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yeyinde · 1 year

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IN DREAMS | Price x GN!Reader

Sweet dreams. Warm knuckles. The ghost of your lips pressing against his crown. He never tells you he doesn't sleep enough, but somehow you just know.

》 WARNINGS: 18+ – MATURE, SMUT | GN!Reader: no use of pronouns, gendered language or anatomy; very soft smut; soft John Price; established couple; gratuitous fluff (does this count as fluff????)

》 WORD COUNT: 4,6K

》 NOTES: Since there were no gender specifications, I kept everything as vague as possible for the descriptions of MC so this could (hopefully!) be easily read as Gen Neutral Reader, Fem Reader, Male Reader, or whatever you prefer. I did my best to exercise as much of the angst out of this as possible but still found myself having to slap my fingers from typing out legions of hurt. This is my BEST attempt at fluff. Sorry.

This is wholly dedicated to this anon!!! I hope you feel better! 🖤

Waking, he finds, is often easier than falling asleep.

It's a quick descent into cognisance, the dream he had—long forgotten, never remembered—fading into smoke in the back of his head. The popcorned wall of his ceiling takes its place. A water stain in the corner—coffee brown. A crack above his head. The hairline fracture is just a small river of black that cuts through off-white.

Falling asleep takes ages, aeons. Lying on his pillow for hours without feeling the talons of sleep dip into his temple.

Silence is consuming. Crushing. It makes the threads of his thoughts echo in the recess of his mind, bouncing off the walls until they bruise. It leaves its mark in the shape of burning eyes, restlessness.

Cureless insomnia.

It's easier with someone else. You.

Price isn't a man who needs much outside of a stiff drink or a rich cigar. Cures to an age-old conundrum in the form of vice—vices because Price was never a man who could just stop at one—but nothing batters the errant thoughts into quiet disinterest quite like you sleeping beside him.

The noises you make are loud enough to drown out the ghosts in his head. Soft snores, the rustle of sheets. Your arm draped over his broad chest keeps him locked to the mattress, forced to forego his usual nighttime ritual of rising after trying—and failing—to fall asleep after a few hours. You stop him when he'd normally pour himself another drink, light a cigar on the deck, and watch the ethereal gloom of midnight swell over this little part of Liverpool he calls home.

Keep him in check.

Though, sometimes, it doesn't work, and he lays awake all night staring at the damned ceiling while you curl up against his side, chasing lavender in your bare palm (a recurring dream, you tell him, and he tries to remember when he last slept long enough to truly have one. He comes up short each time.)

He rises before you, always. Doesn't have the heart to tell you he doesn't sleep. That he stares at the ageing canvass of the ceiling, mind stuck in an endless loop of inanities that are not worth losing sleep but still rake across his mind with a viciousness he knows won't go away until morning, when he wakes in a daze. A fog.

So, when you ask him how it was, running rheum from your eyes, he lies and says it was okay.

But he slept last night. Knows it because he dreamed.

Falling lavender. Knuckles warm, soft against his temple. A voice—susurrus, low; the sibilant echo of sweet dreams whispered against his ear.

Sweet dreams.

Sleep, as an insomniac, is always a double-edged sword. No matter how many hours he spends chasing REM, that fickle mistress, she always evades him in the end. Dancing just out of reach.

He wakes up feeling worse each time. Over-exhaustion. The paradoxical conundrum of being too tired to sleep.

He feels the same clutch of evanescent slumber tangles through his lashes, making his lids too heavy to open, but it's dulled. Lessened.

Price forces himself to keep his eyes open, staring at the blurry ceiling above. He wakes to this sight every morning. A familiar ritual. Three blinks. He watches the ceiling gradually grow clearer.

His hand threads across the sheets, and where he expects to find the warmth of your skin, he instead meets empty space. The sheets are already leaking the heat you left behind.

Price blinks, lashing clinging together from the sleep crystallising along the crease of his eyes. He has a headache needling behind his brow, a tension building from lack of sleep, and—

His tired eyes slide from the empty bed to the half-smoked cigar sitting in the ashtray. The empty glass of scotch beside it.

He's found a cure for woes in the form of a stiff drink—scotch, neat; and a side of spring water—and a perfectly rolled cigar. Vices, of course: the kind that rots his insides, and stains his teeth.

Cirrhosis. Emphysema. All the ugly little warnings on the back of a tobacco box.

But it numbs the ache in his bones, and the ghosts in his head, so he considers it an equivalent exchange.

(Just one that takes more than its fair share when he doesn't oblige by the rules.)

There is a respite from the steadily growing throb behind his left eye when he grinds the heel of his palm into his eyelids. A brief moment of fleeting pleasure. It rears when he pulls his hand away, letting them fall to the sheets.

Today feels a little off-kilter.

Without you grumbling about sleeping in beside him, peacefully chasing after lavender, and the same dream clotting behind his eyelids, he feels distinctly out of place.

His hand slides over to your spot, fingers curling around the cooling sheets. The blankets are tucked in around him.

Sweet dreams. Warm knuckles. The ghost of your lips pressing against his crown.

He never tells you he doesn't sleep enough, but somehow you just know.

You're not hard to find. He can hear the rattle of the old pipes as you shower; the hiss of the water hitting the title.

Lured in like a beacon, a siren's call, he follows the breadcrumbs that lead him to you.

Your silhouette is a dark line against the old curtain he keeps meaning to replace, but even the shadow of you seems to dampen the maligned feeling curling in his gut.

A sight, he thinks, for sore, tired eyes.

He rasps on the doorframe, announcing his presence. You scare easily, he finds, and he'd rather not get a bottle of your shampoo tossed at his head for the trouble.

The curtain peels back. You greet him through the cracks, blinking owlishly through the rivulets running down your forehead.

"Room for one more?"

A wide grin stretches across your face as you nod eagerly before disappearing behind the curtain once more. The spray of the shower swallows the echo of your laughter.

"Thought you were gonna sleep all day, old man," you call, loud and exaggerated. He watches your arms lift over your head, fingers threading over your scalp.

You think you're funny. Charming.

(He does, too—he'll never admit it, of course, but he laughs the hardest when it's just you and him; when the world around you fades into the background, and all he can hear is your effervescent giggles over the words you uttered, the jokes that always come after the punchline. The ones that fall flat, that miss.

It's funnier, you say. When it isn't supposed to be, you know?)

You wander through life with ease in your gait, a sense of peace in your mien like the world and everything in it is your best friend. Comfortable in your own skin, content with your lot in life. Happy, he thinks, just to be included. To be a part of it.

Happy to have him in it.

"Might have," he mutters, affection blooming in the gnarled remains of his heart.

You bring a sense of chaos to his life that feels like watching a nasty storm brew in the distance from the sanctity of his window. Laughter that sounds like a whip of lightning striking the pavement, close enough to smell the ozone, to have his neck prickle with danger, but far enough to feel safe. A voice that echoes like a thunderclap. Pelting hail. A torrential rainfall. A gale.

(All his life he was told to run from storms, but you make him want to chase the calamity brewing in the distance; to feel the hazard against his skin.)

"But I couldn't sleep without you snorin' in my ear."

"I do not—!"

Your words of indignation taper off into a yelp when he pulls the curtain back fully, letting the chill of the mid-spring morning drift over your slick skin. Goosebumps ripple across your trembling flesh—no longer a tantalising tease behind plastic (ohh, you cooed when you first saw the simple navy and blue striped curtain. Very predictable, cap; very you) but bared to his eager, hungry eyes.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight that greets him, a low rumble spreading through his chest. "Well, don't you look cosy?"

"It's my day off," you whine, shivering when he draws out getting into the water behind you. "Let me pamper myself a little bit."

"Don't you get pampered enough?"

"Do I?"

His hands settle on your waist, nose bushing against the wet space between your ear. When he breathes in, the familiar scent of you floods his lungs. Warm milk. Honey sweet. A touch of loam, something bitter. The acrid tang of your sweat still clinging to your hairline. It reminds him of sex. Of your dewy skin when he has you pressed into the mattress, head burrowed into his neck, he fucks into the tight clutch of your willing body.

He stirs. Want smouldering low and heavy in his belly. You feel it when he presses tight against your back, but there's no rush. He feels no urgency to seek release. To get off. He just—

Wants.

Always, really. There is this distant buzz of desire that sits low in his belly whenever you're around. A constant simmer.

Wanting you, he finds, is the same as craving a draw of nicotine behind his teeth.

"Always," he rasps, nose running down the length of your neck. The warm spray of the shower rouses him from the last tendrils of sleep, clearing the congealed rheum around his lash line. "You always get pampered, love."

When you hum, he feels it reverberate through his chest. "You're slacking today then, John."

His hands slide from their perch against your hips, your quivering stomach. Soft skin, slick from the water, flutters under his touch. He dips his hand down to cup your sex in the palm of his hand, feeling the heat of you bleed into his skin.

"How do you want to be pampered then, love?"

You lean back against his chest, tucking yourself into the fold of his body where you fit like a mismatched puzzle piece, bent and cut until it slides in. The gaps between your bodies are filled with the steam that curls off the hot water pulsing down around you.

"Just—fuck, John—," you gasp when his thumb rubs soft circles over your sensitive skin, arching into his embrace. "Just—ah, just this—"

"Want me to wash you?" He presses his hips into the plush softness of your ass cheeks. "Or want me to get you off?"

His question makes you mewl, thighs spreading to fit more of his hand between them. "A–anything—both—"

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

"Fuck, John—"

Your petulant whine disintegrates into a soft hum when he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tighter to his chest. His chin settles on the plinth of your shoulder, watching his fingers trail over your sateen flesh.

He's content to just feel you. The keen in your naked chest when his thumb brushes over a spot that makes you melt. The harsh pants; soft, languid little noises slipping through your wet lips—uh, uh, uh—interwoven with the hymn of his name. The shudders that wrack through your body when he presses the fat length of him against the plush seat of your ass. Your hips cant, rocking into his hold, as you greedily seek your release.

Your fingers curl around his thick wrist, thumb and forefinger barely able to lock in the middle, and it's the sight of you wholly in his grasp that ignites a childish sense of glee in his chest.

He's never been a particularly possessive man.

The transient lifestyle he led, the one he'd been primed for since he was young, and everyone around him just expected that he'd follow in his father's, his grandfather's footsteps, doesn't allow such luxury.

And he'd never been the type of man to take it. To want it, to pursue it. He was content with the ephemeral romance that came and went, a flickering flame that bloomed bright before eventually burning out. It was easier.

Lonelier, too.

You had been unexpected—a squall.

Your presence has ripped through his life like a violent tornado, leaving everything turned upside down in your wake.

You left him wanting.

It always seemed silly to run toward the thing that could kill you, but when you grinned at him—the recession of water before a tsunami hit—he finally understood why some people chase danger their whole lives.

He thought he'd have to adjust, to make room for you when there is no more space left.

But storms don't squeeze to fit.

They rip through.

He supposes, then, that there's no need to worry about making room when there are no walls left standing.

"Give you whatever you want, love," the words are a broken snarl in his throat, bleeding with the tangled remnants of his filthy desire; an aching sense of possession, and hunger. "Anythin' you want. Anythin'. Jus'—"

The empty bed flashes behind his eyes. Your side, now cold to the touch; the heat already fading out from the sheets. Whispered promises in the sleep-stained curl of his hair.

"Jus' stay—," the mangled plea is a faulty firecracker in his throat.

His arms tighten around you. Possession, he finds, is a silly thing. Ownership. Covetousness. All of it means substantially little to him when the only home he'd ever known is a duffle bag packed full of clothes he'd never wear.

And then he comes home to you. The space is saturated with your scent. Little markings around the flat that remind him of your presence. That scream out into the desolate stagnancy of a place that was always covered in a fine sheet of dust, and cobwebs, that you were here. Are here.

The fridge is stocked. The cupboards are full.

His bed slept in. Calendar marked with dates that mean something to you—meetings, negotiations, birthdays of people who matter in your life.

Scented candles run out the stench of disuse.

The days when your worlds don't overlap, and he comes home to an empty flat in a city he thinks he loves, he's never felt emptier.

It's harder to sleep those nights, too.

The whisper of an empty bed haunts him, echoes isolation and loneliness each time he reaches out and can't feel the warmth of your skin.

"Greedy," you mock, words a breathy mewl that are quickly swallowed by the hiss of the shower. Your fingers tighten around his wrist, clinging to him as he works you through the gentle waves of pleasure, slowly letting you drift toward the precipice of your release.

It's when the other reaches up behind you to thread through his damp locks, nails scratching across his temple, that he finds himself a little lost under the swell of you. Swept away by your breakneck pace.

Possession, he thinks, and finds himself drawn to the way your fingers curl around him. How you hold him tight, keeping him locked against you as you take. Syphon your pleasure from the feel of him against your skin.

Hard, wanting, he barely thinks of himself when he grinds his pelvis into your ass, cock slipping between the globes of your cheeks. Too enraptured by the way you fit in the palm of his hand (in his head, his bed, his house, his life—) to worry about anything else.

"Tha's it," he slurs the word into your neck, the scratch of his beard catching the droplets that run down the smooth column of your throat. "Jus' like that, love."

You writhe against his hand, strangled noises slipping from between the parted seam of your mouth. It's when his name falls, bitten in half when you snap your teeth together, lips curled, does he realise he's not even kissed you yet.

His hand slides to cup your jaw, craning your neck until your chin rests on your shoulder. He meets you with a kiss, and can't stop the groan that rumbles out when he feels the weight of your lips on his.

"You're extra touchy today," you breathe into his open mouth, words curling around his teeth. He tastes you when he swallows, and it soothes the burn in his joints; the ones that ache for nicotine. "What's got you in such a mood?"

"A mood?" He volleys, thumb rubbing the skin of your cheekbone, keeping you locked against him. He isn't ready to forfeit the taste of you, the feel of your lips moulding against his. "What kind'a mood do you think I'm in?"

"You're—," you gasp so prettily when he touches you in tandem with his peppered kisses; back arching in a way that makes him throb. "—clingy," you pant, breath warm and sweet when it ghosts over his tongue. "Needy."

You have this way of pulling truths out of him. Like you know how to crack his skull open, and rifle around inside until you find what you're looking for. A remarkable ability to galvanise his whims into words.

