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johnwickb1tsch · 29 days ago

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A John Wick x Shy!Reader shorty vaguely based on this FRIENDS imagine…

A little something for my beloved @sweetwolfcupcake . P.S. there’s bonus torture at the end 🤭❤❤ No xtra warnings really. Voyeurism? 😅 If you can handle the movies, you can handle this.

At first you don't mean to spy on the man across the street in his apartment…you just happen to notice him. A lot of him, in fact, because he was roaming around his two bedroom flat without a shirt.

That is not why you find yourself looking for him the next night, and the night after that… (Ok, maybe a little.)

He's ridiculously handsome.

So sue you, ok? What's the harm in peeking?

But peeking turns into looking, and looking turns into watching. It’s possible you acquire a little pair of binoculars from a second hand store. Perfect for the casual birdwatcher, or…creeping on your unfairly good-looking neighbor.

You know it's wrong…but there’s just something about him, and you cannot look away.

He seems lonely, and maybe that's something you relate to all too well in this city of 8 million people.

He likes to read.

He drinks amber colored spirits from a cut crystal glass.

Tattoos span the breadth of his wide shoulders; his towels are the slate gray of storm clouds.

Sometimes when he comes home late he moves stiffly, as though he's in pain.

He's so beautiful that a part of you wishes you could keep him like this forever, like a butterfly behind glass.

The first time he waves at you, you are so startled you nearly drop your tea.

You’re smart enough to do your serious creeping with your lights off. But tonight you are just sitting by the window with a book after a long day, taking it all in.

You don't know where you get the courage after a long pause, to lift your hand in return.

Longing weighs upon your chest like a cold stone.

Nothing will ever come of this.

That's what you think, anyway, until two nights later when there is a knock on your door.

II.

You are innately shy, and a certain sense of premonition makes you cross to the door even slower than usual.

When you open it to find him on the other side, tall and handsome as your darkest dreams, with a bottle of wine in his [obscenely] large hands, you shut the door right in his face.

With your heart in your throat, you open it again five seconds later to find him standing exactly as he was, only with a bit of a smirk pulling the corner of his full mouth.

“Hi.”

His voice is a deep, smooth baritone that short circuits something crucial in your brain.

Is it actually possible, for one’s eyes to truly bug out of their head?

“I know this might seem kinda strange…” he plows through the thick silence between you. “But I see you all the time, and I thought…”

As though he's having trouble articulating that thought exactly, he holds up the wine as his visual aid.

You will never know what possessed you, when you step back on shaking legs to invite a perfect stranger into your apartment at midnight in the East Village.

Lucky you, that he doesn't turn out to be a serial killer. (As far as you can tell).

You're cautious about drinking the wine at first, so you stick to your tea while you sit on the couch together and stumble through the initial social introductions.

His name is John. He works in security at a club called the Red Circle. He likes bookbinding, old cars, and the classic works of the Russian literary greats.

By the time he leaves hours later, you’re afraid you’re half in love.

III.

These midnight talks become a thing.

He is on a nocturnal schedule, because of his work, and you get by with less sleep than you need, because you are young, and you’ve come to suspect, somewhat addicted.

Since that first night he insists on turning the conversation to you. How was your day? What is your favorite book? What did you think about that art house film? It is as though hearing it all brings him some indefinable solace to him.

There is an air of tragedy about this man that you sense but fear you cannot touch. The dark shine of his soulful eyes speaks volumes, and though he never complains, you think he has not had an easy life.

Though you have noticed that the two of you sit closer and closer upon the couch as time goes on, he does not try to touch you. He knows you are skittish, perhaps, and your trust is precious to him. The first time his fingers accidentally brush yours you think your soul just might evacuate from your skin.

You begin to think that it’s for the best that nothing seems like it is going to happen, when he asks if you would like to take a daytrip upstate with him.

“Do you have a car?”

His answer is the uptick of one dark sculpted eyebrow that makes you feel simultaneously foolish and cherished. He wants to spend one of his precious days off with you.

It’s not a car though. It’s a beast. The look on your face as the two of you roar off into traffic makes John Wick laugh, a surprised huff of mirth, and you realize that somehow this is the first time you’ve heard it. This man says so much with his eyes, rather than his mouth.

On this trip while speeding down the straightaways and hugging the curves of the wilderness roads, you learn the rhythm of the Mustang’s transmission by holding and letting go of his long-fingered hand.

He takes you to lunch at a lovely Michelin starred restaurant by a lake. You eat and talk and get tangled with his endless legs under the table. The fleeting glitter of happiness in his eyes is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and you will take the triumph of that accomplishment to your grave.

He clocks a milestone too, when he drops you off at your door that evening. When he presses his soft mouth to yours with a hand on your waist, you are so enchanted you do not even flinch.

IV.

In fact, your toes curl in your shoes, and your fingers in the lapels of his smart sports jacket. It is as though you simultaneously want to pull him to you, and hold him at bay.

You are not the only one who has been holding on by a thread. You are so cute and sweet and soft and the way your eyes sparkle while you gently roast his ego on a slowly turning spit…it’s been exquisite torture, keeping his hands off you, but now that he’s got you in his grasp he can't bring himself to let go.

Maybe you're both surprised, when he backs you into your door, the delicious solid line of his body pressed against yours. And does it shock you, when you throw your arms around his neck, finally running your fingers through that luxuriously soft cloud of raven hair?

“I could…open the door?” you suggest breathlessly as his increasingly wicked lips trail down the curve of your neck.

“Good idea,” he grinds out. “It’s illegal to do what I intend to do to you here in the hall.”

This is the thing that gives you pause, and for the first time he is slow to pick up on your cues, love-drunk as he is on the taste of you.

“John…?”

“If…you want me to,” he quickly amends, looking down at you with his hair in his eyes like a man who is drowning just below the surface, this close to a lifesaving breath of air.

Do you want him to?

Usually you are so cautious, so reserved. You've had your heart broken before, and you never intended to give anyone that power again. But for the first time in a long time, you actually trust a man. John Wick has you in his hands, and you know he could break you like a twig, but he’s so careful with you that your skin aches.

“I…want you to,” you answer slowly, and the wonder in his eyes is as precious as it is heartbreaking.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he sighs between kissing you, drinking you down, tasting your mouth like you are the delicate French wine you had with lunch. “You are so precious to me.”

You’re embarrassed to admit that your legs sort of melt out from under you after that. It doesn’t matter though. He is strong, and he holds you with such ardor that he half carries you as he clutches your soft body to his. Looking back, you'll remember that halting walk in flashes. There are pauses for kisses, and pushing jackets from shoulders to forget them on the floor. There is hushed laughter, and joyful fumbling, and his lips pressed to every inch of bared skin you offer him.

You feel like a goddess, in John Wick’s arms.

Worshipped. Adored.

In the temple of your bedroom, you are both deity and acolyte, and for the first time in your life you are eager to get on your knees for a man, just to give him a taste of the ecstasy he drives you to.

John Wick likes kisses.

It’s endearing, maddening, how eager he is to give and receive them. Upon your lips and your shoulders, the soft curves of your breasts and down your belly and between your thighs. It is a whirlwind of sensual delights, and you are naught but an aching vessel hungry to receive it all.

How complete he makes you feel, with his manhood buried inside you. As though this is the only proper place to be, tangled up with him in your soft bed. What were you so afraid of? For the moment, you cannot remember. You can't think much at all, really, just feel, and it feels glorious to be in his arms.

Afterwards you doze. When later you wake and he's not there you’re sad but resigned.

Of course he's gone.

But when you pad out to get a glass of water in your robe you find him at the window, eyeing those little binoculars of yours with an amused smile.

“I…can explain…” you stammer, mortified, the rush of guilt like poisoned lightning in your veins.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he says with a gentleness in his eyes that floors you. “I like to watch you too.”

You wonder how long he’s known? All the times he seemingly paraded around with that mouth watering chest on display…was he showing off for you? Was he baiting you??

You don't have time to ask him, because seconds later his arm is around your waist and his mouth is on yours, and he is sweeping you into his arms– destination: Round 2.

Later while he's holding you in the quiet, savoring this rare sense of peace with your precious head tucked upon his shoulder, his arms wrapped snugly around you, does he begin to wonder…

Just how unattainable, really, would Viggo make the Impossible Task?

He has everything he’s ever truly wanted in his arms, and he’s ready to tell the rest of the world to go to hell.

VI.

The next few months go by like a golden-edged dream. Dinners at fine restaurants. Long walks in Central Park. Sunday brunches and afternoons spent browsing antique stores and bookshops, looking for treasures. You go to shows and art exhibits and sometimes you just meet in the middle of the day for fifteen minutes because you need to see each other.

Magical as it is, your innate skepticism makes you wonder if it’s too good to be true.

As time goes on you start to form a rough sketch of John’s professional duties, but out of willful blindness or your own naivete with such things, never a perfect picture.

You ask if you can come see him at the Red Circle sometime, and he outright forbids it. “Nothing good happens there. It’s no place for a sweet girl like you.”

“Then why do you work there?”

“Because I have to.”

But one day when you are engaging in your playful routine of pantomiming at each other from across the street you see a shadow creeping up behind him. In a panic you wave and point. He regards you with a tilted head, not understanding.

You scream as the intruder makes his move.

Maybe you vaguely knew that John should be able to handle himself, but the scene that unfolds makes your jaw hit the floor. Frozen in shock, you watch as your sweet boyfriend John dodges blows and throws his assailant over his shoulder, twisting his suited opponent’s arm backwards, surely breaking it.

Then you realize there are two more people in John’s apartment, and you find yourself running for the door.

Why don’t you call 911?

