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mrsparrasblog · 4 days

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You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader

TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation

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Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.

You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.

"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.

"Babe, please."

"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.

"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.

"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.

When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"

"Got in some fights around the base."

"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.

"Don't want anyone else."

"Kyle."

"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."

You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.

"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.

"Love—"

"Let me clean you."

He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."

"Kyle, I can't lie to you."

You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.

"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."

"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."

"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.

"He understands."

"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.

"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."

"Let me fix this."

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John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.

"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."

"Cheated on you, deserve it."

"I know it was Johnny."

"Lie."

"Kyle told me."

"Oh."

"Can you forgive me, John?"

"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.

"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?

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"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.

"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.

"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.

"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."

"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"

"There will be, and then we'll be happy."

"You're sick. This will never happen."

"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."

"No one will believe you."

"They will."

And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.

"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."

"Hen, please."

You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?

"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."

"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.

"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."

You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"

"Love, don't believe—"

"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"

That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.

"Luv?"

"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.

Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.

"Johnny?"

"Go away, Lt."

"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."

"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."

"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.

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artemismoorea03 · 4 months

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DP x DC Prompt: I Couldn't Just Let Him Die

So one thing I don't think is touched on enough is the fact that Danny never wanted to be a hero. Like, yeah, we all know he didn't want o be a hero and he makes a joke about it but when we actually think about it this was a life he choose because nobody else was there to help. The main reason?

He didn't want people to get hurt.

Something Batman would relate to.

Now, while I love the idea of Danny absolutely beating the shit out of Joker or any villain who absolutely deserves to have their shit rocked by a kid who is only 5'5" and weighs at most 120 pounds, when we actually think about Danny's character what's more likely? Again, no hate to any of the people who do those fics, keep it up, I love seeing Joker get his just deserts.

But hear me out.

Warnings for fighting, violence, and DC typical weapons.

There was a new meta in Gotham and he was driving Bruce crazy. This kid showed up out of the blue with absolutely no information on him anywhere online or otherwise with tech so outdated not even Oracle could hack it. The only thing Bruce knew about the kid was that he called himself 'Phantom' and that he was a teenager around 14 years old.

Other than that the kid had been a pain in the ass.

Muggings? Phantom took care of it by saving the person then lecturing the person until a Bat or police showed up then literally vanished.

Fires? Phantom would fly in and out of burning buildings repeatedly with no care for his own safety. No mask, no fire protection, nothing but the thin suit he wore.

Kidnappings? Don't worry, Phantom had it handled long before Batman could even get the call to help! EVEN WHEN IT WAS ONE OF HIS OWN KIDS WHO GOT KIDNAPPED!

Granted, Phantom never got in the way of a fight but the amount of evidence that was lost due to what he was doing and how he was doing it was inconvenient. Fingerprints got wiped, evidence of what started fires were covered in an unmeltable ice, kidnappers took off the second their captive was freed and were practically untraceable after that.

It wasn't until a massive Arkham breakout that he actually got to properly meet the kid. Every prisoner had broken out and the city plunged into madness as heroes ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. Villains against heroes, criminals verse vigilantes, villains verses criminals - it was a madhouse.

Batman could hardly keep track of it all but when one of Penguin's men threw a bomb into a crowd and it landed near Joker's feet there was a long silence. It was like the city had fallen silent all around him as Batman tried to get to the bomb.

Joker was a villain.

Joker had hurt his family, killed millions of innocents including his own son, but he was sick. He didn't deserve to die.

Apparently Phantom agreed because he flew faster than Batman could track him shoving Joker away from the bomb before encasing the bomb in ice.

"Hey! What's the big idea shovin' me, bub?!" Joker said, seemingly forgetting about the bomb that was still in the kids hand. Joker walked right up to Phantom, glaring down at the shorter male who just looked at him. "Think you're some kind of hero?!"

Phantom blinked, "I feel like answering that is a trap."

Joker grabbed Phantom by the front of his shirt, "A funny guy, huh? Think you can out joke the Joker?"

"Again. That feels like a trap. I'm not trying to do anything, Clowny. But I wasn't about to let you die."

Joker glared, "Why?"

Phantom slipped out of Joker's hands somehow, much to Joker's confusion. "Because that's not who I am. Criminal or not, I'm not going to let you die if I can protect you."

"Who says I need protection?"

Phantom held up the bomb again with a deadpan look. "Lucky guess." He said, then suddenly noticed something to his right. "Oh, gotta go. Later Clowny."

"IT'S JOKER!" Joker shouted after Phantom as he flew away. "Batman! Teach your baby bats some manners!"

"He's not mine, Joker." Batman said, marching over, grabbing Joker's wrists and cuffing them behind his back.

Not yet anyway. But with a mentality like that... maybe this pain in the ass could learn a thing or two from a Bat.

#dp x dc prompt #my prompts #dc x dp prompt

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mrsnancywheeler · 5 months

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the lakes (9) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, lots of violence/death/blood, like a lot of it, it's the hunger games, mentions of starvation and dehydration, injuries, mental illness, self loathing, casual dominance, savior complex Finnick, codependent relationship, reader has trauma relating to being too cold especially being cold + cold water we'll get into it eventually like next chapter, terms of endearment, nudity in a non sexual way, unedited, no use of y/n, Finnick washes readers hair

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You woke up too early, there was too much time for your thoughts to run on top of the fact that you'd barely slept at all. Mind full of reminders of the last time you'd been in the arena, how cruel fate was. At least you were still with Finnick, the protection of his arms, surrounded by his love, and you snuggled further into his grasp. Desperate to savor every speck of his being, of the moment before it could be taken away from you. You forced your eyes back shut, who knew how much sleep would be available in the arena, being well-rested could be an advantage. It didn't hit you until you sniffled that you were crying, it felt pathetic, how often you cried.

“I know you're awake." His voice didn't startle you, simply made you intertwine your legs with his even further.

“Don't wanna be." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, somehow even if there was no ocean he'd been swimming in for so long, his scent was still that of saltwater. It comforted you, like the smell of your home when the windows opened in the morning.

“I know, sweet girl." He nodded, arms having wrapped themselves tighter around you. An unspoken fear that if either of you let go it would be the last time. Tears peppered his neck and you already felt like it was lulling you back to sleep.

You weren't sure when your exhausted self had fallen asleep like that, but the next thing you remembered was Finnick softly whispering your name, announcing it was time. You kept your eyes shut and shook your head which broke his heart. Part of your brain reminded you that you volunteered for this, you could have been at home sick with anxiety, but instead you chose to be here.

“Come on, sweet girl, we have too." He whispered, voice so comforting it could have made you fall right back into your sleep. He was hypnotic.

“I can't." It was true, you couldn't have willed your body to move even if you’d wanted to. Your muscles felt like they'd shut down, frozen in place. He didn't push back with an ‘I told you so’ he just began lifting you up from the bed. Your head shook as he moved, “Please, Finnick.”

"Angel, we don't have a choice.” His voice was sad, but definitive. He wiped away the residual tests and tiredness in your eyes from where he'd say you on the bed.

Staring into his soothing eyes helped your stiff muscles loosen somewhat, but shame had begun to take over your brain too. “I'm sorry." You muttered, your voice cracked and was still heavy with sleep.

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” He kissed your forehead, "I've got you, sweet girl, I'll take care of you.” The guilt was almost numbing your body all over again, but it all reactivated when Finnick tried to step away. Instantly grabbing his hand and whining when he'd tried to pull away. “I'm just starting the shower." He reassured, but you didn't let go. So he sighed before resigning himself to it and just picking you up to come with him. He started the shower and put you down.

Maybe it had all finally hit you, the fact that your impending death meant you'd never have these moments with him again, but you felt completely robotic. Your arms felt heavy and you felt lonely the moment he was no longer touching you. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to get undressed in your stupor, but Finnick’s warm hands overtook your own.

“Don't worry about it, angel, I told you I’ll take care of you." You nodded dumbly as he began helping you undress. You'd spent so much time recently trying to prove you could do this you'd forgotten how nice it was to just let him take control, let him take care of you. As he helped you into the shower the warm water made you more tired which he could tell, “I'm going to have to make the water cold to help wake you up, sweet girl, just for a little bit."

You'd mumbled something incoherently probably trying to argue, but you couldn't, you needed your head in the game today. Finnick gave you a second before turning the temperature over to cold, you weren't standing directly in the water, so the residual sprays of water misted your body making you shiver. He cupped his hands under the water, collecting some of it.

“Tilt your head back for me, angel, got to wake you up." You did so and closed your eyes as the icy water hit your face. Although you'd never admit it to him, the water itself wasn't what really was waking you up, well it was in a way. The cold instantly put you back into the arena, the way you'd all been dripping and shaking in the freezing rain for days on end. “You okay?"

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you."

“Awake enough that I can turn the water back?" He smiled softly at you as your hands moved up and down your arms trying to create heat.

“Yes, please." You were grateful when he did, making it burning hot like you preferred. It all made you miss your home in District 4 where it was usually warm outside and the water reflected that, or every time it was cool it was combined with heat. So rarely did the weather and water coincide to be bitingly cold in those cases you just refused to leave the house much to Finnick's chagrin.

He led you into the stream of water, its full heat covering you as he wet your hair. When he was fully satisfied he took his time washing it, hands massaging your scalp. “You know hot water is bad for your hair." He whispered as he washed some fancy shampoo out of it.

