Warnings: crying, screaming, reader tries fighting back, starvation (not to harm oneself but to get something out of the others), reader gets fed food by one of the MCs, a chapter about what Y/N is going through before it gets good.
Author Note: Please note that this is based on the mafia. A genre that is inherently romantic, but we should still look at real factors. As this is a love story but I am still adding real elements to this story. The reader is a curly-haired head. Please recognize that not everyone in this station would be able to think properly. Trust you probably wouldn't know what to do if the mafia kidnaped you, as I wouldn't know either. You were warned.
Song: Pretty Little Devil by Shaya Zamora
Chapter 3 / Chapter 5
It starts with a water droplet.
A soft and slow drip...drip...drip.
You’re aware of it before you’re aware of your body. Your eyes snap open. Facing a light too bright, so it took you a minute to get accustomed to it. Your head throbs with a dull, pulsing ache, and your mouth tastes dry. You try to move, but your limbs respond slowly, as if your body were a second behind you.
You take a slow, shaky breath.
Lying there for a couple of minutes to calm yourself down and regulate your body. Since you weren't ready to sit up, you gathered the strength to move your hands and scan your surroundings for anything. From what you could see, you were in a room with silky sheets. There were only a few pictures and perhaps a desk, and it wasn't particularly embellished.
You sat up slowly and painfully, taking another breath. You noticed two doors in front of you as you inspected the space—"possibly a bathroom and a closet". No one was in the room with you, and it was eerily quiet. Could hear anything from outside. It was just you and this blank room. When you tried moving your legs, you looked down to see that your left leg had been chained to the bedpost. Moving it around a bit to see if there was a way you could break it or remove it.
"Fuck. Ok, Y/N, think."
The last thing you remember is… what? A voice? A hand? The sharp pain of the glass? It’s all foggy now; memories from last night were just now memories too small to piece together. You didn't have much time to think before you heard a noise from outside the door. Then you heard heels clacking against the floor before they stopped. You moved across the bed as much as you could to see the shadow of someone's feet outside the door.
Then the door opened, and a maid walked in. She had the classical white and black dress on with loafers. She looked at you for a quick second before pulling in a cart that had food on it. "Hello. My name is Y/N. I-I'm sorry, but where am I?". She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t glance in your direction. Just walks across the room and sets the tray on a small table, within your reach.
"H-Hello ma'am. I know you hear me. Please, I need some help or at least some type of information." She doesn't say anything. instead of opening your trays and tidying up the room. Well, what she could tidy at least. "Listen, do you speak another language?" You said, trying to move your body the best you could to get her attention. You don't miss the side-eye she gives you. "Omg, you can't even speak. I'm asking for something." You said, getting louder this time.
As you watched her move around. You started thinking of the events. The people, the shooting, and him coming to your apartment.
Perhaps it was the ache in your brain, the chain around your leg, the events of the previous night, the faint echo of Jack's words, or the exhaustion of the previous week. However, you were becoming irritated.
*BANG*
*CLINK*
You had thrown the food and the trays across the room. You watched as the food went flying and the trays made a loud clink-clank noise as they died out before becoming still. You let a out a breath before making contact with the maid.
She pauses. She speeds up and walks back to the door. Her hand was on the doorframe. Her back is still to you.
“You’re not even going to look or make a face at me?” you snap. “What the hell is this place? And where the fuck am I?.”
She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t speak.
“Say something...anything!” you yell. “Tell me why I’m here. Tell me what you people want.”
Her head tilts, just slightly, like she heard you. But then she steps out. The door shuts behind her with a heavy, final thud.
Silence again.
You sat back in your position with a sigh. When you realized you were stuck, your eyes filled with tears. There was no one around to help you. Your own belief was even more agonizing.
Would anyone even notice that you had left?
*KEY'S RUMBLING*
You slowly blinked your eyes open. You could smell the delicious food as whoever had walked in with it. Once you realized that you had cried yourself to sleep, you sat up. Looking at another maid. Only it felt the same as before.
Same steps. Same cold, stone-face.
You notice that someone came in here to clean. The mess you once made was gone.