Your lungs are burning by the time you soar down your stairwell, cross the street absolutely improperly, winning shouts and honks and the close brush of a side mirror at your back, and scale the steps to the third floor.

As you rush down the hall you realize you have no weapons. And so before you enter John’s apartment you take off your shoe, holding it threateningly at the ready. If you’d allowed yourself to think before any of this you might have been too terrified to open the door, but you are running on supercharged adrenaline and fear for the life of the man you love.

The man you love.

You haven’t actually said that aloud yet, but you realize with an unequivocal certainty in that moment that it’s true.

You expect to walk into the cacophony of a battle in full tilt.

What awaits you is the silence of a graveyard.

John sits on his couch, catching his breath, his hand pressed over a wound on his arm.

Three bodies lay at his feet in various angles.

You don’t need to check pulses to know that they're dead.

You have no words. You just stand and stare dumbly, though you must make some small sound that alerts him of your presence. He leaps to his feet, crossing the room like a panther, gathering you in his arms and ushering you into his bedroom.

Madder yet, you let him.

“Sweetheart…I never wanted you to see this.”

He says it like this is something that happens regularly.

You sink to sit at the foot of his bed, eyes wide as saucers as you look up at him. “Should we…call the police?”

It’s the most sensible thing you can think to say.

“No, baby. No police.”

Something must cross your expression. He sinks to his knees before you, clasping your hands in his. Yet he does not beg or threaten or make excuses. He tries twice before finding his voice, with the glitter of moisture in his eyes he grates out: “I understand, if you never want to see me again.”

The surge of anger inside you wakes you from your stupor more than anything. “Don’t be stupid, John! They tried to hurt you! It was self defense!”

He just looks up at you, and now somehow you know the weight of his silent dark gaze is made up of an unquantifiable amount of dark deeds just like this.

You think back on what he told you earlier about his job with a greater understanding. Because I have to.

Your sweet, wonderful John, is a killer.

What does it say about you, that your feelings for him do not change with this new knowledge?

You reach up to stroke his beard, and he leans into your touch like a lifeline, that obsidian-sharp gaze closed for a moment from the world.

“You shouldn’t be with a monster like me, sweet girl.”

If he’s trying to break up with you…you have no intention of letting him.

“You are not a monster, John.” You kiss him sweetly upon the forehead, and he folds for you, his head falling to rest upon your lap. You stroke his hair like that for you don’t know how long.

He bleeds on you–you do not care.

You stay like that until someone named Charlie comes to clean up the mess. You hear them talking through the door–you stay out of sight in the bedroom. You hear something exchange hands, like the clinking of coins.

“I’m getting out,” he tells you later, when you are wrapped up in his arms in the blue twilight of early morning.

“Is that even possible?” You cannot hide the tremulous note of hope in your tone.

“Nothing’s impossible.”

You can tell by now that there’s something he’s not telling you, but you cling to this small modicum of hope as you finally drift off to sleep.

As you lay tangled together beneath the high-thread count sheets, John Wick holds you tightly and decides then that he will be free…or he will be dead.

It’s the least you deserve, and maybe…he does too.

#torture chamber 😈#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x shy reader #keanu reeves #keanuverse #john wick friends au

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npookie0 · 3 months ago

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Hi hi!! I was wondering if you could write headcanons of a reader who is really afraid of loud noises with all the Li sorry if its too much!

A World Too Loud.

Killer Chat x reader afraid of loud noises, headcanons, comfort and fluff

Cws: spoilers for KC (possibly)

Ronin - Your Devil

Ronin wasn't the quietest person in the world, heck he liked his victims screaming in agony, music blasting. He worked as a mechanic, a job not known for being silent. But with you? He could tone it down, turn down the music enough for it to be bearable for you, make sure to kill his victims silently when you're with him.

He's carrying your ear plugs and sound blocking headphones for you, prepared for a situation that would require you to have them on.

If you're going through a panic attack caused by the noises he'll try his best to help you calm down, take you to a quiet room, whisper in your ear, caress your hand, little things to take your attention away from the problem.

"'s too loud ain't it? The world. Don't worry baby, I've gotcha." He says when the two of you are alone, on a walk during the night, when the world is asleep and silent.

Maria - Bloody Angel

She puts extra care into arranging silent moments for the two of you, dates in places that not even the paparazzi would follow you two, moments of comforting quiet time at home, just laying in bed and hugging, no need for any noise to be with you.

Angel's voice is usually hushed and soft, it alone helps you calm down, be less afraid of the heaviness of how loud the world could be.

If she sees your fear when the two of you are on a photoshoot or just surrounded by paparazzi she'll make sure to take you away from the place, find a corner just for the two of you, put her hands on your ears and try to keep your attention only on her.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no shame in your fears." She'd reassure you if you ever feel like it's embarrassing for her to date someone like you.

Valentin - Justice Seeker

He's a master of organising quiet and tender moments for the two of you. An art gallery, a museum, a closed garden he rented out for the whole day for your comfort alone.

If you would ever be startled by his animals being too loud he'd try to train them to be less noisy around you, he doesn't want his lover to be afraid of his animals.

V could find it hard to handle your fear of loud noises, or more so the panic attacks you may experience, but he'd try his best. He'd ask you all the questions he always wanted to ask you, put your noise canceling headphones on your head, just be there to the best of his abilities.

"You will never be alone with your fears, my love. I will help you go through them." It's a promise, a promise he'll keep for eternity.

Misaki - Mischievous Trickster

They're a really loud person, not able to control how fast or loud they talk, making noises wherever they go. But then, with you they're calmer, going slower about their day, energy and excitement shown in actions rather in loudness.

If you're at any festival together, Misaki will make sure that you're okay. She'd sit you down once in a while, ask a dozen questions, if you're not doing great they'll take you somewhere else or try to distract you.

They put their hands on your ears, hold you against themselves, take you to quiet rooms and places, just anything that could help you deal with the noises when you can hardly take the noise.

"I may be a loud menace, but for you I'll try to tone down, sugar honey dumpling!" They exclaim and wrap her arms around you, pulling you into an embrace.

Love you !!!

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #asks #gender neutral reader #fluff #angel killer chat #ronin beaufort #misaki killer chat #v killer chat #v headcanons #headcanons #ronin headcanons #angel headcanons #misaki headcanons

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txttletale · 9 months ago

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thoughts on duskmourn so far

i like it :) it's not as good as bloomburrow but also i'm not sure anything is. i think duskmourn suffers from the fact that imo it is quite mechanically unclear and murky -- the problem with leaning so heavily into flavouring abilities and putting such a big focus on their fiction 'e.g. unlocking rooms' is that when something doesn't match it's really noticeable. manifest dread plays okay but the name is really clunky and awkward when 'cloak' was three sets ago, the rooms feel stretched to breaking point--some of their effects just seem so detached from their flavour and speaking of the flavour there's a lot of very dubious rooms. what the fuck is a 'weight room' or a 'mirror room'.

also and this is a comparatively minor thing but it's been driving me crazy: the 'fear of' creatures are really bad because similar to rooms i think they ran out of real fears. some of them are like 'fear of falling' 'fear of isolation' 'fear of the dark' and it's like okay. those are real fears. 'fear of missing out' makes me cringeand is also stupid, despite the word 'fear' being in FOMO it's obviously not a fear in the horror movie sense! what the fuck is a FOMO elemental going to do, go out with your friends on a night you're busy? silly. but the one that gets me the most is 'fear of burning alive'. that's not a fucking fear guys. or like it is but it's not a distinct and personal fear like 'abduction' or 'infinity' or even 'losing teeth' -- everyone's fuckling afraid of burning alive, that's normal! 'fear of fire' would have made sense but 'fear of burning alive' might as well be 'fear of being killed to death horribly'.

that said i do love the aesthetics i love the beasties and overlords especially they are all killer designs. i like introducing modern technology levels and aesthetics to mtg i think it's badass i would take a million more ostentatiously 80s themed sets over seeing one more Fucking elf on a card ever again. i am mixed on the overt references which are sometimes very fun and cute and sometimes just feel too 'rejected player one theme song' but i really love the stupid tropey stuff that plays with the tropes and aesthetics without just being a specific movie, lke 'meathook massacre 2'. i like the level of commitment and the number of cards that feel like cheesy stupid horror movie monsters. i l;ove the card art gimmick where some printings have a Scary Getter. like it just commits hard enough to the dumb genre shit to sell it to me

anyway overall it's a good set and leaps ahead of the fucking awful OTJ and MKM but it's still a step down from bloomburrow. oh bloomburrow my beloved

#ask #superoffbatter #mtg

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 years ago

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So we've seen your Error headcannons, can we get your Nightmare ones since you're in a romantical mood?

Oh can you.....

He's a very complex individual. Under all that rage, when he likes you and wants your company, he's actually a very calm, intelligent and eloquent lover. Princely, if you will. He likes hearing you talk, and is very good at roping you into chatting about your hobbies for hours while he just adoringly stares. He enjoys the arts, music, poetry... once he finds someone he wants, you'd never even know how much anger he's set aside.

(Unlike Error, he's aware that constant anger isn't a very attractive trait)

While he's first starting to develop feelings, it's one of those situations where you won't realise how much he likes you until you see the way he acts around other people. You might think he feels neutral about you, at best- he talks to you, but never about himself, seeming to prefer when you're the one talking. Maybe chortles at a joke every now and then. But overall, he's relatively quiet, relatively still-faced... not very outwardly emotional in any manner.

... Then you see how he acts around everyone else. Hair-thin temper that leads to physical violence with anyone who annoys him too long, dismissive and mean about any subject, he tells people who talk too long to shut up and makes underhanded cruel 'jokes' at their expenses. The same tentacles that curl around your hand or stroke your back as he walks by will grab Dust around the head and slam him into the ground because he made a poorly timed joke.

