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#( he feels bad spitting some of it out but *sand* )
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Anonymous said: If he checks his bag there will be a full canteen of fresh water in there.
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Much appreciated...!
There isn't much else in his bag to dig through yet-- but a second canteen is hard to miss, especially one that actually does have water in it. Vash can't get the lid unscrewed fast enough, and the first sip is used to get the grains of sand out of his mouth, spitting out what he took in... then he drinks nearly half of the thing in one go.
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world.
> fluff, a pinch of angst, suggestive / wc: 3.1k
> warnings: mention of the doctor bc oc missed their period >:(, allusion to s/x, making out, jungkook doing pull ups must be a warning for the faint hearted like me
note: we’re going through the seasons?! partly inspired by #that live and jungkook for calvin klein <3 we’ve all seen those pictures right… right… i hope the onlyswan prophecy continues with this drabble i need to see jungkook do pull ups at the beach <3 + reblogs & feedback are always appreciated :D
jungkook is a sunkissed daydream and a shirtless adonis. his tender hands are on your bare thighs, keeping himself steady on the light brown sand while you sit still and look pretty on a log.
“baby, are you pregnant?”
when a man spits out this question, it usually sounds a little bit something like an anxious and insensitive ‘you’re not pregnant, are you?’ your starry-eyed boyfriend is asking you in a calm tone, joking for the most part, yet genuine wonder is painted on his face as if you’re just supposed to tell him what day of the week it is.
you stare at him with a blank expression, silent for a moment as the fierce waves crash on the shore, finding it difficult to take him seriously. “i don’t know. did you break a condom?”
he breaks eye-contact to space out, pursing his lips as he pretends to be immersed in deep thought.
“uhh, not to my knowledge.”
“then i’m not.” you shrug your shoulders with a cheeky grin, scrunching your nose. “will you steal some mangoes for me now, please?”
“is my baby craving for them that bad?” he coos at you softly, inching closer to press a kiss on your lips. “no but why do you always ask me to steal mangoes for you?”
“what do you mean ‘always’? this is only the second time.” you scoff, offended by the accusation, shoving him lightly but he quickly takes a hold of your arms to save himself from falling.
he chuckles lightheartedly, recounting the first time you visited his hometown and you took a walk around his neighborhood together. you looked at the mango tree with so much longing, and he had so much love for you, it was untameable.
nothing much has changed.
except for the color of the mangoes, perhaps. they were yellow back then, ripe and soft. you ripped off the fragile skin with your bare hands as you devoured the nectar-filled fruit, and the both of you came home to his parents’ house sticky and satiated like little kids who played under the sun from noon to afternoon. today, they’re green and plump, and truthfully, his mouth is watering for a taste.
“you know, since the tree is directly infront of our villa-” he tilts his head to the side, briefly looking at your temporary private residence. “it’s technically ours, so it’s not stealing.”
your eyes are glitter with mischief, and they communicate without words before you burst into a fit of revitalizing giggles, filling your empty tummy with a childlike joy.
for a while before jungkook, you’d forgotten people are kind. you chose to live for yourself, and yourself only, because you thought that if you lose sight of your plans for the future because of a impetuous slip within the thrill of temptation, you would also lose the essence of your being that you’re actively fighting so hard to get a good grasp of. you’re in a never-ending, excruciating process of picking apart your identity; detaching yourself from what you learned in the past to make room for growth; and swallowing bitter pills of hard-taught lessons. but when you’re in a relationship, every decision goes through a filter, a need for an answer to the question of how would this make my partner feel?
your friends still ask from time to time, what it is about jungkook that made you bend this principle and compromise your plans when those were the reasons you impulsively ended relationships in the past.
you’d forgotten people are kind.
jungkook is messy. he always leaves behind a fragment of his heart, and you shake your head and you pick up each one to stuff it in the shallow pocket of your understanding of love… until the weight of them destroyed said pocket, and all of a sudden, you have awoken. he opened your eyes to the underlying implication of that filter, how having something sacred to protect is also what makes life more worth living after all.
more than two hours ago, at seven in the morning, he held back your hair while you emptied your guts in the toilet bowl. a week ago, he held your hand in the doctor’s waiting room and didn’t let go until your name was called. that same night, you sulked about the doctor concluding that the reason you didn’t get your period last month was stress again and he teared up when you said i eat well, and i exercise regularly. but in the end it’s all useless because stress is messing up my body and i can’t control it. what do i do? the next day, he cheerfully asked you if you wanted to go see the ocean with him. right now, he’s hanging on a thick branch of a tree, enthusiastically doing pull ups while you peel the raw mangoes he picked out for you.
the familiar sounds of moans and grunts convince you to move the log you’re sitting on, abandoning the view of the majestic blue sky kissing the sparkling ocean in favor of facing your gorgeous boyfriend. he moves on to doing hanging knee tucks, pulling his knees to his chest and gradually increasing his speed and range of motion after gathering enough leverage.
“ah, this is tiring!” his yell ripples across the near-empty beach. he squeezes his eyes shut, laughing through the pain that hurts so good.
you set aside the paring knife on the plain white porcelain plate, dipping a piece of mango in the hill of salt before taking a bite (you played rock-paper-scissors to decide who would call the front desk for salt and you won after jungkook said he lost because his rock was made of paper). this, it’s just what you needed to cure the lethargy that’s been eating away at you. the combination of sour and salty explodes in your taste buds, remedying your awful loss of taste and appetite.
you shudder in sheer delight, smiling sweetly at the man brazenly showcasing his strength infront of you. “i like this a lot. i can feel my stress melting away… like ice cream under the sun.”
“i’m happy you’re enjoying yourself while i-” he cuts off his sentence, letting himself fall on the sand before jumping again to adjust his grip on the rough wood. once again, he hauls his legs upward repeatedly, reaching higher and higher each time. he releases loud huffs of air, grunting raspily with every exertion of force.
you stifle a scandalous gasp when his knees touch his wrists, covering your mouth as you grind the food with your teeth. okay, you know damn well he is flexible and a human-shaped vessel of physical strength, but you mostly witness their irrefutable testaments during intense moments of love and lust… the blissful memories can be kind of hazy.
he heaves a deep sigh, taking a rest as he hangs motionless on the branch. picture-perfect, center-frame for your adoring eyes to feast upon. his honey skin is glazed with a fine sheen of sweat, further accentuating the well-defined muscles of his torso. you only get a tease of his v-line. it hides beneath the exposed white band of his calvin klein underwear peeking above his black swimming shorts. his stomach rises and falls with each breath, and you can’t help but to marvel at his abs with appreciation. beautifully prominent, sculpted not too much. you love that when you touch them, you still feel the tenderness of his flesh, so rawly and so uniquely jungkook.
“you like what you see?” he grins when your eyes meet, winking at you flirtatiously.
“i do.” you sheepishly admit, scrunching your nose before putting another slice of mango on top of your tongue. “keep going. i want to see more.”
“more? you want more?! aish- so demanding.” he complains, thick satoori accent dripping from his voice but still, he gives you more.
you giggle in satisfaction, closely observing the flexing of his muscles and the veins along his arms popping out. one must think you’re used to his tattoos by now, but you’re definitely not. you just learn how to act unaffected, like you can’t write a book of poems about how his body art never seizes to bring you in absolute awe. his eyebrows knit as he pulls himself up, face crumpling with the amount of force and strength he utilizes with every manuever. it’s a seductive scene, but then the dimples on his cheeks make fondness bloom in your heart.
for the love of god, it’s not compromising your plans, but making jungkook a part of your plans. you no longer fantasize about a perfect life. you just want to keep waking up somewhere safe— to be here, standing on the tips of your toes, planting a delicate kiss on the mole at the lower right side of his ribcage. your lips have made one too many sharp mistakes, but they ghost over his skin and he laughs. laughs so joyfully, a majestic string of musical notes from his mouth no other instrument on earth can recreate. it’s a good mistake, the best mistake you could ever possibly make.
“here, drink.“ you offer him a bottle of cold water.
“i’m so tired. oh, fuck-” he does one final pull up before letting go, deliberately falling on the sand and bumping against your feet when he rolls over.
he sits up, warm body vibrating with giggles as he looks up at you.
“did you pack a first aid kit?“
you put a hand over your hip, raising an eyebrow. “what happened now?”
“my hands-” he stares at his palms, sand coating half of the area, before showing them to you. “they sting like hell! seriously!” his little lisp slips out as he rants.
”then why did you keep going?!” you exclaim, grabbing his tattooed wrist to assess the damage. there’s no blood in sight, but his skin has turned a very bright shade of red.
“because it was fun.” he simply answers, and you can’t argue with that.
of course you brought a first aid kit. it’s a necessity, especially when you’re on vacation with your gym bunny boyfriend, apparently. while you grab the ointment in the bedroom, jungkook decides to clean himself up under the outdoor shower situated in a corner beside the swimming pool.
“what’s wrong with this? why are they going at the same time?” he scratches his head in confusion, looking up at the spraying shower head and down at the gushing faucet. he fiddles with the handle in hopes of fixing his problematic water consumption, unintentionally pushing it up higher as he does so. this causes the water pressure to become stronger, sending thin needles to crash down and pierce his fragile skin.
“aw shit-” he reflexively runs away from the rude attack of the silver device. “yah, you punk! what did i to you, huh?! how dare you-”
he clicks his tongue in irritation, resting his hands on his hips. after glaring one more time, he extends his tattooed arm to push the handle all the way down, turning it off. he proceeds to experiment, tilting it to the left, which turns on the faucet only, and then to the right for the shower.
he laughs sarcastically at his discovery, going back under the water. “ahhh, was i the stupid one?”
“i missed you!” he declares loudly as soon as you step out of the sliding door.
“me too, babe.” you hum as you walk towards him, standing a considerable distance from the shower.
he wipes his face with his hands to unblur his vision before pushing back his wet hair, droplets of water endlessly rushing down his body.
“why are you so far?” he protests. “come here.”
“but i already took a shower.”
“so what? you’ll get wet again when we ride the jet ski later.”
you pout at him. “i told you i’m scared.”
“i’d be jack if i have to, i won’t let you drown! don’t you trust your boyfriend, hm?” he attempts to persuade you again after failing last night, knowing well that you’d enjoy yourself only if you overcome your fear of the deep waters. “it will be fun, i promise.”
“ugh, fine. only because you promised.” you weakly succumb to his wishes, setting down the small jar of ointment on the ground.
he happily pulls you in for an embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck while your arms wrap around his waist. the only barrier between your chests is the thin and small fabric of your red bikini, thoroughly soaked by the cold water combatting the rising heat of the approaching noon. you can feel the rough grains of sand that were washed away from his skin under the soles of your feet, contrasting the feather-light kisses being scattered on your neck. and this feels so utterly liberating, you refuse for it to end, allowing yourself to be hastily pinned against the wall when his supple lips meet yours.
he cups the back of your head and his long and slender fingers dig into your hair, protecting you from accidentally hitting the hard cement. the small thoughtful gesture makes you smile into the kiss. he is not real, he can’t be. if this is a dream, you’re begging the sun to never rise. his gentle hands slowly travel down the expanse of your back, until they reach your hips, teasingly tugging past the side straps of your bikini bottoms before kneading the soft flesh of your ass. he swallows the strangled whine that escapes you, slipping his tongue past your parted lips. he’s addicted to how your body language speaks to him when you get intimate, how you lovingly caress his face and his arms, slow and sensual, but then unconsciously dig your nails to mark crescent moons on his skin when you begin getting lost in your combined passion.
he wants this. he wants you. he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing you and wringing the water from your hair.
you’ve deserted the log to comfortably sit cross-legged with jungkook on the lounge chair, under the shade of the brown umbrella rooted in the soil.
“mhmmm! it’s so delicious!” jungkook carefully dips the slice of mango in the salt once more, wary of the ointment from his hand smearing on the food, before muching on it eagerly. “so crunchy!”
you pause from tending to his left hand, looking at the plate between the two of you to learn that he is nearly finished with the second mango. you only have one left.
“damn!” he dramatically curses with his eyes squeezed shut, punching the salt air. without context, a stranger would probably guess that he tragically lost a bet or remembered an embarrassing memory from highschool. but really, he’s just enjoying some pretty good food. this is the fourth time in the past five minutes that he precisely did the same thing, and yes, you’ve been counting.
“is it that yummy?” you chuckle, extremely endeared and contented when he looks this excited around food. he is the only person in the world who can make you say i’m full just by watching you eat and mean it.
“it was your idea!” he bobs his head while energetically rocking from side to side, cheeks round and full as he chews. “i haven’t eaten something new in a long time. i love it… i should give the resort five stars for my review. just for this. i’ll say i’ll come back again for the mango tree.”
“or i don’t know, we can just plant one ourselves.” you propose before lightly blowing on his inflamed palm.
“but, baby, that would take years!” he interjects. “we need to buy another house, one with a backyard, and wait at least five years for it to grow. i’ll be thirty-two by then. are you hearing that?!”
the disgusted look on his face elicits a burst of amused laughter from you, stomach hurting with a reason miles better than earlier’s. he winces at the thought of entering his 30’s in the very near future. it feels odd to think about, but it’s a little less daunting with the tree added to the picture.
he picks up the final slice on the plate, smothering it with a thin layer of salt before devouring it entirely. he whimpers, high-pitched and wide-eyed, clasping his hand over his mouth before the other one you’re holding slips away from the solace of your care. he free falls from the chair, limply collapsing on the sand. and just like that, he’s covered in them again, from his damp hair down to his wiggly toes.
you move closer to look at him, dangling your legs on the edge. “darling, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
he spreads out his limbs like a starfish, dreamily peering into the vast cloudy sky. “oh? i think this is exactly what it means to be alive.”
beyond his words, it’s the way he said them. without shyness, without qualms, without pondering. it makes him sound purely sincere, his mellifluous voice gracefully echoing louder than the nihilistic thoughts in your head, and you believe him.
he abruptly sits up, crawling on his knees to reach you. “baby! it’s too good! i want more!” he cries out, feigning desperate sobs as he hugs your legs. “i want more. let’s eat the third one, please.”
“fuck, okay. calm down. we’ll have it.” you cackle, stroking his hair while he rests his head on your lap.
you drag the plate to your side, slicing the last mango with practiced precision and skill. he, then, closes his eyes and bathes in your presence, his warm breath fanning you. it’s peacefully silent for a while, only the sounds of the knife dragging across the fruit and the waves chasing each other to the edge of the sea can be heard. that is until your boyfriend grows bored. he puckers his lips to brush against your soft skin, insatiable, climbing higher and higher until he’s peppering your inner thigh with kisses.
tingling sensations inevitably spark in your lower region, and you click your tongue to rebuke him. “jungkook, behave. i might cut myself if you keep that up.”
his lips curve into a naughty smirk, shifting a bit further down. “sorry.”
“do you want to get sunburnt? get back up here, on the chair.” you bounce your legs to shake him off, but your efforts prove to be fruitless.
he groans, stubbornly holding on to you tighter. “no, i don’t want to.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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gratelove · 1 month
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Just Friends
Warnings: unprotected p in v, cursing, 18+, teasing, fingering, oral
You and JJ, your best friend are hanging on the beach in your secluded spot. You guys always flirt, but nothing has ever actually happened between you two. Today is the day all of that changes.
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You push your fingers into the warm sand as you watch the waves roll in. The breeze is brushing through your hair. It’s the perfect day, and you’ve decided to spend it with your best friend. You guys met up at your secluded spot on the hidden beach. He was sitting next to you, sucking on sunflower seeds, and spitting their shells as far as he could get them. He spit one and a large gust of wind came. The shell came back, hitting him right the face. You break out into laughter and he turns toward you, his bright blonde hair falling over his forehead.
“Oh, you think that’s funny?”
“Yeah, I do actually,” you say, squinting your eyes, as if daring him. You watch as he pops another seed into his mouth, then spits the shell right at your forehead. You gasp and push him. “JJ! Ew!” He laughs and pushes you back. You throw yourself at him and you begin play wrestling. He wraps his arms around your hips and hoists you over his shoulder. “JJ! No!”
“Oh no, you asked for it!” You look back and he’s marching you toward the ocean. You try to hold your swim top over your breasts as they start to fall out.
“JJ, put me down!” You laugh as you hear his feet hit the water. He acts as if he is going to toss you and you grab on tight to him and scream. He laughs and sets you down. You push him playfully and try to fix your top. “God, you almost made me nip slip.”
“I wouldn’t be mad about that.” You meet his eyes and he’s smiling, staring at your chest as you finish fixing your top.
“Hey J, my eyes are up here!” You laugh and push his chin up.
