#And being like “ok you want to kill yourself but I’m not letting you do anything unless you beat me in chess”

[scarlethexelove]

can you please write Y/N and Wanda also Natasha is not dead here (up to you thooooo) , and Y/N pretty much replaced Vision. But before these events Natasha has always been there for Wanda, (after Endgame) so she didn’t make a hex but still griefed about Y/N and Wanda making a big move for Y/N’s reincarnation but in a good way. After Y/N being back from the dead. She learns that her soon to be wife has already fallen for Natasha and her reincarnation just meant nothing and Y/N didn’t go on with her life and ended it just there.

Wands regretted everything until she lost herself and made a big mess with the universe (pretty much MoM) and overall Wanda regretting everything, and when she gets us back (it can be Wanda taking another one of us in an another universe) or her just making us alive from the dead *this all can be up to you author*

I love your stories 🖤

I'm Sorry

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: Cheating (Allusions to it but really it is there), Angst, Major character death, Mentions of Murdering innocent people, Angry Wanda, Suicide by others, Not really a happy ending, tiny bit of fluff like very little.

A/n: This one was fun. I hope I did it justice. I may have changed a little bit of it but I hope you still like it.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Everything hurts. You have a splitting headache and it feels like you got run over by a MACK truck. Your face scrunches up in pain, the lights too bright even with your eyes closed. Sensory overload has you curling in on yourself. Hands come up to clamp on your ears when you hear a voice, but it’s so loud and muffled that you don’t even know who is talking to you. All you want is for all of it to stop. You had been an experiment but that experience doesn’t compare to what you are feeling right now. 

“Nat turn the lights off.” Wanda orders the older woman in the room. Nat flicks the light off as she watches Wanda brush some hairs back. You let out a whimper at the contact. It breaks her heart seeing you like this. When her hand brushes against your skin she can feel you. She feels your pain. Red whisps leave her fingers slowly seeping into your skin. Soon enough the pain starts to dissipate. 

Wanda crawls in the bed behind you wrapping herself around your frame. You feel a body pressed against yours and you immediately know who it is. “Wanda.” You whisper. You turn around in her hold and nuzzle into her neck. “I’m here sweetheart.” Wanda combs her fingers through your hair. You're so tired and she feels like home. You fight to stay awake but her ministrations have your eyes closing. “It’s ok detka get some rest.” Wanda whispers and kisses the top of your head. You finally let yourself drift off to sleep. 

A little over 5 years ago the team was fighting Thanos. Your powers let you see brief points into the future. You saw that if you died that Wanda would be safe. Thanos needed you gone to get what he wants but you also saw that in the end the Avengers would win. The event that sets that in motion was your death. So as much as it pained you you let it happen. To save Wanda, to save the world. Wanda could move on but the fate of the universe was in your hands. 

“Wanda.” Nat says softly from the corner of the room. She looks at you curled into Wanda’s arms. A sight she had hoped to never see again. “Natty, she needs this.” Wanda says softly, still stroking your hair as you sleep. Nat just nods. It hurts but she knows it is something that Wanda had to do. 

Your mind races. Your dreams are of your last memories. The fight with Thanos and how you let him kill you just in order to save everyone else. Your body shoots straight up as your chest heaves from the memories. You feel a hand rubbing up and down your back but you haven’t quite gained control. You mind questioning how you are here. Why are you alive? You should be dead. That was all your mind could see and you had accepted that fact but here you are. Tears stream down your face. “Why?” You're not sure what you are asking, who you are asking the question of. You feel so small. “Why what detka?” Wanda asks you with concern on her face. “Why am I here? I should be dead.” Your voice breaks and Wanda’s heart hurts seeing you like this. 

Wanda starts explaining everything that had happened while you were gone. Excluding some details. They had worked tirelessly to bring back those that were snapped away. Wanda and Nat become the de facto leaders of the Avengers. It took 5 years but they finally did. Once that was done they set out to bring you back. It took some time but somehow when Bruce had snapped his fingers he was able to bring you back. But somehow you ended up in a pocket universe in a deep sleep. They were finally able to get you back safely. All the information flooding into your mind is a lot to handle but eventually you understand. Somehow the universe had different plans for you. 

It’s been a few months since you came back. Most things are the same but something seems off. Wanda hasn’t been as loving towards you. Before she was always so touchy and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets cuddling while watching some sitcoms. But now she barely even gives you a hug. Sleeping in the same bed has you feeling like she isn’t even there. She is a million miles away even if she is only right beside you. Your heart hurts not understanding, is she still mad at you for letting Thanos kill you. Anytime you try to talk to her she just brushes you off and says nothing is wrong. So you're left alone to your thoughts and worries.

Nat had moved into your shared home while you were away. The two women grew closer at the loss of so many others. You want to be angry and jealous that Nat gets more attention than you but you still trust Wanda hoping that she will come around eventually. 

You’re walking towards the kitchen when you can hear a hushed discussion between Wanda and Nat. You stop just shy of the door frame listening in when you hear your name mentioned. “Wanda you need to tell Y/n.” Nat says her body leaning on the counter and arms crossed against her chest. “Tell her what Nat?” Wanda counters. She sits at the table with a sad look adorning her face. “You know what Wands.” Wanda lets out a sigh. “I can’t do that to her Nat.” Wanda’s voice is low. “You can’t keep lying to her. You can’t keep lying to me. I love you Wanda.” There is a pause in the conversation before Wanda speaks up. “I love you too.” Your heart drops the moment the words spill from Wanda’s mouth. 

You’re quick to turn on your heels as the tears start to stream down your face. Holding in a sob as it all makes sense now. In your absence the two had fallen in love. You’ve somehow become the other woman in Wanda’s life. You don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. Your powers should have felt this but they hadn’t and now you’re left heartbroken. You push into your shared room focusing on pulling yourself back together. You can’t let them know that you know until you figure out what to do. 

The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your despair for the moment. You see Fury’s name flash on the screen. You quickly wipe your tears and answer the phone. “Sir.” You say masking the waver in your voice. “Y/l/n I have a mission for you. Since you have been cleared for duty I would like you to head out tonight with Barton and Barnes. I have sent over the reports for you to go over. Good luck out there and glad to have you back.” The phone line goes dead as the man hangs up the phone. You open the report sent to your phone. You now see the flashes in your mind of how the mission will go. And that is where you see it. What you’re going to do. 

That night you enter the Quinjet greeted by the two men. Hugs and joy at your return. Your powers are always a significant help to missions. You three go over the plans for the mission. You lay out what you had seen in your vision, excluding one crucial part that the men don’t need to know. You know if they did they would try and stop you. But your heart aches and you put on a fake smile so that no one would expect a thing. 

Everything was set to go. A long message meant to play for Wanda after it was already too late. This would be your last mission. Wanda and Nat would have all that they could ever want. You wouldn’t be the burden that you know you are. They should have just left you dead if they were going to do this to you. So you made that decision for them. You weren’t going to come back from this mission alive. 

The mission was going perfectly. Playing out exactly as you had seen it. Bucky and Clint were together and far away from you. You snuck into the building off the side. It held some hostages that had been taken by Hydra. You snuck in taking out every agent that you passed. It didn’t take long for you to make it to the hostages. You were able to release them from their binds and get them out of the building safely. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. Bucky and Clint were waiting exactly where you told them too. Having each hostage run towards them for safety while you stood with your back towards the open area. 

You waited knowing what was to come soon. You could change the outcome but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be in a world where Wanda loved someone else. You waited with bated breath as the last hostage ran towards your teammates. You exhale the air in your lungs before a sharp pain in your stomach is felt. You grit your teeth turning around firing off a few rounds, but you're hit with another round to the shoulder. You can hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Clint calling out for you but you push through. Another shot to the leg sends you kneeling on the ground. You push through the pain as you stand. A few steps forward as you unload your mag into the man. Another man appears with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You watch as an arrow sores through the air and hits the man directly in the chest. His finger squeezes the trigger as he falls. You’re hit with the array of bullets. Your body sways before falling to your knees then falling to the ground. The ground below you stains red as your body goes cold. 

Wanda felt a change in the universe. She cries out causing Nat to panic next to her. Wanda clutches her chest in pain. She felt this twice before. Once when Pietro died, the second when you died fighting Thanos. She had never wanted to feel that pain again but here she is feeling it. The world stops turning at that moment. Not again she thinks tears streaming down her face. 

The doorbell rings but Wanda doesn’t hear it. Nat tries to console the younger woman pleading for her to tell her what is going on. It continues to ring when no one answers until Nat gets up and finds out what is going on. Wanda sits sobbing on the couch. Nat walks back in with a folded paper with your hand writing on it. Wanda scribbled on the top. 

Wanda sees this snatching the paper from her hands and quickly opening it before reading the words delicately written across the page. 

My dearest Wanda,

You’re reading this because I’m gone. I’m sorry to do this to you

but I can’t live life like this. I know that you no longer love me.

I see the way you look at Natasha and I know she is now

the love of your life. I want you to be happy. I saw this coming

and I could have changed it but who am I to keep you from the 

one you love. Don’t mourn for me, just live your life. You don’t

have to worry about me anymore and you can be happy, that 

is all I have ever wanted for you. But my love I can’t live in

a world where you love someone else. So this is goodbye.

Love,

Y/N

Tears hit the paper blurring the words in front of her. Wanda’s heart shatters into a million pieces. How could this have happened? How could she have thrown away all that you two have? She is absolutely disgusted with herself and with Nat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go but she was blinded and now her eyes are finally open but now it could be too late.

Through the tears Wanda gets up making her way out the door and immediately taking off towards the compound. Her magic lifts her into the sky as she flies as fast as she possibly can to the one place she knows you would be. Praying that maybe it was all wrong, maybe you can be saved. Nat calls out for her as she leaves her alone standing in the yard. 

The ground cracks below Wanda’s feet as she lands hard on the ground. Anger and guilt pumping through her veins as she walks towards the building. Her magic slamming doors open as she makes her way to the med bay. Your body is already lying there. Bucky and Clint talking outside the room. Windows lining the wall as they keep looking back at your body. Wondering what they would tell the angry redhead but they didn’t have to wait too long. They spot Wanda fear and sorrow on their faces. “Wanda we can -” Clint is cut off. “Save it.” 

Wanda makes her way into the room. The boys walked away looking like kicked puppies. Wanda’s breath picks up as she sees your still body encased in a black bag. The top half of it unzipped revealing your pale skin and blood staining your suit. You look so peaceful like you could be sleeping. Wanda cups your cheek, a light jerk of her hand when she feels how cold you are. She lets her magic slip out the ends of her fingers going into your head. Fresh tears streaming down her face. “I can’t feel you.” A sob wracking her body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry love you never deserved any of this.”

Wanda silently sobs as she sits next to you. Your hand in hers as she just stares blankly at your body. The door clicks open a while later. Wanda doesn’t turn to look. “Go away.” Her voice is hoarse from all the crying but she doesn’t care. “Wands.” Nat whispers. “I said leave.” Wanda’s voice raises as her head snaps towards the door red swirling in her eyes. Nat knows she is just upset so she doesn’t back down. “Detka.” She whispers. “Don’t you dare detka me.” Wanda stands letting your hand drop off the side of the bed. “This is all your fault. She is fucking dead because of you.” Wanda seethes. “Don’t put that blame on me Wanda. You're just as much the problem.” Wanda stalks towards Nat red surrounding her body and slamming her into the window, a crack forming behind her body. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me. It should have been you. You should have died back then. I would still have her. She is more of a woman than you will ever be. I let myself be blinded by you. Blinded by the love you gave but I didn’t love you. I don’t fucking love you.” As hard as Nat can be, Wanda's words cut deep. Tears shine in her eyes as she holds back a sob. Wanda sends Nat’s body flying through walls until she lands outside. Wanda follows as she does so. Releasing Nat’s body which is now battered and bruised. She then flies off into the night. 

It’s been months since anyone has seen Wanda, held up in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mountains. Some have tried but they always get blasted out so they stopped trying. She has been lost to the Avengers and they aren’t sure they could ever get her back. The day they lost you they also lost her. 

Wanda’s black tipped fingers comb through a book. A very dangerous book. The more she searches the darkness in her soul grows and the blacked tips grow. She has tried everything in the book to bring you back to life but none of it works. She had another attempt today, something new, something hopeful but it ends with a magical outburst throwing everything in the cabin. She continues to comb through the pages ignoring the disarray around her. She closes her eyes and lets her magic do the work. It’s not long before she finds something new. She thought she had seen all that this book had to offer. All that the Darkhold had to offer to the Scarlet Witch. 

You are sitting in your living room, two small boys cuddled into each of your sides as you watch a movie. Empty bowls of ice cream sitting on the coffee table that you have your feet propped up on. You laugh as your son Tommy tries to mimic you. You other son Billy giggling along. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. “Not funny.” He mumbles. You can’t help but ruffle his hair which makes him swat at your hand causing you to chuckle. “One day buddy you will reach it.” You kiss the top of his head. All of you falling back into the silence, the only sound is the movie playing. 

Your mind flashes to a vision of Wanda but not your Wanda standing in the middle of your living room. Her face twisted into something you can’t even imagine in your wildest dreams from the woman you loved. The pain that she has caused to get to this point. As your world comes back to you you are met with a star shaped portal in the middle of your living room. What was once an image in your head now in front of you. 

Wanda’s hand wraps around the young girl's throat in front of you. “What did you do?” She seethes. The two boys next to you are terrified. You quickly stand and tell them to run but Wanda’s head snaps towards you. The couch you were once on is now thrown at the stairs blocking the way. You push your boys behind you in a protective manner. Wanda’s eyes trailing the boys curiously, a small warm spot forming in her heart seeing your protective nature. She didn’t expect to find you with kids but she always wanted a family with you so it can’t hurt. 

“Wanda!” You yell at her. Wanda is startled by the anger in your voice. You have never yelled at her like that. “Let the girl go.” You demand of her. Her hand slips from the girl's neck as she coughs on the ground holding her throat. Wanda starts stalking towards you but you back up with your boys behind you. 

Billy tugs on your shirt a little trying to get your attention and you quickly look back at him. “Is that Mama?” His voice sounds so small. Your attention quickly turns back to the woman in front of you who has stopped. You can see tears in her eyes at Billy’s words. “That is not your Mama.” You shake your head. You can see the hurt on Wanda’s face as she gets closer to you. “I can be.” She says a crack in her voice. 

You start to walk towards the woman but your boys try to stop you. You motion that you will be ok as you stand in front of Wanda. “You could never be my Wanda.” She falls to her knees, her hand on her chest as she looks up at you. “I can see your hurt and your pain but you have caused so much more and for what.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did it for you.” She whispers. “I would never want you to do this for me. Wanda you murdered people. Good people.” Wanda stands back up and moves towards you, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You back up away from her touch. “I wanted you back.” You scoff and shake your head. “After seeing what you did I could never want you. I miss my Wanda but you are not her and could never be.” 

Wanda’s face twists in anger. You try to back up again but she is quicker this time. She grabs your wrist in her hands. “Wanda that hurts.” You whimper as she digs her nails in. “Too bad. I’ll make you love me just you see. Now that I have you back I will never let you go again.” There is a panic that rises in you. “We will have the perfect little family.” She looks behind you. “Won’t we boys?” They are too scared to say or do anything just holding onto each other for comfort. 

Wanda keeps one hand on you as she turns around. Her wrist flicking as America is thrown back through the portal. It dissipates from the middle of the room before she turns back to you. You struggle to get free but she is stronger than you remember. She clicks her tongue and looks at you, her hand finally reaching to cup your cheek. Red whisps leave her fingers as they sink into your mind. “All mine now.” She replaces every memory and thought of your Wanda with her. Changes the fear to love. You’re hers now and no one will change that. Her magic soon flowed into the boys having the perfect little family. She would tear the world in two to keep you and the boys forever. 

#syd answers #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader angst

[castielmacleod]

Fics I will never write: KING’S GAMBIT

King’s Gambit is a short canon compliant fic following Crowley through his last few days leading up to his eventual suicide. Nearly eaten alive by loneliness and self-loathing, the king of hell reflects on the past and tries to envision a future. When he ends up sitting alone in the bunker bandaging his stabbed-through hand, he makes a decision—only to be surprised by a visit from the new Death, who brings with them a peculiar proposition: a simple game of chess to decide his fate. Dark character study with themes of suicide, depression, social isolation, and unrequited love. Gen with minor past Crowstiel and unrequited DrowIey.

#Sorry for obsessing over the miserable end they wrote for this character. As if it’s my fault #Crowley spn #Tw suicide #Fics I will never write #Billie and Crowley brotp agenda #My posts #This would not have a happy ending unfortunately #Because I really need to like. Channel my Crowley feelings into proper words #The chess game is inspired by The Seventh Seal which is an old movie where a guy plays chess against Death to see whether he lives or dies #Except in this fic it would be reversed—if Crowley loses to Billie he has to live. Or something. Honestly I’m still thinking it out #In any case I love the image of Billie and Crowley having a deep conversation about life and death over a chessboard #It’s interesting because I hc that Billie and Crowley were lifelong friends while she was a reaper #But as Death she now has a responsibility not to directly interfere. At the same time she doesn’t want her old friend to kill himself #She reaped his soul the first time he did that and that was literally how they met. It’s not how she’d want them to end too #And like if she can tell DW to keep living I’m sure it wouldn’t be ooc for her to encourage her friend to keep living too #And being like “ok you want to kill yourself but I’m not letting you do anything unless you beat me in chess” #And not only is she VERY good at chess but she can use the time spent in the game to try and talk him down #I just also really like the idea of the literal embodiment of death trying to save a life like. Oughh you know #It’s just that she would ultimately have to leave it up to Crowley. Especially since he is technically already dead #and not beholden to the soul reaping system anymore. #It would be difficult for her in a subtle way

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

#dean winchester x you #the winchester brothers #dean winchester x reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #sam x sister!reader #supernatural sam #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural dean #supernatural

[cranberryjuice-posts]

A BRAINROT THAT I CANT LET GO OF!!

