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rinneverse · 2 years

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊ 𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 ! · · · ♡

— pairings: heizou, kazuha, dottore, itto x f!reader

— warnings: hickeys (obviously), heizou is a little shit (affectionate), suggestive content but pretty tame tbh, kazuha is a tits man i said what i said, dottore is a little bit (lotta bit) of a sadist, minor bloodplay (?) in dottore’s part, itto also nicks you but it’s an accident this time. this is not proofread btw EL O ELLLLL

— synopsis: how different genshin men like to mark you up.

— notes: technically a part 2 to what i posted on my old blog (found here!). i hope u guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3. i may or may not have started losing steam around itto’s part so if it seems a little lackluster compared to the others, thats probably why and im sorry 💔 i’ll do him justice one day.

THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG! MINORS DNI, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. 🤍

✧˚ · . SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. ༉‧₊˚.

→ heizou is a playful lover.

→ he adores marking you up to let the rest of inazuma know just who you belong to.

→ can and will feign ignorance when you go to complain about the MULTIPLE markings blooming along the smooth expanse of your neck and collar.

→ “h-heizou, c’mon, you know it’s hard covering these up…” you murmur, lacing a hand through his soft locks as he grins lopsidedly against your collar. he responds by nipping at your sensitive skin, pulling a yelp from you.

→ as a response, you tug his hair back a little and the little groan he lets out sends heat straight between your legs. he grins even wider at you.

→ oh, heizou knows the effect he has on you. he knows how to play you so expertly, as if he were a pianist playing a masterpiece at a recital.

→ “pretty girl, i don’t want you to cover them up,” he hums, cupping your face with a hand. he strokes his thumb lovingly over your cheek. “all of inazuma should know you’re mine. i can’t have other men looking at you, right?”

→ your face heats up at his possessive words, pressing your face closer to his hand as if it’ll hide your flustered state from him. if anything, it does the opposite. he giggles and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses up your neck before he claims your lips with his.

→ maybe you would indulge him a little bit. maybe you’d try a little less harder on covering up the numerous markings littering your neck.

✧˚ · . KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. ༉‧₊˚.

→ kazuha prefers to leave hickeys in places only you two will ever see.

→ he doesn’t need the world to know the two of you are together. the quiet whisper of affection between lovers is more than enough for him.

→ that, and he thinks that it is much more intimate to have markings only the two of you know of.

→ “zu, that- ah! that tickles!” you gasp as he sucks a mark right by your navel, hands gripping the plush flesh of your hips as he grins up at you.

→ he kisses a trail up to your exposed breasts, trailing his hands up higher as he stares up at you with intense crimson eyes.

→ “would you rather i kiss you up here?” he murmurs, planting his lips on the sensitive skin of your chest. he sucks a mark right above where your bra covers you up from him, feeling your chest rumble as you let out soft noises of pleasure.

→ all the noises you made was like music to his ears, his incentive to keep going. “may i?” he asks, tucking his fingers under the band of your bra. you nod your head, but he waits until you verbally say, “kazuha, please.”

→ with a melodic hum, he unhooks the garment with practiced ease and goes right back to making the song he loves to hear.

✧˚ · . IL DOTTORE. ༉‧₊˚.

→ dottore is precise with how he marks you up.

→ it makes him feral, seeing you lying there below him, submissive and pliant just for him. letting him play with you as he pleases.

→ loves watching hickeys bloom across your skin, teasingly nipping at ones already prominent and sore just to hear you yelp.

→ every twitch, every sound you make, it burns into his brain. how could he ever forget anything about his beautiful little pet? marking you up so nicely for the other fatui to see. after all, they must know you belong to him and him only.

→ most the time, he’s careful with how hard he bites. we wouldn’t want to hurt you too much, now do we?

→ but occasionally, there’s a nagging in the back of his mind, telling him to do it, do it, you just taste so delicious. and on days when you act out, or days where you get on his nerves, whether you’re aware of it or not—he decides a little bit of punishment is in order.

→ so he gives in and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, just hard enough to puncture your tender flesh with his canines, tearing a cry from your throat. his tongue laves over the wound immediately, his senses flooded with the copper tang of your blood. he grins maniacally up at you.

→ “it’s okay,” he soothes you in response to your teary eyes, pressing a kiss over the angered skin. “you know i would never do anything to actually harm you. it feels good now after all, doesn’t it, my pet?”

→ he knows that you’re clenching your thighs together. he knows that you’re a little bit of a masochist—he wouldn’t have it any other way. you were his perfect little darling pet.

✧˚ · . ARATAKI ITTO. ༉‧₊˚.

→ itto is another one of the playful lover types.

→ he’s a little worried he might nip you a little too hard with his teeth, but a little bit of reassurance from you goes a long way.

→ that, and there’s that feral oni urge that nags at him to mark you up so that everyone knows you’re his. of course, he loves it even more if you return the favor, letting you add to the many red markings that already adorn his skin.

→ the gang is never surprised when the two of you emerge from some dark alleyway with matching hickeys at this point.

→ “itto, itto, careful!” you gasp softly as his teeth leave pretty little indentions on the smooth skin of your shoulder, the man in question letting out a little yelp before kissing it quickly (and gently) in apology.

→ “sorry bunny, you just taste so sweet!” he mumbles, kissing your temple. you smile up at him with adoration in your eyes.

→ “s’ok, you know i’ve never minded,” you speak softly, combing a hand through his unruly hair. his chest rumbles with what suspiciously sounds like a purr. you grin widely.

→ with the amount of times he’s accidentally pricked your skin, you’re used to it by now. you would even dare venture to say that maybe it felt good. just a little bit.

→ he hefts you up in his arms suddenly and you let out a squeal of surprise, your legs locking around his waist as his hands cup your ass. you drape your arms over his big shoulders as he grins at you.

→ itto also happened to be an insatiable lover—it must’ve been the oni blood in him. you were in for a long night.

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floydsmuse · 2 months

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I will ease your mind.

Warnings: none! it’s just fluff and some slight angst?

Description: Bob soothes you to sleep by singing you, yours and his wedding song. (wc: 800+)

Tagging: @auroralightsthesky. Mary I couldn’t have written this without your constant encouragement & kind words :,) this one’s for you my friend <3

Song: “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon & Garfunkel. I’d recommend giving it a listen before or during reading.

A/N: hi! so this is the first oneshot i’ve written in a minute. i love this song & have been listening to it on repeat lately picturing Bob singing it to me, which gave me the idea to write this haha :) i hope you all enjoy it <3

————————————————————————

Bob could tell something was off, from the very moment you two settled in for the night. Your lips barely grazed against his when bidding him his usual goodnight kiss, you avoided all eye contact, and were quick to flip over onto your side that faced away from your lover’s longing gaze.

Bob didn’t want to push or pry, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. He didn’t want to have to witness you falling asleep feeling on edge. He wanted to comfort you and ease you the best way he knew he could.

He was gentle, making subtle movements and turning just enough to notice you starting to stir a bit. Bob could tell just how tense you were. You were practically balled up like a kitten and were moved towards the edge of your side of the bed. Your knees were scrunched up towards your chest and your shoulders were squeezed together. Bob was afraid that if you wound yourself up any tighter, then you would somehow end up stuck that way, in this very position.

Bob slowly moved an inch, not wanting to startle you. He oh so carefully reached out and placed a large palm onto your back and began to move his hand in soothing circles starting from the middle of your back and slowly traveling upwards towards your shoulder blades. he curled his fingers, which allowed for his nails to run along your clothed skin & he gently kneaded his thumb to soften up your tight muscles, which elicited a light purr from of you.

Bob’s movements didn’t let up, as he leaned down to press a light kiss onto your head. You were still tense and wound up, only letting out the littlest of sighs and hums from the soothing touches of your husband. Bob knew what could possibly fix this.

He began to lightly hum the sounds of a song, that he knew would pique your interest. You didn’t move initially, just soaking in the light grazes of Bob’s magical palm.

You suddenly perked up when you heard Bob reciting the words out loud, singing in his calm and quiet voice, as he began simultaneously running his fingers through your hair,

When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them off.

Oh this man, you thought to yourself. Bridge Over Troubled Water was the first song you both danced to at your wedding and it was just destined to make you crumble into a million and one pieces.

You reached back to gather your husband’s hand into your much smaller one and ran your fingers along the back of his palm, making sure to gently rub at the wedding band on his finger to further relax yourself. Bob continued to sooth you, his voice sounding like an angel’s sent from the Heaven’s above,

I’m on your side. Oh when times get rough, and friends just can’t be found.

You closed your eyes, soaking in the song that meant so much to you and your relationship. Flashes of your wedding day and marrying the love of your life were running through your mind. Bob had told you during your vows that the very first moment he saw you that day at the Hard Deck, he knew there was something so special about you. He knew you were going to be his person, til the end of your days. He made a promise very much like the lyrics of this song, that he would be by your side during all the ups and down. That he would dry your tears, ease your troubles and mind, and would most importantly be a friend to you if no one else could be found.

Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,

Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down…

And that was it. Those last lines of lyrics made all the stress and uneasiness that built up from the day be completely released from you. Tears fell from your tired eyes and rolled down your cheeks, as you let out a distinct sob into your pillow. It felt good to finally break away from anxiety’s clutches and allow yourself to feel freely.

Bob had paused for a moment, wanting to coax you to further let it all out and breathe for him. He knew how much you needed this and was glad he could be there beside you, to help you get past these intense built up feelings. Your husband continued to serenade you into the night, until your breathing finally settled and the only sounds heard were the bustling winds outside your window and the lightest of snores falling from your lips.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 7 months

Note

May I request a fanfic with Dean Winchester x fem!reader, who is into cars and drives an Rx-7? She should be really sweet and innocent and her car-hobby is something you wouldn’t expect first glance. She loves drift events and works at a garage. Thank uuu!!!

Have a lovely day and remember to eat and drink enough! 💕

We Have Time

Title: We Have Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Word Count: ~3,825

A/N: Thank you so much @milkb0nny for the request!! I really got into this story, and I hope it lives up to what you were imagining.

And thank you for your kind words, I hope you have a great read and an amazing day!

A 1967 Chevy Impala.

You couldn’t help but stare, your jaw slack as you admired the car. You had a pretty nice car too, if you did say so yourself, but you hadn’t seen a freaking 1967 Chevy Impala in a while.

Your head tilted to the side as you slowly walked up to the car. You’d absolutely love to get your hands on it, but you could tell that the car was loved and well taken care of, and that the owner would probably never let another person lay their hands on it.

You were startled out of your thoughts when someone cleared their throat behind you. You whirled around in surprise and were suddenly standing face to face with two men. They were both tall, though one was taller than the other, with long brown hair. The other was a bit shorter, with cropped blond hair and piercing green eyes.

You could feel blood rushing up to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Sorry,” you said.

The taller man smiled kindly. “No worries. What’re you up to?”

You shook your head, your cheeks still flaming. “Nothing. Well, I was headed back to work, but I got distracted and now I’m a little late, but I should be fine, I think. I just love this car and I had to stop and take a closer look and now here we are.”

The taller man chuckled at your tangent, but the shorter man was looking behind you. You followed his stare and came face to face with your own lovely car. Your 1995 Mazda RX-7.

You turned back towards the two men when you heard the blond one finally speak. “That’s a damn nice car.”

You felt pride brimming in your chest. Of course it was. You’d kept it in pristine condition, and if there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was cars.

The man looked back towards you and offered a small smirk. “You like my car, sweetheart?.”

You smiled easily. “I love it, actually.”

His smirk grew as he put on a flirtatious voice shamelessly. “Oh, yeah? You wanna go for a ride sometime?”

The taller man made a face of disgust, but you were practically jumping for joy. “Really? You mean it?”

The shorter man blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to say yes. Why wouldn’t you, though? It was a freaking Impala.

You reached out a hand, still buzzing with excitement. “I guess if you’re offering me a ride, I should introduce myself. Hi, I’m y/n.”

The taller man reached out a hand first, his handshake gentle. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.”

You moved your hand towards the shorter man, who took your hand in his. His grip was firm. You smiled as he introduced himself. “Dean.”

You nodded and looked back towards the car again. “So, did you mean it?”

Dean hesitated, looking you over, before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I meant it. We’re only in town for a few days, but why don’t you give me your number? I’ll take you on a ride.”

Your smile widened and you quickly recited your number as soon as Dean had his phone out.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows at you. “You sure about this?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course. If you guys don’t mind me hitching a ride for a bit, obviously. I’d sit in the backseat, and I’m a good passenger.”

At that, a smile of amusement grew on Sam’s features as Dean cleared his throat. “I think you misunderstood me, sweetheart.”

A wave of disappointment crashed over you. “Oh.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “No, not like- I was thinking I’d leave the lunkhead behind and the two of us could go for a ride.”

“Oh,” you said again, relief filling your chest. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You could see Sam stifling laughter, though you weren’t sure why. You looked towards your phone and gasped lightly. You started walking backwards towards your car as you spoke. “I’ll definitely take you up on that, call me whenever. I really gotta go, but it was nice to meet you, though!”

You turned and ran the rest of the distance, hurriedly entering your car and driving off as quickly as possible in the hopes that you wouldn’t get fired for being so late.

From the same spot that you’d left them in, Sam burst out into laughter as Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t think she got the hint, Dean. Or maybe she’s just more interested in your car than you. You’re losing your touch.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered, sulking towards Baby. Who cared what Sam said? You’d said yes to the ride, right? That had to count for something.

He looked off in the direction your car had gone in. “I can’t believe that’s her car.”

Sam threw him a look as he walked over to Baby and opened the passenger’s door. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. If you know how to take care of it.”

“Right. Because you’ve never even gotten a scratch on your car.”

“Hey,” Dean said warningly. “Baby’s been through some tough times, but she knows she can count on me.”

~~~

Dean stood still, staring at Baby.

Sam stood to his right, staring at the damage as well. They’d been standing here for a few minutes. The worst part about it was that the hunt was already over. There was nothing and nobody for Dean to take out his anger on.

Sam glanced towards Dean, hoping that this wouldn’t cause him to go feral. He opened his mouth to offer condolences, but Dean stopped him before he could speak.

“Not a word.”

Sam nodded silently and looked back towards Baby. It definitely wasn’t pretty.

Dean had been able to fix his car up plenty of times, but Sam had a feeling that even Dean might need some help with this one, if only so that he didn’t mope around in silence for hours as he fixed his Baby.

Not that he’d say that right now, of course. He’d wait until Dean finally stopped staring at the wreckage, first.

~~~

Dean stood a safe distance away from the car garage, leaning on Baby. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger and his arms were crossed over his chest. He’d love nothing more than to just drive away, but he’d have to come back for Sam anyway, so there was really no point.

Sam was talking to someone about the damage that Baby had sustained during the hunt. Dean wasn’t even sure what cover story they were using. He’d been too upset to ask.

Not that it mattered. They shouldn’t have come in the first place. He could’ve fixed Baby up on his own.

He still could. Maybe Sam could just walk back to the motel.

“Hey!”

He glanced towards the voice and immediately dropped his arms down by his side when he saw who the voice belonged to. He smiled, the anger in his chest subsiding slightly. “Hey yourself, sweetheart.”

You looked behind him and your eyes widened as you saw the state of his car. To say that you were surprised was an understatement. You’d definitely wanted to get your hands on that car, but you really hoped that you hadn’t just manifested an accident or something.

You looked back towards Dean. “What happened?”

Dean shook his head and closed his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You nodded slowly, your eyes still stuck on the poor Impala. “Okay.”

Dean looked over at you. “Eyes are over here, sweetheart.”

Your eyes snapped over to Dean. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just… sorry. Anyway.”

Dean smiled slightly. “Anyway.”

You grinned. “You said you were only in town for a while, right? What brings you here, of all places?”