She doesn’t look at you as she enters. Doesn’t speak. Just carries in another tray. Carries a plate and a bowl of potato soup. A slice of bread with butter melting into it. The smell hits your nose and makes your stomach jump.
Maybe not eating earlier was a bad decision. But you needed to be strong. If you could get one of them to crack, then it would work.
You stare as she sets it down, again just within reach.
She turns to leave. Silent. Robotic.
“I’m not doing this again. You drop food like I’m some chained-up dog, and I’m just supposed to take it?”
She pauses, hand on the doorknob.
Still no answer.
"Don't have the decency to tell me hi or what's going on. I am the one in chains, not you." You yelled before she could walk out.
Your hand shoots out. With a swift, angry swipe of the tray, you yank it toward you and hurl it across the room.
The plate clatters off the nearest dresser. Food splatters against the dresser and the floor. A smear of potato juice lands on the maid’s dress. A piece of meat rolls to her feet. Finally, she looks at you.
Not startled. Not angry. Just a cold, assessing stare as if she’s looking through you.
“You all want to ignore me?” you shout. “Fine. But you’re not going to treat me like I don’t exist. I’m not some animal you toss scraps to. I want answers."
She brushes a bit of potato off her apron. Then walks over to the mess, picks up the plate, and sets it back on the tray, calmly. She doesn’t clean the floor. Doesn’t reply. Just turns and walks out.
The door shuts.
And you’re left with the sound of your own furious breathing in the silence.
This went on for another day.
It seems like you had been dissociating for years. Considering the homeless man, your mother, school, and job. In fact, you had more time to consider Jack. The one person you don't want to think about.
After cleaning and providing more meals, a second maid had arrived. You let the food sit there and get cold, but you didn't toss it at the wall. You had to defend yourself and at least get someone to tell you something.
You waited and waited before you heard someone else coming. This time it wasn't heels, but a man's footsteps. You felt anxiety flowing through your veins. "Maybe they sent someone to get a little rougher." You thought. As you watched, they stopped in front of the door and made their way in.
You were shocked to see a handsome man walk in. He had a muscular build to him, tall around 6 ft, with dark olive hair and matching eye color. All he did was stare at you, then at the food, then back at you. He let out a sigh that seemed like irritation?
"How is he irritated. I'm the one they kidnapped."
He stalks closer to you. The more he moved, the more you scurried back as far as your chain would let you. He stopped once get got closer to the food.
"Not going to throw it at me, are you?"
Silence.
He tilted his head to the side, waiting for a response.
All you did was shake your head no.
"Good cause, starving yourself. It isn't going to help the situation. Got it?"
You shook your head yes. "Girl, stand the hell up."
"Every bite you take. I'll give you more information."
He sat down on the bed, scooting closer to you and the food. He took the spoon of the same damn potato soup. Scooping up a spoonful and grabbing your jaw so you could open your mouth and eat. "My name is Wakatoshi Ushijima. You're in a guest room as of right now. Till we move back to the safe house." He said, grabbing another spoonful.
Every time he fed you, to made sure you were not going to throw the food. he watched intently to make sure you swallowed. "We both know what you saw that night. And the one who came into your house was Kenma Kozume. Little sneak and tech of the group."
He brought another bite to your mouth, but you moved away. Indicating that you were done.
He dropped the spoon back into the bowl and moved the food to the desk. He got up and began walking to the door. "Wait," you said, moving towards the edge of the bed. He paused and turned to look at you. "H-how many are there of you and what do you guys plan to do with me?".
"Look-"
"When can I get out of this chain. You guys can't keep me in here forever," you said in a quickness. Not letting him finish his sentence.
"We can do what we want to do. I'm not the one who is throwing food all over the place like a child. The maid has strict orders not to talk. Maybe next time you will get more if they weren't so nervous that you were going to throw a pan at them."
You froze at his wording. Frustration building up in your throat.
"I'm not the one who said to kidnap me and force me to be chained to a bed. And I did not throw pans at them. I would be nice if they could talk or at least smile," you yelled at him. Tears pricking your waterline.
"Good night, Y/N. You will see us shortly." He said before leaving and locking the door.
You sat back into a sleeping position and cried when he left. The only question ringing in your head.
