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arlo1611 · 5 months

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Another side of you (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Male Reader) - Part 3

Thanks so much for the likes on my last 2 parts! It is greatly appreciated :)

Word Count: 2020

TW: Injuries, blood, mental health issues

Y/N’s heart was beating faster than it had ever beaten before. His vision was blurred as he ran through the dense and snow covered forest. In his arms, he held Simon… who had suffered a deep bullet wound to the chest. Blood was pouring out of him, spilling into the snow and coating Y/N as he carried him. Y/N ran as bullets from the enemy wizzed past him at terrifying speeds. He knew he couldn’t stop, he knew he couldn’t afford to get hurt too. If he stopped for even a moment, Simon’s condition would get worse. Y/N could never let that happen… So he ran. Ran and ran and ran.

Y/N screamed into the radio over and over again, requesting immediate backup and medical assistance. However, due to how remote he and Simon were… no body could get there quick enough. “Fine… I’ll do it myself…” Y/N muttered to himself. He was growing weak, carrying a man the same weight as him while running through a forest covered in 3 feet of snow was taking its toll on his body. But he didn’t stop, in fact, when he looked down at Simon’s unconscious face… he speed up. He was driven by rage and a sense of extreme urgency, he was going to save Simon no matter what.

After hours of trekking through the thick wilderness, he reached a clearing where the evacuation helicopter was waiting. He picked up his speed even more, dodging bullets and hoisting Simon further up onto himself. He pretty much threw Simon down onto the stretcher when he boarded the helicopter and it began taking off. He sat on the floor of the helicopter, watching the medics work on Simon to try and save his life. Y/N tried his best to control his breathing, get himself under control… but the sight of Simon’s nearly lifeless body was too much.

A few hours later, Y/N sat in the hospital waiting room. Simon had been in surgery for hours now, and would continue to be for many more. Y/N didn’t really know how to feel. The odds of Simon surviving were slim, even if he did make it he might end up with permanent disabilities. Numb. Thats how he felt. Completely and utterly numb. Y/N wondered about what Simon was going to say to him, in the seconds before he got shot. He thought it might’ve been a confession, or maybe something else. If it was a confession after all however, Y/N would have been more than happy to confess right back.

Y/N was still in his bloodied and snowy military gear, when someone walked up to him and handed him a change of clothes. He looked up, only to see the somber face of Captain Price. “Hey… gotcha some clothes…” he said, sitting next to Y/N in the waiting room. “Thanks Price.” Y/N replies, his tone was sad and monotone. He stood up and headed the hospital bathroom.

He peeled himself out of his military gear, the blood from Simon had caused it to stick like glue to Y/N’s already frozen body. He had a quick shower, just stood under the water until the blood was gone from his torso and forearms. He got changed into the clothes Price had brought him, a simple pair of cargo trousers, a shirt and a thick jumper. He put it all on and as he went to leave, he caught his reflection in the mirror. His face had a very distinct blood splatter across it. One that happens when someone is shot. Not only was there blood all over his face, it was all down his neck and arms and… it was… spreading? Y/N started to panic, breath immediately turning frantic and all his senses heightened. He grabbed some tissues and when he turned back to himself in the mirror, all the blood had gone. Y/N calmed down, but he knew he was slipping.

He sat in the waiting room with Captain Price for many more hours. They arrived at midnight, and the sun was already on its way down again when Y/N received news that Simon would thankfully be okay. He practically sprinted down the corridor to Simon’s hospital room in the trauma centre, not bothering to wait for Price. When he saw Simon in the hospital bed, all hooked up with wires everywhere, ventilators, heartbeat monitors. He felt overwhelmed. Simon of course was in a coma, injury too damaging to stay awake. Y/N pulled up a chair and sat by his bed.

A week later, Y/N had visited Simon everyday. He sat by his bed, usually in silence but occasionally talking to him. He couldn’t bear not seeing him. The hospital room as relatively small, seeming even smaller due to the amount of machines keeping Simon alive. There was one small bathroom and opposite the entrance was a large window that took up most of the wall space. As 1 week turned into 2, then to 3 and then a month, less machines were needed for recovery and Y/N was able to sit on the hospital bed with Simon. He still visited everyday, staying until opening hours all the way to closing hours… never leaving Simon’s side.

One day when Y/N was visiting Simon, he had just got back from the gym. He had started going more often, to bring back some sense of normalcy into his life. Also in the back of his mind, it was to ensure if that if anything like this happened again he’d be able to carry someone faster. He was sat with Simon and felt himself growing tired. He rested his head on the edge of the bed and fell asleep. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep like this, but this time something… happened.

He felt a strong hand grip the back of his head and force his head up. He made eye contact with Simon, who was now awake. Simon’s eyes were wild and bloodshot, slight glazed over too. His face was contorted by pure rage and his face was covered in his own blood. “You should’ve ran faster.” Simon said, in the most terrifying and threatening voice Y/N had ever heard. Y/N pryed away from him, backpedaling in fear. Simon followed however, ripping out the wires and tubes he was hooked up to causing blood to rush from his arms. Y/N fell to the floor in fear of this uncanny man in front of him, he didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, Simon raised his fist as if he was going to punch Y/N. Y/N instinctively looked away, as to avoid the pain and the hit.

But… the hit never came. Y/N looked back at the hospital bed, only to see Simon hooked up to the machines and in the same position he was always in. Simon hadn’t moved, but Y/N had. He was cowering on the floor, believing he was about to be hit by the man he had feelings for. “What the fuck is happening to me…” Y/N whispered to himself. He stood up, walked back over to Simon and looked over every inch of him. He was trying to convince himself that what he saw did actually happen, but he knew deep down it did not. He was being driven insane. Driven insane by guilt, driven insane by the constant images of Simon being shot, driven insane by the never ending feeling that he was still running in those snowy woods. He left the hospital early that day, the first time in the month and half that Simon had been staying there.

Y/N drove straight to base. Walked straight to Captain Prices’ office. And told him what happened straight up. “Y/N what do you mean? The hospital would’ve called us immediately if he woke up.” Price said, still confused. “He didn’t wake up. I- I just.. I saw him moving in.. in my head!” Y/N answered, growing more frantic. “So you… hallucinated? You hallucinated Simon blaming you, son?” Price asked, his fatherly instincts really started to kick in after he saw how frantic Y/N had become. “I- Yeah! Yeah that’s what I saw..” As Y/N said this, he began to panic more. “Look, Simon won’t blame you. He doesn’t, blame you I mean. You saved his life Y/N! If anything, he will love you for that.” As these words left Price’s mouth, something new clicked in Y/N’s head. He began explaining to Price all his thoughts, all his feelings and how he felt about Simon. Price had an effect on people, he made them feel safe. Which is what he was doing now, making Y/N feel safe enough to share his thoughts.

Price and Y/N spoke for many hours into the night. It was mostly about Y/N’s feelings for Simon, which as a result of what happened managed to manifested itself into hallucinations. Y/N had such strong feelings for Simon, that he blamed himself for everything that took place that horrific day in the snowy forest… overlooking that beautiful view. Price helped Y/N realise that it wasn’t his fault. None of what happened, was ever his fault. He did his best to save Simon and he did. Simon is alive and breathing. Y/N did his job as a lover and as a friend immaculately. The night was a wild ride of emotions, but in the end it was good. After talking through his feelings with someone he trusted, Y/N felt better. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew he wasn’t 100% okay, but he knew that just one conversation was a step in the right direction to being better. It would take awhile, but it would all be worth it in the end.

Y/N continued to visit Simon in the hospital for the next month until he finally woke up. That day, when Y/N got the call… it may have been the happiest moment of his life. He drove there so fast that there might as well of been fire coming off of his tires. He sprinted down the corridor, turned into Simon’s room and saw him. He was sat up, eyes open and the second he saw Y/N, a smile appeared on his face.

“The nurse said you visited me everyday.” Simon said, in a playful teasing tone but his voice was definitely weak after waking up. “Everyday for 2 months and 17 days.” Y/N said as a smile of his own grew and sat on Simon’s bed right next to him. “You care that much huh?” Simon chuckled. “More than you know.” Y/N answered, chuckling as well. The nurses did a few more check ups on Simon, before leaving the room to give them some privacy. They spoke about random things for a while, such as how the other Task Force members were doing, how things were at base and others things like that. When suddenly, Simon spoke up after a pause.

“That day… right before I got shot… I was- I was gonna tell you something.” Simon said, nerves building in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah?” Y/N responded, secretly glad Simon had brought this topic back up. “You know me, I’m not- great, with the whole emotions thing.” Simon said with a small chuckle. “I just- I guess what I’m trying to say is… I like you, Y/N. Not just as friends, I mean I like you.” Simon’s nerves were now at an all time high, the heartbeat monitor giving that away immediately. He waited anxiously, but all worries suddenly melted away when he saw the blush on Y/N’s face. “I have had.. a lot of time to think about how I feel towards you while you were in the coma. I have come to realise… I like you too.”

At with those words alone, Simon weakly lifted an arm up to Y/N’s cheek and held his face. Y/N leaned down and gently pressed his lips on Simon’s. When they finally touched, it was like nothing else mattered. The feelings were indescribable, but one thing was for sure… they were both very, very happy.

(Little PSA from me: If you ever feel like you are struggling with your mental health do your best to reach out to someone you trust. If you feel like you don’t have that, remember there are always places online you can call, text or even email. I encourage anyone who is struggling to reach out. You are not alone and there is always someone who will listen. ❤️)

#call of duty #fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #male reader #mlm #simon riley x reader #gay #gay men #mental health #mental heath awareness

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underqualified-human · 2 years

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Heath Burns x son of pestilence

→ Request: Adhfssff I’m starved for content so please considering the following: a one shot of Heath Burns falling for the son of Pestilence. Basically Too much energy x No energy

→ A/N: Shoutout to this Anon for kickstarting my four horsemen obsession. Also if anyone wants to know where I got the pickup lines from → https://parade.com/1039985/marynliles/pick-up-lines/

→ Warnings:

→ Fandom: Monster High

→ Genre: Oneshot

→ Word Count: 408

→ Pronouns: He/Him

Being a monster had its perks for some. Werewolves were strong, vampire's lived long lives and ghosts had their wide array of abilities. Yet it seemed like being the son of one of the four horsemen was nothing but trouble.

There were reasons most monsters avoided you.

The flies and rats that followed you everywhere, the fact that plants always seemed to rot when you walked past. (Your friendship with Venus made this all the more awkward.)

At least the horses seemed to like you.

There weren't many reasons for anyone to approach you, yet Heath seemed to find any excuse in the book.