Dean felt a warmth in his chest, thankful that you were kind enough to try and distract him. “My brother and I are travelers. We just wander wherever the wind takes us.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “The wind picked a horrible time to send you here. There’s been a bunch of accidents lately. I’m getting a bit worried, honestly.”

Dean felt a small smirk creep onto his face. “Is that right? I have a feeling it’ll die down.”

You made a face. “Horrible choice of words.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he let out a small cough. “You’re right. Sorry.”

You shrugged and smiled. “It’s fine. Wandering where the wind takes you sounds fun, though. I’ll have to try it some time.”

Before Dean could respond, you heard someone call out your name. You both turned in the direction of the garage to see who it was. Your boss pointed towards the Impala and cupped her hands around her mouth to shout, “These boys need a hand with their car! You got it?”

You waved a hand to show acknowledgment. Your boss nodded and walked back into the garage.

Dean whipped his head around to face you. “You’re a mechanic?”

You smiled with pride. “Only the best in the business.”

Dean looked you up and down. “Is that right?”

“You’re the one with the beat up car.”

“Don’t.”

You grinned unapologetically. “Sorry.”

You looked up as Sam approached the two of you. “Hey,” he said, “is there anywhere around here where we can get some food?”

You nodded and pointed. “Five minute walk that way, you’re going to hit a few places and a market. Is that okay?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’s perfect, thanks.” He looked over at Dean. “Come on, let’s let her work.”

Dean looked over at you, who sent him a sweet smile. He shook his head slowly and turned back towards Sam. “I’ll stay here, help out with whatever.”

Sam made a sound of disbelief. “She’s a professional, Dean, she can handle it.”

“Oh, I know she can. I just want to see her in action.”

You blushed, looking away with a smile.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll be back.”

Dean nodded and watched for a moment as Sam walked away before turning back to you. “So. How long is this going to take?”

You shrugged and looked behind him, cringing at the damage. “Three days, minimum.”

Dean closed his eyes in pain before shaking his head. “Alright. Alright, that’s fine. We have time.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “So. What other surprises are you hiding?”

~~~

“That’s bull!”

Dean watched you fondly as you yelled at the television that was set up in the garage.

You were multitasking, watching Formula Drift as you worked on fixing up the Impala. Which isn’t what he had expected from you, but really, he should have known better by now.

After all, this was the third day that the two of you had been busy repairing Baby.

Your time together had started out quietly. On day one, when you had gotten Baby to your workspace, you’d started crooning as if she were a living thing. Dean had taken a liking to you immediately after that.

As soon as you started working, the two of you made progress quickly, much faster than he could’ve ever done it on his own. It was made even faster by the fact that you were splitting tasks and helping each other out whenever possible.

The first day of work was mostly silent, except for a few short exchanges here and there.

But on day two, you two had gotten to talking. You were an open book, no secrets or lies to you at all. Well, except for the fact that you were “sweet and harmless on the outside but a tough mechanic here in the garage”, according to Dean. You’d laughed at that, causing that warmth to appear in Dean’s chest again.

You had told Dean a bit about your life, and how your family was no longer in the picture after an accident that had happened a few years back.

“I’m sorry,” Dean had said softly.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Dean had found himself telling you a bit about his life as well. That Mary had passed away long ago, and that John had gone more recently.

You had looked at him with such compassion in your eyes as you said, “I’m sorry, truly.”

He had nodded once in acknowledgment before he’d steered the conversation towards something else.

You were easy to talk to. Almost too easy. Today, on day three of working, Dean had almost told you what he had really been doing that had caused so much damage to the Impala. He caught himself just in time, but still marveled at how easy it was to be honest with you.

Luckily, your conversation had been cut short when your boss walked in and turned the television on. “You’ve got to see this,” was all the context that she had provided before walking out once again.

Dean had glanced at the screen in surprise when he saw Formula Drift playing, and looked over at you with even more surprise when you immediately repositioned yourself so that you could work on Baby and watch the TV at the same time.

You’d been working and watching the competition for a while now, instructing Dean to hand you a tool every once in a while or giving him a job to do when you didn’t want to tear your gaze away from the screen.

But even with your focus divided, Dean could see how loving and careful you were being with Baby.

He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you when he saw how passionate you were with both the Impala and the competition. You were muttering to yourself as you worked, and looking up at the screen every once in a while to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

He wasn’t even really paying attention to the screen, or Baby, to be honest. His gaze was focused on you.

You threw your hands up in frustration and shouted at the screen before looking over at him. “You saw that, right? You saw that, I know you did.”

Dean nodded, not really even sure what he was agreeing to. “Yeah, I saw it.”

You huffed out a breath of anger and stood. “I can’t watch this anymore, it’s too much. We’re almost done here, do you want to see if Sam has some food for you?”

Dean looked down in surprise to see that you were indeed almost done with your work. A quick glance at the clock on the wall let him know that the two of you had been working hours.

He looked over at you. “Yeah, sure. We’ve been at it for a while, don’t you get breaks or something?”

You smiled. “Yeah. I’m trying to subtly ask you if I can take my break now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Yeah, no, of course. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”

He turned away from you, but stopped when he heard you groan again. He looked back to see you bouncing on your toes as you watched the screen.

You made eye contact with Dean. “I’m coming, just give me two seconds.” You looked back at the TV.

Dean shook his head in amusement and walked back over to you, gently placing one hand on your shoulder and using his other hand to grab one of yours. He slowly led you away even as you stared at the screen.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“It’s just-”

“I know.”

“It’s so stupid, he didn’t even-”

“I know, I’m sorry. Come on.”

“Dean, are you seeing this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Come on, you can do it, I believe in you.”

He finally led you away from the screen, releasing you as soon as the tension faded from your body.

You laughed in embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

Dean smiled back. “What’re you sorry for? I get it.”

You grinned, looking down at your feet. “How long are you staying in town for?”

Dean’s heart sped up. So you had definitely caught on to his not-so-subtle flirtations over the last few days.

You looked up and smiled hopefully. Dean had been nothing but kind and sweet, and you were hoping that he’d at least entertain the idea of the two of you spending more time together. Especially since he’d been hinting at it for a while now.

But as you watched his smile start to fade, you realized that your hopes had only been silly little dreams. Nothing more.

He looked away. “We don’t usually stay in one place for long. We’ll probably be out as soon as Baby’s ready to go.”

You could feel your heart drop down to your feet, but you forced a smile on your lips. “Yeah, that makes sense. Traveling with the wind and all.”

Dean nodded, still not looking you in the eye.

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll get Baby up and running soon. I’m just going to grab some food and I’ll get back to it.”

You turned your back on Dean before he could reply and walked away swiftly. You furiously wiped at your eyes as you felt them well up.

You didn’t know why you were so upset. Why would Dean put his life on hold for you when you’d only just met? Just because the two of you had some things in common? Or maybe because he had allowed you to be open and vulnerable without judgment. Or maybe because you had seen the way that he was looking at you as you worked, even though he hadn’t seen that you were looking at him the exact same way.

You stopped walking when you knew that you were out of Dean’s sight and leaned against a wall. There was no one like him in your small town, and you doubted you would ever meet anyone like him again. Someone tough but kind, eyes haunted by his past even as he tried to make sure that others didn’t have to suffer the way he did. Someone who made you feel like you had time to take things slow, and let things click into place.

You straightened and took a deep breath. You couldn’t let this affect you. Yeah, it hurt that Dean had led you to believe that you might become something, but when it came down to it, you’d only known each other a few days. No matter how much you liked him, you had to stay focused.

Even if Dean didn’t stay, you had a job to do.

~~~

“She asked you to stay?”

Dean shook his head. “No. No, she didn’t. She asked how long we’re staying for.”

Sam threw his hands up. “Same thing! What’d you tell her?”

“The truth.”

Sam spluttered. “The truth?”

Dean made a face. “Not the whole truth, I’m not insane.”

“You’ve done it before,” Sam pointed out.

“We’re getting off topic. Look, I just told her that we never stay in one place long, and that we were leaving when Baby was ready.”

“Dean,” Sam said in exasperation. “You’ve been flirting with the poor girl for days. Now she probably thinks she did something wrong.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

Sam stayed quiet for a moment. There was nothing that Dean could do to fix this. Not really. Not unless…

Sam sat up straighter. “Okay, listen. Maybe we can stay a bit longer.”

Dean shook his head. “We have a job to do, Sammy.”

“What job, Dean? We don’t have any new leads. Garth hasn’t called, and Cass hasn’t told us that the world is ending again.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We have time, Dean. Take advantage of it.”

Dean shook his head again. “Sammy, listen-”

“No, Dean, for once in your life, you listen to me. I can see the way you look at this girl. Hell, her boss sees it, too. I know our life makes it almost impossible to settle down, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.” “Sammy-”

“Wouldn’t you say the same thing to me if Jess was still around?”

Dean stayed silent. Sam was right, of course. He’d love nothing more than for his brother to be able to settle down peacefully with the love of his life.

