[pickledturnips]

Masterlist

*My requests are OPEN, please send me stuff Im begging*

Adrian Chase x reader:

The Visitor Series - Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4

--- Heavy Angst, Eating Disorders, Unrequited Love, Childhood best friends to lovers, Stalking, Perv! Adrian, Chubby!Insecure!Depressed!Virgin!Reader.

Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader:

Down in a Hole

—— Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Incel!Virgin!Stalker!Switch!Jimmy, Readers into it.

[rottenbites]

CHAINS OF LOVE

CHAPTER ONE: SER MARK MULLENDORE

PAIRING: sworn protector!gwayne hightower x fem!targtower reader

SUMMARY: ser mark mullendore has been put to rest, leaving you defenseless and without a knight. your mother, queen alicent, remedies that quickly, finding you a new sworn protector who hits a little too close to home

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHORS NOTE: welcome to chains of love!!! i am so excited to start writing for gwayne and targtower!reader!!! it’s going to be a total roller coaster of emotions and feelings, and i can’t wait to get into it!!! this is also my first time writing asoiaf incest, so bare with me. this chapter also contains mentions of death and creepy, unwanted behaviour from men, so read at your own risk.

HIGH VALYRIAN IS IN ITALICS

ser mark mullendore took his last breath on the day of your twentieth name day. a testament to the years he spent protecting your life, harbouring a care for you as if you were his own kin.

the funeral pyre laid smokey in front of you; moonfyre, your midnight blue scaled dragon, swirling the sky over your head. it was only you in this barren field, your family and members of court and council not thinking it important that a man had died. mark came from a noble house in the reach, yet he had no family, and the families occupying the red keep, people he called his closest friends, didn’t seem to care about him.

it was only you honouring his death. the girl he called his daughter. the girl who he had been sworn to protect since she had turned six name days old. you stood in front of his wrapped body with a spine straight back, fire dancing across the gold of your silken dress as the mount holding mark’s body engulfed in flames. you had demanded a firm dracarys from moonfyre, yet your words had cracked, emotion blanketing the edges of your voice with a firm grasp.

this was a man who lifted you up easily and threw you over his shoulder when you were eight, catching you sneaking into the kitchens to thieve a batch of lemon cakes. that same man, who didn’t scold you harshly, yet shared a pastry with you and told you to not do it again, had died of sickness, and you would be damned to let people forget him.

“my princess!” a voice drifted through the air of the cliff, high pitched and squeaky in its announce. you lifted your tear stained face up from the pyre, taking in the sight of a young squire running up the grassy hill. you glared at the boy, not waiting for him to come closer before you unleashed your torrent of fury onto him.

“can’t you see i’m busy?!” you snapped, moonfyre growling and snapping her jaws behind you. the two of you were always in tuned. anytime you were grumpy, happy, or sad, moonfyre was similar, the dragon keepers being able to guess her mood for the day for all they would need is a moment with you and she was understood.

the squire halted a couple paces away from the burning body, a cherry hued blush on his cheeks as he wrung out his fingers in nervousness. people knew you were quick to temper, and it was never fun being on the receiving end. “i’m sorry, princess. it’s just that her grace — the queen, has called you back to the tourney grounds. it is your name day after all.”

a sneer rocked its way into your lips, eyes turning into slits as you stared at the squire with a molten glare. he shrunk under your gaze, not being able to hold a second of eye contact before he was shrinking into himself like a petulant child being caught on grounds they weren’t supposed to wander.

“ser mark has died,” you breathed, red hot anger radiating off of you in waves. if you were a dragon, fire would’ve been breathing from your lips, the fury coating your blood heating up your body and making you feel like you were going to explode. “i think it’s easy to understand that i don’t give a fuck about my name day, or the tourney for that matter. are you that daft that you cannot comprehend that?”

a deafening silence blankets the cliff as the squire shrinks even further into himself, mouth agape as he tries to come up with words to combat your snark. you stare at him with a raised brow, and before he can even utter a word, you snap at him again, words sharper and more cutthroat than before.

“that’s what i thought.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest before staring back down at the still burning body of mark mullendore. “you can leave now.”

“as you wish.” the squire scurries off before you can snap again, leaving you in a peaceful silence that is only interrupted by the beat of moonfyre’s wings. it dawns on you that this is what ser mark would’ve wanted. a serene moment for just himself and his daughter. the gods knew king viserys didn’t treat you as such, so what was a problem in stepping up?

a sigh tore from your lips, hands itching to touch ser marks sword withered skin. it didn’t matter how much he trained or how people called him a brute, ser mark was always kind and gentle with you, and you’d remember that until your dying breath.

no one had ever been as sweet to you as ser mark had. your parents were ghosts, your father melting away as your mother tried and pretended she cared, but you knew you weren’t her favourite deep down. your elder brother aegon was a drunk, too busy drowning in his cups and fucking whores to notice you. and when he did? he was cruel, making jabs at you that always left you wondering your worth.

helaena, your elder sister, was a sweet and gentle soul, but she liked to be by herself. sometimes you’d visit her and her children in her chambers, but she was always quiet, the visits usually spent with you playing with jaehaera and jaehaerys instead of talking with your sister.

your younger brothers, aemond and daeron, were vastly different, the latter having gone off to oldtown when he was very young, leaving you to only know snippets of his personality in letters you sent once every moon. from what you could gather, he was kind, and to you, a targaryen man known for his kindness was a good thing.

aemond was an enigma in his own, the one-eyed man more reserved and quiet than talkative. you guys bonded on the grounds of being the black sheep of the family, but aemond felt like he held a brighter candle to the name, sulking around corners and training to the sword with ser criston cole, a man who you loathed for no apparent reason other than he made your bones rattle with irritation.

it dawned on you at a young age that you held a syndrome only middle children could understand, the one where you felt left out even in a crowded room. it made you feel isolated as a kid, yet ser mark always made you feel seen, cheering you up when the trials of being a targaryen got too much.

now he was gone, and at the realization that you were invisible once again, a tear slipped down your cheek, a watery gasp leaving your lips as you clutched at your chest in agony.

“gods, ser.” you sobbed, holding onto your heart as it broke in your chest, the muscle feeling like it was spasming and burning all at once. “why did you leave me alone in this wretched world! it was supposed to be you and i forever, and i don’t know if i can live without you.”

behind you, moonfyre flew down in a fellow swoop, landing beside your shaking frame and nuzzling her snout into your chest. a shaken laugh left your lips, your head leaning down to lay on top of her nose, nuzzling into her deeply.

“i love you, my girl.” you breathed out the words in a soft breath, holding onto her a little tighter. the smoke was starting to make your head spin, and you knew it was time to go back to the tourney grounds before your mother sent a whole batch of kings guard to look for you.

with a sigh, you patted moonfyre’s neck, caressing her midnight blue scales before commanding to her deeply in high valyrian. “go back to the dragon pit,” you said firmly, backing away so the midnight monster could descend into the air and fly away towards her resting place.

a deep dread wallowed in your gut was you watched moonfyre fly away, your fingernails digging into the beds around your cuticles in worry. you didn’t want to leave ser mark, but you also knew he wouldn’t want you to hold back your life just for him. this thought made you sigh yet another breath, moving forward towards the noise of the tourney that was being celebrated in your name.

many minutes of aching feet and sniffling sobs finally led you to the tourney grounds, your eyes taking in the extravagance of all the tents and vendors that lined the field. you walked through with your head held high, the feeling of ser mark not behind you uncommon and saddening, yet you tried to get used to the feeling.

the royal pavilions came into view as you walked a little further, the sight before you complete and utter chaos. alicent stood frantic, her fingers twisting the green sleeves of her dress as she spoke harshly and sharply to her sworn protector and leader of the kings guard, ser criston cole, the rest of the white cloaks being spread around evenly. helaena sat on a bench beside the yawning mouth of the main pavilion, butterfly in hand as jaehaera and jaehaerys ran around wildly close by.

aegon was slumped over beside helaena, drunk off his arse even though it was only half past midday. aemond was nowhere to be seen, and you were certain he was probably off training somewhere.

your lips twisted in displeasure, the thought that you were abandoning ser mark for this terror one of pure unbridled anger. no words left your lips as the chaos ensued around you, and it wasn’t until your mother caught onto the sight of your silver curls and golden dress that she finally let go of all the tension that was building up in her shoulders.

alicent turned to ser criston and said a few more words before stalking over to you, her face a mask of anger as her dress billowed behind her in a storming fury. “where in the sevens name have you been?” she seethed, grabbing onto your upper arm with malice. her nails dug into your skin, and you felt a hiss leave your lips as she started tugging you towards the pavilion. “i’ve been worried off my wits for hours!”

a roll of your eyes had alicent digging her nails harder into your upper arm, leaving a gasp of pain to breach through your mouth. “don’t give me attitude, or i swear to the seven, i will send you to oldtown to become a septa!”