Price doesn't even try to bite them back when they slip out, syphoned into the air from your pull. A black hole. A vacuum. You consume.

(And he lets you.)

"Wakin' up," he starts, words trailing off when you buck, clumsily, into his palm.

He devours you, then, swallowing down each moan and grunt you make as he brings you close to the edge, desperately wanting to see you fall. Break apart in his hold.

"Tha's it, love." He murmurs, trailing open-mouthed kisses across the smooth column of your throat. His matted beard grazes your sensitive skin until you shiver, whimpering from the coarseness of it juxtaposed to the soft kisses, and teases of his teeth in small nips he plants over your slick flesh. "Come on—wanna see you cum for me."

It doesn't take much to bring you to the brink. Years of learning your body, of decoding the little places and tricks that make you howl for him, have given him the insight into how to work you to completion. He uses them all, a softer, muted descent up that wobbling precipice, and knows when your toes are dipping over the edge when your nails bite into his skin, and your hips buck into his palm.

You're a pretty little thing when your eyes snap shut, mouth dropping open as you dive down the vertiginous slope and into the maddening clutch of nirvana.

His pretty little thing.

He cups you in the palm of his hand, a fluttering little bird beating against his lifeline, and wonders if he can entice you to crawl back in bed with him, nestled tight under the covers while he spends the whole day worshipping every inch of precious flesh.

Might be able to, he thinks, when you go lax in his hold, chest shuddering with the shocks of pleasure the tips of his fingers bring.

"God, John—" you whine when he keeps it up,

stroking your sensitive, throbbing flesh until your knees threaten to give in. "Stop—I can't—"

You could. He knows your body by now. Knows he could get you off again and again until you were a weeping mess tangled in sex-soaked sheets, begging him for reprieve. He nudges against your mettle each time, rapacious to see how far he can push you until you're overstimulated, and barely conscious.

Greedy. Always.

His hunger for you is never satiated. No matter how many times he buries himself inside of you, it's never enough. A ceaseless wanting deep in his gnarled chest to have, to consume. Something in the polluted pit of what was once the heart of a man who didn't think he'd succumb to greed, to gluttony, now wants to devour you whole. Ingurgitate you into his marrow, into the rotted remains of his still-beating heart where you'll stay, safe and sound, forever.

His fingers itch, even now, to delve deep into your being. And so, he does.

Tries to, really. But there's a surprising dearth of strength hidden in your body, and he lets you go without a sound when you push against his wandering, hungry hands.

You twist in his hold, knees buckling as you try to slide down for him, but he stops you.

"No, love," he rasps, the words ungluing reluctantly from his throat. "Later. Jus' wanna take care'a you for a moment, mm?"

His arm winds around your waist, pulling you taut against him. His cock is trapped between your bodies, leaking prespend over your quivering stomach. Price thinks he could get off like this. Staring at you like this—eyes lidded, cresting in the aftershocks of your bliss; gazing up at him through heated skin, warmed from the molten spray of the shower pelting across your body; lips blistered and bruised from his kisses, and the abrasive scrape of his beard over your flesh—he doesn't think it'll take much to get him there, but he finds he likes the delay a little more than usual today.

Likes the lazy way you lean into him, fingers threading through the damp, matted hair on his chest before sliding your palms down to where he aches. His cock juts up between your soft belly, and trembling thighs—fleshed vermillion, and swollen. Your fingers dance across his weeping slit, catching the thick pre-spend gathering there. The feel of your flesh on him—hot, and softened from the water—sends tendrils of pleasure coiling through his loins.

He won't last. Not when you rest your chin against his sternum, staring up at him as you languidly work your hand over the head of his cock. Eyes heavy, drunk with the slow ebb of your bliss.

You paint a pretty picture. One he finds he could stare at all day—every day—if you'd let him.

Mauldin spools in his eyes. He knows this by the way your hands spasm around him, eyes catching the frisson that flickers across his face, mirrored in your liquid gaze.

"What were you saying earlier?" You murmur, pressing a kiss to his slick chest. "Waking up—?"

You're teasing him, of course. The impish twitch to your lips gives you away.

"Wakin' up alone—," he grumbles, hips canting into your grip. "Guess it made me miss you some."

The impact of the words on you is breathtaking. The sudden bashful dip of your chin, the flutter of your lashes as you drink in his words—it's a sight that tucks away in the fibrils of his heart, kept safe for later when he's all alone in his bed, or off in some corner of the world with bullets raining down on him.

(You don't have to worry much about bullets, you always quip, the barb in your voice, the teasing nonchalance, dulled by the quiver in your joints. You've fallen out of a helicopter more than you've been shot at.

He's never felt more drawn to you than when you're struggling through the fear gnarling in your eyes to joke about the many ways he'll die just to bring him some iota of comfort.)

His release bubbles quicker than he'd expected, aided when you press a soft, gentle kiss to his thundering heart. A wild storm on the horizon, one that leaves no wall left standing. You break him into pieces without even so much as a murmur.

Price falls apart in your hands, and he thinks, then, about the promise in his dream.

I'll catch them all for you, he'd said when you pointed to the whirling lavender petals falling down around you, eyes light with wonder. All of them. Jus' promise me you'll stay—

Your knuckles against his temple. The sun dawning in the curve of your smile. You breathe and he tastes wildflowers on his tongue.

Stay? You echo, teeth flashing. But—

"I'd never leave you, John."

He shudders in your grasp, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, slanting his mouth over yours in a clumsy, searing kiss.

Your name is drenched in benediction when he spills himself all over you, words a hushed gospel over the altar of your tongue.

You pull away from him, eyes gazing toward the field of yellow sprawled around the hazel boscage.

When he looks up, he finds thunderclouds on the horizon. A looming storm.

"It's gonna rain," you murmur.

He rumbles. "Doesn't it always?"

"Only when you're around."

He catches a petal in his palm. That shape of it reminds him of the curve of your smile. He tucks it in his breast pocket for safekeeping.

"Best keep me around for a while, then, mm, love?"

The sound of your laughter is swallowed by the crack of lightning.

In life, he finds there is nothing better than a cigar, and a finger of scotch after a round of sex.

(Or anything, really.)

He sparks the lightener, holding it to the end, and takes quick puffs from the stem. The sound of burning paper crackles as it burns in the flames.

Price stands on the balcony, eyes aimlessly drifting across the docks. The water is grey, nearly black; shaded by the approaching storm in the distance. A dark cloud on the gunmetal horizon. He tastes ozone in the air; the electric buzz of a gathering lightning strike.

The morning leaves him feeling off-kilter. The dream—dreaming, even—and the empty bed still sits in the pit of his guts. Uncomfortable, disquieted.

He's anxious, he notes, fingers trembling around the fat stem of his cigar. Each draw does little to quell it. Nicotine and scotch on little sleep and an empty stomach do nothing to calm his ruffled nerves. A state he hadn't fallen into since he watched Laswell grow smaller and smaller on the horizon.

He nearly smoked three cigars back to back before Gaz snatched his lighter.

("Don't think this is helping you much, cap.")

It does. Did.

But—

Your arms snake through the brackets of his elbows, curling around his waist. He's too tall for you to notch your chin on his shoulder, and so you settle for leaning over, and peaking out around the bulk of his broad back.

"Lovely morning for it," you murmur.

He catches your eye, teeth sinking into the stem of the cigar to hold it steady as his hands drop to your forearms. He catches the derision in your gaze. The pointed look you send him, sarcasm dropping from your eyes when they swing, pointedly, between the clock on the wall—barely noon hour—to the cigar in his mouth, and the glass of scotch on the patio table. Wordless disapproval of his mid-morning choices. His vices.

It makes his lip twitch up, pulling back from his teeth. It's hard to talk around the delicately balanced cigar clenched between his incisors, but years of practice lead him well.

"Ain't it jus'?"

He likes it when you're close to him.

Needy, you'd said. Clingy.

He feels it, too. There's a desperation inside of him, a clawing sense of affection woven with the threads of anxiousness, and it makes him unsettled when you're too far away from his greedy hands.

His fingers latch around your arms.

"You should stop smoking so much," you say in that tone he knows well—the one that, despite the subdued words murmured in a soft breath, actually means: stupid old man, you better listen or so help me God—

The same tone his mother had perfected when he was younger. Equal parts hedging, cautious, but firm enough to feel the blooming heat behind them. A caustic warning. One that, translated, means: there won't be another one.

No more chances when you speak to him like that. None.

And he gets it.

He's on the wrong side of forty, and you're tired of the ashes on the sheets, the cigar burns punched through the mattress you just bought (at a steal, you'd said, gleeful and bright, and—fuck).

So, he says, "sure, love."

(And really, giving up that extra cigar a day seems easy when you smile at him like that.)

You say nothing when he holds you a little bit tighter to his body, keeping you close; but he catches the soft sigh when he relaxes in your arms, and the tension bleeds from his shoulders.

You make a soft noise when he stubs the cigar in the ashtray, and then turns to you, eyes heavy.

Thunder cracks in the distance. The heavens split in two sending a deluge down that rips across the grey docks. Liverpool smells of ozone and wet pennies in the downpour.

Price pulls you in to his chest, hands heavy on your skin. Firm, rough. He's never been a gentle man, but you make him want to try. To be tender. Soft. Whatever you need, and more. Anything, he thinks. Anything.

You echo the call, and place your warm palm on his cheek, lids cresting in that sleepy desire that never fails to make his heart race.

He likes the way you make yourself fit against him - an imperfect puzzle piece - and draws you close when you lean up on the balls of your feet, eager to meet him in the middle. It's a searing kiss, the kind that instantly warms him against the sweeping winds howling through the wet streets below.

Nirvana in whispers. A soft tongue tracing the seam of his lips. He imagines this is the closest to peace a man like him will ever get, and it makes him hold on to you just a shade tigher. A bit more desperate. Unwilling - unable - to let go.

Thunder booms in the aether above, and echoes through his hollow bones. He feels the pulse of it thudding in his throat when it strikes again, and scents the livewire tang of a lightning strike when it cracks across the grey sky in a blinking, evanescent flash that makes you jump a little when it hits.

Price huffs into the kiss when you tremble in his arms, and holds you closer in the bracket of his chest.

"Jus' a storm, love," he whispers, the words a rough rasp pulled from his throat. "It'll pass."

"I know," you murmur, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt when another strikes scorches the pavement.

"Maybe I should distract you, mm?" He peppers kisses across your face, brows drawing together. "Could go for a nap after."

It makes you hum, a soft, honeyed coo. ", Take me to bed, John."

"Gladly, love."

He's never felt more at peace than in the middle of a terrible storm.

(But that should be a given considering they always seem to remind him of you.)

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byanyan · 8 months

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byan vc: i'm a knife guy but i do always carry a couple'a guns on me ... *flexes*

#this is so stupid I'm sorry #I wanted to try finishing the last of those angst prompts tonight but #today got weird and I only just had dinner so uhhhhh I think I'm gonna vibe #try to finish those tomorrow so I can get back to my drafts like a good rper :x #love y'all ♡#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ shitpost ⋮ bold of you to assume i've reached peak dumbass.

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youronlydarlin · 3 months

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warning: HEAVY ANGST, Simon can't stop crying, Sad Simon, u die sorry :(

Simon holding your corpse and it's just. A mess. Jus' thinkin about him fully breaking down, hunched over your body. Growling out words of venom to anyone who comes close.

He's nearly shot Johnny when he tried to pry you away from him. Good thing Price managed to get some distance between them.

It shakes their very core. Seeing just how vulnerable their lieutenant is. He's shaking, and crying like a little boy. And his sobs sound painful. Like each tear, and breath is being ripped straight out of his throat. It's a heart wrenching sight, and not a single one of them has the courage to speak, or to comfort. And maybe it's their way of showing respect for you. For what's passed.

Meanwhile your Simon is just wracking with sobs. His tears are never ending, and not a moment later does he start to beg. Sounding almost possessed and hysterical as he goes on a tangent.

"My baby....my baby...."

He weeps. Voice cracking, trying to pull you impossibly close to his chest. As if he could share his heartbeat with you. You were his lifeline, and now it's getting harder and harder to breathe without you. His tears trickle down to your face, and it makes it seem like you're crying too. Like you're sorry for leaving so soon, for not being able to say goodbye, for not being able to say 'I love you. The thought shatters Simon and now he's shaking with a new wave of tears dampening his mask.

"Just wake up... please just–just come back..."

He whispers, and he hated how everybody heard. Except you.

a/n: uhhhhh, once again I am practicing my angst, and english skills! This also served as like, a character analysation?? I jus' wanted to see how far I could get at giving a character despair. Think I did pretty well, criticism, and corrections to my grammar are always welcome by the way! And I hope your taking care of yourself, my loves! Till next time!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod x reader #cod imagine #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader angst #cod x reader angst

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yorshie · 1 year

Text

Pick Up The Phone

Bayverse x FemReader PART TWO

tags/summary: violence, torture, cussing, hurt reader, angst, uhhhhh symptoms of shock? (I'm not to the point where I am writing an outright relationship but the undertones are there)

Reader has a date go sideways and the turtles come to the rescue, but there's a difference between seeing violence on tv and seeing someone you care for commit it.

Set in 2023 (Turtles aged up)

Leo would have called this an 'I told you so moment’.

You wished he was here, would have listened to his lecture on being more careful and not letting your guard down, if only for the fact that suffering through a powerpoint on ‘fifty ways today could go wrong’ would be happening on the way to the med bay, where hopefully Donnie would inform you that your arm was, in fact, not broken, and you were just being a little bit dramatic.

You deserved a few moments of dramatics at this point.

Your phone buzzed again, loud and angry in your hand, but you ignored it, knowing it wasn’t the number you wanted, needed. The screen was cracked, half the touchpad dead, and you weren’t even going to try to answer unless it was one of your friends.

Your face felt hot, sticky, but it was your arm that gave you worry. It had settled into a prickly pain that felt like a coiled snake, skin feverish and swelling quickly to the point your long-sleeved shirt felt constricting. Thank god it was dark outside, not many people around, easier to hide the side of your body that felt like it had shattered when you went down the stairs.