“I don't care and don't even think about it." You gave a warning look to him, he had a teasing look in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to let the woman I love damage her hair like this when I'm taking care of her?"

“I'll get out."

“Well we wouldn't want that." You felt so peaceful while he continued washing your hair by the time he was completely finished you felt less robotic and more malleable. Finnick began scrubbing your body clean, who knew how long until you'd be able to do that again, if ever. You soaked up every moment in fear that it could be the last time you went through this routine. He made sure you were sufficiently soapy before rinsing you off and moving onto your face. You didn't even know the names of the various Capitol products, but he did it all with ease. It almost felt unnecessary, the size of your pores didn't matter when you were fighting for your life, but you let him continue. It was calming, made you feel loved, cared for.

“Thank you, Finnick." You said when he finished, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He nodded, “Go dry off, angel, I'll be out soon."

“Don't wanna leave you." Your arms wrapped around him once again as you shook your head.

He kissed the top of your head, “Okay, angel, just stand right there and look pretty.” You took a couple of steps back as he washed himself off too, far enough to avoid most of the residual water spray when he turned the water back to cold as he cleaned his face and hair. Soon enough he was shutting off the shower head and grabbing two towels. He grabbed your hand, helping you out of the shower. “I got this too, my love."

He tied his towel around his waist before he began to dry you off. You were easy to move as he dried your hair as much as he could before sitting you down on the edge of the tub to brush your teeth. It gave you flashbacks, once upon a time you'd been sat here in this exact bathroom, in the same position as he did the same thing for you. It solidified in your mind how you wouldn't be able to live without him, he knew what you needed more than you did. Maybe because he'd dealt with it all himself and no one to do it for him, but he was always there to force you out of bed, take care of yourself, make you eat a meal, go outside, and endless other things that could have slipped your mind in favor of endless sleep. When he was done with your teeth he once again helped you up to spit on the sink and let you lean into his side as he began brushing his own.

“Let's go get you dressed." Without a word he picked you up the moment he was done brushing and brought you back to the room. The clothes didn't matter much when soon enough Cambrie would have you dressed to enter the arena, but you let him dress you in whatever he picked. Once you were both dressed, be kneeled down at the edge of the bed. “How hungry are you?"

"Not really.” But you knew you'd have to eat, the possibility it could be days until you found food again wasn't slim.

"Come on, we're going to have to try to get something in you.” He went to pick you up again.

"You're really sweet, but I can walk.”

"Preserving your energy, angel.” He smirked and held you regardless to bring you out to the table. His chair pulled up right next to yours as he got you a little bit of everything, anything that could keep you full enough for a while in the arena. You ate slowly in a comfortable silence, savoring the food that you might never taste again. In your heart you knew it was the anxiety keeping you from hunger, but you pushed on out of the larger fear of starvation in the Games.

“Good job, angel." He said softly, at first you didn't know why, but then it hit you that he needed you to be properly nourished as a sign you cared about survival. He picked up a peach from a basket on the table and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully.

You'd only relish in its sweetness for a few bites before your designers entered the room.

“It's time to go." Cambrie already sounded weepy, but that wasn't why your heart stopped. Finnick grabbed your hands intently.

“You come find me right away and I'll find you. If anything happens, you scream for me and I'll follow your voice. Don't go trying to save anyone. Please, promise me that." He said soberly, eyes boring into yours to ensure you were fully committed.

"I promise, Finnick." He nodded slowly before wrapping his arms around yours and you melted as his arms got tighter, like he didn't want to let go. He reluctantly pulled away as the two of you stood, leaving the peach on the table. You grabbed his face, kissing him as deeply as you could and he instantly did the same. “I'll see you soon." You mumbled breathlessly.

“I love you so much, you deserve to live, remember that."

"I love you, Finnick.” He kissed you again before you both were forced to get on with it, to enter the arena where the unknown and uncertain lie.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the platform began to rise, taking one last look at your stylist Cambrie who gave you a sickly sweet smile, she was convinced you would win and talked non-stop about all the benefits she would get if you did. But as the sky came into view you weren't so sure, different advice Finnick had given echoed in your head. How you needed to make your allies trust you, allow your instincts to take over, not freeze, stay logical, be wary of the environment around you, and about feeling guilty later.

Wind hit your face as you rose from the ground, quickly taking note of the environment. There was no sun out, it was cloudy, the ground was extremely muddy where the grasses were, but large chunks of dirty water made up different portions of the area surrounding the Cornucopia. You tilted your head to the side where you could see certain areas had trees, none of which were very green. It was mainly a marshland you concluded with some swamps dispersed throughout. Backpacks of supplies and different weapons lay scattered around the Cornucopia where most of the bounty lay, your allies had already agreed to go for it first thing. Not to hesitate when the gong ran out and to protect each other if someone else tried to attack. You couldn't see Conway from where you stood, but Marlowe wasn't far away on your left, staring intently forward and Birch to your right was looking around like you were. Meeting eyes for a second he just nodded his head.

It felt like the longest minute of your life, but soon enough the last few seconds were on the clock and the adrenaline in your body preparing you to spring forward. There it was, the resounding gong, and you jumped forward. Eyes searching for the closest weapon to defend yourself with. There they were, glistening with water, a few small knives and you lunged for them.

Right as your hands grasped them someone tackled you from behind. You felt your ear wet with mud as you turned over under the body on top of you, slashing your knife into whatever was above you, whatever had hands trying to grasp around your neck. Something warm hit your face as the hands went limp. You wiped your eyes with one hand to see a girl, you were pretty sure she was from District 8 above you. You pulled the blade out, pushing her off of you before scrambling off the ground, grabbing the remainder of the knives. There wasn't time to feel bad, you needed to get to the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 10? 12? Everything was too blurry, you just needed to survive, to get to everyone else. The boy caught your eye, he had a machete and before he could even come towards you with it, one of the knives flew out of your hand straight into his skull. He fell backwards and your brain told you to grab the weapons, keep going. Some small voice told you to stop, how messed up this all was, but your instincts said otherwise.

You finally saw Conway, pulling a spear out of the girl from District 3 you were pretty sure. Suddenly Marlowe was in your view too, picking up a backpack.

“Here!" You heard your own voice, but it didn't feel real and tossed the machete to her which she grabbed with ease.

“Thanks." She said quickly, and then Birch came out of the Cornucopia, bloody hatchet in hand. He had a backpack on and was holding two other ones. Throwing one to you and then Conway.

“We should fill them with what we can find before we clear out.” He said gruffly and you all nodded. You decided to grab an extra backpack as you all walked towards the Cornucopia, grabbing small weapons on the way to fill the bags. Conway and Birch went deeper inside as you and Marlowe looked around, keeping defense.

Thinking about Districts didn't even matter anymore, you could take stock later, one of the boys came at Marlowe with a sickle. You threw a knife into his chest, he took a step back, giving Marlowe enough time to thrust the machete through him. She pulled it out and grabbed the knife for you too, tossing it at you with a nod.

“I think we've got what we need." Conway's voice filled the crisp air. You dumped one of the backpacks contents into the other one, tossing the empty one on the ground before sliding the other one on. Marlowe picked up an ax before muttering something in agreement. As the four of you exited the Career pack approached. The air was tense, but it didn't make you nervous. It would be four against four, there would be no point in attacking now.

All of you kept eye contact as you passed by each other, Birch giving a brisk nod that the boy from District 1, Otto you thought his name was, returned one. So you all walked into an area with more trees, leaving the other pack to whatever was left behind in the Cornucopia.

“Do you think the water’s safe to drink?" Birch asked, looking around at the areas around you.

“It's muddy, it would have to be purified at least." You answered, trying to rub off the mud you could feel drying on your face.

“Who knows what could be inside it." Marlowe remarked, some sort of mutt ready to attack.

“We should sit here and see what we have, make a plan on where to camp and how to hunt." Conway pointed at a clump of rocks. Everyone agreed, it couldn't have been more than an hour yet you were all exhausted. Time was a construct here, they could make it day or night whenever they pleased.

Conway had two spears, a mace, a net, a water bottle, a plastic cover for rain, and some sort of bug spray.

“Oh my god, there's going to be some sort of poisonous bug." Marlowe shook her head.

“Maybe we'll get some more, we'll all share and use it sparingly." Conway said, filling the bag back up. When Birch opened his, you realized the bags weren't the same. You'd expected them too, but there were variations.

“Let's see we've got a hatchet, a sword, a serrated chain, a box of matches, this super small bottle of iodine, a tarp, and a random coil of wire, which I don't think is useful to any of us. Good thing we grabbed more than one bag." He remarked, leaning back on the rock.

Marlowe emptied out hers putting her axe and machete to one side, “A sickle, an empty bottle of water, more bug spray, thankfully, another plastic cover for rain, and these weird glasses.” She played with them in her hands.

“They're for seeing in the dark." You said, hand burrowing in the moss on the rock. “Um I've the throwing knives, a dagger, dried fruit, another bottle of iodine, and an empty bottle of water-” You internally thanked yourself for grabbing two, "Rope, more matches, a compass, and this metal bowl."

Conway nodded, “If we come across any more backpacks we should take them too." What he really meant was if you came across someone to kill them and take their things, but he didn't dare state it aloud.