“i was on the cliffside by blackwater bay,” you mumbled, tripping over your slippers as your feet slid on the grass. “i laid ser mark to rest. a feat none of the imbeciles in this gods forsaken realm had the honour to do.”

a drunken laugh was heard from your left, your head whipping to the side to encounter a drunk yet somewhat coherent aegon. a lazy smirk was thrown on his face, disgust rolling in your gut as he eyed you up and down with the lustful eyes of a snake. “what’s with your incessant need to drone on about that mullendore nobody?” aegon slurred, gaze landing on your breasts with a smirk. “a good fuck would do you good. get your mind off that animal. you know which chambers to come to if you need aiding between your thighs, sister.”

“focus on your wife, you drunken craven!” a gasped yell left your lips, ripping your arm out of your mothers hold to charge at aegon. “and don’t speak of ser mark again! or i will cut off your cock and feed it to-“

“woah there, m’lady.” arms wrapped around your waist in a firm grip, your body spinning as the perpetrator pulled you away from aegon’s grinning frame. your arms clawed at your brother, glaring daggers and yelling curse words at aegon as the mystery man held you in a firm grip. “you mustn’t make a scene.”

a half scoff, half snort left your lips, spinning your head to glare at the stupid hedge knight who dare speak to you in such way. why wasn’t anyone stepping in? why wasn’t your mother calling the kings guard to unhand this treasonous man from you? it was all blinding, and you couldn’t help the sneer that blanketed your words.

“pardon me, ser. but if you don’t mind letting me the fuck go.” the words died in your throat as your lilac gaze caught onto that of warm brown, alabaster skin marred with freckles and soft auburn hair the only thing in your sight as you took in your captor. you knew now why your mother or the kings guard hadn’t acted, for the man holding you was non other than your uncle gwayne, proud knight of oldtown and a man you hadn’t seen since your tenth name day.

he’s grown in the decade since you last saw him. sharper, acute, and definitely more handsome than before. his eyes were wide, taking you in with a startled smile that rendered you speechless. he held you firm around the waist, fingers digging into the divots in your back as he pulled you away from aegon’s giggling frame. you could hear your mother sigh behind you, her fingers most definitely pinching her nose in exasperation.

“can you ever be proper, my dear?” she asked in a withered breath, auburn hair billowing behind her in the wind as she glared at aegon with sharp eyes. “gwayne. you can let my daughter go. and aegon. one more word from you and i’m enlisting constant surveillance around your chambers.”

aegon’s drunken protests were sparked on deaf ears as gwayne squeezed the flesh of your hips, smiling at you dashingly before letting you go all together. you fixed your wind swept silver curls, cursing yourself for deciding to go with your hair down today for it now resembled a birds nest. your lips blew at strands as you smoothed them down your head, doing the same motion to your rumpled dress before placing your hands on your hips and staring at gwayne with eyes thinned into slits.

“what are you doing here, dear uncle?” you asked suspiciously, watching as gwayne fixed his chest plate with a boyish grin. “you should be holding down the fort in oldtown. not halting me from attacking my disgrace of a brother.”

gwayne only laughed at your accusation, shaking his auburn hair out of his eyes before looking you up and down swiftly. it wasn’t leering or lustful in the way that aegon did it. gwayne seemed to be sweeping you for injuries, making sure his firm hold on you from earlier hadn’t harmed you.

“your mother hasn’t told you, i presume?” he questioned, looking past your shoulder to alicent with a raised brow. you whipped around at his remark, taking in your mothers too stoic face and knowing she was about to be the harbinger of bad news.

with another sigh, alicent reached forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly before explaining what your uncle had meant. “i know you’ve been heartbroken by the sudden passing of ser mark,” she responded, his name on her tongue shooting a pang of sadness to your heart. “but you need a protector, my dear. you can’t go around unsupervised.”

gears starting winding and turning in your brain; gwayne’s sudden appearance. why he had rushed to save you when you charged aegon. it was all starting to make sense, and the realization had you letting out a dry, humorous laugh.

“no.” you stated firmly, moving your head back and forth between alicent and gwayne, taking in your mothers firm yet motherly stare and your uncles apathetic eyes. “mother! you’ve got to be joking.”

alicent squeezed your shoulder tighter, nails digging into the blade as a warning to stop acting like a brat. after five kids you would’ve thought she was trained well in deflating their temper tantrums, but you and your siblings all had targaryen blood running through your veins, and nothing could stop the swell of wrath that sparked when any of you got mad.

“it needs to be done,” alicent responded, looking around to see if anyone had caught onto the crowned princess throwing a fit. “ser mark had passed, and i trust little in the kings guard by my own sworn protector. gwayne is a fine enough choice, and he took this role was grace and apathy.”

you only scoffed, ripping your shoulder out of your mothers hold to spin around on your uncle. he stared at you wide eyed, taking in the fiery lilac embers of your eyes and the wild untamed energy that radiated off of you in waves. “ser mark just perished not even a fortnight ago,” you quipped, rounding on gwayne with the predatory act of a dragon. “you dare steal a dead man’s position?”

“there’s little to steal, princess.” ser criston thought it perfect to put in his two cents, a sneer sucker punching itself across your face as you whirled on him in fury. “he’s passed. the position isn’t his anymore.”

“i’m sorry, who the fuck asked for your opinion?” alicent gasped at your language, her cheeks flaming in anger. gwayne tried to hide his snicker, agreeing with you on your hatred for the knight. he’s heard about ser criston’s lack of honourable behaviour, detesting him for breaking his vows and becoming the thing the warrior would loath.

a crack sounded through the air as alicent slapped you across the cheek, your head snapping sideways as a red hot print latched itself onto your skin. a gasp was heard from her brother behind you, yet no reaction came your way, your head turning back to your mother as she glared at you deeply.

“you watch your tone, young lady. and stop acting like a petulant child.” her words were sharp, cutting into your skin like glass. you just glared at your mother, seeing the deepness of her aversion towards who you really were. alicent never really saw you, and because of this, she never saw your relationship with ser mark, not understanding why appointing you a new protector so soon made you upset.

a silence blankets over your small gathering, the only noise being the merchants and nobles wandering around camp. you just stare defiantly at your mother, waiting for her to make the next move.

alicent only sighs for the umpteenth time, looking past you to her brother who is wide eyed at the display you and your mother just made. “gwayne. please escort my daughter back to her chambers. she’s had a rough morning, and i think some rest would do her good.”

your defiant stare turns into an open gaping mouth, wide eyed and angry as your mother turns her back on you to talk again with ser criston. it was heartbreaking, being on the receiving end of your mother’s indifference. she only seemed to care for helaena these days, her favouritism clear as she shooed you away to your chambers on your own name day.

a soft hand blanketed your shoulder, the feeling almost comforting as you whirled around to see gwayne looking at you sadly, a soft smile on his lips that showed how much care he held for you.

“come, sweet niece,” he whispered, trying his best to keep his words low and out of earshot of alicent and ser criston. “let’s get you back to your chambers. i know you detest this tourney anyways.”

the kindness of his words seeped into your bones, making a warmth bloom underneath your skin. gwayne was always kind. he never picked favourites like your mother did, doling out his affections for each of his nieces and nephews evenly. if ser mark’s death wasn’t weighing heavy on your chest, you would’ve been glad that gwayne was your new protector, for his knightly virtues and honourable behaviour made him a good man.

with a defiant huff, you pushed aside that warmth in your chest, remembering ser mark and how it was supposed to be him with you right now. you fluttered past gwayne with the grace of a disgruntled fairy, dress swishing behind you as the wind lifted your silver hair.

gwayne hurried after you in measured steps, his armour clanking as he tried to keep your pace. nobles and common folk looked on earnestly and confused as the young princess tore through the camp grounds, her exasperated uncle following behind her. it was a sight for sore eyes, the whispers starting to already form.