You paused under a street lamp, looked left and right, behind. The coast was clear, you felt far enough away. Your right hand pressed, shaky, on the screen, and you cursed, your fingers catching on the cracks as you fought with the half dead technology to hit a number, any number, on your short list.

Finally, failing, letting out a rough hiss, you jammed the phone on its side against your chest and held the button for assist.

It dinged, and you tucked your chin, whispering, “Siri, call Leo.”

“Sorry. Did you say ‘Call Leo’?” The answer, loud, carrying, had a shiver break across your shoulders, a cramp starting in your neck as your body tried to compensate the weight of keeping one side stationary.

“Yes.” It came out angry, even quieter, but the phone heard, and you watched as the screen changed, for once not trying to hit the speaker button.

The damaged screen was hot against your face, and you cradled it against the right side, unconsciously moving away from the light as you caught the distant shadow of a figure moving towards you.

The voicemail beeped, and you felt your face fall, not bothering to listen to the whole automated message. You set the phone back on your chest, pressed firm on the half lit ‘hang up’ button, fought a sniffle as it didn’t work.

You hissed out a breath again, pressed your forehead against the screen, and gritted out, “c'mon Leo, please- please, get your phone, please.”

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

“Hey, we on for movie night tonight?” Raph’s voice echoed throughout the lair as he hopped the turnstiles into the main room, depositing a pack of soda onto the common area table as he went.

“Don’t know,” Mikey’s voice floated from far above, and Raph ducked as his brother swooped down, the propulsion on his skateboard whining as he banked hard and jumped over a pipe. “Babycakes said something about having plans, told me and Donnie to not wait up.”

“Plans?” Raph frowned, cast his brother a look over his shoulder as he paused.

“Yea, Dee thinks it’s that guy we’re suppose to pretend to not know about.”

“Well, you’re doing an excellent job of that,” Raph sassed, already moving, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He stuck his head into the lab, careful not to move past the neon tape marking the entrance. “Hey, Don? You hear from girlie tonight?”

“No, not recently, but that’s not surprising.” Done answered, popping up from a workbench and moving towards his brother. “I sent a couple messages to her earlier, but I think she muted her phone, hasn’t answered.”

Before Raph could comment, he heard Mikey’s voice again. “Yea, she hasn’t even responded to the epic battle of cat gifs today, and we’ve had that thing rollin’ since Tuesday.”

Raph snorted, loudly, just to let Mikey know he was ridiculous, but Donnie hummed, brows shifting in confusion. “Hm, well… maybe Leo knows something.”

“Knows something about what?” Came the reply, the eldest stepping out from the dojo, swords clasped in his hand instead of strapped across his shell.

Raph jerked his chin towards him, “You talk to princess today?”

Leo paused, looked from Raph to Donnie. “No, but my phone’s been up in my room. Usually if she wants to talk, she does it in person.”

“Just go check your phone, numskull.” Raph gestured, and Leo scoffed, walking up the ramp to his room.

Donnie was already returning to the lab, grabbing his phone where it sat on the main desk. He frowned at the screen, calling back over his shoulder to Raph. “Got a missed call from her, just now.” The phone buzzed again, lighting up slightly brighter in his face. “Aaand now a voicemail.”

Raph moved to Donnie’s shoulder, crowding up into his space, as Donnie flicked the device open and navigated to the phone app.

“Donnie?”

They both froze, twin shivers working across their shells and down their legs like ice water at the hissed voice.

“Donnie, please, please- I need help-.”

It sounded like - like crying.

Raph was suddenly alone, a Donnie shaped hole next to him, as the taller brother all but teleported to his main station and started typing furiously on one keyboard.

Muffled, a harsher voice in the distance, and then your breath heaved out across the speaker, loud and uneven, the slap of footsteps echoing in the background. Raph could hear the next words from clear across the room.

“I’m not going back with you, leave me alone!”

“Donnie! We got a problem!” Leo was back. Raph spared him a glance, feet cemented to the floor, and saw the flash of an Otterbox in his hand.

“She called you, too?”

He saw Leo mouth the word too, before Donnie’s voicemail started up again, and he went silent, still.

It was that harsher voice again, this time clearer, closer. “Hey, c’mon, at least let me take you to the hospital-”

Raph felt something knock into him, saw Mikey shrug his shoulder out of the way, uncharacteristically solemn as he asked: “Donnie, where we goin, bro?”

A loud ringtone blared throughout the lab before Donnie could answer, and Raph all but ripped the seams on his pocket trying to get his phone out. He cut off the cheery jingle about sunshine, Donnie’s hissed “speaker, speaker” reminding him to hit the extra button instead of just screaming into the receiver:

“Princess!?”

“Raph?” And oh, the pain in his chest at that one word.

“Where are you, talk to me.” He felt crowded, Mikey against one shoulder, Leo at his back, but he fought the urge to shake them off.

“Who the fuck is Ra-”

“Your worst goddamn nightmare, if you don’t quit following me, asshat!” He could have kissed you for that, but that ball of ice in his gut solidified at the angry answer fired back:

Oh, so this is why you were guarding your pho-” The voice cut off, and they all heard the painful gasp that followed, your hiss audible.

“Donnie, work faster!” Leo all but shouted, but Donnie was already flying, grabbing gear as fast as he could. They scrambled out of the lab, Raph and Mikey racing for the dojo, hot on the others’ heels as they leaped the turnstiles and raced to see who would get out to the tunnels first.

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

Your call with Raph got disconnected in the struggle, but at that point all the despair, all the pain, got balled up in the center of your chest and turned into rage. You had minutes, maybe fifteen at the most, before the calvary arrived, and the idiot currently trying to haul you back to the street by your good shoulder would be in for a world of hurt.

“Stop! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!”

He ignored you, still pulling you away from the alley, from the manhole cover you’d been trying to pry open.

“You aren’t thinking clearly, why the fuck are you trying to go down into the sewer?”

“Let. Me. Go.” You stepped forward quickly, stomped his foot, jerked back just as fast.

“Fuck, you little bitch-”

The manhole cover behind you rocketed off the ground, disappearing into the dark with a loud crash and you felt like laughing at the sheer relief, your arm suddenly free as the man grabbing you was unceremoniously jerked away.

He was emitting a high pitched whine, the sound disappearing the harder Raph squeezed.

That relief bubbled away at the sight of violence, big hands slowly squeezing. You looked up at his face, expecting murder, bracing for it.

Devastated by the look of hatred in its stead.

Someone's arms wrapped around you, Mikey, you distantly thought, but you pulled against the warm push of muscle. “Stop- stop him-”

“Back off, Raph,” Leo barked, and you shivered as Raph dropped the man with a thud.

A quick glance around made you realize that, while relief had been your first emotion, something much darker had a hold of the turtles.

Donnie took up your vision as Leo moved past, large hands cool as he took your face between them and together with Mikey tried to turn you away.

Craning your neck, you could just make out the hiss of steel being drawn as Leo stopped over the crumpled figure on the ground.

A fear wormed its way into your heart, beating louder and louder. “Wait, wait- stop. Leo! Stop!”

He pulled up short like a puppet on strings, and you curled your good arm across Mikey’s bicep, trying for just a little wiggle room. Donnie’s thumbs still tracking across the bad side of your face as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“I need-I need you guys to take me to the lair.” The words left in a rush, your tone almost panicked, desperate that they take the bait. “Please, Raph. Leo. Please, I need you all to take me to the lair.”

“She’s got a broken arm,” Donnie called, as if you hadn’t spoken. “The head wound seems superficial, but it’s a lot of blood.”

You swatted away his hands, kept your eyes over his shoulder, tip toeing, pulling against Mikey. “Leave him, its not worth -”

Wrong thing to say. Raph moved faster than you could think. The crunch of bone against pavement the only warning before a high pitch scream left the man still on the ground.

The near growled whoops was darker than you had heard his voice before, but Leo only huffed a low chuckle that did nothing to ease your fears.

“Don, She’s nicked here,” Mikey’s murmur jerked you back, made you realize the calloused hands on you had moved. His grip had shifted, one arm across your chest, the other pulling at the hem of your shirt, thumb tucked into the crease of your hip.

Donnie’s finger moved to cover the broken skin, and you hissed, breath broken, babbling: “Stairs. Stairs- I fell down the stairs leaving-”

“Oh?” Leo’s voice reached you, and you cut yourself off, jaw snapping shut despite the fact that the tone wasn’t aimed at you. “I didn’t know you were called ‘stairs’. Nice to meet you.”

You couldn’t see what he did, but whatever it was pulled out a gargled whine.

Your hand finally unlatched from Mikey’s wrist, grabbed a hold of Donnie’s arm, tightened until you knew your nails were digging in. “Donnie- Donatello! Listen!”

Hazel eyes snapped to your face, and you continued, desperate to establish contact. “You are better than this, you all are better than this. Call it, Dee. Get me to the Lair."

His eyes flickered, you felt hope. “I’m really tired, Dee. My arm hurts so bad, please.”

His mouth pulled up at one corner, as if he knew what you were doing, saw straight through to the panic. He straightened to his full height, and you let that relief blossom, felt the pain in your arm again as he turned.

He whispered something, low, to Leo, and you watched, helpless in Mikey’s grip, as they turned in unison to your failed date.

“If.” Leo lowered himself, and you saw the sway of the blade in his hand, saw the way the man seemed hypnotized by the threat. “You. Ever. So much as think ill of her, we will know. And we will find you.”

Mikey’s chest vibrated under you back as he chuckled, his lyrical tone causing you to shiver. “Look at the big man quiver. Fucked up the wrong tree, bro.”

You bit your tongue, hard, fighting the urge to try and hurry them, goad them into leaving faster, knowing it might snap whatever hold you had and they’d go back into torment mode.

You didn’t release your breath until you all were in the tunnel below, good arm coming up to wrap around Mikey’s neck as he shifted you, careful of your bad side, gait long and even as they ate up miles.

Finally, a good ten minutes in, and you finally raised your head from his neck to ask, “Is my arm really broken?”

Heard Donnie hum an affirmative, and lowered your nose back to tuck against the juncture of Mikey’s neck. “Just one break, in your forearm. I’m hypothesizing you stuck it out to break a fall?”

“I really did take a trip down the stairs,” it felt wrong to try to inject humor, but they were so silent except for the sound of their feet on the cement. You tried to fill the silence again. “He only pushed me against the wall, only tried to get my phone. If I’d been smarter-”

A heavy hand, finger curling under your chin, and you let him, met Raph’s gaze, “If you say ‘only’ one more time, I’m turnin’ round.”

You made a strangled nose, disappeared back into the safety of Mikey’s hold, felt his hand soothe the shiver that had started in your shoulders, down your spine.

Donnie kept the med bay sterile, bleach clean. The white tiled walls boxed you in as Mikey set you on the patient bed, gently removing the grip you had on his wrist so Donnie could take his place.

They filled the room til the space was fit to burst, and you felt the tension, drowned in it with every pass of the soft cloth Donnie rubbed across your face, every brush of your knee against his leg. You had no idea who was wound tighter, you or them.

Finally, when Donnie moved back and you blinked at the harsh light after minutes of keeping your eyes clenched tight, Leo sighed. A deep, chest rattling exhale of breath, and it was like those imaginary puppet strings were finally cut, and you slumped your good shoulder against the wall behind you.

You could almost see him open his mouth even though you were faced the opposite way, and belatedly remembered how you had looked forward to his powerpoint presentation earlier. A smile worked its way onto your face, a twisted thing, gone as soon as you felt the atmosphere shift again.

“The fuck you smilin’ about?” Raph. And you swallowed heavily, mind flickering back to big hands squeezing.

“Raph.” Leo’s reprimand was soft, different from the bark earlier. You suddenly wanted him to snap, wanted the anger. Wanted them to at least stay on one page so you had a hope of processing it.

You felt tears, now of all times, escape their ledge, start tracking down your face as Donnie moved to your arm. You stared at a point over his shell, where the wall met the ceiling, and held it.

“Ah, shit, princess. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” That big hand again, cupping your cheek, and without thinking you curled your face away, heartbeat painful, imagining the strain to squeeze the life out of a man with one grip.

His hand hung in the air, suspended, then dropped, and you tracked it all in slow motion.

Donnie interrupted, “I’m gonna look at your ribs now, kay?”

You nodded woodenly, sucked in a breath at how cold his hands felt against broken skin.

“You’re gonna feel a little out of sorts for a bit,” he continued, and blessedly Raph moved away. For a heart stopping moment you thought he was leaving, but he only leaned back against the closed door. You tracked over him, then around the room, realized he had gone to the wall furthest from Leo.

Donnie pulled your attention again, “you’re likely already experiencing some shock symptoms-”

Donnie was almost always right, you realized, because at that moment you blurted out: “Thank you, for- coming to-” The words stuck, and the tears wouldn’t stop, and you could still see Raph’s hand hanging in the space next to you. Your arm burned, your ribs ached, but you needed to say it, needed them to know that-

“Hey, babycakes, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Mikey was on the bed behind you, legs sliding on either side of yours, holding you steady with a warm hand on your good hip, and you breathed in sharp, your shiver turning into full body quakes.

Donnie kept a hold of your bad arm, held it out, kept it steady as he continued to work on it, probing the break carefully.

Leo moved, silent, in between a long blink, grip on your calves soft as he dropped to his knees, caged you in between Mikey’s thighs and his plastron.

Raph sighed from where he stood, and you heard more than saw him push off the door, steps loud as he moved to your free side and once again raised his hands.

They curled along your jaw, too big, too strong. Grip careful as he wiped away the tears, cradled your head to keep your chattering teeth still.

An echo of the earlier violence, but at this point you didn’t care.

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

Text

Battle Scars

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Fluffy

Requested: literally, anything hurt/comfort or angst with a happy ending preferably Jack or newt but love your dnd au too Thank you love your writing ❤ Hello, could I request a Jack Dawkins x reader where maybe the reader gets in a fight or something over Jack and after he patches her up afterwards he is at first angry but after she tells him why she got into the fight he hold her close and it's fluffy and cute!

I stood, as usual, doing my work at the cat and bagpipes, men in the pub going about their business drinking, gambling, fighting and doing other such... manly things. Many of the girls I worked with were busy as they often were on Friday nights but I wasn't on that shift tonight, Instead, I was just serving and carting drinks around for My boss Rotty. I hurried about in my dress dropping things here and there as I went I noticed an empty tankard and the man to whom it belonged.