“I like where my view was.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Your cheeks get hot and you make your way out of the water. You can hear him treading behind you, and feel a hand meet your ass. You spin around and see the dorky blonde with his hands in the air. “Did you just smack my ass?”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself!” This is pretty normal behavior for the two of you. JJ always had his hands on you in some way. You guys were best friends, but there was always way too much sexual tension. You two had never done anything together, you think for the fear of ruining your friendship. You both would rather wish it happened, than have it happen and never be friends again. “You know that’s my favorite bikini of yours.” He smiles and brings a finger under one of your neck stings. He pulls and snaps it against your skin. A shiver runs through you, and you stare at the water glistening off his abs. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” he mocks you and you roll your eyes. You make it to the blanket you two had set out and sit down. JJ takes the seat next to you. “You do look good, though.” You smile at him and he brushes back hair that flies in your face from the wind.
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” His fingers move from your hair to your arm, then to your thigh. You take in a deep breath as tingles run up your leg. His fingers ignite a quiver through your body.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah, J?”
“Have you ever thought about it?” You furrow your brows in confusion of his question.
“Thought about what?” His eyes dart away from your gaze and to your thighs. He brings his bottom lip between his teeth. There’s a long moment of silence. “JJ?” His blue eyes meet yours.
“Ah, nothing. Never mind.” He lets out an awkward laugh.
“No, now you have to tell me! You know the rule.” JJ and you promised each other that if you ever started a thought, you had to finish it. If you had a strong enough urge to say it, then it’s important, and must be said.
“Have you ever thought about us?” The sentence you’ve both thought, but never said.
“In what way?” You knew what he meant, but needed to hear him say it.
“You know? Have you ever thought about me, sexually, or romantically?”
“JJ, why are you asking?”
“Because I have. I do. I think about you all the time. I picture kissing you, touching you. I’ve just never said anything because I don’t want it to ruin our friendship.” His hand moves higher up your thigh, and a lump forms in your throat.
“What else do you picture?” You dare ask, and a sly smirk finds its way to his lips.
“Well, I picture you naked, on your knees in front of me. I picture fucking you.” His hand has found its way to your swim bottoms, and he curls his fingers around the thin string. Goose bumps raise on your skin.
“Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?” You lean in close when you say those words.
“Every time.” You feel yourself getting hot between your legs. His hand pushes under the fabric of your bottoms and his index finger brushes along your clit. You take in a sharp breath. “Y/N, I want you.” You grab his neck and crash your lips together in furious tension. You open your legs for his fingers to better slide against your folds. You moan at the feeling. He smiles and bites his lip. “I’ve wanted you for so long. You’re so sexy.” He whispers against your mouth and you kiss him again. He pushes his tongue between your lips and they dance together, fighting for dominance. He slowly puts a finger inside you, and you gasp. He slowly pumps his finger, adding a second one. He uses his thumb to rub your sweet spot as his fingers move faster.
“JJ,” you moan and one of your hands tangles in his hair. You head falls back and your eyes close.
“Does that feel good?” He kisses your chin down to the crook of your neck.
“So good.” You quake at the feeling of his fingers. The sensation starts to build and your legs tighten closed. The feeling is so intense that you almost can’t take it. You grab onto the wrist of the hand that’s inside you. “Fuck!” You moan and your forehead rests against JJ’s.
“I want to make you cum, baby. Cum for me.” Those words and the circle rubbing on your clit push you over the edge. You let out a scream and your whole being is washed over with utter sensation. You open your eyes, your forehead still on JJ’s. He has a smile on his face as his pulls his fingers out of you and into his mouth. He sucks on them and your mouth falls open in hunger. “You taste so sweet.”
“God, I want you to fuck me so bad.”
“You don’t have to ask twice.” He pulls the bow on your back and your swim top falls loose around your breasts. He lifts it over your head. He then pulls the ties on either side of your bottoms and they fall onto the blanket. You are left exposed, and his eyes rake over your body. “You don’t know how many times I’ve tried to picture you naked.” You laugh at his words.
“Is it everything you hoped for?”
“Better than I could have ever imagined.” He runs his fingers over your exposed belly, up to your chest. He runs circles around one of your nipples and you let out a sigh.
“Take your shorts off. I need you.” He stands and pulls his shorts down. His cock is hard and slaps his stomach. You get on your knees and run your fingers along the v his muscles make. He holds in a breath and you bite your lip. You wrap your hand around the base of his member, lining it up with your mouth. You stick out your tongue and lick from shaft to tip. He groans and grabs your hair into a pony tail in his hand. You open your mouth, and slide him inside you, as far back as your throat will let. You then pull back, and shove him in again. You try to fit all of him as you pick up pace, but his size makes you gag. The vibration makes him throw his head back in pleasure for a moment. You look up, with his cock down your throat, and he is watching you suck him off.
“Oh my god, baby fuck. That feels so fucking good.” You swirl your tongue around him several times and pump the rest of him with your hand. This send him and his legs start to shake. “Stop, stop.” He pushes you off. “Lay down,” he orders, and you follow, with your back on the blanket. He grabs your knees and pulls your legs apart forcefully. He makes sure he is lined up with your entrance, but stops before entering. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have not wanted anything more.” He leans over you, kissing you hard. He slowly enters you, and you wince. You haven’t had sex in a while, and his size stretches you.
“Are you okay,” he asks, a worried look on his face.
“Just go slow,” you say. He nods and continues to enter. You groan and squeeze his shoulder. Once he is fully in, his other hand holds himself up on the other side of your head. He rears back, and then thrusts into you. Your nails dig into his shoulder and he groans. “Sorry, does that hurt,” you ask, realizing how deep you’ve dug your nails in.
“No, it feels so good. You’re so tight.” He thrusts in again, and your nails pull down his back in pain and pleasure. He starts to pick up speed and you feel yourself tighten around him. His face falls closer to you so he can suck on your neck. The pleasure is unbearable as you continuously dig your nails in. You scream as he becomes faster, and your teeth sink into his shoulder. He moans loud in your ear. You fingers claw at his back, as if holding on for dear life, as if it try to cope with the sensations.
He suddenly grabs you by your waist and flips so he is sitting, and you are straddling him. He grabs a fist full of your hair and roughly kisses you. You are now bouncing on top of him. You can’t go as fast as he can, but this position makes him somehow enter you deeper. Your hands tug at his hair and his free hand grabs one of your bouncing tits. He pinches your nipple and you moan into his mouth. Your foreheads meet again, this time they are both soaked in sweat.
“I can’t last much longer,” you moan.
“It’s okay, I’m so close,” he pants and kisses you again. A few more pumps and you can’t take it anymore. You orgasm for a second time. JJ lifts you off of him fast and cum shoots out of him and onto your stomach. You both laugh, not able to believe what just happened. “That was fucking amazing.” You both smile.
“I’ve thought about you for so long. I can’t believe it actually happened,” you say and tuck damp hair out of his face.
“And you bet your sexy ass it won’t be the last.”
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the-cannibal · 1 year
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Slashers with a s/o who has weird cravings for inedible things
Have you ever looked at tide pods, erasers, basically anything with a big DO NOT EAT CONTACT POISON CONTROL IF INGESTED sticker on them? Me too! So here’s a funny little thing for that!
Ps: please don’t actually eat any of the things in this- there are alternative things that you can actually eat that are similar to these things!
Gender neutral reader - they/them and you is used
Slashers included: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Jason Vorehees, Michael Myers, Brahms Heelshire, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher
Vincent Sinclair:
“Vinny Vinny Vinny!”
“???”
“Can I eat some of that wax?” You pointed off to the scraps on the table by the art piece he was currently working on.
“?!?!?!” Cue frantic signing - ‘Y/n no- you can’t eat that, it will make you sick! Why would you even want to in the first place?’
You shrugged. “I dunno. It just looks warm and tasty!”
Vincent will now make sure to keep an eye on you anytime you are around wax.
But one day your curiosity won, and he caught you mid lick on one of his sculptures.
Yeah he was all mother hen on you for a while.
Bo Sinclair:
Bo was in his garage (surprise surprise) working on a car. You decided to tag along.
“Hey Bo, can I drink some of that?”
“Sure darlin.” Bo had said without looking up. He has just assumed you were talking about the glass of ice tea he has sitting next to him.
It wasn’t until her heard you spitting up something into the dirt that he actually looked up and saw the bottle of oil in your hand…
“Y/n what the fuck?!” He shouted at you. He was angry sure but he was mostly concerned and didn’t want you to fucking poison yourself, so he stuck two fingers down your throat and forced you to puke.
“Why would you do that?!”
“It looked like root beer!” You shouted between coughs.
“God you’re almost as bad as Lester…”
Jason Vorhees:
Oh if you think this man will even let you get anything inedible anywhere near your mouth you are wrong.
Jason has had to swat out jelly erasers out of your hand while you were working on a drawing because the fake pink strawberry inside it was just too tempting for you. You now only get to use boring white erasers… which you were banned from for a while when you thought they looked like marshmallows.
“Hey Jason, what do you think tidepods taste like?” You are no longer aloud to do laundry by yourself.
But he would help make snacks for you that have said texture of whatever thing you want. Wanna eat sand? Here’s some granola he’s made and crushed up to look and feel like it!
Michael Myers:
You’ve probably eaten a lot of stuff you shouldn’t have- dude isn’t the most observant at first.
But the second he does catch you, he’s watching you like a hawk.
He about yelled at you when he saw you munching on one of his (thankfully clean) jump suits. But he didn’t and instead took it away from you, lightly tapping you on your nose, scolding you like you were a teething puppy.
Actually that is what he saw you as when you’d do this-
He isn’t a cooker or a baker but if he finds anything edible that he thinks would satisfy your cravings then he will take it.
Brahms Heelshire
“New rule! Y/n is not aloud to eat anything without Brahms’ permission!”
“Brahms I don’t think that’s gonna work-“
“THEN STOP TRYING TO EAT THE PIANO KEYS!”
What? The Heelshire’s have a lot of old stuff! A lot of old tasty looking stuff… like the piano and Brahms’ records.
Brahms sometimes feels like a nanny for you when it comes to food. He now sits on the counter and watches you like a bird hunting it’s prey to make sure you aren’t sneaking anything in your mouth you shouldn’t. Don’t worry Brahms! They’d never do that!… would you..?
Billy and Stu:
Stu does the same thing as you.
Billy feels like he needs to keep you both on those little backpacks with those leashes that keep kids from running into traffic.
He has put you two in them before… he calls it ‘dumb snacking jail’
You make a comment about how Billy would know all about being in a jail.
That earned you more time in dumb snacking jail-
“They aren’t hurting anyone!” Stu shouted
“Stu they are trying to eat rocks…”
“It’s not hurting anyone!”
“ITS HURTING THEM-?!”
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Note
Hii love! Can you write ‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you.’’ with JJ Maybank?? Thank you❤️
I miss my boy JJ <3 Only three weeks until we see him again!! Who is excited for the new season?
my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time
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Being stranded on 'Poguelandia' made you realize how you took many things for granted — especially your morning croissant and coffee — and the privilege of a hot shower and a soft pillow.
When you’ve lived your whole life in comfort, it’s hard to suddenly have nothing. When you escaped the boat with the rest of the pogues, you didn’t think you would come across an inhabited island and have to stay there for a while. It’s only been five days and you were starting to feel like the two kids in The Blue lagoon.
Everyone was in survival mode and helping in any way they could. You and Kiara had built a shelter for the night, Sarah and Cleo had gathered wood and some small fruits while the boys made good use of their fishing skills…and a makeshift spear.
It also made you reevaluate things. Like your relationship with JJ.
You had broken up shortly after Sarah and John B. were declared dead, both too emotional and heartbroken to be in a relationship. The ‘death’ of your friends had caused a massive crack in the group. Even the relationship between Kie and Pope had its hard moments, but unlike you and JJ, they were still together.
‘’I still love him. I never stopped,’’ you confessed to Kiara one late night on the beach while everyone was asleep.
Your eyes were on JJ, watching him sleeping soundly after sending your heart into panic earlier that day. Doing stupid shit was typical of JJ, but when he jumped from that cliff and he didn’t come up to the surface immediately, you got really scared. After almost drowning and definitely having a minor undiagnosed concussion, you could barely stand not having your eyes on him.
Kiara laid her head on your shoulder. ‘’I know.’’
Everybody knows.
If JJ had not been there, surviving on the island would’ve been harder. He was the sunshine in your life, always there to turn your grumpy frown into a smile after you had the worst sleep of your life and sand in places where sand should not be.
You’ve spent a lot of time together on Poguelandia, looking for coconuts and cracking them, teaching you how to catch a fish or watching the stars on nights neither of you could find sleep. It was nice to be close to him again.
But it wasn’t close enough.
‘’Can I eat that?’’ you asked, standing by a small bush of wild berries.
‘’If the berries are white, yellow, and green, don’t eat them,’’ JJ said, not even looking at the berries you were talking about. ‘’Some red berries are poisonous too, so be careful. If you eat a harmful berry, there could be great consequences. Red berries are roughly 50% safe to eat. And, if they are in clusters, they’re usually bad.’’
You nodded. Noted. ‘’Can I eat this one?’’
Growing up on the wealthier side of the island, you didn't know a lot of surviving tips. You didn’t even know how to pierce a coconut. Fortunately for you, JJ was there to help you out.
A small chuckle left JJ’s lips and he came over to you, checking the berries and plucking one from the branch. ‘’Open up, milady.’’ He held the small fruit before your mouth and you allowed him to feed it to you. ‘’If it taste weird, spit it out.’’
He was kidding. JJ would never let you eat a poisonous berry. He only said that to mess with you.
A call of your and JJ’s name made you whip your heads around to hear Pope saying the girls were swimming by the rocks and he and John B. were going to fetch more wood to make a fire tonight. You gave him a thumbs up and they left through the tall trees.
You plucked more berries from the branches, trying to calm your screaming stomach. Your body was not used to the small portion of food a deserted island had to offer.
While you were eating, JJ was trying to gather his words together. You hadn’t talked about what happened on the boat when he got knocked over, about when you saved his life. It was a difficult thing to think about and everyone respected your silence, but JJ wanted to thank you. If you had not jumped overboard and kept his head above water, he probably would have drowned.
‘’I…I didn't tell you, but what you did on the boat was brave as fuck,’’ he started, shifting his feet in the sand nervously. ‘’Jumping overboard like that? I wish I could've seen that.’’ A smile curled on his lips, imagining for a moment. ‘’Thanks for saving me.’’
When you saw him in the water, face down and not moving, you didn't hesitate and leaped. You would do again if you had to.
‘’Next time someone swings at you with a machete, you duck. I don’t want to play superhero again.’’ Your eyes welled up with tears and JJ pulled you against him. He didn't smell like weed and teen-boy deodorant anymore, just salt water and sweat, but he embrace still felt like JJ.
‘’I’ll try to remember.’’
‘’I almost gave up,’’ you confessed against his shoulder, ‘’but I wasn't going to abandon you. If you go down, I go down too.’’
JJ tightened his hold around you. He felt so lucky to have you in his shitty life.
You slipped your hands through the haphazardly cut holes of his shirt and spreading your fingers on his back. JJ went soft under your touch, his head falling into the space between his shoulder and neck. 
‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you. I always will.’’
OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx   @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue   @acornacreacure  
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ronearoundblindly · 4 months
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Steve Rogers, number 4, a kiss where it hurts (imagine him making it stop hurting) xxx
*no pairing listed but could work in Fools Rush In, It Had To Be You, Autumn Is Healing, Threadbare, or as a stand alone. While those series do specify female readers, this is written gender neutral. He calls you 'sweetheart' one time.
A Dark Day and A Bright Night, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024
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Warning only for description of a bad mental health time. (I know not everyone experiences this in the same way, but I tried to cover the gist and focus on Steve's comfort of you.) Otherwise, just sweet, caring fluff! WC 1781
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There are invisible barriers everywhere, and they stop no one but you.
No one else can hear the muddled whispers of what else you could have done, what more you should have accomplished, how disappointing it is that anything took so long.
You can’t do any better. You can’t go any farther. There’s a line in the sand no one can see. Sometimes, no one can see you.
Nothing matches up. Work fast-forwards around you in chaos while you slog through, treading water with all the energy of someone who has been out at sea alone for days and days. You grow so tired.
There are moments you power through, mind racing to gain lost ground on an endless, looped track. You grow so tired, and it’s never just one thing. It’s water and sand and nothing all at once, vast forces beyond your control.
What else? What more? Why so long?
There are barriers no one else can see, and it’s not their fault because it doesn’t match up. We move through life at different paces. We experience different struggles. We are stopped by different forces.
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“How was work?” Steve asks, a chipper smile on his face as he places dinner in front of you.
“Fine.” There are no other words.
“Really? Seems the project is right on schedule, thanks to you.”
You see him pause before he takes his first bite, and rush to pick up your fork, knowing it’s best to participate, knowing the barriers may be invisible but effort is not.
He eats his mouthful, and you stare.
Dinner isn’t a line in the sand, but it feels like one, another interaction you’ll be disappointing in, another fear you can’t explain.
“Not my best work, but it got done,” you manage, mechanically feeding yourself, showing the effort, making a show of the effort. “How was your day?”