Nightmare has an eye for traditional courtship. Once his heart is set on you, expect bouquets, jewellery, fine evening dining, strolls through midnight gardens, flowery handwritten letters. He carries a locket with your portrait.

You would think his love languages are gift giving and acts of service, considering how often it seems to be the only way he shows love. But deep down... it's actually physical touch. He's just far too afraid to show it.

Nightmare would do well with a physically affectionate partner. Someone who'll cuddle up to him first so has an excuse to snuggle back. But someone less physical would also be good- sometimes he's afraid his aversion to touch will drive away a partner, and somebody who doesn't really mind either way soothes those fears.

You can't lie to him. Well, I mean... you can. But he can sense it, and he'll always know. Whether or not he lets you think he believes you is up to him.

He has a locked box in his castle full of sketches and small oil paint studies of you. You'll know he's finally totally comfortable with you when he politely asks if he can draw you.

His tentacles often act on his true feelings. Whether that's snapping out to choke Killer for asking if you top, or lovingly curling around you when he's half asleep.

... He's actually pretty childish. Especially when in love. Though he's good at hiding it under layers of highborn mannerisms, he fucking hates when there are any potential rivals for your affection. He tends to lash out against the 'rivals' in underhanded manners whenever you're not looking, then really lay on the charm and affection with you to ensure you're not thinking of leaving him. If you're asexual or demi it may not be that big of a deal because he's soothed by your lack of interest in others, but if you're pansexual or bi, it might be a genuine problem that needs addressing.

Call him "my love". He likes feeling like your one and only.

#llamagines #you all have valacre to thank for my adoration of nightmare

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urfavedumbblonde · 1 month ago

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Ahhhh, I love your Mona headcanons!. I just had to submit this after reading, to say thank you and good job. Even tho you weren't sure about posting, I'm glad you went through with it. I like women that are mean to me, so I had a really good time reading, lol.

If you're still interested in writing about her, could I make a request/throw some ideas out there? Could there be more yandere work, maybe focusing on how she would go about getting her s/o? Stalking, killing, abduction? She becomes obsessed with someone (maybe they're extremely passionate about something like she is with art, so they see them as an exception to the rule when it comes to people.)

A muse that unknowingly gives them new painting ideas. I heard a lot of female serial killers end up fascinated with medicine, so maybe like a doctor/researcher. I like the contrast of someone that's fixated on putting people together versus someone that likes to pull people apart. Same morbid interests, but coming from a very different place.

Preference for fem but gn is fine! Feel free to take as much artistic liberty with my suggestion, ofc, and have a wonderful day!

MONA LANIUS HEADCANNONS feat. PLASTIC SURGEON! R

hi angel! i fear we have the same type so i had to try to do this concept justice. also writing for mona is so fun i love her.

contains - mona has a crush and is awful at it. gn! plastic surgeon! r, r referred to as pretty, blood, needles, knives, stalking, mentioned torture, mona tries performing surgery (do not let her do that)

̥ .‧⋆ did your job include blood and sharp objects? yes, but it was all to make sure your clients felt beautiful! you’d just opened your own practice. nothing huge, mainly botox and filler, but where there’s needles and blood, there’s mona.

̥ .‧⋆ now, she’s seen how pretty you look with syringes in your hands, how careful you are with your clientele too. she’s also watched you through your windows and don’t worry, she’s not normal about this. your comforting smiles and numbing creams are basically the exact opposite of everything she does to her own um - projects and she’s curious

̥ .‧⋆ she’ll watch through a window and half-listen to you talk about filler options while your gloved hands gently trace over faces, oddly enough, almost exactly how she does when she’s got someone new. oooouu she wants you bad.

̥ .‧⋆ of course, she’s got to plan a little first and possibly steal some of your supplies while you aren’t looking. for now, she’ll just watch you with big eyes and think about how nice you’d look if she used one of your needles on you for a change.

̥ .‧⋆ you begin to notice a lot of very tall people wherever you go soon after though, or was it just the one? you’re not sure but they’re always somewhere. the grocery store, a cafe, a spa, even your gym. that’s odd. you don’t question it.

̥ .‧⋆ if you do have a s/o, all i can say is pray for them. she’ll probably either terrorize them into leaving you, or the more likely choice: abduct, torture, then murder them. she hangs their painting somewhere visible so she can show you when you come. how sweet.

̥ .‧⋆ now we all know she likes raw violence too much to just consider drugging, it’s so boring compared to plain old-fashioned knife usage anyway. no, she wants to see you breathing hard and scared.

̥ .‧⋆ she’ll pick a time you’re relaxed, maybe in a more deserted alley by the local grocery store, grab your wrist, and lay some things out simply. you’re coming with her. if you don’t - well, she’s got one of your scalpels in her hand that she doesn’t look too afraid to use. basically, you don’t actually have a choice. you’re coming with her.

̥ .‧⋆ once she’s got you, takes time to interview you about your procedures in depth. you thought she was just curious. you learned, when she brought someone home and gave them her version of a face-lift, she was not. you don’t tell her much anymore.

̥ .‧⋆ in general a good rule to follow is to avoid telling her anything about your practice. her ass will be tracking your patients down and “fixing them up” mona-style which no one except her wants

̥ .‧⋆ because you can stomach a good amount of gore without batting an eye, she does have a little more respect for you than the average person though. a little, not that she’ll tell you

#mona lanius #mona lanius x reader #urbanspook #x reader #the painter #.‧⋆ my work

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kai-anderson-whore · 2 years ago

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His protégé (James Patrick march x fem reader smut) (kinktober fic 3)

Summary: you met James like his other “students” but after years off him taken you under his wing you couldn’t handle the pressures.

Warnings: smut, mentions of killing, becoming a serial killer, p in v sex, slight edging, knife kink, oral (reader receiving), tiny bit of spanking (like one spank), feeling like being watched, fear of abandonment(James not wanting reader to leave like the countess sort of did), James being possessive.

Word count: 3k

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

You met him over three years ago, the same way as all his "students". Coincidentally waltzing into the Cortez when the world felt like it could swallow you whole, well at least that's what you felt like you wanted the world to do. To say this was the worst week you ever had was the understatement of the century.

You sat by the bar toying with the glass of alcohol in front of you. 'Was drowning your sorrows even worth it?', 'is getting so wasted that you'd might get kicked out the the hotel even worth it?' You wondered something that became routine over the past few days residing at this hotel. The bar was practically empty considering it was late on in the night.

The bartender who you soon known as liz shooting you a sympathetic smile every now and then. You observed the lavish historical hotel, full of art deco some antiques from the 1920s. You had heard all the rumours and stories of this hotel's history to say that it intrigued you would be the best way to put it. You heard near enough everything about the hotel Cortez and the "ghosts" residents here thanks to billie dean Howard.

You felt preying eyes on you, furrowed brows you turned and saw nothing... weird you thought. Maybe it was your imagination after all your in an infamous "haunted" hotel. But that was impossible ghosts aren't true, right?. Decided on calling it a night you thanked liz and went to your room 64, famous for being the room of two serial killers John Lowe and the former office of the owner james Patrick march coincidentally.

You still like you were being watched but tried to shrug it off 'relax no one is watching me it's in my head' you thought. Oh how you were wrong, several of ghosts who resisted here had their eye on you. Some curious on why you would come here, others wanted you as their next victim but one specific ghost wanted you as their protege, their next successor.

You finally made it to your room, fumbling around in your Jean pocket for your room key, you jammed the key into the door unlocking the door not before looking around to see if someone was near you. You couldn't shake that feeling that somebody was watching you, no matter how much you tried to shake it off.

Locking your room door you let out a breath out didn't know you were holding in. Making your way over to your suitcase you picked out your night attire. You still felt that eerie feeling going into the bathroom to clean your makeup off.

You exited the bathroom now in your pyjamas, the little clock on the nightstand played it's little song like usual "that thing freaks me out" you said out loud. "Don't let that frighten you dear" a voice chimed in making you let out a yelp in fright. Seeing a man sat on the chair a glass of whiskey or bourbon in hand you didn't know.

"Who the fuck are you" you hissed feeling mixed emotions shock, anger, fear of this intruder. "My names James Patrick march I'm the owner of this hotel and I'm afraid I don't like your tone dear" he introduced in a velvety accent getting up from the chair. He was dressed sharp in a pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt with a neck scarf.

"The owner of this hotel died like almost a hundred years ago" you scoffed at the man, which didn't faze him. "Yes that is true but you see in this hotel the dead doesn't exactly die" he stated stepping closer to you as you took steps back. You could see him more clearly now dark hair, pale skin with a pencil moustache that decorated his upper lip and beautiful chocolatey brown eyes that held something sinister in them.

"What do you want from me?" You asked. Even though his eyes held something evil within them you felt drawn to him like he wouldn't hurt you. "I've been watching you my dear, and I couldn't help but see the rage you secure within you" he said. A confused look on your face 'was I that noticeably angry?' You thought. "Right so?" You shrugged not quite catching on to what the ghost was saying.

"I want to help you set that rage free"

...

You didn't really remember what happened after that night all you remember was James teaching you everything there is to know about being a killer. For those three years he had taken you under his wing, taught you his ways, showed you his little contraptions within the hotel. And you were nothing if not willing to go through with it all.

You listened to every word that rolled off his tongue about his little plan. There were only three rules he had when it came to his little hobby 1: don't have a method. 2: don't be sloppy about it. 3: don't get caught.

You had just came back from another kill entering James's room on the 7th floor. "Ah your back dear how was it? Tell me the details" James's voice chimed the old fashioned record player playing an old time song. "It was the same as any other time James quick and easy" you sighed finding an old rag to clean yourself up.