VAMPIRE!DAUGHTER OF HADES!READER X CLARISSE

Like Clarisse finds out cus reader was like feeding off a animal or smth and offers reader to feed on her instead if reader uses her superspeed to like win capture the flag or something!

Maybe a camper sees a old scarred bite mark on Clarisse and asks about it but Clarisse quickly makes a excuse 👀 (they eventually date ofc)

- Apex predator -

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x Fem! Vampire! Daughter of hades! Reader

An - this is pretty short and rushed I’m sry I had a comp today and I just wanted to get sum out🙁🙁🙏

“Y/n!” Clarisse yelled running around the forest.

You heard her. Only problem you were to busy to answer. Clarisse continued to move about the forest trying to find you.

After a few minutes the stronger girl noticed you crouched down with your back facing her. “Shit.. there you are” the girl panted. You didn’t respond only keeping yourself hidden from her. “Hello? Babe what are yo-“ clarisse stopped once she saw blood pooling around you.

Cautiously clarisse set her spear down against a tree before slowly stepping to you.

You were frozen not knowing what to do, if clarisse saw what you were doing she would hate you and if you ran she would be suspicious. In anxious thoughts you hadn’t realized clarisse turned you around.

Once the She had saw you with a dead rabbit in hands and blood dripping from your mouth she looked down at you with horror. Taking a step back clarisse grabbed her spear storming off.

You threw the dead rabbit aside quickly getting up and chasing after the girl. “Wait wait please let me explain” desperately you tried to catch up to clarisse who was now walking away.

“Explain what!” She turned around looking You up and down “explain why you were eating a dead rabbit raw?! Yeah I would love to hear about how my girlfriend is a psycho”

“Clarisse please” You begged grabbing her arms. “I know this is weird but I can explain I just need you to trust me” looking in her eyes you watched as clarisse started to calm down. “Fine” she bitterly spoke. “Explain”

You let out a slow breath before speaking “being the daughter of hades im a forbidden kid.. I had been killed a long time ago and in an attempt to save me my dad made a deal with thanatos to bring me back but even that costed something, my humanity. In Order to keep living and aging like a normal person I have to drink blood”

Clarisse looked like she didn’t belive You but at the same time she knew the gods did unbelievable things. “So what your a vampire now or something” she scoffed, nodding your head you looked down embarrassed by it all. “I’m sorry.. I know I should of told you but it’s just… fuck” you sighed

After a few moments clarisse grabbed your face, confused you followed the girls lead allowing you to turn your face in different directions. Eventually she pried your mouth open taking a look at your sharp K-9’s.

Clarisse sighed pulling You Close by your waist into a hug. “You should of told me” she kissed your forehead. “We’re having a talk about this later ok, a serious sit down talk got it” she pulled back holding your face. You nodded once again placing your hand over hers. “Good, now I need you to come with me to do something to get the flag”

———

“And That’s Everything” You sighed, sitting on your girlfriends lap as you both were in clarisses bed. Clarisse nodded rubbing soft circles on your hips. “Have you ever tried to feed off a person?” She asked looking up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders “once I mean human blood holds me over much longer than rabbit or animal but I don’t know anyone who willingly would let me do that”

Shifting around some clarisse pulled her camp shirt collar down tapping her neck. You looked confused earning you an annoyed scoff from clarisse “do you need an invitation just do what ever it is you do”

“Are You Sure? It’s gonna leave a mark I don’t know”

“I don’t care about a damn mark”

Debating it for a second you sighed leaning forward. Sinking your teeth into clarisses neck you punctured the girls skin. Immediately sucking on her neck you reveled in the warmness of the girls blood.

After a few moments You pulled pack panting. Looking at clarisse you started to laugh as the tough girl covered her face from how flustered she was.

“You liked that?”

“Fuck off”

You leaned in giving her a teasing peck on the lips, laughing as the girl jokingly complained.

——

Random camper - Jesus clarisse what happened to your neck

Clarisse - Thats none of your damn business

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fandom

[llamagoddessofficial]

Can you believe I've never done Farmtale Sans before? As a certified country girl? Shocking, I know. I'll rectify this issue with my latest brainrot scenario immediately

---

“whoever this is, it better be real fuckin’ important,” the voice at the other end said, gruff and tired, heavy with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness.

Immediately, shame washed over you. The very small amount of steam you’d managed to muster up completely dissipated from your body as you imagined Sans’ disappointed and disbelieving reaction to your pathetic request.

This was a mistake.

“... H-hey. Uhm... I’m fine, I didn’t mean to call. Butt dial, hahah.” Your voice nearly cracked. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“... wait.” His voice instantly changed. “hey, don’t hang up-”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You hung up, and put the phone down. Now you were right back to square one, sitting at the kitchen table in a freezing empty house at 2 in the morning. It had taken you almost half an hour to muster up the courage to call him- thirty minutes of sitting by the phone, wrapped up in your coat, shaking and holding back tears. You started plotting places you were going to sleep. Maybe if you put more wood in the kitchen stove, you could just sleep at the table until morning. 

... You inherited this place from your grandmother. It was a ‘rustic’ house that hadn’t seen human company for over a decade, in the middle of the deep countryside, cut off from almost everything. Spooky, draughty, on nights like tonight sitting in the kitchen was like sitting in a fridge. You had moved out of necessity- your landlord in the city had evicted you from your beloved apartment to jack up his prices, and you couldn’t find anywhere else to live except this middle-of-nowhere house left in your name.

You had lived in the city your whole life. You weren’t used to being in the country, not at all. The month you’d spent here had only reinforced that fact to you, over and over.

Something made a noise outside. An animal, maybe. You curled your coat tighter around you.

The only upside so far had been meeting the monsters that made up the tight-knit community you had been unceremoniously dropped into. Papyrus and Sans, especially, had been so wonderful and helpful. Sans had told you to call if you needed anything.

... Which was exactly why you didn’t have the heart to tell him why you were really calling. You didn’t want him to think any worse of you than he probably already did. A stuck-up city girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

You were scared.

... 

The phone rang. The sound made you jump, it felt so loud in the silence. Despite your increasing shame, and the desire to just let it ring... you picked up.

“c’mon, don’t be like that.” He sounded much softer than when he had first answered. “what’s wrong? something happen?”

“N-no.” Hearing someone else’s voice was so comforting. You felt so alone, far away from everyone. “It’s nothing.”

You obviously weren’t very convincing. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you sound terrified.”

“I’m just cold.”

“didja kill someone? do i need to come over and help hide a body?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you giggle a little.

...

It just came. You didn’t entirely know why. Probably because it was two, and you hadn’t slept since six the previous morning. Unable to help yourself, you just... burst into tears.

“hey. s’ok, you’re gonna be ok. i’m on the way.”

“N-no, no, please,” You pressed your sleeve against your eyes The shame was absolutely overwhelming. “Please don’t come,”

“too late. already outta bed, it’s serious business. you gonna tell me what’s got you all shaken up?”

You pulled your knees up to your face. Well, no hiding it now, huh? He’d heard you sobbing over the phone. Your voice crumpled under a mixture of tears, fear, immense fatigue and shame. You felt like such a baby. 

“Th-there’s a huge spider on my bed,” you finally admitted, feebly. “I-I’m... I don’t know what to do.”

“aw jeez. why didn’t you just say?”

You could suddenly barely talk through the crying. Hours of stress, all coming out in one mess. He probably thought you were pathetic.

“hey. knock knock.”

As he said that, you heard two soft knocks on your side door. You jumped up, what the hell? Was that Sans? You dropped the phone and rushed to the door to let him in, almost tripping over yourself. 

You opened the door, the air was full of the sound of wind and crickets. Sans stood in the darkness outside of the house, dressed in a thick knitted sweater, blue and white striped pyjama bottoms, big heavy boots, and a coat over the top of it all. He had the phone in one hand, and his smile widened when he saw you.

Shocked, you scrubbed at your eyes and nose again, self consciously trying to wipe off the tears and snot. He lived half an hour's drive from you. “H-how... how did you get here so fast?”

“shortcut.” He winked, those lovely emerald green eyelights glimmering in the low light. “can i come in?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping to the side. Maybe he knew roads your map apps didn't. Sans eagerly came into the light, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him.

“this way?” he asked. 

... You showed him to the bedroom, but cowered in the doorway. 

“I-it’s under the sheet.”

Sans didn’t even hesitate. He approached the bed and flipped back the sheet. The spider hadn’t moved since you last saw it scurry under your bedclothes, still sitting right there, with its fat hairy body and sharp legs. It was probably the biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. You felt a horrible chill pass over you.

“dang. he is big. look at the size of that gangly fucker.”

Having said that, Sans just... grabbed it. He picked the spider up before it could run and held it in his enclosed fist like he was scooping up a penny he had dropped on the floor. Just like that, he moved across the room and pulled back the curtain, cracked the window open, stuck his arm out, and threw the spider out into the darkness.

He closed the window again. The air felt less heavy. He even tugged the handle to make sure the window was all properly sealed up, pulling the curtains closed again.

It took him all of fifteen seconds.

“all good.” He turned to you, grinning and showing you his open palms. No spider. “successfully evicted.”

...

You started crying again. 

Sans mumbled a soft ‘aw jeez’. He didn’t hesitate to cross the room, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug, ignoring your babbled apologies. 

“he really spooked ya, huh?” A gentle hand smoothed over your hair. He smelled like sweet hay, hours of sunshine, and something slightly musky. “how long were you tryna drum up the courage?”

“T-two hours,” you sobbed, muffled in his sweater.

You’d expected him to laugh at you. But he didn’t. He just held you, letting you cry out all the stress that had been building up over the course of the night. You were pretty sure this was the first time you had been hugged since before you left the city.

Eventually, you calmed yourself down, reducing to just hiccups. Sans didn’t let go until you did, allowing you to pull away, but keeping a steadying hand on your arm. 

“easy, pet.” His voice was so warm and soothing. “you’re all good.”

“Fucking... I’m just such a baby.” Your sleeves were damp from all of the tear wiping you were doing. You made an unattractive sniffling sound. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“cus i’m used to ‘em. also, i’m a skeleton, so i don’t gotta worry about being bitten. no shame in bein’ scared of the big ones.” 

Your voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry you came out all this way.”

“... did you think i’d be mad at you?” he asked, softly.

“M-mhm.”

“i really don’t mind bein’ yer bug removing hero." He patted his nonexistent bicep. "tell ya what, it makes me feel very big an’ tough.”

He had you giggling again. He always did. He seemed proud of himself- his presence was balm to your Soul right now. 

“I just... I get so scared at night.” Your cheeks were hot. “It’s so quiet, and dark. I feel like I’m the only person around for miles. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

"this?"

"Living out here."

“hey, i beg to differ. yer already doin’ so much better than most who move to these parts.”

You looked up at him. Why did that tiny bit of praise make your heart swell so much? You didn’t feel like you were doing ‘better’. You’d just called your nearest neighbour at 2 in the morning to come save you from a spider. “But I’m always asking for help.”

“exactly. you’re askin’. that’s the important part.” His eyelights were so warm. “that’s how we make it work, out here. we help each other.”

Goddamnit. You were gonna cry again. You just about managed to choke it down.

“... the animal noises also probably freak you out too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, hah.”

“if you don’t know what yer hearin’, it can be pretty scary.”

... You sniffled.

...

“... you’re shaking. d’ya want me to stay?”

How did he know? He always just seemed to know. You nodded, meekly. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and you knew the house would feel even colder and emptier once you’d known how it felt while you had company.

“Will Papyrus be worried?”

“he knew i was headin’ out to help ya. he’ll be fine.”

... You didn’t need to say out loud where you wanted Sans to sleep. Both of you knew.

The two of you finally took off your coats, and Sans turned off the lights. His forest-coloured eyelights were the only illumination in the room. As soon as he shuffled into bed beside you, you gratefully curled up against him, he was so calming and so warm. He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, his comforting smell soothing your shot nerves. 

“... Thank you.” Your voice was almost a whisper.

“yer really warm.” he hummed. “just so you know, i’m a bit of a snorer.”

You probably should’ve been more concerned, sharing a bed in a very secluded location with a guy you barely knew. But you didn’t have the energy for it. For the first time in a long time, you were warm, didn’t feel lonely, and weren’t worried at all about bugs. 

“I don’t mind.”

... It was the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.

#llama writes #first time writing farmtale sans !! #big soft man

[silkscream]

resurrection

yuuta okkotsu x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 1.5k

ੈ✩ tags: smut (18+, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), yandere!yuuta (ish), obsession, death (yuuta literally brings you back to life), best friends to lovers, dubcon just to be safe (ur both so out of it lol), angst, not edited we die like men

ੈ✩ a/n: idk where this came from ok. runs away

you hadn’t prepared for death.

it was foolish of you. the prospect of it crossed your mind from the moment you stepped foot into jujutsu tech, yet it didn’t truly seep into your brain until your last few breaths. you were too busy wrapped up in the world of sorcery, naive and easily excited. you didn’t know how to be selfish.

evidently, neither did yuuta.

this is why you wake up in his arms, heart nearly hammering out of your chest from adrenaline. a corpse reborn.

you assumed death wouldn’t be so gory, that you’d go out in a blink and be welcomed with darkness. you never thought there would be a possibility for you to come back. it feels more like purgatory than reality, to be honest. and yet, the feeling of cold hands on you is more real than anything else — the touch makes your insides churn. your skin hot.

he shakes as he says your name. a pleading thing.

your mind swims with fog. your guardian angel is awfully pretty. pale, delicate skin with a split lip. black, shaggy hair hanging down over his dark blue eyes. long, slender fingers that grasp you with urgency. you blink twice and the angel is made in the image of your best friend.

“y-yuuta?”

“you— you’re okay,” he sobs. his teardrops fall onto your cheek.

“i’m okay,” you repeat.

you’re surprised when he kisses you square on the mouth, feverish in his movements, desperate in the insistence of his tongue past your lips. you stay like this for a bit — mindless and wrapped up in him. tasting copper and mint. he releases you when he hears you whine.

“yuuta—”

“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you whisper. you hang your head on his shoulder with eyes closed. the stench of blood surrounds you. the spills of cadavers that aren’t able to curse anyone anymore.

“i love you so much. couldn’t let you leave me. i’m sorry.”

“you’re apologizing for bringing me back to life?”

his eyes are wide like a deer running from a gunshot. you’ve never seen him like this. yuuta was often a ball of anxiety, but his strength always made up for it. at the moment, his fear makes him look younger.

“i didn’t want to hurt you. i could’ve… killed you if i didn’t do it right.”

“wasn’t i already dead?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, nodding. face full of dread. everything about him is so delicate despite his strength. everything about him is lithe, tender. you feel guilty for not dying.

“i’m sorry,” you stammer, despite knowing you don’t have anything to apologize for, even with your stupid guilt plaguing you. your train of thought runs off its tracks. the only constant is the boy in front of you.

“i love you too, yuuta.”

the way he stares at you is terrifying in a way that you can’t put into words. you still haven’t grasped reality in a way that makes sense since waking up in his arms, which continue to tighten around you. there’s lust in his eyes — like he wants to devour you. you know you’d let him, but your disorientation holds you back.

your best friend brought you back to life, and waking up in his arms feels like heaven. for some reason, it also feels like a courtroom. you think that the devil must be lurking around the corner awaiting your judgment.

yuuta must sense your fear because he kisses you again, more gently this time. your apprehension dissipates, melts into nothing as you revel in the touch of his hands roaming your body. despite being blood-stained, heavy with dread, you feel light and bare with him. you want to be bare with him.

“don’t ever leave me again,” he presses with a hard gaze. as if your dying was your fault. (later, you'll blame yourself.)

“i won’t,” you whisper.

“you know i’d do anything for you, right?”

“really?”

“yeah. anything you want.”

“why’s that?” you blink at him slowly, still out of it slightly. his warmth brings you back to reality in doses.

“because i think you deserve it.”

you’re lost in him. consumed in all of him — from the softness of his hair underneath your fingertips to the feeling of his breath on your cheek. it sends butterflies to your core, makes you delirious in your post-death state. he’s all you know right now.

“what do you think i deserve, yuuta?”

he gnaws on his bottom lip, tries to regulate his breathing. yuuta is definitely not thinking about you on his lap right now. of course not.

“don’t ask me that when you already know the answer,” he rasps. “don’t even — i can’t even put it into words. everything. everything good in this world.”

it’s you who kisses him first this time, hard enough that he loses his balance and doesn’t bother to maintain an upward stance. instead, he lets you straddle him, his back falling onto the ground as your hair falls from your face and tickles his forehead. you lap up his sighs with your mouth and your tongue. the groan that reverberates from his throat excites you.

you’re reckless. a grind of your hips has him panting and you want to tear him up. maybe you’ve been fooled and this really is the afterlife.

but no, everything about yuuta beneath you is so fucking real. his breath. his calloused fingertips trailing along the bruised flesh underneath your torn shirt.

it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself. whether you’re drunk on the strongest liquor or if you’ve ascended to heaven after a gruesome death, you think that god has a soft spot for you. it's the only way you could indulge in this kind of softness, isn't it?

yuuta pulls away from your mouth, a centimeter in distance from you, just to mewl your name.

heaven. you’re convinced it’s heaven. you had died and no one saved you, you think, but your best friend is there to greet you before you settle into your grave. in this case, you'd be fine with your death.