It’s a flat question. The response is muddled by water and wind and doubt.
Why can’t you focus? Why can’t you do better for him? Why does he stay?
Steve can’t see any of it. He can’t get to you because there’s no one place you’re trapped in.
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You do the dishes. You watch TV. You start your bedtime ritual, and you’ve participated as little—and as much—as possible because treading water is lonely. You grow so tired.
Tomorrow could be better. You can do better tomorrow. It’ll take effort.
Tomorrow you’ll work harder and you’ll be less afraid. But that’s what you thought the last time you were stuck. That’s what you think each time you find a line in the sand.
You stare at your reflection, still treading, still scared, still misaligned.
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“Did you hear me?” Steve loosely holds you with his palm on your hip. Standing behind you, face sullen in the mirror, he asks where you’re hurting.
To Steve, there has to be a solution. Each mission must have a goal.
You spit, rinse, and put your toothbrush in the holder.
“Just tired.” That’s the sand he cannot see.
“Seems like more than ‘just tired,’” he huffs, unsatisfied, and turns you toward him. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing you can help with.” That’s the water he cannot navigate.
You’re on your own.
He smirks humorlessly. “That’s never stopped me before.”
But you don’t have the words. All that comes out is “my head.”
“Headache?” He reaches for the medicine cabinet. “You need some—“
You shake your physically fine skull. “No. It’s not a headache.”
Steve’s face…changes in a way you’ve never seen before. You expected confusion, perhaps pity, but this is something all-together reminiscent. His eyes dart around the bathroom like he’s taking inventory, and for the first time today you aren’t the most distracted person in the room.
Then he returns to you.
“I think I’d like a nice bath. Will you join me?”
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He sets it all up, using the best smelling bubbles, setting out the softest towels, and inviting you back into the little spa he created by handing you a lovely chocolate.
When you try to refuse because you’ve already brushed your teeth, he replies, “live dangerously,” and pops a bonbon for himself.
Hopefully, it is dark enough for Steve to miss the tears in your eyes.
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He lets you settle in the water against him, playing by splashing warmth over the parts not submerged. He kisses your shoulders and neck, the back of your head. Steve keeps himself attached by the lips, breathing you in but feeling so far away. Your mind wanders to nowhere, thinking nothing.
“Feels good—I mean, bett—feels okay, yeah?”
He suds up his hands and washes a bit of you, but your muscles are tight and curled.
You’re tucked into yourself, small as can be.
“Can you try to relax for me, sweetheart? Can you let yourself float?”
The tub works for a guy Steve’s size. There’s a little space but not enough to stretch out completely.
The tension in your body is slow to release. You manage to let your arms, knees, and feet peak through the bubble clouds.
Steve nudges, “and your neck?”
You didn’t realize you were holding it up.
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There is infinite space to lay flat in your endless sea. Floating offers a respite, a view of the sky, the same sky blanketing your beach.
Invisible barriers at least spare the scenery.
You and Steve watch the fragrant foam burst for a while. It takes you much longer to truly relax back into Steve. The quiet of the bath drowns you with the noise in your head.
What else? What more? Why so slow?
It’s never just one thing. It is all things, all at once, and nothing at all. All of the elements to survival and understanding are there if you just focus your attention, if you just put in the effort, but you are so tired.
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Steve wraps you in his arms to press you deeper into his chest.
“Sometimes my ma would burn dinner,” he starts quietly, voice rough from holding back all his questions you can’t answer, “and we would scramble around, combing the cupboards. We’d make the oddest meals out of bits and bobs. Maybe half of it, we should’a never touched, but we did what we had to. Ya know what? Those were some of the best times. We did the best we could with what we had—sometimes less—and that’s what made her so amazing. On what she probably considered her worst days,” Steve kisses behind your ear, “I admired her the most. Formed some of the best memories.”
“Let me guess. Because she smiled the whole way through?”
“Nah,” he muses, chuckling enough to shake you in the water, “she threw a pan once. Loosened the door of the stove she slammed it shut so hard. She cried usually until we were sat down eating. Always tried to give me the most food because I was so small… 
“I made it a game. I only took a bite if she did. Win-win.” 
He stays quiet for a beat, assured you’re hearing him.
“You’re not ruining anything by crying,” he says solidly, almost loud in the confines of the bathroom. “Good things can still happen. You still did good today.”
He continues. He details little things he admires about you; how hard you work for yourself, for him, he notices all that. He wants you to see what he sees.
There’s no barrier stopping him.
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The water turns tepid, and Steve gets out first to ready a towel for you. There’s a difference between him treating you like a china doll and his doll. His doll is not breakable. He isn’t gentle because you are fragile; he does it to preserve you for the next day, and the next. Steve refuses to place any more burden on you than already falls.
He’s right there, strong, noble, and determined with forces working against him.
He’s scared and he doesn’t understand. He can’t fight. He has to scramble to catch up, to change plans, to make a meal out of nothing, to turn nothing into something. He doesn’t understand why he’s in a different sea, or why he can’t get to you standing on the same damn beach. His hand is right there on the barrier, but his shouts are muddled.
It’s not fair, and it never will be.
He physically lifts you up, wrapped in a plush bath sheet, his hug strong enough to thump against that clear wall that springs from your line in the sand.
That’s when you realize the barrier isn’t impenetrable. You can still see the scenery. You can still hear muddled sounds.
Some of his voice gets through. Sunlight and warmth get through. The water still buoys you up.
If there are directions to go, there are paths to take.
If there are ways in, there are ways out. 
There are invisible barriers everywhere, but they don’t stop Steve from being there for you.
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One more chocolate. One more brush of your teeth. You trade the fluffy wrap of a towel with the cozy wrap of a t-shirt, and he makes sure you’re comfortable.
A simple goodnight kiss alone might tip you over into exhausted euphoria, but Steve is not that kind of simple.
He props himself up on an elbow and rolls you onto your back.
Kissing your right temple, he whispers, “I love you.” Kissing your left temple, he confesses, “I love your voice,” the peak of your forehead, “I love your spirit,” between your eyebrows, just above one ear, and the other.
“Miss you when I’m not here. Miss you when you’re not here. I miss you even in my dreams.”
Then, and only then, do you get that simple kiss goodnight. His soft lips melding to yours for a long, soothing moment before you two drift off to sleep.
When you dream of a beach and an ocean and nothing at all, you miss him, too. You remember his presence, and the truth becomes as clear as the sky above.
There are pieces of you to love. You are a loved thing. You are light and heat and sound that can get through, even when misaligned, even when you don’t match up, even when not in the same sea.
Steve’s love is invisible, but you know it’s there. It’s not a limit to fear. It’s not a barrier to turn away from. His love is not an obstacle you want to get past.
Not every invisible force is bad.
Sometimes, barriers slow you down, let you listen, make you rest, and help you float.
There are barriers everywhere, but nothing between you and Steve.
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Ransom Drysdale and a kiss out of spite ⬅️ ➡️ Ari Levinson and a kiss out of envy
A/N: oof. *walks away crying* I'm fine. It's fine.
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
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ficmashup · 5 months
Text
Taken
Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.
A/N: Nothing like a sprinkle of angst on Christmas Eve. ;) I will be doing a part two for this because I can't resist, but can't promise when I'll post it. Soon, I hope! Have a lovely holiday to everyone celebrating. :)
Warnings: SA mentions if you squint, crass language, death, stabbing, beating, shooting, torture, angst, trauma, overall I just decided to stab the characters in the feels. Just a bit. Happy ending though, imo.
Word Count: 4.7k
Masterlist
It’s not expected, but then again, these things never are.
What kills me the most is that Ghost had to be there, had to see it. I’d rather it had been anyone else just so I could spare him the pain of reopening old wounds. We’d been clearing a warehouse and stumbled upon more than we’d expected. We both realize our mistake at different times and I have a split-second decision to make. I’m ahead of Ghost by a dozen or so feet and hidden behind a pile of crates, so I see the group first.
There’s no time to warn Ghost and if he comes forward, he’ll be shot on sight. So I step forward first. I take out those closest to his entry point and my focus on keeping him safe leaves me vulnerable. Ghost moves in just as I’m grabbed from behind and I ram the butt of my gun backward into my captor’s ribs. There’s a grunt, but he doesn’t let go and I drop my gun to hang from my chest in exchange for the long knife on my thigh. I plunge the blade into his thigh and hear a string of curses spat into my ear as their grip only tightens on me.
I fail to realize that during the struggle, they’ve managed to drag me backward towards a side door. My last view as I twist the knife is Ghost’s wide eyes behind the mask before my head is slammed against the wall and all goes dark.
*     *     *
I wake up tied to a chair. I keep utterly still and take stock of my body. My head is heavy and I feel the tightness of the skin on the right side of my face from where blood has dried. There’s a sharp sting coming from across my collar bone and my right ankle twinges. A sprained ankle and a scrape, I’d guess. Possibly a concussion. Nothing too bad. My wrists and ankles are tied to the arms and legs of a chair and the rope chafes, but the ties are sloppy. Keeping me here like this was unexpected, then. An opportunity that they couldn’t pass up.
I keep my breathing steady and my head bowed with my eyes shut. All I do for a few moments is listen. There’s shuffling and voices, but they’re muffled and seem to be coming from a nearby room. Multiple people, but more than likely less than a dozen. I take a chance and open my eyes, looking up and finding the space dim and empty. It looks like a shack barely held together by the sand and dirt covering the floor.
“Awake.” A voice with a rough accent comes from behind me and my spine stiffens as he moves in front of me. He’s limping slightly and I get a brief moment of satisfaction at knowing this is the man who grabbed me and I clearly dealt some serious damage. With the dried blood on my face and him being able to walk after clear medical assistance, I’d say I’ve been gone a few hours. The fact makes what’s left in my stomach curdle.
The man says a few words that I don’t understand, then one that I do. “…bitch.”
I chuckle softly. “Unoriginal.” His fist darts out and the hit is harder than I expect. It leaves me dizzy as the weak chair rocks with the impact. Stays on all fours, though. The man grunts and spits at my feet before walking to the door, apparently satisfied with his revenge. He opens the door and shouts something down the hall before looking at me with ill intent in his eyes. I shift a bit in my chair, noting that they’ve removed my uniform and boots. I’m only in tight shorts and my tank top. It’s going to be torture then. Fine. I’ve already been through hell and lived through it, fashioned myself teeth from the mouths of my demons I killed, I can take whatever poor imitation these amateurs try.
Three more men come in and one steps in front of the others. “Why you here?” He asks in broken English.
“To kill people like you.” I answer simply, staring unblinkingly at him.
He gives me a smile. “Coincidence. That is why we here as well. To kill people like you.” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. That’s the base of every conflict in the history of the world. He pulls his handgun and aims it at my forehead while I go completely still. “Tell me more.”
*     *     *
Hours pass. The torture is easy enough to sit through, nothing unexpected, nothing skilled, nothing I haven’t been trained for. The true killer is waiting with my own thoughts. Like thinking that they aren’t coming for me. Stupid. Utterly stupid. Yet the persistent feeling of being unworthy lingers in my chest. And I know that the longer I’m here, the more nagging those thoughts will be.
They can finally be rid of you, no trouble, no hassle, just a lost soldier, happens all the time.
I gasp as a soldier lands a particularly well-aimed punch to my gut and the chair finally falls over. I feel the arm crack at the impact while the group laughs, but the ropes around my right wrist and ankle are now free. My fingers slowly curl around the splintered piece of wood hidden under my body. One of the men waves his hand and another steps forward and yanks the chair back up. I use the momentum of the sudden movement to plunge the long piece of wood into his throat and get my free leg up under me to keep me from toppling over.
The man’s eyes go wide as he chokes on his own blood and everyone else in the room is frozen with shock. I take advantage of that and take the gun in the man’s thigh holster and manage to shoot two men before they draw their guns and one more before they manage to shoot. I use the body of the man I stabbed as cover, but I can barely hold him up. I grunt under the impact of a bullet hitting his dead weight and feel another bullet graze my shoulder before the door straight across from me bursts open. I take advantage of the distraction and shoot one more while the other gets a bullet between the eyes from the intruder’s gun.
I turn on instinct and level my gun at the intruders, stopping my finger just in time when I see the distinct, pale skull mask. “Fuck.” I lower the gun and let the body drop to the floor as Ghost pushes in, but I don’t miss the way he looks me over.
His hand grabs his radio before anything. “Clear, I’ve got the package.” He slings his gun over his back as he reaches me and I don’t realize that I’m trembling until he guides my hand to his shoulder to keep me upright as he unties my other wrist and ankle. My fingers cling to his tac vest like a lifeline.
“Confirmed. If package is secure, move out.” Price’s voice comes over the radio and my heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and my hand still holding the gun twitches before I recognize Soap moving into the doorway to watch our backs.
“Clear, LT.” He reports before looking me over with wide eyes. I must really look like shit then.
“Affirmative.” Ghost responds over the radio with a wave back at Soap to tell him the same. “How bad, G?” He asks gruffly once the flimsy chair falls to the floor behind me and he stands up, keeping his forearms within my reach so I can use him to stand. His fingers graze my arms too, not gripping or grabbing, simply guiding.
My head shakes as I stare at him. “Not bad. Nothing broken.”
He nods in return and pulls out my uniform shirt and pants that he must have collected from the other room. My boots too. “Then let’s go. Can you walk?” I take my clothes gratefully and he keeps to my side while I slide the top on with only a slight wince as the fabric slides over the open wounds covering me. The pants are a little more difficult, but I manage before nodding to Ghost that I’m ready. He wraps an arm around my waist and I lower his hand to my hip as my ribs ache with protest. He corrects his grip and we limp out with Soap leading, gun up.
A few more bodies litter the narrow hall and the room beyond, but the true relief is when we walk outside and I can see the stars. I hadn’t realized how stale the air was in that shack and how the metallic smell of blood had stained my nostrils. I gulp down the cool air before I press my lips together as I hold in a laugh. My shoulders start shaking and Ghost’s pace falters before I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just the shock and exhaustion.” Laughter taints every word and I swear Ghost’s eyebrows furrow with concern before we keep moving.
“You get scarier all the time, G.” Soap comments ahead and I can’t hold back a low laugh even as I shake my head at myself.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I breathe as the giggles make every word waver.
Ghost’s grip tightens as we carefully scale down the side of the rocky hill. “Not sure what you’re apologizin’ for. You fuckin’ got taken watching my ass and I’d rather have you laughin’ than anything else.”
My head shakes, the laughter fading as I struggle to keep my feet moving while my body starts to shut down. “I’m sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come for me.” Ghost comes to a full stop now as I look between the men and Soap has shock scrawled over his face.
“Course we did, lass. The hell you talkin’ bout?” Soap’s accent gets a little thicker, betraying how deep my words hit.
Ghost starts to move again and I stumble after him even though he’s practically carrying me on his hip. “Keep movin’.” He grumbles and regret lingers in my chest as we fall silent the rest of the way. At the bottom of the rocky path sits a car and my heart beats a little faster at seeing the two figures waiting there for us. Ghost picks me up and carries me the rest of the way before immediately handing me to Price once we’re close enough. He holds me close and tight for far too brief a moment before sitting me on the hood of the car. The moonlight is just bright enough to make out each other’s features and I can’t get enough of his eyes, even with the worry filling them.
“You broken?” He asks quietly and I can hear how the words drag and crackle on the way out of his chest. His hand perches on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point to feel my heart beating.
I give him a weak smile. “Just a bit chipped. Nothing permanent.” I promise and it’s a gift to see a little tension leave his shoulders. “But I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to be kept conscious as we head back.”
“Still the medic, hm?” He teases dryly but the attempt at humor soothes me more than anything else. “Gaz, let’s go. Fast and steady.” Price pushes the keys into Gaz’s hands as he passes by with a wink, pushing something small that crinkles in my hand. A real smile tugs on my lips. A candy. We pile in the car and it’s a surprise to find myself pressed tight between Ghost and Price with Gaz driving and Soap in the passenger seat. It’s as if everyone traded seats.
“Did…did either of you grab my med kit?” I ask as my head gets a bit dizzy and I pop the hard candy Gaz gave me into my mouth. Soap turns in his seat with a half-grin, holding up my kit. My hands reach for it, but Ghost intercepts and pulls it into his lap.
“What d’ya need?” He asks as he opens it and looks over the contents.
I shift the candy into my cheek. “Bandages. My ankle’s fucked. Need to wrap it at least.” Ghost glances at Price and they instantly come to a nonverbal agreement as John shifts me closer to him while Simon gingerly lifts my foot into his lap. I frown. “I can do it—”
“Let him. That’s an order.” John’s voice in my ear and the command in it has my body stiffening for a moment, then laxing a moment after. My back is pressed against John’s chest with his arm thrown across my middle, his hand heavy on my hip to use it as a steadying point rather than put any pressure on my ribs. He must’ve noticed how Ghost was holding me earlier. Doesn’t miss a thing, my Captain.