"Another Doctor Dawkins?" I asked as I collected some from the table beside his own,

"Uhhhhh no it's alright, Y/n." He said his face a little grim and tried as he pushed the tankard to the end of the table for me to collect it easily, I knew he wanted more but given his low pay or well lack of it he didn't exactly have a lot of cash to throw around on a Friday night, He would often come on a Friday night play some cards to get enough for a drink that he'd nurse a good while and then head home, he never saw the girls as he couldn't afford to even if I had offered him a discount more then once but he was such a gentleman and always politely declined.

"You sure? you sure nursed it,"

"It's been a long week,"

"Aww, one more? on me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah sure, got to keep the doctor happy," I smiled as I took the tankard to refill it for him and I gave his cheek a pinch as I left which forced him to smile, I returned the empties and paid for Jack's drink out of my my tips from the evening,

"I don't know why you bother with him, he's not got any money you don't have to be nice to him." Mags said as she leant on the bar with her fan in hand,

"Magnolia," I glared as I loaded my tray, "Off it," I told her, as I took my tray and dropped off the drinks dropping Jack's off last,

"Thanks y/n." He smiled,

"You're welcome Jack," I cooed patting his blonde head as I tried to continue but he took my hand tugging me gently back to him and giving my hand a soft gentle kiss, "Awww that's my tip?"

"yeah, sorry..."

"I am more than happy to take my tips as such, just from you," I winked kissing his head before I got on with my work,

The night went off as usual dropping drinking where needed, seeing the regulars and the new guys in from a ship in port today, checking in on the card games and breaking up a few fights, I didn't mind actually I kinda prefer when I'm on this shift as you see people and have a much better evening with more going on, rather then on the other shift were you come out into the bar for five-ten minutes longer if someone wants you sat on their lap for a while the rest of the night your just laid on your back. And I just wasn't feeling it today which is fine Rotty didn't mind I think she knows I'm more a bar girl than a bed girl nowadays. I often passed Jack and gave him a smile which he often gave back, the girls didn't much bother with him as they all had a joke that Jack was 'Y/n's regular' even if we had never actually done anything it was just what they often referred to him as, none of them ever bothered because they knew he didn't have money so never much bothered to give him more then a smile unless of course he had been at the card tables winning as he often did, Then the girls would check up on him.

I returned to the bar cleaning some tankards when Jack approached, "Here," he smiled handing over his empty tankard,

"Aww thank you, you're the only one who doesn't just leave them," I laughed taking it back, "Another?"

"No, it's okay I need to get back."

"Course, have a nice night Doctor Dawkins,"

"You too y/n" He smiled kissing my hand before he headed out and off back to the hospital,

"he is cute," Mags smiled as she leant on the bar,

"Maybe," I shrug, trying to hide my blush at such a thought,

"Shame he's stoney broke."

"Mags," I warn,

"Ohh come on you can admit it he's a little lowlife"

"Mags." I warn louder,

"I mean everyone knows he's only a doctor because of the Navy, he's not smart enough to have gone to college like the other doctors."

"Magnolia," I warn,

"such a tiny little thing too, I bet we took his shirt off we could play a tune on his ribs."

"Magnolia, off it," I warn,

"at least as a doctor, he's got skilled quick fingers, 'cause he ain't doing much else with anything else."

"Magnolia enough."

"Really? Just cause you like him doesn't mean you have to lie, He's an uneducated scrawny little beggared"

"Mags!" I yelled setting my stuff down, "Enough."

"Fine," she smiled slowly moving away, "makes sense why he likes you so much, you're the only girl around here he can hope to afford." she smirked, "Or do you let him get off for free like his drinks?"

Okay, that's it! "Mag's Enough! you're a fucking whore you don't have cause to call anyone a lowlife!"

"I make more than he does!"

"Yeah lying on your back and letting men frost your stomach!" I yelled, "He saves people's lives, delivers babies, you know something actually worth doing!"

"Ohh come on you're only defending him because you like him!" she yelled back, "You ddin't have a crush on him we'd have kicked him out like we do every boy who hasn't the money to be worth anything! If you wanna go be some penniless doctor's housewife fine but don't waste a table on him that I- We could be making money on!"

"That's all you care about money!"

"Yes! So keep your poorper doctor boy in the gutter where he belongs!"

"Ughhh!" I yelled and pulled her hair, she screamed and shoved me into the bar.

Immediately it became an all-out fight and we weren't doing like a cute girl fight or even a cat fight this was a full-on bar brawl with chairs, tankards, punches, kicks, hair pulls, nails, slaps and at times biting, and when it was over we both needed a cart ride to the hospital for various injuries... and let's just say Rotty was not happy we were fighting, or breaking chairs, or tankards, and a window.

I was put in a room far away from Mags and I sat on the bed trying not to whine from pain,

"Y/n?" I heard making me look up to see Jack at the door he saw me and the state I was in for a second he looked heartbroken but then rage boiled behind his eyes,

"Hi, Jack,"

"What the bloody hell happened!"

"I can-"

"Who did this to you! what kind of sick twisted bastard did this to you!" He yelled,

"Jack please-"

"Who was it! I'll beat the living daylights out of them you just see if I won't" He yelled "Give me his name."

"Jack-"

"Give me his fucking name y/n!"

"Mags."

"M-Mag- Mags did this to you?" He asked softening for a moment, "Magnolia did this to you?"

"Yeah,"

"Why?"

"I uhhh... May have gotten in a fight with her."

"yeah, I could figure that out. why did she suddenly turn and fight you."

"I may have pulled her hair..."

"So you started it?"

"Yeah."

"Y/n! You can't start a fight with someone!" He scolds "Look at you! look at what's happened to you and you're lucky you got out with just this!"

"I know but-" I suddenly felt like a child being told off by their father,

"Why on earth would you start a fight with Mags she's twice your size and you know she can kick a horse down the street, are you stupid or something why would you start anything with her let alone let it go on to a full-on fight? I can't believe you!"

"I'm sorry Jack."

He sighed putting a hand through his hair, "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

"Yes..."

"she could have killed you!"

"I know..."

"At least you're alright," He sighed kissing my forehead, "But I'm still mad at you,"

"I know." I giggled,

"You know what no. I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed."

Immediately my heart sank, god damn why does that still work on me as an adult woman, "I'm sorry..."

"I know you are," He said, "Come on let's get your battle scars looked at," he said "But I am not kissing your bruises better." he joked

"Aww, why not?" I playfully whined

"No, no I'm not doing it I'm still angry at you. that's your punishment little lady I'm not kissing them better."

"But how will they get better without kisses?"

"well should have thought about that before you started a fight." He said slowly but surely he went over my body cleaning and wrapping my every cut, motioning every bruise, checking the extent of the damage done to me, "There, that's all of them, now look after yourself alright."

"I will I promise,"

"Good, I do not want you back in here for another fight." he warns, "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Else your next battle is gonna be with me." He warns tapping my nose, "Okay?"

"Okay." I nodded,

"Good, what did you and Mags get into a fight over."

"I- I can't"

"Tell me." He ordered, "Now. Before I really do get mad at you again."

"...You."

he froze up looking me over before finally meeting my eyes, "Me?"

"Yeah..."

"You got into a fight with mags, over me?"

"Yeah,"

"You... you... got into a fight over me? why?"

"I can't-"

"Y/n. why did you get into a fight with her,"

"she... she said some bad things about you,"

"What did she say?"

"she called you stoney broke, called you a little lowlife, called you not smart enough to have gone to college, a tiny little thing, she said at least as a doctor, you've got skilled quick fingers, 'cause he ain't doing much else with anything else, she called you an uneducated scrawny little beggared" I explained and every word looked as if it cut him open, "She said we should keep the poorper doctor boy in the gutter, where you belong,"

"she- she said all that?"

"she did." I nodded,

"and- and you defended me?"

"Of course I did."

"You defended me! You started a fight for me! You... you got all these battle scars... for me?"

"I did."

He cracked a smile and gave my lips a soft gentle kiss before he pulled me into his chest as close as possible stroking my hair, "Thank you y/n."

"It's okay,"

"No, really, thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

"You're welcome Jack," I smiled, "Happy to get a few battle scars for you."

"Well, not too many I hope. You didn't have to do that for me..."

"I know, but I did. You'd have done the same for me wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would, I'd get a thousand battle scars for you." he said kissing my head, "that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you." he chuckled,

"I know," I laughed, "I accept that you're mad at me, for being stupid and starting a fight."

"No more starting fights, or getting into fights, just no more fighting in general."

"I promise." I nodded,

"Good girl." he cooed kissing my forehead,

#tbs smut #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster #thomas sangster imagine #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkinsartfuldodger #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger

128 notes · View notes

doromoni · 8 months

Text

Hunting Affections

Charles Leclerc x photographer ! reader

Max Verstappen x photographer ! reader

Part 7.

fanfic + smau fic

y/n faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi

warnings : small amounts of possessiveness and angsts :>>

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

maxverstappen1 3 mins

viewed by y/n_stills. , oscarpiastri , olliebearman , arthur_leclerc and 2,839,624 others

reposted by arthur_leclerc , olliebearman, and oscarpiastri

arthur_leclerc 1 min

viewed by charles_leclerc , maxverstappen1, ferraridrivingacademy, and 1,626,716 others

story replies

charles_leclerc You’re with Verstappen?! Arthur, we’re brothers how can you do this?!! He is the person who stole y/n from me!! And why are you even at y/n’s house? Are still talking to her, when I specifically said don’t?!

arthur_leclerc I get to choose who I get to be friends with, Charles. I won’t let you dictate my relationship with y/n anymore, she is like family to me. I’m trying to fix our relationship… I could only say that you should do the same. I’ll talk to you in person if you want to say more.

y/n_stills.

liked by maxverstappen1 , oscarpiastri , olliebearman , arthur_leclerc and 1,378,417 others

tagged maxverstappen1 , oscarpiastri , olliebearman , and , arthur_leclerc

y/n_stills. what a weird family date. I came home with can I be your grid child applications. @maxvertappen1 can you handle 2 more?

I didn’t let them drink or over feed them. We followed the meal plan . There’s a responsible adult here (me) 😇

maxverstappen1 we barely have @oscarpiastri for a month, can I buy you a dog instead?

y/n_stills. aw, sorry @olliebearman and @arthurleclerc . Papa said no :((

oscarpiastri yeah nah, I’m good being an only child. Thanks.

olliebearman what? Nooooooo. what do I need to do to pass @maxvestappen1?

arthur_leclerc yup , same question 🙋‍♂️ was our fifa game not enough @maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri @olliebearman @arthur_leclerc you need to win the F2 championship, that’s all. 😁

y/n_stills. welp there you go! That’s the requirement, kids. Good luck 😊

maxverstappen1 they said it, not me 🤷‍♂️

ferraridriveracademy hear that boys? @olliebearman @arthur_leclerc win the championship 🫣

y/n_stills. @ferraridriveracademy … nope, shhh shhh none from you 😀 promise an f1 seat first then talk.

landonorris Max sent me a video of everyone eating McFlurries :)) great meal plan ! Count me in

y/n_stills. what McFlurry 😊 there was no ice cream involved . right @maxvestappen1

danielricciardo Max sent me the same vid. @y/n_stills. What’s up with you and McFlurries?

y/n_stills. MAX!! i told you not to tattle >:(( and fyi danny ricccccc McFlurries are the best, that’s why.

maxverstappen1 sorry, dear 😅

oscarpiastri not gonna lie it was good.

landonorris you like anything sweet 🙄

arthur_leclerc McFlurries are good. I liked it. Period

olliebearman well it is worth the calories

y/n_stills. more than gelato? @olliebearman @arthur_leclerc🧐

arthur_leclerc 😐😐😐

olliebearman uhhhhh

Bffusername are these my nephews?

y/n_stills. you’ll finally meet everyone tomorrow!!

lewishamilton You went to the restaurant!

y/n_stills. We did! Thanks for the recommendation, Lew!

user1 why are they fighting about McFlurries? Did I miss a chapter?

user2 at this point I just sit back and watch the chaos.

user3 I know right? The grid interaction this season is extra silly.

user4 not y/n feeding the grid kids sweets 🥺, why is that endearing. Imagine max driving through a McDonald’s drive through with the kids at the back seat . Oh no I’m soft

user5 @user4 let’s be delulu together! That’s so domesticated, I cant handle it.

y/n_stills. @user4 what if I said, that actually happened 🫣

user4 OH MY!! Y/N !! Nooooo you did not 😭😭.

user6 we’re do I subscribe for keeping up with the Verstappens?

y/n_stills. No stop, this sound so fun! Someone write that down!

user6 you heard y/n! Produce it now!

user7 Max being a grid dad was not on my 2023 bingo card

user8 but we are not complaining, @y/n_stills. pls give us more family content

Bffusername 1h

viewed by y/n_stills. , landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 626,717 others

story replies

y/n_stills. I got you boo 😘

bffusername I also want the pin thingy you have >:(( how do I get that?

y/n_stills. you mean the team access badge? HAHAHAH either work for a team or date a driver 🤷‍♂️

Bffusername oh… HAHAHAHAHAHHA

y/n_stills. COME ON BE A WAG , choose someone single from the grid!!

Bffusername df y/n? The only people I know here are you and Max. Oh and that guy I bumped into before going to the garage. I think he followed me just now?

y/n_stills. b/f/n?!! WHAT?!! Spill!! I leave you for 1 minute for work and you already found someone.

Bffusername Dude chill! I’m a singer, he probably followed me because of that, though it was my private account… maybe he made a mistake. I think you know him quite well actually! He said his name was Nando Lorris?

y/n_stills. NO. Shut up. b/f/n….do you mean Lando Norris? Was his hair brown and messy , green eyes and was he wearing orange?

Bffusername YES! THATS HIM! yeah I bumped into him outside the McLaren(?) garage. The one beside the Ferrari one.

y/n_stills. And He followed you on instagram? your private one? I can’t wait to rub this in his face!! HAHAHAHAHAHA this is GOLD.