“need you, yuuta,” you whine. “need you so bad.”

your guardian angel would do anything for you, wouldn’t he? he’d spoken his vows to you just moments before, and he intends to follow through with them. but not until he taunts you in the slightest bit.

“what do you need, baby? hm?”

you groan, grazing your fingernails into the flesh underneath his shirt. squeezing at the muscle. pleading. you don’t register what comes out of your mouth. something like a prayer, of wanting him inside, of him fucking you back to earth. in your dreamlike state, you don’t care. as long as the proximity between you and your angel is close in distance, skin to skin. you’d live inside him if you could.

(he had thought the same of you since the moment he met you.)

time slows. you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering until you’re met with the deepest warmth you could ever feel. a collision of nerves.

yuuta buries himself inside you and you cry out to the universe. he drinks up your moans with his wet mouth, arms clutching your body tightly so that you can’t move.

although he’d brought you back to life, he thinks he could die just from the feeling of being inside you. your warmth could lay him to rest, with blissful peace on all sides.

you — his best friend, his lover, his executioner.

and him — your best friend, your lover, your deity. the one who brought you back to the living.

he hushes sweet nothings into your neck as he cradles you. successions of i love you, i love you, i love you—

and you come undone. it’s the first time tonight you truly feel like you’ve come back to life. power surges through your veins as your eyes awaken to the sheer attention that the earth demands of you.

you inhale once, then exhale, and your eyes meet midnight ocean blues blinking back at you. this is when you feel alive again. maybe the most alive you’ve ever felt in your short life.

“yuuta,” you breathe.

“i’ve got you, baby,” he coos, wrapping you in his clothing. wrapping you in his arms. “let’s go home.”

__

when you wake up in yuuta’s bed the next morning, it all feels like a bad nightmare that only haunted you in your sleep. yet the evidence is all there — bruises on your sides, dried blood on your thighs.

(it was the violent curse that killed you, for sure, but you have flashbacks of yuuta and wonder how strong his hands actually are.)

“yuuta,” you whine.

“baby,” he responds, his voice groggy. “it’s so early, isn’t it?”

“maybe.”

”we can celebrate your new life in a few hours. promise.”

“what if i die again within that time frame?” you pout, curling into him. he lets you, meshes your body into his side.

“i wouldn’t let that happen,” he rasps, kissing your temple. “you’re not allowed to die again. and if you do, i might curse you. and you know how that goes.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu smut #yandere #too many tags so little time... Bye

[n6ptunova]

gamer boy • chris sturniolo

a/n: can’t stop thinking abt gamer chris someone sedate me.

summary: giving chris head while he streams fortnite and tries to keep quiet.

warnings: idk if this counts as smut but suggestive content, blowjob, mentions of sex, not proofread

og fortnite dropped recently which meant your boyfriend has been more occupied than usual. it was seriously an addiction for this man, he stayed up for hours, forgot to eat, and worst of all- in your opinion- he barely paid any attention to you nowadays. you’ve had enough tho, so tonight you’re changing things up.

you sat on one side of chris’ bed, out of frame, since him and his brothers decided to stream today. you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone waiting for them to finish but it was taking too long. you looked over at chris and he’s never looked more fine, his hair was messy underneath the headset, his eyes serious and focused on the screen, his mouth parted- occasionally licking or biting his lips- you wanted him, you missed having chris all over you, his lips on yours, his dick inside you, you needed him. bad.

fuck it. you thought to yourself getting down on the floor and crawling quietly towards chris’ desk without being seen or heard. he briefly glanced down at you, not thinking much of your position, you’re probably just looking for something.

you put your hand on his knee slowly pushing his chair back so you could get underneath the desk fully. once you sat down on your knees you pulled him back so his crotch was right in front of your face. now he was confused. he couldn’t say anything since he was livestreaming with his brothers so he resorted to furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a quick questioning look- immediately looking back at the screen so he doesn’t look suspicious- or lose.

you put your pointer finger on your lips indicating for him to be quiet and started to slide both your hands up his thighs reaching for the waistband of his shorts. he was caught off guard by this causing him to lose the game, “NO FUCK- bro one second i need to use the bathroom.”

he turned off his camera and muted his mic, “what the fuck are you doing?” he didn’t sound annoyed or angry just confused.

“i miss you, chris. you haven’t been paying any attention to me lately,” you pouted.

“i’m so sorry babe but can it wait? i promise you’ll have my full attention when i’m done.”

“no.”

“no?”

“no chris. i’ve ran out of patience so you’re gonna play your stupid game with your dick in my throat. don’t make a sound so no one catches on ok?”

“i- ” he hesitated for a moment, stunned, before deciding he liked the risk, “yes ma’am.”

he stood up allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles and as he sat back down he made sure his lower half was out of frame before unmuting and opening the camera, “i’m back guys.”

as they started another round, you wrapped your fingers around his dick causing him to suck in his breath, and very very slowly you started to pump him, hands sliding up and down. he let a faint moan slip out and quickly closed his mouth shut. this was going to be hard.

you brought your face closer and licked a stripe going up his dick, your tongue flat against it. “ooohhh my god,” he groaned trying his best to disguise this as frustration from the game but truth is, he was losing his mind over the sight of you on your knees about to suck him off in front of thousands of viewers.

you repeated the same motion, tongue gliding up but this time once you reached the top you took him whole in your mouth, the tip briefly nudging your throat, coming back up you swirl your tongue in circles on his tip.

“oh fuck,” he almost rolls his eyes and head back, trying to control his breathing but he’s running out of breath, twitching and breathing heavier everytime his tip touched the back of your throat. you started getting sloppier with it and you could tell he was close.

“chris bro fucking focus that guy was right in front of you! you could’ve easily killed him!” matt yells at chris after losing again. chris can barely keep his grip on the controller- let alone play properly.

“ughhh i c-can’t with this stupid game, i need a drink brb.” he uses this as an excuse to turn off the mic and camera again.

the moment he did, he slumped far back into his chair, his head and eyes rolled backwards as he let out a sigh mixed with a moan. he bucked his hips upwards and tangled his hand into your hair.

“fuckfuckfuck please don’t stop,” he begs as you continue doing what you’re doing, enjoying the heavenly sounds coming out of his mouth until he finally releases his load into your mouth, whining and whimpering at how good it feels. you swallow whole and stick your tongue out to show him.

“you’re fucking insane. i love you.” he cups your face with both of his hands and leans down to give you the most passionate kiss wasting no time to deepen it with his tongue in your mouth as you sit yourself on his lap, running your hands through his hair. you pull back to catch your breath and you’re loving how fucked he looks right now.

“i love you too,” you giggle, “now get a win with your brothers already so we can finish this in your bed, you owe me.”

“anything for you ma.” he gives a quick kiss before you get up and go back to your original place on his bed, thinking about riding him next time he games with his friends with the camera off. this is gonna be fun.

#pt 2?? #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #n6ptunova

[jellieland]

What would you do if you knew you were going to die?

---

“Oh,” says Lizzie sullenly, “you want to talk to me now?”

She shrugs one shoulder.

“I don’t know. Try some last-ditch attempt to survive? Kill someone else?”

She glares.

“Are you happy now?” she snaps. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Now go away.”

-

“Oh, come on,” says Jimmy, looking slightly offended. “Is this targeted? I bet I’m the only one you asked this. Am I the only one you asked this?”

Still, after a moment, he considers it.

“Well, he says. “As long as somebody else goes first, I don’t really care, to be honest. I’d just… do what I like, I guess! Yeah! I’d do what I like. That sounds good.”

-

“Ooh,” says Mumbo. “I would try and take as many people as possible down with me.”

He looks thoughtful.

“That is what this game’s about. Isn’t it?”

-

“You know,” says Tango, thoughtfully, and then immediately breaks into yelling, “I would love to not die in the dumbest way possible! That would be just great!”

He shakes his head.

He takes a breath, lets it out, and is calm again.

“But hey,” he says. “It’s gonna happen sooner or later anyway. Right?”

“Just gotta keep trying.”

-

“I’d stay vigilant!” says Skizz. “Hey, it’s not over til it’s over!

“I mean, maybe I’d try being a bit less nice? See how that works out? But, eh. No regrets.”

“That’s what’s important, you know?”

-

“I would make the most of it,” says Etho. “Do what I can.”

He shrugs, half-smiling.

“And then I would go home.”

-

“Fight it,” says Martyn, wearily. “I guess.”

-

“Die, presumably!” says Bigb, and grins. “Ooh, or would I?”

“Hey, and what about you? What would you do? Just ask people questions? That’s kinda sad, don’tcha think?”

-

“What are you talking about?” says Grian, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t know who’s going to win. Nobody knows that until it happens. You don’t know you’re going to die until it happens. Not really.”

-

Cleo laughs. “Really? You’re asking me?”

After a minute, they shake their head.

“I know what you mean, though,” they say, and shrug. “I would do what I always do. I would hold on. Until I can’t, anymore.”

-

“I mean, see if I could do anything about it!” says Impulse.

He looks away. Gives an almost sheepish smile.

“I- I don’t really want to die,” he says.

-

“Die?” says Bdubs. “I’m not gonna die! What are you talking about, I’m never gonna die! I’m the best! I’m super strong!”

He clears his throat awkwardly.

“And- even if I did. Even if I did, I wouldn’t just let it happen. I have stuff to do.”

He pauses.

“I- ok, maybe I would work on my fighting skills a bit, even though they’re already GREAT! Just, uh, just in case! Just in case I needed to really show off. For some reason.”

He glances over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell Gem I said that. Or Pearl.”

“…Or Cleo. In fact, maybe just keep this to yourself, ok, you little tattletales!”

-

“Kill whoever said that!” says Joel, posture ready to pounce. “Are you threatening me? Is that what this is?”

He squints suspiciously.

“You better not be. I’ll get you.”

-

“Make it count,” says Scott.

-

“I’d have fun!” says Gem. “I would enjoy myself!”

She looks curious.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” she asks.

-

“…Try and make it count,” says Pearl.

-

“What do you mean?” says Scar, confused. “What would I do if I knew I was going to die? Isn’t that everyone? Isn’t that just-”

He frowns. “That’s just living. Right? Am I wrong?”

He looks curiously up at the Secret Keeper, towering above him.

“Is that not just life?”

#secret life spoilers #secret life smp #my writing #it's everyone but I'm not tagging them all

[joedirtymadre]

hello! I hope you’re having a good day ! I would like to request a Sabo x reader story or if you prefer a luffy x reader ( fluff )

A Cold

LUFFY X READER! FLUFF! (Please send more requests! Pease! Pleaaaaaaaase! 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

“(Y/NNN)!” You heard your boyfriend yell as he barged into the girls’ quarters. You watched from your bed as your cute captain ran towards you, and knelt by the bed. “Hi Luffy…” you said weakly. “Hi (Y/N), I heard you got sick,” he pouted. “Yeah… I think I caught something at the last island,” you coughed.

“Awe… I really wanted to hang out with you today… I wanted you to read me another book today,” he said softly, as he stared at you with a worried look. “Sorry Luffy, I don’t feel too good today. Maybe tomorrow?” You asked. “Tomorrow?” He whined. “Yeah, I’ll try to get better so we can play tomorrow,” you smiled softly. “Mmm… well can I sti-“ he was cut off by the door slamming open.

“Luffy…” you heard from a menacing Nami and Sanji as they entered the room. “Luffy, how many times have I told you that (Y/N) is sick!” Nami shouted as she grabbed him by the ear. “Leave our poor (Y/N) alone! She’s trying to rest,” Sanji snarled. “But she’s my girlfriend! Why can’t I be with her!” Luffy yelled back. “Cause I just said she’s sick you idiot!” Nami shouted as she smacked your boyfriend. Luffy fell to the floor as his head formed a large bump.

“Now (Y/N), we’ll leave you to rest,” Nami smiled, as she dragged your boyfriend out of the room. “I’ll bring you a delicious soup in a bit (Y/N)- chwan!” Sanji said as he shut the door behind him. You laughed to yourself as they left you to rest. You slowly fell back asleep.

“Psst! Pssst!” You heard, disrupting your sleep. You slowly turned to see Luffy by your bed again. “Hi Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N),” he smiled back. You looked over to your bedside table and noticed a bowl of soup with a small cup of cold medicine. “Are you hungry?” You asked. “A little bit,” he said. “If you want, you can have my soup,” you said softly. He quickly shook his head, “No it’s ok, you should eat it. You haven’t eaten anything today,” he said.

“I’m a little too tired to eat,” you confessed. “If you want… I can feed you,” he said. “Hmm, ok,” you said as you slowly sat up and leaned on your large pillows. He slowly grabbed the bowl of soup and sat on the edge of the bed. He then slowly spoon fed you. “Thanks Luffy,” you smiled. “No problem,” he said. “You know you don’t have to take care of me, right? I’m ok, you can go play with Usopp or Chopper,” you said. “No, I wanna do this, I like taking care of you,” he smiled. You felt your cheeks heat up. “Are you getting worse? Am I making you worse? Your face is super red!” Luffy said, panicking. “N-No, I’m fine,” you laughed.

“Good, cause if you got worse Nami and Sanji would kill me,” he said nervously. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell them how you’re being an awesome nurse,” you laughed. “Am I?” He asked excitedly. You nodded. You noticed as he stared at you, and let out a sigh. “Something wrong?” You asked. “No, but seeing you sick makes me sad… I want you to get better already, so we can go play or cuddle or listen to you read or… kiss,” he said, as his ears turned red. You giggled from his reaction. “Well… I think I’m feeling a little better, what if I read you a chapter from that book we started,” you said softly.

“Really? You mean it?!” He asked excitedly. “Yep, the book is inside my bag,” you said, and watched as Luffy quickly ran over to your bag to retrieve the book. He then hopped onto the bed, “Can I lay next to you?” He asked, with puppy eyes. “I want you to… but I’d hate for you to get sick,” you said softly. “I won’t get sick! I promise!” He said confidently. You laughed and decided to let him. You both laid down, with his head on your chest. “Ok, ok , I’m ready,” he said as he got comfortable. You laughed softly, and began reading the chapter.

After some time you both fell asleep while reading. Nuzzling into Luffy, as you both slept peacefully.

Nami’s POV

I slowly walked into the room, not wanting to wake up (Y/N). I noticed another head in the bed. “Luffy…” I whispered angrily. That boy is obsessed with this girl… I approached the bed, ready to drag him back out. Until I realized both of them were cuddling up and sleeping. “I guess you got lucky this time, Captain,” I smiled as I quickly turned around to head out of the room. I slowly shut the door behind me, letting the cute couple sleep.

#anime fanfic #fanfic #fluff #x reader #anime #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy x you #luffy fluff #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece x you #one piece strawhats #straw hat pirates #one piece oneshots #oneshot #f

[captainamericasmotercycle]

A james potter x fem!reader request <3

James is in love with Lily. He always has been, right? Ever since the first year of attending Hogwarts he has been chasing after her affection. It’s all anyone thinks of when they think of him. “The boy who chases the unattainable.” Through all of his failed attempts, Reader has stood next to him, supporting him through everything despite the raging love she feels for him.

James does something bad while trying to attain the affection of Lily… again. While his attempts work and he gets the girl, he ends up losing his best friend in the process.

Please have it end with a happy ending where they end up togetherrrr!! Thank youu!!

(If you want to of course, if you don’t mo worries. You can also add smut if you want 👀)

Lacy

smart, sexy lacy, i’m losing it lately

pairing: james porter x reader

warnings: cursing, jealously, james being stupid, insecurity, confessions, lowkey toxic!james, rosekiller and dorlene my babies, hurt/comfort, ANGST, twin evan and pandora 💘, james being shit on for being a douche, happy ending

wc: 2.5k

a/n: ok i absolutely love this idea but i’m not sure if i executed it very well, however i did have so much fun doing it :)))

It was no secret that James Potter was in love with Lily Evans. He always has been, it was just a part of Hogwarts life now - a wild shenanigan to gain the affection of the woman he wanted.

It was also no secret that you stood by his side and picked up the pieces for 6 years every time his schemes got shut down by Lily.

You and James had grown up together, your families running in the same social circle. So you were well aware of his antics and escapades. But in these 17 years of being by James’s side as a friend, you wanted more.

You have wanted more since the two of you escaped from one of your family’s parties when you were 12. He led you out to the garden where the two of you stargazed for the remainder of the boring, high-class party.

But you could never let James know the love you had for him. You were his highest confidante and his best friend, you didn’t want that to be ruined. You’d rather keep James as friend than not have him at all.

You love James, however, you hate Lily Evans. You hate everything about her. Her stupid beautiful smile, her perfectly kept hair, her sweet personality, her Outstanding test scores, and of course the undeniable love and admiration from James Potter. She is just perfect, and you hate her for it. Except you can’t really hate her. You hate the envy you’ve curated towards her. She is so admirable it’s annoying as hell.

You sat in the Marauders’ room, helping James plan out his next gesture for Lily. The rest of the Marauders were spread around the room doing various things, reading, drumming, smoking.

