youre allowed to scream

Timeloop Aftermath

((I decided to create a possible idea of what might happen with the Aftermath of this AU. It’s a brilliant AU, so many possibilities and great writing on your part (I also love your art wow)! So, here it is! I hope you like it!))

After the incident, everything in Jeremy’s life changed, and for the better.

After he told Michael about everything that had happened (using the journal as proof, even if he has to read it to him and persuade it to him enough to make him believe him), he was convinced by Michael to get the Squip out of his brain.

There was a whole shitload of stuff that happened (may possibly write it out), whereas Jeremy had to fight against the Squip'a forces, talk to Rich, and finally get that Mountain Dew Red to end it all, Michael being his main support.

Afterwards, with everything that had happened to them with the party and Squips, Jeremy finally seemed to be accepted by people. Not only did Rich come out as bi and started being good friends with Jeremy and Michael, he got them one step closer to Jake, Chloe, Brook and Jenna. Christine had taken a liking to helping Michael after the accident (Jeremy wasn’t into her anymore since he figured out his feelings for Michael, however he couldn’t help appreciate all the amazing things she did), and so the Drama Crew was formed, their friendship really unexpected and magnificent.

Not to mention that Jeremy and Michael had gotten together quickly. Jeremy visited Michael in the hospital everyday after the accident until he got out. Apparently Michael would have full blindness for up to a year, six-nine months at least, and then he’s have eyesight problems for the rest of his life (so, worse than needing glasses obviously, however he’d have partial blindness at times. However it wouldn’t affect him as greatly, and not as bad forever).

Despite the joking bets about how long they’d last, they lasted.. that’s just it. They lasted. They graduated, went to college together (They were cool in college, let me tell you,) and moved in together shortly afterwards. They went on dates, got a dog named Pac-Man (a stray Michael found on the street, what a furry,) , and eventually had a wedding! It was small but cute, the Crew was there, Jeremy’s dad was there, Michael’s parents were there, and Mr. Reyes was there for some reason. It was all amazing, life couldn’t go better for Michael and Jeremy Heere.

That’s the saying, you can only go up. But when you’re up, where else can you go? Well.. only down, of course.

Jeremy and Michael were in their early 40’s. It had been so long since everything happened, the two never imagined Michael’s sight could be so bad ever again. He had been able to see just fine since he had turned 31, despite still needing glasses. They hadn’t even costed the doctor in a whole year, they were so confident.

Confidence wasn’t enough.

Michael had always been insistent on driving himself places after he had gotten better. To practice driving again after getting better, he went to the grocery store to get stuff for the week for them every week, and he had just kept it up since. It wasn’t a big deal.

It had been September when this whole instance occurred. Jeremy sat at home on this Monday, when he had the work day off for Labor day. He sorted through the papers in his hands that was keeping him busy. It wasn’t business papers, oh no (he couldn’t work for a big business anyways, it reminded him of the Squip. Plus he just hated the thought of working in a cubical), these were adoption papers. Jeremy and Michael had been thinking about this for yesrs, and now they were thing of going through with this. He was reading through the different foster care systems near them, when he heard his phone ring.

Jeremy wasn’t one to let his phone go to voicemail unless he was really, really into something or just couldn’t reach the phone. This wasn’t one of those times. He was quite calm at the moment, normal, feeling alright..

He suddenly didn’t feel alright. With the sound of the stranger over the line telling him about the accident. Telling him that his player two had swivered off the side of the highway into a ditch in a frenzy. He was at the hospital. He was under-

Jeremy had stopped listening. Why? Because he dripped his phone on the way outside. Panic ran through his body as he sped out of the driveway in his car, cutting someone off and not caring for a single second.

He could barely breathe as he raced towards the hospital. He knew where it was from how many times he’s been there for this man and this man alone. This man he loved more than anything in the world. The man he saw die so many times before- but felt it so real this time that he felt like he would die right here and now if he didn’t make it to the hospital.

Adrenalin filled him as he crashed into the ER, frantically waving down anyone at all to tell him where Michael was. He looked insane, so if course, security had stopped him before a nurse had came to him.

“Where’s Michael? Where- I-Im married to him! I-is he ok?”

“Sir, were doing everything we can. Hes in a critical state. You have to calm-”

“I can’t calm down! I have to see him- h-he can’t die! I can’t let him d-die! Please!” Jeremy held back the word ‘again’. He also held back tears.

“Sir, I..”

Just then, a doctor stepped into the area. He talked to the lady at the front counter before making his way over to us. “You’re Jeremy Heere, sir?”

Jeremy nodded quickly. “Y-yes, where’s Michael? Is he ok? H-hes ok, right?”

The doctor had paused.

Jeremy felt a fear rush through him at this silence. “H-hes, t-tell me Michael’s ok! Tell me!” He persisted, his voice escalating.

The doctor spoke calmly, obviously rehearsed and drone-like. “I’m sorry sir. There was nothing else we could do for him. Michael had punctured his lung and bled to death before we could do anything usef..”

Jeremy felt his heart drop as the words sunk in. His thoughts seemed to stop, scream to a halt, not disappear, but a much , much worse feeling. The feeling of his whole life crashing down on him and fleeing him at the same time. His heart stopped, like everything else, for a pause that seemed to last for hours.

Then it all hit him. All of it. His heart came back, feeling an ache that only grew worse with every pump. His mind filled with the words of the doctor, the thoughts of his lovers death, the thoughts of Michael, Michael, Michael is dead.

Jeremy was crying. His cheeks were leaking as he pulled himself away from the other men. He stumbled back, still staring at the doctor. His vision became blurry as he started crying harder than every before, his breath becoming tiny gasps, his feet losing balance when he realised he was outside the hospital, on the grass. He brought his hands to his face, weeping and whaling profusely to himself, alone.

Everything came flooding back. And it all guilted him. He could have gone grocery shopping with him. For him. He could have taken him to the doctors to get checked up, seen that his sight might get worse. Checked that his lover was ok with a phone call, say “I love you, player two” one last time. The worst part was that he couldn’t remember the last words they had exchanged.

His mind was in such a spiraling state that he started thinking of everything bad that he ever did to Michael. He reached his deaths, he reached the looping. He remembered every death. He remembered his pain and how none of that pain was nearly as bad as it is now. Now was the worst day of his life. And there had been many bad days for Jeremy Heere.

He just wanted to see his face one more time. He wanted to see his lover, his player two, his alive husband, his best friend, his partner in crime, the most amazing person in the world-

“Or you’ll what?”

The bathroom. The light. The taste of shitty, terrible liquor threatening his mouth. And right in front of him, almost 30 years younger, was the love of his life. He teared up.

“M-Michael?”


(HOOOOO BOYYYYYY I AM. I AM DEC E ASED

I AM LIKE. LIKE THIS

I’M AM PHYSICALLY W EAK

That was really really really fantastic, wow!! I have had thoughts about making the timeline where Michael goes blind the final timeline, sort of like, there’s gotta be some sacrifices, but they don’t necessarily have to be someone dying, ya know? And just imagining all the fun stuff that he and Jeremy go through afterward, hoooo!

All I can think about now is Jeremy pushing Michael (who’s wearing like, shutter shades or a pair of ridiculous sunglasses probably) around in a wheel chair through school and Michael’s like “Move outta the way, bitches, I got an escort to class” and like. Once they recover they get comfortable enough to make blind jokes ppfffp
Although I do like the idea of Michael’s sight coming back eventually. Like the accident at Jake’s house was only temporary and he regains his sight after a couple months or a year or smth.

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO SCREAMING THAT WRECKED ME AAAA!! I just can’t imagine how awful that would be, to live thirty years and then be taken back in time all the way back to the start of the whole thing;; but now Jeremy can try to prevent the whole blind thing, yeah? (Maybe instead Jeremy ends up going blind :0)

STOP KILLING MICHAEL I say as I continue to kill Michael in multiple of my AUs haha–//shot

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!! You guys are awesome continuing to shower me with fics and beautiful art and giving me more ideas for this AU I AM TRULY. TRULY BLESSED.)