Bffusername what do you mean?

y/n_stills. Oh nothing my gorgeous best friend ~ hang on tight for a few more minutes, I’m almost done with work

Bffusername No worries , babe! It’s urgent and I’m a big girl and I can handle myself 😘.

I quickly pulled out my messages and started text bombing Lando.

————-F1 Breaking-————

FIA denies Ferrari’s appeal towards claims of impeding towards Leclerc by Red bull's Verstappen , Perez and McLaren's Norris, Piastri. Both teams will not face any penalties and will continue the race with a warning.

————————————

b/f/n and I strolled through the circuit, trying to find our way towards the red bull car of max in the front of the grid. Finding the act to be a difficulty as the grid became packed with people trying to have a look at the cars and some looking for a chance to talk to the drivers.

Holding onto b/f/n’s hand , I tried to lead us towards the front — when a mic suddenly appeared and the all too familiar friendly voice of David Croft boomed, and the camera focused on us.

“Y/N! It’s Lovely to see down here again! We have been missing your presence at Sky. So how have you been? “ A feeling of fondness blossomed in my heart at the sight of an old colleague and friend.

With a smile . I answered the jolly commentator

“Crofty! It’s lovely to see you too! Well, i’ll admit it’s quite weird to be at the receiving end of the microphone. I’ve been great, thank you for asking! “ Crofty’s eyes fell towards my best friend , who interestingly was a very popular singer.

A chuckle fell from my mouth as Crofty started to fire questions towards the clueless b/f/n — who did not realise that the person she was talking to was the colleague that i’ve told her stories about on so many occasions.

“Ms. b/f/n, What a surprise to see you here, a pleasant surprise of course! I didn’t know that you were a fan of the sport! Are you having fun so far?”

“Oh, well I don’t really know much about F1 to be considered a fan. Y/n , here begged me to finally meet her friends and to see what all the fuss was about. Well, I’ll admit, everything has been exhilarating so far! The energy here is amazing. “

“Well thank you so much for talking to us , Ms. b/f/n! And y/n we really do need to catch up more often~ bye ladies!” Clutching b/f/n’s hand a little tighter as people kept pushing through.

I continued to venture towards Red Bull. Then a flash of orange lingering towards my right and a thought came to mind. With a smirk playing on my lips, I pulled b/f/n towards the car of the one and only Nando Lorris

“Y/n, where are you taking me? The red bull cars are that way” b/f/n said as she pointed towards the front of the grid. Pasting my most innocent smile on, I only looked at her and continued to pull.

“Oh Landoooo~” I chimed as soon as we were close enough for the British driver to hear. At the sound of my voice , he turned around — his green eyes slowly growing bigger at the sight of my companion. A sly grin formed on my lips.

“b/f/n this is Lando , Lando this is b/f/n. Isn’t it nice that my best friends are finally meeting each other? You two get to know each other , I’ll go find Max. Ok? Bye! I’ll find you before the anthem starts! Lando will explain ~ “ I dashed away as soon as I said bye, not leaving enough time for any of them to interrupt. Better make great use of the opportunity, Lando.

Skipping through the crowd, as the Red and Blue car of my boyfriend grew nearer. And there stood Max, in all his glory; clothed in his fireproofs with his race suit only zipped halfway. A faux red bull can in his hand , teeth gently biting the straw as he spoke to his race engineer. Dark blonde hair deliciously tousled from his balaclava. Skin flushed red from the heat of the engine

Appreciating my boyfriend, my eyes travelling all over his physique. Max was made for racing, he was so in tune with the environment, the car, the people… everything — it was electrifying to witness. Oh how did I not see him sooner.

Feeling my gaze on him, Max’s eyes found mine. A charming smile overtook his features, as he beckoned me towards him. As I came near enough, Max had pulled me into his arms and placed a kiss on my lips, a hand cupping my jaw.

The mix of the sudden public display of affection and my already heated thoughts made blood rush to my cheeks. Embarrassed , as I hid my face in his embrace and mumbled.

“Max, people are watching”

“Let them watch, I don’t care,” Max said as he placed another peck on my forehead. I lifted my head to look into his eyes, my chin resting on his hardened chest. A look of fondness flashed through his features as he quickly planted another kiss on my lips making me melt into his embrace even further.

“Max , when I said people watching, I meant our boss is watching” I said chuckling softly as I looked towards the direction of Christian Horner, who was now faking a cough along with Max’s other engineers.

“Alright! I’m sorry! “ Max said jokingly , as he let me out of his embrace— only to catch my hand in his and intertwine our fingers in the process.

“How was your day , Liebling? Oh , where is b/f/n? “ Max said as he pulled us to a quieter part of the track. At the mention of b/f/n’s name , the sly grin once again graced my face.

“Everything was alright, love~ and b/f/n is with McLaren” A look of confusion was present in the Dutchman’s face.

“She knows someone from McLaren? I thought you and I were the only people she knew here”

“ Well apparently, my dearest Emilian , a certain McLaren driver “bumped” into b/f/n and “accidentally” followed her private instagram account” I spilled with a cheeky-est smile I could muster.

Then suddenly a look of understanding passed through Max

“NOOOO LANDO?!! how didn’t I see this? He follows all her public accounts and he’s always listening to her music “ Max eyes were shot wide , I giggled as I nodded to him

“That’s what I said!! Lando better not screw this up” I stated elated that Max was in the same wavelength. Suddenly the alarm that the nation’s anthem would be starting soon rang, catching both Max's and I's attention.

“My Love, I need to fetch b/f/n. I’ll see you again in the garage, okay?” I detached my hand from his , only to find its way to his structured jaw

“Good luck and please be safe. Win or lose, you will always be my champion” Max leaned his forehead to mine, a habit the he grew to do everytime that he was overwhelmed with emotion.

“I love you, Liebling”

“And I love you , Max”

Gazing into his eyes, then placing my lips to his once more . Not noticing the splash of red passing behind us.

—————-

“And it’s lights out, and away we go!” And With Crofty’s signature phrase, the racr had officially begun.

The first few laps had been successful for all teams, having no collisions or machinery errors this far into the race.

Time passed as quickly as the cars had. The laps had been halved, with teams gaining positions while others have lost positions; and Ferrari belonged to the latter.

The race was going as usual, with Max leading grid. Until a weird radio call from Checo’s car was broadcasted.

*radio beep*

* WHAT IS LECLERC DOING?? He didn’t leave enough space! We almost collided again, that’s twice!! Is the FIA investigating?*

* Copy , Checo. We will talk to the stewards again. *

* What position am I in now?*

* That’s P4, P4*

*radio end*

Then another radio call was heard, this time it was from Hamilton in the Mercedes car.

*radio beep*

* I see , a Ferrari behind . Will they be attacking? *

* that is Leclerc and Ferrari will not attack and they will conserve the tires*

* Cop- WHAT THE ****! Leclerc suddenly attacked! He’s infront but his tires are not good*

*radio end*

Confusion filled all the team garages, including the Italian team in red . As another radio call was broadcasted, this time it was from Ferrari themselves

*radio beep*

*Charles do not push! Tires are degraded!*

* Charles, do you copy?*

* LECLERC BOX BOX! TIRES ARE DEGRADING FAST, YOU’LL BLOW A TIRE*

*radio ends*

A sudden silence filled the air as people tried to understand the situation. As engineers busied themselves with data and informing drivers of the situation. Anxiety filled me as Charles slowly closed the gap between his Ferrari and Max’s Red bull. The sudden departure of b/f/n didn’t help either , as she had an urgent family matter to handle.

Everyone was holding their breaths as the last lap of the race approached. I focused my eyes on the screen and listened closely to the commentator.

“It's the final lap and It's a neck on neck for Verstappen and Leclerc! It's Verstappen! No! It's Leclerc! It's the final turn before the chequered flag. Leclerc is gaining on Verstappen, here comes the final turn. Verstappen breaks last! But Leclerc is not far behind. “

“AND THE FERRARI AND REDBULL TOUCH! WHEELS HAVE MADE CONTACT. BOTH CARS ARE LOSING CONTROL! AND LECLERC AND VERSTAPPEN GO OUT SPINNING.”

Crashes and collisions are not unusual to the high speed sport of Formula 1, yet it does not diminish the depravity of it all . I couldn't shake the worry and dread that swallowed my every emotion. Nerves spiking as my leg bounces uncontrollably at the sight of the cars colliding and spinning off track. Panic increasingly grew as the garage turned to radio silent…

“AND LECLERC GOES INTO THE BARRIER BUT VERSTAPPEN HAS FOUND TRACTION! AND MAX VERSTAPPEN CROSSES THE CHEQUERED FLAG! HE HAS WON! THAT'S ANOTHER WIN FOR MAX AND REDBULL.”

As the crowd cheered, the garage of red and blue was filled with ecstatic mechanics patting each other on the back and engineers chattering over each other as they celebrated another race win.

Even as the air filled with cheers and excitement, I could only think about the wellbeing of Max. Was he alright , Is he hurt? Only these thoughts filled my mind. I silently chewed on my lip as my leg continued to bounce and my fingers tapped on my other knee – with my head down and eyes shut close, as I tried to assure myself that Max was not going anywhere.

Startled, at someone’s hand on my shoulder – I opened my eyes. A piece of metal equipment, painted a deep blue color was in my line of sight, a headset. Abruptly lifting my head, I was faced with one of Max’s race engineers . He supported a comforting smile as he placed the headset into my hands.

“Christian said you could talk to him, you tell him he won, yeah?”

Quickly understanding the situation, I was on my feet. With a quick smile and thank you, I placed the headset on – it was slightly heavy and a shiver ran up my spine as I felt its shocking coldness on my face. Not wasting any more time, I pressed the radio button that allowed me to communicate with Max.

*radio beep*

*MAX! Are you alright!? Are you hurt in any way?*

*Y/N? Wha-?*

*It's me. Love, are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay*

A bit confused, yet more so delighted to talk to his partner on his car radio , Max replied – without a worry that everyone tuned in all over the globe would be able to hear. Because, He was proud to call y/n, his and If he were to choose, he will always have his Liebling’ voice to listen to in every race in his entire life.

*I'm alright. Liebling. I’m not hurt, just a bit dizzy. And no, I do not need medical attention. Thank you for worrying though. *

A smile can be heard through the driver’s radio as he talked. Shocking fans and presenters from the softness and warmth of the Dutch Drivers voice as he spoke to his girlfriend.

* That was quite a spin Max, you scared me! you almost crashed into the wall! You idiot … but congratulations that’s P1! P1! You won! Love, that's another podium!*

* Nice, Nice! Simply lovely! And I simply love you my Schatz!!*

*That’s so going on live tv …You’re so lame! I love you too, see you on the podium! Your engineer needs the headset back, ciao dear.*

*Your love hurts, dear HAHAHA. Yeah, let me talk to GP. *

*radio end*

The feeling of worry and dread leaving my system at Max’s assurance. I thanked the engineer again and I returned the headset back , with a grin on my face – now giddy for Max and the team’s success. Skipping out of the Red Bull garage making way to congratulate Max at the barricade with the rest of the crew.

When suddenly a red gloved hand held my arm – stopping me in my tracks.

It’s Carlos! I smiled as I greeted him.

“Hey Chili! Congrats on the race~ what’s up?”

“Hola, Nina , thank you… ” the smile on my face slowly dimmed and replaced concern . Carlos was not looking at me straight, his demeanour was not at all normal – he was fidgety and restless.

“Carlos? Is everything alright? You could tell me” I asked, trying to catch his line of sight.

“I, uh… Y/n its about Charles ..he’s has gone mad” my concern suddenly morphed into confusion.

“What do you mean by that C?” I tried probing. His eyes darted left and right , surveying for any filming cameras.

“When the FIA differed Ferrari’s appeal towards Red bull and McLaren , Charles lost it and started trashing the motorhome. And during the race , he ignored all team orders… especially during the last lap. He was told not to push and attack Max. ”

I was suddenly speechless. All the color on my face drained and my palms started to clam up. Brows furrowing as I stared at Carlos , nothing coming out my mouth.

“Pierre and I are planning an intervention before this goes way out of hand and before people get killed on that track. I know that we are asking so much , but we need you with us Y/N” My eyes shot wide as his request registered to me. My throat is growing dryer by the second.

“Carlos , I don’t kno– I’m not su-. I'm sorry, I can't give an answer now. Please let me think about it, ” I pleaded.

“Yes! Y/n ,of course. Just think about it . ” Carlos quickly replied.

“Thank you , C” I smiled as quickly side hugged him and scurried away , desperately trying to find Max or any familiar face from Red Bull.

As I neared the barracks, I schooled my expression — trying to forget what I just heard from the Spanish driver. This was not the time to make things about myself, it was time to celebrate the success of Max and the team.

y/n_stills.

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tagged maxverstappen1

y/n_stills. Another P1! A monster on the streets and the sheets

maxverstappen1 what can I say 🤷‍♂️and thank you , Liebling.

y/n_stills. 🤭🤭🤭

landonorris what is this caption y/n ?????

y/n_stills. what it’s true 😇

landonorris you two are disgusting

y/n_stills. I wouldn't be too quick to say that Norris , I have dirt on you hehehehe

oscarpiastri Whoa keep it pg , mom. There are kids here!

y/n_stills. close your eyes , Osc!🫣

redbullracing hmmm…

y/n_stills. Oh hi there , employers! Lovely seeing you here 😀

redbullracing we saw nothing…

170 notes · View notes

tmntxthings · 9 months

Text

∑一 Loser ・゜・。

author’s note: again, this song just kinda sounded like Leo, nonchalant-yet-cares-way-too-much-than-you-actually-think, p.s. i totally wrote this without rereading some major mistakes are in there I’m sure… but we post anyways 😌 I’ll come back and fix things later

warnings: unedited, maybe one curse word, playboy!leo, aged-up, angst

word association: losing, failure, doubt, fake confidence, drunken day-dreams, falling, pining, realization, indifference, ignorance, obsession

song inspired: “ Roommates by Malcolm Todd ”

—————————————————————————

Leonardo was never really one to worry. As a ninja master he was confident in his skills, even more so than when he was a teenager if that was even fathomable. He had wit, he could think quickly on his feet, plans could be formed at a whim. So worry? Maybe if the Kraang decided to show their bubblegum pink faces again! But even then he was sure he could beat them, ya know since he has already done it before!