"Quick you say, how so?" He asked confused at your lack of creativity unlike it usually was. "Because James I don't want to get caught I have a funny feeling that I'm going to be caught soon so I'm done" you sighed placing your knife on the little table by the bed. James watched your every move deep in thought. He wondered if your proposal was a good move "your going to stop killing?" He asked removing his blazer placing it on a chair, rolling his sleeves up.

"Yes James I'm sorry, I'm grateful you showed me your ways and I really did enjoy my time with you but it's best if i stop now before the heat on my ass gets me burnt" you held your hands up in defence making your way to the door.

James didn't know if he was sad or angry at the fact you've given up on your little spree or was it because you were essentially leaving him. Just as you turned the handle ready to exit till that sophisticated accent stopped you. "Don't go... please" he begged.

James didn't want to admit it to himself but these three years he spent with you were the best years he had in this hotel after he died. He didn't spend his time chasing after his ex-wife the countess, he spent every moment near enough with you enjoying the sick bond you both formed. He grew very fond of you more than his other students you had potential the same characteristics as himself.

"What?" You didn't quite believe what you were hearing, it wasn't the words it was the tone complete desperation. Only time you heard that tone of voice was around the first time you met him when he was desperately trying to get the countess back.

"Please don't leave me I couldn't bare it" he pleaded once again with a meek voice. The door still ajar, your hand on the handle. "James it's for the best anyway we had fun but it's time to get out before it's too late but I need to leave before I get caught" you stated. "I DONT CARE ABOUT THE KILLING Y/N" James yelled taken you aback. He never raised his voice at you once even when he was frustrated with you for some reason he never ever raised his voice.

James walked closer to you his face now red with anger. He wasn't going to let you leave he let one woman slip away he doesn't intend to let it happen again. You were a little nervous at the sudden shift in the room.

"I will not let you leave this hotel not after everything" his voice was calm but his expression said otherwise. You didn't know what was going to happen "what do you mean not letting me leave this hotel?" You asked. "I've grown rather fond of you my dear, I look forward to our little meetings and I guess I can't let that go" his cold breath fanned against your neck sending shivers down your spine.

You almost crumbled as his cold hands rested on your biceps, your breathing quickening with the small touch. Looking into his dark eyes held anger and lust. "I've never felt this way for anyone since the countess but with you dearest, it doesn't compare to the feelings I have for you" his lips in a smirk, seeing you melt from just his words.

It all made sense to you now, you couldn't lie to yourself and say you didn't grow to have strong feelings for the ghost (because that was far from the truth). The truth was you were infatuated with James Patrick march, you spent every moment with him for the past three years it felt impossible not to. People would call you a stupid girl for it.

"James-" you were cut off by his ice cold lips on yours. The kiss was rough but you responded nonetheless. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip demanding entrance. Parting your lips moaning into his mouth, he showed dominance with just his mouth, giving into him, kicking the door shut with your foot.

James guided you to the bed effortlessly, the backs of your knees meeting the foot of the bed. His tongue explored your mouth before he pulled away. James then unbuttoned his dress shirt, your hands roamed his bare chest biting your lip. Your fingers hooking around his suspenders pulling James close to you crashing your lips back on his.

A delighted hum left him as he pushed your body down on the bed. Your legs parted automatically allowing James to slot himself between them. His lips moved to your neck slightly biting the flesh there making you feel dizzy. His hands roamed your sides feeling, caressing every curve that came in contact with his hand.

You sat up as James began to remove your slip dress leaving you in just your underwear. "Your beauty doesn't compare to anything in this world" James's voice was more deep, thick with lust making you grow wetter by the second. "Your mine now dear, I'll never let you go" James snarls, his fingers hooking into your underwear peeling the fabric off your body.

Now just kneeling on the foot of the bed James got a perfect view of your dripping core. "Your all mine" James hummed against your thigh trailing his rough lips upwards till he met where you needed him the most. He was like a possessive animal and you were loving every moment of it.

James licked a strip between your folds bringing you arousal to your clit. You gasped at the shot of pleasure of his mouth on your clit, sucking, swirling his tongue on the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands held your thighs apart as wide as he could getting all access to you.

A moan escaped you as he continued his assault on your pussy. Your hand's gripped into the bedsheets underneath you for leverage. It was already too much but you never wanted it to stop. You already felt dangerously close to the edge. James darted his tongue in your entrance, his nose brushing against your clit adding to the pleasure.

"I'm so close" you warned feeling that knot tightening in the pit of your core. James hummed against you devouring you like his last meal. He never stopped his movements bringing his attention back to your clit more rougher than before coaxing you to let go over his tongue.

Your orgasm ripped through you, back arching, toes curling practically screaming his name. "That's it dear let everyone hear who's making you feel this euphoric" he chimed against your glistening heat. He licked up all your juices before pulling away from your heat.

"Oh god" you sighed regaining your breath. Moving your body to sit up by the pillows. James peeled his suspenders off his shoulders, removing his shirt in the process. His hair now disheveled, a beautiful sight to see. You removed your bra leaving yourself fully naked in front of him.

James glanced at the silver knife on the nightstand, he still felt rage for you ready to leave him. He picked the knife up making up gulp, you didn't know his intentions now a look of slight fear yet excitement in your eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you dearest" as if he read your mind with his free hand he undid his slacks and removed his underwear freeing his rock hard cock.

You were drooling at the sight, he was long and thick but not to thick were you'd think he'd slit you in two. His cock slight curved it was probably the most prettiest cock you'd ever seen.

James then got on top of your body slotting himself between your legs. Crashing his lips back on yours, the blade still in hand. Feeling the flat surface of the cold metal on your thigh, sending a shiver through you. He began dragging the metal down your outer thigh, his cock grinding on your inner side.

James pulled away from your lips taking the sharp edge of the knife to your cheek. "You will never leave me dear, I wouldn't allow it" his eyes dark, lustrous and sinister. It all was too addicting, "I'll never leave you James" you whimpered pathetically, the blade dragging from your cheek to under your chin, not to cut you but feel the harshness.

You grew more wetter than you were before. James lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself into your sopping cunt without warning. You cried out as his thrusts were rough as merciless. Your hands gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin coaxing his thrusts to become more harsher and expeditious.

James dragged the blade to the valley of your breasts. You moaned out feeling the cold metal under your breast. A grunt leaving James's lips "you feel like heaven" he grunted "you will never leave me, you belong to me from now on" he said in between his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him the desire burning like fire.

"Oh fuck" you cried out, chest heaving, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could barely hear what he was saying. You could see that veins popping out of his neck the blade soon discarded and replaced with his hand on your breast fondling the lump of tissue.

A sigh of pleasure left your lips, feeling close to the edge once again. James didn’t let it go unnoticed, feeling you clenching around him. Much to your dismay James pulled out of you leaving you feeling empty and whimpering. You shot the ghost a confused look “don’t worry dear just turn around for me” James ordered.

Nodding your head you got on your hands and knees, feeling your wetness dripping down your legs in the process. “Your so wet, who for dear?” James cooed in his velvety voice. “You James all for you” your voice was scratchy from the high pitched moans. You felt that blade once again on your lower back.

“Yes dear all for me, no one else” James was possessive over what was his, you were no exception. From his student to now bent over for him as he drags the knife lower over your ass to your core. You moaned in pleasure you didn’t think this would be your type of thing but with James you’d do anything.

A sting on your ass making you jolt forward, James hand colliding with the skin there. You moaned at the sudden feeling, James’s hand soothing the red mark. Lining himself back up with your entrance effortlessly. Your greedy cunt taking him with one thrust.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets once again, your body jolted with each harsh thrust he delivered. All that could be heard in the room was a mixture of you and James’s pleasures, skin slapping off each other and the bed rocking beneath you.

You could have sworn you could feel him in your stomach, one hand on your hip the other toying with the knife along your lower back again. The thrill of what he was going to do next wasn’t like anything before, the anticipation eating you up.

James couldn’t get enough of you, you were like a drug he never wanted rehab for. The way your walls would clench and flutter around him was enough for him to come undone then and there. The way your loud moans filled the room, like music to his ears. You were just perfect to him, his perfect little protégé.

“Who do you belong you?” James grunted thrusting rapidly into your poor little pussy. You tried to get the words out but you couldn’t comprehend amongst all the overwhelming pleasure. Only a strangled moan leaving your lips instead.

Feeling the knife against your neck and an arm pulling you up flush against James’s chest, his cold breath fanning against your ear. “I asked you a question dear, very impolite not to answer” his thrusts harder hitting your cervix granted to make you see stars. You throw your head back to rest in James’s shoulder as you managed to answer.

“I belong to you james, I’m so close” you warned.

James discarded the knife once again, replaced it with his own hand chasing your orgasm. You reached out for his hair tugging on it, your other hand gripped onto his arm around your waist. “Let go for me, darling” he whispered, that was enough for you cumming for a second time. Your grip on his arm tightened releasing all your juices over his cock.

Triggering his own orgasm, James hips snapped upwards spilling his seed deep inside you. A low moan left James as you came with his name on your lips like your only prayer riding out your highs.

Once you both calmed down you leaned onto James skin glistening with sweat, breathing shallow. Gaining the energy to lift yourself off of James you threw yourself onto the pillows feeling knackered. James got off the bed to grab a rag to clean up.

After getting you both clean James threw his undergarments back on climbing into bed beside you. “I won’t leave you James” you said with a weak, tried voice. James wrapped his arm around you, bringing yourself closer to him resting your head on his chest. “I know darling” he hummed deep in thought.

