt it, it has been a year now— but if you don't do anything, don't say we don't spare mercy, anything is possible just to make you say one word" thrice say.

Their advice lingers on your head. Face resting on your palm, pouting. Tskk it's actually a pretty serious thing for them and you tho, looking back to all the memories it sounds like you are his favorite indeed, as the time goes on it's far more than his favorite person.

"fine okay... I'll ask him this evening, I have dinner with him though" you stated, and focus on finishing your work. While your co-workers went back to their place with a happy grin spread across their face.

"kiss me~ don't say no—"

A sleek, jet-black luxury car rolled to a stop right outside the building, its polished body reflecting the dim lights in a way that made it look almost too perfect to be real. The engine gave a soft hum, like a low purr, almost too smooth to be true.

Then, the door opened—wide, welcoming. Like it was waiting for you.

For a second, you stood there, blinking. Was this really happening? This was getting a little too real, like something straight out of a movie.

You snapped out of it, stepping into the car with a mix of hesitation and something else—you weren’t entirely sure. The leather seat felt too soft, the smell of clean luxury wrapping around you. It was like you were in a different world, one where all of this was normal, and you weren’t still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers a little more unsteady than they should’ve been. As you finally settled in, you glanced at Seungmin.

His face was relaxed, eyes forward, fingers steady on the steering wheel—but there was that smirk at the corner of his mouth. That little smirk that made everything too damn real.

"All set?" he asked, his voice smooth and casual, like this wasn’t completely out of place.

Before you could even answer, the engine roared to life beneath you. The car glided forward, the world outside blurring as you were pulled deeper into whatever this was—whatever he was.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Seungmin, his eyes just flicking toward you for a second, that smirk still there, as if he knew exactly what was running through your mind.Yeah. You were definitely in trouble now.

( in third pov )

The soft hum of conversation filled the air as M/N and Seungmin stepped into the restaurant. The warm glow of fairy lights draped across the ceiling cast a golden hue over the Valentine’s-themed decor—roses in crystal vases, flickering candles, and a breathtaking view of the ocean stretching beyond the glass windows. The faint scent of saltwater mixed with the aroma of fresh pasta and wine. It was undeniably romantic. Too romantic.

M/N swallowed, eyes darting around. It wasn’t that he minded being here with Seungmin, but something about the atmosphere made his chest feel a little tight, his heart just a little too aware. And maybe—just maybe—it had to do with the nagging feeling creeping up on him lately.

Seungmin strolled up to the reception desk, hands in pockets, his usual composed demeanor unreadable. The receptionist, a cheerful woman with a clipboard, greeted them with a bright smile.

"Ah, welcome! Table for two? Are you a couple?"

M/N immediately parted his lips to say No, but before the word could form, Seungmin, ever so casual, nodded and replied, "Yes."

The receptionist beamed.

"Oh, wonderful! Happy Valentine’s Day! You’ll be getting our couple’s discount!"

M/N blinked, a sharp inhale catching in his throat. Excuse me?

Seungmin, on the other hand, remained perfectly unbothered, only lifting a brow at M/N as if to say, What? It’s a discount.

M/N’s mind spiraled in a dozen different directions. Was it just for the sake of the discount? Or was this something else? Something that confirmed that inkling feeling he’d been trying to ignore for weeks?

Still slightly dazed, he followed Seungmin to their table near the floor-to-ceiling window. The restaurant was nestled on a cliffside, giving them an uninterrupted view of the sea. The waves shimmered under the soft glow of the moon, the distant city lights twinkling against the horizon. It was the kind of place lovers would dine at, whispering sweet nothings over candlelit dinners.

And here M/N was, sitting across from Seungmin—Seungmin, who was all nonchalance, leaning back against the seat, sipping water like he hadn’t just thrown M/N’s entire world off its axis.

The meal went by in a blur, M/N hyper-aware of every brush of movement, every fleeting glance. Seungmin, of course, was the same as always, his aloof expression unreadable, his voice carrying that low, effortless ease. And M/N? M/N felt like he was malfunctioning internally.

Then, just as M/N thought he was in the clear, Seungmin casually slid something across the table.

A box. Wrapped neatly with a ribbon.