He was self assured and cocky. Ever since that one slip up he made sure he never had another reason to worry. He didn’t mess around when it came to missions. So afterwards when it was a success he could gloat and showboat all he pleased much to his brother’s aggravation. He never had to worry about admirers either. They were a sure thing. What can he say? All it takes is a little charisma and devilishly handsome looks! Plus he was hilarious and confident so winning anyone over with a sly wink and charming smile was easyyy. You had been too easy!

He ate it up. All the compliments and obvious blushes to his smooth flirting. It all just stroked that big ego of his. You hadn’t strayed either, all it took was a phone call and a portal over and you were putty in his hands. So maybe Leo had gotten a little careless, thinking you would always be there. To always be chasing after him. And if you wavered under the long absences and ignored messages it could be quickly resolved with a few placating “sorry’s” and distracting kisses.

But this time, it seemed you weren’t answering. It had been about three days now. One call from him each day. Usually he was met with enthusiasm and swoons when he called. You lapped up any attention he threw at you like his own little puppy. So after he listened to your voicemail for the third time he decided a little check-in was in order. He may have been worried about your safety. Maybe. But most likely Leo wondered if his little puppy was pouting again. Surely you couldn’t hold out if he saw you face to face. Leo smirked at the prospect of you playing hard to get only to crumble once he got your chin between his fingers, tilting that pretty face up to meet his own filled with smug finesse.

So when he portal-ed over to your place he was more than surprised to knock on the door and find someone else answer. “Uh, who’re you?” Leo said with an obvious disdainful one-over, raised brow bones and all. You never had people over. And if you did it was family or all the close friends he knew of. Never someone half decent to look at… not to say that this guy was even on the same level as Leo’s visuals. Definitely not.

He was met with a silent and confused stare. “Uhhhhh” taking in Leo’s mutant turtleness, like mutants hadn’t been out and about for years since the Kraang invasion. “Great question actually, who’re you???” The human stammered when he finally found his words. Leo was quickly losing interest here so he pushed past the human easily enough, and talked over his startled complaints, “Hey you can’t just—“

“Y/n? Where ya at princess?? Hiding from me?” He called out through the apartment. Surely this was a set up he thought as he walked to the kitchen and then to the hallway that led to your bedroom. Finding everything looking very very different. It had him slowing and taking in his surroundings more carefully. Where was your furniture?? Had you gotten a better job? All this stuff looked so new! “HEY!” The earlier human yelled, getting back in front of Leo and cutting him off to your room. “Listen buddy I think you’ve got the wrong house!” He said in warning. Leo couldn’t stop from snorting, this guy was even puffing up his chest! Did he really think he could take Leo on? Or were the twin odachis behind his shell not intimidating enough? “Look ‘buddy’” Leo air-quoted sarcastically, “I don’t know if you know this but me and Y/n are veryyy close. I’ve got the right place.”

“Y/n does not live here bro.”

“Oh now we’re resorting to lying?” Leo laughed out loud as his arms moved faster than this loser could blink. Quickly creating a portal behind his shell and stepping back into it, only to now be in…

Not Y/n’s room.

The pictures were gone. It wasn’t as cutesy anymore. No traces of his things. No traces of you either! Leo’s nostrils flared as that sinking feeling of worry settled firmly in his chest. What the fuck was going on? Your smell. It was no longer here. Why had that taken him so long to realize?? He turned and opened the door, finding the boring human looking wildly around the hallway at his disappearance. “Where’re they?” His tone was more serious now.

It seemed the stranger hadn’t heard the door open because he leaped up in fright. “Jesus fucking chr—“

Leo’s head ticked to the side and brought out a sword once more. His patience wearing thin as well as his worry. It was a suffocating feeling that only reminded himself of ‘the mistake’ all those years ago. With the silence hanging over them now that one sword was out to play, Leo said, “Answer, the fucking question.” Quite plainly. The stranger’s eyes had turned wide and fearful, frozen in place and only started stammering when Leo’s blade neared closer.

“I don’t even know a Y/n man!!” The guy was shaking but that wasn’t really the answer Leo was looking for. In fact that gave him nothing but more questions. “They lived here. In this apartment. It’s only been…”

Leo thought back to the last time he was over… it couldn’t have been more than a month..or two… Irritation rising, Leo admitted, “like a month or so!” That was all it took for the shaking to stop. In fact the dude even had the audacity to laugh. “Close huh? Well I moved in here around two and a half months ago. Guess they didn’t tell you about that!”

Surely you wouldn’t… why would you not have told him something like that!? This guy was lying. But what had you last said to him??? Was it something important? Something like this?? He had to wine and dine you then, had you been really angry? He vaguely remembered the whole meeting being a fight in the beginning. But as always he had softened you up. “Maybe they’re more upset than I thought..” Leo murmured more to himself than the block of a person in front of him. But it spoke up anyway, “Can you get out of my house now??”

“Where’d they go?” Leo’s eyes narrowed in question not moving an inch. “Man I don’t know! I’m just renting this place” He shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Right, thanks for the help.” Leo grumped and then had a sudden thought. His eyes gleaming wickedly as he brought out both swords menacingly. “Uh wait, I’m serious I don’t know anything dude! Please!” He spoke faster and faster backing up as Leo approached and then lunged forward.

He flinched, closing his eyes and missing Leo portal out of there. Standing with bated breath only to slowly open his eyes and see no one in his apartment now. He went to sleep with one eye open that night.

Leo on the other hand was now on the roof, phone in hand as he scoured social medias for any clue of your whereabouts. Sure enough, you had pictures of moving out. Big smiles and sweaty foreheads from you and your friends in silly pictures with your couch moved down all those flights of stairs. Absentmindedly he wondered why you hadn’t asked for his help, one portal would’ve been simple enough. Hmph. Something was up!

He couldn’t figure out where your new place was now just from random photos posted online. But your location was still turned on in a certain app. The movie theater with a couple of your friends! Looks like he’d be crashing in, but surely heroes didn’t need to pay to get in right?

After portal-ing into seven other dark rooms. Searching the crowd from the back, row for row. It took him a few more tries until he finally portal-ed into the right theater room. He had spotted your friends first. One was always dying their hair crazy colors and from the pictures online the latest was neon purple. It reminded him of a bitch named Kendra so Leo held distaste for the color. You weren’t exactly sitting side by side with your friends, but a row below with one person beside you. Making the seat on the other side of you open. Almost like it was fate for him to sit next to you. The movie has everyone’s attention snagged so he mozied his way down the stairs on foot. Having portal-ed at the top of the rows and slid into the seat next to you as the movie hit a dark scene.

Leo paid attention to the movie. Horror. Which was surprising because you hated that genre. Or at least he thought you did. After a couple of minutes he finally glanced over, his gaze starting at your legs which were squeezing together in your seat. You looked tense, he wondered if that was because of him or the movie. When his eyes finally reached your face and then your own, he was met with a hard solemn look. It had him blinking in surprise. So that answered his question. Definitely because of him. The look threw him off for sure but seconds later an easy-going smile found his features as he translated a carefree sorry slash greeting.

Your lips scowled, though the sound was lost underneath the blaring all-around speakers currently screaming due to a jump scare on the characters. Then as if that wasn’t enough, your whole body shifted away from his, away from his seat, to the person next to you as your eyes went back to the screen. Leo huffed, this wouldn’t be a simple smile and swoon then! The blue turtle leaned heavily across the armrest, taking up as much space as possible. His eyes went back to the screen too seeing how long it would take you to stop ignoring him. He felt metaphorically daggers being thrown his way, from above where your friends sat and you too when you tried to sneak in glances his way. It wasn’t as often as he would’ve liked. It seemed your attention was also occupied with the movie and then person on your other side, someone Leo didn’t recognize.

It was a day full of things like that for Leo and it annoyed him. This whole situation did. He wanted to talk to you. To find out what was going on and why you weren’t calling or messaging him! Or even just answering his calls! But no he had to portal in almost every theater room to finally find you and then wait even longer to get some answers. It was eating away at the crumbs of his leftover patience. So when the credits finally started rolling Leo spoke up so those nearby could hear, “We’ll be right back~!” And no later had he grabbed your hand and pulled you into the portal, following after him.

Boy were you angry! Didn’t matter that he had brought you up to Empire State Building. “Take me back Leo!” It was all you kept saying. Even when he asked you what was going on! He asked why you hadn’t answered his calls or told him about you moving. You ignored everything he said. “Princess please, I’m confused over here!” He pleaded and you hissed at the nickname. “Just stop. Take me back. You don’t deserve to know anything about me!”

That had given him a little more insight. “Okay okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry okay?” You shook. Physically shook with anger and that sinking feeling returned. “You don’t even know why you’re apologizing.” You spat. And he moved into your space. If words weren’t going to work he’d try a another approach. One that worked just as well if not better. “But I’m doing it anyway, cause that’s just how sorry I am babe!” His hands finding yours. “No!”

You ripped your hands away from his touch. You didn’t sink into his touch, calm under his fingertips. It was like a slap to the face. “You don’t just get to say pretty words anymore Leo. You don’t get to just caress all my feelings away! You don’t get to just march into my life when you want! You don’t get to act like you care about me!!”

Was that what he was doing? The worry turned to guilt. Though you weren’t sad, you were just angry. Angry that he had randomly popped up again at his own whims to fulfill his own needs. “That’s fair… so tired of our little game then?” Leo smiled. He smiled through a dull sort of pain, a fake one that he had mastered a while ago. You sighed, shaking your head at him. “It might’ve been a game to you, but my feelings were real. I was never playing Leo.”

Silence hung over the two of you as the wind picked up from the height of such a mighty building. “Right then.” Leo murmured. Staring off into the night, the twinkling lights from the building below turning into hazy far-away circles. “Portal me back.” You repeated. “Of course Princess” You cringed at the use of the nickname once more. He swiped open a portal and gestured for you to go first, his hand finding your back as it closed. He hardly had felt you before the feeling was gone completely. You were gone, back where you wanted to be. And he was left, confused.

How long had you been with him. Admiring, pining, flirting..? How long had he been stringing you along? He couldn’t seem to remember. So he stayed on there on top of the tallest building. Sighing deeply before shrugging it all off and deciding a new batch of admirers was just what he needed! A distraction from losing you. It wasn’t every day someone was crossed off his list! But it seemed you were done with him completely and he wasn’t in the habit of forcing anyone to have a fun time.

But as he went to his regular bars, clubs, restaurants he didn’t feel smug as he turned heads. He didn’t feel happy as he was approached and flirted with. No matter how many times he went out, danced, or drank til he couldn’t think straight. He even tried finding someone like you. Someone similar! Someone who had your personality. Someone who looked close to you. But they weren’t you. It was getting desperate and weird at this point. Even drunk he wasn’t happy. Which led to the drunken thoughts of you as he realized he missed you.

Had started missing you ever since he realized your attention was no longer on him. He blamed it on the alcohol as he pictured your apartment. Not filled with some stranger. But of you and him. A shared apartment with Leo. It was a shared room instead of just yours. It was his bed too. Surely it was drunken thoughts to want to commit like that. He’d never done such a thing before. But with you… at least Drunk Leo wanted an apartment, a room, and a bed with you. His mask scrunched up around his brows thinking about how he had lost you.

He hated losing people. He wasn’t a loser. But how was he to convince you now that he had exhausted all possibilities. Was he a changed turtle? Did he really want to settle down? Or was this just because he had lost a favorite toy… a favorite person? Or was his type the ones playing hard to get?

Guess he’d have to find out. So after weeks of playing around and trying to fill a hole that only had gotten bigger with time Leo decided it was time to really try.

So he portal-ed again off to apologize genuinely this time. And beg on his knees if he had to with arms full of thoughtful gifts if it would give him a second chance. And if that still wasn’t good enough he was going to stick around for quite some time because he had a pretty thick skull. You’d have to reject him plenty so it would get through his head! Because it seemed even someone like you wouldn’t do. It had to be you, so he was going to win you back one way or another.

Because if Leo was one thing, he was definitely not a loser.

—————————————————————————

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cultofdixon · 9 months

Text

Good Ol’ Dixon Advice

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] | Carl Grimes [ROMANTIC] • He/Him Pronouns • Crushes are weird and Daryl may not have the golden standard advice. But he’ll do his best • ANGST/SFW • TW: PTSD / Nightmares / Scars / Messy Confessions / Self Harm Mentioned

Requested by: Anon

“Hey uh…dad? You’ve got a minute?”

Daryl looked up from the bike frame noticing his son standing at the garage door extremely anxious. He stopped what he was doing to give Y/N his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Or I don’t know. I just. Uh….” Y/N tried his best to be blunt about it, but he doesn’t know how Daryl would react to such. So might as well just… “I’m gay”

The archer blankly stared at his kid watching his tense shoulders relax when he shrugged before turning back to the bike frame.

“So? Love who yea want”

“Oh. Okay cool, so how do I do it”

“Huh?” His full attention returned in a split second as Y/N brought himself more into the garage to avoid anyone listening in. Both being paranoid individuals about eavesdroppers even if most aren’t around. “What do you mean ‘how do I do it?’ There’s no handbook to being gay”

“No! I know…like that much. I’m talking—-talking to your crush. Shit like that”

“Language, bud” Daryl scowled, asking for a certain tool for Y/N to grab as he did. If he’s going to be there, he’s going to learn and help with building the bike. “I don’t know how to deal with that that well”

“Seriously? You and Carol aren’t something alre—-“

“Y/N!”

“What! She’s not here! Aaron and Eric aren’t here! NO ONES LISTENING”

“WHOLE TOWN MIGHT AS WELL IF YEA YELLING” Daryl snaps, ultimately regretting it when Y/N retracted as he takes a deep breath. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have yelled. But again, I ain’t the best with crushes either. Hell, I only talk to yea most”

“Clearly. But you do grunt for every other sentence” Y/N states listening to him grunt in response, only proving his point.

Daryl handed off the tool for Y/N to put back as it dawned on him. “Who do yea like?”

“Uhhhhh. Not important”

“Y/N, bud…if yea want advice. I might wanna know”

“Or you don’t gotta and still give me advice that you won’t take for yourself and your own crushes”

This kid’s obvious statements is gonna piss Daryl off soon.