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kittyplushy · 3 months ago

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have u ever thought about a swap au for u and Sam like what if u were the killa and she was the yearner

(@sigmas-lover)

Oh, Philiah, this is new!! I have thought of an alternative Praludium where Sam visits the Philippines and camps there to meet with an amateur hiker. Julianne is just out to touch grass and she's still young but losing hope and feeling lost like Sam..and instead of Otto who insists on things, the night they share is a lot longer where Julianne lets her talk and lets her reevaluate things while gently nudging her to hold on for any hope like she does. She skips a meal to empathize but this strikes some worry in Sam (she hasn't felt this intense in a while!!) who encourages her to eat. Sam thinks about killing Julianne but lets her go because of how kind she is and also because she'd be receptive and- she has more choice than Sam will ever have. She sees her reflection on her fur. Maybe stays a bit in town but ultimately moves back to the US after her first kill.

On that new idea though. Infodump under the cuuut!!!!

Julianne would kill out of jealousy. After killing Eres, she swears to herself to only kill those who are "worthwhile threats". She doesn't kill just anyone who makes her green but it quickly snowballs into rage. She kills people with more money, more popularity, those who actually have bullied her, or simply people she obsesses over. She works in Centerville and kills there but lives in Woodbrook. Sam, having not grown out of her Praludium depression, is a lot shyer and quiet, used to being pushed around and abused that she refuses love or detains it from others likes Julianne and loves her art and writing- trying to replicate it herself through journalling. She's afraid of coming first to Julianne but eventually does seeing her upset after a night of murder. She shows her her scrapbooking and they immediately get along and share hyperfixations and techniques they've learnt.

Julianne wouldn't accept love convincing herself she is unworthy of any affection...while Sam would..yknow. Be silently in love with her and her art and wants to be her biggest cheerleader while holding out in fear and in forced docility.

Maybe it ends with Sam and Julianne being a serial killer duo together? Because they encourage each other so much to the point they'll Ok murder of just anybody who crosses them in any capacity.

#house guest 🐈🐻#self shipping #self ship #yumejoshi #oc x canon #safe shipping #safe ship #self insert #selfshipper

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months ago

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Gut Instinct: Interlude - Lucas

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Interlude]

Saturday morning was… rough. He had woken up hungover for the first time in his life, and maybe his last because he’s not sure this feeling is worth the fun of last night. Then the police had shown up and spoken to Jason.

Lucas had planned to go home, check in with his parents and then figure out what he and Dustin were going to do during spring break, since Mike was gone.

But the sound Jason had made, when he’d stalked past everyone and just wailed in the woods. Lucas had known then that he couldn’t abandon him. Lucas wasn’t as close to anyone on the team as he was with Dustin and Mike, but he still considered Jason a friend.

He couldn’t leave until he knew that Jason was going to be alright.

Then Jason told them all what the police had said.

Lucas couldn’t leave then. What a shitty friend he would be if he just left when Jason had just learned that his girlfriend had been murdered.

He would admit to being a little thrown off his guard to learn that Chrissy had been found in Eddie’s home, and that Eddie was nowhere to be found. But even so, he couldn’t imagine that Eddie would do something like that.

Yeah, Eddie was kind of scary and mean, but not enough to Lucas to believe he’d done it.

So, Lucas stayed Saturday night, too. There was a lot of hushed whispering between Jason and the guys on the team that Lucas knows to be Jason’s friends outside of just being on the team with him. They tried to include Lucas in the conversation, but Lucas is only half listening.

Maybe that did make him a bad friend to Jason.

He just can’t stop thinking about Chrissy being dead and Eddie being missing. It makes more sense in his brain that Eddie was kidnapped by whoever killed Chrissy than it does that Eddie might be a murderer.

It just doesn’t make sense that someone would pick to kidnap Eddie over Chrissy. That’s the part Lucas can’t wrap his brain around and is why he hadn’t spoken up in Eddie’s defense to the guys.

Now it’s Sunday.

Lucas wakes up alone and knows instantly that it’s early. The sun hasn’t even fully risen, judging by the light outside.

The sound draws him outside, and he finds Jason, Patrick, and Andy loading the back of Jason’s car with stuff. Dangerous stuff.

He’s not naive enough to believe they really just want to find Eddie to talk to him. Lucas wants to find Eddie, too, but not for whatever they’ve got planned.

“What are you guys doing?” Lucas asks, even though he knows.

“We’re gearing up,” Patrick answers, throwing a bag into the back of the car.

“Preparing for the hunt,” Andy says, wiggling a very big, very heavy looking wrench in the air.

Lucas pauses, unsure how to proceed.

Jason drops what he’s holding and approaches Lucas, reaching out to grab onto one of Lucas’ shoulders. “Hey, man. Relax. We’re not killers like Eddie. We just wanna talk to him. Get him to admit to his crime.”

“Yeah,” Andy adds, “A little friendly neighborhood chat.”

Jason, who had turned to look at Andy when he spoke, turns back to the silent Lucas and says, “Hey. You didn’t know Chris. If you’re not up to this, you can go home. There’s no judgment. You’ll still be one of us, alright?”

Lucas hesitates. He’s Jason’s friend and he’s Eddie’s friend, and he knows with a certainty that he won’t be friends with one of them by the end of this. Whatever ‘this’ ends up being.

Lucas thinks to the championship game, and how all of Hellfire turned up. He just can’t imagine a version of Eddie that turns up for his game would then go home and murder someone. “I- I’m sorry about Chrissy. I am. But Eddie…” Lucas trails off, afraid to admit out loud that he’s friends with Eddie.

Jason must see the fear, because he drops his voice so Patrick and Andy can’t hear and tries to assure Lucas, “I know he seems scary, but the freak’s no match for us. But I can drop you off at home if you’d rather. I meant what I said. You’re one of us.”

It’s an out that Lucas didn’t even know he needed until Jason offers it to him. “I’d like to go home.”

A half hour later finds him banging down the door to Dustin’s house. He wants to know if Dustin heard, if Dustin knows why Chrissy might have been at Eddie’s place. And now that he’s thinking about it, he wants to know if Max is alright. She lives at Forest Hills Trailer Park, too.

#gut instinct #my fic #steddie #steddiebang24

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strawberryraviegutz · 9 months ago

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All this discourse/hate about Terrifier is starting to get to me.. I thought it was heavily agreed upon in the horror community that liking or creating these types of things doesn’t make someone a horrible person. I rlly don’t wanna have to be afraid of liking Terrifier out of fear of being judged or not being able to make friends..it’s like hellaverse all over again..

I understand if you don’t like it but accusing the fans, creator, and ppl involved with the movie of being disgusting/bigoted/misogynistic is just so unnecessary…

There’s so much nuance to the franchise that ppl also refuse to look at. It’s not like I condone what Art does to his victims nor does it mean I hate women nor does it mean that I’m anti feminist. I just wanna enjoy a gory horror movie about a killer clown..

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dustcrumbs · 10 months ago

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Wooooooooo anon againnnnnn oooooo

Anypairs will do honestly i wanna read your rambles, talk like a madman!! Talk even if foolish!!! I find rambles like these endearing

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooo

REALLLY?? ME?? RAMBLE?? TANK YOU!!

I honestly suck at explaining my own opinions. But I do wanna touch on Epic X Killer a little more..

Killer loves making wood carvings or sculptures. And Epic would frequently buy him the wood and the tools he needed. He always encourages what Killer makes and praises him for it. Obviously, that fuels Killer to continue creating through art rather than ripping someone's heart out and making a weird poem with it. So he feels proud every time he finishes something. He'd probably run over to Epic after he's made something cool, wanting to show it off.

Killer would be extremely jealous of Epic and Cross's close bond. He'd purposely interrupt/sabotage Cross if given the chance or try to get Epic to focus on him instead. Killer is most afraid of the idea that Epic will grow bored of him and replace him with Cross. Since they had hit it off so well, he's afraid he'll be left behind.

Epic would always reassure him about the impossibility of that happening. And Killer is always convinced in the end. But he can't help but doubt Epics words.

Killer is the big spoon. And Epic is the small spoon. Trust, I was their pillow 🙏

Epic likes making cringy horror stories up and telling them to Killer. And Killer just listens to the monstrosities that Epic talks about..

Epic can solely bake cookies, and everything else will be burnt to a crisp. Killer would still try to eat the ashes, though.

Killer is extremely flirtatious, even when the situation is gorey.

Epic would always make Killer feel relaxed in tense situations, whether it's his stupid remarks or simply standing there in his sight.

Whenever Killer is stressed or upset, Epic suggests that they could go feed the strays. Something that always relaxes Killer, especially since he loves cats more than humanity and monsters. (Except for Epic ofc)

Killer doesn't know what personal space is. And Epic doesn't mind it. Even if Killer is all up on him. His space is Killers.

Epic and Killer would absolutely try to hatch eggs from stores..

Epic doesn't like it when Killer has to return to Nightmare. He has the constant fear that one day he won't come back to visit him. That one day. It will be their last together.

#killer sans #epic sans #killer x epic #epic x killer #sans au #sans aus

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new-author3 · 2 months ago

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At the Edge of Silence - Part ³ end

Summary: SN is Hotch’s ex-girlfriend from their college days. They reunite when she joins a case as a consultant. Old feelings resurface, but the danger is real: the serial killer involved in the case develops an obsession with her, and Hotch must protect the woman he once loved.

Genre: Drama, Suspense, Emotional Romance

Word count: approx. 1,583

Warnings: Moderate violence, kidnapping, emotional triggers (abandonment, manipulation), psychological tension.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Masterlist

Silence.

“I made you believe he didn’t deserve you. That he’d leave you. And he did. I planted doubts. Used fake messages. Took your phone once at a party. Sent him something from you and sent you something from him. Things out of context. False. Just enough to shake the foundation.”