Witch Tip

It’s okay to be negative. I keep seeing and hearing other witches say that you have to be positive in order to attract positive things into your life. But sometimes you gotta let those negative feelings out. You need to cry and scream and curse and throw things. Use those energies as a way to bring change into your life. While crying, screaming, and cursing, really allow yourself to feel the strength of your emotions and then release that energy with your intent to bring in something better.

Villain

Request: hiiii can i get a prompt 19 with kihyun :) :) :) pretty please

19) You and your bias are rival idols forced to work with each other on a collaboration

Member: Monsta X’s Kihyun x Y/N

Type: some angst, some fluff, some romance. (warning: inappropriate language/references)


You fidgeted in the back of the SUV that was seemingly swallowing you whole. You weren’t sure if you were angry, frustrated, sad, or nervous. More than likely, it was an anxiety inducing in-between, but you tried to swallow your insecurities. Heart burn and acid in your esophagus were a physical manifestation of the nerves, mixing with your heart repeatedly plummeting to your feet and back to your chest again. 

Your manager had informed you just over a week ago that you had landed an OST for one of the most talked up dramas of the year. You would be performing a duet, but the other artist hadn’t yet been selected. You were notably excited, realizing what a big opportunity this would be for your career.  Only a few days later, you were called to your manager’s office. Told to shut the door, you were already aware of the heavy tone weighing down the air. She had informed you that you would be working with someone you had detested since shortly after your debut.

Yoo Kihyun of Monsta X. 

You weren’t exactly sure when or how you became rivals. Your relationship had developed simply enough, strictly work with the occasional conversation exchanged. This had all seemed to become altered once you had both been special MC’s for Music Bank during your last comeback cycles. Both of your groups had been up for a win that week, which caused an unnecessary awkwardness between the two of you. After your group had won, once again snatching away Monsta X’s first win (although they would move forward to win the next week) your relationship had changed. 

From that point on, every time you had run into Monsta X, Kihyun had something sarcastic or rude to say. You grew to dread running into the group, which wasn’t fair to yourself or the other men of Monsta. Hearing that you would have to spend hours, if not days with him, set your nerves on edge. 

You tried to shake the thoughts from your head as you felt a light squeeze on your knee. Looking up, you met the sad smile of your manager who gave a polite nod toward the door. You hesitantly grasped the handle and gave it a gentle push, exposing you to the morning sunlight you weren’t prepared for. 

Then again, you weren’t prepared for a lot of things. 

You looked up to the Starship Entertainment building, wincing at the immensity of it. You weren’t sure how your manager had negotiated, if she had at all, but you had agreed it would be best if you used a Starship studio for the project. You glanced over your shoulder to get another supportive nod from your manager as you shuffled toward the heavy glass doors that provided entry into the building. 

After checking in with the receptionist, you and your manager were led down hall after hall. It felt like hours as you trailed behind the woman, her short and thin frame darting from one direction to the next. Eventually you reached another set of glass doors with several people on the opposite side. She pulled them open, struggling with the weight as she waved you inside. 

“Hello,” your manager chimed, bowing to everyone in the room. You followed suit, keeping your eyes low. 

“I’m unsure if everyone has met,” one of the Starship managers nodded. “But this is Kihyu-”

“We’ve met,” Kihyun sighed shortly. Your face immediately darted up as you made eye contact with the cold man. His appearance had changed since the last time you had seen him, but then again, so had yours. His hair had gone from a bubblegum pink to a dark brown. He wore a beanie, keeping his hair pushed back from his face. He wasn’t wearing any makeup, but he didn’t have anything to cover up anyhow. He was brutally handsome, which made the situation so much worse. “No need for the pleasantries.”

“Ah, Kihyun, should we treat our guests this way?” his manager laughed nervously, casting a wary side eye to one of the producers set up at the mixing board. 

“Let’s just get to work,” Kihyun grumbled, launching himself from the couch he was lounging on. He leaned back, grabbing a piece of paper he had been looking over, and crumpled it a bit. He looked back to you, pushing the now crushed paper into your hands. “The lyrics.”

He sauntered past you and into the sound booth and placed a pair of headphones over his ears. Your mouth popped open, shocked by his open act of hostility. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” his manager gasped, rubbing at his temples. “I’m so sorry.”

You slowly shut your mouth, taking in a deep breath through your nose to calm yourself. “Don’t be.”


“Alright, let’s take a break!” the composer called over the studio mic, replacing the track with his voice in the sound booth. Kihyun cocked his eyebrows as he looked up from his paper and to you. 

“Didn’t we just take a break?” he asked uncertainly. 

“Yeah, we need to have a talk,” Kihyun’s manager responded, waving you both in. You looked warily to Kihyun as you hopped from your stool and past him. 

“Yah, watch it,” he grumbled as you bumped into his knee. 

“Look, this is literally a four by four glass box,” you hissed, turning to give him a death glare. His eyes grew wide at your tone. This had been the first time you had spoken to him since you had arrived to Starship. “If you don’t want to get bumped into, take more of an effort to make yourself smaller. Oh wait…you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

His jaw dropped as he openly stared at you, unblinking. You tried to not smile at your small victory, making sure to back into him and bump his leg again as you exited the booth.

“What’s up?” you sighed, plopping onto the couch beside your manager. She pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose, a sign you had become familiar with. This expression was usually synonymous with bad news. 

“It’s not working,” Kihyun’s manager sighed as he had entered the room. “Your chemistry…”

“It just isn’t there,” your manager finished. “While you both sing beautifully…there’s no feeling behind the words.”

“The feeling is what sells it,” Kihyun’s manager sighed. 

Kihyun was leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, biting repeatedly at his lip. He looked up from his shoes and to his manager. “I always sound soulful, my words are always believable.”

“Not this time,” his manager muttered, shaking his head. “You sound hollow.” 

“Hollow!” Kihyun croaked, his cheeks becoming pink with anger and embaressment. “Well what about my partner! I can only be as good as who I’m paired with!”

“There is something lacking with both of you,” your manager cooed. You lifted your brows in surprise at her words. This was the first time she had ever given you any sort of negative feedback, no matter how small it was. She placed a comforting hand on your knee, but you quickly shifted to avoid her touch. 

“Maybe you two should have a conversation, just the two of you,” Kihyun’s manager said slowly. ‘It seems as if a heaviness has been filling up the room since you have gotten together.”

Kihyun rolled his eyes as he pushed off from the wall and pulled open the door. He sighed as he looked at you, his expression asking if you were coming along. 

You sucked at your back teeth, wincing as you stood. You didn’t even care about the OST anymore, you just wanted to be out of this uncomfortable situation. 

“You need to get your shit together,” Kihyun hissed, almost as soon as you stepped into the hallway. You could hardly believe his words. You looked down, realizing his muscular fingers were wrapped around your arm. You shook him off, recoiling from his touch and shot him the dirtiest look you could muster. 

“Don’t touch me,” you spat. “I need to get my shit together? At least I’m not accosting my singing partner in the hallway.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, accosting?” Kihyun groaned. “I was hoping to shake some sense into you.” 

“I’m not one to let the villain win,” you whispered. “But I can’t do this anymore. I quit.” 

You began to enter the studio again, only to have Kihyun grip you by the shoulder and spin you around. He tugged you a bit further down the hall, causing you to drag your feet in an attempt to halt him. 

“What in the hell Kihyun?” you gasped as he finally stopped, looking around to see the area he had pulled you to wasn’t as well lit and only led to an emergency exit. 

He turned, placing either of his hands on the opposite side of the wall beside your face. He pushed his body entirely too close to yours, the heat of his emotion radiating toward you. He used his arms as a cage in which you were incapable of escaping. Your breathing grew more shallow at his close proximity, unknowingly allowing him to search your face with scrutiny. 

“I’ll scream,” you whispered, your eyes not backing down from his. 

“Do it,” Kihyun hissed back, his words a challenge. You opened your lips for a moment, considering the idea, but promptly closed them, knowing full well you couldn’t get him into that sort of trouble. 