“Imma start guessin’ if yea—-“

“Carl!” He snaps hoping to then drop it as he was starting to stress himself out thinking about it. “But it’s like…fuck I don’t know” he got up about to leave the garage but stopped at the exit/entrance.

“Seriously I may cuss a lot. Don’t mean you gotta” Daryl gets up from his seated position, tossing the rag that he wiped his hands with on the work bench watching Y/N tense at the thoughts he was getting. “What’s stopping yea from just saying how yea feel?”

“Don’t you like…gotta know first if they like or don’t like the same gender…”

“Mm. From what I learned growing up, people just take their chances and if they ain’t? You move on”

“There’s nothing to move onto”

“That…sounded bad. But if you have a crush on the kid, then why not take the risk?”

“Cuz there’s also the chance of this Enid girl”

“Have you heard of bisexuals?” Daryl questioning only to receive a glare from Y/N as he held his hands up defensively. “I’ve never seen this Enid girl anyway. Heard of her but not seen her”

“Yeah well she’s on Rick’s good side for the most part. The dude doesn’t know she climbs the walls…and that Carl follows her and I just. Stay in here”

His kid was jealous, he could sense that instantly. But again, he doesn’t know until he just says something.

“Either take the risk or be disappointed, bud” Daryl pats him on the back as Y/N gave him a saddened look.

“I’m scared though”

“It’ll be alright. Whatever happens. It’ll be alright, son”

The next day, Daryl went to talk about such with Rick without his kid knowing that he was doing so. Since to Y/N’s surprise, everyone knew about his crush on the Grimes kid…except the kid himself.

Rick stopped watching a certain someone from the window when he heard the front door open. “Who is it?”

“Were yea expecting someone other than me?” Daryl scoffs shutting the door behind him watching his friend move away from the window. “No seriously. Who were yea expecting?”

“Just doing my job. Keepin’ an eye on people” Rick brought himself into the kitchen to get a bottle ready for Judith as it was almost time for her to wake from her nap. “What’s up, Daryl?”

“It’s about our boys” He says in a calm manner when joining him in the kitchen, but even with the calmness it still lead to worry coming on Rick’s face.

“What happened to our sons? Did Carl fight that Ron kid? Or did Y/N try leavin’ again”

“No to both of those. But it’s mainly about Y/N’s feelings”

Rick froze a moment as he screwed on the bottle cap before letting the confusion continue on his expression.

“Gonna have to explain more”

“Everybody knows Y/N likes your son”

“Okay, who doesn’t like Carl? He’s a great kid”

I’m about to lose my shit Daryl squints trying to read the oblivious expression on his friend’s face. “Rick. Seriously?”

“Seriously what?”

Guess the Grimes have that in common, being fucking clueless to things like love. Daryl wasn’t going to have it and would have to bring this type of conversation up again.

But in the mean time, Y/N was slowly building up the courage to talk to Carl. He climbed over the wall to follow after him wherever he was going and it didn’t take long to find the young Grimes…and what he was doing.

The archer flinched from his spot by the window which was a habit of his, Rick did it for different intentions earlier. He mainly reacted to the front door shutting harshly, immediately noticing Y/N running into the house.

“Hey! What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing! The world is a terrible fucking shithole that I don’t want to be apart of” Y/N yells back only for Daryl to get annoyed and ignore the boundary his son has where if he was upset, then Daryl can’t just barge in on the matter he has to approach it gently. But given he almost broke the front door, he wasn’t having it.

“What happened? Seriously. You can’t just shut out and curse”

“Why can’t I just fucking internalize my feelings for a fucking night! I don’t want to talk about it” Y/N snaps about to shut the door to the basement apartment the two stayed in under the Grimes’s residence. But Daryl caught his foot in it.

“Nah. We’re either talking about it or I’m stickin’ with yea until you calm down”

“I’m not going to fucking hurt myself!”

“STOP CURSING” Daryl snaps. “And how do I know you won’t when that’s what yea used to do back in the prison after we found yea”

He didn’t know he knew. But honest? How can you hide something that serious in the apocalypse? Even the old world there would be an anxious aura whenever something as serious as that happened. Or at least Daryl isn’t blind to stuff like that.

“I’m…I’m not gonna do anything…I just wanna stop thinkin’ about it” Y/N frowns pressing his back against the wall and slumping to the floor. “I wish I didn’t see it”

Daryl frowns bringing himself to kneel to his level and not asking, but gave his kid a look to tell him at his own speed.

“Can we just…talk about it in the morning”

“As long as I know you’re not gonna do anythin’, bud.” Daryl sighs. “And that if anythin’ during the night yea come and get me”

“…Okay”

It didn’t take long for the anxiety to consume Daryl during the night. He already has issues sleeping and now this? He didn’t want anything to happen to his kid and given their conversation from the other day…it could only be revolved around that. Or something REALLY bad happened that has nothing to do with it.

But the next morning, without the usual having breakfast with the rest of their group. Y/N leaned up against the wall as Daryl stood in the kitchenette.

“Did yea sleep?”

“No…I should’ve just known” Y/N frowns bringing his attention to his feet. “Like. Why did I even bother trying to build up the courage to tell him if I was just gonna see what I saw”

“You told Carl?”

“No, but I saw him and Enid kiss”

“Oh…oh, I’m sorry kid” Daryl didn’t know what else to say as Y/N didn’t know what he wanted to hear frankly. “Somebody will come”

“Oh like that’s possible”

It is. Given Daryl and Aaron are recruiters and there are other fishes…in this apocalyptic sea. But this was recent and he wanted to feel his feelings in private.

Even if he doesn’t know the other side of the story.

________

The two hide within a tree trunk to avoid walkers and whoever else was outside the walls. Enid brought herself close as Carl tensed slightly when looking her in the eye to try and read what she was instigating.

Then when her lips pressed against his and the sound of shuffling happening, Carl pulled away giving her a confused look.

“Uh”

“Oh. Shit I overstepped”

“No—Well. Yes. Sorry I just…don’t like yea in that way”

“Oh okay…” Enid wasn’t entirely surprised, her being in a similar situation as another where you have to take the risk and either be disappointed never knowing or at least knowing feeling either way. “So…this is a bit awkward”

“Yeah. But like. I care about you and I don’t want this to like. Ruin the chance of being friends”

“It’ll be awkward yea. But no I agree.” Enid reassured him with a smile. “Just friends”

As they exited the tree once the coast was clear, the two started to head back toward the wall they scaled and Enid had to know.

“Who…do you like?”

“Do I have to like someone?”

“No”

“Well I do. I just had to make sure”

Enid rolls her eyes followed by a laugh as Carl drops down beside her. “Imma guess if you don’t say anything”

“I’m not gonna be surprised if you get it on the first guess”

“Oh, so it is Y/N? Cuz that’s who I was thinking of. Ron doesn’t seem like your type…whatever that is”

“Clearly Y/N”

“Right”

________

“Daryl, we need to talk”

The archer is always disturbed when working on his bike and there’s only two people he doesn’t care for the disruption, Rick ain’t one of them.

“I’m busy”

“It’s about our sons”

Daryl sets his tools down giving Rick his undivided attention, noticing the tense expression on his face which lead to his worry but he was better at masking it.

“What happened?”

“Carl just told me he likes your son”

Holy shit Daryl instantly stood to his feet when he heard such and thought how did Rick find this out or what more could’ve happened that didn’t involve either of them. “Okay?”

“Like. Fuck how do I go about this?!”

Oh. Great. “Rick, are you like. Upset by it or—-“

“NO! NO NO NO.” Rick scrambled a bit before taking a deep breath. “No. Just surprised is all. I don’t know what to do about the information I was given”

“Be happy for our kids? But…Uh. Wait. What did Carl tell yea exactly?”

“That he likes both males and femal—“

“About Y/N”

“That he likes Y/N a lot and that he’s been avoiding him. Asking me what he should do but I don’t know!”

Part of Daryl wanted to smack Rick given he has more parenting experience than the archer but he’s this clueless. But another part worried about his kid.

“You’ve seen Y/N today?”

“No, neither has Carl or frankly anybody”

Not like Y/N would go very far since when they first brought him in he was a bit skittish, sure. But as Daryl took him in and the group made him feel like he was a part of something…he never wanted to leave that. He simply has his moments he would rather be alone but he’ll always come back.

And he does.

Daryl waited by the gate for most of the day thinking about the route he’ll take to go find Y/N if he doesn’t come back soon. But when the gates were pushed open, letting said individual in as he was instantly met with a glare.

“Uh. I brought game?” Y/N tried to soften the tension looming as he held up a rabbit that he caught.

“You gotta go talk to Carl”

“Why?” Y/N scoffs carrying his rabbit toward their home as Daryl grabbed his shoulder carefully pulling them back. “What! Why do I have to?! His answer was loud and clear”

“His answer wasn’t loud and clear. You gotta trust me and go talk to Carl.”

“Okay…and what do I get if I do it?”

A boyfriend what fucking else do yea want?! Daryl thought as he knew where Y/N was about to go which made him a tad annoyed.

“You tell Carol.”

“Do I have to go fucking first?”

“No, and language” Y/N grins deviously before tossing the rabbit at him and making his way to the Grimes’ residence but up to where Carl’s room was.

The time from the gate to the door of Carl’s room, made him anxious. He didn’t want to talk about it with him. Didn’t want to be rejected face to face…but right before Y/N knocked on the door, he heard his name being called from the stairs…noticing Carl had gotten home right after he did.

“Oh uh. This is awkward”

“But good. I gotta talk to you”

Huh? Y/N brought himself close but enough for distance even if Carl did take a step forward to break it and some part of Y/N kept him cemented.

“You’ve been avoiding me…and it’s got me thinking about what happened recently with uh. Me and Enid”

“Oh I—“

“I knew someone had ran off in the distance. Too fast to be a Walker or at least we don’t know any variants that can run uh…Just. I knew you saw what you saw”

“Oh…and I’m guessing you’re confirming—-“

“No!…No. it’s not like that at all…I do like Enid. But it was never in that way” Carl started to become a bit bashful as the rise of a pink hue came to his cheeks. “Really never was”

Now Y/N was feeling a bit of the heat rise to his cheeks as he thought this was his window. It is! Just say—-

“I like you”

That left the two to laugh at the unison as Carl instantly brought Y/N into his embrace, feeling him tighten his grasp on the Grimes. The two held onto each other for a while…until the time felt right to take that next step. Even if for the time being it was a kiss on the cheek from Y/N to Carl because they might not know, but the two knew the dads looming on the first floor.

“You think he confessed”

“Yeah they are definitely sucking face right about now if they ain’t talkin’”

“WHAT”

“Calm your tits, Rick. They’re young love let them enjoy themselves…” Daryl starts as it started to get a bit too quiet. “BUT NOT TOO MUCH”

“FUCK OFF DAD” Y/N yells downstairs as that was their cue to leave the two alone for a bit.

Enjoy their happiness for themselves

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #carl grimes fanfiction

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suzukiblu · 3 months

Note

Okay yeah, I wasn't sure about it at first but after actually reading it, The Parasite has me in a chokehold now. Of course Clark is beating himself up for a tragedy that he couldn't have known to try and prevent, and of course everyone else is beating themselves up for not thinking of mind control. How could anyone have known? And how would anyone think to consider a brain parasite of all things? Especially in a Kryptonian. His last brain scan wasn't even an unreasonably long time before the parasite took over, so they can't even say that they missed a checkup or anything (before it was too late anyways)

And Kon, if he actually did notice the mind control and the parasite actually did kill him, of course he'd be the one to see it. With mind control being as familiar of a concern as it is for him (being born with programming like that, even incomplete programming, would probably have you checking your thoughts and actions regularly) and it being CLARK, yeah it is very likely that he would be the first person to notice. Really hoping this isn't the case though, Clark is already in enough pain from the things the parasite did. Him and Kon don't deserve this.

In conclusion; good angst, great angst, I got so upset I got a headache (frequent occurrence when stressing out over angst. Brain don't like tension, which is unfortunate because thats one of my favourite things to read)

Thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I really love it and love all the hurting in it. But also I'm sorry about the headache, haha, oh god, I'm so sorry about the headache. 😅 I just want to make you cry, not get HEADACHES! That's not the kind of hurting I'm trying to cause!!

( also uhhhhh when I write more of this the angst is only gonna get WORSE so fair warning, keep your headache meds on tap for future installments )

I'm also really pleased the logic of why no one realized what was going on worked for you, I tried REAL hard to make it believable. Like, there's just situations you can't plan for and wouldn't notice! That's just a thing! Even with people you really care about and even if you're Lois Lane or freakin' BATMAN.

#anonymous #rintalk

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istherewifiinhell · 2 months

Text

weee grabbing from joelle cause do love question time

a) three ships

shrugs good naturedly of its tf mode time

meg.ops. please see preemptiment texts on the matter rip each other apart gay styles and hold that man who is a gun

sound.rod (still a bad name sorry) that shit was crazy. like its funny ppl can say like ohh chaotic one serious one ship but im pointing at the guy with no face and serious affect and im pointing and saying. dramatic hater. little bitch (aff). pointing at the one who blasts fire at his friends and gets blasted with like x10 more fire. and im saying. preemiment diplomatic leader of his generation. and then they fist bump and play 80s jams and save the world its the most romantic shit ive every seen in my life

hmm. hmm. yeah okay im gotta say meg.star just to SAYYY. i dont think ppl get how funny this one is. no shut up with ur wah wah angst. this is fun for them. otherwise theyd leave. maybe probably. its like loony toons tom and jerry shit ship. bd.sm isnt fixing them cause what their doing is so much funnier.

HONOURABLE menchy to arm hot shot and his 50 war time homosocial bonds boyfriends. everyone who sees that guy is like. Oh i GOTTA have some weird thing with him. but his dipshit can do attutitude cockiness and true unbreakable friendship. hes irresitiable. guy is probably the highest ranking any tf every got to be (combined army commander) and they still wont make him shotimus prime. stupid.

b) first ever ship

this is one of those memory tricks id need to ask an older brother but they dont fucking know that. uhhhhh?? gigolas? or smth? probably some shit like that watching a movie and being like. damn. cool. first fics read was probably some clamp shit.

c) last song

[blasts the dsnine theme] NAHH uhhh what was the last song in knights tale. some queen shit prob? prob some queen shit?

d) last movie

SEE ABOVE

e) currently reading

justtttt finished light in gaza soooo? i have another book downloaded what is it. essays for free palestine. both from haymarket books.

f) currently watching

[ID: TF whirl, same as my icon, flat expression]. END

guess. (actuallly its. whatever comes after this one. NOT THE final one yet. soon.)

g) currently consuming

bo'uh'le uh wah-er (bottle of water. 1L metal bottle babyyyy)

h) currently craving

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. dinner and then bed?

tagging: whoever didnt get GOT yet. idk. doooo question time i love reading words.