My world shattered.

“That can’t be true…” I whispered, staring at the ground, feeling everything collapse.

“But it is, darling. And now that the truth is out… let’s play.”

His last words made my body go cold. He held something sharp, and on the table were pliers, hooks, and blades.

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked, voice trembling, uncertain.

“I need to create a work of art out of you. For Aaron to see. But don’t worry… it’ll only hurt a little.” He smiled, moving closer.

It felt like hours, days, or maybe weeks—or maybe pain and blood loss blurred my sense of time. That’s when Aaron came.

He would always come.

He found me.

The relief on his face was so clear that, for a moment, I forgot about the pain in my body. He untied me from the chair and held me with care, with desperation, with something I knew was love. But I couldn’t say it out loud.

“Are you okay, SN?” His voice was low, steady, trembling.

I just nodded. I wasn’t okay. But he was there. And that was… something.

He didn’t speak again. He only pressed his lips to my forehead. A small gesture, but devastating. The kind of gesture that says everything words never could.

My tears came like a flood held back for far too long. Aaron held me tighter, but with the same care you give to something fragile. I trembled. He trembled. And in that moment, there was no FBI, no mission. Just the two of us.

“I’m going to take care of you, sweetheart.” He whispered, picking me up. I leaned my face into his neck, and then everything went dark.

____________________________________________

I woke up in the hospital.

The light was soft, the sound of the monitors comforting. My body ached, but I was whole. Beside me, him. Tired. Still. Eyes locked on me like he was afraid I’d disappear again.

“You came back to me.” I whispered, without thinking.

He smiled. A sad, broken, but honest smile.

“I never wanted to leave.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. I still felt weak, but there was something I needed to know.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? We could’ve figured it out…” I asked, after a silence heavier than any pain.

He lowered his head, running a hand through his hair, like searching for strength. When he looked back at me, his eyes were full of regret.

“Because I thought I was protecting you. I… was scared, SN. Scared of dragging you into the chaos of my life. Scared I couldn’t be the man you deserved. And when those messages came, when the doubts started… I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“You left me alone, Aaron. With too many questions. With too much pain.”

“I know.” His voice cracked, and he leaned closer to the bed. “And I regret it every day. But if I had known—if I had known someone was manipulating everything—I would’ve done anything to stop it.”

“You should’ve trusted me. Trusted us.” I said, tears running down my face.

He nodded slowly, eyes gleaming with a kind of silent desperation.

“I made a mistake. But I won’t make it again. I’m not leaving, SN. Not without fighting for you.”

For a moment, we stared at each other in silence. The pain was still there, but there was something stronger too—the love that survived time, fear, and lies.

“I still love you.” he said, simply, like it was the only truth that mattered.

And it was.

I reached out with what little strength I had left. He took my hand like it was an anchor.

“I forgive you.” I murmured. “But you’ll have to prove, every day, that you’re here. That this is real.”

He leaned in slowly, eyes locked on mine, and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I will. I promise.”

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t rushed, or desperate. It was a kiss full of everything that was never said, of everything that endured, of everything being reborn right there—among machines, pain, and silent promises.

Because this time, he wasn’t going to leave.

Not without me.

And I wouldn’t go without him.

End..

#aaron hotcher #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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abdulrahman-family · 3 months ago

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I think Far Cry 5 could have been a fascinating commentary on christian extremism in rural America if it hadn’t been so afraid to actually SAY something.

I think it’s two-fold: on one hand, having the major villains with whom you frequently interact be explicitly white nationalist christian extremists would be uncomfortable (to say the least) for your median fps RPG gamer. It should be, and that should be okay, but people are so sensitive when it comes to art with meaning that they will turn away from interesting political commentary due to it being “woke”. On the other hand, having them be a very centrist cult with deeply unclear religious beliefs makes the message of the game very confusing, because it leaves the player unclear on what, exactly, the PEG beliefs and what material conditions led them to believe such things.

I think it’s also worth nothing that Ubisoft was undoubtedly aware that, either way, they were going to offend someone, but decided it was less destructive to alienate their “liberal” playerbase vs their “conservative” playerbase. This is how we got the deeply milquetoast liberal but somehow fundamentalist cult that is the PEG/the Seed family. For the story’s theme of “holy shit, religious extremism feeds off of the suffering of the rural working class in order to keep them in line and completely devastates entire communities in the name of ‘religion’” to make sense in the context of rural America, the game would inherently have to discuss white nationalism. American Conservatism feeds off of the miseducation of the working class and actively encourages the hatred of racialized groups by white people in order to maintain white capitalist hegemony. To do this, American Conservatism frequently adds evangelical Christianity to the mix to say, “the world is ending and God is going to kill us all”.

It SHOULD be uncomfortable for a game’s villains to be terrible people; especially realistic terrible people. Them being terrible people does not mean that they cannot be engaged with as fascinating characters that represent real, and incredibly heinous, people. This is a bizarre puritanical practice that I see frequently amongst liberal “fandom” people, who feel as though you cannot so much as discuss a character who is a bigot, a rapist, a serial killer, etc. without in turn excusing such things in real life. It narratively and realistically would make the most sense if the Seed family were white nationalists. It would make sense. The bulk of their imagery is borrowed from real white nationalist christian cults. The Seed family are terrifying, evil, abusive people—and yet people are either nonetheless afraid to engage with them as characters due to fear of being equated morally to them, or alternatively, far to eager to engage with them as objects of affection with unclear ideological beliefs and attractive faces rather than a failed, but fascinating, commentary on a real phenomenon.

I think of the Harga from Midsommer; Ari Aster left clues that indicated that they were a white supremacist cult, but the Harga never outright said, “we are racist, we hate nonwhite people.” I think that is what should have been done with the Seed family. If they were real, they would most definitely be white nationalists, just according to the way they are presented canonically. They would be your run of the mill raw meat/raw dairy/homestead/save Europa people with a touch of “John 3:16” in their Instagram bio. They might never put a swatstika on the side of their car, but they would put an othala, or something else ambiguously religious. We all know the type, because we see them everywhere. If that had been the Seed family, their story would make far more sense than it did and be far more complete than it was.

Conservatives seem to tell on themselves when they see fictional villains that are white nationalists, christian fundamentalists, Nazis, etc., and say, “we aren’t like THAT! This is offensive!” Despite the fact that, yes, they should be made uncomfortable by ‘offensive’ depictions of their ideologies, because their ideologies are inherently hateful and nonsensical. I think that the Seed family did start out as a caricature of your Proud Boy/Manosphere raw milk drinker/militant Protestant obsessed with the apocalypse type of American, but their story quickly devolved into being painfully centrist and seemingly afraid to say SOMETHING worthwhile.

#far cry 5

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uenodivision · 7 months ago

Text

BATTLE OF PRIDE (DekaDynasty Ver.)

youtube

(Welcome to the division)

Battle of Pride

H.Y.P.N.O.S.I.S. Mic!

Battle of Pride

[Aranai:]

(Battle of Pride!)

Pedal to the metal, my throttle's full of sin

The HBIC is on the mic, born to ride and born to win!

Adrenaline junkie, my rhymes hit like an f'ing spike

Revvin' up the crowd, this is the kind of life that I like!

[Shisuta:]

In prayerful whispers, my rhymes rise to the skies

A servant of the Word, in truth, without disguise

Through trials and tribulations, His strength I rehearse

A humble messenger, with the gospel in verse

[Kisouna:]

In the court or on the streets, my verdict resounds

With scales of justice, I'm Ueno's guardian hound

No crime goes unpunished, on my watch, no fallacy

"Guilty!" I proclaim, for all who challenge me!

[Sakurai Clan:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Sakurai Clan shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Ryuko:]

From the underworld's shadow to the animator's light

I sketch out my fury, frame by frame, fight by fight

Ink flows like blood, my past a dark art, each stroke a battle scar

On this canvas of beats, I tear fuckin' mics apart!

[Maki:]

In the lecture hall of life, I'm the professor of truth

Dispensing worldwide knowledge, enlightening the youth

Each stanza crafted with care, a hidden rebel's call

Challenging the regime, without fear I stand tall

[Shuu:]

From the darkest secrets to the sweetest truth

Men-H's eyes see all, uncovering the proof

In this game of lies, I'll always find the way

For the broken hearts, I promise, I will make the guilty pay

[Sazanka Zombeez:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Sazanka Zombeez shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Nadya:]

In the quiet before dawn, Oculus' vision forms

Vipera's strike awaits, as the silent storm transforms

[Meari:]

Screaming into the void, my lyrics carve a fucking path

Bloody Mary's reflection, a testament to my wrath!

[Aika:]

Ohh, I feel the pleasure building, it's so much I just can't take it!

One more push and I'll be free, primed and ready to release~

[Oculus:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Oculus shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Chorus:]

(Battle of Pride!)

Let's start this showtime

Sparks flying in this fight

Do not cross, out of control

We're locking it down

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce

Make it bounce, bounce

Scorching the floor with one verse

(Battle of Pride)

Proving we’re alive

No way we're afraid

Writing our own legend

We’re snagging our glory here

Bounce bounce make it bounce

Make it bounce bounce

Bet your everything and survive

The rule is just to

Bounce bounce bounce

It's kill or be killed so

Bounce bounce bounce

Battle of Pride

[Sayaka:]

With wings of hope, I cradle my dearest kin

Rhopalocera's grace; this is where my love begins

For Saitama's soul and my daughters' bright gleams

I will stand as a beacon even in the darkest dreams

[Lola:]

Aphrodite's charm, the world's envy and desire

In Femme Fatale's glow, I set all hearts on fire

Crowned in beauty's grace, I'm Japan's finest queen

My allure transcends in every possible scene

[Kureha:]

In the twilight's embrace, Eclipse paints the night

With strokes of darkness where stars lose their light

A silent void whispers in the moon's gentle sway

Art's somber echo as the world fades away

[Femme Fatale:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Femme Fatale shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Ryūzō:]

In the realm of shadows where feelings reside

A killer's heart beats strong, though in darkness we hide

A shadow's essence, more than what it seems

Life's not about finding, but creating our dreams

[Takumi:]

With GUTS and fire, we can all embrace the day!