“Why am I the villain? And who even calls people villains anymore?” he continued. You looked out of your peripherals at his hands encasing you, flat against the wall. His chest was flush against yours, a constant reminder of his existence and absurdity of the situation. 

“Who has who pinned to the wall?” you mumbled. “But you’re the one who seems to have a problem with me, Yoo Kihyun. It’s not the other way around.”

“Why in the hell would I have a problem with you?” Kihyun spit. “You’re the one making this whole situation awkward.”

“What kind of skewed universe are you living in?” you laughed bitterly. “You’ve treated me as if I was a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe ever since my group won at Music Bank.”

“You think that’s what this is about?” Kihyun gaped. “A stupid award show?”

“Then what is it about? Enlighten me!” you gasped. 

Kihyun nodded for a moment, his eyes focusing on your lips before he looked back up to you. “Have you ever heard…that some men show their emotions like children sometimes? That they will bully women they have feelings for?…I think…I think I can show you better than I can explain it to you.”

“This isn’t a drama, Kihyun,” you grumbled. “I don’t t know if this OST has you in your feelings, but-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as Kihyun pressed his lips into yours. The kiss was hesitant at first, soft with uncertainty. Surely Kihyun had some idea that you could possibly rear back and smack the smugness from his face, but you were unsure if you wanted to do that. Your vision had begun to blur in the few moments before you finally decided to close your eyes and kiss back. 

Kihyun took this as a signal to remove his hands from the wall and let them rest lightly on your waist. You lifted your own fingers to curl around the back of his neck and play with the hair at his nape. With his tongue, Kihyun parted your lips, using his force to tilt your head back and explore even further. You relaxed into the kiss, getting over the initial shock and allowed him to do what he wanted. All of the angst and anxiety from the day melted away and into the kiss. Nothing about today had felt more right than this moment. Kihyun pulled you closer, stroking your back through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. Surely, this would give you inspiration for your song.

“Kihyun! Y/N! Where did you go?” the deep voice belonging to Kihyun’s manager called down the hallway.

Kihyun’s lips detached from yours, taking a small moment to smile at you. “We’re coming…

…well, not yet. I’ll have you doing that tonight actually.”

Originally posted by klhyunnie

10 Years (The Aftermath)

 Pairing: Stiles x Reader

A/N: we are so close to the end, can you smell the tears and heartbreak?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (you are here) | Part 7

Originally posted by el-chico-depresivo-y-suicida


“It’s not what it looks like.”

But it always is, isn’t it? You couldn’t stop the words from slipping out of your mouth when Asher asked you about it, you replayed the moment in your head repeatedly, thinking of so many different things you could have said, but either way, you knew it was over.

“The ring.”

“No, Ash, baby, don’t do this.”

Keep reading

Better Be Quiet Now (Sonny Carisi)

Masterlist

Request for anon:  Uhhhhh now i need an imagine or something having sex with sonny in his childhood bedroom PLEASE  Also bonus points if he has to keep his partner quiet 😉😉😉😉😉

Requests were closed, but whatev I couldn’t get this out of my head so 

*NSFW!*

Originally posted by emilyabeth


After finding out that your apartment building had to be fumigated over the weekend, you begged Sonny to book a hotel for a few nights. This weekend just so happened to be Sonny’s full weekend off, so you tried convincing him, saying that it could be a mini-vacation for the two of you. Sonny wasn’t buying it, insisting that his mother would be more than happy to have you over for the weekend. 

‘It’ll be great!’ he exclaimed as you two packed a few necessities, ‘Ma’s homecookin’ every night, and dad’s Sunday mornin’ breakfast before church!’ Unbeknownst to you, though, Sonny’s mom had agreed to watch Gina’s daughters that Friday night, (all four of them, all under the tender age of seven.) So, as soon as you and Sonny walked through mama Carisi’s front door that evening, you were bombarded by little girls in tutus and screams of ‘Uncle Sonny!’ Plus, during dinner, his mother thought it important to ask you when you and her son were planning on having children of your own. It was tiring to say the least.

It’s not that you didn’t love Sonny’s family. Really, his mother was a sweetheart and his father was nice to talk to and his sister’s kids were the cutest. However, you had only been at his parent’s house for one night and you were already almost regretting agreeing to spend the weekend.

Now, though, all four girls were fast asleep and his parents had retired for the night, allowing you and Sonny alone time for the first time all day. The girls had set up camp in the guest bedroom, so you and Sonny were forced to stay in his old bedroom where Sonny was currently splayed on top of you with a hand under your shirt, kneading your breast and mouthing at your neck.

Keep reading

The Joker x Reader - “The Other Shadow”

Before you died, you promised not to leave him. Yet you did and The Joker was left behind with the demons he can’t keep at bay any longer. Little he knows that bound by his grief and your dying promise, you are still here; you never left.

“She won’t stop bleeding!”, J pants, pressing on the towels covering your numerous gunshot wounds. “Frost, where’s the goddamned doctor?!” he shouts, angered.

“On his way, sir!”  Jonny reports, awaiting orders.

“Here, Pumpkin, press here!” he tries to keep your hand on your abdomen injuries but your arm slides back down to the side of your body. “Frost! More towels!” J barks while you stare at the ceiling, struggling to breathe. You got shot twice in the chest and three times in the abdomen; there is also a lesion on your left leg the Joker didn’t even notice due to all the blood you’re covered with.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me!” he turns your face towards him and you can barely hear the words.

“Here, sir!” Frost hands over the fresh towels; J tosses the bloody ones on the ground and places the new ones on your wounds.

Suddenly, blood gushes from your mouth, dripping down your chin, then behind your neck, forming a pool of sticky liquid by your head.

“Shit! Hey, hey, look at me! You’re fine! Do you hear me? The doctor is coming, you’re fine,” J mumbles, aware your situation is critical.

“J…” you faintly whisper and slowly lift your hand. He immediately takes it and almost loses his grip: so slippery from all the blood. Frost bites his lips, bracing for the imminent storm: he knows you’re behind help at this point.

“You can’t leave me, do you hear me? You’re not allowed to!” he screams and you choke in your own blood, squeezing his hand with all the strength you have left.

“J…” you manage to utter when the cough stops. The new towels are already drenched, but The Joker doesn’t ask for new ones anymore.

“Don’t leave me…” he presses his forehead against yours, hoping for a miracle he knows it won’t come. “Promise you’re not leaving me…” he begs, hopeless for once.

I…w-won’t…I…s-swear…I swear…” you chew on your words, unable to focus. You take one more deep breath, then exhale, your eyelids closing, still trying to look at him.

The Joker gasps, then turns towards Frost with madness in his eyes, slowly descending in the abyss he’s powerless to keep at bay:

“Get out!!!! Turn off the lights and get out!!!!”

Jonny takes a few steps back without saying anything, shocked on how the night’s events turned out to be: you were just on a heist when the cops arrived sooner than expected and got caught in the crossfire while following your boyfriend towards the exit. A simple mission that turned into an unexpected catastrophe.

The lights are turned off, only the dim light from the lamp by the table you’re on illuminates the darkness inside the warehouse. J wipes his face with his hands, not realizing he’s smearing even more blood all over; his shrieking breath is the only sound echoing in the huge chamber. He takes off his purple coat, stained with your blood and covers you with it, squishing himself on the table by you.

“You…you promised…you fucking promised, Princess…” he keeps on repeating over and over, holding your lifeless body in his arms. Any sense of closeness and intimacy that was so hard for him to achieve is gone forever; it’s the only things J comprehends for the moment.

He stays by you all night, incapable to move or to think. Nothing but numbness and pain.

When the morning comes, Frost sneaks in to find his boss on the floor, holding on to his purple coat.

“Mister J…” Jonny makes his presence known since The Joker seems to be in a trance.

“Take her away…” he growls, resting his head on his knees.

“Where should we bury her, sir?” Frost tests the water, not knowing what to expect.