You were getting annoyed at him now, you just wanted him to notice you. Of course you were there but you wanted him to see you, not see through you. Tension had been thick between the two of you for weeks.

“Alright so pink flowers or blue flowers? Or both?”

“Is this a baby shower?”

James frowned at your harsh tone, “Okay…”

You held your hand at the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, “Just get her Calla Lillies or something. Simple flower and her name is Lily,”

“Oh that’s an amazing idea! You’re a genius, what would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes, probably get yourself killed, you thought.

James noticed your slumped demeanor, and so did Remus as he perked up from behind his book to listen in on your conversation.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I beg your pardon?” you snapped at him.

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You.?” he annunciated every word archly, like you were a small child.

Remus stepped in like a parent, “James don’t talk to her like that,”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong with her attitude,”

“There’s nothing wrong,”

“You know what, fuck you, I don’t even care,” he turned around to put his parchment down.

“Yeah, you never do,” you got up to leave when James grabbed your wrist.

“You’re just fucking mad that no one cares about you like I care about Lily,” this brought the rest of the people in the room to the conversation.

“James!” Peter and Remus shouted at him simultaneously. Peter was always on your side, he had grown up with you, Marlene, and James as kids. And he knows about your crush on James.

“James, what the hell?” Even Sirius was shocked he could say such a thing to you.

Your expression hardened as you tried to hold in tears, you pulled your hand away from him and mustered up as much strength as you could to speak back to him, you looked at him with glassed over eyes, “Fuck you, James, I never want to see you again.”

You ran out of their dorm, Remus and Peter in tow, and into your dorm, slamming the door in their faces.

Falling flat on the bed, face first, screaming into your pillow, you wanted to die. Actually. This was actually the end of your life because there was no coming back from this.

Soft knocks on the door pulled you from your trance. You stood up and opened the door meeting Lily’s soft face, “Are you alright, I could hear you screaming from outside?”

You wanted to throat punch her.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just stressed,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, 100%,”

“Okay. Well Mary, Marlene, and I are going down to the greenhouse if you’d like to join?”

“I think I’m going to stay… and study,”

“Alright, well we’ll see you later then,” Lily left the dorm doorway with a smile and you went back to you bed and flopped down. Does she have to be so perfect?

You were never getting over this.

Back in the Marauders dorm, James was being berated by his friends.

“How could you say that to her?”

“James, you’re so fucking dense,”

“Do you ever think before you speak?”

“You’re an actual idiot, genuinely,”

“You clearly need time to think, so we’ll give you some time alone to reflect on your relationship with her,” Remus and Sirius stormed out, Peter following.

At the doorway he hesitated and turned to James sitting slumped on his bed, “James, have you ever thought you’re not in love with Lily and she’s just a distraction for you?”

A distraction? What? From what? From who?

Peter left shortly after sticking James with the question of a life time. Was he talking about you?

It didn’t matter. He loves Lily. Right?

The next day he expected everything to go back to normal, you would be back by his side and his friends would be alright. Except this wasn’t the case. His friends were still wary of him and you were no where to be found.

At breakfast his friends only talked about school work and he noticed you weren’t at the table with them. He had also noticed that Marlene gave him an upturned look every time he looked in her direction. You must’ve told her what happened.

At lunch he noticed you still weren’t in the Great Hall. He hoped you were eating something, he knew how easy it was for you to accidentally skip meals. He left lunch early to look for you after his friends wouldn’t talk to him and he kept getting dirty looks from the rest of the girls at the Gryffindor table.

He took a couple laps around the school until he remembered that you loved the library and you had to be there! When he got there he beelined for the spot you and him always shared and as he approached he heard hushed voices and giggles.

He peeked around the corner of a bookshelf and saw you sitting way too close to Evan Rosier.

What the fuck were you doing with Rosier? How do you even know Rosier? Why are you talking to him? Since when did you even become friends?

Evan was one of your closest friend’s twin brother, you’d grown up next to Pandora and Evan just as you had with James, Peter, and Marlene.

You were quite well-known in the wizarding world because of your parents' social lives; always throwing lavish parties and social events.

Evan had been a confidante of yours for a couple of years now, especially since the two of you exchanged advice and stories about the guys you’ve been pining over for years.

But what were you doing with him, of course? Debriefing.

James suddenly felt like he was going to throw up everywhere. How dare you fucking bring Evan fucking Rosier to your spot.

He stormed out of the library and into his next class. He couldn’t even focus on transfiguration. Everything he touched just blew up, which was quite the parallel to his social life.

At dinner he noticed that you still weren’t at the table. There was no way you were going to skip all three meals just because you were avoiding him. That’s when he saw you across the Great Hall sitting at the Slytherin table, in between Rosier and Crouch, laughing at something that probably wasn’t even that funny.

His appetite was suddenly gone. Not to mention he was getting looks from almost everyone at the Gryffindor table. Alice Fortescue, Marlene, Mary, and even Lily were all avoiding his pleading gazes.

Emmeline Vance, Dorcas Meadows, and Emma Vanity would occasionally catch his attention with their hard and disgusted stares.

Fuck. How many people had you told about what happened?

Tomorrow will be better. Everyone is just tense today.

Tomorrow was not in fact better. It was quite possible that it was almost worse than before.

James felt alone. If you were still here with him, he would wrap himself in your arms and cry into your shoulder. But you weren’t here because he pushed you away, quite harshly he may add.

In the morning you sat with the Slytherins, at lunch you sat with the Slytherins, and at dinner you sat with the Slytherins. You may as well be one by now.

The next day came and everything was the same, except for the fact that his friends were a little more talkative. But he didn’t have you.

You were gone, Lily wouldn’t even look at him, which at this point he didn’t even care. He just wants you back.

On the third day of losing you, you still weren’t around and it was really affecting James. You’ve never gone this long without something as simple as a check-in.

He thinks by now all of Hogwarts has known what he had said to you and for the past two nights he’s laid awake thinking about it, wishing he could take it back.

You hadn’t really told anyone except Dorcas, Pandora, and Evan. Dorcas told Marlene, Marlene told Mary, Lily, and Alice. Pandora told Barty who told Regulus and Mulciber. Regulus told Emmaline and Emma. And from there it spread like wildfire.

A week passed and you got closer to the Slytherins and he increasingly got worse. He lost the quidditch game to Ravenclaw. He failed his Defense Against the Dark Arts paper. And most of all, he was losing it, snapping at everyone and constantly drunk or high.

His friends cornered him in his dorm one afternoon, “Have you thought maybe you’re like this because you love her?”

“Of course I bloody love her! I fucking messed up,”

Merlin. He’s had so much time to think about you and he realized that Peter was right. Lily was just a distraction from you.

He hated how long it took him to figure out his feelings for you. You were just perfect in his eyes — your hair, your teeth, your eyes, your smile, your kindness, your humor, he wanted every single part of you and he irrevocably fucked it up.

“Talk to her, that’s the best you can do.”

He found you in the library, alone this time. Calling your name hesitantly, you looked up from your book with an arched brow.

“Can we talk?”

”No,” you said archly. James was taken aback, not expecting you to say that. You packed your things and James watched as you left the library. What the fuck just happened?

He stormed back into his dorm where the group had added Marlene to the mix. James came in and slammed the door.

“I take it the talk went well,” Marlene added sarcastically.

“Fuck off, Mckinnon,” Marlene hated that. Standing from her place next to Sirius’s bed she walked towards James aggressively.

“No, fuck you, Potter. Dorcas told me what you said. Dorcas! Not even my own best friend told me what happened, I had to hear it from my girlfriend!”

“Ok,”

“You’re so fucking dense it’s actually painful,”

“Please can you just help me talk to her,”

“Go to our dorm, she’s in there, I’ll stand at the door to keep her in,”

“Thank you, Marlene, I’m so serious, I owe you big for this one,”

“Yeah, okay, just go fix it, you’re getting really horrible to be around.”

James raced to your dorm and knocked on the door, which was the mistake. He knew you weren’t going to answer. He opened the door, seeing you laying on your bed with a book.

“We’re talking. Right now,” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes.

“Please, please hear me out,”

“James-“

“No, please,” you let out a breath and nodded your head at him, curtly, egging him to go on.

“I cannot even express how horrible I feel for shouting at you and saying some horrid things. I want you back more than ever, I love you so much and I am so fucking daft for not seeing it sooner,” your gaze softened but you were still skeptical.

“Listen, what you said isn’t what totally bothered me, it was the way you said it. James, I have stood by your side for years while you pinned over Lily, and when you said that I wished I had someone to love me like that, I was hoping it would be you,”

“And it is me, I love you, so much, and I can’t even comprehend my love for you because it’s absolutely wild,”

“How can I even trust what you’re saying right now? How can I know everything isn’t going to revert back to the way it was?”

He moved closer to your bed, his knees against the mattress, standing above you.

"Because I promise to give you everything in my entire being. I want to give you my all - my heart, my mind, my soul,” he sat beside you, taking your face in his hand, brushing away stray hair with his other hand.

“I want you James, but I can’t trust you anymore,”

“We can build on it,” you want him so bad. You need him so bad.

“Do you promise?”

“I swear on my life.”

You lean in and softly press your lips to his. Your lips move rhythmically against his, as if they were meant to be together.

The kiss was more than electric, it was as if everything in the world went silent and the stars had aligned in your favor. The short time you were together you felt a need and an urgency to be with him.

There was nothing you loved more in the world than James Potter.

#james potter is perfect #james potter x reader #james potter #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew #peter is actually an amazing friend #dorcas x marlene #marlene mckinnon #sirius black x reader #sirius black #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #regulus and evan and barty #regulus black #lily evans #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era #lacy by olivia rodrigo #lacy olivia rodrigo #x reader #dorcas meadowes #hogwarts #james potter is a himbo #james being mean lowk #pining #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers

[scarlethexelove]

Hii, can you write Jock! Intersex!Carol x virgin (and innocent about sex) reader where they are dating but reader is stressed to do it with Carol because of Carol's past reputation on campus, so the reader thinks that she will be directly rought but when Carol starts touching reader to initiate sex, reader told Carol that she's virgin, and Carol becomes soft and take her time with the reader to not hurt her too much, even if the reader will feel pain during the first penetration (including Carol who doesn't want to wear condoms so reader asks her why and Carol says that she hates it and that condoms kill the feeling of the walls, unprotected sex, breeding, Carol calls reader babygirl/princess )

I'm Ready

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 2752

Warnings: Intersex!Carol, Smut, P in V, Virgin!Reader, Fingering, Oral, Breeding, Soft!Carol, Little bit of degradation, Little bit of a Daddy kink (Said once)

A/n: I'm so sorry I didn't add much of the Jock part but it is mentioned a little. My brain is mush and I'm having a hard time thinking of what warnings there are. Please if I forgot something really important let me know. Hope you like it and sorry it has taken me a bit to get to this. I have been so busy and then got sick.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You turn to walk backwards behind in front of your best friend Wanda. “I think I’m ready.” You tell Wanda her face is puzzled at your words. “Ready for what?” She asks you. You slightly blush at the thought. “I want to have sex with Carol.” You say just above a whisper. “You want to have sex!” Wanda says loudly. “Wanda.” You whine with how loud she was. You look around to see people looking at you making you look down in shame. “I’m sorry Y/n/n. I was just shocked. Are you sure?” She says softly and you nod. Both of you stop walking to talk. “I’m ready. I want it to be with Carol… I think I love her.” You say shyly. 

Wanda can’t help but slap your shoulder excited. “You love her? Oh my god. I’m so excited for you.” Her words make you smile. “Thanks Wanda.” You hug her before pulling back, keeping your arms around her. “You know I will admit that I was hesitant on you dating Carol because of her reputation but I have seen the change in her and in you.” Wanda smiles, hugging you again. 

“You can invite Natty over tonight. I’ll be at Carol’s tonight.” You wink at Wanda. She shoves you as she starts to walk away. “Just don’t have sex in my bed.” You laughed and Wanda winked which caused both of you to burst out laughing. 

You find yourself sitting on Carol’s couch cuddled into her side as you two watch a movie. You keep sneaking glances at Carol which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She can’t help but smirk. The next time your head turns to look at her she is already looking right at you. Taking your breath away as the light from the tv illuminates her face. “Do I have something on my face baby girl?” She smirks knowingly at you. “N-no.” You mumbler looking down. Your nerves are eating away at you. A finger slips under your chin, bringing you to look back up into her brown eyes. She leans in kissing you soft and slow. 

It takes no time as the kiss deepens and you both become more desperate for each other. You shift your body over into Carol’s lap as her hands grip your hips and your arms wrap around her neck. Her tongue exploring your mouth and a small moan being swallowed by Carol. You can feel her length hardening under you pressing up against your core. When your lungs start to burn you both pull away. Carol starts to kiss down your neck. You’re panting above her as her fingers dig into your hips, grinding up into you. “C-Carol.” You try to get her attention. She keeps kissing and leaving dark reddish purple marks on your neck. “Carol, w-wait.” You mumble out again, but all she does is hum against your neck. “Stop.” You finally manage to say. Carol immediately pulls back looking at you concerned.

“Is everything ok princess?” Carol asks you concerned, her hands cupping your cheeks as she looks at you. “I-I’ve never.” You mumble. “You’ve never what?” Carol questions not quite following along. “I’m a virgin.” You whisper looking down ashamed. It’s silent for a moment. “Y/n/n.” Carol says softly, but you don’t respond. “Princess please look at me.” Your eyes finally drifting back up to your girlfriend's face. Her smile is soft as she looks at you. “Do you want to stop?” She asks you which has you shaking your head. “I want to do this.” She smiles at you. “Are you sure?” Carol questions again not wanting to push you. “Yes.” You nod your head. 

Carol picks you up which causes you to squeak, wrapping your legs around her waist and your arms tightly around her neck. She carries you to her bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed. For someone so experienced and larger than you you expect her to be a bit more rough and uncaring. But she is a total contrast to every word you have ever heard about Carol from other girls' mouths. Always the big jock on campus who could pull any girl she wanted. She is a badass on and off the court. But you have seen a different side than the rumors. Carol is sweet and caring, she has never pressured you for anything. You’ve been together for 3 months now and she hasn’t once asked for sex when you know with others that is all she wanted. 

Carol leans back on her calves as she looks down at you sprawled out on her bed. She pulls her shirt over her head leaving her just her sports bra on. She reveals her beautiful sculpted abs and toned arms. You’re pretty sure you're drooling just looking at her.  She gives you a wink which makes you blush before she is shuffling her basketball shorts off. Her toned thighs are only covered now by the boxers she is wearing, her large bulge confined by the fabric. 

Carol leans down kissing you softly just hovering over you. “If at any time you want to stop, just tell me okay?” You nod your head in understanding. “Baby girl, I need your words.” Carol smiles reassuringly at you. “Yes I understand.” She smiles, pecking your lips. Carol’s hands move to the hem of your shirt and stop looking at you for permission. You nod with a small yes. You sit up helping her with taking your shirt off. Soon your bra follows being thrown somewhere in the room to be found later. You help Carol to finish stripping your clothes leaving you completely naked. You try to cover your body but Carol pulls your hands away. “You’re so beautiful princess, don't hide from me.”

You pull Carol down kissing her which she gladly accepts. She pulls away starting to kiss down your neck nipping and sucking as she travels down. Your breathing picks up the further she kisses down your body. Soft kisses trailing down your stomach down to your thighs. Settling herself there as she looks up at you with a lustful look in her eyes. Your breath hitching as you look at her nestled between your thighs. 

A breath of hot air hits your wet folds as Carol releases a breath sending a shiver up your spine. Your naked body in front of her for the taking. The desire to take and claim you running through her mind. But she holds back only caring for your comfort. Your first time should be special and she wanted to make it the best. She knows she loves you but it does scare her because she has never felt like this for anyone. She only sleeps around and not falls in love but you caught her heart and she wanted nothing but the best for you. 

Carol licks a strip through your folds moaning at your taste. You gasp at the new feeling, so different but so good. She circles her tongue around your clit before wrapping her lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. She sucks harshly which causes you to moan, your hand flying to her hair and lacing your fingers through her hair. You can feel her smirk against you as she continues to work over your clit. 

Breathy moans escaping your lips as Carol continues to lick and suck. One of her hands trailing up your body as she cups your breast and tweaks your nipple. Her other hand moving between your legs. Your wetness coating her finger as she teases your entrance. She slowly probes her finger at your entrance before slowly pushing one in. Your gasping as your grip on her hair tightens. She slowly pumps it in and out. Working on stretching you out to take her cock, not wanting to hurt you. She slowly adds a second finger, the stretch foreign with very little sting. “Mmm.” A tight grip on her hair as she lets you get used to the feeling. 

You have never felt like this before the pleasure building in your lower stomach as Carol brings you closer to the edge. Her tongue working your bundle of nerves and her fingers thrusting in and out of you, her fingers curling up and pressing into the sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans filling the room as Carol laps at your cunt. “Please.” You whimper as you feel so close to the edge. “I-I think I need to. Mmm fuck.” Your walls clamp down on Carol's fingers as she lightly scissors them inside of you. “A-Ahhh.” The extra stretch is slightly painful but still building you towards your high. “Cum baby girl.” Carol moans against your core, sending you over the edge. Your back arching as your thighs clamp around her head and your fingers tighten their grip. The sting in her scalp caused her to moan. Your cum coating her lower face as she laps at your folds. 