Ghost eases my boot off and my hands clench at the pain, but he’s careful and the steady ache of the rest of my body makes it easy enough to sit through. Once my sock is off too, he takes out a small flashlight and I grimace as the light illuminates just how bad my ankle looks. It’s red and swollen from all the activity I forced it through after the sprain. Ghost starts wrapping and I nod when he looks at me to make sure he’s doing it correctly.
When he’s finished and I’m satisfied, I move to pull my foot away, but he keeps a firm hold on it. He gives me a deadpan look. “Keep it elevated.”
I give him a look back that I’m sure is a bit lackluster given my current condition. “It’s supposed to be elevated above my heart, but that’s not happening in the car.”
“Better this than nothing.” Ghost responds without a second of hesitation and his eyes don’t budge from mine. My mouth opens again, then shuts when Price gives my hip a soft squeeze. My lips purse, but I don’t say another word as I relax into John and try to keep my eyes open. I rest my hand on John’s knee and my thumb slides back and forth as I breathe in his scent.
“Give me a list of injuries.” He says and I nod, fighting through the fog of my mind to think clearly.
“Uh, sprained ankle, head wound, possible concussion, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs on my right side, a bullet graze to my left shoulder, and some bumps and bruises.” I go over the list twice in my head before nodding slightly in confirmation. The car is silent for a few beats and I feel a weight settle over all of us. The weight that comes with caring for someone else and hurting when they’re hurt. I swallow, struggling to accept the feeling rather than struggle against it and feel guilty for inflicting it on others. In truth, it’s a choice they all made. I choice I made too, when I let them in.
“Don’t think I ever asked how you are when you’re the one who needs to be treated.” John barely breaks the silence, but the tension lessens when I hum a tired laugh.
“Oh, I’m sweet as sugar, Captain. Naturally.” That gets chuckles from most of the men in the car.
“Liar.” Soap accuses, grinning back at me and I give him a smile in return. Also, I show him my middle finger. He returns the gesture instantly and happiness flits through me at the simple banter.
“You’re not gonna be difficult for me, are you, sugar?” John whispers just low enough for me to hear and I smile, wincing as it stretches a cut on my cheek.
“I like to think I behave better than most of you do when you need care.” I give Ghost a pointed look since he’s the worst of the bunch and he grunts, shaking his head while Soap and Gaz make noises of dissent.
Price shifts and my grip tightens on his knee until he settles again. “I remember being pretty docile last time.”
“After some convincing.” I return, my eyes shutting for just a moment before I feel light flicking at my nose. My eyes open and see Ghost pulling his hand back, head shaking with eyes on mine. I nod once. Got to stay awake. It goes on like this for the rest of the drive. One or all of them keeping up a conversation with me while Ghost taps my nose, pulls my ear, or annoys me in some other way when I start to drift. When we arrive at base, I can barely give one-word answers because I’m so exhausted.
The men rush me into the medical tent and I hate being set on the bed, hate being the one who needs treatment, hate the starchy feel of the sheets, and hate being poked and prodded. There’s a deep frown on my face as I allow the medics to do their job and they give Price the same list of injuries that I gave him earlier. Only after they hear that, and that I’m going to be fine with rest and treatment, Price dismisses the others and they reluctantly go. Although Gaz slips me another hard candy before he goes and gets a smile out of me.
Price stays. Even after the medics pull me aside and push me into a sterile bath to clean all my cuts after I practically showered in that man’s blood, I return smelling like chemicals and find Price waiting. I give him a look and the corner of his mouth lifts, but I can’t bring myself to verbally scold him. His presence settles me as it always has and that’s something I’m especially grateful for while I’m here.
There are a few places where I need stitches and I sit through it silently, Price and I just looking each other over. Seeing that we’re both alive and safe. The medics wrap my ankle again and lay me down in bed with it elevated while I try to keep my grumbling to a minimum. I’m exhausted, but this place, this position, keeps me on edge. But it’s getting harder to resist.
“Just sleep.” John says with a hint of humor in his voice as he sits in the chair next to me.
I heave a breath, nodding. “I’m not fighting it. Just hard to do in a place like this.” He moves a touch closer and breathing comes a little easier as his fingers slot with mine, the tips of his fingers sliding over the length of mine. He understands more than most why I’m having trouble.
“You’re not going to be alone here. Not for a second.” He promises with nothing but sincerity in those lovely blue eyes. My lips press together.
“I can’t ask you for that.”
“You’re not. I’m giving it to you.” He returns instantly and I can’t help but melt. Can’t argue with that. “Sleep.” His other hand raises to slide over my head, his fingers twisting a few locks of hair between them. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I don’t mean to fall asleep, but his gentle touch lulls me into peace in seconds.
*     *     *
I wake up feeling a slight weight settling on top of me and I’m on alert in a split second, my eyes flashing open and my hands darting out to grab what I can. The person freezes and I end up staring into dark eyes with their wrist in one hand and the collar of their shirt in the other. “Just me, G.” The voice takes a few moments to sink in, but I relax a second later with a grimace as the sudden movement tweaked my ribs.
“Ghost.” I breathe and slowly release him while he lets go of my wrist that he grabbed to keep me from choking him. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” I tease and he hums as he sits in the chair next to me, moving it as close to the bed as he can. I settle back down and note that the slight weight was another one of his jackets laid over my chest. A little smile pulls on my lips at the sight.
“Think I’d have learned by now. Especially since you still have my other jacket.” He flicks his chin towards the one covering me and I smirk while my heartbeat slowly calms. He’s only wearing the cloth that covers his face tonight and there’s no black smudged around his eyes. It’s as close to being Simon as he allows himself to be on base.
“I always meant to return it.” I say honestly, thinking fondly of his jacket hanging in my closet back home. “Think I like it too much now. I’ll get you another one.” That earns me a rare chuckle as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Sounds good.” He agrees and there’s that little glint in his eye that tells me he has something to say. He’s either waiting until he’s ready to say it, or he’s still mulling over the words in his mouth. “Took me a solid ten minutes to get Price out of here.” I smile, imagining the soft argument followed by Ghost shoving Price out of the infirmary.
“Thanks for relieving him.”
He shakes his head. “Not a problem.”
“And you wanted to talk to me.” I help him along a bit with amusement in my voice as his fingers knit together and his gaze steadies on mine.
“I did.” He confirms and now I wait, letting him decide when he’s ready to talk. My hands slide over the jacket he laid over me, grateful for the lack of chemical smell emanating from it. It just smells like him. Like bitter tea leaves and a small citrus tang that usually taints his clothes. Probably his detergent. “I don’t forgive you.” He starts and my attention immediately shifts to him and his dark eyes trained on mine. “I don’t accept your apology for thinking we wouldn’t come for you because that’s bullshit and I won’t forgive you until you never fucking believe that again.”
My eyes widen when I hear the heat in his tone. It’s not that odd to hear Ghost get riled up, especially around Soap, but I’ve never had him take that tone with me. Not seriously. “I know it was stupid.”
“Damn right.” He grumbles and I give him a pointed look for rubbing it in. “Say it. Tell me you know we’ll always come for you.” His gaze is unyielding and I know he means it.
“I know the team will always come for me.” Even to my ears, the words sound hesitant. Ghost’s eyes narrow.
“You say that every day ’til it feels as natural as your fucking name. And I’ll ask you to say it every once and a while. ‘Til it’s a reflex.” I sigh, but his tone is insistent. After a moment, I relent with a nod and he pins me in place with his eyes before nodding back and relaxing again in his chair. “You don’t get to save my ass, then think we’re not coming after you. Never believe that, G.”
“I get it, Ghost. I’ll do it.” Because it’s important to him and because he’s clearly trying to do something good for me, even if it’s something I hesitate to do. “And when I can stand without falling over, I’ll give you a hug for being such a pain in my ass.” The mask twitches and his eyes crinkle so I know he’s smiling.
“We’ll see if you can catch me to do it.” He returns and I smirk, knowing he’ll let me. “Now, go on and pass out. Price’ll have my hide if I keep you up.”
“Mmhmm.” I smile and let my exhaustion catch up with me, falling asleep a little easier with his scent in my nose rather than the chemicals that cleaned my body.
The next time I wake, Soap has taken Ghost’s place and morning light is seeping into the tent. “Morning, lass.” He greets and I give him a bleary grunt in return. “Cheery in the morning.” He quips and I’m about to tell him what he can do with his cheer before he points to a tray beside me. “That’s for you, if you’re up for it. Will ye let me help you up without bitin’ me?” Soap gets up and I nod, grabbing onto his arms as they slide under mine to pull me up into a sitting position.
A long breath leaves me as pain echoes through my body with every movement, but Johnny is gentle and makes sure to stack pillows behind me before moving back. He pushes a glass of water into my hand along with some pills. “Nurses said to give those to ya.”
I raise a brow and take the pills despite how my face hurts. I bet I really look like shit. “They trusted you with a task? I’m shocked.”
He smirks. “At least your spirits are still high.” Soap reaches over and pulls the tray closer to hover over my lap. “Eat up. Took everything in me not to steal your applesauce.” I hum amusedly, picking up the small container first and happily digging into the sweet treat. Soap flicks my ear. “Cruel lass. Careful, I might rethink my offer.”
I pause and raise a brow. “Offer?”
Mischief glints in his eyes and I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “You’re coming to Scotland with me.” He says with a smug grin. “The group we took out last night were the last few we were after, so we’re on leave starting the day after tomorrow. Since you’ve got no one waitin’ for ya at home, I’m takin’ ya with me to see my family. So I can keep an eye on ya.” He winks at me while I blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.
“That’s…that’s not necessary, Soap. I can take care of myself.” I frown as I think of myself laying on his couch surrounded by his family, just taking up space. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you and your family.” Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone’s family. Parents…I haven’t been around parents in at least a fucking decade.
“Too bad.” Soap answers instantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told my Ma and she’s excited to meet ya. If you resist, I’ll carry you there slung over my shoulder.” I pout, setting my food down on the tray as I try to think of a way out of this. “Come on, lass, it’ll be fun. You only have to stay off your foot for a little while and I’ll be there to entertain you in the meantime.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I look at him and if anyone can pull off a puppy dog look, it’s Johnny. After a few moments I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re sure your family doesn’t mind—”
“They’re fucking thrilled, G. Come on, just say you’ll come without a fight.” He leans forward and nudges my leg gently.
A smile tugs on my lips and I’ll admit the thought of seeing Johnny at home is a tempting one. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come.” His face brightens immediately and his big grin makes accepting worth it.
“You won’t regret it. One minute in Scotland and you’ll never want to leave.” He assures me and I nod along, listening with a fond smile as he tells me about his sisters, his mother’s cooking, and his father’s terrible jokes. To my own surprise, I find myself actually…looking forward to it.
Taglist (hello, lovelies, hope you enjoy. Lmk if anyone wants to be tagged):
@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree
@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady
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wishluc · 1 year
Text
˗ˏ Playing Stupid Games
Silly little piece ft yandere alhaitham because I'm exhausted after farming for him. I hate you alhaitham!!! (I do not). I just want to shake him by the collar ♡. Not to be taken Seriously
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Alhaitham's nonchalance irritates you to no end.
His casual disregard for the rage that boils beneath your skin and the frustration that's beginning to pile up on your shoulders, his apathetic glances at the splotches of color that decorate your arms after yet another attempt at climbing out a window, his offhanded comments and the way the slightest hint of something simultaneously amused and arrogant laced his words after the fact.
"I hope this will help you learn that you are here now,," he told you the first time, "and these pathetic attempts won't get you very far."
You hiss under your breath, "I don't want to be here."
He smiles at you. a cruel turn of his mouth, faux concern and mockery in his gaze, "Is that so? Well, that's too bad."
Nothing phases him, not the spite-filled words you spit at his feet or the frigid iciness of your stubborn silence. Any attempt is met with that same, cruel smile and retribution tenfold. Except his angry words come in the form of lost privileges—little things you'd hardly thought you'd miss until he had ripped it away from you. Even if it was just him taking away the warm drink you cradle every morning or the mattress you slept on, the slightest shift from the strict schedule he had you adapt to set your whole mood off. You're left feeling odd and uneasy for the rest of the day, and just when you get used to this routine, he switches back to your old one.
Your next attempt at revenge was hiding his things. It sounds useless, but when you're stuck indoors with nothing to do and with burning resentment, there's very little you can do to get back at Alhaitham. So, when he's out for work, you take his favorite mug and place it into a drawer filled with old gifts he doesn't look twice at, and you snatch up his pens and shove them somewhere under his mattress. You debate targeting his headphones, but he doesn't ever leave them lying around. Alhaitham finds everything every single time, but even then, he only gives you his usual unimpressed look and stalks off to do his work somewhere.
Some other petty tries involved using up all the hot water in the morning so he has to take a shower in the freezing cold water ("For your information, I always take cold showers," Alhaitham tells you over breakfast, much to your chagrin), placing the bookmarks in his current reads at different pages (He glances over at you, still unruffled, and shakes his head before flipping the page. The fury that fills your head almost makes you explode on him), and you even manage, on a day where you had to follow him out, sneak some sand into his shoes ("Good try," he clicked his tongue, "I'll have to reward you at home." Still, he trudges back with you by his side all the same, even if he was walking a little slower than usual, he didn't seem very affected. You hoped to save some sand to pour into his socks instead, but he stopped you. Yet another fail).
But now, you've got a wonderful idea, one you were sure won't fail to irritate him—after all, it's the very same trick he uses on you regularly. Every morning, Alhaitham has a warm cup of coffee to wake himself up and get ready to work. After observing his morning habits for as long as you have, you know how he brews his coffee by heart.
You can't throw out all the coffee in the house, but you have a better alternative. One that should frustrate him even more.
After he makes his cup, Alhaitham turns around for a few moments to reach for whatever book he was reading at the moment, before settling down. He used to try and spend this time talking to you, but you had hardly been cooperative during this time, and he had decided to leave you be—you suspect his morning listlessness had something to do with that.
He shoots you a suspicious glance when he notices you up and ready for him by the counter, but trudges past you without any accusations directed at you. He doesn't say a word as he brews his coffee, and you don't either, closely watching his every move, lying in wait as you wait for your prey to get distracted. Your heart pounds as he finishes stirring his drink, and just as he turns away to put everything away, you pounce, snatching up the mug and gulping down the hot liquid. A familiar, bitter taste fills your mouth, and there's a slight numbness in your throat, not quite used to swallowing something hot that quickly. By the time you've managed to place his empty mug back on the counter, Alhaitham had turned back around.
He exhales sharply, looking at you with that unreadable expression, and as he finally utters your name, you notice something. There's a slight strain in his voice, one you might not have normally noticed; but after all the time you've been stuck here with only his voice, apart from the the whistle of the kettle and the soft ticking of the clock, you could recognize the tiniest fluctuation. And you heard it, just then as he spoke, an unusual quaver—a slight emphasis that clearly wasn't intentional and an almost-choke—which was all you needed. The realization dawns upon you like a glorious revelation; you had finally been able to shake that apathetic exterior, even if only by a little.
Some part of you is disturbed by how intensely you've been studying him, if you're able to pick apart all the details in his voice. A larger part of you is excited at the small victory. With your eyes greedily observing him again, you pick up on more things—his eyebrows are slightly raised, and not in that sarcastic manner, his eyes widened just a fraction, but you revel in the joy of seeing anything other than smugness or indifference on him. You saunter away back to the safe corner of your bed, pleased with the little sign of weakness you've discovered. He'd get back at you soon enough, but the bitter taste of hard-earned victory would linger in your mouth for a while to come.
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all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)
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jordisblogg · 4 months
Text
a/n: no title bc i couldn’t think of one plus this isn’t rlly a fic, js a lil smth i was thinking about. the last part of it was inspired by this su comic i read, though i can't remember what it was called..
heart beat, negative, lungs, deactivated, body, comprised.
you stared in horror as griot read you her vitals, her blood was all over your face, hands and clothes, but you didn’t dare wipe it.
there, your wife laid, impaled. red liquid pooling from her mouth and nose, her eyes were lifeless, she made no movement.
“would you like me to contact the others, ms.y/n?”
you gave no response to the ai, as everything slowly started to tune out, you couldn’t hear the outside world anymore, you couldn’t see it. all you could see your beloved laying on the ground in her own pool of blood.
the attack had begun earlier this evening. namor had decided he had wanted to cut off the deal they had both made, in fear of shuri lying to him and double crossing his nation.
“ms.y/n?”
he hadn’t done anything flashy like the last time he flooded the city. he instead got shuri alone. she was on her nightly visit to the beach just outside the woods, the last place her and her mother truly connected before she was taken from her. she would make sure there were no dora with her, not even you and namor must’ve known.
as she reminisced, the young monarch noticed the serpent god emerging from the ocean. she hadn’t treated him like an enemy, but she was still on edge whenever he was around.