“it’s been a while since i’ve made your acquaintance, princess.” gwayne’s voice was smooth, his attempt at trying to form small talk making you irritable. “you’ve grown into a fine young lady since our last meeting.”

“i was ten when i last encountered you,” the words that came out of your mouth were clipped, your head turning to the side to eye gwayne as you continued to walk towards the red keep. “it would be concerning if i didn’t grow.”

a huff of laughter left gwayne’s lips, his arms placed demurely behind his back. “you’re quick to wit, dear princess. i must say though, it evades my memory if you were always this smart tongued as a child.”

it was easily detectable to see the prying of gwayne’s questions, how he inquired cryptically on your upbringing, wondering on the difference between you then and you ten years later. a raise of your brow showed your knowledge of gwayne’s ulterior motives, your face passive as the red keep’s scarlet bricks came into view.

“growing up in my family leaves you moving down one of two paths,” you responded, the bustling sounds of stable boys and maids hitting your ears the closer you got to the castles yawning mouthed entrance. “either you become quiet and meek, or you become steeled and hardened. i learned early on the quietness gets you nowhere in life, so being a cruel bitch must do.”

a soft silence came over both you and your uncle, the only sound being the howling wind ghosting through your ears and over your skin. you looked over to gwayne to see a mask of thoughtfulness over his usual muted expression, his eyebrows drawn tight as he bit his lip and stared down at the rubbled sand beneath his feet.

“i don’t think your cruel.” gwayne’s words were finite, his bitten lip twisting as he stared head of you towards the halls of the red keep. “mouthy? yes. headstrong? definitely. but not cruel.”

laughter left you in a quick, loud shout, your head thrown back in merriment as gwayne stared at you with a smile, a soft yet quizzical look on his face. “what’s so funny, princess?”

“i’m sorry, uncle. it’s just that no one has ever spoken of me in such manner.” you grinned at him as you continued walking, silently taking in his ethereal beauty. gwayne was seriously gorgeous, and you realized that you don’t recall what he looked like from when you were ten. the only image you have of him is gwayne now; a godly beauty that is steadfast and strong in his words and actions.

it was refreshing, how gwayne didn’t diminish you like aegon did with his lewd words, or how he didn’t ignore your requests like your mother did. you weren’t fond of him taking ser mark’s place, but you could see yourself warming up to him in the future. for now, you’d stew in your anger, for it’s the only way you could hold onto your best friends memory.

gwayne shook his head, a grin on his face that rivalled the brightness of the sun. you could tell you were getting closer to your chambers, and some deep part of you didn’t want this conversation to end. “that’s too bad,” gwayne responded, spine straight and poise in a knightly manor. “i’m honoured to be the first one to acknowledge your kindness.”

“kindness?” you snorted, ignoring the spark of warmth that ignited in your stomach at gwayne’s words. “dear uncle, you just held me back from attacking my brother. how is that me demonstrating acts of kindness?”

a mask of displeasure twisted over gwayne’s face as you mentioned aegon, a soft sneer igniting on his lips that made you hold back a smirk. “don’t mouth this off to anyone but me, but aegon is far from honourable, and if your mother or that craven ser criston weren’t there, i would’ve let you get a few scratches in.”

more laughter danced from your lips, the knowledge that gwayne hated ser criston just as much as you did brightening. you spotted your chamber doors in the distance, sighing as you could now finally get some peace and quiet. talking to your uncle was all nice, yet the toll of putting ser mark to rest started weighing heavy on you, leaving your bones weary and your body in need of rest.

“well, i’m glad to hear that you’re on my side, dear uncle. but i fear it’s time for me to retire.” you stopped in front of your door with a wave of exhaustion, your eyes tired and your quick whit dwindling. gwayne only bowed his head in response, grabbing your free hand that wasn’t reaching for the door handle to bring it up to his mouth.

the kiss he placed on the back of your hand was delicate, one that sent shivers wracking through your bones. in this moment, it was hard to see this man as your uncle. in this moment, all you could see was a dashing man who treated you with respect. one who cherished you.

his lips lingered on your skin, their warmth leaving you in a trance even as he pulled away, staring at you with kind eyes.

“get some rest, darling niece.” he whispered, a unfamiliar cherry blush dancing across your cheeks. “and sorry for the loss of your old protector. i remember you mentioning his name was mark mullendore, and i can’t help but think back to meeting him at a tourney.” a smile dusted his lips, one of remembrance and good memories. “he was a fine knight, and i hope to protect and keep you unharmed to the degree that he upheld.”

with a reverent nod of his head, gwayne spun on his heel and moved back down the hall, your eyes following his purposeful gait before he turned a corner and you lost him.

something deep furled in your gut, and you didn’t know if it was his acknowledgement of ser mark, something not one singular person had done since his death, or that gwayne seemed steadfast in his protection of you. he was always a noble man, a follower of the seven and honourable enough to cover a whole army, but something in his words left tingles in your veins, a feeling you hadn’t felt since you developed a silly crush on a kitchen boy when you were twelve.

your hand clutched tightly onto the door handle of your chamber, mind reeling with emotions that hadn’t been unearthed since you were a girl. what you were feeling was dulcet, but it was forbidden, and that made your stomach clench so tight, you felt like you were going to be sick.

“seven hells.” you breathed, throwing your chamber door open and slamming it in a fellow swoosh, your body flinging itself onto your bed in agony.

this was going to be hell.

taglist: @silkaurum @pinkdoeweirdo @lustedbby @userhotd @carmysdoll @valarrsgirl @fluttervoid @vlarrtrgryn @starr-jazz @faesspace @starsandstars @erraticqueendestiny @hwaofdreams @fancyvoidtragedy @athenaaaxo1 @siriusthebright @theprophaecy @exhibit--f @redstappen @motelmorado @lanabanana12711 @sweetestgrace @lin-djarin @stillinraccooncity @5tuck-on-y0u @ctrl-alt-delulu @fluorescentadolescent1 @starcrossedtrek

MASTERLIST

[pickledturnips]

UGHHHH another man to add to my roster.

Guards!!!!! Seize him!!! Handsome prat.

[pickledturnips]

Down in a Hole    

This is based off of an ask by: @lulaaaaaaw

*As I was writing the original prompt I had a thought where what if Jimmy, is yes, an incel, but hes also pathetic as fuck so I decided to make him putty in our readers hands. I’m sorry to the original requester if this is too far off of what they wanted! I just have a hard time writing incels cause I don’t know what to write other than “go make me a sandwich”. 

I love Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal, a concerning amount. Like, very concerning. 

TW: Incel!Jimmy, Virgin!Jimmy, kidnapping, stalking, smut (it is consensual despite the situation, so it could be a little DubCon), Gamer!Reader, Readers fucked in the head, Switch!Jimmy, excessive whimpering, sloppy ass kissing. 

A/N: I legit suck at writing with scottish accents so please try to be imaginative lol, also I have no idea how to write smut so here ye go. 

Summary: Sir Jimmy was NOT happy when you filed a restraining order against him.

This is somehow 5.2k words, but I’m not complaining.

— 

Your head pounds, nostrils filling with the acrid air of a damp basement, back feeling like it was beat in with a hammer from the laying on the hard, cool ground chilling your exposed skin. 

The air becomes stifling, trying to inhale from your nose becomes difficult, clogged from whatever debris floats in the air, you attempt to breath through your mouth, only to find it impossible; there’s cloth in the way, soaked in your saliva.

Breathing becoming panicked, you try to crack open your eyes, the crust around them making it feel like someone's rubbing sand in them; heart pounding, when you finally manage it, you can’t see, the room too dark except for a small light coming from beneath the door up the stairs. 

Your rapid breathing causes the cloth around your mouth to be sucked in even more, choking on the saliva it forces down your throat, you begin to cough, desperately trying not to panic. 

“Shhhhhh” you hear coming from the dark, “so dramatic ye are.” 

Reeling back from where you think the voice is coming from, you scramble away from it desperately, hands and legs tied together making it nearly impossible. 

You get as far as you can from the voice before backing into something hard; “Now where do ye think yer going?”. 

Eyes widening, realizing you’ve run directly into the arms of the figure cloaked by darkness, you let out a pathetic whimper, trying to scramble in the other direction now; before you can manage it, he grabs you by the rope tied around your wrists, pulling you by the binding, further into him. 