He took a deep breath and looked up at Sam. “Alright, I hear you.” Sam nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, go get her, tiger.”

~~~

You looked up and smiled as Dean entered your workstation again.

“We’re almost done. Just a few last tweaks and you’ll be out of here.”

Dean stood across the room from you, his hands in his pockets.

You frowned in concern. “Hey. You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m alright. But, uh, there’s been a change in plans.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Oh?”

Dean offered you a small smile. “We’re actually going to be staying here a little longer than we thought.”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest, but tried to squash down your expectations. “Really?”

He nodded. “I still need to give you that ride, don’t I?”

You laughed in relief, allowing the flood of feelings that you’d been pushing back to move forward, front and center. “Yeah, you do. What made you change your mind?”

At that, Dean walked forward until he was standing beside you. “I think you know.”

You smiled. “Maybe. But I’d still like to know.”

Dean grinned and gently patted his Impala. “Well, Baby, of course. I need to be nearby in case you’re not as good as you say you are, so that I can make you pay for damages.”

You laughed. “Fair enough. You want to finish her up with me?”

“Obviously.”

You hummed. “We’re almost done, though. Where are you going to take me?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s a surprise.”

“Not always a great idea to keep a first date destination a surprise,” you said, surprised with your own boldness.

Dean chuckled. “First date, huh?”

You took a step closer to him. “Maybe. Is it?”

Dean lowered his head towards yours. “Absolutely.”

You could feel warmth radiating off of him in waves, allowing yourself to be comforted by his presence as you tilted your head up towards him.

Before you could even register what was going on, your boss burst into the room. “Hey, I have a guy out here asking for help, are you-”

You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment as Dean stepped back, looking up at the ceiling to hide his flushed cheeks.

Your boss slowly backed away, pulling the door closed behind her. “Sorry about that. Carry on.”

You peered out from behind your hands and looked up at Dean. “Maybe we should save that for our date. You know, just in case my boss decides to walk in again.”

Dean smiled, the warmth in his chest stronger than ever before. “Don’t worry about it.

We have time.”

A/N: Part 2!

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lowlights · 3 months

Text

Hi. I'm back, and I wrote this in about an hour so be nice. This is 100% inspired by @ezrasbirdie's Twinkle and the very lovely dream it gave me. So this is Birdee's fault.

Perfect Fit

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader // 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is a curvy lady with big titties and a belly, f receiving oral, mutual masturbation, cum eating, lots of praise, language, a smidge of insecurity but it doesn't last long, reader borrows Frankie's shirt, a very feral Frankie who has got it BAD for reader. Use of good girl and bebita. I also maintain that Frankie is a babbler during sex. Oh also Frankie is in sweatpants, which is a gift to us all.

The flickering lights of the TV lit up your face, an old rom-com from the '90s that you had seen a million times playing on the screen. You laughed at every joke, even though you could recite every line if asked. Frankie heard you mutter them under your breath sometimes, which he would have found annoying if it had been anyone else. Never with you though.

He wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to the movie, though.

Not for the past twenty minutes at least. Not when you were wearing those leggings and his threadbare grey t-shirt which you had borrowed for the night. Frankie could barely drag his eyes away from how his shirt pulled tight on your gorgeous tits or how the hem had rolled up just enough to show your soft tummy.

He felt like a pervert ogling you like a fucking teenager who could barely control himself, even though you had been dating for more than six months. He was allowed to ogle, but you had just had a week from hell at work and had been looking forward to a relaxing night at Frankie’s place. He could keep his hands off of you for a couple of hours so you could watch your favorite movie in peace.

You shifted slightly on his brown leather sectional and leaned into him, tucking your legs up and under you. Frankie stiffened, and you noticed. Normally he would put his hand on your knee or his arm around your shoulder. Instead, his hands flexed as he straightened out invisible wrinkles on his sweatpants.

“You alright, babe?” You pushed a stray curl behind Frankie’s ear. You made a mental note to give him a haircut this weekend. You’d been putting it off; you liked his hair on the longer side.

“Fine, fine. Just, uh- gonna go get a glass of water.” He stood up so quickly that you practically fell over.

“I…okay?” you mumbled as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He was gone long enough for the movie to culminate with the big romantic kiss and the happily ever after, making his way back to the couch as you clicked off the credits. He settled back next to you but a little further away than before and stared straight ahead.

Doubt gnawed at you. “Are you upset with me, Frankie? Is it because I made you watch this dumb movie again?” you asked softly, fiddling with one of your rings. The relationship was still new enough that you didn’t know how to read all of his emotions just yet.

His head whipped around. “What? No! Not at all, baby. I’m just- tired. You’re tired too, yeah? Should we go to bed?” His eyes darted down to your shirt, which made you realize how far it had ridden up.

You pulled down on it out of habit, and Frankie frowned. “Are you sure?” you asked.

Frankie shook his head. “C’mere,” he instructed as he helped you over to straddle his hips. You draped your arms around his broad shoulders, gasping slightly as he rolled his erection against you. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy, baby. Do you know that? Feel what you do to me?”

“But I haven’t been doing anything?” You were genuinely confused.

Frankie nuzzled his nose against your chest, breathing heavily. “You look so good in my shirt. Damn, it fits you just fucking right.”

You cupped his face and pulled him up for a kiss, his tongue immediately begging for entrance. Frankie kissed you like it was his last chance, like you were the last gasp of air he would ever take. “This shirt barely fits,” you admitted when you both broke to catch your breath.

“It’s perfect,” he said adamantly. “Don’t ever wear anything else.”

You giggled and kissed him again before he lifted you off and leaned you back so you could stretch out on the chaise portion of the couch. He had fucked you more than once here in the months since he had bought it. A christening, he had called it, the night it had been delivered.

Without a word, Frankie helped you shimmy out of your leggings and underwear, stopping to stare at you as he tossed them over his shoulder. You smiled, and felt powerful. No man ever looked at you the way Frankie had looked at you since the first night you met. He was enraptured, enthralled. And he looked like he wanted to feast on you. You bent one knee up and let it fall against the couch. His cock noticeably jumped, pressing against his sweats.

“Oh fuck. Look at my girl, she looks so pretty.” Frankie settled on his belly and pulled your leg up over his shoulder. He left a trail of kisses up your inner thigh before softly kissing your cunt. He buried his nose against your curls and inhaled deeply. “Smell so fucking good for me.”

Frankie wasted no time and licked a slow and tortuous stripe up your slit before flicking his tongue against your clit. He built a steady pace, pushing you to the edge and easing back over and over again.

“Christ, Frankie, oh my- Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” you babbled as you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him against your cunt as it clenched around nothing. He licked up everything you gave him before standing up and ripping off his clothes, his cock bobbing as he stepped out of his pants. His chin was wet with your orgasm, and his pupils looked blown out.

“Bebita, I need you to touch yourself. Rub that gorgeous clit, please? Please, baby,” he begged, stroking and squeezing himself as you gently rubbed circles on your sensitive clit. “Such a good girl, doing just what I ask.”

His praise made something low in your stomach clench and you arched your hips up, eyes fluttering closed.

“No, bebita, look at me, please. Lemme see those eyes. Yes, yes. Can you put a finger inside?” he practically begged, hand quickening over his leaking cock.

“Yes, Frankie,” you shuddered as you exhaled, slipping one finger easily into your relaxed cunt.

“Another, baby, please?” He moaned, never taking his eyes off you, as you complied and added in a second finger. He watched you move them in and out, snaking your other hand down to rub on your clit. “I’m so close, where- where can I? Quick, tell me.”

You pulled your fingers out and spread your legs wide. “Here, Frankie, here.” The words had barely left your mouth before he was standing over you, one knee resting on the couch as he decorated your pussy with ropes of cum. You gripped his thigh and watched as he worked himself through his orgasm. He was always so pretty when he came, mouth open and dark brown eyelashes grazing against his cheeks.

Frankie bent over to where you leaned against the cushion so he could kiss you, whispering praise between each breath and lick of his tongue. “Gonna get you cleaned up,” he said finally.

You expected him to go get a washcloth from the bathroom - he always made sure it was nice and warm - but instead, he settled back between your thighs. “Frankie?” you squeaked as he started licking your inner thigh.

“I said I need to clean you up, baby. Now take off that shirt and let me see those pretty tits?” He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You would do anything he asked, and in this moment he knew it. You tossed your shirt over your head and Frankie rolled your nipple between his thumb and finger as he dove back down between your thighs.

“Good girl, always so good for me,” he hummed as he licked himself off of you. “Gonna make you come again on my tongue, then I’m gonna make you come on my cock. Gonna have you all night, bebita.”

You threw your head back as he sucked gently on your clit. “All this because I wore your shirt?” you chuckled.

Frankie was too busy to respond. But he made good on his promises that night.

And always left the shirt out for you to wear whenever you wanted.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #f!reader #plus size!reader #triple frontier #I missed frankie

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toychest321 · 1 month

Text

Ugh, I've been meaning to post about this doll for what feels like ages! Allergies have been pretty bad this week, but I've finally been able to pull myself together enough to post about Fulla's prayer dolls!

According to the Islamic blog Alhannah.com, "The purpose of a prayer outfit is twofold – to respect the sanctity of prayer by covering one’s ‘Awrah’ (parts of the body that should be covered in public) and to uphold the principles of modesty".

"A prayer outfit typically encompasses a long, loose-fitting skirt paired with a top that has a head covering (Hijab), collectively ensuring that the body remains concealed during prayer". The website also states that there are one-piece and two-piece versions of the outfit, the choice between the two often coming down to preference of the wearer (in this case, it seems Fulla prefers the latter)

Muslims pray five times per day: once in the morning before dawn (Fajr), once at midday (Dhuhr), once in the afternoon (Asr), once after sunset (Maghrib), and once in the evening (Isha).

As far as I can find, there have been three prayer dolls of Fulla released. Two are for the Fajr and Isha prayers respectively, and one is for a process connected to all five!

Fulla's first prayer doll was released in 2004 with a doll-sized prayer mat and prayer beads for yourself!

Prayer mats are used to ensure the ground is clean while praying. Prayer beads, meanwhile, are used for dhikr, a process of prayer recitation after each of the five daily prayers. The beads are typically counted for each of the 99 names of Allah recited, however with certain prayer beads consisting of 33 beads instead (such as the one included here) they are counted 3 times over. The first 33 recitations are "Subhan Allah" (Glory be to Allah), the second 33 are "Al-Ahamdulilah" (Praise be to God), and the final 33 are "Allahu Akbar" (God is greatest). After these you must pray "Laa ilaha illallah wahdahu la sharika lah lahul mulku wa lahul hamdu wa huwa ala kulli shay in qadir" (There is no god worthy of worship except Allah alone, with no partner or associate) once.

Her next prayer doll was released in 2006 for the Morning Prayer (Fajr)! While I can't definitively say the same for the prior Prayer Dress Fulla, this doll wears indoor clothes underneath her prayer outfit to start the day! She comes with a prayer mat and bag, and (it says on the box but its hard to read) a prayer booklet of the Morning Prayers! And I hadn't even known this until now for this doll or the next, but apparently there's a button on her back that makes her recite them (batteries included)!

I like how much the pink pops against the white! Although the outfit is decent, it looks a bit plain compared to her other indoor looks (although that could have been intentional). I don't have any particularly strong feelings on her fashion, but it's decent!

The same year a doll for the Night Prayers (Isha) was released as well! Underneath her prayer clothes she wears a pair of pink pajamas with gingham detailing, with matching pink slippers! It seems she also came with a prayer mat, bag, and booklet (this time for the Night Prayers) as the Morning Prayers Fulla did! And yes, she also has a button to make her pray them with you!

I love these pajamas so much, they're so cute!!! And the way they match her prayer outfit too??? Indoor-fashion-wise, I probably prefer this one over the Morning Prayer's indoor outfit.

Overall, I love how all of these dolls not only represent a significant Islamic religious practice, but encourage children to do it with her! Between the prayer beads and voice button, I can easily see this doll joining in prayer with her owner :)

And not too difficult to imagine either, since Fulla has also made officially branded prayer clothes in 2005, 2007, and as recent as 2024!

Anyway, I'm glad I was finally able to dive deep into this topic like I'd been meaning to look into for a while (now to get some sleep as it is currently 4am)

Ramadan Kareem!

#dolls #dollblr #muslim dolls #fulla dolls #fulla prayer dolls #long post

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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months

Text

Buffed Brass and Baritones - An Arthur Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

A bit of Arthur smut, besties? Yes. Why not. Inspired by a statement shared by my lovely @call-sign-shark earlier today. This is for you, babe!

(GIF credit - @edmundhoar)

Words - 1,114

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You’d never considered the Birmingham accent to be particularly sexy before, you had to admit. That was until Arthur fucking Shelby opened his mouth and let that rumbling baritone out, of course. Now, well... the man could recite something as simple as a grocery list to you and you’d probably come on the spot, such is your weakness for those deep, gritty tones.

“Are ya all finished, bab?” he asks as you meander outside of the back room door within The Garrison. “Everywhere nice and clean, is it?”

Instantly, your knees tremble. “Yes, Mr Shelby. Absolutely spotless.”

“Good.” His eyes rake over you, lips curling into a wide grin. “Then how’d ya fancy getting a bit dirty, eh?”

Did... did he really just proposition you?

“Well?” he barks, making you jump a little. “No good you standing there floundering like a bloody fish! Do you want me to fuck ya, or not?”

“I mean, yes, but...”

“Well then!” He rises from his seat, pointing in the direction of the bar. “Get your clobber off, go on!”

You know he’s loud and uncouth, but still, you’re taken by surprise, rooted to the spot, Arthur letting out a sigh as he reaches for you. “Fine, fucking fine! I’ll get your bloody clobber off!” Throwing you over his shoulder like a little rag doll, his big hand smacks hard against your bum, your squealing giggle filling the empty pub.

He seats you right at the very end of the bar, yanking you close, kissing you with all the passion and torrent of a storm, lithe body pressing to yours as his hands force your knees apart. Your shoes drop from your feet onto the floor, Arthur wasting no time in pulling your dress up.

Your eyes suddenly widen. “Shit! I’m not wearing my good knickers.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, raising an eyebrow at you as he yanks them off. “And now you’re wearing no knickers at all, bab.” Pushing your thighs apart, a rumble of desire sounds his throat as he sees your cunt splayed before him. “Blimey, ain’t you pretty.”

He dives straight in with no hesitation at burying his mouth against your folds, hungry tongue roving over you before settling to beat back and forth over your clit. Your hips rise, your mouth dropping open, staggered by the fast pace of it all. Arthur isn’t a man who entertains wasting time, though. Sex with him surely would never be any different.

He’s completely unrelenting with you, sucking on your bud greedily as he groans deep, the sound settling over your bones as the pleasure lights you up like a firework. His fingers sink into the soft of your thighs, eyes twinkling at you as he watches you enjoy it, smiling at you with a wink. “Like that, don’t ya?”

“Oh my bloody god!” you cry, you voice pinched tight. “How can anyone be so good with their tongue?”

He rumbles a chuckle. “Lots of practice, bab.” You don’t doubt that for a second. God, if he was yours, you’d never let him come up for air. He then slows, making you glimmer with long, flat licks, slowing until you begin to whine and shake.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, the tip of his tongue beating rapidly over your clit. “You’re drowning me.”

“Sorry,” you pant, feeling a little self-conscious.

He eyes you curiously, snorting a soft laugh. “Ain’t a a bad thing, love. Ain’t a bad thing at all.” He gives you a few more glimmer-evoking licks before straightening, hands moving to unhook his braces and undo his trousers. “I think you’re ready to get fucked now, beautiful.”

Pulling his cock out, he pushes straight into you… and in… and in… and…

“Jesus, Arthur!” you gasp, mouth falling open. “How bloody long is it?”

His grin is so snugly self-assured as he finally bottoms out, dragging back once more. “Long enough to make a donkey cry if I stood next to him naked.”

You laugh, and it turns into a shrill cry as he doesn’t hesitate in beginning to drive into you like a piston.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” you grit, Arthur tossing your legs over his shoulders, smiling at how much you immediately love being on the receiving end of his long, hungry cock.

“Mmm, a pretty girl with a foul mouth,” he pants, turning his head to kiss your ankle. “My favourite kind.” Giving you the kind of pounding that has your screams filling the room, your body is shunted against the bar forcefully, your mouth hanging open in exclamation. He then slows, enjoying the hot, tight clutch of your cunt, his eyes falling to watch how his cock sparkles in the dim light, glazed in the velvet wet of you.

You can barely belive you’re doing it. You’re actually having sex with your boss, the man you’ve dreamed of for months. He is the sexual splendour you’ve always fantasised about, stroking your walls so deftly, so deeply, the power behind him barely contained. He leans to you, tugging your dress and bra down, his mouth raining kisses across your flushed chest, tongue seeking your nipples, circling slowly, slowly.

Adding a little more speed to each teasing thrust, he begins to stoke the bonfire of your pleasure, your flames crackling, feeling unmoored entirely. Your slippery walls flex around him in appreciation of his assailing, igniting you with the delicious depth of each thrust as you sheathe him, crying out, his hands bracketing your waist.

Something within him breaks at hearing your shrill wails, and once again he begins to pound into you with unmatched ferocity, giving you all that you craved, his self-control abandoned, his graveled groans intoxicating to your ears.

“Look how good you take it. Mmmm, yeah. What a fucking good girl.”