M/N stared at it. Then at Seungmin. Then back at the box.

"...What’s this?" His voice came out quieter than intended.

Seungmin tilted his head slightly. "A gift."

M/N hesitated. He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he tugged at the ribbon. The box opened with a soft click—inside, nestled in velvet, was a delicate silver bracelet. The charm attached to it was subtle, but M/N recognized the design instantly. It was something he had offhandedly admired months ago while window shopping—something he hadn’t even realized Seungmin had noticed.

M/N’s breath hitched.

His chest felt tight again, but for an entirely different reason.

"...Do you like it?" Seungmin asked, tone as indifferent as ever, but his eyes—those deep, steady eyes—held something softer. Something patient.

M/N swallowed hard, nodding, his voice refusing to work.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. And maybe it was the dim lighting, maybe it was the leftover adrenaline from earlier, or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that everything was finally making sense.

M/N clenched his fists under the table, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

"...Do you," he exhaled slowly, pulse hammering, "like me?"

Seungmin didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He leaned back, exuding that same effortless calm, and said, "I thought that was obvious."

M/N’s heart stopped.

And just like that, everything he had been trying to ignore crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Seungmin watched as M/N sat there, frozen, his fingers twitching slightly against the table. His lips parted like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out. His wide eyes, the way his breath hitched, the sheer disaster of emotions playing out on his face—Seungmin almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

With a sigh, Seungmin leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. "You know," he started, voice even, "I figured you’d be like this."

M/N finally blinked, snapping out of whatever internal meltdown he was going through. "...Like what?"

Seungmin tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Hopeless," he said bluntly. "A hopeless romantic who’s spent his whole life thinking love was something out of reach just because you’ve never had it before." He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. "And yeah, I knew you’d overthink this. But honestly? I don’t care."

M/N stiffened, his breath caught in his throat. "You—"

"I don’t care," Seungmin repeated, this time with a slow, deliberate shrug. "Because I already like you." His gaze was steady, unwavering. "And there’s nothing you can do about that."

M/N’s chest tightened.

Seungmin watched him, as if waiting, as if knowing exactly what was running through his mind. Then, with that same lazy, deadpan tone, he added, "So? What now? You gonna run away? Or are you finally gonna admit you like me back?"

M/N felt his heart lurch. He swallowed thickly, mind racing.

And then, finally, finally, he let out a breath and muttered, "...Fine." His voice was quiet, but firm. "Yes."

Seungmin smirked, like he had just won some long-awaited game. He lifted his glass, taking a sip of water, before setting it down with a soft clink.

"Yeah," he said, exhaling like this was nothing new. "Thought so."

M/N groaned, slumping against the table. He was so done for.

A/n: Guy guess what? I'm doing this experiment with Seungmin y'all!! I'm kicking my feet, giggling, & ate some wall while writing this 😋 my favorite so far— I'd love some comments, like really!!! Should I continue or whatever.

Funtalk: I can't help but to post this in advance, because valentines are 4 more days and I can't wait to see y'all reaction, so yeah...

[cybsoo2]

the flowers of evil

╰┈➤ synopsis — The garden is growing, a red romance is in full bloom. The seven boys each pick a bloody blossom to show you their love. Lovesick lilacs, weeping roses, and black dahlias. Which one will you choose?

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 3.7k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, stalker behavior, manipulative behavior, murder, graphic depictions of violence, breaking & entering, implied/referenced abuse, religious undertones (namjoons section)

—Kim Seokjin

flower type — Wilted Roses

Your room is full of wilted roses

The petals falling to the floor 

What was once a pale pink is now a weeping red 

The flowers die and decay, turning darker as each hour passes

He hates the smell, so bittersweet

Floral from another man mixed with your salty tears

Jin hates him for what he did

How could he hurt his darling divine? 