“Now now” he kisses his teeth, chastising you for your whining, hands moving up to push your hair out of your face. “There’s nowhere te go.”  

Finally leaning down into your view, your eyes wet with unshed tears, making his face blurry in the dark; but it's enough. 

Jimmy. 

Oh my god it's Jimmy. 

—-

You’d first met Jimmy when you went online to play COD: Zombies and stream it. 

The whole time you played, he was insulting you, calling you a fat bitch, an ugly whore, anything you can imagine. 

At the time you only laughed, the threat was behind a screen and could have been thousands of miles away. In fact you started to get enjoyment out of playing with Jimmy, purposely riling him up so that he would insult you. 

One day he followed you on discord, and then instagram, and reddit, and tumblr, and twitch, and every single social media site you can even imagine, even going as far as to DM you to ask if you had the Jeremy Renner App. 

One day you went live with him on Twitch, and the whole time he was insulting you; calling you an ugly whore, a detriment to society, a harbinger of evil. 

That was the first time you saw his face, and despite the vicious words he hurled at you, you thought he was quite handsome, behind the grease, and the foul look on his face, you thought that if he had a personality transplant you would actually consider it. 

This obsession with you, however, did not end with social media. 

One day when you were going to the store to buy Digestive’s and milk you saw him, peeking through the shelves of the corner store, staring at you; both with fascination and mal-intent. 

The sight of him following you around town, going everywhere you went, and just watching you, left you uneasy in your skin. 

When you went out on a first date with a guy from Tinder, someone you had no interest in, but were trying to put yourself out there for the first time in your life. Jimmy came into the restaurant and started to curse you out. 

“Ye sniveling whore, fecking disloyal cunt! How dare ye embarrass me like this! Do ye think Im a fecking eejit” 

Everyone in the restaurant turned their heads in your direction, staring at you as if you had just been caught cheating. 

“Jimmy!” you gasp in surprise, shuddering at the sight of him, “We’re not together, and never will be! Leave me alone you fucking creep!” storming out of the restaurant, you never heard from the guy again. But you certainly heard from Jimmy. 

Spray painting ‘slag’ onto your house in the middle of the night, blasting you on his reddit page, he got his whole army of ‘Jimmies’ to spam your feed to the point that you had to shut down all of your social media. 

Finally, after he showed up banging at your window in the middle of night, you decided to go to the police, filing a restraining order. 

You had thought it worked.

He had disappeared. 

Until now. 

—

You whimper his name against the cloth, barely intelligible, but enough for him to crack a smile. His greasy blonde hair framing his face, he breathes out a laugh. 

“Yes, me wee hen, tis I, Jimmy!” he throws his hands in the air, smiling at the dark abyss above. 

You mumbled against the cloth again. Jimmy coming down from his reverie at the sound of it, his smile dropping, giving you a hard look. 

“What?!” he yells, “I can’t understand ye!”

You're shaking, sobbing at his aggression, the sopping wet cloth around your mouth is waterboarding you, making it impossible to inhale. 

“Stop crying!” he yells, reaching forward to aggressively wipe the tears from your face, “Fecking hell, you sluts are always bitching and moaning! You’d never get a husband if it weren’t for me.” 

Calming himself, he reaches behind your head to unwrap the cloth that's become tangled in your hair; ripping some of it out as he removes it, hooking a finger in your mouth to dislodge it. You gag at the feeling. 

Finally, deeply inhaling at the air that enters your lungs, you feel Jimmy’s finger enclosing around your chin, gripping hard enough to bruise. Leaning into your face, close enough that you can make out the colour of his eyes, even in the dark; he inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your hair before letting out a shuddering breath. 

You try to lean out of the way of his breath, the heat of it making you suffocate. 

“Jimmy?” you question, voice shuddering, small because of his clasp around your jaw. “Where am I?” 

He laughs, looking at you like it's a ridiculous question, “Females, always so curious aren't ye? Yer home silly, now why would ye ask a stupid question like tha?”, voice reprimanding, as if you're a petulant child, and not a grown woman. 

You gulp down more air, forcing it through your clenched teeth, “when did I get home?”, deciding to play along is the best course of action to get out of this situation alive. 

“Earlier.” He answers shortly, releasing your jaw to stand, pacing around in a dark matching outfit, making his blonde hair the only thing visible in the limited light. 

You nod, “ok” giving up your line questioning. For now. 

“Ye’know” he says snapping his fingers and pointing in your direction with a grimace on his face, “Ye should be grateful, I saved ye, the road ye were going down, one of whoring and disloyalty,” shaking his head unable to finish his sentence, before starting back over at you, “Ye should be grateful!” he yells. 

You can’t help but flinch at his volume, 

“I am,” pleading, you try to crawl to him, legs still bound, “I am grateful Jimmy, of course I am”

“Nay yer not” shaking his head, grimace still painting his features, teeth clenched, “Yer not, yer a whore, a liar.” 

Getting onto your knees you reach over to him, gripping the velvet of his outfit with your bound hands, “Jimmy I am. I am grateful. Thank you for saving me. Thank you.”

He looks at you in shock, shock that you are touching him, eyes wide and unsure at the sight of you on your knees begging him. 

“I am grateful” you breathe, gripping the fabric around his stomach harder, “Thank you.” 

He sighs, reaching forward to run his palm against the side of your face, despite the roughness of the action you lean into it, the warmth of another human, despite the situation, is inviting. 

The moment is broken when the door at the top of the stairs swings open, temporarily blinding you with the light it lets in.  

“Jimmy!”, a feminine voice yells, “I have yer sandwich ready! Do ye want me to cut off the crusts for yer guest as well?” 

Jimmy grunts, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, “Fecking stupid bitch!” he mumbles under his breath, “Fecking hell mum! What did I tell ye about knocking, or can ye not hear behind all of yer incessant yapping!” 

The voice turns small, “Sorry Jimmy! I forgot! I’ll remember for next time!” 

About to close the door, “She wants the crusts off her sandwich!” he yells back without asking your opinion on the matter, “Needs to lose some weight.” 

Mumbling the last part as he gazes down at your sad figure, still clad in the pajamas you were wearing when you went to bed the night before. 

The door closes and with it goes the light it brought to the small room.

“Jimmy, can you turn the lights on… I want to look at you” you lie, you want to see if there is a way out, a weapon, anything. 

He sighs, before shifting away from you, going to the corner to pull the cord from the ceiling, illuminating a single light bulb into the room. 

You gasp at the sight of him. Clad in a purple velour tracksuit and a white wife beater,  his blonde hair shining with grease, the sight of him makes you sad. So much potential, wasted. 

“Why-Why did you bring me home Jimmy?” you ask, sitting back on your feet, still on your knees. 

He laughs again, making his way to the corner of the room where his monitors and bed sit, “Yer to be my wife, an Alpha needs a mate.” 

Despite the disgust that fills you at the words he uses, the idea of sleeping with Jimmy is not exactly the worst thing that comes to mind, despite all he's put you through.

Even back when he was insulting you on twitch you used to rub your legs together, trying to stop the heat that would pool at your centre. 

I need to seek therapy. You’d tell yourself. 

Soaking your panties because an incel is insulting you isn't normal. 

“I’ve not betrayed you Jimmy” you say, voice small, dejected at your body's betrayal. The situation should have left you petrified, but you’ve always got a kick out of talking to Jimmy, no matter the context. 

He ignores you, “Yer virtue is mine! Not some red pill taking Beta’s! Ye are mine!” he growls, throwing down a Teletubbie figurine he had sitting on the shelf next to his video games, rushing over to you and grabbing you by the neck, just under the jaw. 

You don’t flinch at his action, in fact you lean into it, nuzzling further into his hand. Your brain and body disconnect completely, unable to make a rational decision in this situation. Instead you want him to get more riled up. 

You lick your crusted lips, looking up at him with big eyes. 

He noticeably flinches at the action, unsure of how to move past this point. 

Reaching up, you grip his wrist with your bound hands, caressing them softly. He inhales at the action, desperately sucking in a breath in between his teeth. Feeling his grip tightening on your neck. 

Leaning up on your knees, face getting closer to his stomach, you blow a cool breath out of your mouth, seeing his stomach jolt at the feeling, he makes a noise akin to a whimper in the back of his throat. 

Biting your lip as you look up at him, your panties are soaked, you can feel it leaking through your pajama shorts, trailing down your thighs slowly. 