“We should set up some snares, we can start a fire on the rock, so get some firewood, and fill the water bottles we do have." Marlowe stood up, axe in hand.

“What if someone sees the smoke?" Birch asked, sliding a bit as he stood.

“Then there's four of us and one of them, the Careers won't attack us, not yet. We can use the wire for fish-hooks, see if there's any to catch. I'll make a fishing rod and we can use the net." You filled the bag back up and stood on the muddy ground.

Birch nodded, “Good thinking." He smiled, he had the type of smile that was so infectious it made the most mournful times somewhat happier.

“Let's put on some of the spray first." Conway pulled out the bottle, shaking it. Trying to use it sparsely, save it as long as possible. All of you stayed nearby, but still split for your tasks. You made some rods with stray branches, cut off some of the rope, and wire. Setting them into the mud, if there were some fish you'd set up the net wherever you camped for future meals. Conway had begun filling up the bottles you had and putting in the iodine to purify what you did have. Birch had decided he would set up some snares and borrowed your dagger in case there was something he could kill before it even hit the snares.

Marlowe got done with the firewood the quickest, saying how back in District 7 there were punishments if quotas weren't filled fast enough so she'd been forced to learn how fast she could chop wood since she was a child.

“Caught anything?" She asked, setting down the wood on a tarp to keep it dry.

You shook your head, “No, I'm too worried about whatever poisonous bugs might be here to dig for worms. If Birch catches anything I'll use part of it for bait, I might just throw the net in though."

"Here I found some crickets.” Conway came over, hands cupped.

"Are we sure they're not poisonous?” Marlowe asked as she began setting up the fire.

"Looks like plain old crickets to me.” Conway laughed, grabbing on the rods to stick them on the hooks. Slowly, but surely the fish began coming in. “I'll skin and you keep catching?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, “Sounds good to me." Marlowe had a fire started the moment everyone was ready, hours had passed by the time you'd caught a good enough share, skinned them, began to cook them, and Birch returned with some rabbits.

“We should eat here and then move to find a different camp before the sun goes down." Marlowe was helping Birch with the rabbits while you cleaned off the knives being used for each thing. You'd eaten much better than you'd expected too, trout and rabbit, plus having water. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you started. Immediately you began packing up camp, Conway filled up and purified the water bottles again before you all started trekking again. The temperature began to drop and the jacket stopped doing as much as it had been doing before, you all finally stopped at an area with more dense greenery and trees. Laying out the tarps and plastic covers to try for some warmth.

Then there the light was in the sky, time to find out which tributes were dead. Both tributes from District 3, the girl to Conway. You thought of that poor 13 year old boy's family watching their baby die and silently prayed he'd gone quick. No one from 1,2, or 4 which was unsurprising. Birch had killed the boy from 5 and the boy from 6 is the one who'd tried coming at you and Marlowe. That was the female tributes from 5 and 6 still alive plus both District 7 tributes, since they were both with you. The girl from 8 was you, but the male tribute was also dead, probably from one of the Career’s. Both from 9 were dead, both from 10 probably even more from the Careers. 11 was still alive, but you were right about thinking the boy who was going to attack you was from 12, his district partner survived though. 13 tributes left, 11 dead in one day.

Everyone was quiet, solemn. “I'll take first watch." Your shaky voice cut through the night air, after the silence had almost become unbearable.

“Me too." Conway's arms were around your shoulders, he wasn't particularly warm, but it was better than sitting alone. Birch and Marlowe agreed, laying down to get some sleep. You stared at the night sky, there were very few stars in the sky even if you knew they were artificial, it made you even more upset. Nothing would beat the feeling of you and Finnick sitting on the beach at night, staring at the stars over the glistening water as his warmth surrounded you like some sort of shield.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm just going to miss you so much!" Cambrie was bawling onto your shoulder. The Capitol woman who's whole life was ahead of her was crying to you, the one about to be sent to a battle of the death. “I'm going to dedicate a whole fashion line to you, it'll be such a hit." She meant well, she really did and that's what you reminded yourself.

“Including the wedding dress?" If anything it made you want to cry more thinking about how this poor, misguided woman still cared about you so much.

“Oh yes. With a train like you're walking on water and sea foam." She pulled away to blow her nose. “You just have to come back, gorgeous, I'll literally die without you." Ironic. “Maybe they'll be a hologram or something, won't be as good as the real thing, but you're my muse." The sickening part was definitely back, but she raised to be shallow so she was. A voice echoed around the room indicating your need to get on the platform. You hugged her one last time and she kissed you on the cheek, probably leaving trails of pink glitter but at least it was a proper goodbye.

“Thank you, Cambrie. I couldn't have asked for a better designer." You walked over to the platform that closed around you, giving her a soft smile as he waved a goodbye, tears streaking down her slightly purple tinted skin.

Your foot tapped nervously on the platform and you hoped that at the very least it wouldn't be a cold arena. You began moving up, sun, you could see sunlight, that was good, at least you'd have sunshine. The smell of salt air hit your nostrils and it shocked you, a smell you were pretty sure would be left at home was right here. If you died, you'd die knowing that wasn't the last time you were one with the salty waters. When you were finally all the way up you looked around anxiously, it was water, clear, seawater you had to swim to get to the Cornucopia or the rows of rocks that you could walk on. Jungle was on the other side of the beaches, but there were beaches that felt almost too good to be true, like it was perfect for District 4. The sun cut in the way of your vision making it nearly impossible to make out faces, but you couldn't find Finnick. You took some deep breaths, preparing to dive the moment the gong rang out. He'd go straight to the Cornucopia and try to find Katniss so you'd do the same.

The instant the gong let out you'd dived in, having eyed the nearest part of land so you could try and make the quickest swim there. It didn't take long and you were hoisting yourself on the rocks. Running forwards to the shiny structure where he had to be. A hand from the side grabbed your leg and you tried to kick it off, “Finnick!" You shouted as the person attached to the hand emerged from the side of the rocks, pulling you down. He was from District 9, a lot older, but he was still much stronger. Brute strength had never been on yours side, but you could tell it was on his. “Finnick, Finnick!" You screamed, trying to kick the man off of his. His hands grabbed your shoulders harshly before punishing them back, head roughly hitting the rocks. It was dizzying, your head felt like it was literally spinning and your nose made it feel like you were drowning. Hands flew up, your vision was somewhat blurry, but last time you'd been in this position you'd taken out Conway’s eye. Even if that kept you up at night, you could do it again. “Finnick!" Scratching at the man's face seemed to be doing very little besides delaying him as he tried to bat away your hands. Then he was coughing, sputtering blood all over your face the shock he seemed to be going through gave you an opportunity to kick him off of you, his weight on you made it a struggle but the adrenaline forced you to persist. He fell flat when you did escape and then you saw the axe in his back. You looked up, Johanna was headed your way.

You wanted to say thank you, but you felt somewhat frozen, your mouth tasted like iron, and she was somewhat blurry. “He's over in the Cornucopia, with Katniss." She said, tearing her ax out of the man’s back. Her eyes found Wiress and she went to get her, mostly because according to Haymitch it was her way in with Katniss, she'd only take Johanna if she'd saved who Katniss wanted.

Your hands went to wipe your face and there was more blood on your hands then anticipated then it hit you that your nose was bleeding, the shock hadn't allowed you to initially realize, but you probably looked like a mess of free falling blood. “Finnick!" You yelled, your head ached as you kept running forward. Through the ringing that had begun in your ears you could faintly hear your name being called. You finally caught sight of him running towards you, a seemingly reluctant Katniss behind him.

“What happened?" He asked, wiping some of the blood off of your face.

“Nine, Johanna just saved my life." Your mouth felt like it was filling with the blood as you wiped your face again.

“Well, I'll have to thank her sometime." Finnick smiled even though you could tell he was still concerned, so were you, the pounding in your head still hadn't gone away. “Here." He slid three small knives into your palm, “Grabbed them when I was in there for you, angel."

“Thank you." He quickly kissed you, getting his own lips getting smeared with blood. There were no complaints as he wiped it off and turned back to Katniss.

“Peeta! Peeta!" She was looking around frantically.

“Found him! Over here!" Finnick shouted, handing you his trident as he dived into the waters where Peeta was struggling to stay afloat. Katniss ran over as Finnick brought Peeta back to the shore.

“Peeta!" She helped pull him up and you all paused a moment as he gained balance. You handed Finnick back his trident. The ebbing pain in your head was finally seeming to lessen.

“Let's head out this way." Finnick said, arm around you as he began walking forward. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, and Enobaria continued on with their Bloodbath as your group made its way onto the beach and into the jungle. There were no supplies waiting around this time, you supposed they weren't intending for this to be a long enough game to need a survival kit just weapons. It felt safer though, you had Finnick, warm, protective, hovering Finnick. There would be no need to imagine the times you had with him when he was right there even if the plan was dangerous enough to get you both executed regardless of what happened in the arena.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading I was so excited to write this one, but I've been pretty busy so it took me a while to get finished but I'm so glad I did. thank you all for the feedback and support, if you enjoyed it let me know comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated and my ask box is always open. 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #thg #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x you

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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We know Konig is more soft on women, but is it all women in general? For example, if some girl was hitting on him, would he be rough with her? Would he ever kill a woman? (if he's on the battlefield - I'm guessing he would if he had to). Is he chivalrous to all women or just his partner?