Everything is wild, fervid, uncontained and magmatic, both of you spiralling headlong into the kind of release that has your moans and groans filling the air along with the sound of your skin smacking together. It capsizes you, an undoing of all-consuming magnitude charging through you, the god-given talent of his fuck rendering you a shaking, panting mess beneath him.

“Bloody hell,” he pants, forehead rested between your breasts, placing a kiss on your sternum. “Dunno what else to say other than bloody hell!”

“You could say anything, Arthur, and it would leave me knock-kneed,” you gasp, reaching to stroke his hair.

“What,” he begins, turning his head to kiss your inner wrist, “even more knock-kneed than fucking you so hard atop the bar, your arse has probably buffed the brass?”

You pull a thoughtful face as he begins to laugh. “Maybe not that much.”

#arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fic #peaky fucking blinders

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flwrshee · 7 months

Text

✉️ LOVE NOTES

duo ﹒ jake x fmr genre fluff , classmates to lovers , high school au wc 1,4k warnings two pecks and use of nicknames

you didn't know when or how or how you fell in love with jake but you did. maybe it was when you noticed how he would lift his glasses on the brim of his nose when he concentrated on a hard maths problem, maybe it was when you saw him feed a stray dog outside of school or maybe it was when he helped you in physics and gave you a sweet for doing well.

every since you had come forth with your feelings for him, you would wait for a new school day. just seeing him walk through the same hallway as you or revise his notes in the same class as you, he brought a smile to your face that you never had before. your monotonous days became just a little bit more exciting with him to look at.

your days that were filled with joy were something you wanted to reciprocate to jake, so you left notes in his locker. your friends had told you multiple times that everything would go wrong if jake had found out the real owner of these notes — three months without getting caught proved to them and yourself that nothing would happen.

however, today was a day that you had been anticipating for a long time, it was the day that you would finally reveal yourself. you were the one behind all the love written pieces of paper, you were the one behind the daily chocolates and you were the one behind the physics puns that you stayed up all night thinking of.

looking outside of the bus, you see the cherry blossoms on the trees slowing falling to the ground — autumn had finally come. you could smell the faint rain from the night before and the breeze lightly graze your hand. today was perfect.

making your way into the school grounds, you go to your spot that you always stand opposite of, his locker. the plan was to put a note in which had your name on it so jake would know it was you. however, who knew that there would be a sudden change of plan?

about to place it inside, you hear a sudden whistling sound way to familiar to your ears — it was jake's.

you were screwed.

shutting the door of his locker and trying to make the run for it, you hear a voice call out your name, "kim yn? come back yn!"

turning around slowing, you come face to face with jake and his friend sunghoon. both in their football kits you assume they have morning practice, they still look so good. jake's hair is slightly ruffled in some places and his bareface makes him even more angelic at nine in the morning.

"yn? are you there?"

a hand waves in front of your face and you recognise it as jake's, you were day dreaming this entire time? oh god, you have never wanted to kill yourself so bad.

"um, yes i'm here i was ju—"

"what did you put in my locker, pretty girl?"

before you could answer his question, jake's eyes had already gone to his locker and picked out the note you had put it. this was going to ruin the whole plan, everything you had wanted to do was going to fail.

"another note? how cute." he says under his breath while a slight chuckle leaves his lips.

did jake just call you cute? well he didn't know it was you but his words still had an affect on you, you could feel your heart beating in your chest, very immensely.

"i hope you have a good morning jake, make sure you keep smiling because you remind me of an angel when you do! good luck with your practise and make sure to drink enough water, we can't let our captain pass out :( but most of all, i really like you jake / dear yn." he recites the whole note that you spent the whole of yesterday night thinking of — you barely had any rest after that.

how humiliating. this was the second time you wanted to kill yourself so bad.

when he finishes saying it out loud his face, painted with a smirk, turns towards you. you were expecting him to be ashamed, perplexed, flabbergasted but teasing you with his smirk? you did not expect this at all, you almost believed it was a plot twist in some type of action crime movie.

"so.." he takes a pause before shifting his face closer to yours, you could see your reflection in his marble-like eyes. you were intoxicated by his stare and the way his lips moved when he talked didn't help your fantasies at all.

"pretty girl yn has been giving me all these notes?" his words are laced with a teasing voice and a glint of seductiveness — his words and voice were about to become the death of you, funny how he didn't realise the grip he had on you.

putting your head down in embarrassment, you neither respond to his question nor make eye contact with you.

but to your surprise, your chin is on the tip of his fingers and all your attention is on him, but you can only focus on is the way his pupils stare at your face, examining every small detail he can find, the way he tries to look at your lips not so obviously and the way his eyelashes would flutter every couple of seconds. jake was a dream, right in front of you. no scrap that, he looked even better than he did your dreams.

"not going to answer me, huh?" the distance between your faces decreased enormously and you could feel his breath fanning your face. the more you didn't answer him, the closer he got. at this point, if you moved your face just the tiniest bit your lips would be on his. your noses were already touching and you could both see yourselves through each other's eyes.

"fine! i did, but i did not expect to catch me red-handed like this."

he moves his face away from yours, making you sigh in relief, and straightens his back. looking at you, he chuckles for the nth time today, adding more nervousness to your poor heart. he says an inaudible phrase that you can't really hear before making eye contact with you.

"did you know yn? you have always been pretty that's why i call you pretty girl, but today you look even more prettier than usual."

what on earth did your two ears just hear? sim jaeyun complimenting you was the last thing you had expected to happen today, you could now say that you were officially dead. without yourself knowing, your face had already flushed into the same colour of a strawberry and jake was looking directly at you with the most prince-like smile that you never knew existed. but all of a sudden, your trance gets cut off when you feel something soft touch your lips.

jake just pecked you. the sim jaeyun just put his lips on yours.

you didn't know whether to feel flabbergasted and over the moon because as you look up, all you see is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on with the most innocent yet smug smile that you wanted to kiss right off. he was not allowed to be this fine you thought — in your mind it was illegal.

"was that what i think it was?"

"do you want me to show you again pretty girl?"

flustered and taken aback, your back hits the wall behind you as jake leaves a dangerously small distance between the two of you, one of his hands hovering behind your waist. you still hadn't got over the peck he had given you and he was already putting his face up yours. before you could say anything he cuts you off by telling you,

"meet me at the garden at lunchtime pretty girl and i really like you too."

he doesn't forget to peck your plump, lip gloss coated lips one more time before leaving to practice while whistling. everything that happened to you in the past few minutes felt like a fever dream — this can't be true right.

but by the time you were debating whether or not everything was true, you had realised that jake liked you back, you had achieved the number one goal on your list of silly things you wanted. whether it was a dream or not, all you know and care about is the fact that jake is now yours.

taglist! @goldenhypen @sjyuns @okwonyo

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Chapter II: Before It Sinks In

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: After the Sully kids get attacked by the newly found Recombinant Soldiers, Jake makes the tough decision to leave the Omatikaya. Neteyam is forced to say goodbye to you, to your relationship and to the life he always dreamed about.

A/N: So I decided to split what was originally supposed to be one chapter into two, and this way I get to make good use of the amazing song that @karma-is-a-cat-purringinmylap was amazing enough to turn me on to, that just happened to work like a glove (the first non TS song in my works!!!)! I think I will try sticking to shorter chapters, as I feel 10k chapter might be a a bit overwhelming overall. Now, did this chapter make me cry several times? Yes. Will it make you cry? I'm hoping you will tell me soon ;)

enjoy besties ily xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to Before It Sinks In here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

Suspended in the air, I hear myself breathing

Hanging by a thread, my heart is barely beating

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Neteyam watched as you ran towards the lake that he wanted so badly to show you, he was practically buzzing by the time he got to Hell’s Gate. He found this little spot accidentally a few days ago while on a hunt, and it’s been on his mind ever since, exuberant at the thought of you in it, at the thought of your face splitting in a wide smile and your eyes widening taking it all in. He thought of the little squeal you would make as you saw the waterfall and way you’d jump off his back immediately and make your way without thinking of your clothes, or the mask, or anything else. The scene unfolding in front of him was exactly the way he pictured it, a testament to how long you’ve been in each other’s lives, how well he knew every facet of your being, like you were just an extension of his own self, like you were a complicated poem he’s dedicated his whole life deciphering and could now recite by heart, could now dissect it and appreciate it endlessly, to its full potential.

You didn’t look back as you just hurriedly made your way to the edge of the water, taking off pieces of clothing as you did, until you were in a lace thong and bra, that Neteyam has seen multiple times before. He could see it every day, every minute of the day, it could be tattooed on his eyeballs and it would still not stop the way his mouth instantly filled with saliva and his head felt dizzy from all the blood travelling downwards. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on. Actually, beautiful did nothing to describe you. Beautiful had nothing on you. Neteyam wished he was more articulate at times like this, he wishes he would have read all the hundreds of books residing in the big library in Hell’s Gate where you loved to spend your time, in order to find the proper word to describe you. In order to validate his postulation that there was, in fact, not a single word in all of the English language, or Na’vi, for that matter, to encapsulate what you meant to him, how he viewed you.

A splashing noise is all he heard as you jumped quietly in the water, and he followed suit, a little concerned when you wouldn’t resurface, until it dawned on him you could breathe underwater with the mask on. When you did resurface, you were standing right underneath the waterfall, the biggest smile in the world plastered on your face, and Neteyam couldn’t help his own that blossomed like how the flowers in the morning bloom did, like how his love for you did.

Neteyam couldn’t remember his life before this. Before tangled bodies and insurmountable pleasures. He couldn’t remember who he had been, what used to occupy his mind and thoughts, what feelings, middling and insignificant, used to plague him before your being took over everything, over every second of every day, over every dream and nightmare, over the past, present and future. Neteyam knew he fucked up. Knew that he lied to you that day, when he told you he wouldn’t fall in love with you. Because he did, he fell like from a distance so far removed he could no longer see the ground. And yet, Neteyam knew the ground was there, and that gravity was pushing him towards it, and that whilst the fall was freeing and exhilarating now, while now it felt like flying, once it ended, it would crush all his bones, and his spirit, and his soul.

“This might be the best thing you’ve ever shown me!” You were screaming loudly, trying to be heard above the booming noise of the waterfall crashing down in deafening roars, and he laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed, how wild and free. You’ve always been like that, Neteyam mused. You kept to yourself in the labs, and in the village, around the scientists and other people, around his mother and the clan - but when you were around people you loved, people you were comfortable with, you were uninhibited and unconfined to expectations, and fears and limitations, at liberty to be yourself, to shine brighter than any star in the sky.

“What are you doing over there, Teyam? You know I don’t like to be kept waiting!”

He shook his head, but said nothing as he removed his cummerbund and knife belt and dove in the warm water, swimming until he reached you. As soon as he did, your arms and legs encircled him like they always tended to, automatically and without thought.

You looked in his eyes, and the glimmer in it made Neteyam’s mind freeze and go blank, made his heart thump in his chest and sweat pool on his skin, that was promptly washed away by the undulating water.

“I want to kiss you.” Neteyam couldn’t help the words coming out of his mouth, a confession and a plea all in one, a futile one in the face of untouchable facts, such as the fact being without your mask will kill you.

You smiled and placed a soft hand on his face, tracing his lips gently, and he shuddered under the touch. “I want to kiss you, too.”

“Thank you, Teyam. This is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it, ma Vol. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to bring you here. It was the only thing on my mind, the thought of you and m-“ Neteyam realised his mouth was running faster than his mind could keep up, a rare occurrence in his life, but fairly common in your presence.

Your eyes were wide and full of surprise, and fear started creeping on your face, unannounced and unwelcome, although not completely unexpected. He shouldn’t have said that. Every time things got a little too… intimate between the two of you, any time either of you pushed the boundaries that you both established, boundaries that you needed to abide by above all, it took a while to fall back into step, to get things back to normal, to mutually forget and pretend it never happened. He didn’t want that to happen again. Things were going great for you two, and he didn’t want to lose any time with you, any time he could be loving you instead, any time he could be making you writhe underneath him, any time at all.

“I - I just meant… you know… I -“

Your slender fingers found his lips again and at the small pressure you put on them, he stopped talking. Your eyes softened and your surprised expression melted into one of muted happiness, of unspoken affection, of forbidden feelings.

“I know.”

You spent hours swimming and giggling, splashing water at each other, enjoying how, when both submerged, the difference between you didn’t seem that extreme, the discrepancy in your bodies and your heights nothing that couldn’t be promptly overcome. You talked until your lungs were running out of breath and your voices hoarse, just catching up and discussing everything that’s been going on since you hadn’t seen each other.

Right behind a waterfall stood a layered rock formation, which happened to allow for perfect positioning so that, when sat on it, your and Neteyam’s faces were at the same level. You smirked as you slipped your finger in the band of his loincloth and tugged at it until he took the hint and got closer to you. He didn’t have time to protest you taking off your mask recklessly and smashing your lips against his, a kiss so passionate and deep, it pushed any rational thought out of his mind and replaced it with desire and a tingling ache, one that he knew too well, one that seemed ever-present around you.

“Vol..” he tried to speak against your lips, but you just shook your head and deepened the kiss, pushing your tongue past his lips until it met his, entangling in a suave dance until you were panting and heaving against him. He tsked annoyed at your foolhardiness, and watched patiently while you fastened to mask on yourself again and took deep, settling breaths.

“You take my breath away… get it?” You laughed and then laughed some more at how unamused he was. “Come on, it’s funny.”

“You putting your life in danger foolishly is not funny to me.”

You smirked and shrugged indifferently. “Well, not everyone gets my sophisticated sense of humour.”

“God, I hate this mask.”

Neteyam knew how much you hated it. He hated it, too. He’d give anything to be able to kiss you freely, to caress your face, to feel your lips and your soft skin, to see your eyes reflecting the colours of the nature surrounding you instead of a piece of glass doing it instead. Fortunately, Neteyam always knew how to cheer you up.

“Vol…” he started, voice so low and soft it was almost purring. His long fingers traced your beautiful body, and each freckle adorning it, until he reached your panties, that he skilfully pulled down your thighs, until you were hanging on to them by an ankle. “Just because you can’t kiss my lips, doesn’t mean I can’t kiss yours.”

Neteyam watched as your upper body leaned backwards until your back hit the rock wall, pushing your head back and closing your eyes in anticipation. Your hand found its way to his hair, that you grasped tightly and pushed him down, and he laughed at your already needy and disheveled demeanour. “You know, Teyam? You’re definitely the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for.”

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

I haven't fallen yet, but I feel it comin'

Tell me would it be too much to ask, if you break it to me gently

“What?” Neteyam could hardly believe his ears, could hardly believe that the words coming out of his dad’s mouth were his current reality, and not a nightmare his mind concocted to make him ill, to keep him awake until his eyes started burning in his skull.

“We are leaving. Tomorrow.”

Neteyam watched in pain as Tuk cried silently and immediately felt the pang of fraternal instincts kick in, urging him to pick her up and hold her close in his arms, let her cry it out in the crook of his neck.

“But why, daddy? I don’t want to leave.”

His dad’s stiff posture melted at his daughter’s words, that he could never resist. His eyes softened and he sighed, taking his mother’s hand in his.

“Because we are in danger, baby girl. We now know the humans brought Avatars with them, that they brought the best soldiers back to life to hunt and kill me. And they will stop at nothing to do it, including hurting you.”

The only thought spiralling violently in Neteyam’s mind, as usual, was you. His heart was pounding aggressively in his chest, the increased heart rate making his ears hurt and his head dizzy. What did this mean? How would leave? Just the family? What about you and Spider? You were family to him, and to the rest of the Sullys. Maybe not to his mother, but even she would never want anything bad to happen to you. If you did come, would you make it in another clan? Would they ever accept two humans as one of their own? The Omatikaya barely did, and you have been part of their lives for 19 years. What if you didn’t come? He couldn’t leave you. He couldn’t lose you. What was he supposed to do?

No. No, he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave you, he promised you, he promised himself. No matter what would ever happen in this life or the next, Neteyam knew you were the only constant he cared about, the only person he wanted to take with him and keep for the rest of time. He would tell his father no. For the first time in his life, Neteyam would tell his father no.