You’d been tending to the horses (gloves and mask on, of course) when a ball rolled into the stable. Heath came running in, nearly falling into one of the hay bales in the process.

He quickly grabbed the ball and turned to run off, only to see you.

“So, aside from being handsome, what do you do for a living?” He said, leaning against one of the stalls.

“I go to school.” You said in confusion.

“Oh, uh, cool.” He ran out of the horse barn and back toward the casketball court.

You’d expected the interactions to stop there, but they didn't. In the following days it seemed like Heath followed you around everywhere. He’d always be excitedly talking about his day, or asking you questions about yours. He’d even started to ask about your family.

It was nice to have someone to talk to. You had Venus, but it was fun to have someone new to talk to. Some new who wasn’t afraid of you.

“I think someone has an admirer.” Venus said one day during lunch.

You swatted away a small group of flies from your food, “Who?”

“Duh, Heath likes you.” She said, exasperated.

“I like him too.” You said, quickly taking a bite of your lunch before the rats could steal any.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Heath walked up to the both of you.

“I have to go do something,” Venus said as she walked off.

“Do you happen to have a Band-Aid? ‘Cause I scraped my knees falling for you.”

“You fell down the stairs again didn't you?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah- anyway. Do you want to go on a date?” He asked, almost crushing one of the rats as he sat down across from you.

“Really? Sure” You said.

“Yes!” He fistbumped the air.

#aries writing #monster high #monster high x reader #heath burns #heath burns x reader #mh x reader #mh #monster high fanfiction #monster high heath #male reader #x male reader

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kaiispost · 1 year

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I need more neymar m4m fanfic's i'm dying pls 💗

Don’t mind me using this ask but, I’m really trying but I’m not doing well. I’m currently writing a Neymar x male reader smut but it’s going terrible and it’s super cringe and I know that I’ll get hella hate for it. Since “he’s not for the guys” according to a hater. And in my current state I can’t deal with hate.

Love y’all and stay safe ❤️🌎

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charm6997 · 10 months

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt Simon "Ghost" Riley, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mood Swings Summary:

Jasper is a long time friend of Ghost's , and knows when he is having an off mental day , once he helps Ghost get settled into doing something comforting. He will stay with Ghost no matter what , even if he fights with Ghost , and he storms off space will be given and then Jasper will go and look for him. Writing something new and so first post on AO3 .....

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost x oc #mental heath awareness #hurt ghost #ghost x male reader #hurt/comfort #archive of my own #gay #mxm #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #orginal character

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famwhy · 8 months

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"Do you have any idea how long I've waited..."

"...for this moment?"

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Yandere! Rodrick Heffley X F!Reader

Synopsis: Rodrick Heffley couldn't believe his own luck; you noticed him—you noticed him. This must've been fate, right? You must've loved him, there was no way you didn't. And if you loved him, then what he was doing was okay, right?—there was nothing wrong with it? Of course not, after all, you two were going to get married in the future, he was sure of it! All of this would just turn out to be a silly story you would tell your future kids about how you two first met. Yeah, that's all this was—one big, silly story.

Warnings: Mean!Reader, Depictions of toxic relationships, Stalking

"Dude, you're staring again."

Rodrick knew; he knew that he was staring again. But, how could he not? How could he not stare when the most drop-dead gorgeous girl in school was within just 10 feet of him?—when you were right there, before his very own eyes?

So close, and yet, so far.

"Dude!"

You stood by your locker—lips painted in that really pretty shade of cherry red to match with your striking eyeliner—basically demanding everyone's undivided attention; attention which you undoubtedly got.

Though, even if you—by some chance in this fucked up world—didn't receive that attention, Rodrick wouldn't hesitate to give it to you; Rodrick would give all of that attention times ten to you. Hell, if you so much as asked him for it, Rodrick would give you the world.

"Hey!"

He was melting—he knew he was—turning into putty at your very arms, even if they weren't anywhere near him. Regardless, his bones morphed into mush and his face went as red as the lipstick you adorned on that pretty mouth of yours he longed to get a taste of.

He could gaze at you for days and never get enough.

What he couldn't gaze at for days, however, was what occurred next.

A pair of strong arms sprung out of nowhere, wrapping around your torso and lifting you into the air in a way that had molten lava coursing through the Heffley's veins, heating up his insides and igniting a fire within; a fire that ached to burn the male adorning a bright, varsity jacket beside you.

His eyes narrowed, teeth grinding over one another and skin losing all hints of previous colour, going as blank as an empty canvas sat aboard an abandoned easel at the sight before him.

That man—Lenwood Heath—oh how Rodrick loathed him; despised the very air he breathed; cursed the very home he inhabited. If the ground you strutted over was worshipped by the aspiring musician, then the ground that Lenwood trudged over was spat on by him.

Oh, how he could just picture it now, wrapping his hands around the neck of that pathetic, little—

"Heffley!"

Rodrick blinked, suddenly able to register the hand waving before his very eyes. "Huh?"

The blurry form in front of him quickly grew clear with a couple more blinks, revealing one of his best friends with a brow raised, lips pulled taut, and a pointed look on his face. "You fazed out staring at her again."

A longing sigh left the lips of the drummer. "Can you blame me, Chris? She's just so... so..."

"Hot?"

"Ethereal," Rodrick smiled, tunnel vision drowning out the dumb teen next to you in favour of only seeing you. "She'll love me one day, I know it."

"Dude—" Chris deadpanned, "—she doesn't even know you exist."

"Uh, yeah she does," responded the other musician, "Of course she knows I exist."

Chris' lips pulled up after that, and—even through his peripheral—Rodrick could see the smugness radiating off his friend's smirk. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Walk over there right now and say hi."

"What do you think this is? Some high school drama? I'm not doing that."

"Alright dude," came the voice of his friend again, taking on a bit of a defeated tone this time, "just tryna help you build up your confidence, that's all."

Rodrick's face scrunched up, now turning to fully face his friend and fellow band member. "My confidence is—"

A light 'ahem' cut through the air.

The Heffley whipped his head to the side—brows furrowing and lips parting in preparation for a sassy speech—when he saw just who exactly was clearing their throat at him.

His breath audibly hitched in his throat, wind getting stuck in his pipe—hindering his ability to respire as his vision flooded with that familiar pink he knew all too well.

"Do you mind?" The question came out your pretty lips with an air of both boredom and your own bit of sass—both fists placed upon your hips as you stared at him pointedly.

Oh, you stared at him—you were staring at him.

Holy shit.

He didn't know what to do; what to say; what to think. His mind was a muddled-up mess with you sat in the middle of it all—in the eye of the storm, occupying your throne within his thoughts while the rest of his head went to shit.

But, the real you, the one stood before him right now, was quickly growing impatient. He could tell from the way you started tapping your foot against the ground in a quick rhythm—one of your cuter habits, he noticed; not that they weren't all cute.

A huff—escaping your lips; exasperated and very much fed-up. He was losing you.

No, no, no, no, no.

His eyes widened, pupils shaking as his breath grew quicker and shorter and sharper. A tightness grew about his chest, contracting his lungs—folding them in on themselves—and tensing his muscles to the point they turned into multiple ropes that unfairly seized him by the throat.

He was panicking, and so—as any panicking person would do—said the first thing that popped into his head—

"Y/N."

—it was your name, of course. That was always at the forefront of his mind.

You scrunched up your nose in that super cute way that you do before speaking again—tone sounding a little... judgemental—"Do I know you?"

A harsh jab to his side and a pair of smug eyes burning a hole through his head followed after that sentence. Annoying.

With a quick glare directed straight at Chris, Rodrick rose his right arm to rub the left—as if to get rid of the lingering buzz of pain left in his friend's wake—before devoting his full attention back to you. "It's uh, Heffley—Rodrick Heffley?"

You narrowed your eyes, staring at him a little incredulously now—but he didn't mind, so long as you were staring at him and not past him, he didn't mind at all. Rodrick was on cloud nine anytime you gave him just an inch of attention, be it good or bad.

Everything about you was just so—

"Wait..." Rodrick blinked—today must've been his lucky day because you were gracious enough to greet him with lit up eyes once you broke through his thoughts. So pretty. "Heffley as in the same Heffley who destroyed Heather Hills' Sweet Sixteen?"

He grimaced a little at the memory, but nodded nonetheless.

Your lips quirked up—by God, please place them on his—

"Y'know, I've been meaning to thank you for that..."

"Thank, uh—thank me?" Dear lord, he could feel his own heartbeat drumming against his ears.

"Yeah, thanks to you, I was able to take Hills' throne." A glint reflected off your beautiful eyes after you said that but Rodrick was too busy admiring your everything to decipher what it was. Was that a new pair of shoes? They suited you.

His eyes snapped back up to your face when a sudden warmth coated both of his shoulders, a familiar hand making its way into his peripheral. "Yup, that's my buddy."

Your eyes briefly left the dark-haired male's form to flit over to his companion, and he found himself grinding his teeth against one another just as he had done before; the pink in his gaze quickly being replaced by a heated crimson.

But, as quick as the overwhelming urge to slam his own friend against the wall came—to rip his very skin off and watch as blood flowed straight out of him—it was gone—just in time for your eyes to return to the Heffley and send another explosion of those pretty, little insects to attack his insides and fill him with so much warmth, he found himself wishing to share it with you—

—God, please let him share it with you.

"Can you move now? I need to get to class."

"Oh, uh, right." He damn-near stumbled over himself in order to make way for you, harshly shoving Chris to the side too—and if he could, he would've rolled out a red carpet for you as well. Your precious feet deserved more than the filthy school floor.

"Ack! Dude!"

Rodrick paid no mind to his friend's scowling form beside him—choosing, instead, to train his gaze onto your figure as it slowly grew smaller the further you walked away.

For a moment, as you brushed passed him, an overwhelming cherry scent flooded his nose, coursing through his innards to roll his eyes towards the back of his head and whisk him up into the air so that he could sit upon a cloud as high as the earth would allow; as high as you would allow.

But, of course, not higher than you—never higher than you.

"She loves me—" Rodrick smiled; dopey and wide, "—I just know it."

"Whatever you say, dude."

'Whatever he says'? No, this was written in the stars. This was the epitome of fate; of destiny woven upon the finest of silks and stored in the most beautiful of halls—indestructible and unalterable.

This was love—true love.

And you knew it too—you must've. Why else would you have approached him the way you had?

And it's because of your reciprocated feelings, that Rodrick felt perfectly fine with leaning forward in his seat next period—right up to the back of your neck—and taking another huge whiff that knocked him straight out of commission.

"The hell are you doing, Heffley?!"