Warnings: one slap, crying, screaming, yes, the reader does do the basic 101 dumb move in a horror movie, bleeding, drugging, kidnapping, rug burn (lol), rough grabbing + dragging, pet names, SHORT CHAPTER.
Author Note: Please note that this is based on the mafia. A genre that is inherently romantic, but we should still look at real factors. As this is a love story but I am still adding real elements to this story. The reader is a curly-haired head. Please recognize that not everyone in this station would be able to think properly. Trust you probably wouldn't know what to do if the mafia were in your house, as I wouldn't know either. You were warned.
Song: Rhinestone Eyes by Gorillaz
Chapter 2/ Chapter 4
You whirled and raced for the bedroom. You rounded past the kitchen counter, throwing him off and knocking things off the counter to knock him down.
Your hand was inches from the doorknob when you felt a sharp, excruciating tug on your hair. He had you by the curls and dragged you to the floor. He hauled you back into the middle of the hallway, preparing to drag you through the glass. You cried out when you felt glass bits in your back.
You started screaming.
kicked.
thrashed.
Once you realized how far away you were from the entrance and down the corridor. You were scared of what would happen.
He carried you across the bedroom floor and returned to the small chair in your room. The carpeting felt like it was burning your flesh, and seeing the blood on the floor wasn't helpful. Your pleas were loud, yet no one arrived. You knew no one was coming.
He put you in the chair as if you were weightless. A feather. You screamed again before feeling a sharp pain on your cheek.
You sought to hide yourself deeper into the couch, using your curls to conceal your face and tears. Sobbing silently because you knew screaming wouldn't help. The slap represented a warning.
You heard him reach inside his pocket for something. You gently, but quickly, looked up at him and saw he never lost contact with you.
"This'll help both of us, pretty," he murmured. "Just stay still."
Panic swept through you. You began kicking at him and yelling louder in an attempt to escape from him. Out of the chair, out of the room, and out of this nightmare. You were able to kick him to the ground and run towards the door.
You didn't get far before he tripped you and fell flat on your face. The pain is rushing through your body, with nowhere else to hide. You were stranded.
Stuck with a random man. That was part of the crime scene a week ago.
You could hear him scoff. "Not gonna make it easy, huh?"
He turned you back to face him in one motion. He grabbed you by the shoulders and made you sit up. He put one of his hands to your throat and exerted pressure.
You felt your airway being restricted and your eyeballs popping out of your head.
You scratched at his arms and face. You gasped for oxygen, but nothing came. Your vision began to blur. Tears flowed. You felt weak in your arms and as if your strength had diminished. The room began to swirl. You could only watch in horror as he pulled out a syringe.
Using his mouth to remove the cap.
Moving his hand from your neck. You gasped for air and tried to move back from him. He followed your action and whispered to you, "It will be quick, I promise," he said before sticking the drug-filled syringe into your neck.
The room started to spin more. You felt your body getting heavier even as you tried to escape. The lights in the room started to dim, and you couldn't feel pain anymore.
Trying to stand up and being a successful before you fell back again.
The last thing you remember was falling into his arms and hearing, "Goodnight, Pretty."
Then it was lights out.
??? POV:
Laying her down on the bed. Taking a breather. "Wow she did put up a fight."
Sitting down on this little ass chair. I called my boss while lighting a smoke. I should be sleeping right now. Not dealing with this bullshit at 2 AM.
*ring* *ring*
"Hello"
"I got her. She put up a little fight, but I was able to put her to sleep."
"Good. Go ahead bring her to the main house."
"Got it".
With that, I hung up and started to carry her back to my car.
"Can't wait for you to wake up. Wonder what hell you put the bosses through."
Continuing to walk to the car with her, it was funny to me why the boss didn't want to kill her.
Author Note: This is a little wip or just writing because I'm trying to get back into writing. THIS WILL NOT BE THE BEST, but I'm doing this to get in the move of things. This is a lyrical wip
Author note pt 2: Italic and bold mean saying out loud, and just bold means thoughts
Warnings: Creepy, not proofread at all, made this in like a 3 hours, lyrical wip, cussing, bleeding, inner dialogue, murder, implied kidnapping, a kiss, tears, based on the song and horror movies, implied wounds, and murder weapons. You have been warned and now read at your own risk!