“Kids, I can’t risk putting you in danger. I can’t risk putting the Omatikaya in danger once more, leading them to war. I have too much to lose.” His eyes flickered to his mother, that was sobbing silently by his side, but tried to keep it together for her family and be brave, have a strong heart.

“We have too much to lose. If we go, we can keep them safe. The clan…” His father looked intently at his kids, eyes focused on Kiri and Neteyam. “…The humans.”

The humans…

Leaving would protect the humans. Leaving would protect you.

I'm waking the next day, without you beside me

And who I hold on to today, tomorrow will just be a memory

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You and Neteyam’s friendship had a lot of boundaries, for good measure. It was necessary when you were doing things normally reserved for couples, or mates, when you were doing things to each other that no one else would approve of, or understand. One of the rules of the game was that you wouldn’t sleep together. You used to, when you were younger, but that was when your relationship was platonic, back when things were… normal. Now, you thought sleeping together and cuddling would be too intimate, too inappropriate, and it would lead to feelings, feelings you were trying to avoid, feelings which might get in the way of the harmless fun you were having, feelings which might make everything… complicated. It was all just fun. Just fun.

That being said, as it turns out, you were both really bad at following your own self-imposed rules, and so it didn’t take too long for you to break them all.

Deep, satisfied pants were all that could be heard in the big recreation centre that Neteyam knew by heart by now. It was dark, his freckles the only light that reflected in your eyes, the only light you needed.

“Well, we’re definitely getting better at that.” you said with a small chuckle. That might have been the understatement of the century, but you didn’t want to scare him by telling him that if it was up to you, you’d have him tied in this room with a chain only loose enough so that he could do this 24/7, but just tight enough so he’d never leave.

You were laying with your head on his chest, as you always seemed to after a long and exhausting session. You loved the feel of his smooth, muscular body, that, despite your size difference, was somehow the most comfortable pillow you’ve ever slept on.

“I’m exhausted. I feel like you and Lo’ak forget sometimes that me and Spider aren’t Na’vi, and yet you work us like we are.”

“Stop complaining, Vol. I need you to be strong and agile, ok? I need to know you’re safe and that you can take care of yourself despite this tiny frail body you possess.”

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed annoyedly, mumbling mostly to yourself.

“Didn’t see you complain about my ‘tiny, frail body’ 20 minutes ago when you were fu-“

“Stop, Vol. You know what I mean. The humans are going to be back at some point, we both know that. And you spend too much time in this place, with your experiments and your books and your shows. I know you don’t like being in the village, and I know that my mother and the villagers give you a hard time sometimes, but at least when we go tracking, or hunting, or practicing, I want you there. I need to know you’re safe, ok?”

He stopped talking, and he sighed deeply, tightening his grip on your body. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, laced with intense emotion.

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

You nuzzled your face in his chest and mirrored his grip on you, smiling softly at his concern and his words, that ran shivers down your spine and fluttered butterfly wings in your stomach.

“The worst thing that could ever happen to me is losing you, Teyam. Everything else, I will handle like the big girl I am.”

He kissed the top of your head, and you stood like that for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence. The thought of this moment ending hurt you deeply, so much so, you couldn’t fathom it. So you decided not to.

“Don’t go. You’re comfortable and I’m cold, and my room seems uninviting by comparison.”

He chuckled imperceptibly. “You love your room, ma Vol. You’ve written songs about how much you love your bed.”

“I love you, more.”

He sighed once more, but pulled you closer and settled down for the night. “I love you most.”

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

I would look back at all of this and wonder why I stayed in here

Just to watch you disappear

When Neteyam reached your room in the lab complex, his heart was in his throat and his knees were wobbly, and he was almost reminiscent of his Uniltaron and how the worm made him feel, like he wasn’t there anymore, not fully. Like he could see his body from outside itself, like his was mind watching everything unfold from a safe distance. His movements felt robotic and untethered, no thought outside of how was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to leave you? How was he supposed to tell you that it’s over, that maybe you won’t lose him to another woman but you still will lose him nonetheless. Neteyam was trying to think which one was better. In a sea of two impossible choices, two unhappy endings, two roads reaching the same endpoint, which one was the lesser evil? And was there ever a third path? Was it ever possible, for you and him… a happy ending?

He used to think so, used to hope so. Used to love the daydreams and nights picturing it, so clear and vivid in his mind, it was like it was all unfolding in front of his eyes. You, tall and blue, laughing like you always did, taking your Iknimaya. The two of you, riding from dusk til dawn, discovering secret coves and falling asleep on green moss, where he would be able to kiss you freely, where he would be able to link to your thoughts and feelings and know that this was it, his most formidable desire come alive. His family, your family, carefree and happy, full of kids' laughter and formidable first steps, full of joy and love, full of him and you. That's all he's ever wanted. A family with the woman he loved. Not the woman he was promised to, not whichever new one they'd have to find for him in the Metkayina, the woman he loved. The only one.

But now, as he was standing in this room, that he may never see again, listening to the shower that he knew you were currently in, the dream feels further away than it ever has, further each minute, until it was slowly fading from view, so dim and dwindling, until it was gone from his life, gone from his mind, forever. Until only hurt existed, only the gaping hole left behind by your absence, by all the shattered dreams and the shards of broken hearts, his own and the one he knew he'd break tonight.

The anxiety that burned every part of his body also made his tail jerk violently in every direction, and he was pulled out of his nightmare by the sound of trinkets getting thrown on the ground.

“Shit.”

Neteyam thought he’d have more time. Hoped that he could gather himself and his thoughts, hoped he would formulate a plan in the few minutes you would still be in the shower. He knew you would have heard it, so he knew he didn’t have that luxury anymore. He still didn’t know how he could ever make the words come out. How he could ever go through with this.

As he kneeled on the floor to collect the broken vase that was now a fitting image of his soul, he heard the door to the bathroom open, but his eyes remained fixated on the task at hand, unable to look in your eyes, whose memory, whose incandescent beauty would haunt Neteyam for life. He tried to speak past the overbearing lump in his throat.

"Sorry. I wish I could control my tail better, but it's always an accident waiting to happen in these tight rooms."

The silence that befell the room was stifling and suffocating, and Neteyam felt the gaping hole enlarge, felt it taking over his entire chest, seeping into every ounce of his body, spreading like wildfire.

When you did speak, Neteyam almost wished you didn't. Because your voice did nothing to improve his condition, but worked as a perfect catalyst for further breakage, further pain. It was sad, and muted. It was disappointed. It was everything he never wanted your voice to be like when directed at him.

"Why are you here, Neteyam?"

"What do you mean why I am here? I can't be here?"

Neteyam spoke without thinking. He felt adrenaline taking over him, his body knowing he wouldn't be able to do this without the emboldenment given to him in this moment.

"You can, you just never are anymore."

“Vol… come on. You know it’s different now than it was in the village, in Hell’s gate. We’re going to get caught.”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t want to get caught. God forbid anybody knows you fuck me in your free time.”

“Vol…”

Neteyam didn't understand why he was fighting you about something so trivial. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. None of this mattered, and yet, Neteyam felt compelled to speak his truth. No matter what form it came in.

“I know you’re upset about today. I’m sorry.”

“Why would I be upset about today? You did what you had to do. I mean, she’s going to be your mate soon, right? It’s her hands that should be healing you anyway, not mine. Those are going to scar, by the way.”

Neteyam hated to admit it, because he fancied himself a good person, a person who is respectful and caring and conscientious, but he couldn't have cared less about her if he tried. In fact, his engagement being broken might be the only silver lining in the sea of black dread. He only cared about you. In fact, the distance, and the tension, and the silence and the pain, it was too much. He needed to feel you. If this was his last day with you, he'd be damned if he spent it not feeling your body, and your warmth, not looking in your eyes.

You were so easy to manoeuvre on the bed, it would have been laughable under any other circumstances. Not tonight. When he got on top of you, and felt your bare thighs touching his, and your hand wrapped around his arm, and your eyes boring into his, he felt so much love it was overwhelming him, so sure, for the first time in his life, of that you were the only one he'd ever love, that he was irrevocably in love with you for the rest of time. So regretful of the time he could have spent loving you, and telling you, of the time he spent hiding, only to never get the chance of confessing, never get the chance to follow through on his promises.

“Stop. I know you are upset. I wish it could have been you. You know me, Vol. You know I wish it could have been you.”

Your subtle head shaking made felt sharp bursts of pain shoot through him, like his queue was connected to an electrical socket.

“You should go, Neteyam. This isn’t right. You’re engaged to someone else. I watched her today, watched how worried she was about you, how desperate to help you, to take you away so it’s just the two of you. You’re going to mate with this girl any day now. There’s no room for me in your life anymore. Not like this, anyway.”

He sighed and got off from on top of you, no matter how loudly his mind was screaming otherwise. He wouldn't do anything you weren't comfortable with.

“The engagement is broken.”

He wanted to stop. He could just stop and not say anything else. He could just end it there, and watch as your eyes widened in shock, then settled on a happy, relieved disposition that he saw so vividly in his mind's eye, it was almost as if was happening. He could just not go. He could stay, and love you, and make love to you, and keep you. It would be so easy. Nothing's ever been as easy as falling in love with you.

Leaving would protect the humans. Leaving would protect you.

“Because I’m leaving. I’m leaving the Omatikaya, and so is my family.”

Far beyond my reach is the future you promised

Now what I never even had, I have every reason to miss

"What did you just say?"

You heard him wrong. You must have heard him wrong. You wiped his tears off your face and sat up, feet dangling off the bed.

"Vol..."

"What did you say, Neteyam?"

You felt anger pick at you like you liked picking at your nails when anxiety took the better of you, and it hurt, and it burned, but anger was better than sadness, so you let it burn until you were ashes on the ground.

"My dad said we have to leave for the Metkayina clan. They're looking for him, trying to kill him. If we go, the clan will be safe. You will be safe."

"Are you kidding me right now? Please tell me it's one of those jokes like the ones Spider and Lo'ak love making that I don't get, but they find hilarious, for some reason. Please, Neteyam. Please."

You were begging, you realised. Outside of the intimacy of your bedroom and the cover of darkness, you never begged. You have never begged anyone for anything in your life. And there you were. Pathetic and weak. Begging a guy, the guy, to spare whatever was left of your heart with just a few words. All it took was a few words.

Neteyam wiped tears off his face and stood arrested in your room, arms limp by his side, like he couldn't move. Like you couldn't move.

"I'm not kidding, Vol. Trust me, I want nothing more than to be kidding. I want nothing more than for this to be a stupid, childish joke. But it's not. We are leaving tomorrow."

You were too stunned to speak, so you opted for the only other reaction your body seemed to be able to produce: laughter. You laughed. Loudly and obsessively, louder than you should have, louder than you ever have. It was so ridiculous, so ludicrous, it felt like the only appropriate reaction.

"This can't be real. This can't be happening."

Neteyam knelt by your side on the bed, and took your shoulders in his hands, urging you to look in his forlorn eyes, red and puffy, just like yours were.

“Vol, don’t you understand?! This is going to protect you. This way you get to be safe. I need to know that you are fucking safe, and if that means I go, then I go.”

There it was again, the anger picking at your brain until it buried everything else, until it was the only thing.

“Oh, that is such bullshit! Stop acting like you would choose to stay regardless of your family’s choice, even if it kept me safe. You have never been able to choose for yourself, never done anything outside of what Jake ever said, what Neytiri said, what Mo’at said, no matter how bad a choice, no matter how much you didn’t want it. I’m supposed to believe that it would be different now why?"

“It would, Vol, because it’s you!” he shook you gently as he said that, eyes so intense, so serious - so truthful.

"So stay. Just fucking stay. Please."

“Even if I stay, I still have to mate with her, don’t you understand?”

You knew that he was right. There was no win for you. For either of you. This life was cruel, and it gave with one hand and took with both, always leaving you with less than what you started. You weren’t one to question the meaning of life or the fairness of the universe, but now, taking in the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who you knew loved you, you wondered what was the point of it all? Why were you here? Was there really that much cruelty reserved just for you? Were you how humanity was paying for its horrible missteps on Pandora? Were you an experiment, a toy put on here just as a Voodoo doll for Eywa, and every time she pricked another needle in you, it would reflect back on Earth and on of the people banished back to it? It felt like that sometimes, and it definitively felt like that tonight.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you."

It suddenly felt much like you exchanged moods in between you, his despondent, wretched one passed on to you and replaced with your anger, strong and unwieldy.

“God fucking damn it, Vol! Do you think I want any of this, do you think this is my choice, that this would ever be my choice?! I'm trying to protect you! I'm trying to make sure you are safe, that the clan is safe! What the hell do you want from me?!”

He was angry and desperate, tears obvious in his eyes, as was the flush in his cheeks. Your eyes were leaking endless streams that you couldn’t push back, that you couldn’t remove from your cheeks in time before they were replenished, like they were begging to be seen and acknowledged, like the pain wouldn’t be denied - it wanted to be felt, and it didn’t care who it had to go through to do it.

You felt emptiness envelop you like a shroud at the situation that settled in and had time to stew in your mind with each passing moment. It was over. All over. The dreaded ending, the wreck it would leave behind, it was greeting you like a warm friend, announcing its arrival.

I'll just shut my eyes, forget that you were mine

How do you go from making one your home

And then just letting it all go

Your voice was numb and flat, quiet undulations with no emotion to give them any fluidity or any life. Your words were just a means to an end.

“Nothing, Neteyam. I don’t want anything from you anymore.”

You turned your back to him, unable to look at his skin on which traces of you still lingered, at his eyes in which you always saw the window to his soul, and your soul, the meaning of life and your future happiness encapsulated, his lips that traveled your body like a curious wanderer, finding Valhala in between your thighs, his hands which held your face and touched your hair, which pushed you closer to him or on him. A glance at any of these things and you would crumble, and you would shatter in a million pieces that no one knew well enough to put back together apart from him. You were a puzzle only he knew how to solve, and in his absence, you were all alone, and broken, left to mend your own cracks, knowing full well you’ll never be able to be put yourself back together quite the same way you were before.

“Vol… please.”

“Leave, Neteyam. Just go. Just fucking go.”

Stay. Please. I love you. I’m so in love with you. Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to lose you. Please. Please. Please.

The sound of the door sliding closed behind Neteyam was the last thing you heard before he was out of your life, leaving everything you had behind.

So I breathe and let you go

How do I breathe and let you go?

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @netemoon @fanboyluvr @bananafruityawne @liluvtojineteyam @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @netemoon

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

The Hanging Tree

Find my CoD masterlist

You've known Johnny for years, and for a long time you thought all the codes and prep you two went through was just to assuage his paranoia. Until he sends you a code and you have to get out fast.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Warnings: Graphic violence, mild panic attack, minor character death, blood, gunshots, threats of violence, threats of death, spy shit, angst, whump, feral Soap.

Word count: 5.1k

In all the years you'd known Johnny, you had gotten to know how he worked quite well. He was occasionally prone to over exaggerating, and sometimes was dramatic. But he had never been flippant about your safety. Never.

Which was why, when you got a text from him that said simply "hanging tree", you stopped breathing.

And then you bolted for your room.

For all his planning and paranoia, Johnny had never actually used any of your safety codes until now.

You stuffed some clothes and necessities in a bag, grabbing the bundle of cash you kept hidden. For Johnny to have used this sign was… bad. Bad enough that you knew you couldn't use any of your credit cards or anything.

Briefly, you cursed yourself for not taking him up on his offer of packing you a bug-out bag.

But you were still out the door in under twenty minutes, locking up behind you and starting to walk.

You and Johnny had gone over the route before, multiple times. A few times on foot, more often only verbally, until you could recite the way unaided.

You treated your memory now, reciting the directions to keep yourself calm as you left your home behind. For all you knew, you would never see it again.

A deep breath helped to calm you, a bit, and you took the first turn.

It wasn't late, fortunately, so you passed people as you walked. You smiled and nodded to those you knew, but didn't linger. It was best to move quick, but not so fast as to attract attention. You could practically hear Johnny reminding you of that.

You paid for a ticket in cash to your first stop, three towns over. From there, you'd go west a ways, then back north a bit. It was a roundabout route, but necessary.

Just in case anyone was trying to follow you.

The sun had set by the time you got onto the second bus, your breath fogging up the window ever so slightly as you leaned your temple against the cool glass. You almost felt like crying, or asking him if he was sure, or anything.

But his instructions had been very clear.

"If you ever get this signal from me, you leave. Immediately. Don't linger. You remember the route?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Of course I remember, Johnny. Do we need to go over it again?"