Youth's power ignites in every single way

Never give up, always strive to be the best

Because today's efforts will help build tomorrow's success!

[Kotono:]

In the chaos of life, this educator finds her way

With a drink in one hand, and a bet to play

From a laboratory to a classroom, her path is so wide

Do not take life too seriously, just enjoy the ride! (Come on!)

[Kiya Kara:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Kiya Kara shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Yuuya:]

In Nara's embrace, where summer dreams ignite

Cherish every moment before they all fade from your sight!

[Asahi:]

In spring's serene beauty, my art of wagashi unfolds

Chase your dreams, like tales of old, where real courage molds

[Saigo:]

In winter's chill, where truth's cold light prevails

Tsukumogami's words cut deep, like icy gales

[Miraitabi:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Miraitabi shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Chorus:]

(Battle of Pride!)

Let's start this showtime

Sparks flying in this fight

Do not cross, out of control

We're locking it down

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce

Make it bounce, bounce

Scorching the floor with one verse

(Battle of Pride)

Proving we’re alive

No way we're afraid

Writing our own legend

We’re snagging our glory here

Bounce bounce make it bounce

Make it bounce bounce

Bet your everything and survive

The rule is just to

Bounce bounce bounce

It's kill or be killed so

Bounce bounce bounce

Battle of Pride

[Anika:]

In the realm of minds, I help to guide the way

Words of wisdom and misdirection, breaking habits' sway

From racing tracks to healing hearts anew

Transforming lives, young and old, where fresh journeys ensue

[Shian:]

The thrill of the chase, it's adrenaline's rush

Breaking through barriers, in the hunt is where I crush

Running free, no chains in the world can bind my stride

In the pursuit, my purpose I find (Ready or Not!)

[Makina:]

You're in my world now where pixels come alive

Controller in hand, this is the place that I thrive

Connection binds us. Break me? You can't!

In this digital realm, my spirit will not recant

[Pixel Syndicate:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Pixel Syndicate shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Azusa:]

In the eye of the mind on the battlefield, focus is the key to victory

Samurai's cunning and wisdom, guiding me throughout history

With the great Tomoe Gozen's spirit, I strive to uphold

Living and dying, so their legacy remains bold

[Fleuret:]

In a world of greed and deceit, I stand with pride

Honor's my shield, with knights and majesty standing by my side

Heritage and art, woven in every rhyme I create

Upholding my legacy, through the sands of time, I navigate

[Eldrid:]

In the face of fear and doubt, courage must rise high

Valkyrie's spirit soaring beneath the endless sky

Managing fear with bravery's unwavering might

Fighting forward through the brightest day and the blackest night!

[Blade Maiden:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

Blade Maiden shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[SOUR BOMB:]

Get ready for the blast, everybody!

[Tetsuya:]

The BOMB's here, causing chaos steady

[Min:]

With style and flair, we light up the night

[Minato:]

In this dystopian world, we shine so bright

[Tetsuya:]

Min, Minato, are you ready to ignite?

[Min & Minato:]

Yeah, we're ready, with courage in sight

[Tetsuya:]

Defeat is always in our grasp?

That's the biggest misconception!

[Min:]

Reality's an illusion, but we make it real

[Minato:]

Prepare your hearts for the explosion

[SOUR BOMB:]

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce, make it bounce, bounce

SOUR BOMB shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

[Akihisa:]

From the deepest shadows emerges a force so dark

Bound together by chains, we ignite the loud spark

In this twisted world, we bring not order but chaos

No mercy for the wicked, prepare yourselves for Katsushika

From the shadows, Azrael’s scythe will reap all

[Touya:]

Sweetheart’s blade strikes out like (Slash! Slash! Slash!)

[Rintaro:]

For your fucking sins and terror, the goddamn Bomber will end you now!

[Akari:]

In the flames of hell, Cinder's wrath will burn you all down

[Akihisa:]

Trapped in bondage, but still we rise

[Touya:]

You lose, no savior

[Rintaro:]

Will you face your doom or beg for mercy?

[Akari:]

What will it be? Now choose your fate

[Death Row Block:]

Bounce ba-ba bounce

Death Row Block shakes the stage and makes it bounce, bounce!

(Welcome to the division, a line-up full of icons)

[Azusa:]

Balance the world with a warrior's fight

[Anika:]

Watch this trio light up the night

[Ryūzō:]

Shadows will consume the light

[Sayaka:]

Unveil the secrets hidden in plain sight

[Ryuko:]

Unleash chaos with every beat

[Aranai:]

The flames of the uprise ignite the street

[DekaDynasty:]

Hypnosis Mic, activated

It resounds--bang a gong

Unrivaled rhyme and flow

A last chapter for this revolt of words

(Battle of Pride)

[Chorus:]

Let's start this showtime

Sparks flying in this fight

Do not cross, out of control

We're locking it down

Bounce, bounce, make it bounce

Make it bounce, bounce

Scorching the floor with one verse

(Battle of Pride)

Proving we’re alive

No way we're afraid

Writing our own legend

We’re snagging our glory here

Bounce bounce make it bounce

Make it bounce bounce

Bet your everything and survive

The rule is just to

Bounce bounce bounce

It's kill or be killed so

Bounce bounce bounce

The rule is just to

Bounce bounce bounce

It's kill or be killed so

Bounce bounce bounce

Battle of Pride

Battle of Pride!

@suginami-division @minato-division01 @saitama-division @sendaidivision @naradivision

@akihabara-division03 @taito-division @kagoshima-division @katsushika-division

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goatcheesecak3 · 1 year ago

Text

Bus stop Pt. 5

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x F!reader

M!reader version will be out in the next few days :^)

Includes: brief mentions of past violence, allusion to ptsd/trauma, fluff, angsty themes

Summary: after much persuasion, Adam starts going to therapy. After a few sessions he's ready to face one of his biggest fears.

Adam and y/n sat in the waiting room of the therapist's office. The couple had been together for six months now, and y/n, who had always proudly gone to and advocated for therapy her whole life, had finally convinced Adam to make an appointment. This was y/n's regular therapist, Dr Luther Graham, a grey haired man in his sixties. He was exactly what you would picture if you imagined santa claus working a day job, a plump and rosy cheeked man with a long snowy white beard stuffed into a suit and suspenders. He was the sort of person anyone would feel safe talking to, which is why y/n was so sure that Adam would benefit from a session with him. Of course Adam, who was skeptical about therapy as a whole, was reluctant to pay him a visit, and only conceded that he would be willing to give therapy a try if y/n promised to go with him.

The waiting room felt like a living room from the sixties, with brown walls, art deco chairs (which looked fun, but weren't the most comfortable), and yellow mood lighting. The room felt welcoming, but in a clinical way, as though it was an alien's perception of what a human home was supposed to feel like, Adam supposed. The brown walls were adorned with certificates and plaques boasting Dr Graham's qualifications. Adam assumed that these were meant to inspire confidence in patients that this was a legitimate doctor who knew what he was doing, but for him they only reminded him of his own lack of high school diploma.

Adam's fingers were entangled with y/n's as the pair sat quietly, waiting to be called into the office. He suddenly felt a small squeeze on his hand, and turned to look at y/n.

"You're biting at your lip again, sweetie" she whispered, "what's wrong?"

Adam shook his head

"Just... this is all kinda new to me"

Y/n gave him a sympathetic smile

"Doctor Graham is lovely, I promise, you don't need to be frightened. If you really don't like it once we get in there, we can go straight home, but you'll be so proud of yourself for at least giving it a try"

Adam smiled weakly, and held y/n's hand tighter.

A wooden door creaked open, and out popped a smiling Doctor Graham's head.

"You must be Adam" he beamed, "come on in, I'm sure y/n's already told you about how this all works"

Adam shot y/n a terrified look.

"Oh, Doctor Graham, Adam was hoping I would be able to come in with him for his first session, just to make him feel more safe" y/n said calmly

"That's absolutely fine, whatever makes you most comfortable, Adam" Dr Graham smiled.

In the office were two sofas facing eachother, one which seated Doctor Graham, the other Adam and y/n. The silence was punctuated only by the ticking of an ancient looking grandfather clock, until Dr Graham spoke.

"So Adam, why don't you start by telling me a bit about yourself?

Adam turned to look at y/n, almost for approval. His eyes were asking "can I trust him? Can I tell him about me?"

"Go on, sweetheart, you don't need to be afraid" y/n encouraged him.

Adam let out a deep breath and began to speak.

"My name is Adam, I'm twenty-six and I'm a photographer. Oh, and I was kidnapped by a serial killer a few months back" he scoffed, in that familiar unserious tone.

It wasn't that Adam took what he went through lightly, quite the opposite in fact, it was just that he could only even begin to broach the subject in a jokey manner or else he'd begin to spiral.

"Would you care to elaborate on that last point for me, Adam?" Doctor Graham enquired.

"I don't really like talking about it" Adam replied.

"I understand that, not wanting to talk about a traumatic event isn't unusual. But I'm certain you often think about what you endured. Perhaps you might find some comfort in articulating those thoughts out loud, Adam. Legally I can't tell anyone about what's said in this room, so it would be just as private as your thoughts, only this way you get some advice in return" Dr Graham said.