Yes, König is absolutely super soft to all women in general 🌸

The thing is, women are an exception, a beautiful, pure anomaly in König's worldview. He both worships them and views them as fragile. Women need to be protected from all harm. And at the same time... König goes feral every time he gets to taste and touch and fu–ahem, make love to a woman.

CW: Toxic!König. Sexism. Mentions of canon-typical violence and PTSD. Freudian madness.

Something just snaps, and he doesn't want to hurt his Engel... but he's a bit ADHD, and far too needy, goes a bit crazy every time he sees her. Women's soft skin and plump breasts and hot, wet, silky folds drive him insane. He just wants to drown himself in a woman, hide somewhere deep, somewhere safe, but can't because he's so big and has to act all tough. If he could, if only he was allowed, he would fall asleep every night with his cock buried inside that beautiful, warm, velvet softness.

So König's deeply embedded insecurity and attempts to seek safety are a combination that make him a little unhinged when it comes to women. That's why he can never get enough 😔 Also this man's horrible childhood has made him an adrenaline addict. Chaos is what he's used to, it feels familiar, so there's a risk that König might never settle into safety even if he finds it. He needs a high (which means he needs to kill and he needs sex.)

Female operators are skilled and tough in his eyes, and he trusts their abilities (kind of), but he would always keep a silent lookout, and try to keep them safe. Even if those women looked at him like he's a weirdo. He would always choose to help a woman over helping a man. Men can and have to survive on their own if a lady is in trouble. I know this wasn't asked but He would also never, ever hurt children.

If a woman tried to kill him (on the battlefield) he would be very professional about it. He wouldn't find joy in the killing, though. As odd as it may sound, König would prefer shooting to stabbing when it comes to neutralizing a female target. He wouldn't want to prolong their deaths, and it would make him extremely uncomfortable to knife a woman down. If he has to, he will do it, but the kill would be as quick and clean as possible.

The ones König has killed linger on the precipice of his mind as precious memories, sick fantasies made real. But the women he kills haunt him forever: those deaths sometimes give him nightmares. Especially if they brought even the tiniest bit of satisfaction...

...Because König does go into a mode when he's left with a firearm. He's so excited he sometimes drops mags simply because he's so enthusiastic. Thrill and anxiety mix when he's working, and he feels absolutely marvelous every time he fires a gun and gets to announce "Target down" in the comms. Better yet if he can go on a spree and destroy a whole room full of villains. Noticing later that one or some of them were women would give him a cold feeling in the gut and leave him with a worsening PTSD.

If a woman was violent in other circumstances, meaning outside work/warfare, he would simply seize them as gently and firmly as he can and try to calm them down. König thinks hitting women is just wrong. Even if they were trying to hit him (hitting on, as in flirting with him, now that's a different thing hehe. Not sure if this is what you asked, if so let me know!). It's unmanly and cowardly, and he would kill any guy who hits women, and kill them without mercy.

König's traumatic childhood has put him on a knight's quest to protect all women and children from harm. His mother has greatly influenced the way he sees women overall. At the end of the day, they're creatures who don't know how to defend themselves so he needs to save them.

But then again... These 'Knight in Shining Armor' fantasies should be taken with a grain of salt.

Because seeing a woman under him in a helpless state, looking back at him with cute, wet eyes while he's lodged deep inside is the best thing in the world in König's opinion. He would never deliberately go and hurt a woman... But why then does it feel so good when Engel squeals every time he goes a little too deep? (Always on accident, of course.)

#answered #könig headcanons #yandere könig #könig x reader #toxic könig discourse will singlehandedly deny my access to heaven i just know it #i shall never see the pearly gates

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #yoko ono #linda eastman #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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teledild0nix · 4 months

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what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

#drarry fic rec #apliddell #my mutuals are very talented #it's so cool to like. spend time around people whose art you enjoy #it's like. inspiring!!!

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kazehita · 1 month

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hi! i noticed your recent post recommending the fic natural satellite and i think i've noticed other isat fics around your blog too. because of that, i was wondering if you had a list of recommended isat fics! i will admit i am not someone who just peruses around on ao3 but i love reading about these characters so if you have any recs, i would greatly appreciate them! thanks and i hope you have a lovely day :3

I love ALL isat fic - each and every one is so special and wonderful - but if I listed the whole archive that wouldn't really help huh... So! Im going to list just some off the top of my head., this is in no way definitive. Isat spoilers ahead - get all the way through the game and the secret before proceeding.

Big recommendation list below:

Additionally, mind the tags for each fic - I wont be specifying the content warnings here.

(don't just read the complete ones!!! Incomplete fic is just as delightful I promise :3)

Complete: Bloom - Level99Eevee Most people know it, it sits at the top of the tag! It's my every wish fulfilled for post-cannon moments.

Memories of defeat - dirtbagtrashcat Stuff in and immediately after the loops, fantastic extrapolations!!!! Very much Loop <33 I find this very grounded and realistic!!!!

Emotion Sickness - dirtbagtrashcat Post cannon fun/trauma with siffrin and the gang.

Memories of Touch - dirtbagtrashcat look i just really like their work sjkdjkfjkasdf its all good go through their profile. This is Isa thoughts.

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? - rabbit_soup Post-game! I love how they flesh out the world.

The Understudy - kittyorange Suuuuch a loop fic I love it to bits. Post cannon loop and the gang stuff.

Star-Speckled Skin - Lora_Blackmane Funn angsty moment, title is very descriptive. Lives in my head rent free.

Clinging to dying embers - Coffeewolf67 Odile's perspective of sif using the dagger. appropriate content warnings apply :)

between the end and a new start - glowingjellyfishtreelights SICKFICCC I had a very funny experience with this one where due to memory mishaps I got to read it for the first time twice! Absolute banger.

What's in a name? - Raaj Explores siffrins love of plays. I have to regularly reread this for my brain to function.

Starstruck - Dusk_Illusionist Isa yearns. The fic. It rocks.

Saturn Devouring His Son (Time Choking on Stone Choking on Blood)- BasilPaste Post cannon moment... I like it...

(Why) you can't let them know by Mayasynth sasasap fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i like it. i hold it. i like it. UGH theres more but I have already listed so many.. my other favorites... im so sorry.,.. i love you guys too... Incomplete:

How To Rest by rabbit_soup Sequel to "And if i were not myself, would this be easier?" Loop is here and I love violence.

TRY IT AGAIN, CHEATER! by discatded "[Loop returns to their own universe after everything. It's hard.]" - from the summary. Love it love it. I will never get enough of this premise.

To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above by Cinnamin_Is_a_Star "Sif if he was team rocket" and is so fun. Very excited to see this one pan out!

until we move on. by Anonymous (also known as lozy) LOOP MY BELOVED..! loop returns to their universe and promptly looses it like the universe intended. Cant get enough of it.

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat If a single fic makes me the Most insane its natural satellite if I'm honest.... like bro... It just gets right to me...

Sunder by Miranda_tries_their_best Post-cannon Loop fic!! They travel on their own for a bit (but not forever), and I love it dearly.

Face the Light by Kaimiiru Post-game, I hold it close to my heart.... Ah... It's so dear to me.

These next two are sloop so if that's not your thing you have been warned :]

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac I'm holding this high above my head so everyone can see it the characterization is off the charts.

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art Changeling Loop fic!! What a fun concept. I am excited to see where it goes. yay! AGAIN... THERE ARE SO MANY I LOVE SO MUCH but im forcing myself not to look through the tag else I'd add everything. Honestly, I do recommend just launching right on into the ao3 tag for ISAT even if you aren't super familiar with ao3. Just be sure to filter out anything you don't want to see!

Consider this a good starting point ^^

#asks #del-phi-nium #kaze speaks #isat spoilers #oh boy 12am /joke #uh i hope this is helpful. lemme know if any of these links are broken i didnt check any of them.#i think all these are viewable w/o an account also #if anyone finds this useful do let me know i'd love to hear #isat

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redlittlefoxari · 5 months

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Astrion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making a Life

Chapter Six: On the road with secrets

Summary: The Party gets suspicious when Tav suddenly starts having morning sickness. Tav and Astsrion try to explain the sickness without giving away that Tav is Seven Weeks pregnant.

Warnings: NSFW+18, smut, pregnancy, blood, violence, fluff, angst.

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate) Karlach (Baldur's Gate)Gale (Baldur's Gate) Wyll (Baldur's Gate) Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate) Tav (Baldur's Gate) Jaheira (Baldur's Gate) Halsin(Baldur's Gate)

Master List

Seven weeks pregnant

It had been a week since you started the journey to water deep, and today was the worst day. You awoke to your stomach reeling and barely made out your tent flaps before last night's dinner made its way up your throat and lips. You spent several moments heaving up the dinner Astarion made for you. The red contents thankfully looked like wine and not the blood mixed with cherry juice you had last night. You prayed that your friends would think you had too much wine last night and not question you much about your morning sickness.

Astarion emerged from the tent in the middle of your heaving and rubbed small circles around your back in soothing comfort. There wasn't much he could do for you now but give you some form of comfort until this passed.

At the commotion, the others started to stir from their tents and eyed the two of you with worry. Shadowhearts eyebrow was raised in suspicion a question forming in her mind. You weren't seen with any alcohol last night and had refused when she offered you a drink of her stash last night, claiming you brought your own. By the look on her face, you gaged that she was playing back the night's events in her mind.