A voice snapped him out of his appreciation time—cruelly ripping him away from his blissful state of basking in your glory and forcing him to look over to his side.

Lenwood.

Rodrick rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to kick his shoes atop his desk and rest his hands behind his head as he said, "Nothing."

The jock narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing as he parted his lips—gearing up for a threat, no doubt—when another voice cut through the air.

"Something the matter, Mr Heath?"

The jock quickly muttered out a denial before turning to face forward again.

Rodrick smirked.

"Mr Heffley, feet off the table please."

He rose his brows but said nothing, choosing to obey quietly—if only to have the opportunity to stay in the same room as you for just a little while longer.

Speaking of you, the commotion seemed to have caught your attention, because you spun around in your seat, eyes landing solely on his figure for the second time that day.

His breath hitched. It was definitely meant to be.

It stayed like that for a few moments, the two of you just staring at one another as the world dissipated into irrelevance around you. Your beautiful, E/C pools were enough for him to get lost in for hours—just as beguiling as the rest of you was.

Alas, the moment couldn't last forever, and you shattered it with the tug of your lips downwards alongside the cute scrunch of your nose before spinning back around with the elegance of a ballroom dancer.

Ah, he could stare at you all day and never get enough.

He said that already, didn't he? Oh well, it deserved to be reiterated if the subject it was referring to was you.

Today had been a good day—one that he was sure would only end up getting better with the upcoming pep rally in a few periods time. An excuse to devote his entire attention to you without getting weird or judgemental looks? Yes please.

Though, to be entirely honest, he didn't care for those looks. He was too busy hoping, wishing, praying to be the one you woke up next to in the morning; the one whose embrace you cuddled into and found comfort within; the one who'd get to spend the rest of his life with you—

—God, please let him spend the rest of his life with you.

He couldn't help it—staring at you with the intensity he had during your cheer session once the pep rally did come around.

Your lashes fluttered prettily as you peered up at the stands, hands covered by the balls you adorned and lips jutting out in that perfect pout that he just wanted to completely devour—

Ah, his throat was feeling a little dry. Just another effect you had on him.

Unfortunately, he had to part from the stands for a few moments to go grab himself a drink but, for you—his darling pretty girl—he made sure to rush back as soon as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, this speed of his meant that he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, and not paying much attention to his surroundings could only lead to one thing: an incident.

The can in his hands slid straight out of his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud 'crash!' as liquid scattered the area, still bubbling and fizzing up even out of its container. A pair of white shoes seeped into brown at the end, and Rodrick found himself trailing the legs adorning them upwards, eyes falling upon a white skirt stained in the same brown that was slathered over the floor.

His gaze kept going upwards, only stopping when they met with an infuriated pair of dazzling eyes narrowed back at him; a familiar, infuriated pair of dazzling eyes.

"Ugh! What the fuck did you do, you freak?! You ruined my outfit! No wonder why Heather fucking hates you!"

No, no, no, no.

He was sorry, he was so sorry. Just don't hate him, please forgive him. God, he didn't know what he'd do with himself if you didn't forgive him.

He wanted to beg for your forgiveness—grovel on his knees and hold onto you like his fucking lifeline—but you were ushered into the toilet by those... friends of yours before he even had the chance, and he was left there, eyes wide as his whole body trembled.

Make it up to you. He had to make it up to you

But how could he when you were constantly surrounded by people who got in his way?—when you both were?

First Lenwood, then his own friend, and now, your friends.

Where could he get you completely and utterly alone?—when it could just be the two of you?

That was when it struck him, and his feet started moving before the cogs in his head even could.

He arrived before you—bathroom trips always took awhile when it came to you and your posse, so he didn't have to worry about you being faster than him.

Setting up wasn't too hard either, he knew where everything was and also learned enough from his dad about women to know how to woo one back into loving you.

All he had to do... was wait for you.

And wait he did. It felt like years had passed as he stood shrouded in darkness, each second as agonising and torturous as the last—if not, more so. But it was worth the wait—you were worth the wait—and soon, the sound of the door opening was accompanied by a loud yell.

"Mom! I'm home!"

Silence.

"Mom?!"

Again. Nothing.

"Fucking—of course."

His lips tugged down, heart practically being pulled on by the words that spilled from your mouth.

Yeah, sure it was convenient that your mom was never home, but he couldn't help the way he cursed the woman who gave birth to such an amazing being but didn't have the heart to properly stick around and bring her up.

But nevermind that, he could hear thuds growing closer to him.

A click. Then a flip. Then—

"What the actual fuck?!"

Rodrick grinned, arms opening wide as his heart picked up in both pace and volume, drumming against his ears like he often would his set in band practice. "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

"Heffley?! What are you doing in my house?!"

Your eyes were wide, pupils shaking as your muscles lost their strength and your bag went tumbling down. Aw, you must've been happy to see him.

"I wanted to apologise," said he, "for earlier."

You blinked, still staring at him with that cute expression sewn onto your face.

For a few moments, nothing was said, and Rodrick found himself lowering his hands to awkwardly clear his throat.

Then, you spoke again, "Heffley, get... get out of my house."

"No."

"No..?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment?" As he spoke, he started slowly approaching you, and you started slowly backing away.

"Heffley..."

"No need for that anymore, babe." His smile grew wider and his cheeks grew hotter as the wall blocked you from moving any further—allowing the distance between the two of you to grow... shorter. "Just call me Rodrick, or honey, if you'd prefer."

"You're crazy..."

He could feel your breath now, right up against his skin. It was perfect, and only proved to send shivers down his spine. "It's okay, babe, no one's here now. It's just you and me. You can speak your mind without worrying about anyone else. Go on, tell me you love me."

Your features scrunched up at that, teeth grinding against one another as you spat, "I don't love you, psycho."

"Uh, yeah you do." He dismissed your words with a wave. "It's okay to admit you're in love."

"I'm not, you psycho. I barely know you."

Ah, you could be so cruel sometimes.

"Sure you do. You know me just like I know you—" another whiff, "—and how I know this is your favourite scent."

You were shaking much more violently now, body leaning up against the wall for support in a way that made him envy it—all this effort to get to where he was and your wall got more attention than he did? Absolutely not.

He looped an arm around the curve of your waist, basking in the way they fit together as perfectly as puzzle pieces, before pulling you into his chest and taking another deep inhale.

And just like that, you went limp in his arms.

Oh well, at least now he got to carry out his fantasy of being the one that got to wake up next to you.

Omg guys, I acc feel so bad for turning Rodrick into a creep in this, he's such a cutie in the movies.

#yandere #x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere male x female reader #yandere x you #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #yandere rodrick heffley

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months

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How about a human womans gets pregnant with a yautja (They are probably in a lab). The male escapes and takes her back to his clan and hands her off to the females of the clan. And instead of falling in love with the male, the sire of the unborn pup. the human womans gets together with another female who is teaching the ways of the yautja. Maybe the male stops by here n there...

Lose Yourself

Pairings: Male Yautja x AFAB!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 4039

Summary: Four concrete walls have been your sight for the last year. Caregivers and doctors see you every day to ensure your heath. Then three months ago, they introduced you to him. A creature not from this world that you can tell. He does not speak but the two of you have an understanding and one another.

Author Note: When this popped up in my feed, I started to bounce off of the walls like a crazed animal. I love this idea so much. In the future, I would love to write out a whole story like this. For now, I'm just going to do at least two parts, maybe three for this.

Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

Blaring sirens jolt you back into reality. Your heart instantly leaps into your throat and lodges itself there. The whites of your eyes clear even in the limited light of the dingy cell you dared to call home.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your knees and carefully watched the only entrance and exit to this singular, minute room. The alarm meant something. Terrible things. Nothing ever good came from it. Your head was plastered to the tops of your knees as you observed for any incoming threat.

This wasn’t a horrible life. Three meals a day; seen by doctors – or at least what looked to be doctors – practically every day; clothing on your body. But the fact you weren’t allowed to leave the room unless they wanted you or you didn’t have anything to stimulate your brain. Just an animal on the verge of insanity, forced to be driven there with no relief.

The people who keep you locked in here are the only people you are able to interact with. It’s one sided. You lost your will to try and gain any words besides the casual ‘how are you feeling today?’ from them. They might mix it up after some time but it was always the same doctor-patient relationship.

Out of everything here though, what caught your attention was the thing they brought you to a few times before. Everything about him is locked down and sealed tight from both sides. Not even a name from the lumbering giant.

From the limited times you’ve got to interact with him, you’ve learned he wasn’t a nice character. At first, he had nearly torn you apart before he had jerked to a stop. Akin to a horrified look passed over his alien features and he backed away. After that day, he’s been reasonable to be around. For some reason, your ‘caregivers’ love to know how you interact with him or what he’ll do if… you were some sort of danger.

Not the most protective creature, he’ll snarl and growl if the guards are too rough with you. His chains prevent him from doing anything physical. Once you are completely alone with him though, the chains that keep him locked to the wall are slackened. He’s now allowed to move about the vicinity as he seems fit.

Move he does. He stalks, prowls around the room, searching for any way for escape. They way he moves gives you the hint he’s this predator, like a lion hunting its prey. When you watch him, you admire him and prowess.

Wishful thinking makes you pray for him to find a weakness and escape from this horrid place. The chains on his wrists are more than tight. It’s daily occurrence blood drips from cuts. He tries to hide it, obscure it from sight but the eyes are the window to the soul. You are able to read his pain, every wince when the chains rub just a hair too much. You worry about him, this creature that was no human.

The first time he allowed you to touch him was a miracle. When the session was over, you were immediately yanked from the premises and shoved into a different room. Your caregivers began to berate and demand answers on why he was allowing you such contact. As the clueless person you are, you just shrugged your shoulders.

That night, they left you with a few more bruises than usual.

The door swung open and revealed a guard and a caregiver. Same protocols as always. You were taken from your room and swiftly led further down to what you believed to be the lowest level of this complex. The entire way there, you were compliant and willing. You’ve done your fair share of fighting, everything in your power to leave this place.

But it never worked. It wasn’t truly accepting your fate but going along the motions. Your mind has long grown numb, completely stale to everything. It needed stimulation but no one offered that.

A quick shove had you toppling onto your hands and knees. A loud snarl and rattling chains, metal creaking from tremendous amount of weight thrown against echoed in the limited space. You hissed at the new wounds on your knees and whipped your head up.

Though weakened from lack of food and proper exercise, the alien was straining against the shortened chains. His blazing eyes were on you, taking in everything your caregivers did to you.