“I don’t care…I don’t want to know…”

Jonny wraps you up in a sheet and begins walking towards the exit.

“Wait!” J stops him and rushes over, taking out one of his diamond earrings and pins it to your shirt. “These…these are her favorites…a gift from my girl… This way she’ll have one and I’ll have the other…GO!!” he pushes Frost away, not wanting to prolong the agony.

Once the heavy door closes behind Jonny, J collapses on his knees, exhausted.

“You fucking promised, Princess…”

******************

Week after week passes by and he can’t let go. Trapped inside the penthouse, J doesn’t want to speak or see anybody. How those voices torment him now that there is no more you to distract from the chaos! All his demons bite and scratch, prying on his mind, making him descend into insanity even more with each passing day.

Sometimes he falls asleep but he can never rest: the nightmares wake him up and the demons take over: evil, despicable whispers that only he can hear.

But you can hear them also: bound by his grief and your dying promise, you are still here; you never left. You wish you could comfort him somehow, you wish you could find a way to let him know his girl is still by his side. You tried and tried and so far no luck. 

Tonight is very bad; he is so restless he didn’t sleep in 2 days. The purple coat soiled with you dried blood is always on your side of the bed because The Joker likes to pretend you’re there. What worries you the most is the loaded gun he won’t put down, not even for a second. You know he is thinking about it, he’s been contemplating it for a while; you can hear his thoughts but he can’t hear you: he can’t distinguish your voice from all the others in his troubled mind.

He puts the pistol to his temple, then puts it back down, fighting with himself. You are so desperate you shout as loud as you can: “SHUUUT… UUUUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Silence. Unexpected silence. No more voices and it makes him jump, realizing the much needed quietness.

“Don’t do it!” he only hears one familiar voice resonating in his mind, loud and clear. J look right and left, stunned. “Don’t do it, it’s me! I’m here!”

He gets on his knees, sniffling, not understanding what is happening.

“Baby, it’s me! I’m here!”

“…Pumpkin?” he asks, convinced he finally completely lost it. No answer. “Shit…” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I’m so tired…” and he collapses on the pillow and drops the gun on the floor, convinced he’s hallucinating.

“Go to sleep…rest…” the soothing voice urges; it feels so good for some reason. His body relaxes and The Joker falls into a deep daze, much needed after all that happened.

Now that you finally made him susceptible to your presence, you are determined to continue until he is fully aware you are still with him.

****************

The next day, J wants to actually visit one of the clubs after his self-inflicted seclusion. He slept for hours; uninterrupted relaxation and for the first time in months, The Joker is out and about. He still desires solitude so he doesn’t want anybody else with him in the VIP room. One of the waitresses comes in with his drink, intensely glaring at him. She places the glass full of whiskey on the small table by his couch; he doesn’t even bother to look her way.

The woman unexpectedly straddles his lap and J pushes her away, displeased, contemplating blowing her brains out:

“What the hell?! Get lost! I didn’t allow you to touch me, did I?!”

The woman disregards the warning and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him tight:
“It’s me, baby, I’m here,” she mutters in his ear, caressing the green hair.

J’s heart starts beating out of his chest; he doesn’t know why but doesn’t argue when she takes his arms and places them around her waist.

“I never left you, I’m still here…” she continues and begins sobbing on his shoulder.

“…Princess?” The Joker groans, sensing the pain of a thousand daggers in his chest. The woman doesn’t look or sounds like his dead girlfriend, but it feels and smells like her: that sweet, fruity perfume he loved so much.

“I don’t know how long I can stay in this body…” and she cries harder when his fingers dig in her back, suffocating her with his embrace, “… but I wanted you to know I kept my promise…I’ll never leave you… When you go outside, look at your shadow and you’ll have your proof…”

The woman suddenly loses consciousness and lets go, her body limp on his knees.

J just sits there, barely controlling the emotions he can’t even grasp.

After about 10 minutes, he calls out to Jonny:

“ Frost!”

“Yes, sir?” he parts the colorful beads and steps inside.

“Take her out of here!” The Joker hands over the woman and Frost thinks that his boss probably knocked her out for some reason or another. Not that he needs a reason anyway.

After Frost departs, J gets up and storms out to the south wing of the club where there is a small terrace on the top floor reserved only for him. Since it’s summertime, there is still daylight at 9pm. He walks on the patio, carefully watching the wooden deck for his shadow. He holds his breath when he realizes what he’s looking at: aside from his shadow, there is another one next to his body. It could be that is a strange reflection due to the sunset, but it definitely has a different shape and every time he moves, the other shadow changes position in a weird manner.

“Holy…” he covers his mouth, petrified, backing out a bit. “Baby Doll…is…is…that you…?” he stutters, intrigued and his eyes get big when the other shadow tils its head to the left in agreement.

“Oh…my…God…” The Joker gets on his knees, touching your figure. “You’re really here? I’m…I’m not seeing things?”

The other shadow leans its head to the right and the Joker has tears streaming down his face, not being able to control himself.

“Pumpkin…Daddy missed you…”

******************

The lightning storm started after J retreated back to the penthouse. He turned off all the lights and opened the windows and the glass door leading to the balcony. It was your favorite thing to watch with him: the stormy skies and bolts brightening the menacing clouds, followed by the deafening sound of thunder.

The Joker takes a sit on the floor, admiring the show, when he accidentally glimpses at the full size mirror that you kept on the front corner of the living room. It’s till there and he freezes when he notices the detail: every time the lightning strikes and the brightness fills out the chamber, your ethereal, translucent being is cuddled by him, resting its head on his shoulder and holding on to his arm. Just like a light that gets switched on and off, it keeps on appearing in the mirror and even if you’re transparent , J can tell, without a doubt, that it is indeed, you. He can sense it with every fiber of his soul and he can again smell your perfume.

When he turns his head to look to his left where you’re supposed to be, nothing there but thin air; he can only see you in the mirror.

Something drops from the ceiling in front of him, a small, shiny object that he pics up and the lightning reveals what he gave up a while ago: one of his two diamond earrings you were buried with.

The Joker widely smiles, placing the missing treasure back in his ear, talking to your image in the mirror:

“Aahhh, together at last, Princess. Now I have both of them again.”


Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

anonymous asked:

Hi! Do you think you could do a second part to where the reader is a new recruit?? Like my heart can't take it !! Thanks cutie💖

((A/N - well thank YOU, cutie.))

“That was intense.”

You were currently sprawled out on the floor in the training room, waiting for the rest of the recruits to leave before you attempted to stand up. You nodded, your response muffled from your head being buried in a towel that was trying to soak up all of your sweat. Your legs were jelly and your arms burned. You had no energy to speak, let alone trying to get back to your room. Your friend whipped the towel off, your eyes squinting trying to adjust to the light.

“Drink.”

You opened your mouth, your friend dribbling in water from their bottle. You choked slightly, trying not to laugh at your situation.

“Get up, (Y/N).”

You held your hand up, it being gripped by Gabriel for him to hoist you up. Your legs failed you, and you would have fallen back onto the lino covered floor had he not caught you in his arms. Your cheeks tinged pink as you felt the vibrations of his chuckle from his toned chest. Sweat was leaking through his tight fitting vest top, only imagining what it looked like underneath.

“You seem a bit.. broken.”

You glared up at your commander.

“Absolutely not, it was just-”
“Intense?”

You rolled your eyes, regaining your balance. You steadied yourself by placing a hand against his now folded arms, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Take them back to their room, please. I don’t think they can walk without support.” Gabriel chuckled to your friend.

They hooked an arm around your waist, your arm being flung over their shoulder.

“Same time tomorrow, cariño.” He winked at you.

You frowned at the pet name. What did it mean?

The walk back to your shared room was a struggle. You flumped yourself onto your bed as soon as you could, your entire body screaming with pain.

“He so likes you.”
“Not allowed favouritism.”
“And? I’d kill to be called Spanish pet names.”
“What about Jack?”
“What about him?”

You turned to face your friend, lying on your side and head propped up with your hand, a shit-eating grin spreading across your face.