Breathing in the dark, lying on its side
The ruins of the day painted with a scar
And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try
The feelings start to rot, one wink at a time
You have been hiding under the house for about 20 minutes now. Trying to calm down and breathe quietly was difficult enough, plus hearing their footsteps and a scream in the house.
That could be Emma or Yochi. "How many of them were left inside?".
It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was just a sleepover, and all you and your friends wanted to do was have fun. How the fuck they got here without being known. You don't know.
"I have to get out. I need to get out," you told yourself, trying to see if you could see any of them outside.
Oh-oh, forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain
Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away
When you get out of bed, don't end up stranded
Horrified with each stone on the stage, my little dark age
Picking through the cards, knowing what's nearby
You were looking around outside and spotted Lori's keys in the grass, shining in the moonlight. This could be a way out, and you weren't going to risk it. 4 miles before you meet the next person, "it will be shorter in the car." You started to slowly crawl out, and once you realized it was safe, you took off running.
Grabbing the keys from the grass spot, you turned to the cars, and once you spotted Lori's, you ran. Knowing you have to be quick because they could hear the noise of the car being unlocked and turned on, you wasted no time.
Getting in and immediately locking the car door and pushing the start button. "YES YES," thinking you were in the clear, but the moment was short-lived when the car started to make noise and wouldn't turn on.
"No, no, no no. Please don't do this to me. No no". You kept saying while trying to turn the car on. Wanting to be safe, you decided to get out of the car and make your way to the back of it. "If they come, I have to run."
You sat in the car, looking around outside. It's quiet. Too quiet.
The carvings on the face say they find it hard
And the engine's failed again, all limits of disguise
The humor's not the same, coming from denial
You leaned back against the car, trying to stay low, invisible. No car. No phone. The rest of the keys were inside the house...inside with them.
You didn't know what to do. Panic crawled up your throat. Then you heard it: a whistle. Low. A sound too casual for a night like this. Then another joined in. Then a third.
You risked a glance from your hiding spot. Four of them were on the porch now, standing on the porch as if they belonged there. Talking. Watching.
All wearing black. Masks. Blood was smeared across their clothes. your friend’s blood. Their bullies. You ducked back down behind the car. You wanted to scream, cry, run, something, but you were frozen.
Every thought tunneled into one desperate thought: Get home. Forget this night. Pretend it never happened.
Laughter rang out from the porch. Two of them were smoking like they were at a party. The other two leaned on the railing, chuckling like they were swapping jokes.
You bit your tongue to keep from throwing up. "How could they laugh?"
You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to breathe. Tried to think. There had to be another way out. Somewhere to run, someone to call, but your brain was drowned in fear.
Then a sound. a click.
Could it be their lighter? A gun?
You peeked again. One of them had stepped off the porch. Slowly. Still watching.
Oh-oh, I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange
I know that if you hide, it doesn't go away
If you get out of bed and find me standing all alone
Open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age
I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange
You know that if it hides, it doesn't go away
If I get out of bed, you'll see me standing all alone
Horrified on the stage, my little dark age
Maybe you should run now. Maybe this is your last chance.
They might’ve seen the car move. Might’ve seen you peek. Might be coming this way; to check, to finish, to kill.
You peeked again. The whole group was with them now. Just hanging around the porch. Laughing. Lounging. Relaxed, like they hadn’t just left your friends in pieces. "Remember, Y/N, those were their bullies. The ones who bullied them relentlessly."
You turned back toward the field. The sob started in your chest but didn’t make it out.
You should’ve stayed upstairs. Should’ve pretended you never heard the screaming, the crash, never saw blood. Should’ve just waited until they were done or grabbed a phone to call the police.
But you didn’t. You saw them. You saw what they did. You hid. And now you’re here. Hiding. Cornered. Maybe the last one is left. The last one they need.
You looked at the dark stretch of field behind the house. Your breath caught in your throat. "Maybe I can run. Maybe I can make it to the next neighbor." You crouched low, barefoot in the grass, body trembling. You got into position. Your heart pounded in your ears, louder than any of their whistles or laughter.