With a click, the thick steel door latched shut and trapped you in here with him. You sighed and stood back up while taking a glance behind you. The only entrance to the room sealed off until they choose to retrieve you. Until then, you calmly walked over to the ashen, grey alien and sat down close by. A respectful amount of space placed between the two of you.

Two more clicks entered the air. The chains that once locked him to the wall slackened and allowed the predator free range.

He instantly stalked over to you and knelt down. You picked up your head to find his eyes still on your sitting form. His gaze flicked down to your scrapped knees.

Those strange mandibles of his, or fangs could be a better word, didn’t offer any lips to form words. Not English at least. He seems to speak in his own but neither of you could truly understand one another in words. Instead, gestures got you farther in this strange friendship you’ve created with him. He was the only being in this forsaken place to offer niceties.

You reached to the fresh wound. Blood already dotted the scrapped skin. Nothing that cried for a bandage. Not that you would get in the end. “It’s alright,” you reassured him and threw a thumbs up at him. A sign he’s learned meant everything was fine.

He hovered still and stayed sat on his haunches at your side. A little unusual for the predator always on the move. When he was with you, ninety percent of the time he is prowling the given space and observing the door. You didn’t need to be told he was searching for his escape.

One animal, spirit lost to the solidarity.

Another animal, always moving, always searching.

It didn’t take further than five more seconds for your gaze to drop and head to lean against the cool wall. It was colder in this room than even the halls that lead to here. You’ve pondered the reasons but have never come up with something concrete.

Warmth cupped your cheek and tilted your head back up to the only figure in this room. Your jaw dropped at the touch, eyes widening while you could only stare at the alien.

Once he found your eyes, he leaned in, diverted slightly to the side, and placed his alien mouth next to your ear. “I will get us out of here,” he whispered barely a fraction over his breath. You gasped in reaction, ready to spew questions when his thumb pressed against your lips. The words died in your throat before they could become sound.

Then, he nuzzled his mandibles to the crook of your neck and pulled back. The whole interaction had you puzzled but slightly scared shitless. Thise sharp fangs so close to your throat, knowing they could rip it out if he wanted. But instead, he promised your escape.

Escape.

It was like he offered you a sack of gold as a peasant.

“Please,” you murmured back and against the pad of his thumb. He grunted then stood up. The chains rattled at the movement and clacked against the ground. You saw the way his hands twitched at his sides when the sharp edge dug into his already sore flesh. Thick, raised scars would be left in its wake. That, you were sure of.

The alien moved away from you and began his pacing. It was the same pathing he always took. He looked high and low. You stayed there on the ground despite it hurting your lower back and watched him. As he moved, the hope that bubbled inside of your chest began to dwindle. Maybe he didn’t have a plan just yet or even the start of one.

You missed the feeling of the sun on your skin, the smell of fresh air. Freedom. That’s the base core you craved the most while in the pits of this place. You had no plans for escape. It didn’t look like he did either.

A hand ran through your knotted locks and started to work out the small rats' nests growing. He had spoken to you. Spoke English. After all the times you’ve been in contact with him, he finally speaks up and says that. But why did he say it so quietly?

Your eyes darted around the room, hiding behind your lashes. Four cameras. They left no space unseen. Did he not want anyone to know he could speak your language? I huffed and drew your knees while resting your chin on them.

Another click drew you from well of your thoughts. A sound you’ve heard before. The chains began to sucked back into the wall and dragged the struggling alien back to his original place. You watched with a sorrowful gaze, knowing every pull cut deeper into his forever bleeding cuts.

Before he could officially trapped back to the wall, he lunged at you and trapped your now quiver form to him. His body was a few degrees warmer than the room itself. The textured scales that covered him from head to toe rubbed against your back. You gave a yelp and struggled at first but stopped, hoping he wouldn’t harm you after all this time.

The first time you met flashing in your mind. What had stopped him?

His grasp on you wasn’t harsh or demanding, but firm, not allowing you slip away from him. The claws that tipped his fingers looked they could gut you like a fish. Yet, he ensured they didn’t dig into your skin.

The chains stopped once he was pulled to the wall but with you still in grasp. The door was ripped open and in poured seven heavily armed soldiers, guns directed at the two of you. You screamed and tucked into his chest and seek protection from the only friendly figure here. His arms tightened around in a secure manner. A deep rumbled beginning to grow from the depths of his chest.

In walked the main caregiver for you and him. You submissively bowed your head, afraid to look her in the eye and feel her wrath; or be knocked out and wake up in pain again.

The woman wearing a white coat looked down her nose at your meek form then gazed up at the predator trapping you. “You won’t hurt her,” she stated with a voice honeyed and sweet. How could she be so sure of something unknown? Even you didn’t know what his intentions were.

Warm, callused finger ensnared your throat. Your heart jumping and thumping against the digits holding your life. A whimper breaking free of your cracked, cry lips. The arm still wrapped around your torso tightened but the hand rubbed the area behind your back. You inhaled sharply and slackened in his hold.

She marched forward and only left a space between her and you that dared him to take the lunge. “It’s against your honor code, isn’t it?” Your brows furrowed at the new information, unsure of what this ‘honor code’ entailed but hoped it truly meant he won’t kill you.

He growled and sent vibrations up your spine. Goosebumps were left in its wake. You shuttered and pressed yourself more into him.

Harsh, vile clicks and snarls sounded from his alien throat as he spat alien words at the doctor. An unamused gaze fell on her face while the grey creature said his piece.

When the sounds ceased and he breathed heavily, she used a finger to wipe spit off of her face and flicked back at him. “Are you done?” she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Your kind is so predictable. Quick to surge with rage and believe themselves to be high and mighty. Not for much longer.” You wanted to somehow shrink even more against him but there was not even a molecule of space to take up.

“Now, hand over the subject and we’ll still feed you tonight. And if you don’t… well, that’s for me know and you to find out.” You shuttered at her words, hand finding his arm and squeezing it. He returned the action with his arm still wrapped around your torso.

An action she saw. Her posture sagged then she spun around and walked behind the seven soldiers. They were used as a wall of protection.

“Retrieve the subject. Don’t kill either of them. Harm is okay,” she gave the order you knew was about to occur. Your eyes instinctively shut as you prepare for bullets to begin flying.

A deafening roar rattled your brain. Metal snapped. The heat you were once pressed against was gone. The pure instinct to search it out strong before your brain could register the scene unfolding in front of your trembling form. Your feet glued to the spot.

Even though he’s lost some of his muscular physique, this lethal giant showed off his strength and prowess. He had already thrown one of the soldiers into a wall, a dent left in its wake. Another was meeting the business end of this predator… and loosing not only the fight but their life as well.

Blood sprayed across the ground in a terrifying arch. The ruby red a sight you weren’t prepared to see. His claws causing the damage to be dealt and valuable life essence to be spilled at your feet. The same claws that had been wrapped around neck so softly moments before.

Bright pops of light and ear-bleeding claps left you dizzy in where you stood. You stumbled back and rested your shoulder against the cool concrete wall. The scene before you continuing to unfold as if you didn’t even exist.

It swiftly became a blood bath. The seven soldiers she brought into here were desecration into nothing more than piles of shredded meat and bleeding blood bags on the ground.

The horror that morphed over her usually neutral face was satisfying to say in the least. The fact she wasn’t going to be able to step out of this room dawned upon her. You watched as the color drained from her face with each step backwards.

Unlike you, she was trapped and at the will of the alien that bore his gaze down on her. You may be pressed against the wall like her, but you were safe, not afraid of him spinning around and mistaking you as one of them. You knew it in your heart he was following through with his promise. You’ll see the light of day again, breathe the fresh air of the day. Strangely enough, you felt giddy.

“You can’t do this! I’m unarmed!” she screamed at him and pointed a trembling finger at the grey alien. What’s with that? Does it have to do with this ‘honor code’ she spoke about before?

Oh, but he could. In a terrifying millisecond, your eyes couldn’t register what had truly happened. Her body laid motionless at the feet of the lumbering alien. Her back faced you, her head was turned towards you. The cold, lifeless blue eyes of hers stared blankly, unfocused.

Dead.

You released a shuttering breath and timidly looked at him. Said creature stood back to his full height and rolled his dense shoulders. The muscles that lined his shoulders and back rippling at the motion.

Then, the alien spun on his heel and marched over to you. For a scared shitless moment, you best believed you were about to receive the same treatment. What stopped him from doing so?

He came to a stop before you and offered you a hand. “We are getting out.” Words of English were rumbled at you. Your eyes flicked down to the open palm. The freedom you begged for since the day you arrived here was standing before you. Not in a form you were expecting.

You took his hand.

One moment, the ground was touching the bottom of your feet. The very next, your legs had to wrap around a wide frame, arms snug around his throat. His back to your chest. He patted your forearm. “Hold on tight. Do not let go,” he ordered then marched towards the door.

It was closed, still sealed. What was he going to do about that?

That had to a be stupid thought after watching him massacre the entire room. Clearly he had an idea, some plan to get you two out of here. As much as you hated to this, it gutted you, you trusted him fully to release you from this prison.

Carefully, he crouched down and grabbed a key card from a pocket of the doctor. Red from his hands smeared onto the thin piece of plastic. He held it up to a small area next to the door.

With a whoosh, the door opened. The moment it did. All the white lights suddenly flashed to red. A horrifying screech entered the air before going into a low pitch then back up. It continued to do this while he carried him and you into the hall.

His head whipped side to side, thoughts determining which way to go. You perked up at this and motioned for him to go left. “The stairs are next to the elevator,” you reasoned with him. He grunted and began to full on sprint in the given direction. This hundreds of pound of flesh barreled down the hallway like a semi-truck. Nothing could stop him unless he wanted to stop.

A ninety degree came up. The alien just slid and used an arm to keep himself from slamming into the wall. He continued on. You buried your face into his neck, ignoring the strange rubbery dreads that slapped against your head and face with each of his steps.

The hallway led him to the necessary door. He didn’t even try the handle when he full on kicked it down. The metal screeched as it was torn from the hinges and laid to rest at the bottom of the stairs. With that out of the way, he leaped easily over it and took three steps at a time.

The alarm still blared its horrible tune and forced a headache to pound inside of your skull. You whined and scrunched your nose, unable to relieve yourself of the noise.

Over the noise, you heard the tall tell sign of thundering footsteps. You tensed up, breath shuddering and catching in your throat. In reaction, you go to open your mouth and speak of the discovery. A single finger was held up in your line of sight. You closed your trap and hunkered back down.

He launched himself up a flight of stairs and crashed into something hard. Gunfire sounded less than ten feet away. A bullet never hits you as he powered through a sea of bodies. You kept yourself locked onto his back like a monkey for dear life. You don’t know if he would come back for you if you were to fall off. Or if a soldier may just kill you to solve half of their problems.