Carol works you through your high her tongue lapping at all the cum you could give her. As she slows down you come back to your senses, your chest heaving. “You did so good princess.” Carol smiles as she pulls back. Your juices coating the lower half of her face which has you blushing. You cover your face with your hands. You feel the bed shift before your hands are pulled from your face. She smiles, leaning down and kissing you roughly. You moan into her mouth when you taste yourself on her lips. This kiss is much more desperate, almost needy. You can feel her hardened length still in their confines pressing against your core. 

A whine escapes your lips the longer you feel Carol’s length pressed against you. “Please.” You mumble against her lips. She pulls back looking you in the eye as she hovers over your body. She smiles at you leaning back as she pulls her sports bra and boxers off her cock springing free as she kicks them off her feet. You lick your lips when you see her cock springs free. She leans back over you and kisses you gently leaning her head against yours. “Baby girl it’s going to hurt at first but it will feel good eventually. If it becomes too much, tell me and we will stop.” She tells you gently her length rubbing through your drenched folds. “I’m ready.” You nod.

Carol lines her length up with your entrance, the head catching lightly as she coats it in your juices. “Carol, what about a condom?” You question as she slowly pushes the head in. You grunt and hold onto her shoulders the sting and fullness just from that little bit already overwhelming. She shakes her head. “It takes away from the feeling. I hate them.” She pushes in more. “F-fuck you feel so good.” You dig your nails into the skin of her shoulders the more she pushes in. “I’ll pull out, I promise princess.” Carol says which has you nodding a tear slipping down your cheek from the painful stretch. 

You can feel the head of Carol’s cock on every ridge of your walls. Her cock slowly fills you full until she has sheathed herself inside of you. As a few tears fall she wipes them gently from your cheeks and kisses you softly, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to move. Your stretched walls feeling every vein and ridge of her cock. The pain slowly dissipates to something more manageable. You wrap your legs around Carol’s hips and grind lightly gasping at the feeling. Carol smirks slowly pulling back before lightly thrusting back in. She keeps a slow pace, her walls still stretching around her cock. 

Small moans fall from your lips as your walls get used to the feeling of being stretched. Carol snaps her hips a little too hard when she thrust which has you whimpering. “Sorry baby girl, so sorry.” She moans. “You just feel so good. So fucking tight.” All you can manage is a nod, words hard to form. Carol slowly builds her thrust up to a nice steady pace. The pain melts into pleasure. 

“Fuck so good for me. This pussy was made for me princess. Wraps around me so perfectly.” Carol grunts the gentle slapping of her hips against yours. Your hips bucking on their own accord the new found pleasure intoxicating to you. “S-so good.” Carol’s head pressed against yours as she continued thrusting. Her eyes fixed on yours watching your face morphing into one of pleasure. Your hands slipping to her back and digging your nails in. She moans at the sting as her hips speed up more. There is still pain mixed with pleasure as she pounds into you. A new feeling you never want to stop. 

Both of your orgasms are building. Carol angles her hips to where the head of her cock brushes against that spot deep inside of you, having you moaning loudly, closing your eyes and dragging your nails down her back. “O-ohhhh.” Your back arching closer as you feel Carol’s chest against yours. Your hurtling towards your second orgasm as your walls flutter around Carol’s length. “Fuck princess your squeezing me so good.” Carol pants above you, her cock twitching as she gets close.

“I’m going to fill this pussy so good. Fucking fill you so full of my seed. Maybe just get your pregnant so you're mine forever.” Carol grunts with every thrust. Your mind turns to mush as you nod along to the words falling from her lips. “Please Daddy.” Your nails are digging deeper into her back, drawing some blood. Not even noticing the words that slip from your mouth. Carol smirks her hips rutting into yours. 

Carol’s hand slips between your bodies reaching your clit and pressing her finger into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. With the added pressure on your clit you're so close. “Please s-so close.” You whine desperate to cum again. Carol is right there with you. “Cum with me princess.” Carol moans as she thrust a few more times before her hips stutter. Your walls squeezing her length so tight as you cum. Your nails scratching more at her back, your back arching impossibly closer to her. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body trembles below her. Carol feeling you cum follows not that far behind you filling you full as her hips twitch. 

You're both panting as you both come down from your high. Your eyes open to see Carol’s wide slightly panicked eyes. Your eyes widening when you realize why her eyes are so wide as you feel her cum dribbling out around her cock. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n. I got carried away a-and you felt so good.” Deep down she actually hoped that maybe you would get pregnant from this but knows that you might not be ready for that. You're quiet for a moment processing what just happened. “I-it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You try to reassure her still being panicked since you aren’t on any birth control. 

Carol pulls out of you slowly as you wince feeling a bit sore. “Sorry princess.” Carol says seeing you wince in pain. She gets up quickly going to the bathroom and getting a washcloth to clean you both off. She comes back before gently cleaning you up before she wipes herself off. She throws the washcloth on the floor to clean up later before crawling into bed. You instantly move to curl up into her side, laying your head on her chest. She wraps her arms around you tightly. 

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Carol breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. You look up at her with your chin on her chest and a small smile on your face. “It’s okay. It felt really good actually.” You blush, hiding your face in her chest which makes her laugh. “I love you.” Carol chuckles until she realizes what she said. You lift your head to look up at her with a smile on your face. “I love you too Carol.” You lean up to kiss her, both of you smiling into the kiss. You pull back, settling back into her arms as you draw patterns on her chest. Both of you are happy to be in each other's arms and in love.

#carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #carol danvers smut #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader smut #carol danvers x fem!reader #carol danvers x female reader #new fic #fic request

[paddockbunny]

List B + [Necklace]+ Fernando Alonso

“I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck not because he owns me but cuz he really knows me, which is more than they can say”

The Present

Summary : You thought you would have to spend your special day alone. So when your boyfriend surprises you more than once, you have to show him how much it means to you. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Fernando Alonso x Reader Word Count : 2,221 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, PinV sex, unprotected sex, implied age gap but not explicitly stated Images : curated from Pintrest

List : List B. Prompt : Necklace - sender fastens a necklace around receiver’s neck, leaning in close to do so.

You had spent the whole day out doing things to avoid the fact you were spending your birthday alone. Fernando’s flight had been cancelled so he hadn’t been able to get home this morning like the pair of you expected. The next flight home hadn’t been until this afternoon either which meant he wouldn’t be home for another 12 hours yet.

You poured yourself a glass of your favourite wine and decided to go run a bath. If you were going to be home alone on what was supposed to be your special day, then you were at least going to have a nice relaxing time doing things you loved. After turning on the faucet, sprinkling in some soothing bath salts and lavender scented bubble bath you let the water run so the temperature of the water was nice at hot. While the roll top bath (the very one Fernando had actually installed for you on your last birthday as a surprise) began to slowly fill you went back through to fetch a fresh silk chemise from the drawer in the bedroom. You never wore anything to bed, not usually. There wasn’t much point when sleeping beside Fernando. Other than the fact the pair of you had sex like teenagers, he tended to run hot so cuddling into him was like holding on to a furnace. Tonight however, as you were solo, you decided to fling something on to feel a little special.

While rubbing your coconut scented body lotion into your calves you phone pinged on the marble counter top. The screen illuminated with Fernando’s name and you grabbed it quickly.

Good news, should arrive home earlier than planned. I’m sorry it’s still a day late corazón x

Ok, mi amor. Just hurry home x

I promise I will make it up to you x

Just being here will be enough x

You ached to feel Fernando’s arms around you. You longed to feel his hands on your skin or running through your hair. You desperately yearned to have him here kissing you because nobody kissed as good as Fernando did.

Grabbing your phone and your nearly empty glass of wine you padded from the bathroom, through the bedroom and out down the stairs to go refill your glass. You had the whole evening to kill and no idea on how to do it. But wine was a very good start at least. You turned down the corridor and toward the kitchen but something caught your eye. Fernando’s car was sitting in the driveway.“Surprise!”

A scream loud enough to wake the dead left your body but the sudden shock and alarm was immediately replaced by utter excitement and sheer happiness. “Corazón….” Fernando’s arms went around you tightly as you practically leapt into them. “How did you get here?” You asked when it dawned on you that he had to have already landed at the airport when he was texting you after you got out of the bath. He knew all along he was going to come surprise you. “Max.” Of course. The champion has a jet. It was very kind of him to offer the boyfriend you were tightly holding on to a lift home so he could make it home in time. Which, as he pulled back and gently caressed your cheek he wished you a happy birthday before placing his lips to yours tenderly. Fuelled by genuine shock, pure happiness and a little bit of lust your hands pushed through his hair and hungrily leaned into the kiss. Fernando took your hint and you felt his grip on your sides tighten. You groaned straight into his mouth when his tongue danced along yours. “Wait…wait…” Fernando stopped you, halted your actions when your hand travelled down toward his jeans. “Don’t you want your present?” “That IS my present.” You glanced down to where you were heading before he stopped you. The action o only made him laugh as his hands left your body and he turned to go to his bag. Watching him you wondered what he could have possibly brought you back from a race weekend. The thought of some silly little gift from the airport passed through your brain before wondering if it was going to be more of a gaffe gift and he was going to give you some Aston Martin merch. But your eyes couldn’t help but widen when you saw the distinct shape of a jewellery box.

Fernando turned and apologised for having not wrapped your gift but as he held it out for you to take you couldn’t care less if it were covered in some pointless paper. You took the black velvet from his hands and into your own as is eyes remained on yours. His smile broadened and he encouraged you to open the lid to your gift. Excitement buzzed throughout your body but you controlled it long enough to slowly push up the lid on the square box. And you had to try even harder to control it once you finally saw exactly what was inside.

“Fer” The diamonds shone bright in the darkness of the room. A single row of stunning multi cut diamonds set in silver. It was the most exquisite thing you had ever seen and nowhere near what he should have been spending on you but he loved spoiling you. Words failed to come to your head. You couldn’t think of a single way to say thank-you for a gift that took your breath away even though you tried. Your fingers ghosted across the ice like gems.

“Let me put it on you.” He took the box, lifted the line of diamonds from its home and motioned for you to turn around so he could place them upon your neck. You did as Fernando wished. You turned, lifting your hair out of the way for him as you did so. The precious stones delicately slid across your skin as they were placed upon your neck. Fernando’s hot breath caressed the sensitive flesh behind your ear as he clipped the clasp in place. Your throat tightened as a lump formed in it. You felt rather emotional knowing such a work of art now belonged to you. Then you felt Fernando’s lips press against your bare shoulder and you realised how you could thank him.

You turned, hands going back to his shoulders, as you looked into his eyes. God, how you loved Fernando’s eyes. They were the colour of freshly brewed coffee and the way the soft glowing light hit them they practically shone. Eyes locked together, you stepped backward away from him. One step, two, three, enough so that he could see all of you as you pulled down the straps of your chemise. It met no resistance as it fell straight down to the floor and pooled at your feet. Fernando broke eye contact to slowly cast his gaze upon your naked body before him. “Make love to me in them, Fer”

Fernando didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds of your request he had you in his arms and his mouth upon yours. His kiss was feverish and hungry. Triple headers were tough on your man but they were equally as tough on you. You craved him and you knew how badly he craved you. The second Fernando tugged on your hair and your body crumpled against him you felt just how badly he needed you. So it was no surprise when his hands trailed down your sides, down your butt and to your thighs. He lifted you up, clean off the floor, and pulled both your legs around his waist in a display of pure strength. What was even more impressive was how he effortlessly carried you upstairs to your bedroom without even breaking the feverish kiss the pair of you were locked in.

When you were finally there, Fernando let go of you and dumped you straight on to the bed behind you, just like he had done so many times before. The small delighted squeal that left your lips only served to encourage him. He pulled off his dark green team polo and chucked it away from himself. His tanned skin looked like caramel and you so desperately wanted a taste. You sat up and reached your hands out to help him remove the dark trousers but he playfully swatted your hands away. “You never let me remove yours” He mockingly scoffed but you knew he was only trying to be mischievous. Fernando rid himself of the remainder of his clothing promptly. There wasn’t any time for patience. Not now. Not when you were naked before him and growing increasingly more and more hungry by the second. You laid back and pulled your legs up slightly and let them fall apart. You knew how much Fernando loved seeing how wet you got for him. He loved seeing your slick wet folds awaiting him. And he was cocky about the fact he did’t even need to touch you, you were always so wet for him. He made a guttural moan when he saw you eagerly awaiting him. And you practically mimicked it right back when he was finally free and you saw how hard he was for you.

Fernando’s hands made their way up your legs as he crawled on top of your body. His lips colliding with different parts of your skin as he went. He kissed your hip softly, ghosted his tongue up your stomach, enveloped the soft peak of your nipple in his mouth as you arched your back in delight. “These diamonds are beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.” He tells you lazily as he settles between your thighs. You didn’t have time to answer him. He ran himself up and down your folds before he finally gave you what you wanted most, himself.

Fernando buried himself inside you. Every beautiful thrust was more powerful than the last and you never failed to adore the delicious fullness you felt while he fucked you. But tonight he wasn’t fucking you. No tonight he was taking his time. Every roll of his hips was deliberate. He made sure to make you feel his love and how much he adored you. Your fingers wound through his dark hair and you brought his full lips to yours. Moaning straight into them as he angled himself just right. Hitting the sweet spot inside you repeatedly. His name fell from your lips as your own collided as it flowed from him.

You were close to the edge. Dangerously close to tipping straight into the land of pure pleasure. Fernando always took you there. He knew every single sign that you were ready for the high and used it to his advantage. He spoke words into your ear; “I love you”, “let go for me”, “I can feel how close you are”

And he wasn’t wrong. Only moments later Fernando took you there. You felt like you were flying you were that euphoric. The orgasm was deep, powerful. It was almost as if your body was exploding for him. Fernando kept his pace up as you tightened and pulsed around him. His body practically begged yours to release him. His breathy, low, mumbled moans gave away how close he was himself. You clutched on to his strong muscular shoulders as finally, you felt him come undone inside of you.

You stayed connected, entwined even after he pulled out and rolled off to the bed beside you. His hand splayed over your stomach first before working up to rest on your chest. Watching him you realised he was staring at the gift he had given you. The one that led you here, to bed, in a orgasmic basked high

“What are you thinking?” You asked plainly before smoothing out his hair. God you loved his hair. It was so full and soft. It felt like silk under your fingertips. But you loved how little strands had begun to lighten, turn grey. It always reminded you of how safe you felt with him. He was a man, a real man, who loved nothing more than taking care of you. You were nearly lost in the thought of how much you loved being in love with Fernando when he finally admitted what was on his mind. “What you will let me do to you if I buy you the matching earrings.” His words made you laugh. They couldn’t not. The juxtaposition between you lying half in his arms thinking about how much you were in love with him and him hungry for more, still thinking about sex with you, pretty much summed the pair of you up. It was why you worked.

“Well, I haven’t thanked you yet for managing to get home today and surprising me.” You ran your fingertip along the diamonds that sat upon your neck so delicately before pushing him backward so he was flat on the mattress. He laughed smugly as his hands ran up and down your thighs after you straddled him. He had made love to you. But now, you were going to fuck him, exactly how he liked.

#Fernando Alonso #fernando alonso imagine #Fernando Alonso fanfic #Fernando Alonso one shot #Fernando Alonso x reader #Fernando Alonso x you #Fernando Alonso x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfiction

[bonkhrnyjail]

sweet plum | chapter six

masterlist | pinterest | spotify playlist

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

summary: the last of us wrap party is tonight, and the tension between you and pedro can no longer be ignored…

rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)

warnings: alcohol consumption, mild sexual content

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR THE LOVE ON CHAPTER FIVE omg. i’m kicking myself for not posting this fic on tumblr sooner! pls enjoy chapter six and feel free to not analyze what our lovely reader’s actions might say about me as an author or my relationship to conflict <3 love y’all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’ve been avoiding Pedro like the fucking plague.

Sixty missed calls. Even twenty texts, and off the top of your head you can't remember the last time he actually texted you. The calls became less frequent as the weeks passed, but he still tries at least once every day. You silence them every time.

The day you kissed him, he tried to call you ten times in a row, unbeknownst to you. You had thrown your phone across the living room the second you made it through the door and laid completely catatonic on your bed until your roommate got home.

“Babe, you’ll never guess who I saw last night— Are you good?” she inquired nonchalantly as she entered your room to find you face down in your mound of stuffed animals.

Droplets began to prickle the corners of your eyes as you let out a muffled groan in response. Your mouth wasn’t capable of words, the fat, dry lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding, forcing you to clench your teeth around nothing. A hand landed softly on your shoulder.

“Woah, hey,” she started to rub your arm up and down as a full body sob rippled through you. "Talk to me."

You looked up at her, tears rolling fast and hot down the apples of your cheeks, and threw yourself into her chest.

“I- I- I did something st-stupid,” you managed between sobs. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure you gently, smoothing down your hair. “Unless you accidentally shaved some of Pedro’s hair off or something. I’m sure he’d forgive you anyways, though.”

You tried to form words against the sobs clawing their way out of your chest.

“Bad, Abby. Like, r-really bad.”

“Well shit. What’s the damage?” she spoke somewhat brashly, which was nothing new when it came to her attempts at being gentle. “Do I have to kill somebody? ‘Cause I will, I've been playing a lot of first person shooter, I can handle it.”