Jimmy looks like a deer in headlights, chest rising and falling rapidly, his big mouth has finally been clamped shut. 

“Jimmy” you whine, “please, take these off of me.” 

He stares a moment longer, before snapping out of his reverie and squeezing your throat so hard the air gets cut off. The muscles in his arm flex with the effort it takes, lifting you up by the neck and planting you steady on your feet. You look up at him, face turning red with the lack of oxygen. 

Gripping you harder by the neck, he jerks your head forward into his, lips planting on yours sloppily. Licking into your once closed mouth like a wild animal, his saliva dripping down your face. 

He's a shit kisser. 

You can’t help but whine though, you can feel the heat in your stomach becoming hotter. 

Slowly his grip releases and he licks further into your mouth, so far that you can feel his tongue hit the back of your throat. His hand completely releases you, making it hard for you to balance on your tied feet, gripping his wife beater as best as you can to stop yourself from falling, you inadvertently pull him closer, feeling the soft pudge of his stomach, and the hard line of his cock through his trackies. 

Finally kissing him back, you start to fight with your tongues. 

“Fecking whore ye are.” he groans roughly, reaching back into your hair and yanking it to expose your neck to him. 

Trailing his tongue down your jaw and into your throat, sucking on the hollow at the base of your neck. 

“Mmh Jimmy, please” you whine, gripping him harder. 

His hands wind down your body, squeezing your braless tits roughly, making you hiss and gasp as the sensation. 

Both of you are panting, his hot breath making you sweat, the slick of his saliva drying on your skin. 

“Fecking cunt needs to be punished.” Coming back up to your mouth he bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, reaching down to your ass and gripping it with both hands, far down enough that you can feel him graze your leaking pussy and soaked inner thighs, “soaked for me ye are.” 

He brings one hand forward to his face, the slick coating his finger, he leans forward, inhaling deeply at your scent before shoving them into his mouth. 

“Yer kitty is so sweet for me.” he moans around his fingers, before removing them with a pop and shoving them into your mouth, his spit glistens on them, and the remaining taste of your slick makes you moan around them, rolling your tongue. 

When he releases his fingers from your mouth, he re-places his hand on your ass, roughly squeezing as he drags your body into his, grinding against his twitching cock, he lets out a hot breath onto your mouth, shuddering at the sensation like a green boy. 

You groan, “Jimmy, I want to feel you”, flexing your hands in their bindings.  

His eyes squeeze shut harder, contemplating the best course of action. 

“Please baby.” you ask sweetly. 

He whimpers at the name, you feel his cock twitch in his track pants. 

Gripping you by the bindings, he drags you over to the bed, throwing you down onto it, before going over to the desk and grabbing a pair of scissors. 

Fuck, maybe that wasn’t the best idea. 

Flinching at the glint of metal as he comes towards you hurriedly, shifting his weight due to the hardness of his cock, he reaches forward and cuts off the bindings on your hands and feet. 

Reaching up with your now free hands, you caress his face, cooing, “Such a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Mhm” he whimpers, swallowing thickly, his entire demeanor has changed, whimpering and panting under your grasp. 

“You’ve been bad though, huh?” you ask softly, caressing his cheeks. 

He says nothing, eyes glossed over with the weight of his pleasure. 

“Haven’t you!?” You yell, slapping his cheek. 

He whines, cheek turning red with the mark of your hand, “Yes. Yes I have.”

“Hmm, what are we gonna do about that?” you rise to your full height, circling him, pushing him so he sits on the bed. 

Gasping out a breath as you get on your knees in front of him, reaching forward to caress the hard line of his cock through the velvet. 

Licking your lips at the feeling of it, “Do you want me to suck it baby?” 

He pants like a dog, chest rising and falling rapidly, shaking his head in a way that makes his hair flow around him like a wild animal. 

“Do you promise to be good?” reaching forward to grab the waistband of his bands, and gripping your fingers inside of the elastic, feeling the heat of his skin, and the rough hair leading down. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good.” 

“Do you promise to leave me alone after this?” you continue your slow pull of his pants.

“No, please no.” he gasps out. 

“Promise Jimmy! Or else I’ll tell all of your followers what a simp you are!” releasing your grip on the waist band and retracting your hand. 

“No, no come back.” 

“Only when you promise!” you yell. 

He exhales, tears running down his cheeks at the idea of leaving you alone, “Fine! I promise.” 

At that, you reach forward, completely tugging down his underwear and pants to expose his cock. 

Pink tipped, and practically soaked in pre-cum, your mouth waters at the sight. He hisses as you reach forward, finally grasping his thick cock at the base. Leaning forward you place your lips on the tip, smearing the cum all over them, hydrating their dryness. 

Looking up at Jimmy, staring at his eyes and the tears that leak from them, you suddenly wrap your lips around him and shove him all the way down into your throat, gulping at his size, the vacuum sensation making him choke. 

“Fecking whore” he whimpers, the strength behind his words making them sound pathetic. 

He reaches for your hair, running his hands through it and gripping, forcing your mouth further down on his cock, and holding it there. 

You choke, spit dripping out of your mouth and coating the blonde hair that sits on his pelvis, sucking him down your throat, reaching to caress his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm. 

Not even 30 seconds after you started, you feel his balls clench, followed by a rough inhale of air. He keeps his hold on your hair, making you swallow down all his cum when he releases. 

Finally releasing you, as he lays down on the bed trying desperately to catch his breath, you wipe your red lips. 

“Done already baby?” you ask teasingly, standing to your full height and reaching down to your shorts and underwear, hooking your fingers through them and shimming them down your legs. 

The slick coating your thighs catches the limited light in the room, when you shift your legs the sound of your lips parting and the slick sound practically echoes throughout the room. 

You crawl forward onto the bed, getting to Jimmy’s chest and straddling. 

“My turn,” you say, gripping his greasy blond hair, and moving yourself so you can grind on his flaccid shaft. 

He moans at the feeling of your slick on his sensitive cock, popping a semi at the sensation. 

“You ready for more honey?” you ask, hands gripping his soft belly under his wife beater. 

He shakes his head desperately, too overwhelmed at the sensation. 

“No?” you ask mockingly, “Why not?” 

“Too much” he whimpers, throwing his head back and exposing his neck when you grind a little harder down onto him. 

You kiss your teeth at him, as you lean down to kiss his neck. Trailing your long tongue up from his collarbone up to the base of his ear, whispering, “want to sit on your face baby.” 

You feel his cock twitch hard at the words, his throat gulp at the idea. 

“Think you can handle that?” you swirl your tongue just under his ear, where his jaw connects, inhaling deeply at the scent of his damp skin. 

“Mhm” he grits out, reaching down to your ass and gripping hard, practically dragging you to his mouth. 

Your slick has soaked your thighs completely, lowering yourself onto his open mouth, he pants at the scent of you. 

“Yer cunt is so sweet f’me isn't it mo chridhe” your slick envelopes his wanton mouth. 

His tongue slurps up the slick like a dog on a hot summer day. 

You reach towards the wall in front of you, gripping your nails into the chipping paint as his tongue circles your clit. 

“Mmm fuck Jimmy” you whimper as he swirls his tongue around your entrance.

A rough hand smacks your ass at your words, the sound of his own name where ‘baby’ should be enraging him. 

“Fuck, right there” you grind down harder, gripping his hair as his long tongue swirls your entrance, nose edging at your sensitive clit. 

He groans into your cunt at the feeling of you grinding on him, the vibration of his unintelligible words making you moan harder, stomach clenching at the sensation. 

“Whose bitchin 'and moaning now? Huh, baby?” you say smugly, gripping his hair to grind down harder. 

He smacks your ass again, harder this time. 

When he reaches the part inside of you, soft and spongy, with his long tongue you moan out, leaning back on his thighs with your hands, feeling his cock harden at the sensation of your aggressive movements. 

“Eugh baby, right there! Right there, fuck m’gonna cum” you move your hips in a circle, his nose circling your clit as his tongue fucks your g-spot. 

Before your orgasm can shake your body, Jimmy grips you around the middle, throwing you down on the mattress. 

Your legs and torso sit in the air as he stays on his knees holding you up by your hips. 

He gulps down your soaked pussy like a man wandering the dessert, drunk off of your taste. 

“M’feck me little hen, so good f’me” he moans into your sopping cunt, the slick dribbling down your back from the position he has you in. 