He'd laughed quietly, pressing an almost apologetic kiss to your forehead. "Nah, sorry, hen. I know you know. I just–"

"Fuss. You just fuss." But your smile was unmistakably fond as you gazed at him.

"Dinnae fuss," he grumbled. "Anyway. You get that signal, don't contact me. Right? This is important."

"Get out as fast as possible, follow the route, watch my six, don't contact you," you reiterated, almost flippant. Almost. "I know, Johnny. Is there… is there a reason you're doing this now?"

"No," he assured you. "No, just makin' sure, I promise you."

You had smiled then and let him distract you with kisses.

You breathed out hard, blinking back tears. No. You didn't have time for that. Safety first, then crying. Maybe.

The transition to the third bus was a long one - the busses didn't run as frequently this late. So you got to sit in the terminal and wait, backpack on your lap, playing on your phone (on airplane mode) to keep yourself busy.

Fortunately, from the looks you chanced around, you didn't recognize anyone. It didn't look like you'd been followed. That was something of a relief.

Finally, you boarded the last bus. Setting your backpack down on the floor in front of you, you stared down at your phone. The urge to text Johnny, to call him, to ask if he was alright and demand to know what was going on, was… it was hard. Your next inhale was a little shaky and you swallowed hard.

And stuffed your phone back in your pocket.

Johnny had been very clear, and the instructions were for your safety as well as his.

You couldn't contact him. You just had to get to safety and wait.

The last bus stopped, and you got off. It was the middle of the night now. The sky was clear and cold, stars twinkling down at you, the moon bright. You started walking, shivering a little, keeping a close eye on everything around you.

But nobody else got off the bus, and nobody followed you.

From here, it was a long walk to the cabin. Johnny insisted on that, said that a secluded place would be safer. In case he needed to patch himself up without nosey neighbors calling him in, or he needed to lay low.

The end result was that you were walking for a lot longer than you really wanted to. The chill wore off after a while, at least.

Nearly-numb fingers fumbled the cabin key out of your backpack, and you unlocked the door, flipping the lights on. The cabin was cozy, not large but well furnished, and always stocked with non-perishables. The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you locked it.

There was only one bedroom, and you claimed it as yours. Since Johnny had sent you all the way out here, he could take the couch if he got in while you were sleeping. You left your backpack next to the bed, stripped down enough to be comfortable, and collapsed.

The room was bright when you woke, and you groaned. For a moment you thought about pulling the pillow over your head and going back to sleep, but no. You needed to get up.

Groaning again, you dressed in clean clothes from your backpack and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. No sign of Johnny yet. No anybody at all, actually.

Sighing, you went through your options for breakfast, and settled on a protein bar. Not exciting, but it would do. At least he had tea here.

The day passed achingly slowly. Johnny had left plenty of books and board games in the cabin, even a TV and DVD player. But nothing held your attention for long, not with the low-level anxiety as your constant companion. You barely even felt hungry, picking through the available food with a choosiness entirely unlike you.

Not even a hot shower helped to quell the anxiety. Every minute without an update felt like an eternity stuck in purgatory.

The second day dragged just as slowly as the first. You left the TV on all day, playing movies without paying attention to them, just for the background noise. Just to have something outside your own head.

Because the possibilities running non-stop through your mind were terrifying, now.

You forced yourself to eat and keep hydrated. You cleaned. (You'd helped choose the cleaning products, you remembered a playful argument with Johnny over rags of all things, remembered whapping him in the chest with your chosen towel, remembered shrieking laughter as he chased you outside and tackled you down into the grass–)

One book caught your eye. One you'd thought you had lost years ago. Johnny had sworn up and down that he had no idea where it was.

Fucking liar. Your laugh cracked into a sob, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, suddenly terrified of making too much noise. But the tears didn't stop for a long time.

The third day felt a little… listless. Surely Johnny should have come by now, or sent one of his friends? Surely it wouldn't be so bad to turn your phone back on and check for any messages?

A knock on the door a couple hours before sunset startled you so badly you knocked over your water. You swore softly, gaze darting to the door.

Someone called your name from the other side of the door. Not Johnny. Someone with an English accent, smoother than you would have guessed of one of his teammates.

"Soap sent me," he called through the door. "I'm going to take you to him."

You dropped a towel silently on the spilled water, aching to open the door. But you didn't know any of his teammates, not really, and you couldn't confirm one way or the other. You needed something more.

"Ah, he said he'd get you ice cream?" The man sounded confused now, but still pleasant.

And you relaxed. That was the all clear. You practically bounded to the front door, yanking it open.

"Finally," you breathed, looking him over. Dark, nondescript clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. "Is he here?"

"Close," he answered, a little evasively. "I'm taking you to him."

"Let me just grab my–"

"Leave it."

You jerked a little, startled at his tone. He smiled apologetically.

"You'll be back here soon. Might as well leave it. We need to go now."

You hesitated. Something didn't feel right. But you'd been anxious for days - maybe that was still throwing you off? Or the lack of good sleep? He'd given you the all clear, it should be fine…

"Okay," you agreed softly, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on. The cabin door closed behind you and you started towards the car parked in front. Black sedan, tinted windows. "How far are we going?"

"Oh, not far at all." Something jabbed into your neck and you shrieked, trying to tear away. But he anticipated that, one arm winding tight around you as the needle left your skin. "You'll sleep right through it."

The world started to tip under you, at once too bright and blurring together. Your limbs felt thick and clumsy, uncoordinated.

The last thing you felt was leather under your cheek.

Throbbing in your temples woke you, insistent and annoying. You groaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them carefully. The sudden flood of light made you close them tight again with a whimper, pain radiating all the way to the base of your skull.

Trying to lift your arm to block the glare didn't work, and you panicked then, a little. You couldn't move either hand, or your legs. When you tried, something rough rubbed against your skin, quickly rubbing you raw. Your breathing sped up in your panic and you carefully opened your eyes, head tilted down to try to minimize the light.

You didn't recognize anything. You were tied to a chair, the rope tight enough to prevent you from moving much, but you could at least still feel all your fingers and toes. Quick looks around showed nothing but a bare wooden room with a spotlight set up directly across from you. The light was so bright it hurt your eyes, and you gave up trying to see anything directly around it.

You had no idea where you were. You were tied up snugly enough that you couldn't escape. And you were alone.

This time, there was nothing you could do to stop the panicked tears. Despite knowing it wouldn't help, you couldn't stop yourself from jerking at the ropes, trying desperately to find some weakness.

The click of a door opening may as well have been as loud as a gunshot. You stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped everything. Footsteps approached you, smooth and even.

"Ah, you're finally awake. Just in time."

It was the man from the cabin, the one who'd given you the all clear. You sucked in a gasping breath, trying to form words.

"Best not. You're only here as incentive. I only need you alive, not unharmed."

You swallowed hard at that, at how casually he threatened you. Your mouth closed without a word.

"Good. Now, you just sit there and look alive." He chuckled a little at his own joke, stepping past you to fiddle with something just underneath the light. You couldn't see what it was - between the headache still incapacitating you and the man's bulk, you were useless.

You nearly started crying again but swallowed it back with enormous effort. You needed to be quiet. You needed to not give this man a reason to hurt you further. Johnny would figure this out, you had no doubt that he'd find you.

You needed to be alive for him to find.

The man moved behind the light again, and you winced at the brightness.

"Mr. MacTavish." His voice was lower now, drawling, insulting. "You have been making yourself quite a pest these last weeks, haven't you? You know more than you should. But you're not the only one."

Your eyes had finally adjusted enough to the light to see the little red light underneath. He was recording this. He was making a video to send to Johnny. You swallowed again, gripping the chair tight to hide your trembling.

"By now I'm sure you've noticed something is missing. Well, here she is. Still alive, as you can see. At least for now."

The click of the revolver was loud in the otherwise-silent room, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you and send the video to Johnny. Johnny would never survive that, he'd never get over it, this would destroy him–

"She is still alive by my grace, Mr. MacTavish." Something cool brushed the skin of your temple, making you flinch hard. But the gun didn't retreat, just shifted down to just under your ear at the hinge of your jaw. "Now, I propose a trade. If you cease your actions immediately, I will let her live. If, however, you continue on your current course…" The gun left your skin but a moment later there was a loud bang. You screamed, ducking your head down, unable to help yourself. Your ears rang with the shot, unbelievably loud in the enclosed space.

"Well, I think you get the picture. Decide quickly, Mr. MacTavish."

The man took a step away from you and you looked straight at the camera, eyes wide, heedless of the tears streaking down your cheeks.

"Johnny, don't–"

The pistol whipped across your temple. For a moment, you didn't feel anything. Then pain blindsided you, warm wetness flowing from your temple freely to mix with your tears. You choked on a gasp.

"Tick tock." The man sounded completely unbothered, steps just as smooth as ever. He must have turned off the video, because you heard rustling sounds, and a moment later he spoke again. "That was quite foolish of you. Let's hope, for your sake, that you remain quiet now. Or my patience may wear out." He walked across the room without turning off the light or unbinding you.

The click-shink of the door closing and locking sounded terribly final to you.

–

Soap felt like he was losing his mind. He'd sent the code to you three and a half days ago. It had taken a while for him to get to his selected agent to exfil you, making sure he knew the protocols you two had in place.

But the soldier had reported back that you were gone. The cabin had clearly been inhabited, your backpack was still in the bedroom.

But you were gone.

Soap knew you, knew you wouldn't take off without your things and without reason. Especially not since he'd been drilling the importance of your safety into you for years.

Something had happened. Someone had gotten to you first. Based on the lack of blood or visible signs of struggle, someone had gotten to you and given you the code.

This had been an inside job. Someone had known all of his contingencies and gotten to you. That narrowed the pool considerably.

But still not enough.

"Soap."

There had to be more he could do. He needed to be searching for you, he needed to make sure you were safe, he needed to–

"Johnny!"

He blinked when Ghost grabbed his shoulders, physically forcing him to stop. Soap took a deep breath, feeling like it was the first he'd taken in hours.

"Calm down. You're no good if you're panicking."

Soap snarled, pulling away from Ghost. "I need ta get ta her! She cannae get hurt, no' fer me."

"We will find her," Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest, immovable. "And when we do, you need to be sharp."

"Ah am!"

"You've gone full Scot."

Soap swore, and then swore again because Ghost was right. Not that he had a chance to admit it.

His phone pinged. For a moment, neither man moved. Then Soap pulled it out, eyes going wide.

There was a video message from you.

He hit play immediately, going cold as he watched. Your scream sent his heart all the way down to his feet. His hands were shaking.

He knew exactly who had you. Who, but not how or where.

His phone was plucked out of his unresisting hands and Ghost was saying… something. Soap couldn't hear past the roaring in his ears.

You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be away from all the shit in his life, safe from the darkness and the filth.

And now this one man held your life in his hands.

"--p. Soap. C'mon." Ghost pushed him a little, and as the rage and panic receded enough for him to feel more or less cognizant, Soap realized he was being herded to Price's office.

"Soap, Ghost." Price looked between the two, eyes narrowed.

"Captain." Ghost held out the phone without another word. Soap didn't watch, couldn't watch from where he stood, feet too heavy to move on his own.

But the sound of your scream… that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Fuckin' hell." Price leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When was this sent?"

"Just a few minutes ago."

Price nodded, setting the phone down very gently. "I'll see if we can get any location data from the message."

"And the rest of it, sir?" Ghost didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. But the tension in the room was undeniable.

Price breathed out slowly. "He's targeting Soap," he murmured with an apologetic glance at the Scot. "Means he doesn't know the rest of the 141. Everything was addressed just to Soap. For now, we'll back off to recon only."

"Copy that." Ghost did finally glance at Soap. "And her?"

Price was silent for several moments. "We have to assume she's alive."

Something in his chest loosened with his captain's confidence. Price assumed she was alive, so Soap would too. Just because she'd been bloodied didn't mean she was dead.

But it did mean that the arsewipe who thought he could hurt you would pay dearly for every drop of blood he spilled.

It took far longer than Soap was comfortable with for Intel to find you. (Any time was too long, any time spent with that rat bastard was unacceptable, the sound of your scream echoing in his head on repeat, your blood-stained skin etched behind his eyes.)

But they did find you. Price organized the raid. The best and worst thing? He hadn't taken you far. A couple hours from the cabin. Not far at all, in the grand scheme of things.

Price led, with Ghost finding a good sniper spot around the back. Gaz and Soap followed Price in. The goal was to do this as quick and quiet as possible.

The building had once been a home, but had been renovated and added on to before being abandoned. There had been no up to date plans of the interior that Intel could get their hands on.

All they had to go off of was the video. That damned video.

Two sentries outside. Price dispatched one, Gaz the other. Soap hung back, watching through the one uncovered window.

No movement inside that he could see.

The snake cam showed one more guard inside, back to the front door, focus on something further in.

"Gaz." Price kept his voice low, almost too low to hear, but Gaz knew. He nodded, testing the door. It swung open slowly with the faintest of creaks.

"Don't even with me, George," the guard started without turning. "Your break–"

Price slit his throat, silencing him. The body slumped to the ground.

Gaz went first, creeping slowly further into the house. A woman sat in a room further in, typing away on a laptop and speaking quietly into a phone.

"...the Cayman account. Yes I'm sure. I don't pay you for your opinion, just get the money moved. Now." She hung up with a short sigh and then stood. "Ray? I need the car, Mr. Hammond will be late to his next appointment."

Gaz moved silently behind the woman, clamping one hand over her mouth and his other arm firm around her middle. Soap pounced after her, quickly restraining her arms. Gaz dragged her outside at Price's nod.

Price and Soap continued on, moving silently through the building. The rest of the building was clear.

Except for one last door, in the middle of the house. Soap pressed himself to the wall on one side, Price on the other, both listening hard.

"You see, I'll be leaving momentarily." Hammond spoke calmly, as if this was nothing more than a meeting. "I can leave you here to the tender mercy of two of my men, or I can shoot you now."

Your muffled whimper sent Soap's blood boiling, rage tightening his muscles.

"Don't look at me like that, it won't help you." Hammond was quiet for a few moments longer. "Well. I suppose I'll let you live for now." Footsteps approached the door, and it pulled open into the room.

Soap lunged, tackling Hammond around the middle into the room. The first punch hit Hammond right in the eye. Soap didn’t even feel the impact against his knuckles. He didn't realize he was cursing, either. He just punched Hammond, again and again.

Until a hand caught his, hauling him back. Soap turned, lips curled back in a snarl.

"Easy, Soap," Price barked. "That's an order." He shoved the sergeant more or less gently in your direction.

Price must have cut you loose, because your hands were over your mouth, wrists rubbed raw and oozing. Blood still stained your skin from the injury Hammond had given you.

You were also the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Darlin'." Soap lurched forward, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands hovering an inch away from your face. Shame washed through him, hot and bitter. You were here because of him, you'd been hurt because of him. How could you ever forgive him, ever want to see him again?

Except you hiccuped a tiny sob and your hands covered his, pressing them to your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, heavy and desperate as you started crying again. "Johnny," you whimpered, hands convulsing around his.

That was all the convincing he needed. Soap pulled you in slow and careful until you could hide against his shoulder, one hand carefully shielding your wounded temple, the other rubbing across your back.

"Yer alrigh', darlin'," he crooned. "I got ye. My sweet bonnie, my darlin' lass, I got ye."

–

You had no idea how long you sat and cried against Johnny's shoulder. Long enough that you ran out of tears. Long enough that your breathing evened out.

But you still flinched when someone else cleared their throat nearby.

"Jus' my Captain," Johnny murmured to you, his hand never ceasing its soothing rubbing along your back.

"We need to go." The Captain's voice was low and rough. You risked a careful peek over Johnny's shoulder and the Captain gave you a tiny smile, standing guard at the door.

"Can ye walk?"

You blinked a few times and then nodded carefully. "Slowly," you agreed.

"Alrigh'." Johnny stood and helped you to your feet, holding you steady. Hammond was gone, something that you noted absently and were eternally grateful for.

"Gaz and Ghost are in one car," the Captain told you both (mostly Johnny). "We'll take the other."

"Rog." Johnny kept one arm around you, helping to support you out. You tried not to look at the blood splatters on the floor and ground.

Rather to your surprise, the Captain opened the door to the backseat for you, and Johnny helped you in before quickly scooting in next to you.

"We'll head back to base," the Captain said as he started the car. Ahead of you, you could see the other car leading the way. "We'll need to take your statement." It wasn't until his eyes met yours in the rear view mirror that you realized he was speaking to you.

"Okay," you agreed quietly, though the thought of having to relive the last few days sent your pulse racing.

The drive was silent. Johnny refused to let go of you entirely, holding your hand and rubbing your knee, both relatively uninjured areas.

You shuddered to think how you'd feel tomorrow.