If you were his then you wouldn’t have any time for tears

He’d kiss you so sweet that your cries would be quiet

He’d leave lipstick stains all over your shirt

The people on the subway would stare, but then they’d know that you’re all his

Of course he’d let you do the same

To claim his skin with crimson kisses

 Leaving purple bruises that bite at him

The marks would leave a sting, a reminder of your love

And he’d press down on them with his fingers, feeling how deep your love can go

He’d never hide your love, not like your (soon to be ex) boyfriend did

Cheating on you from behind closed doors

Then sending rancid roses as an apology

They aren’t even the ones you like

No, Seokjin would take pride in your passion and show it off to the world

He's so certain he’d be the better boyfriend

He has all these thoughts of dates at dusk, your shy smile as he makes you laugh, shadows of your touch on his skin…

Jin has the perfect plan

He’ll step into your boyfriend’s shoes, throwing the man aside and slowly taking over his life

Seokjin will speak sweet lies, watching as they spread like wildfire

Lies that’ll turn you two lovers against each other

Driving a wedge between the both of you

All the while Jin watches from afar

Playing patient and slowly planting his seeds of deception

Days go on of you drifting apart

Arms once wrapped around one another slowly unwinding

Heartstrings finally snapping and the bond you two once had now broken

After the hard parts done, all Seokjin has to do is sweep in and steal you away

Letting you cry on his shoulder as he charms his way into your heart

The blueprint is drawn out in his mind and he’s ready to take action

But first, he’ll start by setting fire to these flowers

—Min Yoongi

flower type — Black Dahlia

The days are getting darker

Black dahlias in bloom

Their floral scent fills his room

The sweet smell reminds him of you

Yoongi paces back and forth, flattening down a trail in his cream coloured carpet

His mind is such a mess

Tossing around ideas of what to do, it feels like a tennis match going on in his head

All the words blur together until its hazy lines and he feels as if he’s hyperventilating

His head and his heart are splitting himself apart

Torn between two choices: Ask you out for Valentine’s day? Or stay away and suffer in silence

He knows the logical option– and he wouldn’t even be considering this if it wasn’t for how sad you looked…

Sitting on the curb, a chill brushing over your bare skin

September has set in and along with it is the autumn air 

It paints your cheeks pink, dusting them a rosy red colour

Your confession almost got lost in the wind, just a hushed whisper only he could hear

“I wish just this once… I could be someone’s first choice to love.”

Your words are all that ring through his ears and he’s right brought back to his dilemma

His nerves set him alight, his whole body on fire

He clenches and unclenches his fists, squeezing the stem of the flowers in his hands

The thorns tear through his skin, leaving scarlet to trickle down his arms

The pain doesn’t even register in his mind, all too focused on the heavy weight in his heart

Breathing is hard, each inhale stings his throat as short pants echo out into the room

It doesn’t help that he’s also mumbling his thoughts to himself, trying to clear up the mess in his head but leaving no room to breathe instead

Realistically, Yoongi knows how this should end

He knows what’s right and he knows that if he indulges himself just this once… There no telling how far he’ll go

Caught up in a selfish choice and spiralling further into obsession

All Yoongi has is his mind

His bodies betrayed him, he gets so sick when you’re not near

He can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do anything without feeling like he’s in a constant state of free-fall without you

His heart is a traitor too

It longs for you, begs to bring you in close and keep you as his own

But he bites back the agony and locks it away in his ribcage

 Yoongi’s mind is the only sliver of sanity he has left

So he’ll keep you at arms length

Far enough away that he can’t hurt you, but close enough for comfort

Yoongi’s just about made up his mind when fate is taking the chance out of his hands 

You walk into the room, tears on your cheeks and words ready to leave your lips

But whatever you were about to say is suddenly silenced as your eyes land upon the flowers in his hands

A bit mangled and blood dripping down the sides, but the black dahlias are beautiful nonetheless

Your eyes stay glued to them, a thousand thoughts running through your head

One idea must’ve clicked because now your iris shines with something akin to adoration

You look at Yoongi and ask, “Are those for me?”