Warm, slightly substance latched onto your arms. You shuttered, already coming to the conclusion of what it is.

Dying, horrified screams echoed off the halls. They decreased in amount and volume until the last one was silenced.

A new quiet filled the air besides the heavy breathing from the beast you clung to. Ringing echoed inside of your ears and worsened your headache. You groaned and clenched your hands into a tight fist.

He moved on.

You were brought back to reality as the warmth tinglingly the back of your neck and arms. Confused, you picked up your head and opened your eyes.

Bright light first had you flinching but powering through the pain. Sunlight greeted you. Its light painful at first but warmth more than welcomed. Your jaw dropped at the sight now before you.

A vessel… No. A space craft. A UFO. And it had to be his.

The alien didn’t stop moving across the short field that took him less than ten seconds to clear reach the feet of the ship. He slammed his fist against the belly of it. A screeching hiss entered the air.

A slab of metal began to peel itself away from the belly of the craft and angle one end towards the ground. The sight something you would see from Star Wars. You could only watch in amazement as the alien marched up the ramp. He rushed his way through the insides and took expert turns until he reached the cockpit. His feet skidded to a stop at a console and hands flying across the panels.

You pulled yourself up higher and watched. He pressed buttons and started the engines.

They rumbled to life under his feet. The ship waking up from an unknown amount of rest.

Hanging off of his back, you spotted movement through the glass window before you. A hoard of soldiers poured from the facility you had broken out of. A cold sweat dripped down the length of your spine at the sight. You tapped rapidly on his shoulder to gain his attention. “We’ve got company,” you warned, voice wavering.

The creature scoffed and turned his head enough to meet your eyes. “Not for long,” he answered. A smirk that you didn’t need to see was evident in his voice. He reached over and grabbed a throttle. Pressure was added to the stick.

Power was fed into the engines. Their sounds gaining in volume. You felt it before you noticed the fact the craft was starting to lift off the ground. The people rushing towards the two of you doubled their efforts as they began to grow smaller.

Something hit the roof and prevented the vessel from gaining anymore height. The creature just scoffed and added extra power to the engines.

Metal groaned and gave way. The ship returned to its form ascent into the sky. You release a sob of relief while the two of you continued to climb into the sky. The prison left behind as everyone could only watch your escape.

Once blue skies transitioned to black and sparkles shining through, he released the tension in his shoulders then patted your forearm. “You can get down now,” he said and knelt down. The warm metal floor touching the bottom of your bare feet. You finally relented your hold on him and stretched out your muscles. Soreness sunk into your muscles after clinging to him for so long.

He turned around to look at you fully. The two of you taking the other in without the constant pressure of being under watch and locked into a room.

A smile broke across your dirtied features. It was slow, a small dribble of happiness filling your veins before it became a rush. You pumped your fists into the air and gave a lungful cheer that echoed back at you. Damn that headache, you could care less about it when freedom was returned to you at last.

Close to the end of your excitement, an ear-piercing roar sounded with your call. You stopped abruptly and looked at the alien. His head was tipped back, fangs fully widened. You let the smile return and gave a hearty call again. You deserved it after all the shit you’ve endured while at the prison.

The roar died off. You cut yours as well and returned to studying him again. Despite not knowing who or what he was, you could trust him completely. He had fought off the advances of the soldiers and kept you safe. It was impossible in the moment to wipe off the smile on your face. You didn’t even dare to try and knew it would be futile.

Freedom at last.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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monstersandmaw · 5 months

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Holy moly, folks, this one was supposed to be a 3k word story, ready to post in the middle of the month, and (a bit like the last one which was 12k) it morphed into nearly 15k of feels and fun... oof. Thank you so much to those who reassured me on Discord that it was ok to take a few extra days to make sure it was something I was happy to post. I hope you enjoy Celann the grumpy werebear...

Let me also just briefly take this opportunity to thank you for returning to Patreon to support me and for joining up since I relaunched in October. It means the world to me that you value and enjoy my writing enough to pay to have access to it once a month. Really, I cannot tell you what it means to me for you to give me this income and independence. I tear up just trying to explain it, even in words.

Anyway, apologies for the delay! I wish you a very merry festive season, and hopefully there'll be another little Christmas bonus for you too, as per the poll from a while ago. May 2024 bring you every happiness and blessing, folks. And here's to many more stories and characters to share and enjoy.

Content: gender and body neutral reader who is a healer/surgeon, a thinly-disguised Roman Empire/Iron Age Britain setting, a secondary character is seriously injured (no super-gory descriptions, only a brief catalogue of her injuries), a big, gruff and reserved loner werebear, brief brush with hypothermia from the reader, some good old 'cuddling for warmth', and some penetrative sex later on too.

Wordcount: a whopping 14,585!

Castle Rise Outpost, in the extreme, northernmost reaches of the Republic’s ever-expanding territories, was hardly the most illustrious or auspicious posting you could have hoped for.

As you and your tired horse plodded along the sandy track over the region’s high, wind-blasted heath, your heart ached for every last mile that stretched between there and your warmer homeland. It all seemed so far behind you now, but this was a new start and a new adventure as the surgeon and healer attached to one of the Republic’s vast network of military outposts, and you were determined to make a good life of it.

Gods though, this place really was desolate.

On your right, away to the east where the light was fast fading, a dense forest of gnarled and mossy oak trees looked as though it was spilling down from the rolling hills and tumbling inexorably down into the valley in a wild, green tangle, and below the treeline, a fast-flowing river cut through the landscape in a dark and sinuous ribbon. The water was rich with tannins from the falling leaves in the forest, and as the ebbing light caught it, you thought ominously of the colour of blood. Behind the forest, as the afternoon darkened towards the deeper hue of an early autumn evening, the far off shape of the snow-capped Highlands lurked on the horizon; their shape now black and foreboding as the stage background of a mummer’s drama.

The commiserations of your fellow graduates from the medical academy in the capital now rang in your ears as the wind picked up and you tugged the thick, woollen cloak further up around your neck to keep the damned weather out. The chestnut mare, your only constant companion for the hundred or so miles since the last major city, tossed her head and trudged on with her long, damp forelock dangling into her eyes and obscuring the white, asymmetrical blaze that dribbled down her ginger face towards her nose. She seemed half asleep on her feet, and you weren’t far off that yourself either.

A flock of rooks erupted out of a patch of dark elm and tall sycamore in the valley below on your right, tugging your mind back to the present. Your gaze tracked them as they sailed away like flakes of dark ash on the wind. Both you and the rangy mare shifted nervously, and you couldn’t help but remind yourself that the locals weren’t always friendly to the Republic’s advances further and further north. Stories of skirmishes and wild tales of shapeshifters and sacrificial magic swirled through the ranks of soldiers, but they were largely dismissed by those who had lived a comfortable life in the Republic’s neatly-planned towns and cities, with their hot bath complexes, intricate mosaics, and heated floors.

“Not long now, Copper,” you said, petting the horse’s mud-encrusted neck as much for your own reassurance as for hers. You’d named her for the vibrant colour of her coat, reminiscent too of beech leaves at the height of the season, but you’d been made to feel foolishly sentimental for giving such an ordinary horse a name like ‘Copper’ by the progressively rougher soldiers at the staging posts on the journey north.

The mare didn’t even flick her ear in your direction at the sound of your voice, and you sighed and pushed yourself back up into a better position in the saddle, shifting uncomfortably as your bruised seat-bones protested yet another day of riding. How the Messenger Corps managed, living almost their entire life in the saddle, you had no idea.

The fort itself came into view on the next rise in the road, and Copper’s ears finally pricked up at the break in the relative monotony of heather and sand and occasional rowan tree. Your own attention was caught, however, by the fact that ‘Castle Rise’ outpost was not, in fact, a castle at all. From that distance, it looked like little more than a grubby wooden palisade with a watch tower over the gateway, and a ditch running around it. Torches bobbed along the walls at regular intervals though, marking the sentries’ routes within, and when you reached the gate and drew rein, a woman’s rough alto yelled down at you.

“Announce yourself!”

You did, adding, “Healer and surgeon assigned to the outpost, until relieved of my duties by a replacement next year.”

“If you even survive up here that long!” she crowed back at you.

Read the whole thing now over on Patreon! For $3 you can have access to all my previous (pre-2023) stories, and for $5 you can have access to all that, plus all the new monthly exclusives.

#werebear #werebear x human #werebear x reader #reader x werebear #male werebear #male werebear x reader #gender neutral reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #patreon

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 year

Text

Out of the Woods (Epilogue: Part 1) (Male!Werewolf x Female!Reader)

Pairing: Male! Werewolf x Female!Reader

Warnings: Explicit Content (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 2853 words

Summary: Due to multiple requests, here's some more Heath! I ran a poll for what kind of continuation y'all wanted and smut was the resounding winner. I also have another, fluffier piece that I'll be working on between requests, so expect that within the next month. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2

The transition from strangers, to kind of friends, to something else has been interesting with Heath.

In many ways it was simple. The both of you had been holding yourselves back from that something more and when you kissed for the first time, it felt like a dam had been finally broken open.

Heath had jumped head first into physical affection, no longer inhibited to brushes against your arm during the dishes. Now he would settle immediately into your side when you sit on the couch, arms thrown around your shoulder and face nuzzled into your neck. His body soaked up the contact like it was a drug, leaving you wondering if the need to be close and snuggle with another was a uniquely werewolf thing.

Despite this, other little things seem to fluster Heath the most. He doesn’t mind the intimacy of sleeping in the same bed, holding your hand or even kissing you. But when you help him cut up some vegetables, brush his tail fur, or even rub that one spot behind his ears his face grows hot with embarrassment. He’ll default to playful snark and jabs, but you can tell by the way his tail twitches and he hides his face that he’s embarassed. It’s why you’re wondering if you should make the first move or not, to push past just cuddling into something more….intimate.

You will admit you are only human and being cooped up in a small space with a jaw-droppingly ripped werewolf has been stoking the fire in your belly. Especially now that he feels comfortable enough to wander around without a shirt, or to rub his face into your chest while you cuddle. Last night, Heath leaned one of his arms against the door frame as you talked and you clenched your jaw so hard you thought you’d shatter your retainer. You adore his willingness to touch and be affectionate, but all this unintentional teasing is killing you.

You’re both sitting down for a movie, His head laid against your chest as you rest against the arm of the couch. His long body splays out behind, his cheek pressed against your sternum while your ankles are hooked around his waist. It’s an intimate position, sure, but Heath is entirely focused on the movie, twisting his fingers with yours in complete nonchalance. But looking down at his long soft hair, admiring his taut back muscles and cute butt, you can’t help but let your mind linger…elsewhere.