"You know how it is, Shadowheart?" Astarion was quick: "One too many glasses of wine and a night of passion upsets the stomach after."

You let out a huff of air and whipped your lips. Your mouth tasted like cherries and blood. Cherry juice had the same metallic taste of blood but cut with an edge of sweetness that you have been craving this pregnancy. You still ate other foods because Astarion wouldn't let you eat cake and other sweet confections, but they were still what you craved the most.

"Yup… Just too much good wine and… passion." You gave Astarion a sideways glare. Did he have to add the passion part? You just got back a sly smile as a response.

"What vintage was it?"

"What?" You weren't expecting to get interrogated.

"I want to get a bottle when we return to the city. If it did that to you, I'm sure it's robust." She started to close the distance, avoiding the puddle you made.

"I don't remember… I was really drunk by the time…"

"Where is the bottle that will tell us." She looked over your shoulder.

"Do you think this is the time to question her about wine?" Karlach stepped in to save you. "She just got sick all over herself, and you're more worried about the vintage so you can get drunk better? You need to check yourself into a program, I swear."

Gods, you loved this big beautiful teifling. Shadowheart was right to be suspicious, but Astarion and you agreed that you wouldn't tell you about the pregnancy until you hit the second trimester at fourteen weeks. The perfect timing for the party. You would party to celebrate Gale, and then after the celebration, when everything would die down, and the rest of the guests would leave. It was just you, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion; you would tell them the good news. But for now, too many things could go wrong. There were too many unknowns; it was better to keep it under wraps for now, lying when you needed to.

"I don't have a problem. I didn't see her drinking last night." Shadowhert turned to face Karlach, who had a good two feet on her.

"Their tent has flaps, so unless you can peer through solid objects, my guess is that she drank the wine behind it. Now, can we get a move on? We'er burring daylight." Karlach turned to hers and Wyll's tent to start packing it away.

"If we find the bottle or remember the vintage, we will be sure to let you know, Shadowheart," Astarion said with a cool bit of ice in his words.

"I'm sure you will… feel better. We have a long journey today." With that, shadowheart walked away to her own tent.

"She was always suspicious." Astarion's eyes bore into the back of her head.

"She was trained too; let's just pack up and get ready to leave; hopefully, when we get onto the road, they will forget about this, and next time I have morning sickness, I'll try to throw up more quietly and in the bushes." You turned and walked into your tent with Astarion at your heels.

"She's like a dog with a bone. She won't let this go, but when we stop in the next town, we can slip away and buy some bottles of wine. That may sway her. She can't see us buy them." You nodded at his words. It might work.

"Okay, we'll do that in the next town, but that's still fifteen days away. What do we do if I get sick before then?" Your question hung in the air for a few seconds.

"Food poisoning?" He shrugged. "We are cooking everything over a fire on sticks found in the woods. Who knows what things are on them."

"Okay, we'll go with that for now, but we need to think of something else." You gave him a light kiss on his lips, not wanting him to taste too much of what you regurgitated.

Before you could pull away, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, causing you to gasp, allowing him to pull you into a complex, demanding kiss that searched your mouth with his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as the feel of him inside your mouth awoke something in you that you didn't know you could feel after throwing up everything in your stomach.

Astarion ended the kiss and placed the hand that wasn't around your wrist so that it cupped your face on one side. "I would kiss you even if you tasted like garlic, and it would burn me from the inside out. Never think I wouldn't want to kiss you like that for a moment."

Your cheeks felt hot at his decoration of love and devotion. You knew he felt that way, but this baby made your emotions go haywire. Mood swings were becoming more familiar to you, and it didn't help that something was getting bigger every time you looked in the mirror. Your hips were fuller, your breasts bigger, and it was getting more and more challenging to get into your armor by the day. You were feeling insecure about everything that made you who you are.

"I know it's just… This baby is changing me, and whenever I look in the mirror, I see a different person." You looked away from his pricing stare, his red eyes seeming like they were looking into your soul.

"You know what I see when I look at you?" He pulled your gaze back towards his eyes. "I see the beautiful woman who is carrying my child inside her, and whenever I look at you, I have to fight every fiber of my being not to rip your clothes off and have you in front of the gods and everyone." You placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen besides myself."

You snorted a laugh and were fighting back tears.

"But you are even before me." His hand moved from your wrist to your belly. "This is a gift, making you more beautiful by the day, my love."

"Thank you, Astarion." You rubbed tears out of your eyes.

"Don't thank me for telling you the truth. Now, let's get you something to eat before we start packing up and leaving. We can't have you starving." Astarion gave you one more kiss, choosing to place it on your forehead before he turned to his pack and pulled out a jar of chilled blood mixed with some cherry juice. The jars were wrapped in cloths woven in frost giant hair that radiated cold energy, keeping whatever was wrapped in them cold and thus significantly increasing the time things could be kept.

"This was such a clever idea. We should paton this and sell it around Baldur's Gate. We could be rich." Astarion handed you your jar.

"It just came to me one day. If we did sell this, we would probably never have to go on another adventure again. We could buy a big house in the upper city and raise our child." You slowly sipped your breakfast, fearing that it would come up to greet you again if you didn't pace yourself.

"Now that does sound nice." Astarion grabbed a jar of blood for himself and began doing the same. The both of you are thinking of the future that you would share with your selves and your unborn child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, your feet felt beyond swollen. Twenty-four miles later, you finally reached the ruins that would be your campsite for the night. They were of an old temple to a god long past dead and gone, but the centuries still held many secrets. The stones were crumbling, but they would make do for just one night as the likelihood of the whole thing collapsing was a slim possibility.

"Are you doing alright?" You heard Wyll's voice as you stopped just before the entrance of the ruins to take off your boots and rub your tired feet.

"Oh yeah, I'm doing fine; it's been a while since I walked this much. My feet seemed to have lost their natural calluses." You plastered a smile on your face, hoping it would convince him of your authenticity.

"I know what you mean; Karlach and I have slowed down during the years. We still go out on adventures, but for the most part, we try to stay home and relax." Wyll returned your smile with one of his own.

The two of you chatted while the others made their way farther along the trail leading to the ruins. Karlach and Astarion were deep in conversation about the many things they had been up to and the beasts they had slain over the last fifty years. Time moved differently in the hells than it did on this plain, so there was a lot to talk about and catch up with.

Shadowheart just listened and made comments every once in a great while. You knew that what happened this morning was still bawling at her. She knew something was up, and it wasn't that you got so drunk that you made yourself sick. You just hoped that she would respect your privacy and not investigate the subject any further. You were leaning towards her doing as when she had her secrets about Shar and the prism when you first met; you didn't pepper her with questions. You let her open up to you in her own time, and she respected you for it. She would give you the same courtesy you had hoped for.

"We should probably catch back up to the others." You slipped your boots back on and got up from the log, shouldering your pack once again as you started to make your way to where the others were.

"Right, I'm ready to make camp for the night and sleep! I'm getting too old for this." Wyll did the same and joined you.

"Nonsense, I think you have another forty years of adventuring left!" The two of you laughed.

"Gods, I hope not. I want to buy some land outside the city and just live."

The way Wyll spoke made you think of your plans. You resisted the urge to place your hand on your stomach. They would be a dead giveaway, and as far as your friends knew, you didn't want to have children and couldn't as long as Astarion was your partner. So, no one talked of children; none of you currently have children. At least none that you knew of.

You didn't hear the arrows as they came towards you. Still, you felt the impact as they embedded themselves in your shoulder and stomach. They sent you careening toward the ground. Your back hit the ground, and you heard Astarion scream your name, terror in his voice.

Bandits surrounded you and Wyll. Five of them total were probably there to see if they could find the secrets of the ruins and thought your little group was too. So they were going to take care of you. That way, they didn't need to share.

Wyll produced his rapier and put it through the heart of one of the bandits. At the same time, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion raced to where the two of you were located. You slowly made your way up from prone, your shoulder throbbing in pain from the arrow protruding out from it. You looked for an opening to run; you were skilled with a bow, and close combat was not your strongest skill. You saw an opening between Wyll and the bandit he downed and dashed beyond them.

Astarion made quick work of one bandit ripping the throat and sucking him dry of blood. Crimson dripped from his chin, and he was a sight to behold. Red eyes seemed to glow as he locked eyes with you and motioned for you to run.

You gave him a nod; as you turned your back, holding your shoulder, you heard a familiar spell being cast. Hail of thorns. This time, you listened to the hundreds of thorns coming towards you. It seemed that your running away made you the prime target since you were not paying attention to anyone and would be the most distracted. You braced yourself for the impact of the thorns, but they never came when you turned to see why Astarion was shielding you with his body.

You heard a wet crunch as Karlach Sliced the last bandit with her great axe, and the others came towards you and Astarion. He looked like a porcupine. Long thorns were jutting out from his back, but he didn't seem to notice as he touched you all over.

"Are you alright?" He touched the arrow that was embedded in your stomach, a look of terror etched on his face.

"I don't know…" You knew what you looked like. Scared, the two of you had no way of knowing what was going on inside you or if your child was okay. Fear gripped your heart, and you tried not to cry.