And when you look at him like that, all he can do is say yes

Taking the flowers from his hold, you’ve officially accepted your place in his life

Yet you couldn’t be more unaware of just exactly what you got yourself into

—Jung Hoseok

flower type — White Lily

White lilies, the fragile flower

So delicate, so desirable, they look just like you

Petals drifting downwards

They follow the wind, flowing freely just like your white wedding dress

It should be a day to enjoy

The sun rising over east

Birds twitter their spring song

The leaves turning over as they change colours along with the season

April is warm and everyone wears it with a smile

That winter chill has begun to defrost

Melting away and bringing forth short dresses and sun-kissed skin

To be honest, everyone is in their element (everyone except Hoseok of course)

Glowing skin and bright smiles

Hundreds of eyes look at you and when Hoseok turns to follow their gaze…

He would be lying if he didn’t say you were the happiest of them all

You look so gorgeous in your gown

You as Mother Nature and your dress the earth’s decoration

Your train flows like the river, ivory patterns of lily pads woven into the lace

Silver jewelry adorns your wrists, sparkling in the sunlight

It wraps around your arms like Hoseok wishes he could do

White sleeves are also sewn into your dress, intricate designs traced into the fabric

Thread twists into your arms like cravings on tree branches

Barely visible outlines of flowers stems tie into the silk

Nobody else would ever notice, but Hoseok does

It reminds him all too well of the words he wrote on his own tree when the lilies were in bloom

The floret filled the field, their petals brushing against his skin as he etched your names into the ebony wood

He was so unbelievably naive back then, but at least he was at his happiest

Blissfully unaware of the other man who stole your attention and captured your heart (as if it was ever his to begin with)

Hoseok lived in a glass castle in the sky

Watching the seasons change thinking you were still his 

All the while you shared drunken kisses in the dark with someone whose name he doesn’t even know

And as the years went by you found your happiness in someone else’s heart

The dam has broken and Hoseok’s delusion is beginning to disappear 

There’s cracks in the glass and it threatens to shatter, but he’ll hold it together just a little while longer

You gaze happily over at another man

Affection in your eyes and a smile that Hoseok hasn’t seen on you in years

Suddenly everything has become all too real, and Hoseok understands that you were never met to be

He could never treat like you deserved, never measure up to a real man, never make you truly happy (but he could’ve loved you like no other)

As you say your vows and the sun begins to set, your ceremony has reached its end

All while Hoseok keeps a porcelain like smile on his face

The wedding takes on it’s final dance and Hobi marches into his funeral

He walks away without a goodbye (His last ‘I love you’ is in the letter in your pocket, he couldn’t find the strength to spit the words out)

Hoseok passes by the lilies in the field, tramped under his feet

He heads back home where silver blades and shiny painkillers are waiting for him

And he knows that the happiest you’ll ever be, is the day he dies

—Kim Namjoon

flower type — Carmine Carnation

Snowdrops and scarlet petals fall upon the open casket

There lies your lover, surrounded with carnations and encased in an empty box

Really, his tragic fate was his own fault

He got too tied up in you

Acting as if he owned you, as if your skin was his to touch and his to harm

He forgot his place on the podium is all, and Namjoon knocked him back down to where he belongs

Buried down in the dirt and six-feet below you

He’s nothing compared to a goddess 

So far beneath you that he’ll soon become the bones you walk on

His skeleton nothing but the stairs that uplift you

Each rib a rung in the ladder you’ll climb 

Digging the back of your heels into each vertebrate, the spines of the fallen could stretch for miles

It’s not like he was the first anyways

Namjoon’s gotten his game down to a tee

Killing is ever so easy

It takes no more effort then to offer a simple– push

The coroner said it was an accident, tripped over his own two feet

Tumbled down the stairs, cracking his head open on each concrete step

Spilling his scarlet like sin down the whole spiral staircase

Namjoon’s been the silent executioner for years

Taking hold of the sinners like cattle only to send them to the slaughter

The light in their eyes wouldn’t hold a candle in comparison to the sun of your soul

And while hundreds of corpses lay behind your back (you none the wiser), something about this time is different

Namjoon hasn’t seen you this sad in years

The tears don’t stop, not even when he offers his hand to wipe them away

Your sadness has been steady ever since you found out

An ocean in your eyes, running down like a river to your lips (Namjoon has hallucinations of how it’d feel to kiss them. Soft while you stutter through a breath. Tasting like salt as your tears run down his tongue. But, he’s quick to shake these impurities away.)

You always cry so easily to tells himself

Your tears are not his fault, but rather apart of your very nature

Breaking down from the simplest of things, you truly care for every creature in this world

It always surprises Namjoon how you could have empathy for even the foulest of criminals

But isn’t that why he’s so drawn to you?