Laughter overtook your cries, although whatever sounds were coming from your throat were a horrifying mixture of both. Abby chuckled at the sound. You continued like that for a while, laughing and crying and laughing again, until the tears finally stopped.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she blurted as a soberness enveloped her tone. “I’m sure I can come up with a solution. You know I’m crafty.”

“Do you know how to erase memories?” you mumbled as you sat up straight. “That’s the only solution I can think of.”

“No… but I own a bat. Blunt force trauma is a pretty surefire solution.”

“Jesus… not to Pedro.”

“Did you, like, shit yourself or something?” she blundered, immediately biting down on her lip after the words left her mouth. “Sorry, no, this is serious. Serious time.”

You let out a gargantuan sigh as you stared fervently into your lap.

“... I kissed him.”

“You WHAT?” she grabbed your shoulders and shook you aggressively. “YOU WHAT?!”

“I—”

“WHAT? HOW? WHEN?” she shrieked, piercing the hell out of your eardrums.

“I kissed him, on the lips, on the doorstep.” 

“ON THE DOORSTEP?!” she flailed her arms, slapping your shoulders in the process. “AND I MISSED IT?!”

“You’re hurting me.”

“WAS IT GOOD? IS HE A GOOD KISSER?”

“Can we use our inside voices?”

“FUCK— ok, sorry,” she mellowed, blowing air through raspberried lips. “Why are you so upset? I thought you wanted this to happen!”

“I... I did. And didn’t. It’s complicated,” you babbled through your frustration. “I just… kissed him. I didn’t think, or ask, and I can’t take it back.”

“Well, did he kiss you back?”

“Uh… I...” you muttered hesitantly. "I think so."

Abby sprung from your bed, squealing and dancing as her fists punched awkwardly into the air. The sight alone made you cackle.

“OK- so, what happened after that? Did he confess his love to you?” 

“Jesus christ… no, that’s not what happened,” you groaned. “I sorta... ran away.”

“You WHAT?!”

“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” you whined. “I didn’t know what to do, I only realized what I had done after I had done it and I fuckin' panicked. He tried to grab my hand but I ran inside as fast as I could.”

“Dude, you have got to be kidding me,” her tone went flat, eyes laced with disappointment. “Where's your phone?”

“I don’t know, I threw it across the living room when I got up here. I was kinda freaking out.”

Abby immediately jumped off of the bed and started toward the door to your room, despite your insistent pleas to leave it be. She came storming back inside moments later.

“10 missed calls. 10 MISSED CALLS,” she pointed aggressively to your lock screen displaying the missed notifications. “Look, he even texted you.”

You snatched the phone out of her hand, shoving it under your pillow. “I can’t… I can’t right now.”

“If he didn’t want this, he wouldn’t call you that many times, and he definitely wouldn't have kissed you back," she trailed off for a moment, some sort of realization sparking behind her eyes. "Wait, did he get you those flowers on the kitchen counter?”

“I- yes. Just because I helped him out today last minute.”

“No, not because you helped him out last minute. Flowers from a man mean one of three things. Number one, congrats. Number two, condolences. And number three, please have sex with me.”

“Jesus,” you giggled. “And what does it mean if he brought me a coffee too?”

“Your usual?”

“...Yes.”

“Please have sex with me and be my wife forever and ever.”

You rolled your eyes and flopped back into your pillows, covering your face with your hands and groaning. Abby sat with you for a while, but eventually gave up, knowing damn well that you're to stubborn and you'd make your own decisions regarding the whole situation. She knew she never stood a chance to change your mind anyways.

The days passed, slowly at first, but eventually you found your way back to a steady rhythm. You went to work, saw your friends, read a lot, and spent practically zero time on your phone. Impressive how avoidance managed to cure your social media addiction. 

You'd pushed it out of your head that you’d have to see Pedro in a few weeks. Then the weeks turned to a week, then to a few days, then to a day.

You woke up this morning and it all came crashing down.

The wrap party is tonight. Then the premiere tomorrow. Everyone is going. You couldn’t get away with skipping it if you tried. Bella would probably storm into your apartment and drag you out by the hair.

You haven’t even told Bella about the kiss.

You end up lying in bed for hours, watching video after video on Youtube to silence your racing thoughts. You had set an alarm on your phone earlier to remind you when to start getting ready, and it frightens the hell out of you, jolting you from a groggy haze of half-sleep. You curse under your breath and roll lazily onto your feet, your blankets crumpling to a pathetic-looking pile on the floor. 

You power up your speaker and choose some music, an upbeat and catchy playlist to try and redirect your energy. The upside in all of this is that you can get all dolled up. It gives you an excuse for extensive self-pampering and wearing outfits that mostly collect dust in your closet. 

An everything shower is an understatement of what you have planned. You have your products lined up, various scrubs, masks, body washes, etc, and a fresh razor sitting right beside them. You crank the faucet on, just a hair below the boiling point, and step into the tub.

The steam coats your lungs as you inhale deep, the sudden sensation of the water colliding with your skin sending a stark chill down your body. As you close your eyes, leaning your head back and letting your hair fall into the steady stream, your focus slips to a corner of your mind, the pesky corner that you've tried desperately to keep locked away. Because once the thoughts start, it’s damn near impossible to wrangle them back in.

The fantasy is vivid. You can almost feel Pedro’s hands in your hair, massaging shampoo slowly and intentionally from behind you. He’s close, his bare body pressed to your back, his skin hot and pulsing against yours. He leans you back to rinse the product from your hair, pressing a small kiss to your forehead as he squeezes your shoulder softly. 

“Mmmm,” he hums, trailing languid, open-mouth kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “My sweet plum.”

A faint voice in the back of your mind is shouting wildly, trying to stop the scene from playing out in your head, but it's not enough to break through the noise.

He runs his hands down the front of your body, gently tracing your curves and valleys, finger-painting your skin with adoration. Your head falls back into him as his kisses grow deeper, longer, more desperate, him hardening against you as his gentle caresses turn to needy grasps. 

“Let me… please,” you whisper into his ear, snaking your hand behind you and running your palm against the underside of his shaft. His body presses harder into yours as he lets out a soft grunt of approval directly in your ear, the vibration of it surging straight to your core.

A jolt of cold water shocks your body, tearing you from your fantasy. You come to and find yourself leaning against the wall of the shower, your ass having knocked the knob to the coldest setting. 

“Christ,” you mutter under your breath, cranking the control back to where it was and reaching for your overpriced shampoo bottle. 

You go through the motions of the rest of your shower, losing yourself in the music and singing along as you always do. Shower concerts have been your most recent replacement for the therapy that you can't quite afford.

You paint your toes, your leg hoisted up precariously on the counter and torso bent over to reach as your fuzzy robe dangles from your hips. You choose an eggplant purple, matching the accents in your dress. The press-ons that you found are a damn-near perfect match to this color, with a swirling design decorating the tips of the almond shape. 

The dress is more of a dainty feminine than you typically go for. You generally gravitate towards sultry colors and styles, but the cut of this dress instantly drew your attention. A plunging neckline with miniscule gold buttons decorating the front. Beneath the bust, a sheer panel with corset boning outlines the waist, and the remainder of the skirt flows heavily, the hem sitting perfectly at your ankles. It reminds you of a Free People style dress, but in your size. Hallelujah.

With a feel-good playlist booming through your speaker, your makeup goes on quick and easy. A thick, black wing smoked out with a deep purple and a subtle, black cherry sheer lip. Everything else you keep fairly light and natural, letting the boldness of the eye do the talking.

You pull your hair up into a bun, making sure the dress is the center of attention. You leave a few, short pieces out and curl them, creating the sense of a haphazard version of a Victorian era updo. After donning some simple gold jewelry and your Mary Janes, the outfit is complete. You throw on an oversized brown blazer just to keep you warm, but you’ll likely take it off the moment you get to the party.

Your uber arrives moments later, somehow exactly as you descend the stairs outside your building. Your driver, an older man named Mario, gets out and shakes your hand as he introduces himself and his very nice BMW named Maria.

You've never met anyone quite this aggressively Italian.

The good-natured man even asks if you'd like to pick the music for the ride. You choose something that you hope the both of you will like: ABBA.

“This was popular when I was your age!” he gushes, the gravel and rasp in his voice more audible than the actual pitch. 

“ABBA is absolutely timeless,” you chime, adding a few more songs to the queue.

You chat the whole ride there, his jovial presence somehow working away some of the knots of anxiety in your stomach. He asks all about your work, thankfully steering clear of who you work with, and even prodding you for styling tips for his “thick and unruly” curls. 

He pulls up to the entrance, stopping near a hoard of your coworkers from the crew crowded amongst the steps to the double doors. You exchange goodbyes with Mario and slide out of the car into the brisk air, your blazer draped over your shoulders and doing a very ineffective job of retaining any of your body heat. You hear a shriek of joy emerge from the blob of people in front of you, followed by your name in the same cadence. Most of the heads you can see turn to face you, arms reaching out for hugs and smiles as far as you can see. 

You’re going to make this a good night. No matter what.

.   .   .   .   .

It’s significantly warmer inside the venue, so you decided to drop your jacket at the coat check. It’s much more crowded than you expected, but then again, everyone was invited. Some of your friends from makeup even made the trip from New York to be here. Since you’ve never been to one of these before, jokes keep getting thrown around along the lines of “Baby’s first wrap party!" and you losing your wrap party virginity. The group dynamics from the days on set settle right back into a rhythm, your place as the baby of the group still yours for the taking. You don’t mind the coddling, as it seems to help keep your mind off of the inevitable. 

There’s a slurry of waiters dipping and dodging amongst clusters of bodies, hors d'oeuvres and drinks displayed gorgeously on shiny golden platters. Someone’s arm is dragging you towards the open bar across the dance floor, where a herd has already begun to form. A slew of voices and faces pass you by as you travel swiftly through the crowd, and you’re unable to make out anything distinct amongst the clamor.

Until you hear his voice.

That familiar boom of laughter, crisp and thunderous, crystal clear amongst the hundreds of noises up against it. You immediately whip your head around to locate the source, forgetting your hand is in the grips of your friend and nearly snapping her limb off in the process. She lunges forward into you, nearly knocking your hors d’oeuvres plate from your hand and garnering the attention of several people surrounding you.

You somehow stumble back to balance and a very attentive waiter quickly swipes the mostly finished plate from your hands. The swiftness of everything is making you dizzy, sounds and sights swirling in the warm glow of the gorgeous chandelier decorating the space above you. With every turn of your head, the crowd in front of you shifts to blurry outlines of colors and shapes, like ink bleeding from the hard lines where people should begin and end. 

Suddenly you feel arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing your organs to a pulp.

“Who-” you look down to see two small hands with black painted nails. “Is that my Bellie?”

A head pops into your peripheral with a wide, toothy smile. You let out a little shriek as your arms envelop them and squeeze, lifting them off the ground a bit with the sheer force of it.

“I missed you so much—'' you pause, taking in their presence once more. “Look at you! You look amazing!”

“I look amazing?” They toy gently with the skirt of your dress. “You look amazing!”

You embrace once more, the excitement of seeing them in person completely overriding your ability to control the gleeful noises escaping your body. They pull away, your hands still gripping each other’s elbows.

“Have you seen P? I know he’s already here,” they pull their phone out of their back pocket, his location pulled up on Find My Friends. 

“Oh, uh… I— I haven’t yet,” you hear your voice quickly morph into a downbeat tone against your will. 

“Uh oh,” they blurt. “Why is your face doing that? Did something happen?”

“I- uh…” you stumble over a sad attempt at words, muttering unintelligible syllables. “Well—”

Your train of thought comes to a screeching halt as he appears through a sliver in the crowd.

And, god, he looks handsome as ever. A nice, nice white suit clings ever so perfectly to his muscular, statuesque frame. The collar is folded neatly against his strong, thick neck, a few subtle veins protruding softly from his caramel skin. His dimples are on full display as he throws his head back with laughter, the little heart-shaped patch in his beard perfectly prominent. 

Bella follows your gaze until they see him. They call out his name and wave him down on their tiptoes. He immediately clocks the voice, and you watch as the small smile on his face spreads to a wide grin. He excuses himself from his current conversation and starts towards your direction.

Your stomach drops. You quickly survey around you to find that there is no clear escape, there are clusters of people surrounding you on each side and no pockets that you could gracefully slip into to weave your way through the crowd. For better or worse, you’re trapped.

He quickly scoops Bella into a bear hug, his arms enveloping their small frame in it's entirety. He spins them around, their feet dangling, hovering just above the floor. You stand there, frozen, little bunches of your dress clumped up in your tight, fidgeting fists. The fabric rolls between your thumb and forefinger, a haphazard attempt at soothing the anxiety surging through your veins.

It takes him a minute to acknowledge your presence, and with every second that passes, your urge to bolt revs in your belly.

Once his gaze meets yours, a soft, forgiving smile paints across his lips. You force the corners of your mouth upwards, attempting to create what hopefully appears like an expression of joy. Hopefully.

“Hi.”

It comes out more like a sigh when he says it, like it’s been pounding at his chest, just waiting to be released. His hand lays flat on his abdomen as he taps his pointer finger repeatedly. The muscles in his neck flex, creating movement in the collar of his shirt.

He’s nervous. You know him well enough to know that, and you know you’re likely not hiding your true state very well either. He knows you just as well.

You try to respond.  The air you've been holding prisoner in your lungs tumbles out, catching in your throat.  A feeble, "H-hi," is all you can manage.

“You look…” his eyes wander your body, your face, your hair, his lips parted ever so slightly. “You look lovely.”

The statement reverberates in your mind until you hear a distant call of your name. A quick turn of your head finds your favorite hairstylist waving you down.

“I—” you swallow and start over. “Thank you. Thanks. I—, sorry, I gotta—” you motion toward your destination with your thumb before decidedly turning and slipping through the crowd, a copious amount of polite little statements slipping off your tongue in order to get out of sight and away from him.

.   .   .   .   .

“So… what the fuck was that?” Bella states gruffly, sitting opposite of you at a small high top table, tucked away in a quieter room off of the main ballroom. “That was, like, painful.”

You let out a small groan, knowing you’d have to tell them at some point, but dissenting the fact that the time for that confession seems to be right this very second.

“I kinda… I fucked things up between us.”

“I doubt that,” they say reassuringly.

“No, seriously, I—” you stop yourself mid-sentence to catch your breath. “I kissed him, Bel.”

They let out a satisfied chuckle.

“Well thank god. It’s about goddamn time.”

“No, no you don’t understand,” you babble. “I kissed him without thinking, realized what I did, and ran.”

“Ohhhh my g—” they blow a raspberry. “Ok. Well. When was this?”

“Like… a month ago?”

“A month?!”

“I haven’t spoken to him since.”

“Jesus christ… I’m assuming he’s tried to call you, yes?”

“Pretty much every single day since it happened,” your words come out more sigh than pitch.

Bella rubs their temples, an incomprehensible expression on their face.

“Gosh, it feels like mom and dad are fighting.”

That makes you snort laugh, to your own surprise.

“Well clearly he’s not angry at you. And you can’t avoid him forever,” they reason, their bluntness somehow comforting, unraveling the little knot sitting in your gut. “I wish you two would just put all your cards on the table. Worst comes to worst, things don’t work out.”

“I just really don’t want to lose him, Bellie,” you mumble into your drink.

“You will if you don’t talk to him,” they quip right back, eyes stern and decided.

You know they’re right. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you know.

“I’ll talk to him. Tomorrow. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”

“Fair enough. Now, come dance with me.” they hop to their feet and extend a hand.

You take it with a smile, and within a mere second they’re whisking you towards the dance floor.

.   .   .   .   .

You’ve had 3 drinks. Three strong drinks. On a stomach with only a few bite sized hors d'oeuvres to soak up the copious amount of gin in your system. 

And it’s helping, sure. Helping you forget momentarily that Pedro is probably within 100 feet of you at any given moment. Helping your breath move in and out the way it’s supposed to, without catching on threads of worry webbed inside your lungs. Helping to loosen the knots that riddled your body when you got here.

But it’s also making you dizzy. 

Dizzy enough that you’re not quite sure when you end and others begin. It’s all lights and laughter and limbs, filling your senses to the brim. The corners of your vision have a little haze to them, a haze that’s starting to grow inward.

You stumble your way out of the hoard, searching for the nearest corner to tuck yourself away in for a moment. A friend hollers after you, asking if you’re alright.

“I’m good! Just got the spins,” you reassure her. “I’ll be back.”

A little awning reveals itself to you in a narrow sightline through the crowd. You follow the slender gap without a second thought. Once you reach the end, you find a dimly lit hallway with an emergency exit sign illuminating a sturdy black door. You steady yourself on a railing and lean your weight into the wall, your head bowed slightly and shoulders rounded.

The pattern on the carpet sways in your vision as you let yourself hang for a moment, releasing tension from your upper body and pushing your feet firmly into the floor as some attempt at grounding. After a moment, you decide to take your shoes off in hopes it will inspire your body to feel more “at one with gravity”.

The sound of booming bass still accosts your ears, but more muffled now, and the sound waves flow through you, perfectly in time with the beating of your heart. It isn’t until your name is spoken the third time that you really hear it.

Your eyes shoot up to find Pedro, a worried, scrunched brow on his face and a bottle of water in his hand. 

“Oh- um…” you stammer. You continue to fight for the right words, any words, until he cuts you off.

“Drink this,” he twists the cap and gently places the bottle into your right hand. “I haven’t seen you take a sip of water the entire night. No wonder you’re dizzy.”