“Does he not sweeten you up with pet names?”
Honey, he doesn’t need to. I have him right where I want him.”

Your eyebrows raised, smile spreading. A knock on the door brought you from your conversation. You leant over to check the time on your phone while your friend opened the door.

“Is (Y/N) here?”
“Where else would they be, sir?” Amusement laced their voice, giving you time to sit up on the bed to try and see who it was. The door widened and you tried to stand when you saw the swish of royal blue.

“Sir. I-”
“Please sit, (Y/N). Gabriel told me about your training session and was a tad concerned. Do you need to see Angela?”
“No, thank you, Strike-Commander Morrison. I’m not used to the training but it will come in due course.”
 
Jack nodded, his baby-blues flitting over to your friend. A smile twitched on his lips and the rosiness on his cheeks became more defined.

“Very well. That is all.”

He gracefully left your shared room, your friend quietly clicking the door closed.

“He only came here to see you.” You raised an eyebrow.
“I know. He gave me a note.”
“A note? Let me see.”
Absolutely not.”

You pursed your lips your hands behind you leaning on the bed, closely watching their face as they read the note.

“Oh.. my God.”

You leant forwards and made grabby hands towards them. Their eyes widened, the back of their hand dramatically coming up to their forehead.

“He wants.. to.. meet for lunch.”

You burst out into laughter.

“I thought it would have been a love letter or a poem. Is that all it says?”
 
They handed you the note and your eyes skimmed over the scrawl.

Tomorrow. 1300. Café on Broad Street. J x

“Wow. Blunt.”

You handed the note back, throwing your legs up onto the bed and throwing your arm over your eyes.

“He’s romantic.”
“Tch. Whatever you say, love. Wake me up before dinner?”
“Yeah alright, lazy.”

You were shaken awake by hands on your shoulders, eyes snapping open.

“You weren’t waking up.”
“Well I’m awake now.”
“Gabriel wants you.”
“That’s a bit forward.”
“He’s at the door, idiot.”

You scrambled to sit up, combing your fingers through your hair in a vain attempt to look presentable. You managed to stumble over to the door, hanging on the handle so your overworked legs wouldn’t collapse. You took in a deep breath and pulled the door open.

He was leaning on the frame, arms folded and inspecting his fingernails. He was still wearing that damn fitted tank top, clinging to his chiselled chest. Sweat glistened on his defined arms and his dark locks hidden by the woollen beanie.

“Ah. (Y/N).” He lifted his head, eyes narrowed and a smirk dancing across his lips.
“Sir.” You nodded.
“I have a proposition.”

Your brows furrowed, pulling the door to slightly so your friend wouldn’t overhear.

“How would you feel about joining Blackwatch?”

You physically faultered, shock clearly expressed on your face. He chuckled.

“Why- er. Why me?”
“I need someone on my team and I think you would fit nicely. Hardworking. Always pushing yourself to your limits.”

His gazed intensely at you, unrelenting.

“I erm-”
“Think about it. In the meantime, clean up. You’re joining me in my office at 1900 hours.”
“But that’s when din-”
“Dinner starts? Yeah. I know.”

He winked and confidently turned back down the hall towards the main area of the building. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Dinner. With Gabriel. The commander of Blackwatch. Not wanting to one-up your friend, you told them you weren’t feeling well and went to go have a shower. You hoped the scalding water would clear the mist from your thoughts and relieve the aches in your over-used muscles. Once washed, you span the knob round to shut off the water and grabbed a fluffy towel. Patting your face dry you caught your eyes in the mirror. There was a sparkle there you has never noticed before, the corners of your lips turned up in a slight smile.

“(Y/N), I’m heading out to the hall. Do you want anything?”
“No thanks. See you later!”

When you heard the apartment room door close behind your friend, you set out about finding something reasonable to wear. You couldn’t go wrong with black jeans and a ‘nice top’. You span your body in the mirror, deeming your outfit presentable enough. Looking at your watch, you still had five minutes to make it to Gabriel’s office.

You checked both ways down the hallway to make sure it was clear before shutting the door behind you. It clicked shut, the noise echoing. You half jogged towards the offices, trying to untangle your hair with your fingers. You caught your reflection in a passing window, slightly surprised by how decent you actually looked.

You rapped your knuckles on the door to the commander’s office, taming your heavy breathing and pulling down the hem of your top.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, not entering when you saw two other figures standing in front of Gabe’s desk.

“There’s a draft. Please close the door.”

You stepped in and gingerly shut it, standing hesitantly by the door. Your hands held the other, fingers fidgeting, worried you’d walked into something you shouldn’t have.

“(Y/N). This is Jesse-” he nodded to the figure on your left. “And this is Genji.” He motioned towards the other. The two turned around, acknowledging you with a nod before turning back to face Gabriel.

“Come forward.”

Your feet moved of their own accord, reluctantly shuffling across the carpet until you were inbetween the two people infront of Gabriel’s desk.

“You lot are my elite team. Look after each other.”

You frowned. You hadn’t accept his proposition. The two nodded scarily in sync, before the one on the left piped up.

“Ain’t they a bit young?”
“No. They are perfectly skilled. Not that you could talk anyway, McCree. How old are you again?”

The last sentence was spoken with patronising malice from the man in front of you.

“You two are dismissed. (Y/N), stay.”

Your hands came up to hug the opposite elbow, your fingers twitching nervously. You heard shuffles of feet before a click- and then silence. Gabriel gestured for you to sit in the chair opposite him.

“Thank you for accepting.”
“I haven’t-”
“You came along when I said to. You listened to my orders.
"Yeah, because what I thought was free food has now turned into me somehow joining the black ops division of Overwatch.”
“You haven’t said no.”

Gabriel leaned forwards in his chair, hands clasped together and resting on desk. Your mouth opened, and then closed. He was right; you hadn’t said no.

“I want you close, (Y/N). You have potential and with a bit of sculpting you’ll be more than ready to become a fully-fledged Blackwatch agent. We need someone like you on our team. I need you.”

You adjusted your position in the chair at his words. Did he just admit that he liked you?

“I’ll get your uniform set up and ready for training in next week. In the mean time, keep quiet about it until we can announce it properly.”

You nodded.

“Use your words, cariño.”
“Yes, sir.”

A smirk appeared on his lips. He opened his mouth to retaliate before there was a knock on the door and it opened wide. Two silver trays covered with domes were carried by one of the kitchen staff and gently placed down on Gabriel’s desk. He nodded in thanks and waited until the porter had left and shut the door before talking.

“I look after my agents, (Y/N). I’d be surprised if you still wanted to stay as an Overwatch agent after this.”

He removed the dome on the tray closest to you to reveal a plate with a mouth-watering steak, juicy steamed vegetables and the softest mashed potato you had ever seen. You looked up at him, eyes narrowed. He wasn’t exactly being subtle with his bribes. You reached your hand towards the tray, only for him to brind the lid down suddenly and for you to retreat.

“You’ll join?”

Your eyes met his cinnamon gaze.

“I would be surprised if I stayed as an Overwatch agent after this.”

His chuckled rumbled throughout the room as he pushed the tray of food towards you.

This should be very interesting.

Just a Dream

Summary: This can’t be your Castiel. It just can’t be. Your Castiel loves you. He’d never hurt you. This isn’t real, right?

A/N: Reminder since my tag lists are open back up: Please send an ASK or a MESSAGE if you want to be added. I do not always see comments and reblogs.

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: Non-con (rape), Torture, Language…I think that’s it

Word Count: 2k

-Feedback is always appreciated!

Originally posted by subcas

You screamed in pain as the whip Castiel was holding snapped across your bare stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

P-p-please.” you begged him with every ounce of energy you had as your body trembled from the amount of pain you were in.

You’d been hit, whipped, sliced, and beaten for hours; with your wrists bound above your head. This wasn’t your Castiel, this wasn’t your angel. You thought that he loved you, yet here you were, being tortured.

“Please, what?” he growled, “Please, stop? Please, more? Oh..I’ll give you more.”