Giddy with delight, seeing what's to come
The image of the dead, dead ends in my mind
Taking another breath. 1. 2 "NO." You were about to run when you heard a loud cry. You turned around and spotted your friend, Journee. On the ground, begging for her life. You could tell they had caught her a few times by her wounds. She was still able to flee.
"Do something." You kept telling yourself. "PLEASE. I'm sorry. I am really sorry, and I regret everything I have said." They were simply just watching her. Not saying anything. Journee had stopped yelling when she realized they weren't coming. And began running again. Straight to where you are.
You just saw her sprint at you. preparing to accompany her on a run. With two girls shouting and running around wildly, it's more difficult. Perhaps the neighbors would also hear. There was a slam on the ground as you retreated into position.
You noticed her looking to your left. You saw knives near her neck and on her back. She was on the ground, gurgling in front of you and flinching. She became silent and still.
You were incapable of thinking. You felt as though you were out of breath. To kill her, they didn't even have to move.
There is no escaping.
Policemen swear to God, love seeping from their guns
I know my friends and I would probably turn and run
If you get out of bed, come find us heading for the bridge
Bring a stone, all the rage, my little dark age
I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange
I know that if you hide, it doesn't go away
If you get out of bed and find me standing all alone
Open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age
As you crawled over to Journee, you began to weep. No longer giving a damn that they can see you. You completely collapsed after you got closer, Journee.
From your throat came a scream. There was no use in remaining quiet. There was no hope of survival, and no one was coming. You looked over at them. You used to laugh and embrace these same guys and girls.
"Why...why would you guys do this?" You raged at them. while they continued to gaze.
Why just why? I thought you guys were all over it. All these years...why now?". You said quietly, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.
"Why, simply why? You people seemed to be all over it, I thought. After all these years, why now?" You spoke softly while making every effort to maintain eye contact with him.
He leaned down to your level and scanned you. "Indeed, I assumed you would run. The Y/N I was familiar with years ago would have run." You could feel his deep voice pounding through you.
That made you cry even more, and you turned your head away. He grabbed your jaw to stop you. making you turn to face him. "You were aware, sweetheart. When we asked where you were going to be this weekend, everyone returned to town. Love, you recognized something was wrong."
"It's why you went upstairs when the lights went out, and that's why you hid when you could've grabbed Shay's phone from her pocket. You saw it and simply ignored it."
You simply gazed at him while the tears continued to stream. This was the moment he had been waiting for. This was the moment they had all been craving. How could you have ever imagined that this situation wouldn't have turned out badly? How foolish of you.
He got closer to you, kissed your temple, and then whispered in your ear. "I'm pleased to have my baby back. I believed I had lost you to those bitches forever.
He got back up, smiled at you, and took zip locks out of his back pocket. When you recognized what was going on, you felt the panic returning. You began to crawl backwards, pleading with him to stop.
With their masks on and their smiles on their faces, the group began to circle around you, staring down at you. There was no running.
You were correct. There is no way out.
All alone, open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age
Thank you for reading, and hopefully, I will get into the grind of things!! LOVE YALL!!!
im starting another mafia series with AOT but like oc type?! bc i can't get this out of my head nor can I get CONNIE out of my HEAD so im just going to start it.
I have to even if i just read it. At least i can give myself a story to read.
Warnings: LOTS OF DIALOGUE, reader not being able to process dangerous situations, glass breaking, alcoholic drink (wine), sleep deprivation talk, paranoia, stuttering, reader does throw up, talks of murder, reader might be going crazy, mentions murder, cussing, crying, implied panic attacks, inner thoughts, has an argument with the homeless dude, cliffhanger.
Author Note: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU FIND DETAILING BORING AND DIALOGUE. This chapter ends in a cliffhanger. Bold means speaking, and bold + italic is inner thoughts.
Song: Transgender by Crystal Castles
Chapter 1 / Chapter 3
You waited a bit longer before getting up and walking to the window. Peering outside, you tried to see if anything or anyone was still out there. But there was nothing. Not the group...not even a body. "What the fuck" you muttered. How could they move a body that fast without a single trace?