“Jimmy! Uh” you exclaim, letting out incoherent moans, reaching up to grip your own tits, swirling your bare nipples, pinching and prying at them as he fucks your cunt mindlessly with his tongue. 

“Baby’need ya inside!” you manage to moan out, “feel so empty” clenching your soaked hole to emphasize your point. 

He groans into your cunt, his hard cock rubbing against your lower back from where he has you held in the air, he grinds into you. 

“Please” you mewl at him, pinching your nipples so hard they get swollen at the sensation, “Eugh’inside honey, wanna feel you!” 

He finally relents, taking one last open mouthed gulp of your slick before putting you down onto the bed. 

You struggle to catch your breath, panting at the cusp of an orgasm he just plowed you to. 

“Where are you going?” you whine pathetically as he gets up out of the bed, watching as he removes the remainder of his clothes. 

He reaches down underneath you, gripping your hips and lower back before throwing you over, and onto your hands and knees in front of him. 

You arch your back, trying to back up into him. 

“Desperate for m’cock aren’t ye, kitty weeping for me” he says, reaching his finger forward to collect your click from your sensitive cunt, and running it along his lips like he's applying lip gloss. 

He grips himself, tapping the tip of his cock against your folds. You mewl at the sensation, clit sensitive from his tongue. 

Without any further warning, he plunges himself forward, folding himself over your back as he groans, biting your shoulder. 

“She’s grippin me s’tight for such a wee whore” he hot breath makes your back sweat, his greasy hair overwhelming your sensations as you try to back up into him. 

“Baby keep moving” you instruct him when he stops and sits still inside of you. 

 He whimpers, trying not to blow his load into your cunt immediately, “patience y’fecking slag”. 

A large groan escapes him as he begins to grind into your pussy slowly, shuddering at the feeling. 

“Harder Jimmy” you demand, plowing your hips back into his, the slapping of skin echoing through the room. 

He whimpers pathetically at the sensation, gripping onto your tits like a lifeline as he gently grinds into you. 

You groan in annoyance, before removing yourself from his cock, and pushing him down onto his back. 

He stares up at you with wide eyes, hair fanned out around his head like an angel's halo; you try not to laugh at the irony. 

Climbing on top of him again, you grip his painfully hard cock and sit on it. 

He sits up in the bed, clinging onto your back like a lifeline as you grind and bounce on his cock. Sweat building up in the crevasse of your knees at the exertion, you moan like a mad woman. 

“Fucking hell baby s’deep in me” his thick cock pounds into your spot perfectly, making you bite down on his shoulder from the pleasure, unable to exert the energy any other way. 

Jimmy sucks dumbly at your tits, groaning at the pleasure your hot cunt brings him, he’s never felt anything like it before. He fist will be nothing compared to this, the videos of you in your bedroom can’t even compare to the feeling of your slick dripping onto his balls, soaking his sheets. 

You swirl around his cock, the move causing him to groan, “Feck gonna cum!” he groans into the valley of your breasts, licking a stripe up and into your mouth. 

Open mouths caressing each other, breaths intermingling with your moans, your tongues dance against each other, “Fuck baby, wait” 

Before you can finish your sentence, Jimmy is panting into your mouth, convulsing against you as his soft tummy twitches against yours, his balls pull taught and he cums so hard you can feel it when it hits your cervix. 

He groans, fucked out, gripping your ass tightly as you try to keep bouncing on him, so close to your release. 

“Baby please, I need to cum” you whine, cupping his jaw with your hand as you lick around his open, panting, mouth, sopping up all his drool. 

“Later.” he says shortly. 

Your eyes darken, eyebrows furrowing together, “No.” 

Getting off his cock with a slick sound, his cum dribbles down your legs and his cock onto his sheets. 

You lean back onto his pillows, closing your legs, your overstimulated cunt needs friction. 

His cum leaks out of your wanton hole, still expanded, remembering his girth. 

“Please, baby” you whine, opening your legs to him, reaching down to your folds to gather his cum into your fingers, bringing them to your mouth and sucking. 

Jimmy’s eyes widen at the sight of your leaking pussy, his panting from exertion changing to that of desire. 

He crawls towards you, leaning toward your cunt, and licking up the slick that rests on your thighs, his and yours. 

You grip his hair into your hands, the sight of his plump ass subtly grinding down into his sheets has your pussy fluttering. 

He starts at your gapping hole, scooping up the cum that has tried to escape, with his tongue and pushing it back into your cunt. 

“Mm ya right there” moaning as you grind into his face. “Use your fingers baby” 

At your words, he reaches up, gathering his cum and your slick with his fingers and shoving them back inside your pussy, not letting a drop of his cum escape your womb. 

“Fecking s’pretty covered in me cum” he moans as he sucks your clit into his mouth, kissing it with such vigor it has your thighs shaking around his head; toes curling in pleasure. 

His fingers work against your spot, plunging in and out, soaked to the wrist with various juices, his tongue licks rapidly at your cunt, like his sucking an ice cream cone thats about to melt. 

“Yes Jimmy, that's it! Fuck thats it” you pant out, breath barely entering your lungs. 

He grips your hips with his other hand, grinding his worn out cock against the sheets, as he pulls your cunt as close to his face as his can, you can feel him inhaling you. 

“Fuck baby yes! Oh Yes! Fuck! M’gonna cum!” somehow he moves faster, tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to your release. 

“Fuck baby, m’gonna squirt, so full of you ugh” you moan, feeling your orgasm wash over you.

Stomach fluttering and shaking, legs closing around his head as he continues to plunge his fingers in and out, you feel the edge come rapidly.

“Fuck! Yes! Yes jimmy Fuck!!” you cry out, gripping his head with both hands as your release sprays him in the face, soaking him and the sheets below you, leaving you to sit in a pool of your slick. 

Despite the overwhelming feeling, Jimmy licks it up, ass stuttering in the sheets at the sensation of a woman's cum soaking him. 

You have to shove his head away, overwhelmed at the feeling, you cup your hand over your aching cunt, loosely rubbing it to ride out your orgasm, as you close your legs and turn away from him. 

He crawls up next to you, scooping you up in his arms, and sighing lovingly into your shoulder. 

Before long you both fall asleep, naked and on top of his covers, worn out. 

—

Later in the evening, when Jimmy’s snores wake you from your slumber, you crawl out of his suffocating embrace. 

Wandering over to his desk, you notice the sandwich his mom must have made for you, when she placed that there, you don't know. But you’re grateful. 

Grateful because in her haste to escape the room where she probably saw her son with his hostage naked, she left the knife she used to cut off the crusts, on the plate. 

You look over at a sleeping Jimmy, contemplating your choices, as you grip the handle of the blade.

----

Ok this is a first for me, but I hope y'all enjoyed

Let me know your thoughts, and my asks! are always open if y'all wanna send in prompts or just send me random shit!

[starlitspiders]

okay so maybe i just like evil blond guys

[pickledturnips]

The Visitor Pt. 4 

I’m back! This chapter is going to be… interesting. I had no idea where to go from the last chapter. 

Guys my requests are also open, and I need motivation so dont be shy!!!! Also just send me any thoughts y'all have, I love just having a chat!

Disclaimer, I know jack shit about medical stuff and only know things from my own experience and ER/The Pitt so please dont come at me---Also, I’m experimenting with different types of POV’s in my other fics, so if that has slipped into here I apologize in advance. 

CW: Eating disorders, Unrequited love, chubby!reader, depressed!reader, insecure!reader, self-deprecating reader, virgin!reader, bad thoughts, oblivious!adrian, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, begging (ur welcome), mentions of medical intervention for ED's.

Summary: Y/N and Adrian have been friends for 26 years, and for 24 of those Y/N has been in love with him. He has no idea, no matter how much she tries to tell him, she feels like she remains invisible to him and other men. A night out at a bar reveals more about their relationship, to the gang, and to each other.

*the above images have ZERO relevance or correlation to what the reader is meant to look like, they simply match the vibe of the chapter*

—-

– Y/N

Her back ached, her arms were burning, fingers frozen to the touch. It felt like someone had beat her up. 

It had been at least a week without bingeing, and despite the good favour that brought her, the lack of nutrition was slowly deteriorating her body. 

She’d been heaving new shipments of books around all day, and restocking the shelves with those dropped in the return bin. The constant up and down motion on the ladder was making her dizzy, and the weakness in her arms made every movement feel like she was wading through mud.  