The movie is Titanic, which you’ve finally convinced him to watch despite him blanching at the long running time. He bellyached, saying “I already know what happens, the ship sinks” but it seems your promise of cuddles and a forbidden love storyline have drawn him in, eyes locked on the screen as Jack and Rose run away from the nosy butler. It’s only when Leo Dicaprio honks the car horn, Kate Winslet playfully sitting in the backseat do you remember the upcoming sex scene. The passionate, borderline-puberty inducing sex scene you’re about to watch with Heath, who has never seen a movie sex scene before.

Well, now your mind is really wandering.

You're stuck trying not to stare at Heath’s iron biceps wrapped around your waist and while also avoiding the very hot and heavy scene in front of you, but the noises of rapture and musical climax are kind of obvious. Heath hasn’t said anything, but there is no hiding the way his ears have perked up or the way he jolts when Rose slams her hand in the glass in ecstasy. The sound of her hand gliding down the window, leaving an imprint in the dewey surface, throws you back to being 13 and horrible embarrassed watching this with your parents.

“T-theres actually a continuity error here.” You jump in with another fun fact, trying to ease the mood. “Because we saw Rose roll down the front window of the far, so it probably shouldn’t be steamy in the car.”

“Hmmhmm.” Heath says, no snarky comment about how you pay too close attention to the details. He quickly flips his head so he’s facing you, his jaw slightly digging into your stomach. “But does that actually happen, anyway? The windows steam up when you have sex in a car?”

“Oh yeah, it definitely does.” You say with far too much confidence, making Heath’s eyebrows shoot up. “I-I mean you’re both breathing in such a confined space! Your breath lingers and plus it only gets heavier when you have sex so it all just….” Your hands gesticulate randomly, “...collects, I guess.”

“Hmm.” Heath hums, but he doesn’t turn to look at the movie. Jack and Rose’s chatter goes forgotten as he looks you over. The thoughts are clambering around in his head, you can tell. His tail has taken to that nervous wagging, a slow back and forth.

“So…have you?”

“Have I…have I-” You point to the screen, not willing to say ‘fucked in a car’ out loud. Heath nods, forcing you take a deep breath.

With the same kind of bravery that had you standing up to several armed men not too long ago, you nod.

Heath eyebrows shoot upwards again.

“Just once!” You stutter. “I was in high school, it’s a small town so we had nowhere else to go. Plus he had a hatchback so….”

Oh god, please just say anything.

“Huh.”

MORE THAN THAT PLEASE.

“I-it wasn’t very good, to be honest.” The word vomit tumbles out before you can stop, knowing your jumping down a terrible rabbit hole. “I think it was mostly because we we’re both pretty inexperienced, so our limbs kept getting in the way and he didn’t know how to prep me right-”

For the love of god STOP TALKING.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘prep’?” Heath says, his ears perked upwards. It seems you've really dug yoursel a hole now.

“Well, I wasn’t really prepared so when he-” you struggle over the next word, trying to avoid eye contact, “-entered me, it was kind of uncomfortable.”

“So he just stuck it in, right away?”

Ever the romantic, Heath.

“Y-yeah, we had been making out before but that was it.”

Heath raises himself to his elbows, indignation set in his face.

“Some guys do that?”

“I mean, I think most guys do that.” You mutter, recounting too many disappointing one night stands to mention. Heath cringes to himself.

“Human men are fucking idiots.” You nod, about to interject and try to defer the subject anywhere else, but Heath keeps talking. “Jeez, I can’t imagine even trying to do that. That sounds-” Heat cringes again, shaking his shoulders, “That doesn’t even sound fun, not to mention painful.”

“Yeah, but I guess thats what lube is for?”

Heath rolls his eyes.

“Ridiculous, why buy something when you can just make a girl feel good.” Heath brushes some stray hair out of his face, the flex of his bicep giving you a beautiful sight. You feel your face grow hot and something bold seems to stir into your stomach. The pictures in your mind start going wild.

You, Heath, naked, panting in the back of a hatchback. His canines nibbling on your neck, your nails digging into his back.

“W-well, how would one make a girl feel good?” You ask, twiddling your fingers, trying to throw away the tantalizing fantasy brewing your mind. “You know, since most guys clearly don’t know.”

Heath’s eyes go wide, ears flattening as his cheeks grow warm with a blush. Just behind him, you can see his tail wag just a bit.

“W-well, first off,” Heath clears his throat, dropping back to his elbows and hovering over your chest. Those bright yellow eyes stare up at you, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine. “You make sure the girl is nice and cozy, in a position she could stay in for a while.” Your body unconsciously sinks into the soft couch cushions, your limbs popping as you force them to relax.

“Then,” Heaths voice sinks into a deeper octave, his gaze shooting down to your pajama shirt, where your braless chest lies waiting. “You ask her how she’s feeling.” He takes another deep breath. “You feeling good?”

You nod, breathless and fervent. It instills some confidence in Heath, the kind you can see roll down his back as he smirks.

“Good, then you give her a kiss.” A soft peck lands on your lips. You ache to follow Heath’s mouth but a large hand presses down on your chest, keeping you in place. “And you slowly move down.” Heath whispers, resting his palms on your sides as his head drips down to your stomach. He presses a soft kiss through the fabric, but its no less electrifying. Nor are the trail of kisses he makes down your abdomen, his hand gliding across your skin as he does. He stops at the edge of your sweatpants, looking upward.

“Still good?”

You nod, almost gasping as Heath's nails slip under your waistband and slowly pull down. Heath deeply exhales as he sees the top of your underwear, some blue boyshorts you usually wore on movie nights. Heath presses a kiss to your pubic bone, rolling your pants down your leg and slipping them off. One hand creeps up under the hem of your shirt, pushing it to your chest but not fully off.

“And finally-” Heath cuts you off guard, licking a long stripe against the fabric against your pussy, spurring a whine in your chest, “You dig in.”

Heath's hands lock onto your hips, shoving his face into your crotch with a deep breath and a voracious tongue. The cotton of your boy shorts rub against your clit as Heath licks up and down. The sensation is incredible, but no love is lost when Heath rips off your underwear with one hand and throws himself back into your pussy. Your hand reaches down into his long hair, neck craned back as you moan. After a few sucks on your sensitive spot, Heath shoves his tongue inside you. Unsurprisingly, it's long and very dextrous, rubbing against your spongy walls.

A callouse thumb quickly joins Heath’s ravenous mouth, gently tapping your clit while Heath tongue-fucks you like a man dying tomorrow. Your nails dig into Heath’s scalp, a mantra of his name pouring out. The sloppy sounds of Heath eating you out are pure debauchery and only turn you on more.

“Fuck, you taste good.” Heath growls as he comes up for air, quickly returning to his feast. Your thighs clench around as his head, Heath’s ears perking up to take in each of your wanton moans. You stutter and whine as the rubber band in your stomach pulls taut, begging to snap and release the pressure.

“Heath, Heath, fuck-” Your eyes roll back as Heath’s tongue jerks in and out, hitting your g-spot with precision. That calloused finger returns and rubs your clit, teasing circles that have your legs shaking. Heath’s hair is soft and thick, wrapped around your fingers as you yank him impossibly closer to your core. A pleased growl rumbles up from Heath’s chest and against your pussy. You bite your lip, hips jerking upwards. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. Heath, I’m gonna-” Your voice lilts upward, nearing a whine as the dam finally bursts, your orgasm wracking your body. The grip of your thighs in Heath’s head tightens, falling away as your body comes down from it’s high. Heaths pulls out of your cunt, his tongue lapping up your wetness before he looks up at you.

It takes a bit for you to catch your breath, your vision blurry as you try to make sense of your body and the situation. But a warm hand tilts your jaw, the warmth of Heath’s chest radiating into your skin as he sits up and looks at you.

“You okay?”

You nod, reigning in the breathless parts of your mind. Heath’s eyes are slightly concerned, but he can’t hide the smug smile he keeps to himself, inwardly proud of bringing you the edge like this. It’s cute, hot, and a little bit of a challenge. A challenge you gladly accept.

You wrap your arms around Heath’s neck and hook your ankles around his hips, feigning to pull him in to cuddle. Heath readily goes to gently lay himself atop you, but with a quick snap you’ve flipped both of you over, your soaked pussy now resting on Heath’s crotch as you sit on his lap.

“My turn, big guy.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his shocked lips, taking in his wide eyes. But his hands easily find their place on your sides, feeling you up while you shimmy down his pants. His face flushes that adorable blush, the thump of his excited tail hitting the couch as you tug at his underwear. Heath’s thick, hard cock thumps against his stomach, just as drool worthy as you had imagined it too be.

Wow, thank god he prepared me.

You joke, taking in Heath’s length. Heath’s throat bobs and he looks away as you admire his body, an odd strain of insecurity flustering him.

“Is this okay?” You whisper, running a hand down his chest, lingering before his cock. Heath fervently nods, choking on his words.

“Yes, d-definitely. Please.” The whine he lets out his primal, only encourage when you grab onto the base of his cock, stroking it a few times. His hips cant into your palm, his fingers pressing into your skin. You take a deep breath, shooting a sweet smile.

“Ok, just let me know. Otherwise,” You sit, lining Heath’s cock up with your entrance, rubbing his head against your lips, “I’m going to take you for a ride.”

With an ease brought about by your powerful orgasm, you sink down onto Heath’s cock in one movement. The sensation has you both gasping, Heath’s hand squeezing your sides as you settling onto his base. The tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot, making you wiggle your hips just slightly. Heath gasps again and now you can’t help but hide your smug smile.

You weren’t joking when you said you were going to take him for a ride.

Sitting back on his huge thighs, you raise up your hips before throwing them forward, sinking Heath’s cock in a way that rubs your walls perfectly. The pleasant buzz of your last orgasm has you nice and relaxed, the subtle tingles sent up your belly just enough for your pussy. You move your hips again, resting the palms of your hands on Heath’s chest, and then start riding in earnest.

The couch shakes and creaks under the two of you, Heath’s back shifting up and down as you grind and hump his cock like a stuck-on dildo. His moans are tantalizing, his head thrown back to show off the columns of his thick and sweaty neck. His hands stay latched around your middle, thumbs rubbing your stomach. Every now and then he jerks and his grip pulls you closer, trying to set the pace, but you let it slide. Instead you grab one of his hands and bring it up to one of your tits, letting his fingers latch on and play with a nipple. Heath growls, now looking back up at you with debauched infatuation.