Feeling nauseous and panicked. You backed away from the window. Grabbing your phone off the living room table, you rushed out of your apartment, running down the stairs as you dialed your bsf. "Come pick up. Pick up. Please pick up." You said as you made your way to the back door. Deciding if you should go back there.
"Hello bestieeee! Whatcha doing, girl? I'm so sorry we haven't talked in a while; these kids, I tell you, are a lot," she said. "Look, I think a guy got shot, but whoever shot him has left, and I think they took his body. I'm about to go look," you said in a rapid voice. Making your way outside. "Wait, what. What are you talking about, Y/N? Do not go outside what the fuck. Call 911 or a non-emergency number. Hello...Y/N."
Looking around nothing. Not single trace of anything.
"Nev-Nevermind. I have to go, goodnight, and tell the kids goodnight." You hung up before she said anything.
You stood frozen for a moment, looking around. Not a single person in sight. Not a single car. No sound besides the crickets outside. How the hell could everything be gone so quickly?
I know what I saw.
Your stomach started hurting, and your mouth started filling with saliva. Jogging the way over to the trash cans and bending over. Throwing up.
*cough* *cough*
Wiping the sound of your mouth, you glanced up and saw something. Someone. Across the street. Near the park.
Starting to back up. You turned around fast and ran right into someone. Screaming, you kicked and swung your arms like a madman. Too paranoid to think straight.
"Y/N, QUIT KICKING ME! WHAT IS WRONG?" a familiar voice yelled at you. Recognize that voice you stopped. It was just the homeless guy whom you saw earlier this night. "Oh my fucking--I thought you were a murdered. You scared the shit outta of me," you said, putting a hand over your chest and taking deep breaths. Once collecting yourself, you got straight to the point.
"Did you hear any gunshots or a loud bang?", you asked
"Yeah, I did."
"Did you see anyone? A group of people walking in or out of the alleyway?"
"Nah. I just got here, and you hear a bunch of gunshots during this time of night," he said, "I mean, look around. I'm shocked if there isn't a night with gunshots."
"I understand, but I swear I saw a guy being shot back here. There was... a large group of them," you grumbled, your eyes welling up with tears and frustration. "And a guy is watching us from across the street," you remarked, shifting your body to draw his attention.
When he did, he looked around with a puzzled expression. "There is no guy across the street." Turning rapidly back to face the street. He was correct. There's no guy across the street.
"I-no there was-omg." You sighed before looking back at him.
"You know, Y/N, I've known you for a long time, and you're always like this. Perhaps you're just having a terrible night. You seem exhausted, and aren't you a nurse?" He stated this while looking you up and down. "Sleep deprivation?" Anxiety?". He started laying out other possibilities to justify the situation.
You stared at him. Could he be correct?
"Are you serious right now?" I just stated someone could have been shot, and now you're telling me I'm a mess and potentially sleep-deprived." You said, waving your hands. "And, yeah, I'm aware of sleep deprivation and anxiety. No, I do not have sleep deprivation."
Take another breath to calm yourself down. "Go to bed, Y/N," he complained, heading deeper into the alley. You roll your eyes and glance back at the street.
You turned and returned to your apartment.
Inside your living room, something felt...off. Like something was misplaced or someone was in here. Deciding to ignore it and stomped your way back to the room.
Lying down, and after what felt like forever, you were able to fall asleep.
It has been nearly a week since that. You filed a police report about the gunshots and another about the homeless man. You have not seen him in a week, which is not typical. However, both cases were dismissed and not addressed.
Even in your apartment. It was still off. Things were being arranged differently, and windows were occasionally being unlocked even though you were certain you had locked them.
The event kept replaying in your head, making it hard to do anything. Jack was still trying to talk and get you to open up to him. No work was getting done, and isolating in your bed kept calling your name. You needed a break, and luckily, Friday was a day off for you.
On Thursday after work, you arrived at the apartment happy because you knew you could do whatever you wanted. Cleaning and cleansing.
While taking a bath, you may felt as if you were hearing things being moved or someone moving around the place. Simply assuming it was a figment of your imagination and returning to bathe while listening to your music. When the temperature turned cold, you got out and changed.