There was another 30 minutes in her shift, and probably another million books to restock, but the only thing Y/N could think of was her bed. Her soft, warm bed. The benefit of being so exhausted after work is that you want to sleep. Your body is so tired that you physically can’t eat. 

Y/N reached onto the cart that she was pushing around the library, grabbing 5 books balanced precariously in one hand as she climbed the ladder.

When she reached the top, the effort of pushing aside the other books to make room for the new ones made her head spin, the muscles pinching in her shoulders making her uncomfortable, the sweat clinging to her back making her overstimulated. 

Finally managing to shove the new books into their correct spot, she began her descent of the ladder. 

A mistake. 

When she turned her head to look down at the rungs of the ladder, black swarmed her vision. Trying to save herself before she inevitably passed out, again, she gripped the shelf in front of her. 

Before the lights went completely out around her, she could feel herself fall. 

Fucking great, now I have to re-shelve all of those. 

Were the last thoughts that swam in her mind as the shelf came down and knocked her out. 

—

Wincing at the bright lights and scratchy feeling of the sheets, she peels her eyes open. Someone's hovering nearby, adjusting something in the IV in her arm. 

Great. I’m in the hospital. There goes my next 50 paycheques. 

“Oh great you’re awake, I’ll go fetch the doctor.” The nurse says, leaving no time for her to ask what’s happened, and rushing out of the room 

She glances down at herself; her arms are bandaged, purple bruises are beginning to form on her legs; she can’t even begin to imagine what her face must look like. 

“Miss. L/N, you’re awake”, a middle aged man enters the room, not sparing her a glance as he pokes and prods at his ipad. “You had quite the day at work it seems”

Y/N blanks, she can’t remember what exactly happened, only that one moment she was at work, and the next she’s in the fluorescent heaven. 

“What happened? Why am I here?” she questions, sitting up in her bed as fast as she can, that is to say, slowly. 

“Well, according to your colleagues, you suddenly lost your balance…” he pauses, looking at the chart in front of him, “ and fell off a 6 foot ladder. You somehow managed to pull down 2 whole bookshelves on top of yourself in the process”. 

Y/N closes her eyes in embarrassment. 

He continues, “Now we’ve already contacted your emergency contact, a Mr….” once again scrolling on his IPad like a snotty child, “Mr. Adrian Chase. Is that correct?” 

Y/N's hair stands on end, “No!” she practically yells, “No! Not him, can you call someone else?” 

The doctor looks at her strangely, “Miss, we’ve already contacted him, he's on his way, is there a reason you don’t want Mr. Chase to see you?” 

“He can’t! Don’t let him in here! Call someone else, please!” she practically begs. 

The idea of Adrian finding out about this makes her want to curl up and die. 

“Ok, I will tell security to prevent him from entering the room. You need to update your contact information if that is the case however.” 

“Yes yes fine, I will do it when I'm not in a literal hospital bed.” 

The doctors ignored her comment, “Who would you like for us to contact instead?” 

Y/N weighs her options. Both are not exactly optimal. 

Adebayo, or Mrs. Chase. 

She can tell the doctor is getting impatient at her hesitation, so she quickly rattles off the first number that comes to her mind. 

“Now when it comes to your injuries themselves. When we took a sample of your blood and did an X-ray of your whole body because of the lack of details regarding your actual fall,” he pauses to pull up the pictures of the X-ray, “from both of these we’ve come to a few conclusions.” 

“The first conclusion: You have a hairline fracture on your skull, as well as your wrist; we assume that is due to an attempt to break your fall. You also have a break in your right forearm, once again assuming from trying to shield yourself from the falling shelf. The second conclusion, the one that explains a lot about the first, is that your bone density is incredibly low for an individual of your age and weight with no underlying health conditions, due to this we conducted a more specific blood test that indicated you are extremely malnourished. This lack of essential nutrients is likely what caused you to lose your balance and fall.” 

Y/N sits there, trying to listen, but all she can feel is bile rising in her throat. She's had this conversation before, back when she was committed to the hospital in high school for severe bulimia. Adrian thought she’d been on vacation for 2 months; she never told him the truth. The weight of it sits on her chest, pressing. 

“Now, we examined the back of your teeth while you were unconscious and discovered severe burns as well as deteriorated enamel. Given the history in your medical chart I feel I don’t need to ask why you think that might be.” The doctor looks at her pointedly, but all Y/N can do is stare at the door, terrified that Adrian is going to barge in and hear everything the doctor is saying. 

“We have 2 options here Y/N, because the fall could have been caused by bad equipment, I am not going to have you committed again; however, I will need to inject a cocktail of nutrients into your IV, and due to this severe malnutrition, your organs are beginning to fail, so I will either need you to start eating again, or I will put you on a feeding tube.” 

“No! Please, please don't!" Y/N snaps out of it, “I promise! I promise I will eat whatever you give me, just… no feeding tube.” she practically begs the doctor. 

The doctor sighs, shaking his head before “You will be admitted under round the clock care over the next 3 days. If you actually eat the food we provide without purging, then I will release you without issue. But you have to do what we say.” 

The doctor leaves, and through the slats of the window Y/N sees him roll his eyes at the nurses station, clearly pissed at her behaviour.

Slinking down into herself she watches as 2 security guards stand in front of her door, gearing up for the shit storm thats about to come down on them. 

— Adrian

Shoving through the doctors and nurses that lined the hallways, Adrian has never felt more fear in his entire life. His heart is pumping so fast he thinks it might jump out of his chest onto the floor, he feels his face wet with perspiration, maybe a few tears. He doesn’t know what he would do if something irreversible happened to you. 

He shoves past an elderly woman using a walker and nearly knocks her over. Too locked into his destination he doesn’t think to throw an apology over his shoulder. 

When he gets to the door that the nurse at the front said you would be in, his heart jumps to his throat. 

Two large security guards stand in front of it. Checking the ID of a nurse before allowing her to pass into the room. 

He gulps down the bile rising in his throat; security means two things. 

Either you’ve become a secret underground criminal who's been arrested and was injured in the tussle. Or someone found out he’s vigilante tried to take you out to get to him. 

He doesn’t know which would be worse. 

“Is this Y/N L/N’s room?” he asks, crowding the officers to try and peek through the small window in the door. 

“Identification.” the officer demands, looking over his disheveled appearance. 

Adrian guaffs in his face, “Identification?! You guys called me?!” 

The guards exchange a look that he can’t read. 

“Identification sir.” the large bald headed guard says, stepping closer to Adrian- he can’t help but notice it also blocks him from the door. 

Sighing, Adrian rips into his pocket, digging to find his stingray patterned wallet that Y/N got for him on their last trip to the Aquarium; his rips open the velcro, practically tearing out his drivers license and throwing it at the guard. 

The guard looks down at the picture, and then looks back up at Adrian; holding the card next to his face to make sure it's him. 

“That’s me.” 

The guard whispers something he's unable to understand into his walkie talkie before turning back to him. 

“Mr. Chase, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the premises” 

Adrian's blood boils at the notion, “What?! No fucking way?! Is Y/N in there?! What happened to her?! Is she alright?!” 

The guards begin to crowd him away from the door, holding their hands up in a placating motion that Adrian often uses for feral alley cats before they scratch him. 

Dread suddenly fills his stomach. 

“Oh my god.” his voice is small as he stops his struggle against the guards, “Is she dead?”

“You cannot be here.” Mr. Clean says, Adrians never wanted to kill someone more. 

“IS SHE DEAD?!” he practically screams at the guards, spitting all over them and their shiny heads. 

He refuses to answer. 

“Sorry sir, but you have to leave, or we will have to call the police.” 

He can feel the pressure of his anger reaches his head, clouding his vision as he is shoved back toward the entrance doors. 

Adrian debates his choices for a moment, before conceding. 

“Fine. Fine. I’ll go.” shrugging out his shoulders, and rushing out of the doors. 

— Y/N

She sighs as she hears Adrian shruggle against the guards, she never meant for this to happen, she’s never wanted to be a burden; but it seems no matter how hard she tries, it can’t be helped. 

Self fulfilling prophecy. 

She brings her bandaged hands up to her face, pressing hard onto the wound, the pain brings her comfort and something else to focus on. 

Tears well up in her eyes from the agony of her existence. 

Why couldn’t I have been alone when this happened. It would’ve been easier. Simpler. 