"The two of you look alright to me." Shadowheart looked confused at your words. "Let's get these arrows and thorns out of the two of you, and I'll heal you. It will be like that never happened."

The two of you ignored her and just stared into each other's eyes. You were frozen with fear. Astarion placed his hand on your stomach, making it look like he would pull the arrow free, but he was looking for any sign. Anything that would let him know that the baby was okay that they were alive and well, and the arrow missed him.

There was nothing, and you saw a look pass across his face. He schooled his features, and you could tell that he was trying to concentrate on something. "I hear it…. I hear their heartbeat." He spoke at a volume that was barely a whisper. "I hear the heartbeat."

The tears that you were holding back free from your eyes, and you couldn't make them stop. Astarion pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your forehead. The fear that gripped your heart released, and you grabbed the arrow, pulling it from your body but to have an excuse to hold your stomach.

The other three exchanged a look of confusion. "The two of you have gotten into worse scraps than that…. I do not see how this is getting such a reaction." Karlach spoke, her voice edged with worry.

"Yes, well, we always do this when the other gets hurt. Plus, I needed to find out what those arrows were tipped with. I had to give her a full examination."

Astarion's statement didn't do much to quell their confusion, but they couldn't argue with it very much either. He allowed Shadowheart to pull the needles out only after she healed you first. She did so, and then you and she pulled the hundreds of pins out individually.

By the time the five of you made camp, the night was falling, and you forgot the tents and instead decided to sleep on the ground since the ruins provided enough cover. The rest of the night was quiet as the others gave you and Astarion a wide berth, not sure what to say after yours and Astarion's weird reaction to you getting shot earlier.

"That was too close." Astarion came and sat beside you.

"I know, but we couldn't have known they would attack."

"We should have assumed someone was here. This place…. It attracts people like that." You took Astarion's hand.

"We'll just have to assume that from now on. We got too comfortable around friends." You looked at the others in the camp, and they all looked away from you, trying to look casual, like they weren't just watching the two of you.

"I swear these people are so nosy."

"They are concerned that our reactions today were a bit weird for someone who doesn't know what's happening." You looked back to Astarion. "They just care about us."

*tisk* Astarion clicked his tongue. "All this love is making me queasy." He stood up. "Let's go to bed before I get sick."

You rolled your eyes and took his hand. The two of you made your way back to camp. You pulled a jar of your "wine" from your bag and took a long drag off it so Shadowheart would see. Earlier that day, you snuck over to her tent and found an empty bottle of wine. You quickly snatched it and poured your "wine" into the bottle. She gave you a nod.

"Glad you're feeling better." She closed the distance. "If you need to talk to someone about anything, don't hesitate." She gave your hand a quick squeeze. "You helped me get free of Shar and helped me find out who I really was. I will help you through anything. You are my friend."

"I know, and when I'm ready to talk, I will, but now is not the right time." You said as you returned her smile.

She nodded at your words and looked towards Astarion. "Until you are ready as well."

"I'll be sure to let you know when I'm ready to braid each other's hair and trade this tale, but my lips are sealed for now."

Shadowheart gave your hand one last squeeze and walked to her bed roll. You and Astarion did the same, lying beside each other with your hands on your stomachs under the covers where the others couldn't see.

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pimosworld · 2 months

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Unrequited

Pairing- Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary- Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,NSFW,MDNI, Angst, hurt/comfort, lovers to enemies to friends, friends to lovers, PTSD, mentions of addiction, therapy,canon typical violence, depression, anxiety, smut, m/m, m/m/f, eventual poly relationship, alcohol consumption,infidelity, unprotected piv,oral f receiving, oral m receiving, marriage proposals)

WC-5.2k

A/N- I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I’m just going to apologize now for the angst but it will get better…eventually. Happy Frankie Friday. @triplefrontier-anniversary

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 1 Love sick

adjective: love-sick

in love, or missing the person one loves, so much that one is unable to act normally.

Frankie hates how everything feels the same. When the wheels touched down and he exited the plane, it smelled the same. All of his favorite places to eat, the usual stores, the same amount of unbearable traffic. He wanted this to feel different when he returned home. Like he expected his friends and him to be waiting at the airport to greet him with open arms. Like they would roll out the red carpet for him because they all missed him so much. How could he expect that when he couldn’t bother to tell anyone he was still alive let alone returning home? That’s like expecting to win the lottery but never playing. That delusional part of your brain where you imagine how you would spend the money and how you wouldn’t tell anyone.

He’s home now.

The bile starts to rise up in his throat as he approaches the neighborhood he was going to spend the rest of his life in. He was going to live a peaceful, quiet life with him. After Colombia they would have enough money to do whatever they wanted. Relax and finally work out some of that trauma from their shared experiences in the military. He supposed everyone did settle down anyway. What choice did they have after coming back with practically nothing. He heard Will eventually got married and Benny took what little money he had and opened up a boxing gym. Santi-

How was he supposed to return to this life with him after everything that happened in Colombia. Santiago finally gave him everything he wanted on a silver platter, everything Frankie had been asking of him for years. Love me out in the open, Love me out loud, Love me without fear or consequence of failure. So he did. He finally told him ‘after this, no more playing games. We do this for real or not at all, I'm all in if you are.’

His response was to flee. One month turned into six, six months turned into a year. Now three years later he’s coming back to the man he broke and he’s not sure what he’s expecting but it’s making him nearly break out in hives. The outside of the house looks a little different but he can’t put his finger on why. It’s brighter and somehow cleaner. Maybe Santiago had it painted recently. He huffs his bag out of the cab suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier than any pack he’s carried through the jungle with rain soaked clothes all the way down to his socks.

The bench is still there on the front porch that Frankie found at a garage sale. The first piece of furniture that graced the home they picked out together.Frankie told the guys it would be easier if they bought it together. He’s not sure who he thought he was fooling but it certainly wasn’t Benny and Will. Tom didn’t give a shit, he was such a cheap bastard he truly believed they would buy a house together to save money. Another example of Santiago going along with whatever Frankie said as long as he got to call it theirs.

His hands are sweaty and his arms are shaky as he raises them up to knock on the door. Santiago hated doorbells, such a weird quirky thing he never explained makes him laugh now, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. He waits…an uncomfortable amount of time before he thinks he could just turn around and act like he was never here until the door flies open.

You’re standing there practically beaming at him, he’s sure he’s got the most dumbfounded look on his face as he takes you in. You’re adorable as you lean against the door frame in a pair of leggings and a shirt he sort of recognizes, waiting for him to say something. Maybe he has the wrong house and you’re just sparing him the embarrassment. He’s completely bewildered when you surge forward and wrap your some around his middle, he instinctively despite you being a complete stranger embraces your hug. You’re like liquid in his arms as you press your chest to his and he can feel something awaken in him. The amount of warm bodies he found himself under or on top of over the years couldn’t compare to this consuming feeling. The worst part is how innocent you seem and how his thoughts are nothing but. He can smell you, a hint of orange and peach. Body wash, shampoo or perfume he doesn’t really care at the moment.

You mumble something that’s inaudible as you pull back and look at him, something sparkling in your eyes. “I was beginning to think you were like bigfoot, or the Easter bunny…or maybe even Santa Claus.” You giggle and it’s something else he has to add to the list. “Forgive me…it’s nice to meet you Francisco.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend.” That voice. The low sultry voice he’s sure he could never forget, not even if he tried. Frankie cried the day his phone was smashed and the voicemail Santi had left for him was lost forever. The last one he left, begging for him to come back, to come home. “Sorry she’s a hugger.” You sheepishly extract yourself from him as his body goes taut.

Santi steps up behind you, protectively and it cuts like a knife. His hand starts at the small of your back and wraps around to your front as he pulls you into his chest. You preen at the touch as you lean against him, kissing the dark stubble on his cheek. Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the fire in your boyfriend's eyes, a threatening stare that was usually only reserved for his enemies. He can see it then, shrouded in hurt and anger. She’s mine. Santiago won’t let him hurt you the way he was hurt. Thrown away and cast aside. That’s how Frankie thinks he’d paint the picture but that’s far from the truth. He was sparing him a lifetime of disappointment.

The feelings he had for you are going up in gray smoke like water doused onto a fire. This is a dangerous feeling, seeing you in his place. It’s not your fault at all that you met Santiago and walked into years of love,torment and jealousy. Frankie can tell how blindly you love Santiago, the way he loved Frankie all those years. He would lay down on a live wire for him, take a bullet for him, take public scrutiny and throw away his family’s judgmental stares for him. Being that vulnerable only puts you in danger.

“Invite him in silly.” You nudge Santi and he barely budges as he scoops up Frankie’s bag and slings it over his shoulder. You yelp as he pats you on the ass to coax you inside.

“Come on in Frank, make yourself at home.” His voice is raw and open, like Frankie’s heart. He grinds his teeth at the name he hates and the implication of home. But he deserves that. Santi is going to make him hurt.

****

The house looks relatively the same on the inside.

Some extra plants and a bookshelf, the distinct smell of lavender and vanilla are the only differences. He wishes it wouldn’t look the same, like everything else. It was like he never left, the same couch they used to spend late nights on, watching the same tv that sits in the corner. The same dining table that they would eat breakfast before going to work and dinner after a long day.