A moment of confusion clouds you, but you quickly remember that you shouted over the blaring music for all to hear of your current state. Your voice can be quite head-turning with a lack of inhibition. You obey his word and take a swig from the bottle, the crisp, cold water relentless against your sensitive teeth. The temperature is a visceral opposite to the flush of your face, causing you to furrow your brow slightly as it travels down your esophagus. 

He lets out a chuckle as he scans your expression.

“Cold?”

You produce an affirmative grumble and try to pass the bottle to him, but he gently pushes it back towards your chest. 

“Have some more.”

Your eyes flutter under the softness of his gaze. You try to gulp down the dry seed in you throat.

“Pedro, I—”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“Bella told me I have to talk to you,” you admit, your chin tucked and stare driving into the carpet, whispering in a way that sounded more like you were reminding yourself than telling him.

It makes him laugh, releasing that sweet, boisterous sound and it's accompanying smile you missed so dearly.

“Taking orders from Bellie now, eh?”

“They can be a bit militant when push comes to shove, to be honest,” a puff of air passes through your nose as a smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes glued to the floor. "'Specially if I'm being an idiot."

You take a few more sips of water and Pedro shifts to stand beside you, kicking his foot up with his back flat against the wall. Neither of you speak, only the sounds of your breath filling the space between you. 

You both inhale at the same time, as though you are both about to speak. 

“F—sorry, y-you go,” you gulp, though your mouth is bone dry.

He lets his exhale escape through puckered lips, and you watch as his hiked up chest deflates. His hand sits flat against the first button of his suit jacket as he thumbs at the lapel.

“I’ve spent the past month in agony, you know.”

You gaze up at his face, his eyes fixed on the glint in his freshly-shined shoes. He rolls his bottom lip through his teeth nervously, the hue of the skin shifting from an off-white to a bitten pink as it’s released from the grip.

“Missing you…” he spoke softly. “Wanting to talk to you…”

Guilt spreads like a wildfire, scalding your throat.

“Pedro, I— I am so s—”

“Wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.”

The words kick the air from your lungs, your lips parting to make way as the muscles in your jaw give out entirely. He turns to face your visage, and you find his painted with an expression of pure yearning. His eyes have a sparkle to them, but not of joy. It’s more like a heat, a burning that seems almost painful to endure. The thick, inescapable tension wraps itself hermetically around your neck.

“I— You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss you back.”

Before you can even process the words, the clinking of glasses sounds in the distance. Through the muffled shouting you hear a strained attempt at organizing a drunken group photo.

“We should probably…” you floppily gesture towards the ballroom, the alcohol seemingly turning your bones a bit soft and pliable. “Can we talk about this after the party? I'd like to be a little more sober if I can help it.”

“Right, uh—” he adjusts his tie slightly, insecurely clearing his throat. “After the party. I can do that.”

“I promise,” you assure, though you’re acutely aware that he has very little reason to trust you, considering you avoided him for almost a month straight. You reach for his hand, the one that’s still fidgeting with his jacket, hopeful your touch will convey your sincerity in a way that your words can’t.

He smiles, somewhat forcibly. and offers his arm.

“Shall we?”

You make your way back to the crowd, observing with a small chuckle as a few people with phones in hand attempt to herd people left and right, trying to create some semblance of a formation. The two of you slip into the hoard easily, gliding right into a perfect little cranny to the left of the pointed cameras.

Pedro slides his arm around your waist as you pose, and you’re certain he can feel your raging pulse thumping through every vessel beneath your skin.

“Ok, now a funny one!” says one of the photographers.

You turn to each other, smiling and searching for an idea. Drunken and foolish, you take his arm and pretend to bite it. 

He lets out a hearty laugh before leaning into the “scene”, his face mocking an expression of terror. You have to stifle your giggles with an open mouth, which results in a strange, almost strangled sound escaping you. It only encourages his laughter, which encourages yours, and droplets form at the crest of your eyes as you wait for the signal to drop the pose.

“Got it!” someone blurts across the ballroom.

“Sorry about that,” you guide his arm back to his side, giving it a gentle pat into place. “These hors d'oeuvres just made me hungrier.”

You laugh at your own joke, snorting on the inhale, and you look up to see his smile, wide and gleaming, the bounciest part of his cheeks sporting a salmon-pink hue. 

A distant voice calls for Pedro, hollering something about an actors-only picture, and he turns his head to find the source. You grab his hand before he starts towards them.

“Call me, ok? After the party,” you gently squeeze at his wrist. “I promise I’ll answer this time.”

He nods, his sickly sweet smile punctuated with picture-perfect dimples. He turns his back to you and weaves his way through the crowd. 

.   .   .   .   .

You finally made your way out of the coat check line after a grueling twenty minutes of needing to pee but not wanting to give up your spot in line. You’re standing outside the entrance now, the brisk air nipping at your bare ankles. You idly pull out your phone to find two text notifications from Pedro.

The first is an address, with a unit number. Los Angeles. You recognize the street name.

The second message reads:

I just got home. Buzz me when u get here. :) 

You almost start to skim through the unread messages he’d sent you since that night, but you’re quickly derailed by another buzz.

Pedro Pascal sent you $100. Description: for your ride.

You laugh out loud, amused by his overestimation of the price, but nevertheless stunned by his unfailing thoughtfulness. You start towards the stairs, your nerves burning and buzzing, entirely uncertain and out of control of what the evening holds.

. . . . .

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #the last of us #pedrohub

[slaybestieslay946]

Hey! I love ur blog and I saw ur accepting requests for luke castellan, (I’ve never requested a fic before so I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong lol)

Could I have a fic where reader comes to camp in the middle of the night after getting attacked by monster(doesn’t matter which monster) but after they’re in camp and moved into the Hermes cabin they’re distant and angry because theyre pissed off at the world and the gods. Luke being luke though doesn’t give up on trying to make the reader feel at home and tries his hardest to get them out of their shell. UNTIL reader gets claimed by Zeus and gets moved to the lonely Cabin 1 and can’t sleep so they go back to Hermes cabin and Luke lets them sleep in his bunk w him and fluffy ending of such

Damn that was a lot it’s totally ok if u don’t want to do this!

Thank you!!!

I really love this idea, and I'm so glad you love my blog! Hope you enjoy!

Mystery Girl

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

pairing: luke castellan x zeus!reader

warnings: minor depictions of violence, readers kind of a bitch but like not really.

a/n: reader is so unbothered i kinda aspire to be her

Late at night, you stumbled through the camp's threshold, leaning on Aspen, your protector. He was equally leaning into you, and you couldn’t tell whose blood it was soaking threw your shirt, yours, or his. 

You could see a few buildings at the bottom of the hill, and a few of them had lights on. 

“Help, please!” You shouted, weakly raising your arm to catch some sort of attention. 

Aspen did the same, his exclamations a mix of real words and pained bleats. 

Eventually, people began emerging from the buildings, rubbing their eyes in exhaustion, trying to work out what was going on. You and Aspen continued to shout for help, shuffling slowly down the hill, praying that you wouldn’t bleed out before you reached the bottom. 

Finally, someone seemed to realise you were in trouble, and a boy about your age began jogging up the hill towards you. His face was mostly calm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, halting when he saw the blood on your clothes and the used spear in your hand. 

You instinctively let go of Aspen, and rushed forward to seek help.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded desperately, losing your balance and stumbling forwards towards him. 

“Alright, alright.” He said, catching you by the arm and holding you steady, before shouting down at the campers below, “These two need to get to the infirmary! Someone wake the Apollo cabin, yeah?!”

He then turned back to you, holding you steady by the arms and trying to assess the damage. 

“It’s alright, yeah? You’re safe now, we just gotta get these cuts checked out, hm?”

You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move your head, or your body. You tried to speak, tried to tell him that Aspen needed help too, but your mouth couldn’t move either. 

And then your vision went black. 

*

When you woke up, you thought you were in heaven. It smelt nice, homely. Not that you really knew that home was supposed to smell like. 

It was warm too, and you felt yourself sighing contentedly. If this really was heaven, then you didn’t mind being there all that much. 

After a while, you decided it was time to open your eyes, maybe go and explore the afterlife. 

But when you tried to sit up, you felt a sharp jolt of pain that snapped you back to reality. You let out a small hiss in discomfort, lowering yourself back into the bed. 

Slowly, the memories began to come back to you, leaving school, Aspen forcing you onto a road trip, nearly getting killed by a monster, and finally passing out on the hill of a ‘camp’. 

Heaven sounded preferable. 

You took in the room. It seemed like any old house, a dresser in the corner along with a wardrobe and old floral wallpaper that even covered the ceiling. Until you noticed another bed beside yours, with Aspen asleep on it, and one beside his. 

You remembered the words of that boy who’d run to you, and you figured this must be the infirmary. 

“Hey, Aspen.” You whispered, turning your head to the side and trying to ignore the sting of your injuries.

“Aspen!” You called again, raising your voice, but still he didn’t hear you. He must still be asleep. Lucky bastard. 

You huffed, sinking fully back into the pillows and waiting for someone to arrive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and soon enough a young boy was coming in, holding several canisters of liquid. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” He grinned, “How’s the pain?”

“Bad.” You replied, groaning at the thought. 

He chuckled, “Not surprising. You got some nasty scratches from that monster. Here, drink some of this, it’ll fix you up.” 

He offered one of the canisters to you, and you took it, regarding it with a certain amount of suspicion. 

“What’s this?”

“Nectar. It’ll help, trust me.” 

You relented, deciding that it was worth the risk if it would get rid of some of the throbbing in your back. 

And he was right, almost immediately, you felt soothed, and as you drank more, you began to feel energised, like you could conquer the world. 

“What did you say this was? Nectar?” 

“Yep. Food of the gods.” 

“Where’d you get this stuff?” 

“Oh, we get shipments from Olympus every month. You won’t find that at your local grocery store.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” You held up your hands to stop him for a minute, “What do you mean Olympus?” 

The boy's eyes widened, and some kind of realisation struck him. 

“I don’t think I should be the one to break this to you.” 

*

Just a few hours later, everything had been explained to you, and you were kicked out of the so-called ‘Big House’. Nice of them to do that, considering a centaur had just dropped the bombshell that you were the child of an ancient Greek god. 

To be fair though, you probably should have clocked that something was up when you were being chased by a mythical beast, but then again, you did have your hands full. 

Now, you were sitting on the front steps of the porch, waiting for some kid to show you round the camp. 

“Hey, mystery girl! Good to see you’re feeling better.” A voice called out, and you looked up to see the very same boy who had come to your aide on the hill. 

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Luke.”

“Y/N.” 

“Right, so, I’ll start the tour.” He declared, flashing you another bright grin which you feebly returned. 

He started the tour off at the dining pavilion, then showed you the amphitheatre, then the strawberry fields, the archery range and the lake. 

Finally, he introduced you to each of the cabins, skipping over the empty cabins 1, 2 and 3. 

“And this,” He gestured to the eleventh cabin, “Will be where you’re staying.”

“Woah.” You said, stepping back, “What do you mean staying? I can’t stay here.” 

He looked at you blankly, “You don’t really have much of a choice, mystery girl.”

“Yeah, I do. I can leave whenever I want, you can’t do anything about it.” 

“You wanna get killed by a monster? Because if I remember right, you came awfully close a few days ago. That’s why you can’t leave.” 

“Well I guess I’ll just have to take that chance. Appreciate the tour and everything, but I’m going.” You then turned on your heel and began to walk away. 

There was no chance in hell you were staying in this camp, and if it had to be over your dead body, then so be it. 

However, your desertion was halted by Luke grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back. 

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You’ll die as soon as you step past that barrier. Just,” He sighed, seemingly exasperated, “Stay for one night. It’s not that bad here once you get used to it.” 

You glared up at him, weighing your options. He seemed pretty serious about this. 

“And you can’t leave Aspen when he’s still in critical condition?”

That broke your resolve.

“Fine. I’ll stay until Aspen wakes up. Show me my bunk.” 

He grinned, and turned back to Cabin 11, showing you inside. 

*

Turns out, Aspen waking up wouldn’t be such a close deadline as you thought. As it turned out, he’d been hit by some kind of poisonous claw from the monster, and had been put into some kind of coma. 

So now, as prior to your agreement with Luke, you were stuck here until he woke up. Which could be next week, or next year for all you knew. 

And yeah, you felt bad for the guy ‘cause he was in a coma, but it was seriously messing up your plans of leaving camp. 

Because you hated camp. 

The Hermes cabin stunk, and it was constantly noisy. Probably because there were so many people in there all the damn time. 

You also sucked at most of the stuff around camp. 

You weren’t exactly nurturing, so it was a no to the infirmary and the strawberry fields. You were an awful shot, and when you had a go in the forges you dropped a mallet on your foot. You were still recovering from that one. 

It seemed the only thing you were even slightly good at was fighting, mainly with the staff Aspen had lent you during the fight with the monster outside camp. Still, you weren’t great, unlike Luke who had insisted on taking you under his wing. 

He sat with you at every dinner and breakfast, and always seemed to be there when you turned a corner, or found a moment of peace. 

Yes, it was very kind of him to try and settle you in, but it was pretty futile, considering all you had wanted to do ever since you woke up was leave, consequences be damned. 

The one saving grace to your boredom was capture the flag. Luke had told you about it on your first day, and it was a game you remembered playing as a kid, and really enjoying. Apparently they ran a game every month, and this coming Sunday would be your first time playing.

The day of the game arrived, and for the first time in your two weeks at camp, you were in a decently good mood, and of course, Luke took notice of this. 

“What’s got you so happy, mystery girl?”

“Nothing. Besides, why do you keep calling me that, you know my name now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you're just so private and mysterious. I’m surprised you even told me your name.”

“I wish I didn’t, Castellan, maybe you wouldn’t be here to bug me all the time.” 

“Ouch, don’t be like that. You know I’m great company really.” 

You didn’t reply to that, instead rolling your eyes at him and returning to the task of tightening your armour, struggling a bit with the straps. 

Luke quickly came to your aid, much to your chagrin, helping you adjust the breastplate so it fit properly. 

“Thanks.” You sighed reluctantly, quickly stepping away from him to grab your spear. 

“No problem.” 

*

Soon, the game was well underway, and you quickly realised that you had been given possibly the most boring job, that being guarding the perimeter. Not that you could really blame your team leaders, you were the newest member and logically the most inexperienced. But still, you’d been hoping for something a little more exciting. 

Every now and then you heard the odd shout further on in the woods and raised your spear, but you never actually caught sight of anyone from the opposing team. Or your team for that matter. 

You really had been given the short straw. 

After another hour of standing there, you were about ready to quit all of this completely, throw off your armour and escape camp, agreement with Luke be damned, that was until you heard hurried footsteps, and someone panting heavily coming from behind you. 

You quickly whipped around, to see a girl from the Ares cabin, holding your flag, standing about 50 feet away. 

Then you heard another step of footsteps, and there was Luke, around the same distance away, holding the opposing team's flag. 

You really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something this exciting. 

They both began to run towards the threshold at top speed, and you stayed standing between them, unsure of what to do. Should you step back and let Luke do his thing, or should you step in to stop the girl. She looked pretty terrifying. 

You whipped your head side to side, continuing to debate, and in the midst of your dilemma, you realised the girl was much closer to you than Luke was. Fuck. 

You had to stop her somehow, but you obviously could just slash blindly at her, you didn’t want to behead her. 

And then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, falling directly in her path, and she leapt back to avoid it, stumbling and also falling to the floor. 

Luke kept running, swerving around the fallen tree and onto your team's territory, cheering as the red flag shimmered and turned blue, and the conch sounded. 

You quickly ran over to the girl, clambering over the tree in an effort to help her up. 

She looked up at you in shock and confusion, but her eyes seemed to be focused on the space just about your head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She pointed above you, “He claimed you.” She stuttered out. 

You looked to where she was pointing, and saw a lightning bolt shining above your head. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

*

Of course you had to be Zeus’ kid. Just your luck, a forbidden child, with some stupid prophetic destiny. 

If you ever met your father, you’d be sure to give him an earful about his part in your conception. 

Almost immediately after capture the flag, you were announced to the camp by Chiron, and then promptly herded into the empty cabin 1. 

And you never thought you’d say it, but you missed cabin 11. Sure, it was a mess, and the kids in there didn’t know how to shut up, but at least it had some semblance of life, unlike your new home. It was barren, and empty, and you hated it. 

It was even worse now that you had your own permanent bed. Before you’d had at least a pipedream of leaving camp and going off on your own again, but now that was entirely gone. Chiron would never let you out of his sight ever again, not now that you were a child of the ‘Big Three’. You were so screwed. 

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, unable to sleep in the unfamiliar environment, and, strangely, uncomfortable with the crushing loneliness you felt. 

You’d never felt lonely before. Your whole life, you’d been pretty much alone, but that was by choice. This time it was by force, and you felt isolated from everyone else at camp. Suddenly you regretted your refusal to make friends. 

So, your feet naturally carried you to the only person you could kind of call a friend, and you weren’t surprised when you landed outside Luke Castellan’s window. 

You gave it a light tap, and he opened his eyes, giving you a sad smile as he saw your face through the window. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all either. 

“Can I come in?” You mouthed through the window, and he quickly nodded, reaching up to open it and let you in. 

“Thanks,” You whispered, stepping down onto the hardwood floor. 

“No problem. Having trouble sleeping?” He asked, patting the spot beside him. You gladly sat down.

“Uh, yeah. It’s really empty there.” 