So caring and kind, you’re the light in his darkest of times

An angel who can do no wrong

It’d be impossible for you to ever harm a human soul, even if it has to be done

But that’s why you have Namjoon to do the dirty work for you

He’ll avenge his archangel from the rot that uproots the earth

Protecting your innocent eyes as he slaughters those sinners like pigs

Eternal warrior, he worships the ground you walk on

Commander of his mind and captor of his heart, he gives his all to you

—Park Jimin

flower type — A Blooming Bruise

February is the season of blooming bruises and careless cuts

They fall like flower petals down your arm

Each blossoming bruise is shaded with all the pretty pinks and purples you like, but Jimin thinks they’re the ugliest things he’s ever seen

Each purple petal is shaped like fingerprints

Indents on your skin, a constant reminder of what he did

 Jimin can’t believe he didn’t notice it sooner

Too blinded by hate to see that his soulmate was suffering

The guilt is a hungry monster caged in his chest

It gnashes its teeth and claws at his heart

He’s so unbelievably sorry that he couldn’t see the truth sooner

But before he can fall into a spiral of self-hatred, Jimin’s rage is redirected to the asshole who broke your beauty

The man– no– boy who you call your lover

The one who smells like cigarettes, their scent drowning out your floral perfume

The boy who kisses you rough, leaving marks all up your neck

The bastard who tells you he loves you, only to turn a fist when you do something he doesn’t like

Jimin hates him so much it almost outweighs his love for you

Almost

He can’t stand to see you cry

It makes him sick to his stomach and he can’t stop his own tears from trailing down his face

Your happiness is his first priority

So, he’ll stay by your side until you’ve got no tears left to cry

Even after all your sadness has run dry, he refuses to let you go

Your head tucked into his shoulder, breathe tickling his throat and sending chills down his spine

Chapped lips that crack down the center, how he wishes he could kiss you without consequences

Jimin takes you into his arms, a hand placed under your thighs and one wrapped around your waist

Your curious as to where he’s taking you, moved from sitting on the firm floorboards and now wandering away to somewhere unknown

You pry your eyes away from the crook of his neck and try to peek over his shoulder

But his palm pushes your head back down and he tells you to get some rest

Jimin wraps you both in a blanket and brings you down to lay on his bed

Sinking down into a sea of blue sheets, sleep comes quick

You settle in with Jimin behind your back

A shield against any monsters that might sneak up on you at night

He buries his face in your hair, breathing in the floral scent that was once so smothered by smoke

Jimin places kisses upon your neck, sending you off to sleep the safest you’ve ever felt

And as you’re drifting off in a dream, Jimin thinks up all the ways to get rid of your lousy lover

—Kim Taehyung

flower type — Red Roses

Romantics can be so predictable 

Flipping through the acts of love like it’s a playbook

Placing red roses on your doorstep every day of the week

Putting chocolates in your mailbox that’ll end up melting from the May heat

Romantics are the writers, the poets, the purely in love

They write lyrics with every word they speak

Singing sonnets as if it’s as easy as the breathe they take

Little drawings of cupid scrawled into table-tops and love letters written on napkins

These are the trademarks of any hopeless romantic

And at first glance, all these acts would make your heart stop and cheeks flush

But when does it begin to border on the obsessive?

Taehyung isn’t driven by desire, he doesn’t have his head in the clouds or act like lovers do

But rather, it’s the armoured emotion that has him under its control

Stuck on the idea of love and a slave to obsession, he won’t stop at anything until he has it just right

Everything has to be perfect when it involves you

Always needing more and it’s never enough

At first it started off small

Flowers petals found their way to your front door– then past the entrance and scattered throughout your home

Chocolate covered strawberries sit wound up in a bow– placed inside your fridge so they won’t start to melt

He’ll put a teddy bear upon your bed– tucked in tight and smelling sweetly like his cologne

Taehyung hopes that it’ll chase away the bad dreams you’ve been having lately

He sees your pale skin and the purpling eyebags that drag you down

He can only dream that the bear, dressed handsomely in a suit so like his own, will ward off the monsters that scare you in your sleep (unaware that he’s the very monster hiding in the dark)

Taehyung also writes words to you, twisted in obsession

They fall from his tongue faster than his hand can catch them

Messy handwriting and clumsy sentences

But he tries to make it pretty just for you, dotting the ‘I’s with hearts and looping the ‘O’s to look like flowers

Poems of pure passion fall down from your mailbox, overflowing because every though he has of you is a confession of his heart

‘Days flow by like the flowers. A bud blooms in the early sky and I awake to your smile.’