You had no idea how long the ride was. Long enough that you were nodding off against Johnny's shoulder, only to wake going over a bump.

"Easy," Johnny murmured in your ear. "We're almost there. Then we'll get you patched up."

You nodded, squeezing his hand. You just wanted to go home and sleep for a week and forget any of this had ever happened.

The transition from the car to medical was… a lot. There were a lot of people and a lot of talking over your head. But Johnny refused to let go of you the entire time, staying glued to your side.

But you still could never remember how exactly you got to medical, sitting on a cot while someone cleaned blood off your face, Johnny sitting pressed up against your side.

"We should do this now, before you forget anything." Price lowered himself into a chair in front of you, out of the way of the nurse cleaning you up. You realized with a little start that your wrists had already been bandaged, and when you tried to lift a hand to check your forehead Johnny caught you.

"Best not, darlin'," he murmured, low and concerned. "It's taken care of."

You pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you nodded. Your hand fell limp unto your lap. "Okay."

Price nodded, setting down something on his knee and motioning for you to proceed.

You started slowly, stumbling a little. How you got the text and packed up a backpack. How you followed protocol, doing everything exactly as Johnny had planned.

How you got to the cabin and waited. And waited some more.

"He knew my name." You felt a little bit floaty by now. The nurse had gone, too, leaving you with the two men. "He called my name through the door."

Johnny looked worried, squeezing your hand gently. "Did he know the all clear?"

"He did. Not at first, he said… said you'd sent him to pick me up. But when I refused to open the door, he gave the all clear." You blinked slowly and licked your lips.

The men exchanged another significant look. You just reached trembling fingers for the cup of water.

Price rescued you, handing it over and holding it until you had a firm grip. "Then what?"

You sipped the water and shrugged. "Well, I opened the door. He knew the all clear. He told me to leave my things, because we needed to go." You paused, tipping your head a little. "I think he drugged me. It gets fuzzy, but I think I remember something hurting my neck, and maybe being set down in the car?"

"Okay," Price murmured. "We're almost done. When did you wake up?"

Your hands started shaking. "A few minutes before that video."

"You don't need to tell us about that," Johnny was quick to assure you, shooting Price a look as if to keep him from objecting. "What happened in between waking up and the video?"

"Not a lot. He didn't say much, just said…" You swallowed hard, hand clutching tight to Johnny's. "Said he needed me alive, but not necessarily unharmed, so I should behave."

Johnny rubbed your knee soothingly. "That should be enough, aye, Captain?"

"Just one more question." Price leaned forward a little. "After the video ended… what did he say?"

You looked away, swallowing roughly. You didn't think you could physically cry anymore, but you wanted to. "That what I did was foolish, and I should remain quiet or he'd kill me." Your next inhale was shaky. "He wasn't planning to let me leave alive no matter what Johnny did, was he?"

"No. He wasn't." Price turned off the recorder and patted your knee. "Get some rest. You too, Soap." And then he was gone, striding away.

You leaned more heavily into Johnny, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. "Are we done?" You couldn't raise your voice above a murmur.

"Yeah, we're done. You did so well, darlin'. So well." Johnny pressed feather-light kisses to your temple and cheek. "Drink the rest of that water, aye? You're dehydrated."

You drank, and then laid back in the cot when Johnny helped. His hand leaving yours caused you to struggle into sitting again, a pained noise leaving you.

"Easy, darlin', easy," Johnny assured you. "Just moving this cot so I can get some sleep too." He dragged the cot right next to yours and then laid down, once again holding your hand. There was open pain in his gaze as he looked you over again. "I am so sorry."

"Don't. Don't apologize for him. It's not your fault." You held tight to his hand, frowning and ignoring the pull of the butterfly bandages at your temple.

"But–"

"No. They chose to do awful things, not you. Don't take the blame for them." You dared to scoot a little closer to him. "Please, Johnny. Don't let this destroy either of us."

His eyes widened and a moment later he was curled around you, trembling minutely. His breathing was fast and shaky, unsteady. But you held firm through it all, lifting one hand to rub at the soft, prickly short hairs on the side of his head until he calmed.

"You're a bloody marvel," he finally whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. "And you need to sleep."

"Stay?" You pressed your hand to the back of his head, gently holding him.

"As long as you'll have me," he vowed, quiet and sincere. "Maybe even a bit after that."

"You'll be waiting a long time," you murmured. Your eyes were closed and you couldn't pry them back open. Thoughts were hard to keep track of.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin'."

You meant to reply, you really did. But between thinking of a response and trying to actually say it… you fell asleep.

But you wouldn't have it any other way.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #mind the warnings

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soupbabe · 1 year

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Hi! Could I request a Thomas Hewitt x male reader???

Back when Thomas was 13-14 he was buying popsicles (Because like, Texas is hot as hell in the summer months..) once he walks out of the store, he hears something like an angel singing. He follows the noise and sees a theatre production of something, and the most BEAUTIFUL boy his age is singing, Thomas grows a big fat crush on him, then maybe they meet years later?

Seeing Him Again (Thomas Hewitt x Male! Reader)

Thomas meets a familiar stranger.

THIS WAS SO CUTE 🥺 This might be a tad bit off script, but I think it fits the request still.

Tagging: @slaasherslut

The hot Texas sun glared down at Thomas as he walked along the deserted road, his energy drained from his shift at the slaughterhouse. He walked at a slow pace, savoring the silence he had before he had to go back home. Though it wasn't long before a car blasting music interrupted his peaceful walk.

He stood in his spot, silently observing the car driving up to him. Soon enough, the car parked right beside him and he saw the driver lean over to roll down the passenger side window. "Hey, uh- need a ride?" The man yelled, his volume fighting with the noise from his radio. Thomas tilted his head, analyzing the vaguely familiar features of the stranger. The man turned down the music, "I just didn't think you'd want to be walking out in this kind of weather- I don't mean to bother ya." He clarified. He was about roll the window back up before Thomas drew closer and opened the door.

The driver smiled as the bigger man made himself comfortable, "Where ya heading?" Thomas stayed still upon getting a closer look at the man. Everything about him felt so familiar, but recognition was just out of reach. "Not much of a talker?" He asked and Thomas nodded. "How bout you just point to where we're going, does that sound good?" Once again, Thomas shook his head and pointed straight ahead.

It wasn't long before Tommy heard the volume on the radio increase. "Do you mind? I like this song." The driver asked, to which the he shrugged in response. The stranger smiled and began humming along to the upbeat song, to which evolved into a quiet, mumbled singing. The man's voice was music to Thomas's ears and was the key to unlocking who his chauffeur was.

That deep, melodic, voice was unmistakable.

It brought him back to the days where he'd hide behind trees just to listen to a boy his age recite the catchy jingle of his favorite ice cream brand. It reminded him of all the times he lied to Hoyt just so he can come see him practice right in front of him. He'd make him feel so special by calling them "private concerts." He even remembered the boy bringing him into an embrace because he told him that he'd have to move away.

Thomas used to fantasize about meeting you again, being held by you once more. But now that it's happening, he wanted to kick himself for not realizing sooner.

Quickly, Thomas rummaged through his apron to find a crumpled up piece of paper and pencil that's seen better days. His frantic movements caused the car to stop and for it's owner to look at him in concern. "Everything alright? What's going on?" He asked. Thomas was busy scribbling down on the back of the paper before handing it off to you. "Y/n?" He wrote.

He heard playful laughter coming from the man. "I knew it was you, Tommy. Been waiting for you to finally notice."

#Thomas Hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #the texas chainsaw massacre x reader #the texas chainsaw massacre 2003 #tcm x reader #tcm #leatherface x reader #Leatherface #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #horror x reader

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bhaalbaaby · 8 months

Text

random headcanons because im bored working and been thinking about parenting since im now indoctrinated

listing in best to worst parent lol

karlach - im probably biased but i think if she could have a child to take care of, she would be the best mom. she's would want the best for them and protect them from any dangers. she's also like childish enough that she could relate to them in a more human way than like some parents iykyk lol most of her stories start with a "do not attempt this." if her kid is into sports, she's at all the games, practices, scrimmages. the coaches call her their co-coach.

gale - i feel like he'd be that dad that like has great snacks but if you talk to him for a little bit, he starts telling you about random facts he knows. he has beekeeper vibes. i also think he would be in the PTA and at every meeting, field trips, especially to the museum. he can be overbearing but he means well

wyll - i feel like i should have put wyll higher. i think he would be a great dad and is very caring and understanding, but i think he would need to work on his demons (ha ha) first before he can be committed to that. if he is free from it, he would be the best dad. he would want to be the dad he wished he had tbh. always there and present and full of love ;-;

halsin - i think he'd be pretty good. he cares a lot. but i also feel like he'd be distant if he's on a project so to speak. he would make sure his kid is taken care of and loved on for sure. i think he would also have the best stories and go on nature walks all the time. he'd make sure his kid is always staying green and recites their 3 r's lol

shadowheart - i think she'd be a waspy mom tbh. controversial ikik, but i really think she would be a waspy crunchy mom lol i do think she would be chill as her kid got older and not so protective considering her past, but just like in the game, you're gonna have to work on that. she's like the mom you found out dated a rockstar when she was younger and she's like oh yeah w/e and never talks about it again lol

lae'zel - lol she would not want to be a mom tbh. maybe a cool aunt, but i think as a mom if she's not softened, she would be a hard one ;-; rigor and perfection at all times. i think if she is softened, she'd be more understanding, but still would require the best. she is lower because she would not even think to put herself in a position to be a caretaker of a child which ya know what good for her lol

astarion - two minds of this. evil astarion would love it for the wrong reasons. he would be setting his child to be his next in line and would require perfection like lae'zel but to the extreme. good astarion would not want the responsibility because it is a lot. he'd be worried that he's gonna mess up the kid somehow and wouldn't believe he could do it. but i think as long as he has a good village he could be an okay dad lol best dressed dad. he's not going on field trips, he's not participating in PTA lol but he will go to performances and recitals.

#headcanons #baldur's gate hc #headcanon #parent hc #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #wyll #gale #writing #i wanna be a karlach mom but i think im more of a shadowheart/astarion lmaooo #good astarion mind u lol #i'll have to ask my bby which one he thinks i am if he pays attention :P

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ykiwrite · 1 year

Text

the tempest

desc: library date and the struggles of keeping you a secret

warnings: fluff, bit angst, suggestive

words: ~1k

"Hear my soul speak; The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service,"

Jenna recited as she walked on the same left-to-right line envisioned in her head for half an hour now.

Hands floating around her like she's on the real stage, acting in front of thousands of eyes. Truly, it was only yours.

The ordeal was to visit a library, borrow a book her director reportedly told her and head home. Well, that was a lie.

You found yourself stranded in a small, local library for longer than intended. Only two of you and the librarian lady, unaware of the third wheeling role she holds. Every now and then the bell rang signaling another visitor. Considering how long you've been here, it started to be a less frequent occurrence.

Sitting in the very corner far from entrance, made you lose track of time. The sun is probably setting by now and air was getting colder.

"The more you do this the more i think he did not ask you to read Shakespeare and practice the lines. You made it up."

"Wherefore would i ever?" she asked giving you shocked glare, hand covering her mouth.

"You can drop Shakespeare act, love." You told her through a laugh that passed onto her.

Closing the book, she sat down opposite of you. Her legs routinely tangling up with yours for the sake of the much needed contact. Placing hands on the table that's occupied with couple of books, your bags and headphones, Jenna said;

"It's a pretty good date idea, you gotta give me credit for it."

"Aha, so it was a date?" You sat straight up, confidently claiming the victory of your suspicions.

"Why else would i quote Shakespeare other than to set the mood?"

Sliding back down the wall behind you, with raised brow you repeated herself "To set the mood?"

Feeling as if you pressed the wrong button by looking at her shoulders drop. The liveliness she had a minute ago was getting replaced by a thing less merrier.

"We both know for the past, what? Few weeks we barely left the apartment together. Let alone do anything else except binge watch and take up entire couch."

The tone that she set sounded shattering enough. Her expression only added more damage. Entirely distracted by the rings on her fingers, which she kept twirling around. The feeling of guilt settling in was harsh so you spoke,

"You know i don't mind. I never did. You have a movie to work on, it's not like you can ditch it." Letting your hand grab hers in hopes of stopping the nervous fidgeting.

Fixated on both of your hands now collided, Jenna was not yet ready to look up.

"I know that but it still feels like it's not good enough. I wish there wasn't camera in my face the second i step outside."

A short pause she offered made you alert of how quiet the library is. It's what Jenna wanted all along. A place that provided the same thing your home did. No prying eyes, no shouting, less fans and more of you which lacked.

With everything that came attached to her line of work, places and times like this were becoming something to get used to it. Whether you like it or not. And if she's in question, there's not a thing you couldn't bare.

"I wish it could simply be you and me sometimes. Just like before all of this."

The way she looked, on the thread to break and like an open book only you can read, you did not let time slip away.

With a quick motion of your feet making way over, her arms opened ahead of time welcoming you. Apology that got lost in your sweater didn't go unheard. "Don't be sorry" you reassured quietly.

Tracing patterns in short hair of hers, you laid a kiss on top of it. After making sure you're not going anywhere, you felt the grip around you loosen.

"God, you're the best." Wiping the tears remained accompanied by a few sniffs. "Seriously, i know i might talk a bit to much about Gwendoline but-"

"Jenna," pulling her arms away that hid her face, "you don't have to make excuses." Both faces looking at eachother, eyes pursuing every outline visible under this budget library light hanging from above.

Making a swipe with your thumb just below her eye, you whispered "I love you. Don't think i don't just because we're busy. At the end of the day, you're coming home to me, right?"

As if there was no energy left to form an answer, Jenna shyly nodded "Yeah. I am."

Flooded by the tension created, wondering if it goes both ways left Jenna with only one way of discovering.

"I love you too."

With a pull of your collar, she moved you forward to close the already small distance between. Lips landing on hers and she swore no movie scene compares to this.

No thoughts except the need to prove you how incredibly cherished, loved and addicting you are. Pulling away for a split second, not nearly enough to catch a breath she kissed you once again. Evidently with more passion and lust.

Recognizing the latter, you leaned in deeper. Allowing yourself to become completely absorbed in her act. An act which had two possible outcomes.

Bodies swaying back and forward, Jenna was the first to break the kiss, only to capture the side of your neck. Lost in pleasure, your head thrown back made the book from the shelf behind fall. The noise meant nothing to Jenna but you hopelessly attempted to form a sentence.

"Jenna, maybe here is not the best idea-" as you interrupted yourself with a moan caused by her doings.

Her fingers messing around with the waistband of your pants made you completely spiral. If you let her go now any further, you might not get another chance to stop her at all.

"Jenna, we're in library. Someone might come and see us."

Her only response was a hum, meaning she didn't even acknowledge what you just said.

With the sound of the first button being loose, you used force to move her head so she looks at you. Not before connecting your lips once more, this time more gently. Knowing it will barely bring her back to earth. It was worth a shot, though.

Sigh. "Fine, but i'm calling an Uber so we get home faster." She stated breathless, in annoyed spirit.

You smiled, observing her rapid packing up of the contents on the table. So eager to leave, you thought.

"Whatever you say."

notes: here i go again, i cant with her, she ruined my life completely (sarcastically or not)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagines

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Note

Hey I'm not too sure whether you are open for requests but I'll just leave it here anyway because I just absolutely LOVE the way you write mythical creatures and demons. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥ Each and every one of your works were just devoured by me in mere hours after I found your profile. ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

Especially the one with Chase the tentacle monster. Yum. (͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)✨

So I was wondering if it would be possible to write a drabble or smut of a yandere maedar. They are a bit lesser known Greek mythical creatures and are basically the male versions of gorgons. (Just in case you didn't know)

The fact about their loyalty to their mates is what made me wonder about them.

I had never heard of these before you sent this, but I love the idea of a male version of a gorgon. I immediately got attached to the idea of Rohan having tattoos on his head of snakes in honor of his sisters, which then made me visualize him as this total pierced up sort of biker badass! Thanks for sending me this, it's so interesting to do unique monsters.

Maeder (Rohan) x female reader

Word Count: almost 3k

W: nsfw monster smut, vaginal sex, some bullying and brief discussion of suicide, mention of yandere activities

“Rohan, stop hissing at him,” you chided your security guard.

“Hsssss!” he hissed louder, bearing his fangs this time.

The skinny man in the suit holding an 8.5x11 glossy of you with your cello might have pissed himself and practically tripped over his own feet running away.

Rohan was a pretty intimidating visage, that’s why your mother/manager had hired him to be your security guard. At eight feet tall and probably 500 lbs, the Maeder had a bald head covered with writhing tattoos of snakes bearing their fangs.

Venom dripped from their teeth, a vivid gold compared to his gray skin. Gold studs pierced his face above his eyebrow and a gold septum piercing hung in his nose. He didn’t look like the type of guy you wanted to fuck with.