“what is it that you want?”
“do you truly have the intention of us building an alliance?” his question threw the scientist off, is that not what she had said? almost everyone who knew shuri personally knew that she never backed down on her word, no matter how bad the person was. but, she supposed she could see his suspicions.
“yes, i told you, you had my word on that. wakanda would protect your oceans as long as you promised never to show up here again.”
“did you? or did you let me believe it?” he began hovering towards her, until his feet landed on the warm sand. shuri stood and began creating distance between them.
“what are you talking about?”
“you never truly wanted us to be allies, did you, queen?”
“stay away from me—“ shuri was known to be fearless her whole life, never being one to back down from a challenge or tell someone off, when most people would be peeing their pants or running the other way. but she can’t deny, for these past 3 years, she’s been feeling the opposite of fearless, like she’s just been waiting for the last thing to tip her over and have her bursting into tears.
“do you think i am an imbecile? that i know you seek vengeance of me killing your mother.”
“what? no—“
her reached her to where there were only a few centimeters between them.
“you cross me, and i warned you, i wipe wakanda off the face of the earth..”
shuri then felt some sharp come in contact with her abdomen, she finally took her fear-struck eyes off the aquatic ruler and down at the large, sharp spear. in the exact same spot he wounded her the last time they had battled.
“it won’t heal twice..” he spit, venom laced within his words.
she tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing but swift breaths of air would egress.
“please..” she let out breathlessly, though she got no response, no remorse. he let her collapse to the ground, eyeing her vengefully as she struggled to take in oxygen.
“do not worry, i’m granting you your wish. you should be thanking me..” was the last thing he heard from him before he yanked his weapon from her middle.
“ms.y/n, would you like me to request for assistance?”
you should’ve been there. you should’ve stayed with her, something in your gut told you something wasn’t right.
“are you sure she’s alright, i mean— she’s been out there for almost an hour an a half. i know y’all want me to give her her space to mourn but.. i just don’t know.. i think i should go check on her, just to be sure.” you paced around the dining room, after you, shuri, and everyone else had invited them to dinner. it was routine for your wife to sit outside and reminisce, so you didn’t bother her about it tonight.
“i hope you know that little panther is going to say something.” mbaku snorted as he picked up a final carrot from the display plate. you ignored his warning and went out to find her.
“shuri? baby, are you alright?” you called out to her and got no answer, until you reached closer and heard faint coughs, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you continued to tread carefully, “shuri?”
the sight you saw once you finally reached her was something you could never have prepared for.
“ms.y/n, i really think we should call for assistance!”
“oh god!” you screamed, quickly running up to her as she laid, choking on her own blood. you placed your hands over her wound, hoping to stop the blood the was gushing all over her clothes.
“shuri— please, you can’t do this right now!” you watched her as she only coughed, her chest rising up in down in quick haste as she tried her hardest to breathe.
tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to calm yourself, attempting to remain strong so your emotions wouldn’t make the situation worse, “you can fight it baby, come on! you’re gonna be okay!” you picked off two kimoyo beads from your bracelet and set them into her wound swiftly.
"these should heal it, you're gonna be okay, you hear me?" you placed one hand on the side of her face while keeping the other onto her wound.
shuri didn't know this would be how she would go. she had so much she wanted to say to you, but not enough time. all she could do was look at you and hope that you could hear her every thought. despite all her hardships and stress, the best part of her day would be coming home to see you. you soothed her somehow; in a way she couldn't explain. and how badly did she want you to know. seeing your distressed and horrified face only made her realize that she should've expressed all of this to you sooner.
she did make sure that the last thing, the last person, she looked at was you. she wanted your face to be the last thing she saw before she went, that way she could go peacefully.
she ignored your cries and your pleads, and pretended it was just you and her, sitting on this very beach, listening to the waves crash against the rocks and the sound of the few occasional elephants' trunks as they took their child through the water. she imagined you two sitting her and enjoying each other's company, rather than the reality of you holding the other as they clung on to life.
"shuri please, i'm right here!" you cried hysterically as you rested your head on your wife's chest, trying your best to soothe her.
soon you could no longer hear shuri's gasps, and her chest had stopped its quick motion. and that only frightened you more.
your head shot up immediately only to see shuri's lifeless eyes staring back at you. you didn't call out to her this time; you didn't shake her. you just looked.
you looked.
you held her frail body in your hands and looked.
"y/n!" instead of hearing the ai pester your once more, you heard the general, one who your wife loved dearly. she stood still as she watched the scene before her. the recently crowned queen, the last of the royal family, was now gone. and her wife sat over her, shocked in fear.
"my queen.." she hesitated, walking steadily towards you.
"no.." you whispered, voice almost hoarse, your eyes staying on your beloved, as if she would emerge back to life if you stared long enough.
"please.. just let me—"
"she's cold.."
"y/n.."
"get her a blanket, okoye, she's cold.." you cradled her into your chest, holding her tightly.
"y/n, please!"
"i don't want her to be by herself.." the only thing that was freaking the general out was how you were talking about the young scientist.. as if she were still here. as if she wasn't laying lifeless in your arms. throughout her entire journey of being part of the dora milage, this had got to be the most frightening thing she'd seen, just after the loss of queen romanda.
"s-shes okay, okay? i'm just staying with her.. i don't want her to be alone.. she doesn't need to be alone." you rambled as you rocked back and forth, still holding your wife, just like you used to when she would come to you crying, and you were the only one who could ever make her feel better.
okoye sighed, she didn't even bother to ask how this happened or why, it wasn't the time. she only joined you both on the ground and brought your face into the crook of her neck as you broke down in her arms.
"i'm right here, udade omncinci, i'm right here.." she only sat there and comforted you, letting a few tears trickle down her cheeks as well.
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star-girl69 · 1 year
Text
My Heart Never Knows
Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader
—-
a/n: i promise the good stuff happens next chapter 🙏 anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, mentions of mating, tell me if i missed anything!!
Chapter Ten- I Know You
—-
“Why are you sitting with me?”
You frown at Kisre’s words, sitting down next to her regardless.
“Where would you have me sit?”
“Next to Jake and Neytiri.” She says, and you glare at her unimpressed. She only laughs at you, turning to the meal in front of her. “I know you want too.”
“I don’t!” you exclaim, memories filling your mind of hands and lips… “I embarrassed myself in front of everyone, and now I can never look at them again, and it’s all because you got me drunk!”
“Low blow.” She looks at you up and down, before turning back to the crowd.
The hunting party had come back today, nets packed, and a great feast was being held. The children all ran around, the sand glowing under you, but it was much less informal than the festival. You had only managed to grab you plate before you saw a glimpse of Jake and Neytiri and had ran off as fast as you could.
“Besides,” Kisre starts, swallowing a bite of some fish. “You didn’t embarrass yourself. You forget I was there, Y/N- they were very clearly enjoying it.”
“I…”
“Things didn’t work out with Ayeoe, and I will be slapping him when I see him, but you want them. And they want you. What is holding you back?”
“My sister-”
“Ronal loves you,” is all Kisre has the chance to say, before Ayeoe walks over to the two of you.
You remember how humiliated you had felt last night, tears in your eyes as he screamed and yelled, called you such horrible things for not wanting to mate with him. In all truth, if he had not done that, and if you had gotten to know each other more, you would have mated with him.
Kisre says the Great Mother is looking out for you, and to be glad he showed his true colors now.
Last night, he was pure anger, a force, and when you look at him now- eyes down, hands behind his back, it is startling.
Kisre wastes no time in hissing at him- setting aside her food and getting to her knees.
“Please,” he says, holding out his hands as if he is surrendering. Kisre pauses, confused at his actions. You are as well, staring at him until he meets your eyes. “Can I please talk to you, Y/N?”
You want to say no, want to refuse him, but you know he will not stop asking. It is better to talk to him now, in front of all these people, where anyone can see you and help you, rather than if he finds you later.
You wipe the grimace off of your face, and nod to him.
He seems surprised, but quickly hides it, and holds out his hand to help you up.
“Y/N,” Kisre hisses, grabbing onto your arm. You see the worry in your eyes, and you grab her hand and squeeze it.
“We’ll be right over there,” you reason, and her eyes follow yours. A spot close enough to the feast, but far away enough that no one can hear what you’re saying. Besides, Kisre will come to you at the first sign of anything bad.
“Fine,” she spits, but let’s go of you anyways. You feel eyes on you as you lead him to the tree, and stop in front of it.
You turn to him, and he inhaled deeply, almost as if there is a speech to say, something he has been practicing. You resist the urge to cringe, cursing yourself for even going out with him in the first place.
“Y/N-”
“Is he bothering you?”
For a second, you think it is Ronal, come to save you as in her overprotective nature. But the voice that speaks is too low, too different, simply not hers.
When you turn, it is of course Jake Sully who is right behind you.
“J-Jake,” you stammer, but he is looking past you, to Ayeoe. Your eyes meet Neytiri’s next, and you can’t decipher the look on her face, too frazzled.
You turn back to Ayeoe, seeing Jake’s expression, balled up fists. You can’t look into his mind, don’t know what he was thinking.
(You had been ignoring the mark they left on you, on your heart, on your ribs. It made sense as to why Jake was trying to defend you- but not right now. Did he not understand?)
“I’m sorry, Ayeoe-”
“No, Y/N.” You flinch at Jake’s harsh tone, so different from how he normally sounds. He’s been so sweet to you, you forgot that his song was one of violence. You had been ignoring it, and you were paying the price now. But was it your fault that he made you not listen? He made you not listen. “Is this guy bothering you?”
“N-no,” you say, trying to look for Kisre, but Neytiri and Jake block your view.
“Yeah. Listen to her, huh, forest demon?”
“Ayeoe!” you shout, confused as to why the two are simply blowing everything out of proportion. “Don’t call him that.”
Finally, his gaze narrows down to you, and now he looks like himself. Pure anger in his eyes, like last night, directed at you. You see his hand move out of the corner of your eye- and, genuinely scared he might hurt you- you subconsciously backed up into Jake, back against his chest.
His skin was warm beneath yours, comforting, and he smells like the forest- with a hint of seawater.
“Seriously? You’re defending him?” Ayeoe stares at you, hands by his sides, until something crosses his features. Like a wave coming over him, his face changes to disbelief. “Demon-lover,” he sneers, pushing you to get past, and you barely have time to register Jake pushing you to the side, hands on your hips, reminding you so much of when you danced-
until his fist is cutting through the air like an arrow, meeting it’s mark on Ayeoe’s nose.
“Rude-ass bitch,” Jake sneers, standing over Ayeoe as he bends over, clutching his bleeding nose. You can see the blood drip to the floor, leaking through his fingers. Your stomach rolls at the sight of it.
Ayeoe suddenly roars, attracting the attention of the people around you, before running at Jake. They went down, a tumble of limbs and clashing blues, until Tonowari parts the crowd, staring in shock for a moment.
He meets your eyes, hand over your mouth, feet ready to run- a hand around your bicep, lips near your ear-
“Stop!” Tonowari hollers, but the two men are consumed in their pointless rage, until warriors suddenly emerge, pulling the two apart in a scramble, and it is as if you are returned to your body.
You register a sick feeling in your stomach, someone saying your name-
“N-Neytiri,” you choke out, and her hand falls. It is wrong that you miss it?
Jake spits, bloody, landing upon the dry dirt.
“What is this?” Tonowari yells, and Jake only shakes his head.
“He attacked me!” Ayeoe yells, pointing fingers and assigning blame like a child.
“Yeah?” Jake breathes, panting. “Should I tell him what you did to Y/N?”
“To- to Y/N?” Tonowari asks, eyes scanning over your unharmed body.
“He- he pushed me,” you choke out, and you see Tonowari’s fists clench.
Your mind is racing, and it is like you are a child, handed a rule book written in a different language. You feel lost, feel an aching under your ribs, and you know why.
Tonowari looks away after seeing you are unharmed, deadly gaze leveled at Ayeoe.
“Jake Sully,” he speaks, not taking his eyes off of Ayeoe, who quickly looks down in shame, “I thank you for protecting my sister. As for you, Ayeoe…” He trails off, shaking his head.
You can only stand in shock, paralyzed in utter disbelief.
Ayeoe shakes his head adamantly, arms held behind his back, scrambling for a drop of mercy. He can only be grateful Ronal and Kisre have disappeared.
“She’s a fucking-” but he cannot finish his insult, Jake instead hissing and tugging as his own restraints.
“Jake!” Tonowari yells, and he stops his thrashing, breathing heavily. “Go. Take a walk,” he advises, and the warriors holding him back release him. He nods, still staring at Ayeoe as he walks over to you and Neytiri- who has remained silent next to you the entire time.
“Come,” you hiss, suddenly feeling anger sweep through your veins. Tonowari calls after you, but you are already dragging the two of them into the forest, hands on their wrists.
You walk until you can no longer hear the clamor of the feast, of the fight, and you let go of their hands and turn around on them.
“What are you doing?” you ask, and Jake only shakes his head.
“No, no. You aren’t allowed to blame me for defending you.” His face turns to disgust, and it is like a puzzle piece sinks into place for you. “Did you see the way he talked about you? How he looked at you? What he fucking did to you?”
“It- it was not your place-”
Neytiri scoffs.
“What?” you ask, incredulous. They cannot act to have any claim over you- not unless they say it.
Her eyes meet yours. “You want to know someone. We know you. You know us. We See you. I See you.”
“You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?” Jake asks, and you cannot help but see the genuine confusion on his face.
“Even if- Ronal would never-”
“Ronal is not in front of me.” Jake interuotes, and he speaks the truth, and he is violence, and you have been denying yourself ever since the night you danced-
“We want you, Y/N.” And you hear Neytiri’s voice crack, break with the conviction she pours into it, and you know she speaks the truth, and you know she is violence, and still you have been denying yourself-
“Say it,” you whisper, because you are done denying, done listening to the doubts in your head. You want to start new and fresh, cleanse yourself of Ayeoe, forget about him, about anyone else other than the two of them.
“We want you.” Jake says it this time, and you step closer to them, like it is the most natural thing in the world. “We need you.”
“Do not deny what Eywa has gifted us, my Y/N.”
The nickname, the possession, makes your ribs ache and you finally know why, relief fills you and you are standing on unsteady feet, mind racing, floating away, and you need them to pull you back down, steady you, make you forget your own mind.
“I am not yours yet,” you say, because you need to hear them say it, need to feel them, need to mate them-
“Then let us make you ours.”
And you slam your lips onto Neytiri’s and sink into her, fall into her, and you become anew.
—-
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asterias-record-shop · 11 months
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new and improved bingo request! fantasy au between finnick and mermaid!reader please!! i feel like it would just make so much sense that finnick would love swimming so maybe he has a routine where he goes every morning and eventually has suspicions that something is in the water with him. so one day he’s sitting at the dock and the mermaid makes herself seen with some cheeky little comment about him almost being as good a swimmer as her!! their relationship blossoms as they learn more about each other’s worlds through daily meet ups and maybe one day they meet in mermaid’s cove during a full moon where she gets her legs and maybe she asks finnick for a lesson in something a bit more advanced (-; LOL but i was thinking quote #1 from mermaid “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad” and then maybe quote #14 from finnick (darling just gives me FINNICK). so sorry this was so long, i was in a daydream coming up w this. once again i appreciate your work so much! 🧚‍♀️
—𓆩[full moon cove]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Prince! Finnick Odair x Mermaid Princess! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.5K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick always loved the water. It was his only escape from the life of the Crown Prince who just took over the Kingdom of Panem after the death of the previous ruler, Snow. The cove he went to was different, though, and it always felt like someone was watching him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be true, much less from a beautiful woman like you.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - my prince Finnick dream is coming to life || foul language and cursing || inaccurate portrayal of princes- || totally little mermaid inspired kinda || accidental harm || stabbing || you have blue eyes for a little bit, like they flash || time skip || basically virginity loss || nipple stimulation || raw sex || unprotected sex || breeding kink || begging || praise ||
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From where Finnick was sitting, he knew damn well that someone was watching him. He could feel it, his skin crawling as he slowly spun around in a circle, trying to wait until one of the bigger fishes flew forward, kicking his feet to stay above the water.
He really did like this, being able to be in the water - his favorite place - even if he was sure someone was watching him. When he saw a certain shine though, one he was sure was scales, he threw down his trident and watched the crimson blood fill the water. Finnick was thankful that he was in the actual ocean and not the cove he dearly loved because he was sure that the blood would never come out of those pretty waters.
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He let out a whoop of happiness before something went around his ankle, gasping before he was pulled underwater, quickly closing his mouth before something wet landed on his lips, a choked noise making him gag all over again as water filled his mouth before he was able to spit it out. It makes him pause when he is able to inhale something like air, gasping as bright blue eyes meet his own before going back to a different color.
What the actual fuck?