It’s so cute, seeing him like this.

You lean your chest down, pressing your chest against his and grabbing his jaw. Flickering yellow eyes look right into your eyes, long tongue almost falling out his mouth as he takes deep breaths.

“I l-love you.” He gasps, your noses pressed against each other. Your heart skips a beat, soaring with happiness. You immediately rush in for a kiss, unintentionally clenching around Heath’s cock as you do. He whines in the kiss, reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair. Your hips begin to stutter, Heath jerking his own up to reach deeper inside you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you. By that and the breathlessness of his moans, Heath seems to be close.

“I love you too.”

With that, whispered against his salty lips, Heath grabs onto the back of your head and pulls you into an embrace. His hips forcefully take the lead, fucking up into yiu before they twitch and shake. Heath nearly roars as his orgasm hits, forcing his dick inside you as he raises himself up.

Like yourself, his body immediately collapses into relaxation, his racing heart beating against your head as you lay snugly against him. His softening cock stays inside you, Heath still too pussy-drunk to notice. His arms stay tightened around, keeping you close as he nuzzles into the top of your head, taking a deep whiff of your calming scent.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that; sweaty and warm. But Heath’s embrace feels like a cocoon, your hearts beating together as you lie. It’s the comfort of being with someone you love and knowing you are loved,

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #female reader insert #werewolf

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veeisdunn · 1 year

Text

Sneaking around

Shelby family x sister!reader

warning: period typical homophobia

context: set before season one, reader is a few years younger than Ada.

I know this isn't an original idea and is kind of overdone, but I figured since I am very very queer I might as well give it a shot.

WC: 4.1K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It took awhile for everyone to recognise, but it was clear as day now. The youngest Shelby girl was slipping away.

Finn saw it first. The young boy idolised his older sister. Though less than a year was between them, Y/N was his world. You were there, day in day out, to offer support, advice, or generally cause trouble; until one day, you weren't.

Arthur, bless his heart, took a long time to come around.

"But I fuck off all the bloody time and I don't see any of yous all stressed"

"This is different Arthur, it's y/n" Tommy, the replacement voice of reason.

You were barely a teenager when you first realised you were different. You had a playground boyfriend who you adored, but not in the right way. You always looked at him like a best friend, but it became painfully obvious he was dealing with some serious puppy love. He kissed you. You hated it.

You promptly ended things after that embarrassment.

As you got older, it clicked. You didn't like boys, not in that way. You looked at women the same way many men would.

I'm fucking delusional. A looney.

The Shelby boys would tease your lack of romance, but deep down appreciated that you being single gave them one less thing to worry about.

You was all alone with these thoughts of self-loathing, until you met her.

Emma was a few years your senior and worked as a seamstress on the other side of Small Heath. You were caught in the rain together one evening, and the rest was history. You and Emma became close friends, both craving female companionship in your male-dominated lives. Your relationship escalated one drunken night in the snug of the Garrison. Most of the Blinders were in London doing god knows what, leaving the private room of the pub to you and her friend.

"Truth or dare?" Emma slurred

You hummed, "truth!"

"Who was your first love?"

"That's a big question." you pondered

"I've just never seen you around any men! You never even talk about them, you literally have your pick of every man in Birmingham." Emma giggled, her inhibitions getting the best of her.

"I… I just haven't found the right person yet." you quipped defensively, pouring yourself and Emman another glass.

"Maybe you're looking in the wrong place?"

You choked on her gin. "What's that supposed to mean?”

Emma leaned back into her chair and stared you down. "I saw the way you look at the barmaid." she smirked.

shit. shit. shit.

"I think she's cute as well" Emma continued, swirling her drink around her glass.

You felt like all of the air had been ejected from your lungs. Did Emma feel it too?

"Wait. You also like women?"

"Yes. I think they're rather more attractive" the older girl replied nonchalantly.

—

Ever since that fateful evening, you had been "best friends" - more accurately, you were sneaking around each other's houses, stealing kisses behind buildings or under tables, and fighting the urge not to show any physical affection in public. You were enamored by each other.

This new arrangement made you fear your family, quite simply because they ran the entire city - the walls may as well have had piercing eyes following your every move. Though if the you were exposed, you didn't worry for yourself, you worried for Emma - an unmarried 20 year-old living in a bedsit above a cobbler who had no family (or gang for that matter) to come to her defense.

Y/N was certain this was one of the only laws her family hadn’t broken, and now you were walking all over it. Homosexuality, as Emma had taught you, was fully natural, but extremely illegal. Sometimes the you wished you could just be normal, but then you wouldn’t be able to spend hours gazing into your girlfriend's glowing eyes - a truly impossible predicament.

—

The sun peaked up over the dense bog of factory smoke, darkened rays illuminating the dusty streets. Y/N took a deep breath in, halfway between a slumber and reality.

That’s a nice smell.

Only a few minutes later did you realise that that nice smell was, in fact, Emma’s perfume and your head was, in fact, buried in Emma's chest.

“Morning, sunshine.” The older girl whispered, resting her hand on your knotty h/c hair, attempting in vain to comb through it with her fingers.

“What time is it?” you yawned and relaxed into Emma’s gentle touch.

“Just turned seven, the bird’s woke me.” She spoke softly but the you were thrown into a panic. This was your first time sleeping in your bed and you'd slept in.

“They'll be up.” You shot up from Emma’s embrace. This revelation ruined the tranquillity of your night together. Emma hastily slipped on one of your frilly blouses and long woollen skirt, abandoning last night’s evening dress for the sake of blending in outside. You then helped your lover out of the window and onto the fence, then down to the alleyway beside the Shelby home.

“Em I’m sorry, again. I’m just scared, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You apologised profusely, feeling ashamed that you went to such lengths to hide.

Emma smiled sadly “No, I get it. We can’t have our fun end now can we?” She giggled playfully “I best be off, you should sleep over in my room tonight.”

You blushed as Emma waltzed down the alley and onto the bustle of Watery Lane as if nothing had just happened.

—

“Aunt Polly, guess what?” Finn giggled, skipping into the crowded kitchen. The whole family, except you, were crowded around the table eating breakfast. “I heard someone in Y/N’s room!”

“Finn, that’s not funny. Go and cause trouble elsewhere.” Tommy scolded, glancing up from his newspaper.

“No!” the boy protested, grabbing his Aunt’s arm as she walked past, “I heard her talking! And I heard lots of footsteps! And the window!” he blabbed

The chorus of murmurs that filled the room ceased.

“Y/N’s finally gotten herself a man!” John cheered, slapping an angry Tommy on the back. Across the table, it looked as if steam was pouring from Arthur’s ears.

“Boys, I say it’s a good thing. It’s time she found someone to have fun with.” Ada sighed, sensing one of her brother’s was about to blow up.

“I agree with Ada.” Polly announced, “Y/N is an adult now, she can do whatever the bloody hell she pleases”

“She’s barely 18!” Tommy slammed his paper down “she should NOT be having men sharing her bed.” Ada glared daggers into him. A floorboard creaking across the hall meant that you had accidentally announced yourself sneaking back to bed.

“Speak of the devil.” Arthur tutted.

You apprehensively stepped towards the stairs.

Maybe if I walk slowly, they won’t see me?

“Y/N! Y/N! Who was it? When can I meet him?” Finn sang, bounding up to you, Tommy hot on his heels.

“Who was the man in your bed?” Tommy demanded “Do we know him? Or will I have to introduce myself?” He snapped, a menacing undertone in his voice.

“THIS is why she felt the need to sneak him out!” Ada shouted over her brother, “you could at least pretend to be supportive!”

Tommy let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Okay, how was your secret fuck last night?”

“THOMAS! Cut it out. Now.” Polly could have broken glass with her shriek. “Girls, I suggest you leave. Your brothers need educating.”

You fled up the stairs to her room. Ada followed close behind, stopping her sister from slamming the door and locking herself away. You threw yourself on the bed in despair.

“That’s a nice dress. Did you wear it last night?” Ada tried her best to be friendly, inspecting Emma’s crimson dress hung over a desk chair.

“That’s not my dress.” You rolled over to face the wall, “it’s my friends.” you huffed defensively.

“You know, you can always borrow my dresses?” Ada settled down at the end of her sister’s bed, misjudging the situation.

“No Ada, it’s just that she wore it last night and left it here.”

“So if one of your friends slept over, can’t you just tell everyone so they’ll shut up?”

An unfamiliar knot tied itself in your stomach. It was one thing sneaking around behind the backs of your family, lying to their faces was not something you'd considered. You opted to remain silent.

“What’s going on with you lately? You keep shutting everyone out.” Ada leaned over and looked down over her little (adult) sister with concern.

“I’m just so fucking tired of hiding.”

Ada’s the least likely to kill me.

“From what?”

“Everyone. I am sick of living life like this.”

“Y/N, who was here last night?” Ada asked softly, catching on.

You snapped. “My girlfriend. My girlfriend was here and we slept in my bed. We didn’t have sex, we just talked.”

Ada silently gasped and took a moment to compose herself. “Look, I don’t care what you’re doing with her-”

“No, it’s not that.” tears began to well in your eyes, “it’s the fact they all probably think I’m no better than a common prostitute despite the fact they sleep with every woman they find.”

“Oh Y/N…” Ada mumbled with a smile, “Polly will sort them out. You shouldn’t be sneaking around us.”

You was taken aback by Ada’s lack of anger.

“Now…” Ada jumped up and picked up Emma’s dress from the chair, admiring the quality “tell me about her!”

—

“Look Thomas, just because she is a woman and you are a man, it doesn’t mean you have more rights than Y/N.” Polly snapped, towering above her nephew.

“You just can’t seem to get it through your head, Pol.” Tommy retorted, standing from his seat, “men are bad, they can’t be trusted.”

“Yes, and you would know all about bad men Tommy, since you yourself run with the devil.” Polly squared up to him and snarled, staring into his dark eyes.

John joined the pair standing and rested a hand on each of their shoulders. “Eva is a smart girl, she probably picked someone who’s the total opposite of a Blinder. He’ll be nothing like Tommy.”

“At least if he’s a fuckin’ Blinder we can finish him off quickly.” Arthur chimed in, gripping his glass so hard it could have smashed.

“There will be no finishing of anyone off. You boys cannot sentence an innocent man to death for sleeping with Y/N. How do you think she will take that? Will she thank you? Or will she leave this God forsaken city and never come back?” Polly snapped, “It’s your decision, but it’s one you should take in a fucking heartbeat.”