Pieces of a passage are stuffed into the trash

You can’t stand to look at the words without tearing up in terror

 ‘Dawn breaks and the petals begin to fall. I gather them in my arms, taking in their memory and etching their beauty into my mind. I take them away like the kisses I steal without you knowing.’

Taehyung notices all his notes have found their way to the bottom of the bin

Maybe he wasn’t obvious enough? He’ll try again

Taehyung texts you the next line of his poem

‘Flowers so fragile I fear they’ll fall apart. Twilight takes over the sun and the flowers will wilt. Delicate and like a dance, I collect the crimson leaves. Holding them in my hands like I do you at night.’

You’ve changed your number

His blue words are sent into the abyss

So he turns to the phone placed upon your wall

Drilled into the drywall and built into the brick, you’ll have to tear the thing out if you want to get rid of his voice

Taehyung calls out into the empty apartment, his honey-tone ringing out into oblivion 

‘Darkness grows like roots in the earth. A disease taints your touch and the weak rose is dying. Burn like iron but broken like a ribcage. Hollow glass that lets my heart see through. Such brittle beauty needs nothing more than my protection. I’ll take you into my arms before you drift afar.’

His words don’t reach your ears

You haven’t let him into your heart just yet

But next time he’s for certain, because when he delivers the next lyric in his love song, he’ll make sure to do it in person

—Jeon Jungkook

flower type — Hemlock

Jungkook’s wrath will be the death of you

His anger raging on in his heart

It builds day by day, burning ash catches fire and soon his whole life is a flaming inferno

He tried so hard to hide it too

Only after you’ve fallen fast asleep would he sneak out into the shadows

Dressed in darkness and eyes of evil, the reaper has come to wreak havoc on the world

He sees his target and stalks them like prey

His footsteps match the unknown mans

Jungkook’s so close he can hear all the dirty thoughts slipping out of his head

Hurtful words and harmful thoughts you came crying to him about only a few days prior

And now his hands twitch to kill, the only weapon he brought with him

He’ll wrap his slender fingers around the man’s throat

Choking back his cries and staring at him with empty eyes

The man would lose his blue breath

Hands scratching at Jungkook’s arms, leaving long lacerations that’ll stick to his skin

Then, Jungkook would start to squeeze harder

Thumbs digging into his throat as he tries to scream

His trachea begins to crack, bone breaking under pressure

But before he loses consciousness, a slide of his hands has Jungkook snapping his neck

And that’s just what he does

The same as he’s done to the thousands of others who’ve hurt his angel

Tonight will be like any other, slipping out of your arms in the dead of darkness

Tucking you in tight as he kisses your forehead

He lingers for a second, staring at you in your peaceful sleep

But then the angers rises once again and next thing you know he’s grabbing his weapon of choice and walking out the door

This nights pick of poison is ironic

A fatal flower that Jungkook knows the florist will enjoy

Killed by the very thing she loved most

Poison hemlock that he sprinkled into her drink

So unassuming as the tainted water slides down her throat

Jungkooks watches in anticipation, waiting for the seeds to sprout

For the roots to dig through her skin and spread their poison to her stomach

He watches and waits, checking the clock over and over

Time ticks on and on as nothing seems to happen

And while Jungkook waits for the woman to meet her end, in another room, you take of sip from the same glass

Both sitting on the bedside table, but mixed up in Jungkook’s mess of emotions

You drink down the drug, its venom running through your veins

Flower petals fall past your lips

They flood your mind and fill up your heart

And all of a sudden, you finding yourself falling fast asleep

Your eyes shut slowly, tiredness taking over your bones

It’s only a minute before your soul starts to slip

A fast and fatal death before Jungkook even has the time to realize

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