He stared at your hands begin to move, more confused when you let out a noise somewhat like a groan, bubbles coming from your mouth before they slow, your eyes fluttering closed. Finnick gasped, hand flying to his mouth as he was still unable to comprehend the fact that he was fucking breathing on the water.
He stopped though when he stared at your face, watching as the crimson liquid that began to float into a messy cloud of red came from you - your tail.
For fucks sake.
He grabbed his trident before it could float too low, his other arm grabbing you as he slipped it into the waistband of his pants. It didn’t take him long to get you out of the water, easily laying you out on the sand. His eyes scanned your form, swallowing loudly as his hands ghost your figure, a hiss coming from your mouth making him gasp.
“Don’t be a pervert!”
“I-I’m not!”
He was so being a pervert.
Respectfully, how could he not? You were beautiful, your skin slowly dissipating into beautiful scales of purple and gold starting from your sides and your breasts were covered with a thin string beaded with shells and sea glass. Your hair formed wisps around your face like a halo, bright eyes with flecks of blue darting around until they met his face.
“Yes you are.”
“Y-You’re just…” he stuttered, unable to control his tongue as he inhaled deeply. “You’re a mermaid. Y-You’re beautiful.”
You don’t say anything as his eyes continue to scan your body, memorizing every curve of your body that he desperately wanted to hold. He had heard stories about the mermaids and their charms, but no, this was different. You were absolutely stunning in every way — your slightly-webbed fingers were adorned with gold and pearls, shells and gems threaded through strands of your hair, pearls braided into a crown — for fucks sake, he had never seen anyone as pretty as you.
When your wet hang swatted at his face though, a loud slap that didn’t hurt though the noise echoed all around the beach making his face stay to the side in shock. “Does your kind know that it’s rude to stare?” Your voice wasn’t like one he had ever heard, slightly accented and echoey, perfectly showing your mermaid enchantments.
“Y-Yes, but-”
You scoffed. “But what? You would be rude and stare after stabbing me?”
“You’re too beautiful not to stare.”
He watched your mouth zip closed, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Why do you like me?” He forgot he stabbed you until he saw the blood stained sand, gasping. “Fuck! What do I do, what do I do?!”
“Oh, calm down!” You say, giggling as he frantically started looking around. “Just… get me back to the water.”
“Fuck, do I clean it? Should I put like… seaweed on it?”
You pause, then nod. “Get that one, the purple one over there. Hurry.”
Finnick nodded quickly, rushing to stand and grab the seaweed before running back. He tore some off and started rubbing the blood away, then wrapped the rest around it and stood up. “Ready?”
“For what- oh my!” You yelled out in surprise when he picked you up easily, holding you tightly against his own body and walking toward the trees. “Wh-Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to the water.”
“I meant the sea-”
“As long as it’s water, right?” He sends you a wolfish grin, quickly finding the end of the trees and staring at the cove. He paused when he saw your eyes flash a pale cerulean, flickering from the cove to the sea as your webbed fingers shake against his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispers, nodding. “I promise.”
“Well, you already broke it,” you say as he slowly puts you into the water, watching a small cloud of crimson hover to the top before slowly dissipating. “My mother always told me stories about this cove.”
“One, it was an accident,” he says, slowly sitting in the water as you move your arms to push yourself to the center, giggling as you spin in the water. “Two, I thought you were a fish. Like, a real fish.”
“Well I was coming to give you a fish. A big one. A nice one that could feed you for days.”
He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. It was truly kind of you to say that, to think that, but he would probably give it to some kids he’d see on the way into the kingdom.
“What’s so funny?” You turn to stare at him, raising a brow.
“As much as I appreciate the thought, darling, I don’t need that fish as much as other people do.” He slowly stepped into the water, smiling as you narrowed your eyes slightly but didn't go to move.
“My name is not darling.”
“Oh? Well then what is it?” He kicked his feet to stay above the water, your tail moving slightly as you looked him up and down.
“It’s Y/N. Princess Y/N.”
He smiled, licking his lips to try and hide it. “Oh yeah? Well I’m Finnick.” He purposely leaves out the fact that he was a prince.
“That’s an odd name,” you say, but smile. “I like it.”
He smiled, slowly swimming closer before you moved away, pausing his movements as you licked your lips. “So, what’s so special about this cove, hm?”
“My mother has told me stories. There is a very dangerous underwater mountain range between the sea and this cove, but it has magical properties underneath the full moon. It is a place where people come to make sure that their bonds stick.”
Finnick paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What does that mean?”
You pause, shaking your head. “Humans do not need to know of our rituals. Besides, what are your rituals?”
Slowly, you swam around him, Finnick following your form. “My rituals?”
“Human rituals, I mean.” You correct, the seaglass threaded through your hair reflecting light onto your pretty face. “Like, for mating.”
“F-For mating?!” Damn were you forward.
“Well, I’ve heard that you people put rings on each other's hands? Why do you do that?” You tilted your head, humming. “Partners in my world marry when they turn into humans, then they proceed to mate to have children afterwards.”
“After what?”
“After their marriage ceremony!” You explain, smiling. “I am extremely excited to have my marriage ceremony.”
Finnick could feel his heart sink. “Y-You’re betrothed?”
“Not yet,” you respond, pausing. “I have not found the right suitor yet. And yourself? Are you betrothed?”
Finnick snorted. “Everyone wants me to be.”
You hummed softly, slowly swimming forward. “Why?”
“I am…” his voice turns into a whisper as you grab his hand, smiling. “What?”
“Yours are not like mine,” you respond, giggling. “I like them.”
“My hands?”
“Yes, I like them,” you giggled, gasping when a loud sound rung through out the forest, one you did not know was a bell. “Oh. Oh, what is that?!”
“It’s a bell,” Finnick sighed, looking down at where you held his wrist. “I need to go, but I will be back soon. I promise.”
“Where are you going?” You held his wrist tighter, trying to get him to stay as he adjusted his necklace, one given to him by Mags to protect him from mermaids like you. It didn’t work, and to be honest, he was glad it didn’t. “No! No, you need to stay, you brought me here, you need to stay with me!”
He could feel his mind blurring as he stood, eyesight fading in and out before you gasped.
“Oh my- I-I’m so sorry!”
It went away as soon as you said it, his eyes quickly meeting yours. “Was that- was that your magic?”
“Y-Yes, but I didn’t mean to! I didn’t, I’m so sorry-”
“It’s fine,” Finnick said, holding the necklace in his hand as he inhaled deeply. “It’s completely fine.”
It wasn’t completely fine, but the way you reacted let him know it truly was an accident. He watched as you slowly swam over, offering your hand out to him as he kneeled down and took it, pressing a soft kiss to your webbed fingers as you rubbed your nose against his.
Your skin was cold and wet, but he liked it when the scales against your wrist rubbed against his skin as you rubbed your face against his. He could feel his stomach twisting, his heart beating faster as soft coos and trills came from your mouth. “Please Finnick… please do not leave me.”
“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be right back, I swear on it.”
You inhale deeply, nodding as you let go of his hand. “Please don’t be long.”
“I won’t.” And with that, Finnick ran off, determined to have a one sided verbal conversation with Mags on why the fuck he was already head over heels for a mermaid he’d only met once — even if he had to do something first.
“I present Prince Finnick of Panem,” Everyone bowed as soon as the doors opened, Finnick inhaling deeply as Peeta smiled back at him, Caesar grinning from the door. “To his coronation.”
He stared up at Mags who stood on the platform where kings before him had gotten married and where he was supposed to too, but what if he wanted to get married in the sea? To you? 
He had just met you and he was already planning your wedding, a smile on his face as he walked down the aisle. Would you be able to walk down the aisle? You said that you could shift, right? He had heard stories that mermaids could change-
“Finnick!”
He paused, gasping when he saw Mags’ short stature standing right in front of him, literally a centimeter away from him. She makes a face, lips firmly pressed together as she tilted her head up at him, obviously aware he was distracted.
He grinned sheepishly as he slowly stepped back, inhaling deeply as the music started to play, Mags taking her crown from her head and setting it onto a pillow offered by another person. Finnick swallowed as the music stopped, signaling the end of Mags’ temporary reign, and another crown quickly being brought out.
It was a new one, as Finnick never wanted to wear the crown Snow did, so he ordered the making of a new one. He smiled when he saw the pearls and diamonds, both of them reminding him of what was in your hair early on. He was already thinking of the crown he would have made for you, pearls and sea glass with diamonds to match his own.
You would look beautiful sitting next to him on a throne, or in his lap. He liked the lap scene better, though.
Mags slapped his forehead making him gasp, the older woman raising a brow down at him as he gave another sheepish smile. When the music started again, Finnick slowly kneeled down, inhaling deeply.
This was it — he would be king in a matter of seconds, and right when the crown was set on his head, everyone cheered.
The new King of Panem was finally crowned, and he was soon to be betrothed too, but to someone no one would expect.
It had been a few months since Finnick brought you to the cove, but you always disappeared one night a month. It made him upset, the fact he wasn’t able to see you.
“Are you going to be here tonight?” Finnick whispered as he brushed his fingers down your bicep, your tail now healed and still in the water as your torso laid in his lap.
“Most likely not,” you whisper, Finnick wincing.
“Why not? The cove is beautiful under a full moon.” He says making you giggle.
“I’m aware. Our kind comes here for-” you pause, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”
“No, you have to say it now.” Finnick sits up, looking down at you as you shrug slightly. “Y/N.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Y/N.”
“My mother used to say that all of the greatest rulers came here to secure their bond before marriage,” you whisper, your scaled hand pushing into his as your fingers thread through his own. “I hope to do the same.”
Finnick smiled down at you, finally leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. It made you gasp, your lips soft and warm as your hands pushed to the back of his head. Your lips were so addicting, slightly salty but soft and perfect against his own, his hand pushing to hold your hand.
He pulled away slightly, humming against your lips as you leaned up, pulling his lips right back onto your own. It was your first time kissing anyone, and Finnick’s lips were so warm and soft and perfect against your own, desperately pulling him down as he moved to kneel over your body.
You could feel his fingers slowly travel down your sides, trailing from your skin to your scales as his teeth graze your lips, mouth moving passionately and quickly in desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him lower. You squirm underneath him, desperately trying to pull him closer as Finnick pulls away slightly, groaning as he tries to stay away from your lips.
His softly brush against yours as you run your fingers through his hair, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. “I know humans are not like us. You started a mating ritual, this is your last chance to leave before it continues.”
“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers back, his hands shakily going over your tail. “I just don’t know how to continue.”
You giggled making him laugh, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours. “You have to wait until the moon comes up,” you whisper, pushing his hair back delicately. “I’m not able to change at will until we mate.”
“That long?” He groaned, his eyes trailing down your body and catching at your pretty nipples. “I guess that means I have to entertain myself some other way.”
“Wait,” you say, quickly cupping his face. “You need to come with me.”
He paused, staring at you in confusion. “Where?”
“To where the moonlight will find us the best.” You smiled, quickly grabbing his hand as you pulled him into the water.
He had heard stories about people being dragged to their death by your kind, but that wasn’t going to be him. He trusted you so much, holding his breath as you dragged him down lower and lower, the sunlight no longer able to be seen in the water. He could feel his vision blur until he’s pulled out of the water, gasping loudly as you giggled.
“Look! Look, isn’t it pretty? There is no sand here, that way it will not be uncomfortable when I shift into my human form.” You giggled, looking around as Finnick panted. “Oh, did I not give you enough time to take a breath?”
Finnick laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine, darling. I-Is that a bed?”
You paused, looking over where he did, a makeshift bed of furs and nets making you smile. “Oh, yes! It’s customary to make a bed for the next pair and leave a special treat for them. Of course, it has to be something that can’t go bad, but when you and your mate finish, you burn the blankets that you used and use the ash in your wedding ceremony.”
Finnick swam over to you, lifting you up into his arms making you let out a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Where does your kind get fur? You know, if you live underwater, it would spoil.”
You hummed as he laid you onto the soft furs that matched the ones brought only to the castle, customary for the kings because of how expensive it is. “I’m not sure. We do not use furs under the sea, just up here. How they acquired it is unknown to me.”
He merely hummed, his attention now on you as he softly pressed kisses to your collarbone. Your scales were cold and beautiful, sliding along his fingers beautifully as his tongue rubbed over the expanse of your collar bone, one of his hands sliding up your torso as you inhaled sharply.
You could feel your eyes roll back, his warm tongue sliding along your skin as the tips of his fingers trail along your skin that hadn’t yet become scales just yet, pulling the strands of thinly braided seaweed threaded with pearls and sea glass off of your body. He smiled when he saw the scales spotting along your breasts and your ribs that were hidden by the seaweed somehow, leaning down to let his lips hover over your scales, a sharp inhale leaving your mouth as your stomach twists.
Your scales were more sensitive than your skin, and his fingers were pinching against your nipple, thumb and middle rolling the sensitive bud. The feeling was foreign to you, a whine leaving your lips as his tongue trailed along your skin from the patch of scales to your nipple. A whine leaves your mouth, you hadn’t even shifted yet and you could already feel yourself getting aroused, his warm fingers and mouth kissing and sucking against your tits.
It was too much, your stomach clenching as your hands pushed into his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to pull him away with how sensitive he was making your body, licking and sucking and biting which made you whimper. Finnick was easily keeping himself entertained, waiting until the change would happen by distracting himself with marking up your body.
“For fucks sake, darling, I want to fuck you so bad.”
His words made you whimper, groaning loudly as you buck your hips into the air, pausing. You had hips.
“F-Finnick!” You gasped, staring down as he groaned. “Finnick, look!”
He laughed, shaking his head as his tongue lapped against your nipple, the perky bud making him grin as the tip of his tongue circled around it. “You’re not gonna get me away from these pretty tits, baby.”
“Finnick,” you giggle, pushing your foot against his thigh, your leg shaking. “Look.”
He paused, pulling away and staring down at your beautiful legs. His hands softly squeezed at your plush thighs, smiling as he kissed softly against your skin and pulling your legs above his shoulders. Your eyes widened, gasping. “W-Wait, Finnick!”
“I’ve waited months, darling. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” He stared at your cunt, your pretty pussy already soaked as his fingers slid up and down, gathering your wetness before teasing your entrance. “Please.”
You gasped, warm fingers pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, shaking your head. “I-I’ve never done this before, Finnick.”
He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “It’s okay, darling, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”
You inhale, slowly pulling him closer with a bend of your knees. “Okay. Pl-Please, please…” you whisper, humming as his tongue flattened against your slit. “Please fuck me.”
You use his words, gasping as you feel something foreign inside of you, eyes rolling back as you inhaled deeply. You blink a few times to collect yourself, staring down at his fingers that slowly pushed inside of you, two of them. You gasped, staring at them as they disappeared inside of you, pulling in and out as his tongue dragged along your clit. He groaned loudly, insatiable groans of pleasure falling from both of your lips.
He was desperately sucking and licking at your cunt, around your entrance against your clit, he was absolutely infatuated with your taste. It was making him feral, groaning into your cunt and sending vibrations up your spine as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into you, curling as he rutted against the blankets. Oh he had to be inside of you, but you had to cum first before he fucked you.
His fingertips graze that spot inside of you, pushing and rubbing right against that perfect spot as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling against the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you right over that perfect edge. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening as you bucked your hips unconsciously, your thighs shaking around his head as you still didn’t have enough control of your legs.
Finnick groaned, pulling out his fingers and curling them, dragging out every drop of your cum and scissoring his digits inside of you to make your walls clamp down on them, laughing as he licked up the pearlescent essence sliding out of your cunt. It makes him smile as he pulls your fingers out of your cunt, watching it flutter and clench around nothing before sitting back against his heels.
He pulled down his wet trousers and underwear, smiling as he dragged his cupped hand against your cunt, gathering your wetness mixed with his own saliva and slathering it onto his shaft before lining his head up with your entrance, biting his lips as your hands quickly flew to his shoulders. Your head was tilted back, mouth wide in pleasure as you groaned out, your fingers no longer webbed and the scales on your body now gone.
He leaned down with a sharp thrust, easily becoming balls deep inside of you as your walls tightened and fluttered around his shaft, a loud groan falling from both of your lips. “You just came again.”
“I-I’m still sensitive,” you whisper meekly, eyes wide as you stare down at where his cock disappeared inside of you, “Y-You feel so good, please don’t stay still. Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you to cum inside.”
He lost control with that one sentence, pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. It was rough and made sparks of both pleasure and pain spark up your spine, eyes rolling back at the unfamiliar but pleasure filled thrusting of his hips. He groaned loudly, his stomach already twisting as he choked against your shoulder – he was only a few thrusts in, desperately trying to chase the high he was right on the edge of, already drunk on your cunt.
“F-Fuck, fuck Y/N darling. You feel so good, so fucking good!” He groaned against your shoulder, mouth already attaching to the previously made hickies, letting out a loud moan as he slammed his hips forward, hips pausing when he finally came.