Why did Dayle have to call an ambulance? He should’ve left me there. 

She releases a large puff of air, trying to regulate herself before she succumbs to the thoughts that plague her mind. 

Removing her hands from her face, she peels her eyes open to be met with a figure standing in the corner of her room. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” she screams, scrambling backwards in her bed despite the pain it sends through her body. 

As the tears in her eyes clear away, she sees him. Adrian coming towards her with his hands in front of him. 

“What are you doing here?! You shouldn’t be here!!” She yells, pulling the sheets over her to try and cover herself from his view. 

“I shouldn’t be here?!” he yells back, indignant, “You shouldn’t be here, you idiot. What did you do?!”

“Adrian, you need to leave. Now!” she's never yelled at him like this before. Not in her entire life. It feels awful, but the idea of him seeing her so vulnerable makes her ill. 

“No fucking chance!” He plants himself on the chair next to her bed, and grabs her bandaged hand. “What happened?” 

“Adrian I’m not going to tell you, so you might as well leave.” 

He grips her hand harder, making her wince as he leans forward and rests his face on it. 

She can feel her hand becoming wet, as his body starts to shake. 

“Adrian?” she whispers. 

He only convulses further, her bandaged hand now soaked with his tears, as his whole body wracks with the weight of his sobs. 

“Adrian? Honey?” she asks, reaching forward to pet his disheveled hair. 

“Please. Please don't make me go” he begs, pulling her hand closer to him, cradling it in his chest. “Please don’t make me go Y/N, please.” 

Tears stream down his face, fat and wet with their emotion; his voice cracks with the thickness of it. 

“Please Y/N, I was so scared, I thought-” he gulps down, clutching her harder, “I thought you were dead. Please don’t make me go.” 

She’s never seen him like this before, taken aback by it she can feel her own eyes start to tear up watching him. The display made her chest hurt. 

Despite the knowledge that they were best friends, she’s never felt like she’s truly mattered to anyone, like no one would care or even notice if she disappeared, at least, not until now. 

“Please.” he kisses her hand, nuzzling his face into her palm. 

She gulps down her tears, voice coated in all her emotions. 

“Ok honey, you-” swallowing, “you can stay. Of course you can stay.” she whispers, caressing his head. 

He lets out a sigh of relief at her words, keeping his head tucked into her hand, afraid that if he lets go she would disappear. 

“Please don't leave me.” He whimpers. 

She chokes at his words, taken aback at his rare display of emotion. She can’t find it in herself to lie to him, so she says nothing. 

“Please Y/N. I love you.” he mumbles into her hand. 

She hears the heart monitor blip at his words, her heart rate increasing rapidly. 

“What?” she manages to choke out, “-what did you say?” 

When he doesn’t respond she yanks her hand away from his face, “What did you just say Adrian?” she urges. 

“I-” he chokes, scrubbing the tears from his face, “I said, I said-” 

“Do you love me?” she asks hopefully. 

His eyes widened at her words, “Of course I do. Of course.” 

“Really?!” she questions in disbelief, voice breaking. 

“Of course, you’re-”

Suddenly the room shakes with the sound of the door slamming open, rattling the windows, and shaking the bed. 

In storms a spitfire of a woman who carries a midwestern accent around like a weapon coated in honey. 

“ADRIAN ALLEN CHASE, WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

“MOM! What the fuck are you doing here?” shooting up out of his chair so fast he knocks it back. 

“Don’t you dare start with me, what did you do to poor Y/N?” pointing a finger at him. 

“Me?!” he looks around at the room like there's an invisible camera filming him. 

“Yes you?! Who else?!” she approaches the side of the bed, coming over to her and sweetening her voice, “Y/N sweetheart are you alright?” 

“I’ll be ok Mrs. Chase, I'm sorry to have called you.” she smiles, a blush from her interrupted conversation with Adrian still flushing her cheeks. 

“You called her?! What the fuck?!” 

“Now Adrian if you can’t calm yourself I’m going to have to ask you to leave me and Y/N alone.” she sweetly grabs her hand, holding it with all the softness of a mothers love. 

“ME?!” 

“Gosh! Yes you! Adrian, who else would I be talking to?” she pulls up a chair next to Y/N and strokes her hair out of her face gently, like a mother with a newborn babe. 

“This is insane! Y/N why did you call her?! And also, why are those guards outside!? What is going on?!” 

“Adrian go park my car, I need to talk to Y/N for a moment and you’re yelling is making me anxious. I'm sure its not helping Y/N’s condition.” she coos at Y/N, and she can’t help but smile. 

Y/N’s never felt so much love at once, maybe she should’ve gotten crushed by a bunch of books a long time ago. 

“Ugh fine!” he whines stomping his foot, before looking at Y/N, “are you sure you’ll be ok?” 

She sighs, “I’ll be fine Adrian, it’s only for a minute, I’m not going anywhere.” 

He's clearly reluctant in his movements, as if leaving her with his mother is like leaving her with a rabid dog who could bite at any moment. 

“I’ll be back in 2 minutes.” He says before sprinting out of the door. 

His sudden appearance exiting from the room makes the two guards turn to each other with confused expressions, before chasing after him. 

“That should keep him occupied for a while. I took the bus.” Mrs. Chase says, laughing slightly under her breath before turning to Y/N with a loving smile on her face. 

Y/N laughs as well, “Thank you for coming Mrs. Chase, I didn’t want to call Adrian but they did anyway.” 

“Oh sweetheart of course I came.” she sighs, gripping her hand again and sandwiching it between her manicured ones. 

Silence stills over them for a minute, but the air is thick with unanswered questions. 

Finally Mrs. Chase can’t take it anymore, “Did it happen again?” she whispers, as if saying it any louder will make Adrian come running back. 

A long pause settles over them, as Y/N gulps down her words, unable to say them without sobbing, she just nods. 

Mrs. Chase lets out a heavy sigh, squeezing her hand, “Oh honey,” she coos, leaning over to give her a kiss on the forehead, “it’ll be alright, I’m right here. We’re right here.” 

A single tear rolls down Y/N’s cheek at the humiliation, nodding slightly. 

“Does Adrian know this time?” she asks

Before a response can crawl its way out of her throat they hear a booming voice from the doorway, 

“Does Adrian know what?” his voice questions, and it feels like the whole world has just crumbled around them. 

Shit.

-----------

Sorry for the delay for this chapter, I got a new job and have literally been passing out as soon as I get home; I’ve also developed psychosis after my shifts at the blue light factory so I try to avoid more blue light when I get home. 

I hope y'all enjoyed this instalment, I know it was shorter than usual.

If y'all just wanna send me random shit or thoughts you have please dont hesitate to hit up my asks!

Taglist: @lostfallenangelsblog @heretoreadfic

If you want to be added to the taglist just comment on any of the parts of this series.

[vigillantes]

missin this pretty face so much

[adrianmunson]

When will I see my man….

[frey-williams]

When every virgin reader is a petite, white sundress, childish, pigtailed, ‘doe eyed’ innocent girl

[pickledturnips]

The situation that white boys gonna find himself in if he keeps playing in my face.

The vibe thats coming for some of my fics....

[pickledturnips]

Guys please send in requests or ideas I legit have nothing in the tank right now, the blue light vortex has destroyed my creativity.

I write for: Adrian chase, any Jack O’Connell character (except Cook), Benjamin Poindexter, any of the AKOTSK characters (especially Dunk or Daeron), Finn Bennett characters, and more.

[pickledturnips]

Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure every time a man of the month crosses my feed

[pickledturnips]

How it feels trying to decide what AKOTSK character to thirst over

[pickledturnips]

Y’all I had a shit night and want to make it worse! If anyone has recommendations for really angsty fics either on here or AO3 that would be awesome! (Reader or OFC)

For: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, Bullseye, Adrian Chase, or any of Jack O’Connell’s characters!

[remmickssugar]

[bluesycatharsis]

[pickledturnips]

So I edited some of the pics behind @the-darklings Better Bobby fic, cuz it’s literally in my top 5 best pieces of media I’ve ever read.

I had to edit the pics everyone is saying looks like BB (I drew his real eyes and slightly too sharp teeth) and he looks MISERABLE. I love him.

If you haven’t, do yourself a favour and read it - Better Bobby Masterlist

[pickledturnips]

Call me the muffin man how I’m collecting gingerbread men.