“I’m gonna make some cookies, since it’s a special occasion.” You wink at him and start moving around his kitchen like you know everything. The oven is preheated and you're mixing something into a bowl before he can blink. Humming some tune he’s sure he’s heard as he realizes the shirt you’re wearing is Santi’s favorite.

Santi slides up behind you kissing your neck. “Sounds like a good idea baby.” You glance up at Frankie looking a little bashful as you narrow your eyes at Santi.

“Why don’t you go put your stuff down in the spare bedroom.” Santi doesn’t move and that annoys him even more. He doesn’t have to show him where the room is because this used to be his house, still is technically. He stomps down the hall glaring at some artwork and photos he’s never seen. Stopping in his tracks when he sees a photo of the five of them in Delta. A stupid grin on Santi’s face because Frankie’s grabbing his ass while the photo is being taken. The younger faces of the Miller brothers and Tom.

He stops again when he sees the bedroom they used to share. Nothing much has changed about that either. The bedspread and the ungodly amount of pillows maybe…hopefully the mattress.

He sets his bag down against the wall and opens the window to let some air in. It’s stale and muggy so he shuts it immediately. He can still smell you on him and it’s driving him nuts. He got a whiff of Santi’s cologne during the brief greeting. That was different. He stopped wearing the one Frankie bought him on a mission in Morocco. Santi hadn’t so much as touched him during their hello and he’s not sure if that hurts worse than being able to hold him.

His body eases into the queen mattress as he leans back against the pillows. It’s much more comfortable than the previous one. Frankie never cared about the comfort of others and they argued about it. "It's just a spare bed, what's the problem?” Santiago would roll his eyes and he wanted to kiss that smug look off his face. ‘Our guests should be comfortable too.” He didn’t think they would ever have guests staying in their home other than Benny or Will and those bastards didn’t need a four star plush hotel stay. Now he’s a guest, in his own home and he hates how comfortable he is.

He’s exhausted…mentally, physically, emotionally. Too fatigued to even stand and turn on the ceiling fan that he’s staring at. He’s just starting to close his eyes when he hears a soft rap on the door. He sighs out in frustration, he needs a break from you right now, you’re too perfect and he’s too broken so he just needs a moment. He goes to protest when the door opens but it’s not you who greets him.

Santiago stands in the doorway with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. He looks as though he’s approaching a wild animal in a cage with their favorite treat to calm them down just before they tranquilize them. Frankie sits up as he steps into the room and sets the items down on the bedside table.

“They’re still hot.” His tone is warning like he knows Frankie is going to shove one whole in his mouth the moment he leaves the room and then complain that it burned his tongue.

Frankie wants to say something but now doesn’t feel right. His tongue is heavy like lead in his mouth and his eyes can’t quite possibly say all that he wants to. I love you, I’m sorry. “You look good.” It’s weak, Santiago knows it as he huffs out a laugh.

“You look tired.” It’s said more of a truth than an insult. He’s sad when he looks at him like someone he used to know. Frankie probably hasn’t had a good night's sleep in three years and that is Santi’s only consolation prize. He got a broken heart and Frankie got perpetual insomnia. “You can stay as long as you want Fish…dinner will be ready in an hour.” Santi exits the bedroom, closing the door softly, leaving his new cologne in the omnium of your scent that clings to him.

As long as he wants and as long as he needs are two very different things. He’s just glad as he takes a bite of the cookie that he’s graduated from Frank to Fish. This cookie tastes how you look. Sickly sweet and warm on his tongue. He’s glad Santi has left the room because he didn’t recognize the sounds coming from him as he savored his first homemade provisions in over three years. Surviving on street food that his stomach hated and questionable canned meat products. He can taste you on his tongue as he finishes the first cookie in the blink of an eye. Four of them stacked on the plate before eating dinner seemed like overkill at first but Santiago had tasted your cookies... He gets to indulge in them whenever he wants and this is just his way of taunting Frankie. He knows Frankie is a weak man who hasn’t let himself enjoy the pleasures in life for quite a while. Temporary pleasures don’t measure up to this.

He kicks off his shoes and props himself up against the pillows again as he absentmindedly reaches for another. A cool breeze whips his face as he looks up at the spinning blades. Santiago must have turned it on without him noticing. His mama always used to tell him to slow down and enjoy his food so he does in this moment. The first one he ate with such urgency like it would be his last, this one he can savor the hints of cinnamon and vanilla. The gooey chocolate makes a mess on his fingers. He glances over to see no napkin so he licks it off getting a hint of salt and peanut butter. There’s no way you could know unless Santiago told you. He holds it in front of him to inspect and sees the small peanut butter chips melted in. That was always his favorite and only Santi knew.

It’s much easier to fall asleep as he polished off the last cookie and most of the milk. This one hour felt better than any full night of sleep he got when he wasn’t home.

****

Frankie feels like his body weighs a ton. Waking up from his nap is disorienting as he remembers where he is. Sleeping in a room he never thought he’d be in, in a place he never thought he’d ever come back to. This short slumber after being sleep deprived for so long is like serving someone an appetizer and telling them the restaurant is closing early.

He showed up unexpectedly and you took it in stride. Like you’ve been here waiting for him this whole time to put the pieces back together. Frankie doesn’t think you’d mind if he skipped out on dinner for some much needed rest but his stomach grumbles as he stares at the empty plate next to him. The smell of garlic,onions and peppers coax him out of the bed as he stretches his creaky bones. He can hear laughter and the clinking of plates as he walks down the hallway, it dawns on him that he hasn’t showered in twelve hours but he doesn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. He’s been enough of a burden these last few years and he won’t let you bear the load any longer.

“Hola bella durmiente.” Santi’s teasing voice hits his ears before he sees him. He wants to flip him off but he’s too tired and that feels too normal.

Frankie glances at the time on the oven as you finish plating something that smells like home. “Shit it’s been two hours.” Santi whistles at him to sit down as he scrubs his hands through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it Francisco, this man takes four hour naps.” You lean over setting the plate down in front of him and your boyfriend. He watches you plant a kiss on Santi’s head, not to flaunt it but just because it’s second nature.

“You never take naps.”

“I’ve learned to relax.” Santi says with a mouthful of food as he points his fork. “You should learn to do the same, Frankie.”

He can breathe a sigh of relief that he can be Frankie again, even in jest.

He takes a bite as you settle in across from him, it’s perfect much like the cookies as he closes his eyes not afraid of the moan that leaves him. “Holy shit this is better than Santi’s Chile verde.”

Santi takes your hand placing a kiss on your fingers. “That’s why I don’t make it anymore.”

“Well don’t be shy, there’s plenty on the stove.” You smile at him and he notices then that you changed. A light touch of makeup and a little perfume. Santi’s still in his tee shirt and jeans but you’ve ditched the old ratty Metallica shirt and swapped it for a bright yellow blouse and jeans.

Santi clears his throat interrupting Frankie observing you. “She’s an amazing chef. She takes a lot of pride in her work, and I take my job as the Guinea pig very seriously.” He leans back and pats his belly.

You’re practically beaming at him as you stand to take his empty plate. He gently grabs your wrist urging you to sit as he absentmindedly grabs Frankie’s to serve them up some more.

****

Frankie used to run from his compliments or brush them off as nothing. He was always too afraid of the praise not realizing how hurtful it was to the other man when he would wave him off. Santi loves you in the way he always wanted Frankie to love him.

He’s grateful for the small talk during the rest of the evening. A few beers and a way too nice bottle of wine has him comfortably buzzed as he listens to you talk about how you met Santiago. In true Santiago form he almost ruined it before it even began.

It was at Will's wedding a little over a year ago.Santiago assumed you were a guest of the bride because he’s certain he would remember meeting you in the many years he’d known Will. He saw you just before the ceremony in a navy blue silk suit, the plunging neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. You looked lost and a little irked when he approached you asking to save him a dance.

He looked for you in the sea of unfamiliar faces during the ceremony and again during the reception. It wasn’t until a very unfortunate moment with a clingy bridesmaid in his lap drunkenly telling him about her new piercing that he locked eyes with you. There was a humorous look on your face as you winked at him. Two men approached you in matching white button ups and black ties and you snapped to attention. He could always tell when someone was giving orders and needed to be taken seriously. The men scurry away when you’re done speaking and start gathering plates and cutlery. Your face relaxes again and you wink at him exiting the ballroom as the girl screeches in his ear ‘are you even listening to me?”

“No sweetheart I’m not.” He quickly displaces her from his lap as she stands there dumbstruck by his actions.

He bursts through the doors and is met with a mostly empty kitchen. You’re standing there wide eyed with another girl in the matching uniform. “Finish boxing up the leftovers for the newlyweds and then you’re good to go.” You brush her arm as you walk past and beeline it straight for him.

“Lost?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“No I ugh…you…-“ He’s scrambling as you stare him down unwavering.

“A man of many words I see.” You pick a piece of lint off his suit jacket and he notes your close proximity.

“You never danced with me.” He teases and you laugh a little. It’s a start

“You seemed to already have a dance partner…and as you can see.” You gesture around the kitchen. “I was a little busy.”

“Oh her…I don’t even know her name.” He winces as you give him an incredulous look.

You’re already walking away toward the ballroom doors before he can recover. He’s hot on your heels, never one to back down from a challenge. “So I can’t convince you to dance with me?”

You spin and he has to stop himself from crashing into you. “Maybe some other time Santiago.” You kiss him on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick reminder for any unknown nameless women.