You swatted his arm and his gold, reptilian eyes flicked to you.

“My job is security Miss (Y/N),” he growled, “these groupies are dangerous.”

“I think they are just harmless fans,” you assured him, rolling your eyes.

He grunted. Rohan didn’t think anyone was harmless, except maybe you. He saw the sick letters you got from psychos when he went through your mail. Any one of these “harmless fans” could be a serious threat. Your phone rang and you sighed, answering it.

“Hello mother,” you said, tightly into the phone.

“Where was your head at (Y/N)?” she snapped, “you won't get another sponsorship with that kind of performance. Have you been out partying too much?”

You huffed.

“Mother, you know where I’ve been…all I ever do is practice,” you grumbled at her as you made your way through the back of the concert hall with Rohan leading the way.

He guided you to a sleek limousine and helped you in. You always felt bad for how he had to crouch in these things to fit, but your mother ordered the cars and she didn’t take his comfort into consideration.

“Ugh,” you groaned, crumpling once you were inside. You loved the cello, but you hated the celebrity of it all. Your mother was a marketing genius and had helped you build a fabulous career, but now you wished you could just work on movie soundtracks at home instead of these public recitals she made you do. She wanted to expand your career, make you into a pop star or something.

You’d recorded two solo albums, composed the soundtrack to a popular video game, and appeared on the cover of a popular ladies’ magazine. Still, as successful as she’d made you, you didn’t get the scheme. You were just a nerdy girl who was good at one thing, playing the cello, not some flashy celebrity. You weren’t exceptionally gorgeous or crazy fit like she seemed to want you to be.

“Well you aren’t practicing enough,” she snapped, “and what are you eating? You look like a pig! I’m hiring you another trainer, that asshole obviously isn’t doing his job.”

You rubbed your eyes, probably smearing makeup all over your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Listening to her talk was like melting your face with an iron.

“Are you on your way home?” she snarled, “make sure you put some ice on your face before you go to sleep. You had bags under your eyes. You can’t go out there looking like a trash bin, (Y/N). I’ve got you an appointment scheduled for Botox next week and then we’ll start looking into a boob job.”

You put the phone on the car seat and closed your eyes, ignoring her prattling. She was going on about Botox options and body shaping. There was nothing wrong with your face and you didn’t need to go on a diet or get surgery. You needed to figure out how to unlink yourself from being your mother’s project. Maybe she could manage a celebrity puppy…though you hated to put anyone, even a dog, through her version of management. She’d probably make the puppy get leg lengthening surgery or something.

At some point Rohan just hit the red button to end the call. She’d go on for a while without even noticing you’d hung up if she ever noticed at all. Usually she just gave you some curt order about your diet or skincare routine before hanging up herself. You shot him a grateful glance.

“She’s just using you, you know,” he said, fiddling with a knife at his knee.

He was always so stoic except when he had something to say, which wasn’t often. Then he was nervous, even though his voice was deep and commanding.

“I know…but all this wouldn’t exist without her,” you said, waving vaguely at the expensive dress you were wearing, the limousine, your $10,000 cello, and even him, “It’s kind of a trade, isn’t it?”

He frowned.

“Usually trades are consensual,” he growled, waving back at you, “all this wouldn’t exist without you.”

“Mmm,” you said, “I guess. I could leave if I wanted, but where would I go?”

He snorted.

“You can’t actually,” he smiled darkly, “why do you think I’m paid so much?”

You looked at him blankly.

“What? My mother is paying you to keep me from running away?” you asked.

He nodded, his eyes trained on you, reading your expression.

“You’re her golden goose,” he said, “she was worried you’d fall in love with some tech mogul and want to quit. You’re the talented, beautiful genius, you’ll be just fine, but what about her? To keep her living in the way she’s grown accustomed to, she hired me to handle those sorts of things. Discourage suitors…report back to her on your relationships…Get rid of anyone who gets too close…all of that.”

He pulled out his phone and held up a screen with a notepad app full of dates and times.

“I’m supposed to be collecting data on your emotional state so she can use it to declare you unfit to manage your own estate,” he went on.

Your eyes widened.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked.

He shrugged and didn’t say anything else, looking away and shoving his phone back in his pocket. You glanced out the window at the city going by and frowned, tears pricking your eyes. Though you were hurt and felt betrayed, you didn’t get to be a nationally acclaimed cellist because you were weak of spirit. You took a deep breath and looked out the window, centering yourself.

“So I’ve really been a prisoner all along,” you murmured, seeing the tall buildings blurring together as prison bars, “aren’t you afraid now that I know, I’ll try to get away?”

He barked out a somber laugh and you supposed that was your answer. He was paid to make sure that didn’t happen and just by looking at him you could tell there wasn’t much hope.

Rohan pulled off his jacket and covered you with it as you made your way into your building to avoid the flashing lights of the few paparazzi posted outside. By your mother’s standards, you looked horrible. If she saw you on some blog with makeup smeared all over your face she would have a conniption fit.

For a moment you were surrounded with the scent of him and his cologne. He smelled a bit spicy. When you reached the top floor you wandered out onto your balcony, kicking your heels off behind you and looking out over the city. It was hard to feel like a prisoner up here, looking down at the rooftops. You leaned out, clutching the balustrade and took a deep breath in.

Thick warm hands, suddenly wrapped around you and you started.

“Don’t jump,” Rohan’s deep voice rumbled in your ear.

You spat out a dry laugh.

“You thought I was going to kill myself?” you rasped, “don’t you think it would serve you right, watching me throw myself off the building after what you just told me? You’re my jailor, after all.”

He turned you around to look at you, tipping your face up and his lips came down on yours, hungry and desperate.

“You're a fool if you think I’m just going to let her have you,” he growled an inch away from your face, “you’re mine (Y/N).”

His mouth smashed back into yours, one heavy hand holding you to him by your waist and the other wound in your hair so tightly you couldn’t move. You could only accept his kiss and moan into his mouth.

This was…unexpected…but not unwelcome. You’d always found Rohan to be attractive, he was just so serious you never thought he even considered sex. You’d never seen his eyes follow another man or woman except with a look of distrust in them. He was handsome so people threw themselves at him all the time, but he never seemed the slightest bit moved, always focused intensely on you.

The big hand on your waist drifted over your ass, cupping and squeezing the flesh. It slid further down and you let out a squeal, when he pulled you up to his chest, pulling your legs around his waist.

You dragged your lips away from him just a half an inch and whispered into his mouth.

“What is this? We shouldn’t be doing this,” you gasped, “you work for my mother.”

You were confused. He was your jailor, you shouldn’t be giving in to his advances. He chuckled and kissed you, pressing his tongue between your lips and twining it with yours. When he pulled away you were only aware of his words and his flavor, sweet cinnamon.

“I’m gonna fuck you against this window and then I’m gonna take you away from here.”

Before you could respond his thick hand jerked your dress down, snapping the thin spaghetti straps that held it up and letting your breasts pop out. He pulled your chest to his head and his mouth latched on to your nipple, kissing and suckling.

“Ahhh!” you wailed, surprised by the sudden hot, wet contact.

“Y-you sh-shouldn’t…” you tried to insist.

His mouth popped off your nipple for just a second.

“Then tell me to stop,” he growled, his nose brushing the flesh.

You just looked at him for a moment, but couldn’t bring the words to your lips. It felt too good. It didn’t matter what happened after this, you just wanted him.

He smirked and went back to laving your nipples with his tongue, pressing your back against the cool glass behind you. The only thing that came out of your mouth were moans and his name.

You felt his thick fingers fumbling with your panties until you heard a long rip. Pushing you further up the window, he shimmied your dress up your hips and attacked your pussy with long wet laps. His split tongue played with your clit and your legs instinctively wrapped around his head, pulling him closer as he drove you wild with his agile appendage.

Propped on his shoulders, he speared your cunt with his fingers. You were already soaking wet and your juices dribbled down his wrist as he pumped his digits inside of you mercilessly.

Screaming your channel clenched down on his fingers as you came with them inside. Colors flashed in your eyes and your hands clung to his head, nails making crescent dents on his skin. Pulling back, he grinned at you and spun you around to face the window.

“Do you know how many times I’ve watched you prancing around this fucking penthouse in those little booty shorts you wear, wanting to take you right here?” he growled, “I should have marked off the spot with chalk for how many times I jerked myself off, thinking about fucking you against this window. And as much as I loved rubbing one out over your pretty lips while you were sleeping, I’m gonna make this cunt mine for good.”

As alarming as that should have been, his glowing golden eyes reflected in the glass in front of you and his hot breath in your ear made your pussy leak even more at the admission and your clit sparkled with need.

He grabbed the back of your head, his fat fingers digging into your hair, and held your face against the cool glass while he freed his cock from his pants. You screamed his name as he impaled you with it in one smooth stroke, not even trying to hold back.

You had no idea but Rohan needed to take you like this. He needed to ruin you for anyone else. He’d been watching you for a year, obsessing over you, planning and plotting how he was going to take his mate. He would have already killed your mother if he thought it would get him any closer to having you. Instead he’d been collecting information on her and feeding it to lawyers he’d hired to make sure your interests were well represented.

He held you in the air with little effort, your arms and legs dangling as he pulled back and slammed into you again, all the while holding your head into the window. He’d pinned you against the glass so he wouldn't bruise your cheek as he took you as hard as he needed to. Though you felt like he was going to snap you in half each time he powered into you, your back arched.

From the edge of your vision you could see the glittering lights of the city sparkling below you. Your fingers pressed against the smooth surface because there was nothing else to hold on to as he slammed into you over and over again. Drool and your black mascara were streaking the glass.

You howled with every stroke, having never been stretched by someone so large before. His cock was long and thick, filling you to the brim and pounding your walls mercilessly.

“Fuck, babygirl, that’s it,” he groaned loudly, grunting like an animal as he thrust in and out of you, “you’re so fucking tight.”

Soon he was just growling “mine” and your name over and over again while he rutted you. You gasped and sobbed, your eyes crossed as his dick battered your G-spot.

With your pussy gushing around him, he jerked you back against his chest forcing you down over his cock a few more times before he emptied himself into you, grunting your name. The thread holding you together snapped and you orgasmed to his hot cum flooding you, barely noticing the sharp pain at your neck, where he bit you.

When he slipped out of you, he pulled you into a princess hold, folding his head down at the neck and nuzzling the bite.

“Wh-what was th-that?” you stammered.

It wasn’t bad, just unexpected.

“My mating bite,” he murmured, his voice a grumble rolling in your ear, “you’re mine.”

Your heart fluttered at that. Again, this was all so unexpected, but you didn’t find yourself upset…In fact you felt safe and supported. Like someone was finally on your team. Maybe that was foolish to assume, but as he carried you to your bedroom, you found yourself snuggling your face into his shoulder and sighing happily.

He stroked your hair as he climbed into your king sized bed with you still tucked in his arms. Arranging himself against the headboard he watched you fall asleep in his arms, gazing in awe at the bite on your neck you’d so easily accepted. Honestly, he’d worried you’d cry and fight and he’d wondered if he would have been able to hold himself back.

Your soft submission in that moment was so much sweeter and tied him to you more tightly than anything you could ever say would.

When you woke from your nap, he was going to help you pack your things to take you to a safe house where you could stay while you filed criminal charges against your mother for fraud. You were Rohan’s mate and he didn’t want to see you used as your mother’s meal ticket.

Even if legal means didn’t work, he would find illegal ones to accomplish his task. If you wanted to write soundtracks or albums or do nothing at all, he was going to keep you safe and secure till the day you died.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster smut #monster romance #x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere x reader

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sseniita · 6 months

Text

hero's new date

Hero knew she was being pissy. She didn’t need her oh-so-important superhero situationship to tell her she was being pissy. You’d think that after months of him sending the hero flowers and chocolates, talking her up at events and speaking highly of her that he’d be a bit more attentive when the hero finally gave in to go on a date. It’s been three weeks since that date and even though the hero never considered this an official relationship- Superhero had taken the liberty of telling any and all paparazzi of his ‘new girlfriend.’

Her manager/trainer had told her to go along with it.

See where it goes! It’ll do wonders for your reputation!

As if Hero needed help with her reputation. But she agreed, and went on the dates, smiled at the cameras and tonight- she will invite him to her ballet recital. Although being a Hero was her full-time job, her real self had been in ballet lessons since a child and never seemed to let it go. The last few times Hero had invited Superhero to her recitals he’d always have something more important to do. So before he could drive away, she finally got the guts and spat it out.

“Hey, I have a recital this Saturday. I’d mean a lot if you came.” She tried.

“Oh! Saturday? Yikes, sorry babes, I’m on night patrol this Saturday.”

No you’re not, you piece of-

“Oh… well. Maybe you could catch the beginning…or ending?”

The Superhero began very subtly playing with the window switch on the side of the car. Still seated in the driver’s seat, dressed in a marvellous suit with combed hair, he looked stunning. The Superhero was known for being cocky with reason. He was handsome, famous, and powerful, everyone wanted him. So when he had expressed interest in her, she couldn’t help being flattered but she was beginning to regret ever going on those dates.

“Hmm, Dunno.” He lazily patted the expensive leather of the wheel. “Might not make it. But hey! Maybe I could catch you afterwards? Head to my place, drink, end the night off making you feel good?” He winked and Hero cringed.

“Uhh, ya. We’ll see-”

“Unless I could help you out with that now.” Hero wanted to vomit.

“Um…” Thankfully she was sort of paying attention to what he was saying earlier. “Didn’t you say you had patrolling tonight?…that’s why you had to drop me off at…” she looked at her watch, “8:30?” The Supervillain cursed silently, but Hero caught it. He laughed nervously.

“Totally forgot, Babes. So uh- Saturday? I’ll pick you up?”

“We’ll see.” She repeated.

“Cool. I’ll text ya.” He drove away once Hero gave him a wave. Leaving her stranded on the curb in front of her apartment building. The moment the car turned the corner, she tilted her head back and sighed in frustration. She rolled her eyes as she began to trudge into the building before a laugh stopped her.

“Damn, babes. You’re not gonna invite him in for some drinks- end the night feeling good?”

She could recognize his voice anywhere. Villain.

Despite herself she smiled at the tease. “Oh no! I could never. Our brave and chivalrous Superhero is busy fighting crime at some model’s house.” She spat. “Wouldn’t wanna disturb him.”

Villain chuckled as he walked into the light of the apartment’s foyer, shining through the glass doors. He was walking funny. Hero took note of it as he listened to Villain’s spiel.

“I have no idea why you’re into him.”

The hero sighed. “I don’t think I am, manager/trainer said I should give it a shot for publicity. I think he might actually be a bit of a dick.”

“Obviously. Besides, what help do you need with publicity? You’re above him in everything.”

“Thanks.” She said, although not truly believing it.

“Blonde, muscular and shiny. He’s practically your brother.”

“Don’t relate him to me!”

“You mean being compared to your boyfriend is an insult?” He finally got close enough to Hero for her to smell the blood. She played along.

“Not my boyfriend.” she shrugged at him. “But yes- it is insulting.”

She got another laugh out of Villain, slightly strained but nevertheless charismatic.

“That’s not what the newspaper says: ‘Superhero and Hero: Caught having a romantic date’ was the front page headline if I remember correctly."

“Do you normally memorize headlines with my name in them?”

“Every one.” He winked. She gave him another smile before finally getting to the point.

“So…what are you doing in front of my apartment building? I have a hunch but I’m testing out if I’m easy to lie to or if Superhero’s just an asshole.”

“Just hoping to get the chance to make you feel good.” Hero was having a good time for the first time this evening. He leaned in ever so slightly. “You look very pretty by the way. In case Mr. Handsome forget to tell you.” Hero had been wearing a dress she had to work up the courage for hours to wear out, only for Superhero to tell her to wear something cuter next time. She looked Villain up and down, although he looked tired with his hair messy, his clothing all roughed up, and a bruise forming on his left cheek, she couldn't help but swoon at his honey colored eyes.

“I guess he didn't after all. Thank you.” She smiled fondly- forgetting herself for a second. “Anyways if that’s the case I guess I’ll just head up then...”

“Okay, okay. I need your help.” Villain confessed huffing through a smile. Hero watched as Villain pulled back his jacket and shirt to reveal a nasty gash on his back. “Ouch. Who’s handiwork?” asked the hero.

“Eh. Who cares? I got most of ‘em anyways-”

“Them?” Hero interrupted.

“Not an issue. Promise.” reassured the Villain.

“So I really am easy to lie to.” Hero said bluntly. The Villain pouted. “Seriously- don’t worry about it.”

She let it go for now. The Hero leaned down to take a closer look at the gash.

“Definitely needs stitches.” Hero analyzed.

“You know I’m shit at stitches- kinda urgent though, lost a lot of blood. I hate to make you ruin that dress.”

“Who said I’d help you?” Hero said, tilting her head.

“I can make you feel good.” Villain bargained in a sing-songy tone.

“If you never say that again, it’ll be enough payment.” She chuckled, carefully hooking an arm around his waist to help him walk towards the apartment, the villain habitually hooked his arm around her neck as they both wobbled forward, taking the hero’s purse with his free hand as she opened the door. As they had many times before.

“By the way, are you busy Saturday night-” started the Hero, quickly interrupted by the Villain.

“I’d love to go.”

And that night, he did in fact make the Hero feel good.

#writing #hero x villain #villain x hero #criticism welcome #this one made me blush tee hee #k love u byeeeee

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