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“Home” a Spencer Reid Imagine

It was never easy when someone said the word ‘home’ because growing up, you never really knew what yours was, you simply tried to escape from the harsh reality of what you had in front of you. You never understood why people did what they did to you, no matter how skilled you had become as a profiler, there was no excuse for the vile words and actions you had to deal with through every day of your high school years. And now, you were forced to relive them.

An unsub was abducting and killing teenage girls in your hometown, so the team’s focus was shifted to your old school, unfortunately, which meant you would have to go back to the place you hated the most and it scared you beyond belief. Not because people were being taken from said school, but because you knew all those memories would flood back into your mind, sending you down a spiral of no control. You didn’t want to show such weakness.

“High school must have been great for a pretty girl like you, right (Y/N)?” Morgan teased as you, him and Reid stepped out of the car and entered the building, your eyes scanning every square inch you knew by heart. Pursing your lips together and nodding slowly, you simply gave the older man a smile and left it alone, there was no point lying to profilers was there?

Reid frowned at your silent response as he always did when held back from your usual, cheery self. You were sure he would bring it up later when you were alone but you pushed that thought away as you led the two to the teacher’s lounge, to Hotch’s orders. You weren’t too excited about talking to your old teachers either, they hadn’t been the best at making you feel better in the midst of a sea of kids who threw insults at you every single day. They just didn’t care.

You greeted some of them and immediately jumped into the questions you had to ask about the case in hands, dismissing any personal inquiries sent your way and keeping your professionalism to the max.

“Poor thing, having to be here and remember all that happened years later.” one of the teachers whispered next to Reid as they stood across the room watching you talk with your old science teacher.

“What do you mean?” the genius questioned, still watching you attentively as if looking away would mean he would lose your for good. He knew something was off the minute the case had been presented to them.

“(Y/N) used to be incredibly bullied back in her high school days, it was terrible. I don’t know how she handled it to be honest with you, it was really tough on her. Kids would throw her against lockers, shout profanities at her, exclude her of everything. I can’t believe she came back to a place like this.”

Reid was sure his heart had broken two seconds into the teacher’s enlightenment to his question. From the confidence and joy you exuded the moment you had joined the team, no one would have ever guessed that you had such a hard time getting through your teenage years. Reid couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that anyone would ever want to cause you any harm, both physically and mentally, it angered him that you had to go through that alone and even more, that you had to relive it all.

After gathering the information you needed and leaving the room, the familiar sound of the bell made every memory flash back into your mind, and the rush of students filing out of their classrooms was too much for you. You rushed into the nearest room, it coincidentally being the janitor’s closet you found yourself hiding at so many times before, and tried to steady your breathing.

Leaning back against the wall, you took in as deep of a breath that your lungs would allow and grit your teeth against the scream that threatened to escape. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you felt your entire body tense. The touch of a hand on her face had your battered self opening your eyes to find Reid crouched next to you with a look of intense concern on his face.

“Breathe in and breathe out, focus on that please.” his voice was gentle, above a whisper, and he carefully skimmed a hand up and down your back. Slowly but surely, you submitted to the touch and rested your cheek against his chest. You took slow, tiny breaths and kept your eyes closed until your lungs opened up and your body started to relax. Swallowing hard, you let out the sob that you’d tried so hard to suppress, and whimpered at the brush of lips against your temple.

“It’s alright now,” he tells you, curling his fingers around one of your hands. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, using your free hand to wipe at your eyes. “Jesus Christ, I tried to hold it in. I think it’s leftovers from being in this place. It was so awful, Spence. I’m sorry.” you said again. And again. And again.

“It’s okay.” Reid countered, reaching down to wipe the tears that fell from your eyes, caressing your cheek. “It’s all over now (Y/N), no one is ever going to treat you like that anymore, I swear on my life.”

His thumbs traced circles on your skin. He held on firm, but with care. You could feel the pressure again, the world was slowing down. You wanted the courage to look at him, he was so patient, but you were embarrassed. This wasn’t who you were. Reid held you closer to him, giving you the warmth you had lost in the breakdown.

“I’m….supposed to be the one out there. I need to hold up for people, if not for myself. I need to get over this.”

“High school was hard for me too.” Reid said after a pause. “Being the smartest kid, an actual kid amongst teenagers, wasn’t easy for me. I felt lonely and shut out of everything, but I knew it was because I was special, I was different. Whoever made you suffer couldn’t handle how special you were and still are.”

You stayed still in his arms and kept your silence, simply basking in the warmth and safety of his embrace and clearing your head from previous thoughts. When you let go of him, he looks into your eyes to see how you’re doing, but he can’t exactly decipher what you seem to be feeling.

“That was pretty pathetic wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” he replies instantly.

“Right.” you smile with only side of his mouth, a sad sort of smile, “I know it might not seem this way, but with you, I feel safe Spencer. I just… it’s not that easy to forget what has happened before.”

“I know. You don’t have to forget, you just have to know you are safe and loved.” Reid blushes when he says that, but he tries to keeps his eyes on you, he wants you to know how much he means it.

“Just tell me what I can do to make you feel better, (Y/N).”

**

You end up on Reid’s bed, hiding under soft sheets, him hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder. His legs are on top on yours, holding you there, trying to cover all of you as best as he can.

“I felt this… ball of fire. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s hot in the middle of my chest, and…”

“It feels like it’s burning you and breaking you apart, and you need something to hold you together?”

“Yeah.” you put your hand of tops of Reid’s, where they rest on top of his stomach. “But right now, I feel like you’re holding my pieces in place. Like I made it to a safe port…. a safe haven.”

Reid tightens his grip on you and kisses the top of your head sweetly. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Originally posted by toyboxboy

Jason Todd x Reader (Brotherly Relationship) - Are You Insane Like Me? Been in Pain Like Me?

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood, Alcohol, Drugs, Abuse



Requested by: @cattopolis

Song: Gasoline, Halsey

Word Count: 3,510


Falling against the hard and cracked wall, exhausted, broken, and in terrible pain, you attempted to somewhat compose yourself. You did not want to think about what had just happened, and be as it may that it happened almost every night, it wasn’t any more pleasant after time. You were all alone, as per usual, considering your father was passed out, and your mother had left when you were 3, and she was the only person that cared about you. 

You were now 17, and had grown up in hell ever since, but you tried as hard as humanly possible not to see it that way. Your father was a terrible alcoholic and drugie, and you had to feed his addiction or he would beat you to a pulp. You did what any person on the streets would do at the age of 17 for money, and you weren’t proud of it. You stole and sold anything within your sight, and it added up pretty quickly. Your dad had taught you how, this was the only thing he ever taught you before his descent into drugs and vodka, and you were damn good at it.

You had been doing this since you were 5, it was all you knew, and he would take all the money and put it to drinks and the newest substance floating around the dark and grim city, inviting his shitty friends over for parties, and you would have to clean everything up. He also used you as a test experiment for his drugs, a lab rat should you say, but you had no way to fight him against it, so you took is with cries and pleads, praying to live another day, and that it just might get better.

Tonight, it had been one after one, he would inject them into you, and you would take it because you thought, maybe one day, he’ll stop. Maybe one day, he’ll get better. Whenever there was a party, you would be strapped to a table in a tank top and shorts, and needles would be thrown your way left and right. Tonight was no different.

You were the entertainment, writhing and screaming as the vile liquids burned and clawed through your veins. You cried and pleaded for it to stop, but if you spoke a word, you were hit, so you stopped fighting, stopped asking. The only noise that was allowed from you were your screams, and god did your father’s terrible friends love to hear you scream. 

They cheered and chanted, watching you struggle to breathe and stay complacent, throwing whatever new or old drug they discovered at your father and his few closest friends so they could inject the poison into your flailing body, paying hundreds to watch you struggle in immense pain, and it was terrifying. You never knew when it would end, it all was a daze, painful and loud, but eventually, it all stopped and you were left as the broken girl they all loved to watch suffer, struggling to stay alive.