#some shit #[types entirely in tags cadence] huh well.#its not called cisformers

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 1 year

Text

To The Shadows that Cry Witch - Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to the fic that started up my writing again! This is my biggest project, so I hope you love it just as much as I do! It's a bit long winded, so I'll try to make it worth the read! Enjoy!

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from Earth ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

So uhhhhh.. magic’s real. Middle earth’s real. Shit goes down. Bon appetite.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack

Warnings: Violence, swearing, graphic descriptions of injuries, character death (anything else I will add)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

Go back to Tolkien Masterlist

To the Shadows that Cry Witch

Chapters will now be posted monthly between 5-10pm (UK time)!!

Purple text - release dates

Green text - Posted

Extras:

Behind the scenes notes (may or may not post)

Headcanons - Kíli x oc (to be written)

Headcanons - Fíli x oc (to be written)

Playlist - Part 1 (coming soon!)

To the Shadows that Cry Witch - Soundtrack Playlist

The Hobbit - Before it all began

Part 1 - The Journey to Middle Earth:

Prologue

Chapter I - Go on a road trip they said, it’ll be fun they said

Chapter II - I should’ve stayed in bed

Chapter III - Error: Friend not found

Chapter IV - Hey ghouls, the girls are here

Chapter V - Coping mechanisms my ass

Chapter VI - Ironically Alive

Chapter VII - This is why you don't socialise

Chapter VIII - How it feels to chew five gum

Chapter IX - The Teletubbies could never.

Chapter X - DIE. But first, food.

Part 2 - Settling into the Shire:

Chapter XI - Unfortunate Beginnings

Chapter XII - Not much has changed but there's Wi-Fi now

Chapter XIII - Item: Suspicion

Chapter XIV - Thanks, I hate it

Chapter XV - Screaming

Chapter XVI - 'Time for a shopping spree!' They said, unemployed.

Chapter XVII - I am confusion

Chapter XVIII - Into the thick of it.

Chapter XIX - Beautiful new - BLOO - passport.

Chapter XX - Yer a wizard. Sorry, witch.

Chapter XXI - Interesting Concept. Poor Execution.

Chapter XXII -

(To be continued...)

The Hobbit - An Unexpected Journey

Part 3 - O.D.R: Operation Dwarf Rave

Part 4 - The Journey Begins

Part 5 - Rivendell and the Misty Mountains

Part 6 - Deep beneath the surface

The Hobbit - The Desolation of Smaug

Part 7 - Of Bees and Bears

Part 8 - Jailbreak

Part 9 - On Thin Ice

Part 10 - To wake the Beast

The Hobbit - The Battle of the Five Armies

Part 11 - A downed dragon, is a dead dragon

Part 12 - Gold's Parasite

Part 13 - I will have war

Part 14 - The Ravens

Part 15 - Until the sky comes falling down

The Hobbit - The Aftermath

Part 16 - Amrâlimê

Part 17 - The Stones Whisper

Part 18 - A Proclomation

Part 19 - Calling all Witches and Wizards

Part 20 - Till all are one

Part 21 - The Calling

Enjoy! <3

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staaaaforlife · 1 year

Text

comments and likes are very much appreciated. thank youuuu

word count:2408(sorry yallll)

warnings: angst (if you squint), harddom!Felix x Sub! Reader: Felix being jealous over Soobin; degrading (Felix calling the reader a whore and slut like a lot); virgin reader; breeding kink; unprotected sex (don’t do)

"Come on, it's not that cold," your friend Felix said. "Felix, I don't want to go in the water," you said, going back to your phone. "What's the point in going to the beach if all you're doing is sitting on the sand doing nothing?" "Let me be," you said, rolling your eyes. Felix sighed and gave up. "Fine, but I'm right here if you need me," he said, going to the water with your other friends. See, the thing is, you have a crush on Felix. You guys became friends 3 months ago, and then you became really close with each other; the more you hung out, the more you realized how much you like him-maybe even love him. You confessed to him a month ago, but he said you guys were better off being friends, so yeah, you guess. You fell asleep on your towel, wishing the day would end.

You heard people talking, so you got up, but it wasn't anyone you knew. It was a boy with some of his friends. "Oh, hey, you're awake," he said, smiling down on you. "Hey, me and my friends have been watching you from afar, and I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go on a date with me." He said it shyly. I mean, he is kind of cute... But Felix. "Uhhhhh," you said, looking up at him. "I'm Soobin, by the way," he said, flashing you a warm smile and bringing his hand out for you to shake. "I'm y/n," you said, shaking his hand. "Y/n," he repeated. "A pretty name for a pretty girl. Anyway, can I get your number or anything?" "I mean, sure, why not?" "She's taken." A deep voice came from behind you, but you knew who it was. "felix?" "Oh, she is; she was just about to give me her number." "she was just playing with you now leave, or else I'll fucking kick your ass." Soobin looked at Felix, then at you. Your face was in shock as to what just happened. you? felix? dating? Are you dreaming? "Are you sure? She seems pretty interested." "What did I say? Leave now," fine," but before he could leave, he dropped a paper next to you and winked before leaving. "Felix, what the hell?" you said, slightly screaming. "what? What did I do wrong?" "Felix The guy was trying to get my number, and you scared him off." "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into-" "It seems like you don't know a lot of things, Felix. "You got up, "tell them that I'm leaving," "wait yall, don't go," why, so you can make me sad," he sighed, and just let you leave. Before you did, you picked up Soobin's number. ' Time to have some fun, you said in your head as you were walking off the beach.

When you got home, you texted Soobin.

y/n: Hey, is this Soobin? This is y/n.

Soobin: Oh, hey, I didn't know you were actually going to text me! after what your boyfriend did.

y/n: Soobin, he's not my boyfriend. I don't know why he said that. I confessed to him, and then he rejected me.

Soobin: Ah, I got you. soooo me? you? date tomorrow?

y/n: I would love to too!

You put your phone down, and as soon as you did that, you heard a knock at your door. You groaned and got up to open it. "felix? What are you doing here?" "Y/N, please let me just explain myself. I know you're confused. I just want to clear everything up, and I'll be on my way. You don't even have to talk to me again. Just please hear my side." You didn't want him to leave, though. "Fine," you let him in, and he smiled. "Ahh, thank you so much." He sat down on the couch, and you followed him and sat a little farther away than you used to. "OK, yeah, look, I never wanted to break your heart," he sighed. "When you confessed to me, I was nothing but happy, but I wasn't ready, and I should have said that back then; I just wasn't thinking. Y/N, look, I really like you; I have all this time. That's why I got so jealous of that guy. I really like you, y/n, and I was just scared for you to leave me because it happened before." You looked at him shocked. "You like me?" "Yes, I like you, and it's ok if you had lost your feelings for me. I don't blame you." "felix..." "I know I'm a bad person. I'm a dick. I'm an asshole, he began, and before he could go on, you kissed him. something you've been wanting to do for a while now. His lips were soft and sweet, like cotton candy. He felt amazing. He felt... right. He pulled away with the biggest dorkiest grin ever. "I take that as you like me back?" "No shit," he huffed a laugh and kissed you again, pulling away and smiling wider if it was even possible. "You don't have to be sassy." "Waiting for you this long? I think I have a right too, Mr." Just as you said, Soobin called you. You looked at Felix and then back at the phone. "Who's that?" he said, looking at the caller ID. "Would you be angry if I told that guy on the beach?" You were smiling as if you had done nothing wrong. "No, no, no, hun, I'd be furious. I'll just kill him before he gets to touch you." You looked at him. "Uhh, then it's not him," you said, "anyway, when are you hungry?" "No, no, no, call him back." "W-w-what?" "Call him back," he repeated a little more darkly than before. "U-u-uh, ok," you took the phone and called Soobin. "Ahh, hey, pretty girl, do you want to have that date today if you're free?" Felix looked at you and then at the phone. "Are you ok? You seem tense. I know a way to help your baby." Felix couldn't take it anymore, so he grabbed the phone. "What part of shes taken, didn't you understand?" "O-oh, but," he said, "don't call my girlfriend again." He hung up the phone. He looked up at you and saw you already looking at him. "Date today?" "Felix, please don't go," he stood up, "oh no, no, no, go with him. "Felix, please, I need you-and only you," you said. He looked at you and smiled. "Say that again, doll," he said, looking at you with nothing but lust. "I need you." "Fucking Hell." He smashed his lips against yours rougher than before. and pushed you to the couch, hovering over you. "Oh, the things I'm going to fucking do to you; you're going to only think of me and my name." Fuck, "I already think about you. "Fuck baby, let's take this to your room, yeah?”

You were sweating in these clothes, and you wanted them off. "Can Soobin make you out of breath just by kissing you?" "N-no" "Yeah, thats right," he said, kissing your neck while griding his hard cock on your cunt. You gasped as it took you by surprise. Fuck, what am I going to do with you?" he said, sucking on your neck, making sure to leave a mark. F-felix, "Yes, darling?" "I need you in me." "Oh, is that right? Your greedy little pussy was just over soobin, but you want my cock, what a fucking whore," you moaned at his words. "Fucking slut, do you like being talked down like this? You like being talked down like a little slut." You shyly hid your face with your hands. "No, no, no," he said, tearing off your hand, "you're going to answer me. Do I make myself clear?" "Y-yes, I liked being talked down like a fucking whore." "Fuck," he growled, attacking your lips. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this; I've wanted you for so long," he whispered. "Take off your clothes." "W-what, fel-?" "I'm giving you what you want." Take off your fucking clothes." He didn't have to tell you twice. Soon, both of your clothes were off. "Look at you.. fucking sweet, sweet body, I can't wait to have a taste." "What are you waiting for?" "I need to play with you and make you wet." "Felix, I'm already wet as fuck." "Fuck, you really want me that bad, don't you?" he said, stroking his cock slowly. "Y-yes, please." "Alright, I'll give you what you want even though you don't deserve my cock.”

Soon he was aligning his cock with your wet cunt. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking at you. "Ready" just like that, he pushed his cock into you slowly, pushing his head back. "F-fuck your so tight, am I the first one to use this pussyhm baby?" You couldn't answer; you were too busy screaming. His hand found its way to your neck. "When I ask you something, I expect you to answer." "Yeah, you're the first one, Lix." You felt his cock twitch inside you. "Fuckkk," he pushes the rest inside you, waiting for you to adjust. "M-move please." His hips snapped against yours once, making you let out a shaky moan. "You like that?" he said smugly. "Y-yes," he smiled and pulled, pushing back into you and snapping his hips this time. "F-fuck you; you feel so nice and warm. I don't know what I was thinking," he said, moving faster. "F-fuck Felix." "Yeah, you like that? You like being fucked like this, baby? Like being fucked by a man who rejected you, huh?" "Fuck! Yes, Felix, don't stop." "Open your mouth." "Wh-" "Open your fucking mouth." You did as you were told, opening your mouth to him. "Good girl," he grabbed your hair from behind and spit in your mouth. Fuck. "Your fucking mine not soobin; not anyone else but me got that?" "I-I- Fuck," he pulled out and flipped you on your stomach and spanked your ass, making you jump and clench around nothing. "Last time I asked you to fucking answer me," "Yes, i-im all yours!!" Just as you said, your phone rang. Felix looked at the caller ID. "Speaking of the Devil," he chuckled. "Why don't you answer him, baby?" "I-i-i can't." "I wasn't asking you, I was telling you to pick up the phone now." You sobbed and picked it up, putting it on the speaker. "hey y/n! Are you ok?" You heard him ask worrily, "i-I'm good, and you tried to hold back a moan as Felix fucked the living daylights out of you. "Are you sure you sound out of breath? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Felix chuckled. "Hurt you, he says." "N-no, Soobin, don't worry, I'm fine." "Yeah, you are," Soobin joked. felix growled, sending hard trust but slow trust to your pussy. "Hey, are you sure you're ok?" he asked. "How about some face time?" "No, Soobin, thats not a good idea," you moaned, covering your mouth. "What are you doing over there?" "Uh, nothing." "Are you touching yourself?" Far from it. "Soobin, I have to go," you hung up, letting out the loudest moan as you came around him. "Fuck baby, do you like being almost caught by a guy who wants to fuck you?" "Y-yes, fucck," he was still fucking you; the oversimplification was too much. "Fuckkk," he grabbed your hair, pulling you up to him. Your bodies were closer than ever. "Your fucking mine, f-fuck, where do you want me to go, darling?" "Side me," you said, but you couldn't even get the words out of your mouth. He chuckled-"can't even say it"-and his hand made its way to your neck, squeezing tightly but not too tightly enough to make you see stars. "You want me to knock you up but can't even say the fucking words. You want me to put a baby in your belly, is that right? Want me to mark you up? make you officially mine?" "Yes! Yes! Yes!" He looked at you as your head was thrown back to his chest. He took this as a perfect opportunity to spit in your face. "I'm gonna cum.. I'm cumping!" Fuck! He said as he came inside, letting out a drawn groan and pulling his head back. "Fuckkkk, take my cum, baby.. take my fucking cum. Uhhh, fuck, just like that. fuck yes.." He let you go, and your body went limp, dropping on the bed. He fell next to you both if you were trying to get your breath back into your body. "Are you ok, baby?" he asked softly, not like he had before. "More than ok," you said in between breaths. "Soooo, ahem," sooooo," "date tomorrow?" you laughed. "Sorry, I'm booked; Soobin took your place." "Don't test me," he said, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. "I'm joking, and I would love to too." "Hey, don't leaveee," I said as he stood up, "I have to get you cleaned. Hold on." He walked out and came back with a warm rag to clean you up. He lays down next to you “mine

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