Going back to the living room to watch a movie and drink wine. Sitting down, suddenly you heard an awful smashing sound from your bedroom.
Getting up slowly from your seat and looking to the side to see whether or not anyone was there. Only a frame piece had fallen to the floor. You felt like your heart was pounding out of your chest. "Hello." You paused to see if anyone was there. Looking over at the TV stand, you took the small glass tulip lamp in your hands.
Y/N, you are just paranoid. Calm down.
As you gazed back down into the hallway, you felt as if your world had come to a full stop. Your heart was definitely out of your chest now.
Seeing a towering, muscular guy standing in your bedroom doorway.
They were silent. watching everything.
Tears welled up. Your chest clenched. The lamp felt light in your hands until you heard it tumble to the floor. Breaking into shards. Never looked down.
"You know," he finally said. You widen your eyes, dreading what he was about to say. "Most people switch to fight or flight mode. "I thought you'd be a fighter," he grumbled as you watched, his head looking down at the smashed lamp before returning to you.
You felt more icy than a popsicle.
You could not scream. Could not run. You felt cornered, but you were not. You first looked at the kitchen, then at the wall that separated it from the front door.
Read before looking: I haven't been active or been writing due to a lack of motivation. I've been prioritizing other things but slowly getting back into writing and wanting to read again. This post is just helping me with motivation <3. Sorry if it doesn't fit the standards.
Shel's PS: THIS IS WHAT I PERSONALLY IMAGINE....IF YOU DON'T THEN THAT IS OK. (When writing this I realized that the pictures aren't exactly what I imagine, but based around it. Also most if not then all of these are also based on "blah blah x black reader" or "blah blah x Asian reader".
This AU is heavily controversial since some agree that it's romanticizing toxic relationships and some don't. Personally, I have been in toxic relationships and some weird way fics like these are comforting to an extent. Toxic and possessiveness is not fun in real life.
What I imagine:
-------------------------------------
.) Older bf x college reader
I love college AU!! My favorite especially if it's comfort fic. I feel as if this AU is on the sweeter side with little smut. Older bf can be like the professor or in general. I got into this AU because of older Geto or Satoru.
(The girls in the fics are also becoming nurses or lawyers)
.) Punk/skater bf x soft reader
As a soft girly myself, I'm more attracted to my polar opposite which is rough?? (idk) so i like reading fics about it. punk bf is either in a gang or smokes weed and skips school. Sometimes toxic as well.
What I imagine:
-------------------------------------
.) Street racer bf x street racer gf
I BARLEY SEE ANY OF THESE FICS!! PLS I'M BEGGING ATP I LOVE THESE.
What I imagine:
-------------------------------------
but like imagine Y/N being the flag girl and that's how she meets whatever character....New series???
I get myself so hype to make different fics and post which then causes me to not make them...im confused. I barely begun writing and now im tired and want to stop lol
Read before looking: I haven't been active or writing due to a lack of motivation. I've been having to prioritize other things, but slowly getting back into writing and wanting to read again. This post is just helping me with motivation <3
Shel's PS: THIS IS WHAT I IMAGINE....IF YOU DON'T THEN THAT IS OK. When writing this I realized these aren't exactly what I imagine, but based around it. Most if not then all of these are also based on "blah blah x black reader" or "blah blah x Asian reader".
This AU (from the ones I have seen) either are with nerd readers or spoiled princess readers. There are probably more, but I think these are the most common.
What I imagine: Nerd ver.
-------------------------------------
What I imagine: Spoiled Princess ver.
-------------------------------------
.) Sugar Daddy x Sugar baby reader
The AU for this is one of my favorites because every fic I've seen has always made sure that the sugar daddy is still nice and respectful.
What I imagine:
-------------------------------------
*Forgot there was a limit for pictures so I will do a part 2*
————————————————
Thank you for reading 🩷Give me your opinion on it! Have a good life
Bro just imagine getting railed to Haunted by Beyoncé BUTTTT it’s the good part!!! Fucking your favorite character, crush, or partner 😝 PLSSSSS I NEED SOMEONE
theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
tangentwithtanner
dededos
titsay
origamiaround
gummygunk