As Polly berated Arthur and John sat back with indifference, Tommy stormed into the hallway and ascended the rickety stairs to your room. His mind was running at lightning speed, anger and guilt both clouding his rational brain. He had to know who this man was before he decided on his next step. Your jubilant voice and Ada’s giggles stopped him from bashing her door off its hinges.

“And when Emma kisses me, I swear my heart is going to explode.”

“Does she treat you well?”

“She’s so thoughtful. On the anniversary of Mum’s death, she brought flowers for us to throw in the cut. We sat on the edge for hours and she just listened to me ramble.”

“Oh my gosh! You lucky girl Y/N!”

Tommy kissed his teeth and looked up at the ceiling before opening the door.

If there is a God, he thought, then please tell me what the fuck is going on.

Both yourself and Ada jumped as your older brother entered, his expression was impossible for either of you to decipher.

“Tommy, before you yell at her, can you at least think about this!” Ada begged, standing between him and yourself.

“Ada. Out. I need to talk with Y/N alone.”

Ada stepped forward “If you upset her Tommy, I’ll fucking kill you.” she threatened through gritted teeth.

Begrudgingly, after bickering some more, Ada left your bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Thomas sighed, listening to the rapid rhythm of his pulse. Wordlessly, he picked up your desk chair and placed it next to your bed, sitting down and staring at his sister who was leant against the headboard, your knees to yourchest. You refused to meet his gaze.

“So,” He coughed, “Who is Emma?”

You traced circles into your thigh as you took a shaky breath in.

“My friend.” You mumbled

“Your friend who you shared a bed with and kissed?” Tommy raised his eyebrows. He needed to hear you say it for yourself, though, as Ada did, he’d caught on.

“I - you know, Tommy.” You sniffed your tears back.

“I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Use your words.”

“Fine. I love her Tommy! I love her more than all the girls you sleep around with. I know you don’t want me to be happy but I don’t care because I love her.” You lost it, you sat up and faced him, shouting with tears streaming down your face. The only thing stopping you from attacking him was the iron grip you were keeping on your bed sheets.

Tommy didn’t reply. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

“I know you’re pissed but quite frankly I’m sick to death of being a prisoner to the men in this family. For once, I have someone who loves me for me and who doesn’t treat me like a child. If you don’t like it, I’ll fucking leave and you can be rid of me.” The words flew out of your mouth without much doubt and you couldn’t figure out if they were empty threats or if you were ready to run. Your brother’s reaction would decide that.

Silence. “So?” you spat, “when do you want me gone?”

Tommy barely registered what he had heard. He was stunned, sifting through his racing thoughts: She could be arrested, or even killed. Her reputation would be finished. What if she wanted her own life and career? Would she even be able to find a job?

He was so engrossed, in fact, that he didn’t even notice you leave in floods of tears.

—

You were running on fumes. You hadn’t woken up prepared for any of this anguish. Your legs carried you to the one place where you knew you’d be safe - Emma. Before long, and after lots of odd looks from people around you, you'd ended up at the door of the dress shop where your girlfriend worked.

“G’morning! How can I help?” The woman behind the counter looked up from her work at you, a fake smile on her face.

“Emma.” you panted, catching your breath, “Is Emma here? I’m her friend and it’s an emergency.”

After studying your face, the woman’s smile faded. “Emma!” She poked her head through a door behind her and called, “There is a Miss Shelby here looking for you.”

A crash, a slam, and then Emma appeared, rather flustered. If it wasn’t for your panic, you would be swooning at the sight of your lover in your clothes.

“You should step in the back for a minute - I don’t want customers seeing you girls chit-chat.” The woman, who you had now deduced was the boss, spoke quietly. Emma didn’t respond and grabbed your forearm, leading you into the back room and closing the door.

“What happened? Why’re you crying?” Emma fretted, sitting you down at a desk.

You held back your tears in fear of getting your girlfriend in trouble. “They know.” You whispered, “My little brother heard someone in my room and they’ve all found out.”

Emma cursed under her breath, holding onto your hands so hard her knuckles went white. “Are they angry?” She whispered back, her eyes flicking to the door cautiously.

“I - I don’t know. My sister was really happy but I don’t think my brothers are. I asked Tommy if he wanted me to leave and he didn’t even say anything. I don’t think I can go back.”

The older girl walked over to a set of pegs and took a key out of a bag, handing it to you. “Go back to my room. I’ll finish at six today, then we can come up with a plan.”

“No!” You snapped in a hushed voice “You don’t understand how crazy my family are. You should leave me here and go somewhere else, it won’t be safe in the city for you anymore.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. If you don’t think it’s safe here, then let’s both get out.”

After that exchange, you were sent on your way back to Emma’s bedsit. Luckily everyone else was at work so no one saw you run in. You were originally planning to spend the day figuring out what you and Emma were going to do come the evening, but you instead collapsed from exhaustion and slept.

—

“Thomas Michael Shelby!” Polly bellowed, practically picking him up by his collar. “What in God’s name have you done?!”

Tommy snapped out of his haze. Y/N was gone. Polly was out for blood. Ada was crying. Arthur was having a drink - at 8am. John was gone, too. What the fuck happend?

“You were meant to comfort her! Not drive her out of the fucking house!”

Tommy ignored his raging aunt. “I’ll get every bloody man on the street to find her.” His voice was monotone as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

Ada chuckled sarcastically, “John’s already onto that, got all the Blinder’s after her. He was being a brother while you were sitting on your arse.”

“SHIT” Tommy stood up and threw the pile of books from Y/N’s desk into the wall. “Shit shit shit.” And he was gone.

—

The three brothers were out all day looking for their sister, while Polly, Ada, and Finn stayed home waiting in case she returned. She didn’t. As the night approached, the trio returned and handed over to a group of their associates who planned to search all night.

On the other side of Small Heath, you and Emma were getting ready to head out. Your plan was to sneak back to Watery Lane, get your things, leave a note, and get out. You was intending to hide in Emma’s room until you could both figure out where to go next. You took the reverse route that you had that morning, seeing that all the lights were on downstairs, but no one appeared to be upstairs. Down the alley, up the fence, onto the roof, then through the window. The one thing that you'd forgotten to consider was that somebody could already be in there.

Ada was laying on your bed in floods of tears. The second your feet hit the floor, she shot up and screamed, bounding over. “Y/N! I thought you were never coming back!” She grabbed you and smothered her in an embrace, “Tommy didn’t mean it. He was just being an idiot. Good god Y/N I thought we’d lost you.”

Emma awkwardly slid in through the window, extremely embarrassed. At the same time, a pair of footsteps sprinted up the stairs and into the room and the door flew open. John. He looked exhausted and was too shocked to even speak, he assumed Ada was having a nightmare. On her guard, Emma stormed over to him and backed him in a corner.

“Are you Thomas?!” She snapped, seething with anger.

John let out a sincere chuckle and smiled. “So Y/N did pick someone tough after all - I’m John, not Tommy.” Emma retreated in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I thought he’d made you cry.” She mumbled to you “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I like her, Y/N.” Ada smiled, taking a good look at the new woman in the room.

You walked over to Emma and took her hand. “You don’t need to protect me, it’s ok.” You whispered, wrapping her in a calming hug. You could feel her pulse pumping across her body.

“So you’re the girl who stole my little sister’s heart?” John enquired, relieved.

“Emma.” You spoke into the girl’s chest, “You’re hugging me too tight.”

Emma immediately let go “I’m sorry, I’m just tense.” You pecked her lips, “Better now?”

Ada awed at the interaction and took in the sight of her baby sister in love, John could have sworn his legs had turned to jelly. The moment was destroyed by another set of footsteps, Tommy entered drearily.

John ceased his opportunity to wind his brother up. “Emma.” He announced, turning to her, “This is Thomas. Tommy, meet Emma.”

The loving embrace between you both ended as Emma stormed over to the doorway and pinned Tommy against it. Ada covered her mouth, trying not to laugh at the exchange.

“You. You fucking made Y/N cry. She’s been in my room all day crying because you couldn’t talk to her, after demanding that she ‘use her words’ you fucking prick.” she spat. Tommy lifted his hands up in surrender, shocked at this new girl’s confidence.

“Ay, no need to shout. I came to apologise to my sister for being an arse.”

“Honest to God Tommy, I don’t think an apology will cut it.” John folded his arms and walked towards the door.

“No. I’ll listen.” You piped up, pushing past John. “Emma, it’s ok, I promise.”

Emma shook her head and stood back. Ada took her out of the room begrudgingly and John followed, the three of them waiting outside of your door.

“Tommy, I-” You began but you were cut off by your brother engulfing you in a hug and practically picking you up.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry. You can be angry at me but I’m just so happy you’re home.” He rambled, gripping you as if you were about to disappear again.

“I’m not angry, I’m hurt.” You stepped back from the hug and looked into his glassy eyes. “Why didn’t you say something, anything Tommy? I thought you were mad, I thought you hated me.” You spoke as tears fell down her cheeks.

“I - Y/N I was thinking about you. I was scared. You’re too good for this world and people won’t understand this.”

“I just wish you could have said something. Tommy you fucking terrified me.” You sniffed.

He took your hand in his and held it to his chest. “I don’t care who you love, Y/N, as long as you love. I don’t know where all that talk of me hating you came from. You could scream and shout at me, but I will never, ever, hate you. I got scared that you’d met some man like me who wouldn’t treat you well; but now I see you’ve found yourself a woman who will fight me over your feelings - a brave woman.”

“So… you don't hate me? I thought you’d want me locked up.”

Tommy scoffed “Locked up, eh? You don’t have shell shock. You aren’t crazy. And even if you were, I'd look after you, I wouldn’t shut you away.”

You burst into relieved tears, prompting Emma to open the door. Tommy immediately stood to face her, his arms yet again up in a surrender.

“I don’t know if you heard that, Love, but I was apologising, so please don’t cut me.” He spoke, locking eyes with her pleadingly.

“Ok.” Emma sighed. “You’re forgiven, for now.” She warned. John skipped through the door cheering. “Tommy brother, we have found your match!” He laughed, “Aunt Polly will love you!”

The rollercoaster of a day came to a crashing halt as night fell across Watery Lane. You apprehensively introduced Emma to your family. John was right, Polly adored her: “Finally, another woman to help me control these feral men.”

Arthur was less expressive: “D’ya want a whisky?” Emma obliged - immediate friends.

Finn, bless his heart, was very confused - “Y/N, your boyfriend is a girl.” but he eventually figured it out.

—

“You know,” You started, looking into the fire surrounded by your family with the woman you loved, “sometimes Em and I joke that the Shelby’s have now broken every law in the book.”

“No, I’m sure your brothers could find a few others.” Polly chuckled, leaning back into her seat, a smile plastered across her face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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