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Trying Something New

Drabble request from anonymous

Robb Stark x Reader

11. “Good, I like it rough.”
12. “What? Are you going to make me?”
19. “Quiet! They’re going to hear you!”

Want to request something? See the drabble list here!

Warnings: rough sex

Words: 970ish

You were determined to break him. He had been trying to turn you on all day and you were staying strong and resilient. He was almost getting angry at how hard it was to turn you on today. The two of you had made a bet that whoever was the first to crack was the other person’s servant for a month.

“You know, Robb. If you keep failing to satisfy me I might just have to find another man” you smiled to yourself with your back to your boyfriend because you knew that would piss him off.

“What did you just say?” he all but growled at you, immediately at your back. You could feel the anger bubbling off of him, yet you pushed him further.

You spun around quickly, meeting him with your faces nearly touching and with a devilish smirk on your face you said,

“I said, if you can’t turn me on by trying this hard, I might have to find a man that can.”

You repeating yourself did it.

Your back slammed into the giant armoire as Robb’s one hand was at your throat, the other pinning your shoulder to the large, wooden piece of furniture, and his chest was heaving with rage.

“You say anything like that to me again woman, and I won’t be as gentle as I normally am” he was growling now, his pupils blown wide with anger as his bright eyes bored holes in your soul.

Good. I like it rough.” you spat out. Smirking at him yet again. You were finally getting what you wanted. This animalistic and almost terrifying side of Robb was something you saw only once and you’d be lying if it didn’t make you soaked. You needed to see it again. You needed to feel it. You just had to be on the receiving end of that rough, primal side of him.

“Shut up!” he yelled, punching the thick wood next to your head and quickly turning away from you. He threw his hands to his side and pacing back and forth, his boots slamming loudly across the stone floor.

“What? Are you going to make me?” you almost screamed, making Robb whip his head toward you with his mouth hung open in shock.

“Y/N… Do-do you want me to be rough with you? Is that why you’re starting a fight with me?” he asked, approaching you looking almost cautious.

You let out a heavy sigh and flopped back onto your bed.

“Yes, Robb. I want you to be rough with me. I want you to choke me and grab me and be aggressive. I want you to mark me. Show people I’m yours. Be territorial of me” you let your arms cover your face, afraid of what he was going to say to your kinky confession. You felt the bed dip next to you and felt Robb’s lips on your shoulder planting small, sweet kisses as he moved toward your neck. You let your arms fall to your side and when Robb’s mouth got to your neck he bit down. Hard.

“Robb!” it was partly a yell, but mostly a moan.

“Shh baby, I got you” he whispered as his tongue quickly soothed over where he bit you.

His mouth worked on one side of your neck as his hand came up to grip it. He pulled back and looked you in the eyes and you nodded, silently giving him permission as his fingertips stretched around your throat. He squeezed lightly, he pressure increasing as he saw just how much you liked it. You were so distracted from the delicious pressure of his hand at your throat that you failed to notice his hand creeping up your thigh until you moaned when two of his fingers entered you. You could see the wide smile on his face at the sounds you were making and could feel his growing erection against your leg.

“Robb” you squeaked out, his hand still at your throat, “Need you.”

He smiled even wider and giggled a little when you pulled him on top of you between your legs. After a moment of fumbling with his trousers, his tip was teasing your entrance, causing you to throw your head back in anticipation.

He entered you slowly, enjoying the feeling of filling you up, inch by inch. Once he was seated inside you, he started to move at a slow, yet steady, pace. As his pace quickened, he let his hand find your throat again, squeezing harder as the both of you plummeted towards your orgasms.

“Fuck Robb!” you yelled, one hand raking nails down his back and the other gripping his bicep.

Quiet! They’re going to hear you!” he whispered, referring to his family and two other houses that were having a meeting in the next room over.

He clamped his hand over your mouth while leaning on his elbow, allowing you to still breathe out of your nose. You screamed into his other hand as his thumb was rubbing tight circles on your clit as he continued to slam into you. Gods did this man know how to fuck hard when it came down to it. Your orgasm slammed into you so hard your vision faltered a little and your legs started shaking heavily. Robb grinned as he met his release shortly after you, his eyes rolling back and your name coming out of his mouth in a sinful moan.

He rolled off of you, both of you breathing heavy.

“Let’s do that again. I like being aggressive with you” he smiled and closed his eyes as he nuzzled his face into your neck, allowing your limbs to become entangled.

“Good. I like it rough” you giggled as you repeated your earlier words and you felt your boyfriend laugh into your neck and kiss you sweetly on your pulse point.

A New Moon (Part 1)

Originally posted by epikcry


Part 1

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Werewolf!AU

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

***WARNING: Violence, fantasy, language, pregnancy***


Anonymous asked:

(1) Hellooooo, I have an ideia for werewolf jimin! Maybe something with a y/n pregnant, fluff and a little bit of angst too. Oh and sorry for the bad english.

(2) Is it bad that I want to see Werewolf BTS get in a crazy battle against a group of rogues because of the OC? Haha

(3) Omg the werewolf stories are freaking amazing! Admin J would there be a story about a New Moon or a Solar Eclipse?? Thank you guys for all your stories~ 


After the blood moon, life was definitely different. The boys were different— wiser. You were different— stronger. They began to acknowledge you on a different level, equally, not as human to werewolf rather as being to being. But as you sat upon the piercingly cold tile of your bathroom floor, the sound of nothing but your frozen heart’s beats hammering through the air of your vacant apartment, you felt anything but strong. Trembling as you desperately tried to grip onto the object in your hands that you wished no more than to throw it out of the window, to forget its existence and have it erased entirely from your life, there was no strength to do so. Confusion. Fear. Happiness. All of these intense feelings shoved you around, screamed in your ears, not allowing you to think because fuck, how is this even possible.

How could you be pregnant with Park Jimin’s, your werewolf boyfriend’s, child?

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Love Knows No Bounds (pt. 4) [Edmund Pevensie]

Summary: The reader and Edmund have been friends for most of their time together in Narnia. They realize their true feelings for each other at the worst moment; just when they both leave for Earth. It doesn’t help that they live literally half a world apart.

Word Count: 1,855

Note: I am so sorry for the wait! This is the fourth part of Love Knows No Bounds, a collaboration between myself and the wonderful @peterpevensje. Enjoy!

Warnings: Slavery/slave trading, some fighting.

Previously: The same smile was worn on your face and it was at that moment Edmund realized that he didn’t think your smile was the most beautiful thing he had even seen.

He knew that your smile was the most beautiful thing he had even seen.


Edmund was here. Here! Standing right in front of you, sopping wet clothes clinging to his frame, showing you that he had grown physically in the year on Earth.

It was then that you realized you were staring.

Edmund raised an eyebrow at you, smirking. You laughed quietly to yourself, knowing that despite Edmund’s seemingly unfazed expression, he was shocked and excited to see you there.

You stepped forwards, about to hug him, when Caspian pushed past you. Three fluffy towels were in his arms.

Oh. Right.

It was breezy at sea, so Edmund, Lucy, and his whining companion probably felt cold.

And you knew just the thing to warm them up.

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Song Mino #62 “I hate you” REQUEST

“Thanks man” Mino said putting the last box on the floor.

It was the perfect place for him, near the school, not expensive at all, and, the most important thing, spacious and nice.

“I will make you pay me later, don’t worry” he said smiling at his friend.

They have been friends for the longest, those kind of friends that seems more like family.

They started to look around after the both of them recovered their breath. “This is really nice…” he says, sitting at the couch and putting his feet over the small table in front of him “…I still can’t believe you got it this cheap”

“I know, when he told me how much it was I started to laugh” Mino said sitting beside his friend.

And then, as a cruel joke of destiny, they heard the door opening and a beautiful girl was coming inside, pulling two suitcases in each hand, and with a backpack on her back. 

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Fall Into Me

Castiel x Reader 

Word Count: 816 

Warnings: more fluffy smut. Woot woot.