He didn’t stop though, his mind solely focused on fucking you now, watching your face slowly became fucked out, eyes hazy as you stared up at him. Your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, your stomach full of cum as he continued to thrust, barely an hour with legs and already lost feeling of them.
You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, hips bucking into his own in desperation as he panted above you, pausing nearly for a minute. It was still too long for him to be still inside of you, wiping the sweat from his brow as you whined. He grinned down at you, moving back to pull his cock out of you before slowly pushing back in. “Darling, you’re so desperate. How many times have I cum inside of you? And you still want more?”
“Wh-Why can’t I want more? You make me feel so good, and you like to fuck me, don’t you? So don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You basically wailed, gasping as he grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly off the bed to fuck into you again, head tilting back as you stared up at his face.
You could feel him twitch inside of you, slamming in and out of you as he fucking you like his own personal whore, which at this point, you basically were. You felt so full, eyes rolling back as sweat dripped down his forehead, mouth wide open with a loud groan. “Fuck darling, I don’t want to stop.”
His words make you laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a firm kiss. “Well, I’m free to change at will now,” you whisper, stroking his golden hair. “You don’t have to stop.”
He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, my darling mermaid.”
“And I love you, my darling human.”
“Just human? Am I just a human to you?” He says playfully, watching you giggle.
“Just shut up and fuck me, Finnick.”
“Whatever you say, my darling mermaid.”
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© asterias-record-shop
173 notes · View notes
Text
Unsolicited 32
Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.
Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜
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There’s a drumming, loud and painful, right at the top of your forehead. Your body is buried in sand and your stomach is rotten with acid. You move a single finger, the effort enough to make you groan.
Another weight rests across your back, just above the crumpled fabric over your ass. You drag your arm up and turn yourself stiffly. You whimper as the light from the tall windows glares in your eyes. You cover your face as you blink away tears.
Slowly, you roll onto your back. Lloyd’s ass is shamelessly bare to the room, his arm still across your torso. He grumbles and moves his hand over the rise of your chest. You swat him away and sit up, a bit too quickly as you grab your splintering skull.
You turn your legs over the edge as you put your back to him and lean over your lap. God, you feel like hell. You remember only the taste of tequila and the juvenile game.
A sudden clutching knots in your stomach and you hold back a retch. You gulp and hold your middle as you push yourself forward, hitting your knees on the floor as your body wracks painfully. You crawl around the bed as you try not to hurl.
Another sour tide threatens to spill and you keep your fingertips on the floor as you plant your feet under you. You race unsteadily, hitting the doorway before you can clatter through and hug the toilet. You vomit, gagging loudly as you spit up the remnants of the forgotten night.
Shit, what the fuck happened?
Your muscles contract as you spill into the porcelain, reaching weakly to flush as you keep yourself against its comforting coolness. You cross your arm over the seat and rest your head against it. You shake as you fight to catch your breath, another storm brewing hotly.
You close your eyes. Never have I ever…
You furrow your brow. You hear him moving around as you try to remember. More tequila, you recall it flooding down your cheeks, his face between your legs. That’s not entirely a surprise.
Then–
You clutch the tank with one hand as you bring up another splash of puke. You mumble and whimper, folding both arms behind your head as you tremble.
No, you definitely didn’t go that far. It’s been years since you got that bad. You definitely remember anger, but it could easily be his.
“So,” his shadow looms over you, “what exactly went down on Brennan Avenue?”
You groan and refuse to lift your head, “no…”
“I really didn’t expect that side of you,” he snickers.
You brace the seat and push yourself up, flushing as you flip the lid. You move to the sink and shake your head. Regrettably as it makes your temples throb. You turn the faucet on and rinse out your mouth.
“It’s nothing–”
You look over at him and stop dead, hands dripping as the water runs. His neck is bruised, he has a bite mark on his shoulder, and his chest is clawed to shit. Not to mention the purple and blue splotches down his torso and thighs.
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah, you did quite the number,” he looks down at his body, “but I’ve been through worse.”
You stare at him. Waiting for it. You turn and finish washing up as you try to collect yourself. You nod and face him again.
“Do I apologise or–”
“Baby, I’ll give you a pass on this one,” he smirks, “the way you worked that ass, you deserve it.”
You cross your arm and purse your lips. You have a bad feeling but that could be the hangover. You exhale and it leaves you lightheaded. You back up and sit daintily on the edge of the square tub.
“I think maybe you should chill and I’ll order something to eat. Soak up that half gallon you tossed back.”
“You mean that you forced down my throat.”
“Potato, Po-ta-to,” he shrugs.
You frown and rub your cheeks, “why would you do that?”
“Well, you think I wouldn’t–”
“No, why would you… get food–”
“Babe, I told you, I have a whole weekend planned out and I need you in walking condition,” he says as he comes closer. You wince and shy away as he bends past you and twists on the tap, “a bath will help too.”
You watch him wearily as he squeezes your shoulder and stands. He smirks down at you as he frames his hips, a twitch just below eye level. You could rip that damn thing off him.
“I can be nice,” he intones, “believe it or not.”
💎
The summer dress is unexpectedly modest. Red cherries on white, a dainty frill at the hem. Well, compared to Lloyd's usual taste. Another surprise. Just like his behaviour.
The peace of the morning has you on edge, piqued further by your lingering hangover. A meal that doesn't churn in your stomach and a calm that you know can't last. Not with him.
Lloyd wears a polo, yellow with a tacky green palm fronds pattern, white slacks, and loafers with no socks. Nothing unlike his characteristic aesthetic. Overpriced and douchey. The only thing missing is his signature mustache, still but a sprouting along his upper lip.
Outside the hotel, a car awaits you. You're still uncertain, you don't think you'll ever be anything but with this man. He sits beside you, poking a bruise on his neck as he grins. You try to ignore the sadistic joy in his face.
You watch the bright sky, finally a chance to take in the Caribbean atmosphere. You'd never been anywhere tropical, never close to able to afford it. You scraped by, like always, and enjoyed the little things like a movie or concert. Nothing terribly extravagant.
You stop at a marina, peering out over crystal blue water, glistening beneath the sunlight. Lloyd gets out first and you follow, not sure what else to do. He waits, offering his hand only to be met with a very confounded grimace.
"Come on, honey," he takes your hand, "don't be a brat."
You let him lead you along, looking nervously into the crystalline depths as you come down the pier. You've never been on a boat. You don't say as much, just another thing for him to laugh at.
A plank is set for boarding to a small boat, not quite a yacht, something more personal by your measure. What do you know?
Lloyd puts you ahead of him and follows as you walk carefully up the ramp. You put your arms out as if you might tip and he hovers his hands around your hips. You push him away and stomp the last few steps, dropping ungainly onto the deck.
"So, sweetheart," he hops down after you, "what do you think?"
"Uh, it's a boat," you turn slowly, already a bit off kilter by the slightly swaying floor, "great for hangovers I hear."
"Don't fret, babe, I'll be on top tonight… or in a couple minutes," he winks.
You look away, resisting the urge to sneer at him. No wonder you lost it last night. You've never known anyone so intrinsically unbearable.
He turns and pulls back the board, folding it down and covering it with a hatch door. You cross to the cabin and brace yourself against the wall as he unmoors the boat. A peek at the water sets you on edge. Wait…
"Um, where are we going?"
"Just sailing," he claps his hands and shakes off errant dirt, "you and I and the sea. Romantic, huh?"
Ominous, you think but know better than to give that thought breath.
"Nice boat."
"All mine," he gloats, "just like everything else." He nears and hooks an arm around you, jolting you against him as he gropes your ass, "including you, Mrs. Hansen."
You swallow and your cheek twitches, "mmhm, well if she don't sit down, Mrs. Hansen is gonna hurl."
His brows arch and he taps your ass, "Mrs. Hansen wishes, Mr. Hansen makes it come true."
He keeps his arm around you and turns, guiding you into the cabin, a striped sofa and canvas chairs set across from the steering wheel. He guides you to sit and fluffs a pillow.
"Get some rest, honey, you're gonna need it," he teases, "maybe some hair of the dog will help."
"No, no drinking," you retort as you collapse back against the cushions, "I'm on the wagon."
"No fun," he chides, "but I can think up something for that."
You slump and look out the window as he goes to the wheel. He turns the engine and you play with a fold in the dress. He slowly pulls away from the dock and you watch the horizon. If you die out here, at least you'll have a pretty view.
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writingkeepsmewhole · 4 months
Text
Looks Clear
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This is part 8 of Snow In The Dark. I hope you like it :)
Fic Summary: Snow has never known who she was. Being raised in the streets made her strong but lonely. That changed when she met Jack them becoming as close as sisters. She thought she found her family. That all changes when she crashes on a planet with only one rule. Stay in the light.
Part Summary: Snow along with the others decied the best way to make it off the planet alive.
Riddick x OC Snow
Warnings: Language.
Let me know if you want to be tagged :P : @here4thespice @amarokofficial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @pinkcrystal44 @goblingirlsarah @shelbyteller @classyunknownlover
Part 1 Part 7
Knowing that light hurts the beasts trying to hurt us, everyone quickly takes inventory of everything that makes light.
Despite how bad it looked or not caring how it looked I stuck close to Riddick. He kept me alive more than once today.
Plus I felt calmer around him. More myself. More in control. Something about being next to a man you knew could handle anything that got thrown at him.
So I stood next to him as I stood around the burning cutting torch trying to figure out a plan.
“So we got one cutting torch, we got two hand lights. There’s gotta be something we can rip out of the crash ship.”
“Spirts.” Paris says leaning forward to fan himself.
I was humid and stuffy in this room but it was better than being eaten alive.
“Anything over 45 proof burns rather well.”
“Mmm molotovs my favorite.” I say earning a snort from Jack.
I wink at her and smile. 
“Look, it's better than nothing.” Johns says, glaring at me.
“It was a joke.” I say, lifting my hands up.
I don’t even react as I feel the warm body heat behind me. Johns eyes bouncing to the figure behind me told me who it was.
I don’t know what I did to have the killer of the group be my bodyguard but I would take it. 
“How many bottles you got?” Carolyn asks, getting us in order once again.
“I don’t know, maybe ten.”
“Okay.” She says, nodding and looking over at Johns.
“Johns you got some flares.”
“So, maybe we got enough light.” She says, nodding.
“Enough for fucking what?” Johns asks.
“How thick are you? Do you wanna tell him or should I?” I ask, looking at Johns then Carolyn.
She holds her hand up as to tell me to shut up or she has this.
“We stick to the plan. We get the four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.” 
“Look I hate to ruin a beautiful theory with an ugly fact.” Paris says standing up.
“But that sand cat is solar. It won't run at night.” He says walking over to Carolyn.
“So we carry the cells. We drag them whatever it takes.”
“You mean tonight with all those things out there?” Jack asks, holding onto her legs rocking back and forth. She was scared but doing a great job of holding it in.
I move to sit next to her wrapping my arms around her.
“It’s better to go now then wait them out. We don’t know how long the eclipse is going to last.” I say gently rubbing her back.
“Alright, how long can this thing last?” Johns asks, making me bite my tongue from starting something with him. That wouldn’t help us survive.
“A few hours? A day tops?” He says, very matter of fact.
I clench my jaw ready to shut up but decide against it.
“Didn’t we have this conversation a few hours ago? These people wouldn’t have left everything they own or the ship for that matter if they only had to deal with these things for a few hours or a day tops.” I say spitting the last word.
“I had the impression from the model the two planets were moving as one and there would be a lasting darkness.” Imam says looking at Johns.
“Thank you.” I say, holding my hand out towards Imam.
“Maybe you can only understand men.” I say earning a glare but he doesn't respond to me.
“Mmm.. These suns gotta come up sometime. And if these creatures are phonic about light then we just sit tight and we let the sun come up.” He says, meeting my gaze, the look on his face like he figured it out.
“Okay, where is the water we are going to drink? Or food or oh yeah we’ll probably freeze because deserts get cold at night time and a few days without sun will most likely kill us. If the lack of water and food doesn't. That’s if I put up with you that long.” I say, clenching my jaw.
“Why you little-.” Johns says starting to stand up. 
“Okay enough.” Carolyn says stepping in the middle of the room blocking our line of sight from each other.
“I’m sure somebody else said the same thing, locked inside that coring room.” 
“We need to think about everybody now. Especially the kid.” He says pointing at all of us.
“How scared is this poor boy gonna be out there in the dark.”
“Oh don’t you bring him into this.” I say, clenching my jaw and standing up. 
 “Yeah, don't use him like that.” Carolyn says.
“Like what?” Johns asks, looking disgusted.
“As a smoke screen.” Carolyn says at the same time I speak.
“As a shield.” 
“You deal with your own fear.”
“Yeah it’s okay to be scared Johns.”
“Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth for two seconds and let me come up with a plan that dosn’t involve mass suicide.”
“You came up with one. It's sitting here waiting for the lights to go out so those things can eat us.” I say, the sounds of the creatures outside whaling making me take a breath.
Them clearly hearing us.
Breathing the breath out slowly I move to sit back next to Jack, wrapping my arm around her.
“I’m waiting.” Carolyn says, making me smirk.
I may have to change my mind about her after all.
“How much you weigh Johns?”
“What’s it matter Carolyn?” 
“How much?” She snaps back.
“Around seventy nine kilos.”
“Because you’re seventy nine kilos of gutless white meat.”
“And that’s why you can’t think of a better plan and you want to use Jack as an excuse.” I say joining in.
“Is that fucking right?” He says jumping up, snatching his gun out as he does. 
I don’t flinch.
I watch Riddick stand up stepping in front of him, blocking him from getting to any of us.
“Where are you going?” Johns asks, pressing the barrel of the gun into RIddick’s chin.
I have to stop myself from standing up. The anger I have towards Johns is starting to get to its boiling point. I wanted to hurt him but that would help any of us get out of this.
“This solves nothing.” Imam says, as if he was reading my thoughts.
I watch Riddick smirk, him lifting his goggles and looking over at Johns as the sound of tapping fills the air.
My eyes dropped to the sound seeing a homemade blade right on John’s crotch.
“Okay.” Johns says taking a step and sitting back down.
I couldn’t tell if he was smirking or giving him a fake smile. The look on Johns face creeping me out either way.
My head snaps to the right when Carolyn moves to crouch next to me and Jack.
“They’re afraid of our light. That means we don’t have to be so afraid of them.” She says calmly. Her eyes lifted up to meet mine.
I smile at her then down at Jack.
“You know I will make sure you are safe.” I say, rubbing her back. Jack nods, looking nervous but less scared.
“And you are sure you can get us there? Even in the dark?” Iman asks, looking over at us.
“No I can’t.” She says standing up.
“But he can.” She says looking over at Riddick.
I look up at him, his goggles still off him turning to look over his shoulder at her, the light hitting his face just right to show the silver shine in his eyes.
“That’s the smartest thing you said all day.” I say looking up at her.
She nods and bends down picking up the torch.
“Come on, I have an idea.”
Carolyn leads us back to the entrance of the ship. She uses the torch to shine under the ship in case there are any creatures hiding.
Sticking close together everyone starts to head out following her.
I’m stopped when a large hand grabs my wrist. Looking up over my shoulder I meet the face of Riddick.
Us being swallowed by darkness as the others leave out ahead of us.
“You know not everyone is gonna make it out of here.” He says, his low rubbing voice settling around me. It almost reminds me of the way a cat purrs. Something animal about it.
“Then let's make sure you, me, and Jack are on the list of the ones that do.”
“Is that all you care about?” He asks, sounding like a loaded question which I was trying not to read into.
“Honestly? Yes.”
He smirks, letting go of my wrist and heading towards the door. I stay close to him. The group of us stayed quiet as we walked outside up to the other side of the crashed ship.
“Riddick.” Carolyn whispers it is too risky for us to keep moving forward.
Riddick slides past me, his hand brushing my lower back as he does. I’m shocked by the shiver it shoots up my spine.
He walks to the front of the group, slipping his goggles up to look inside.
“Looks clear.” He calls back.
Johns pushes past me practically shoving me over as he sneaks up next to Riddick, gun in hand. Him having a light on the end of it.
I have to bite my lip to keep from snatching it out of his hand and beating him with it. Thoughts of stabbing him in his sleep enter my mind.
As soon as Johns light shines into the ship a monster comes jumping out towards them screeching.
Riddick drops to the ground, out of the way while Johns jumps to the right landing on his back.
The creature flies over our head away from the light. All of us ducking down. Jack’s grip on my hand tightening.
“You said"clear "." Johns says looking up at Riddick him slightly down a slope.
“I said it looks clear.” Riddick says back, making me smile at the sass.
“Well what’s it look like now?” He asks.
Riddick raises his head taking a quick glance before turning to look back shrugging.
“Looks clear.” He says, making me snort a giggle.
Everyone turned to look at me in a shocked horror.
“I’m sorry that wasn’t meant to be funny, I know.” I say, as Riddick and Johns get up.