“Hm, sure is. You sure you didn’t just miss me too much?”

“Maybe I did Castellan.” You declared, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to say.

 “I’m sorry though, Luke. I’ve been kind of an asshole ever since I got here.” You said, looking down at your muddy shoes. 

“Hey, I get it. It’s an adjustment, that’s for sure. I’ve dealt with worse from newcomers.” 

“Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” 

“Anytime.” 

You both fell silent for a moment, listening to the snores of the kids around you before he piped up again. 

“Hey, I don’t mind you staying here tonight if you want?” He said, his voice slightly awkward. You paid it no mind.

“I’d like that.” 

He moved to the other side of the bed as you removed your shoes, rolling onto the bed beside him. 

You were both silent again for a while, until Luke’s voice yet again came from beside you. 

“I’m gonna have to come up with a new name for you now, huh?”

“What, I’m not mysterious anymore?” You asked, feigning offence. 

“Not now that we’re best buddies. I’m thinking… Sparky!” 

“That is god awful.” 

“Exactly.” 

You snickered under your breath at his idiotic sense of humour, and allowed yourself to sink into the bed beside him. 

And for the first time, you didn’t want to leave.

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #writing #pjo #luke castellan #fluff #x reader

[myouicieloz]

Sunday afternoon shenanigans

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: you were having a Sunday off at the dorm and you were bored out of your mind when you remember Ningning’s vibrator hidden in one of her drawers. you’ve decided to have some fun, after all, but of course Giselle never knocks.

Warnings: smut? I guess. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED MY BELOVEDS. this is my first time ever writing/posting something like this… I was so embarrassed I swear to God. but I did have fun, too! I hope you like it and if there’s anything wrong pls tell me so I can fix it. I won’t check for any errors or mistakes or else I’ll just be too embarrassed and delete it all so enjoy!! luv u kisses. also i wrote vibrator bc I didn’t want to write dildo. so imagine what you will.

Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

It was a slow Sunday at the dorm. Karina and Winter had gone out shopping and Ningning was in China on one of her solo schedules, which left you and Giselle alone, all bored and tedious. You’ve been staring at your room’s ceiling (which you shared with Minjeong), for quite a while now, wondering what to do to kill off the boredom. Your mind wandered to something you remembered spotting in Ning’s room, once, when you were looking for a shirt she had borrowed ages ago. Remembering the big, bright-green toy in Ning’s drawers, you’ve impulsively decided you were done waiting for someone gross to finally fuck you; you’d do it yourself, instead.

That thought left you staring at the thing, still eyeing the vibrator suspiciously after wondering if you weren’t just too bored, and all. Surely, Ningning wouldn’t mind (or she would, but you’d by her another weird dildo if she fussed too much about you using it).

However, you had no idea of how that whole sex thing worked in practice. Sure, you’ve watched porn and listened to your bandmates ramble about their escapades, but it simply wasn’t the same. You huffed, frustrated but determined to but an end to it, after all.

“Hey, the girls were wondering if you’d like them to bring something to eat when they get ba-”Giselle stopped herself mid-sentence as she barged into your room, no doubt surprised by the sight of you with your hands down your shorts and the neon green vibrator one of your hands.

You jumped on your bed, pushing Giselle out of the bedroom as you cursed her out.

“What the fuck, unnie? Don’t you ever fucking knock? Doors are closed for reasons.”

You seriously wanted to die. And kill her. Then die and kill her again. You felt your face getting flushed with bright red as you hit your head on the door, hearing your friend’s laugh through the wood.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll just let the girls know you’re not… hungry. For food.” Another laugh echoed, and you knocked your head stronger. “I’m sorry, ok Yn? Let me in… please?”

Giselle was met with silence, as you were still trying to figure out how to flush your head down the toilet after being caught in such a scene by one of your bandmates and best friends.

“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off, ok? It’s like, super natural. It’s not like we don’t masturbate, either.” She kept on talking, and you could picture her looking at her nails with her bored expression, tiny nose and monotonous voice, “In fact, I really should get a new vibrator for myself too. I feel like mine’s fucked up with the batteries or something. Although, of course I won’t get one in that hideous color like yours and-“

“Ugh, it’s not mine!” You said, giving up on ignoring the shorter girl and deleting yourself from earth. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled her by the arms, making sure to close the door well enough this time. “Just shut your fucking mouth, unnie God.” You muttered, preparing yourself to explain the whole situation to her.

(…)

“Why is it so green, though?” You questioned Giselle, turning the vibrator upside down with 2 of your fingers, almost unsure of how to manage it.

The two of you were sitting in your bed after you explained the entire idea to your friend, hoping she wouldn’t find you too pathetic. Thankfully, the only thing that truly made Giselle wrinkle her nose at was the color of the thing.

“How would I know? Ning’s weird as fuck. Maybe it’s a kink of hers or something.” Giselle scoffed, also looking a bit disgusted by the device’s bright color, and you hummed in approval.

It was very Ningning coded, indeed.

The silence after your conclusion was awkward, and you intended to give your friend an excuse to exit your room when she uttered, out of nowhere, “I could help you out, you know.”

“E-excuse me?” You gagged. This afternoon just kept getting odder and odder.

You mean, it’s not like you and Giselle weren’t close, which you were. You’ve changed, bathed and shared more intimate moments together than you could ever remember. It’s just… this was different. Very different.

“I could help you with what you… want.” She sounded almost unsure, even though she nudged you playfully. “Come on, it’s not like you know anything in practice.”

“No need to flatter yourself, huh.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, ignoring your bitter tone, “that I could make you feel good. And that’s what you want, right? I mean, that’s what sex is about anyway.”

You were still not fully convinced, but you were eyeing her more attentively now. Sensing you were almost giving in, she plucked one of your locks out of your face. “It’s really not the big of a deal you think it is, Yn. It’s just sex, and we’re friends. Right?”

“...Yeah, right.”

This was obviously a stupid, impulsive, brainless idea, to have sex for the first time with one of your bandmates. While your other bandmates weren’t home.

You took a deep breath, nudging Giselle back and laughing as she looses balance and almost falls from your bed.

“Fine. Let’s do it, then.”

(…)

“So... should I just put it in?”

“What? No!” Giselle looks at you with big eyes, giggling a little. She stopped when you kept on staring at her, now realizing you were serious about not knowing how to do this. She took the toy from your hands before frowning at it, then sizing you up. “Well, not at first, at least. You’re not even wet. This way it won’t fit, and it will be too painful.”

“It’ll be painful anyway.” you grumbled, allowing her to spread your legs to place herself between them. Aeri massages your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Not really, no.” she can tell you’re nervous by the way your eyes never meet hers, and you keep twitching as if to fight the urge to close your legs and dress yourself. “It might be uncomfortable at first, but then it’s like... a nice kind of discomfort.” her fingers tease the hem of your shorts, lightly brushing your abdomen. Ever since she’s caught you in your room and offered to help, Giselle has been nothing but patient. “You don’t have to do it, though.” she reminds you, still caressing your body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin and-“

“I-“ you took a deep breath, finally gathering enough courage to stand on your elbows and look at her, although you still sounded unsure. “I do want to do it. I’m just ashamed, I guess. You can admit that it’s a bit pathetic, no problem.”

Giselle giggled again, this time with her fingers accompanying her light posture are they ran through your body, picking on your waist and poking your ribs in the places she knows you feel ticklish the most. You laugh and try to squirm under her touch — you’re taller, much taller, but she is stronger, so she quickly strands you entirely, hands locking your wrists up in your head so you couldn’t move or try to get on top of her.

“Hey, no fair! Let me go!” you plead, but your laughter and the weak way you try to run from her is all Giselle needs to know her mission has succeeded: you’re way less tense now.

“You’re so cute, Yn. it’s adorable, really.” she says, kissing each of your cheeks repeatedly. You try your best not to blush.

Even though you were the group’s maknae, you weren’t often reckoned as such, with your height making you impose and usually not the cute girl type. You didn’t mind it, either; you’d rather jump off a bridge than do aegyo anyway.

One of Giselle’s hands let go of your wrists to make its way down your abdomen again, though the other one kept holding you in place. Her featherlight touches still made you squirm, but she held you with such care, you couldn’t help but to feel safe.

“Is it ok if I take this off?” she asked, gripping at your panties as she scanned you for any reservations. You tensed again, but as you opened your mouth to say it was ok, she cut you, “it’s ok, then. We’ll just push it to the sides.”

Giselle knew how insecure you were about your body. The girls were always teasing you and karina for wearing the clothes with most fabric, and you often laughed about it. It was only now, in your newest comeback, that you were beginning to try new things and riskier, revealing outfits. She never understood it, though. You were praised by numerous knetz about your body; how toned, and athletic you were, with your long legs and gracious arms, fit for a supermodel. Which you have been since your teens, for a fact. The company had recently signed you off with Valentino and you were absolutely outstanding walking in Paris Fashion Week, which Karina had also attended, though not as a model. She did try her best to always praise how beautiful you were, though, to make sure you knew it.

True to her word, Aeri tapped your hips, and you raised them as she slipped your shorts past your legs and threw them on your bedroom floor. Your panties were pushed to the sides, as promised, but before her fingers could reach your pussy, the older girl lifted herself up from between your thighs, a slight frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Unnie?” You asked her, looking for any signs of trouble in her yourself. Did you do anything wrong? Should you touch her, too? Does she even want to be touched? Fuck, you were so bad at this. Perhaps if you were any bolder, you would’ve gotten laid already and wouldn’t be in this pathetic situati-

“It’s all ok, Yn-,” Giselle reassured you, squeezing your hips to snap yourself away from your thoughts and back to her, to this. Now that you noticed it, she was gripping each of your thighs with her hands, and her face was too close to your core. Too fucking close. You felt your face get hot and a familiar sensation build up on your lower abdomen. (You weren’t a total prude, of course you’ve touched yourself before, even if it wasn’t often.). “I think my fingers will hurt you if we do them now, though. But don’t worry, I’ll prep you up.”

“What do you mean with prepping me u-oh fuck,” you drop your head on the bedside as she finally gave your pussy a long lick, delighting herself as she saw how responsive you were. Smaller, quieter ones followed, and soon the older girl was nearly making out with her dripping cunt.

You bit your lip, trying not to make any noise, but soon your bandmate’s fingers brushed your lips, forcing their way in.

“Don’t silence yourself,” she told you, watching you suck on her thumb so prettily. It made her so aroused to see how good you were at this. At following commands—her commands. It made Giselle want to rip the rest of your clothes and take you until you were crying for her to let go of you. “It will feel better if you let the sounds out, trust me.” She cupped your jaw before going back to eating you out, so you did as told, not bothering to hide how good this was making you feel at all.

“Ok...” you mumbled, moaning loudly as she teased you with her mouth. You arched your back whenever Aeri slipped her tongue into your dripping cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. The friction it made was out of this world, and you felt the waves of pleasure building up slowly but deliciously to create an entirely new feeling.

“Is it good?” She asked, her hot breath on clit before she gave it a light suck. You nodded, “Tell me.”

“S’too good, oh fuck.” You managed to answer her, breathless. One of your hands grabbed her hair, and you tried to shove her face even deeper into your pussy, but it made Giselle stop instead. You rolled your eyes at her. She was too bossy. “Sorry, unnie. More, please?” You were rewarded, then, as Giselle’s attention went back to your clit, circling it hard and fast as her hands pulled on your panties with enough strength to rip it off.

She grabbed your thighs and gave your clit a hard suck, making you almost scream. You cried loudly as you were hit by a hard wave of pleasure, with Giselle still licking you through your high, her eyes trained on your frame.

She got up and made her way up to you, promptly kissing you with her lips smeared with your juices. “Next time, tell me when you’re close, ok?” She asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You nodded, still brushing her lips.

You could feel her hands in the hem of your hoodie and your shirt, and she stopped the kiss to gesture for you to get your arms up, which you did. Soon you were bare to her, a bit shy from the way her eyes were darkened and she stared at your chest with such lust. You tried to cover yourself, but Giselle was quick to replace your hands with hers instead, cupping your breasts eagerly.

“So pretty, Yn...” she said, and soon you two were making out again, with you on her lap. Your brain had long been reduced to mush and your sole focus was on Giselle: the way her hair was perfectly in place, hands running through all your body.

She was painfully clothed, though, you noticed. A clear contrast to your exposure. You told her just that, trying to get off of her so she’d undress too, but you weren’t allowed.

“Of course I am, silly.” She smiled at you, “This isn’t about me anyways.” And as she reached for you once again, you couldn’t find much strength to be bothered enough to argue, too busy with her kisses and touches. You couldn’t muster how long the two of you spent like that, just exploring each other’s bodies, but it was long enough for you to feel the heat building up on your core a second time, making you worry you were making a mess on Giselle’s thigh.

You tensed when you felt her fingers brushing your entrance, not quite entering but teasing, gathering your slick before going up on your clit, circling it for a few times then presenting themselves again on your pussy.

“Shh, it’s ok,” she cooed, placing wet kisses on your neck. She gently sucked on your pulse point, making you drop your head and moan embarrassingly loud. Thank God the girls were out. “It’s just one finger. You’ve taken fingers before, right?”

You shook your head, whining when you felt it enter you. It burned a little, and it was clearly too tight, but you already felt your entire body burning up. It was too good to stop. She stopped the work on your neck to stare at you, and you saw her eyes darken.

“No fingers? Not even yours?” She gripped your thighs harder, urging you to answer, but you were too busy rocking yourself against her hand to create more friction, anything to deepen this feeling that was already so, so good, “Answer me when I talk to you, yn.” Giselle’s tone was harsh, and you flinched a little. She curled another finger inside you, making you rock yourself onto her faster.

“It d-didn’t do anything when I did it by myself before, so I would just p-play with my clit until I came-oh God.” You squeezed your eyes as she added a second finger, increasing her rhythm.

She was breathless, too, you noticed as she kissed your chest, pinching your nipples and sucking on your breasts without caring if it was messy.

“Fuck, yn. You’ll drive me fucking insane” she murmured. You couldn’t even answer, reduced into a pool of cries and whimpers, but it just felt so good it made you want to cry. How could you have gone so long without it?

Giselle’s grip on you was strong, whether it was in your arms, hips, or thighs, and it would surely bruise later, but you didn’t care a single bit. All you wanted was for her to go harder and faster, not stopping.

“Unnie, please.” You pleaded, searching for her lips as you kissed her sloppily. “More, please, please, ah...” now you were deeply thankful that jimin and minjeong were out. There was no way your moans weren’t being echoed through the entire dorm.

It didn’t matter, though, because your cries rewarded you with an even faster pace, and the pain of being stretched as now only a reminder of the combo of sensations you were feeling.

“You’re such a mess right now, yn.” Giselle told you, her hands on your hips to keep you grinding on her without losing the fast pace. “So, so pretty.” She praised, pecking your lips.

You got shy, hiding your face in the crook of her neck to keep her from noticing how much that aroused you, feeling the familiar heat gathering in your belly.

“Aeri stop, I-I’m gonna,” you motioned to stop, but she only gripped you tighter.

“It’s ok, baby, don’t stop. Come for me.” She commanded, working her fingers even faster as she added her thumb to your clit and circled it fast. With a few strokes, you came.

Your vision went black, and you felt your body go numb, almost as though there were a million fireworks exploding inside of you. You felt Giselle’s hand on your back, tracing light circles as she held you close, still snuggled to her. You took your time evening your breaths, and a few minutes passed until you felt strong enough to get out of her lap and lay in bed, staring at her attentively.

“That was...” you didn’t even know what to say. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” You told Aeri, meeting her gaze.

She licked her fingers clean, the ones who were buried deep inside you just a few moments ago, letting them go with an audible ‘pop’.

“You did very good, baby.” She said, hugging you gently. “I’m glad you liked it. I told you it was good.”

“I guess.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds. It had been intense, but now you felt like a big-ass truck had run over you multiple times.

The sound of the shower being turned on made you open your eyes again, seeing Aeri besides you, a glass of cold water in your hands.

“Here, take it,” she motioned to you, who complied immediately, drinking it all pretty fast. “How about you take a bath now, huh? The girls might be back anytime.” You nodded, not wanting them to see you like that, and you took the hand Giselle offered to get up and go to the bathroom.

You did see something green displayed on the ground when you’ve reached your bathroom door, though, and you laughed a little to yourself.

“Unnie?”

“Yeah, Yn?”

“We didn’t even use the vibrator.” You pointed it out, seeing Aeri’s big smirk. The girl’s mouth opened in a fake motion as she grabbed it, taking it out of the room with her.

“I guess we forgot. We’ll have to save it for next time, then.” She winked at you, leaving you to shower alone.

Giselle would be caught dead if she wasn’t going to corrupt you all to herself.

#aespa giselle #aespa #aespa scenarios #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa winter #aespa karina #aespa ningning #giselle x reader #aerichandesu #aeri uchinaga #aeri uchinaga x reader #giselle smut #kpop smut #sol writes #sol’s works

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life. 

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.” 

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 

At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood. 

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 

But he can’t move.

“Harp!” 

And you can’t feel your fingers. 

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 

You can’t break—not like Rorke. 

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 

Keegan? 

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 

“Christ,” he hisses. 

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!” 

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 

Two months. 

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 

He’d denied all of them. 

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 

It’s a moment before he answers you. 

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared. 

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 

Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 

Home. 

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 

You push yourself into him tighter. 

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #x female reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #hesh walker x female reader #hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker #hesh walker #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #call of duty: ghosts