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Losing Sleep” by Chris Young. Apparently I can’t write anything but smut lately, so here is the next wave of the Smut Storm. Italic lines are lyrics. Enjoy.

Wayward Moeyy’s Master List

(Not my GIF)

You spun around in the hall as you heard a strange noise coming from your bedroom. Who the hell could be in there? Dean and Sam were out celebrating another successful hunt, and you were back at the bunker, celebrating in your own way… in silence.

You heard your stereo speakers squeal, then the beat of music playing as you opened the door. You peered into the room, scanning for the source of the ruckus. Castiel stood beside your bed, furrowing his brow at the contraption before he got it working. He turned to you in surprise. His lush lips curled into a devilish smile as he studied your lazily dressed form.

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I Dare You (A Jefferson Smut)

by @dontstopwiththelyin aka Becks

Summary: Plot? What plot? I thought you said porn…

Warnings: Daddy!kink, little bit of spanking, little bit of choking, orgasm denial, light bondage, dirty talk, oral (giving and receiving), squirting, language (BAHAHAHAHAHA If everything else doesn’t turn you away I don’t think language will but anyway…) I think that’s everything? IDK my brain is slightly malfunctioning from…editing…yeah…that’s why I read it again…

Originally posted by wellfuckyoutooworld

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anonymous asked:

Can i ask for an imagines for Gladio? A break up scene placed on the train during Gladio and Noct fight. Gladio is angry even because his partner has started to defends Noctis since Altissia, and he is jealous. He said some pretty terrible things and after seeing the way he pushed Prompto, his s/o decide to put an ends of they relationship (because since Altissia Gladio is changed).

Blessed be the angst. I hope this good, anon. I honestly love writing angst. Toward Gladiolus specifically? I have an issue I guess ahahaha. The train scene pissed me off to no end, truth be told. Soooo this was fun to write. 

I added in a low key mention of abuse. I hope that’s okay. I just wanted to depict the severity of Gladiolus’s temper. 

I hope you enjoyyyyy.

Tagging some friends: @stephicness, @stunninglyignis, @themissimmortal, @cupnoodle-queen, @nifwrites, @nifwrites, @viscaelus, @the-lucian-archives​ 

“Don’t do this!” Prompto shot upward from his seat in order to pry the Prince and his Shield apart from their sudden clash. Without thinking, Gladio took the hand that wasn’t bunched in Noctis’s shirt collar and pressed it to Prompto’s forehead, forcing him to the ground.

The pit in your stomach only dug deeper as you watched the scene before you. Gladiolus was out of control. His temper had finally taken complete control of his demeanor.

There was once a time you could stare are your boyfriend without a rush of rage and reluctance running through you. It brought pain to your heart knowing such days were only a short week ago.

Damn Altissia, you thought.

Your mind stopped itself.

Altissia wasn’t the start of his temper. 

His temper has been present even at the beginning of your long term relationship.

He hardly turned his temper to you. Sure, every so often you would find yourself in intense fights of only verbal exchange, but Gladio would never lay a harmful hand on you.

… so you thought.

The Starscourge brought an enormous… intolerable sense of stresses onto the group of Crownsguard members.

The young King they were sworn to protect laid unconscious in a comatose state for a number of days now. There was no way of telling when he would awaken. Or if he would wake up at all…

The Oracle, Lady Lunafreya, was murdered in cold blood by none other than Ardyn Izunia. The Chancellor of Niflheim the group soon found themselves to trust…
He revealed himself to be no better than the Nif’s that took down Insomnia. He was evil. He had to be stopped.

The citizens of Altissia were forced to evacuate with the help of Noctis’s Crownsguard. Prompto and Gladio completed their part of their mission, returning unscathed. They hardly harbored a single scratch or a bruise.

Ignis however…

Ignis sacrificed his sense of sight in order to save the many innocent lives he was sworn to assist in evacuation. He was blind. Completely handicapped.

While you did not participate in assisting the evacuation, the pain you felt was very real. Your sympathy, your regret, and your guilt consumed you.

You found yourself confiding Gladio while awaiting for the Prince to wake from his unconscious state. Your boyfriend had no sympathy to share for you…

He was angry.

He was angry at Noctis.

He blamed the Prince for everything.

He labeled Noctis as selfish. He complained that all he has done on their journey was wallow in self pity.

You objected is allegations.  

“Gladio. This isn’t his fault. He’s unconscious, for the sake of the Six!”

Of course, this disagreement led to rather intense argument that ended in Gladio grabbing hold of wrist, applying a great amount of pressure to it.

You yelped out in pain, crying out, “LET GO! You’re hurting me!”

With a look of fear in his eyes, he did as you requested, rushing out of the Leville and into the undamaged part of Altissia.

You hadn’t spoken since.

The days remaining in Accordo were only filled with reluctant glances… and pretending Gladio didn’t exist.

Now, however, you couldn’t continue your facade any longer. Not only did he harm you… but he held the Prince in a threatening position while forcing Prompto to the ground.

The outcome of Altissia had effected Gladio greater than first imagined….
Gladiolus Amicitia had changed.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You were done with his new and improved temper.

“Prompto!” You shouted in concern, throwing yourself from your seat beside Ignis to assist the blonde boy.

The train to Tenebrae continued to rush forward, despite the scene your friends and boyfriend put on. The scenery of Eos still rushed past the windows at a great speed.

You placed a gentle hand on Prompto Prompto looked shocked. Terrified. His blue eyes remained fixed on the Prince and his Shield.

“Let go of me!” Noctis seethed.

Your expression tensed, your blood began to boil. Leaving Prompto’s side, you shot up from the ground. “Gladio!” You yelled, slowly inching toward your boyfriend and the prince. “Back off!”

Gladio’s intense amber eyes remained locked on Noctis. “He needs to grow the hell up!” Gladio growled in protest. “He’s the King of Lucis and he’s acting like a child!”

“He’s acting like someone who just lost his fiancé!” You retorted “You haven’t the slightest idea of what he’s going through. He has the the weight of the world on his shoulders!” The volume of your voice increased dramatically allowing you to scream at your boyfriend.

With a growl, Gladio released Noctis’s shirt, pushing him backward. Noctis stumbled for a moment, but stopped himself from tumbling on the floor. You could easily tell Noctis was holding back his fury from his friend.

“I didn’t know you are so eager to defend him,” Gladio muttered bitterly.

Involuntarily, your hands balled into fists. “Shut up! I’m so done with you! I can’t stand your damn temper anymore,” you shrieked out in rage, not caring that the other passengers stopped to watch your argument.

He stared at you blankly. His previous persona of intensified anger soon melted into a stoic expression.

“We’re done, Gladio Amicitia. Done!” You bellowed, feeling your hands tremble with anger.

“Y/N, wait I—” He began to protest. You shook your head fiercly.

“Any man who hurts his friends like this is a monster. I can’t even look at you,” you grumbled, turning your back to the burly man. Exhaling your building frustration, you lowered yourself to your knees. Prompto remained still on the floor, staring at you with wide eyes. You offered a gentle hand out to your friend, finally noticing that they were  trembling.

Prompto nervously took hold of your grip and pulled himself upward.

Gladio stood and stared… unable to process the events that just happened.

What has he turn into?

Anger still dwelled within his stomach. Huffing out at exhale, he turned on his heels, retreating into the train cart located behind them. Without another word, he vanished.

“A-are you okay?” Prompto questioned uneasily.

Noctis pushed past you and Prompto, exhaling a sigh.

“Yeah…” you nodded. “I am now.”

Flying high: epilogue

A/n: here it is, the last part! Thanks to everyone who read/liked/reblogged this and double thanks to those who sent me messages saying that you liked it. Enjoy the happy ending because I’m sleep deprived and feeling merciful to my readers.
********************

You were strapped down on a cold hard table. Blinding white lights pierced your vision and you struggled against your restraints.

People pushed down on your shoulders, trying to keep you pinned. One of them held down your head and moved it to allow access to your neck. You screamed as loud as you could, hoping someone would rescue you.

But it was too late.

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