Johns casually walked into the ship, everyone following behind. Jack rushed ahead to stay close to Carolyn’s light.
Riddick doesn't move until I reach his side.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I think the exhaustion is finally catching up to me.” I say, feeling heat rise up my cheeks.
Riddick doesn't answer him, lifting a hand to grab my chin. I don’t speak as he moves my head to the left and the right, most likely looking at the bruises there.
Taking a shaky breath I let it out as his touch fell from my face, my skin almost burning from where he touched it.
“I thought I smelt blood.” He says, I almost feel like more to himself than me. But he didn’t seem like the type to talk to himself.
“Is my lip bleeding?” I question reaching up to touch my lip.
“Must have been something else.” He says, turning towards the ship, the clicking sound of the creatures starting to grow louder.
“We need to leave.” He says.
I nod following him into the ship.
47 notes · View notes
thebunnednun · 4 months
Text
Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting (Part 1)
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Authors Note:
Hello everyone!! This is my first time writing so please tell me what you think! I'm sure we've all seen the live-action one-piece. And I've taken a strong liking to a certain clown. Please enjoy as I spin this tale. There's a good deal of flirting, banter, and much more. Definitely going to be a slow-burn fic. If anyone is a little out of character I do apologize. Btw, this is not set in a specific arc but the straw hat crew is included as follows: #MonekeyD.LUffy #RoronaZoro #Nami #Usopp #Sanji #TonyTonyChopper #NicoRobin #Brook #Sanji
Anyway, on with the show!!~
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Context:
"FUCK!"
Screams and cursing erupted everywhere. As far as safety was concerned, there was none. Who knew that going into the forbidden tundra of ice and snow for ice cream would be such a bad idea?
It didn't matter now anyway. The wind whipped at your cheeks as a pair of familiar gummy arms stretched around the crew. There was no ability to see five feet in front of you. After much pushing and shoving the steering wheel was turned and the Thousand Sunny began to fight back.
Finally, with mercy, the storm had to spit you and your crewmates out. Where? No clue. None. The feeling of sand and splintered wood accompanied you all before the darkness followed.
---------------------------------------------------- Current time-----------
"Y/n?!" a voice called out. Opening your eyes hurts like hell. The sun was too bright. And the sand was too cold. Wait... sand?!
Rolling over onto your back the sun's sharp rays began to bore their way into you. Suddenly, a fluff clown covers you. "Y/N!! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Luffy, the sweet goof that he is, crushes you in a tight hug cutting off your oxygen
"Alright, give the girl some space," Nami pulls at the arm closest to her. "What the fuck, happened?" You sit up slowly. "Well-" "THE FUCKING SHIP BROKE!" Heads turn towards a sobbing Usopp trying to rub two pieces of wood together as Sanji comfortingly pats his shoulder. Not too far away, Zoro stands quietly looking over the horizon. A sigh escapes your lips as you deflate into Nami's arms. This could not get any worse. Until a thought hits you.
"Wait, where are the others?" you begin to sit up and look at Nami again. "Robin and Chopper are trying to salvage what they can. Brook got buried under the sand for a while so he's resting." You nod and try to take it all in. So far everyone was alive and counted on. But where were you? Climbing out of Nami and Luffy's company you decided to have a look around. Items were thrown about the beach everywhere including large piles of ice and snow making for a strange scene.  
There’s a moment of uncomfortability that you register but don’t address. Silence never bothered you, but one thing was for certain. You and your family were stranded, highly wanted criminals, with no proper way of fixing the ship unless there wasn’t that much damage. Your feet stop as you come across the sight before you. “Shit.” 
Half the fucking ship was missing. Well, to be exact the giant ram's head was half buried in the snow. The middle of the left-hand side of the haul was cracked open with continents spilling out. As you got closer you could see Robin and Chopper creating piles of things salvageable. A little bit past them lay Brooks looking more lifeless than you’d ever seen him. 
Robin’s eyes caught yours and she waved you over. Watching out for glass and wood you made your way to the haul and placed a hand on the still damp wood. How could everything have changed so quickly? One moment you were all enjoying a frozen treat. The next, holding on for dear life as the elements took their wrath out on you for trespassing. Seeming to read your mind Chopper tugged Robin's leg. 
 “No need to worry,” Robin said as she pressed a compass into the empty palm of your hand. “I think I know what island we’re on. It’s very secluded on this side so we should be fine. However, the other half holds a very populated town known for carpentry. We just might be saved.” Well, that was the first good news all morning. Zoro had been voted to go with you and pick up some supplies. Also so that he didn’t get lost and have the crew spend 14 years to find him. But the walk was pleasant and you took turns humming different toons until you got to the outskirts of town. 
The sound of laughter could be heard as some decorations and flags waved in the air. Seemed like a festival was taking place. Perfect! With all the chaos no one could possibly recognize you both. Zoro managed to find materials needed for the ship while you gathered more basic supplies. However, something about the crowd drew you in. Zoro would be busy for a while so might as well look around,... right? 
The middle of the market square was filled with bright colors, noises, and various performers. You made sure to stick to the walls of the town. However, the cheers and yells for more soon had you stepping closer until you found yourself in the middle circle of a performance act. A slightly chubby man who resembled a sheep was fighting with a pink lion and a green-haired man.
While the act was obviously for kids. You couldn’t help but smile as the three began to fight until a man with blue glasses and a strange ponytail ushered them to stop. He whispered something to them and the expressions of fear were almost completely masked. Then as if the fun had been sucked away, they began to bow and pass out folders. You reached forward to receive one from the lion, thanked him, and began to retreat to where you had last seen Zoro. “Well?”
You held out the flier, “We could kill some time tonight?”
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Author's note: This was Chapter 1! Sorry if it's a bit short. Don't worry though. I have more planned. Please share and like my post so I know to continue with this. Also, just as a nice little tidbit.
I am downbad for this clown.
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Part 2
Like they didn't have to make the live action cast so hot. (Yes, yes the fuck they did.) Now, I found him funny in the anime. But, live action? DAMNNNNNN!!!! I think his eyes are so fucking pretty. His jaw and neck look like they need some special attention. Cheekbones? Biteable. Like I DEMAND to see more of this man. Oh, btw, reader gets very flirty and sassy as the story goes on.
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tiredatiny · 2 years
Text
—Deep Sea
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Pairing: Lee Felix x male reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, pirate au
Warnings: cursing, treating reader as an object, that’s it I guess??
Part 1 of 3
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“Captain!! Oy captain, I think we caught one of ‘em mermaids!” A yell could be heard from the deck.
Soon there was a huge swarm of excited pirates, all of them wanting to see the “mermaid” that was being pulled out of the dark sea. But instead of a beautiful sea creature, they saw an angry man with a fish’s tail trying to cut the net that was keeping him hostage.
“Han are you blind or something??”
“You dumbass that’s a merman!”
The ship’s crew became dead silent when their captain stepped out of his helm. “For fucks sake what are you all yelling abou-“ he started scolding but stopped when seeing the merman. His eyes light up greedily, already thinking about the price he and his crew could get if they sold the creature. “Who’s the man that captured it?” Han quickly straightened his back and with a cocky smile he yelled “It was me Captain Chan! I, Han Jisung successfully captured this-“
“Oh don’t be so full of yourself. You obviously caught it by accident” someone cut him off. Han turned towards the voice and it was no one other than Minho. Of course.
The captain patted Han on the back proudly before continuing scolding. “Well what are you all standing here?? Bring the tank and fill it with water!”
-
The lack of space was making go crazy, but hey at least the pirates were oh so kind to not close the lid of the tank. Right after you were brought to this ship, you started planning an escape since you didn’t really want to be killed and sold by some dirty pirates.
“Hi merman.. you uumm hungry?” The once dark room was now full of light, as someone from the crew stepped inside with an oil lamp. You turned around, not wanting to be faced with your kidnapper. “Maybe he doesn’t speak English” the pirate mumbled and carefully knocked the tank’s glass. After multiple attempts to get your attention, the male sighed and left, leaving a plate of food near the aquarium.
You made sure that he was definitely not coming back, before reaching towards the plate. You took a piece of.. something and took a small bite that you quickly spit out. It tasted so bad, it felt like eating sand. You didn’t dare to eat the other things on the plate, fearing that they would taste the same- or even worse.
All through the rest of the evening, you listened to the crewmen and tried to make your escape plan based off of what you heard. The only problem was that you knew names, not faces. You knew that someone by the name Hongjoong was this ship’s quartermaster and that he was the one usually steering the wheel. You also knew that a seemingly young man named Wooyoung was guarding the door leading to the room where you were. You guessed that there were about 10 to 14 people on the ship with you and that alone made escaping so much harder than it already was.
The next couple of days went by with the same schedule. You woke up after a couple of hours sleep, thought about the best time to flee the ship, got some awful dinner and went to sleep.
During the days you had figured out that the best time to escape was during the night, when most of the crew were sleeping. Firstly you would climb out of the tank, as quietly as possible. Then you would crawl across the deck and jump into the sea. The only possible threats were Captain Chan, Hongjoong and Minho. It seemed like those three never slept and were always on the lookout.
Once it became dark, your plan started. Getting out of the tank was so much harder than you had originally thought and you ended up cutting yourself while jumping to the floor. The stinging feeling didn’t last long, thankfully. You clumsily opened the door and saw Wooyoung snoring.
Just don’t wake him up and we’re good, you thought. Your eyes wandered around the deck, trying to find any threats and when it seemed like everything was clear you started making your way to freedom. The plan was going almost too perfectly until a loud gasp could be heard. You quickly turned around and recognized the man who was standing a few meters away from you, utterly shocked. It was Felix, the ship’s other cook.
No one dared to say anything for a moment. Both of you just stood there completely still.
“Wh-what are you doing here??” The cook finally asked. You noticed how he was trying to be quiet and you were somewhat thankful for that. But before he could get an answer, you started dashing to the other side of the deck ready to escape.
Felix acted before he could think and tried to stop you as best as he could. Deep down he knew he was doing the wrong thing but he really didn’t want to disappoint the whole crew by letting you get away.
The noises woke Wooyoung up and the man was more than confused. “What are you staring at?? Help me!” Felix shouted while gripping onto your tail like his life depended on it. “Right right.. should I call the captain or-” Wooyoung mumbled, still half asleep.
“What the hell is happening here?”
Both Chan and Hongjoong stepped out of the shadows of the ship. No words needed to answer their question after seeing the scene in front of them.
You quickly ended up in a fight with four men and honestly if it wasn’t for the fact that you were so close to freedom, you would’ve given up a long time ago.
The last thing you remembered was accidentally slapping someone with your tail and then you were falling into the sea. You heard yelling but couldn’t care less anymore. You were free and- wait…
Your eyes focused on the figure that was slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean. The horrifying feeling creeped up your spine as you realised what was going on.
You had accidentally taken Felix with you.
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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 6 months
Text
Welcome Home | Chapter 12: It's a' Getting Closer
You never expected to live past your next birthday, let alone get magically sent to the 1890's. Nevertheless, here you are, stuck a hundred and twenty-ish years in the past... and in the care of a group of outlaws, at that. But as you slowly learn to make a life for yourself, you realize that maybe--just maybe--it isn't all bad. Maybe you can finally start living, not just surviving... something you never thought you'd have.
Oh, and then there's Arthur. He makes things a bit more complicated. Feelings and all that.
Ao3
///
The next morning, you wake up with one hell of a hangover. It's odd, considering you didn't drink all that much, but hey: you've always been a lightweight. One beer? Tipsy. Two beers? Drunk. Three beers? Uh oh. Four beers? Hospital time.
The aftermath of last night's alcohol makes you feel like you swallowed a mouthful of sand. You groan, sit up on your bedroll, and spit out some of the bad taste in your mouth. Your head is pounding. It's probably going to take a whole lot of water and whatever greasy food you can get your hands on to make it stop. Here in the 1890s, though, it's not like you can just go to the nearest Denny's for a hangover breakfast. You can only hope that Pearson at least has some bacon on hand. 
The rest of camp is already up and about. You hear the girls chit-chatting as they work, Abigail scrubbing hard at a stain on somebody's shirt, one that's probably blood, while Karen and Mary-Beth argue about who's stuck with mending socks. Tilly is in the process of collecting eggs from the chicken coop, and Molly is... well, doing whatever it is she likes to do. She gives you a halfhearted wave when you catch her eye, then turns to a mirror and starts messing with her hair. 
You wince as you slowly get to your feet. The sun, high in the sky, is far too bright for your liking. You must've slept in. You're honestly surprised that Miss Grimshaw let you, but when you see her, she doesn't snap at you to get to work. Instead, she gives you as much of a smile as she'll ever give anyone and goes back to yelling at Pearson. 
Figuring out how to work your legs is harder than it should be, but eventually, you manage to stumble over to one of the tables. You sink heavily into a chair. Your head is killing you, and you slowly lower it into your arms. The darkness soothes the pain some, but not nearly enough. And to top it all off, you suddenly remember that there's no such thing as ibuprofen yet. Great.
You almost fall asleep again. Before you can, though, there's a dull thunk of a cup being set on the table, and a warm, calloused hand on your shoulder. 
"C'mon," Arthur drawls from somewhere next to you. "Get some water in you."
You groan and don't make a move to lift your head. You've only just gotten the splitting pain to go down to a somewhat less splitting pain. You don't want to ruin that progress.
"I ain't above makin' you," Arthur says, amused. "Trust me: you'll feel better for it."
Then make me, you think. Even through the hangover, the idea kicks up your heartrate a notch. 
Begrudgingly, you lift your head from your arms and take a sip of the water. Your stomach rolls like you're on a boat, and it takes all of your strength not to puke. 
"I think I'm dying," you groan. "Actually: no. I'm already dead. You're talking to my corpse."
Arthur chuckles, his hand absently rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder. You don't think he's aware he's doing it, nor of the effect it has on you, and before you can stop yourself, you're leaning into his touch. 
"You ain't dying," he says softly. Then, quieter: "Not on my watch."
You tilt your head back to look up at him. He's watching you with a fond, gentle smile—such a contrast to the ruthless outlaw he claims to be. It looks good on him. His fingers dig a little harder into your shoulder, carefully easing the knots and tension you've built up over the last few weeks. A sound escapes you. It's small, but the effect is immediate. Arthur's eyes widen just enough to let you know he noticed, and a flush starts creeping up his neck. 
Mortified, you stand up so quickly that you almost trip over your own feet. Arthur reaches out like he's going to steady you, but you're already scrambling away.
"Gotta go help with stuff, sorry!" You call over your shoulder as you get as far away from him as possible.
You make a beeline for Abigail, who's still hard at work with the stained shirt. Before she can even say hello to you, you've grabbed her wrist, hauled her to her feet, and started dragging her towards a secluded spot in the woods not too far from camp. 
"What in the goddamn hell, Y/N?" She demands, rubbing her wrist a little as you finally let her go. "I was in the middle of somethin'." 
You're certain your face is burning as you struggle with what to say. Abigail takes a closer look at you, realizes that you're obviously distressed, and sighs.
"What happened?" She asks in a gentler tone.
"Well," you manage, "I, uh... I have a problem."
Abigail rolls her eyes, exasperated, but not angry. You can tell she's reaching into a deep well of patience. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Y/N."
You start pacing, twigs and leaves crunching under your boots. Where can you possibly start? How can you even begin to tell her what happened? There's no telling how she'll react to the truth, that Arthur massaged your shoulder and you made a sound that left little to imagination. 
Dear God. You're screwed.
"I think I like Arthur more than a friend," you say in a jumbled rush. 
Abigail stares at you for a moment, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly parted. You silently wait for your inevitable demise.
"You..." She says slowly. "You're just now figuring that out?"
All of the air leaves your lungs in a startled exhale. "What?"
"Y/N..." Abigail shakes her head, a smile slowly growing on her lips. "The only one who doesn't know you fancy Arthur is Arthur... and apparently you until now."
Your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets as you gape at her. But... you'd been so careful. You'd made sure that nobody noticed how you felt about Arthur, done your best to hide it since he found you in the Grizzlies. And now for Abigail to tell you that it's all for nothing? 
Uh oh.
"He can never know," you say.
Abigail sighs. "Don't worry. He's about as dense as any man with this sort of thing."
Relief floods your body, and you sag against the closest tree. So far, crisis averted. 
"But if you want my advice," Abigail continues as she kneels next to where you've crumpled, "I'd say go after him. Arthur's a good man, Y/N. He'll treat you right."
You're already shaking your head before she even finishes.
"I can't," you mumble. "I don't wanna ruin things... and I don't think he feels the same way about me."
Abigail chuckles and gently pats your knee. When you look at her, she's smiling.
"Don't be so sure, Y/N."
///
Short chapter this time around because I wanted to get this story back up and running ASAP. Definitely going to aim for weekly updates from now on, so be on the lookout every Sunday!
Also: I'm not dead! Surprise!
See y'all next week!
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