Adam stared at his feet and considered what the doctor had said. If he was being honest with himself, it sounded like a good deal, but he was still unsure.

"You know, Adam," y/n said, "maybe you'd feel like you could talk more freely if I stepped outside? People tend to get the most out of therapy when they have privacy"

Adam shook his head

"No, I can't do this without you, don't leave" his voice had a tinge of desperation to it, and his grip on her hand tightened, something which Doctor Graham seemed to pick up on.

"You've made it clear that you feel safer in y/n's company, why is that, Adam? Enlighten me" he asked.

Adam let out a deep breath that he didn't know he was holding.

"Y/n takes care of me and we love eachother, why wouldn't I want her to stay?"

"Well that makes sense, but judging from your reaction when you thought she might leave the room, perhaps it's less to do with you feeling comforted by her presence, but moreso afraid of her absence. Tell me, Adam, have you experienced any significant abandonment in your life?"

Adam was absolutely floored by this, Doctor Graham seemed to be able to read him like a book. His bit his lip and stared at the floor, his body tense and uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat.

"I suppose you could say that, yeah... when I was being held captive there was this doctor who was being held with me, he managed to escape and he said he'd get help but the asshole never came back."

His voice was laced with anger and hurt.

"Thank you for sharing that, Adam, I know that must have been difficult for you" Dr Graham said, "is the fear of abandonment a regular thought for you?"

Adam nodded

"I try not to let it get to me but... I don't know, I guess it's something I worry about a lot"

The conversion got a lot deeper over the hour long session, Adam opened up about his time spent in the bathroom, about how he was scared of the dark and how the sound of metal clanging put him straight back in that room. And of course, how bathrooms as a whole were something he did his best to avoid, only showering if he really had to. Dry shampoo and deodorant had been his best friends for the last few months.

"Well, that about wraps it up for today's session. Well done for being so candid and honest Adam, I hope you'll benefit from this"

"Um... thanks" Adam bit his fingernail nervously, but managed a small smile. He really was proud of himself.

"Do you think maybe... I could book another one of these? For like next week or something?" He asked shyly.

"Of course, I'm very glad you've found this helpful" Doctor Graham beamed, "I'll book you in for the same time next week?"

...

Later that day, y/n was over at Adam's apartment folding up some of his clothes and putting them away, while Adam sat on the bed bundled up with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He had been feeling somewhat vulnerable after opening up and reliving his trauma earlier on, so he was enjoying being babied a bit. Y/n had made him a warm mug of tea and taken care of any chores he needed doing around the apartment, just to give him some time to recover.

Although Adam did indeed look adorable all wrapped up, he was beginning to smell... ripe was the kind way to put it.

"Sweetheart?" Y/n asked

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, about not liking bathrooms... and I was wondering if I could help you with that?"

Adam froze, his entire body tense and immediately afraid.

"Only if and when you're comfortable, maybe I could run you a bath and I'll get in with you, to make sure you know you're not on your own?"

Adam bit his lip and looked away, embarrassed.

Of course he wanted that in theory, sharing a relaxing bath with his beautiful girlfriend was any man's dream, but the reality? He was frightened. He could barely take a two minute shower, let alone a full bath.

"You don't have to make any decisions yet, but when you're ready I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?" Y/n said, her voice soft and gentle, as though she were worried that she may scare him away.

Adam nodded, and retreated further into his blanket, feeling uneasy at the prospect of taking a bath.

"Oh sweetheart, come here" y/n said lovingly, taking a seat beside him and wrapping her arms around him, "I don't care how long it takes, I'm never giving up on you baby"

She pressed a kiss into Adam's temple, as his body relaxed and fell into her, clinging onto her tshirt tightly.

...

A week later, Adam was due to stay at y/n's house overnight. He'd had an appointment with Doctor Graham earlier on in the day, alone this time, and had reached the conclusion that he was ready to tackle his fear of bathrooms. He was terrified, but he knew it was time. He texted y/n.

Adam: I think I want to try having a bath

Y/n: sweetheart, I'm so proud of you! Do you want to try at my place tonight?

Adam: yeah, I think I do

But I'm still really nervous

I might chicken out at the last minute

Y/n: the fact that you're even considering it is such a huge step, well done baby :) how about when you come over, ill run you a bath and you can decide later if you think you're ready to get in. We'll take this at your pace, okay honey?

Adam: that sounds good. Thank you :)

Adam arrived at y/n's apartment feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He hated feeling so helpless, so vulnerable. He wanted nothing more than to overcome his fear, but it was difficult for him. Every thought in his brain was screaming at him to turn on his heels and run home, but he wanted to be brave, and he knocked on the door.

Y/n welcomed him in with a smile and a much needed hug, before escorting him to the sofa and placing an already made mug on hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of him. She'd made it just the way Adam liked, with marshmallows and lots of cream- he had a real sweet tooth.

"I know you're nervous, but I want you to know that you don't have to do this if you don't think you're ready. Just relax and enjoy your drink, no one's gonna be upset if you don't think you can do it yet" y/n cooed, sensing Adam's fear before he had even spoke.

"Thank you" he smiled weakly, "I was thinking, maybe we could start with me just standing in the doorway to the bathroom, and I can watch while you run the bath? Just to get myself prepared?"

Y/n felt her heart ache. She was so proud of her sweet boy for being so brave, he really was trying, but it just killed her to see him so scared. Something so small, just being in a bathroom made this grown man tremble with fear like a beaten dog. She silently cursed the name jigsaw for doing this to such a sweet man.

"Alright sweetheart, if you think that might help" she replied, wiping a small bit of hot chocolate off of the corner of Adam's mouth, making him chuckle slightly.

Adam finished his drink, and hesitantly followed y/n to her bathroom. It was a simple room, not much that was worthy of note, but one thing which comforted Adam was the cleanliness of it all. No dirt, no grime, it even had a light floral smell emanating from a bowl of potpourri on the windowsill.

He stood in the doorway to the room, hugging himself and watching longingly as his girlfriend fearlessly entered the room. He wished that he could do that too.

"Alright, babe, I'm gonna turn the tap on now, I'll make sure we get the bath nice and warm okay?"

Adam couldn't speak

"Look, I've even got some bubblebath to try and make it feel a bit less serious" she comforted, showing a bottle of lavender scented bubblebath to him.

"O.. okay" Adam nodded.

As the minutes went by, Adam watched as the tub filled up, and the time to actually enter the room drew closer. With every passing second his heartbeat grew stronger, until he swore he could practically taste his pulse. He swallowed a lump that seemed to be forming in his throat and bit his lip, like he always did when he was anxious.

"Are you ready?" Y/n's voice interrupted his train of thought.

Adam shook his head, "I don't ever think I'll be ready" he laughed wearily, trying not to let himself spiral. Despite the way he felt, Adam began to get undressed, pushing through his fear as best as he could.

Y/n had removed her clothes as well and was ready to get into the bath.

"You wanna do this together?" She asked, holding her hand out for Adam to take it. His own hand trembled like a leaf, he breathed heavily through his nose, as he shut his eyes and took a step forward into the bathroom.

"Well done, sweetheart, you're doing so well"

He flinched slightly as his bare feet touched the cold tile ground, a feeling he knew all too well, but soon his feet found themselves on a soft and fluffy bathmat, and his fears depleted.

Stood next to the bath, hand in hand with y/n, Adam stared down into the water. The last time he'd been in a bath was when he had woken up in one, fully clothed, freezing and shackled to a pipe. This was nothing like that, he thought. The water looked warm and enticing, almost welcoming.

"You don't have to if you don't want-"

"No." Adam cut y/n off, "I need to do this. I.. I don't want to be scared anymore"

His words sounded confident, but his voice trembled. Tightening his grip on y/n's hand, he stepped into the water.

Y/n stepped in with him, her soft hands making their way around his body, holding him in a tight hug.

"Baby, I'm so proud of you" she whispered, kissing his cheek.

Adam gulped, he could feel his breaths becoming shallow, but he knew it was now or never.

"If.. if I sit down will you hold me?" He asked, his lips quivering

"Of course honey, I'll even wash your hair for you" y/n replied, her voice calm and reassuring. Everything about her brought Adam peace, she was his personal sanctuary. If she was with him, he could do anything.

With a deep breath, Adam sat down in the bath, leaning back into y/n's chest and letting the warm water run over his body. Y/n was hugging him tightly from behind, placing gentle kisses into the crook of his neck.

"So brave, I'm so proud of you honey"

Adam relaxed into her touch. He didn't say much, just allowed himself to feel her loving hands all over him. The way they carefully massaged his scalp with a sweet smelling shampoo, the way they gently caressed his bullet wound, accompanied by whispers of how handsome he was. An endless string of "I love you" and "I'm so proud of you" was all Adam could hear, not the sound of cold, damp dripping, the rattling of chains, or even his own thoughts. Unbelievably, he felt perfectly calm.

Once the bath was over, Adam got changed into a pair of pyjamas that y/n had bought specifically for when he stayed over. Snuggled up in bed together, he felt a sense of hope for the first time in a while. He was getting better, life was starting to be worth living.

A/n hello! Sorry this took so long to get out, I've had the flu and i haven't been able to write much without falling asleep lol. Sorry this isn't my best work, but I'm sure it's at least enjoyable! Also, I need Adam related suggestions because I'm feeling a bit lost for new ideas lately, so please leave a request! It can be something you might want to see in the bus stop series, or perhaps just a standalone fic with Adam, or some headcanons etc - anything really! I love getting requests :^)

Hope everyone is having a good new year so far! :^)

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #saw adam #adam faulkner #adam faulkner x reader #adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw fanfic #sawposting #x you #x reader #x yn #x f!reader #x female reader #fluff

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