“Wait…how do you know my name!?”

“I was warned about you.” You yell over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen leaving him there stunned.

It took a lifetime of bribes and I owe yous and promises of future baby sitting to get your number from Will. His wife Emma was pissed until you weaved your way into their lives and the rest is history.

****

It’s been at least an hour since you went off to bed, saying your goodnights to both men. They stayed mostly silent on the couch as they stared at some movie on the tv. Neither one of them paid any attention. Just waiting for any signs of life from you to die down in the bedroom down the hall.

Santi knew your night routine like the back of his hand. You’d wash your face of any makeup and apply what he thought was an absurd amount of creams and oils. You’d sit gingerly on the edge of the bed as you applied this lotion that smelled of rose and coconut, taking your time to cover every inch of your body. Smiling at him all the while asking if he’d like to join to which he’d just tell you one of you had to be rough in the relationship. On the nights he didn’t personally see to it that you were passed out you’d read a few chapters of your book before falling asleep with your finger marking the page and he’d gently retrieve it from you before kissing your forehead making sure not to wake you.

It’s this thought that’s ticking away at him as he counts down the minutes silently while he watches Frankie’s leg nervously bounce beside him. He’s sitting in the spot he used to but he feels miles away. Stark contrast to how they used to be on this couch, cuddling and laughing while they talked about their future.

“Do you love her?”

The words that leave Frankie’s mouth rip through the silence like the sound of a thunder clap. Only the light from the tv illuminates the look on Santi’s face but Frankie can see it clear as day. It’s moments like these that Santi’s aware of his high blood pressure as the sound of his heartbeat whooshes in his ears.

“How dare you ask me that.” His voice starts low but the rage behind it is threatening to boil over.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yes I love her.” He says a little louder, no lie or waver to his voice.

Frankie scrubs his jaw as he huffs under his breath. “I’m glad you moved on.” The sarcasm dripped from his tone and now Santi is seeing red.

Santi grabs the remote, flicking off the tv plunging them into darkness. “You think I just moved on the moment you left. You do remember being the one who left right?” He hates how Frankie can so quickly get under his skin. This is the exact reaction he wanted from him and he took the bait. “I waited for you. I waited and waited until Will had to pick me up off the floor and make me shower and eat and really take a look at the situation.”

Santi stands and paces the room as Frankie watches someone he thought he knew open up like he’s never done before. Santi loved him but he always let Frankie take the lead. He never put himself first and it almost swallowed him up whole. Frankie knows it’s not fair to judge any of his actions but he’s a scared animal backed into a corner and this is all he’s got left. One last fight before he lunges out in hope’s that Santi will tell him something to justify what he did.

“You may have been torn up for a bit but you look pretty comfortable to me.” Frankie gestures around the room as he stands in front of Santi. “You’ve got nice home cooked meals, all your friends, a beautiful house and someone to fuck at the end of a long day.”

Santi grabs his shirt shoving him back down to the couch. “Don’t act like your bed wasn’t warm these last three years. You and I both know how you are Frank.” Fuck he’s back to Frank.

“I didn’t love any of them.” Frankie says as Santi rolls his eyes.

“You want an award for not falling in love with them.” Frank grits his teeth as the sing song words ooze out of Santi’s mouth while he claps his hands in his face.

“You should keep your voice down, you wouldn't want to wake up your wife.” Frankie says and with no remorse Santi knows he’s wounded. A small part of him is glad for it.

With his voice barely above a whisper as he leans down face to face with Frankie. “She’s not my wife, and you’re not my husband.”

****

Santi quietly closes the door as he watches your sleeping form. It’s one of his favorite things to do. The steady rise and fall of your chest, wondering what peaceful things drift in your dreams. You’re wearing one of his shirts and probably nothing else. Majority of your wardrobe when you weren’t at work consisted of his clothing. It stirred something in him he’d never experienced before you. The way he was possessive over you…he never understood why Frankie would act the way he did when men and women would flirt with him until he met you.

How dare Frankie question his love and his loyalty. He was the one who walked away. How dare he look at you the way he did, thinking Santi wouldn’t notice the desire in his eyes.

“Baby, are you coming to bed or do you want to keep holding the door up?” Your sleepy voice grabs his attention as you pat the spot beside you.

He pushes off the door and pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside.”I thought you were asleep.” His jeans and belt hit the floor with a thud as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I was but I could hear your thoughts in my dreams.” You sit up wrapping your arms around him. Your hands drift to his stomach, his soft abs flex under your touch as he relaxes against you. You know he wants to say something. The elephant in the room that is Frankie.

“I love you.” His voice barely above a whisper. He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his chest. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your fingers.

“I love you too.”He shivers as your lips graze the faint scar traveling down his neck. A reminder of something he’s been through with you that Frankie wasn’t there for. His need for you is made all that more evident with the man he loved, loves in the room down the hall.

He shifts so fast your head is spinning as he pins you underneath him. Whatever thoughts were plaguing him before are long gone with his hands roaming underneath his shirt to graze the soft skin under your breast. His lips swallow your whine as he rolls your nipple between his fingers reveling in the way your body responds to him.

You can feel the hard press of his cock beneath his boxers as he rolls his hips into you. Searching for some kind of friction.

“I need this off.” His voice is strained as he pulls the shirt over your head.

You chuckle trying to reach for him as he shoves his boxers down, laughter dies in your throat at the sight of him. The moonlight in the room illuminates his hard cock, dark at the tip leaking precum on the sheets below.

His hands slide up your thighs as he squeezes the flesh between his fingers. His grip tightens as he cups your ass, lifting you slightly to wrap your legs around him. “Look at you…and you’re all mine.”

You’re breathless as you reach for him, pulling him into your chest.”Santi, kiss me.” You don’t have to ask him twice, your voice is like a siren song as he dips his tongue into you. He can taste the mint from your toothpaste and your cherry chapstick. Mine.

He should go slow, work you open like he always does. He drags the tip through your slick folds and a soft whimper leaves your mouth. You’re being too quiet…because of him. His hands gently press your throat as he buries himself to the hilt. A louder whine escapes you, he knows it drives you crazy as he squeezes just enough to have you panting.

“Fuck I need you, I’m sorry.” He releases your throat and starts an unrelenting pace as you quickly adjust to his size. He’s never been this desperate, not willing to make you come on his mouth or fingers first.

Your body doesn’t seem to care as the slick wet sound of your bodies and your pussy clenching with each thrust has him growling in your ear. “I want to hear you.” He wraps his arms underneath you and grips your shoulders.

“Santi…please.” You don’t want to be used for his anger and revenge but you can’t think straight with his cock ramming that spot deep inside you.

“Please what baby?” He fucks you harder as he watches your face contort in pleasure as you chant his name. He bites down on the swell of your breast and you cry out as he licks and soothes the spot with his tongue.

“Santi…I’m so close.” He knows…he can feel how close you are as your heels dig into his back, your blunt nails scratch at his scalp and you arch your body as your climax washes over you. “Come inside me please, Santi.”

Images flash in his mind of Frankie fucking you through your orgasm as you scream his name, his cock is pulsing and throbbing inside you as he fills you up. His deep ragged breaths in your ear as the aftershocks jolt through him. “I love you.” He says it over and over as he kisses your face, your mouth, your sweat soaked forehead. He’s really saying I’m sorry but those words mean the same right now.

“I love you too baby.” Your voice is wrecked from screaming, having long forgotten about your houseguest. You know this is what he wanted and a small part of you wanted it to. Santiago is yours to keep.

****

Shame washes over Frankie as he cleans his spend off his stomach with his tee shirt. He pulls his boxers up and sits on the edge of the bed staring out into the backyard.

It’s quiet now, in his post orgasmic clarity. All he has are the thoughts running through his mind. The thoughts that have plagued him since he set foot back into this house. How selfish it is to want what’s down the hall in a place he called home.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Taglist- @ghostslillady @criticalarchitecture @ael-xander @tinytinymenace @for-a-longlongtime @itsokbbygrl-library @mymo-n @lola-lola-lola @readingiskeepingmegoing

Tagging a few who might be interested:

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americas1suiteheart · 10 months

Note

Hi! Hope you are doing well! So, Tangerine x Reader: any headcanons about Tan as a partner? Thanks!

I'm doing great in fact, thank you for the request! Headcannons are my favourite thing to write, hope this is fitted to your taste.

Dating Tangerine Would Include...

[Tangerine x GN! Reader Headcannons]

[Warnings; Violence, smoking, violence, its a bullet train fic guys]

[Notes; I love writing for Tan so much you guys have no idea, I get to cuss as much as I want to in these fics]

Oh man, he's such a softie for you, you have absolutely no idea.

He can go from being the same grumpy prick to other people and have one of the worst days but when he's around you he's calling you love and darling, clinging onto you practically and just showering you in kisses.

He's so clingy, as soon as either of you get home he's begging you to sit with him on the couch just so you could cuddle. And if your making dinner expect him to try to help but just end up holding you by your waist the whole time.

Lemon thinks it's the cutest thing how tangerine acts around you. He thinks its hilarious how quickly Tan switches up with you.

"-you're the one that doesn't fucking know how to go on about this job correctly! You're such a fucking idiot sometimes Lemon it's insu-" Tangerine yells at his brother before being interrupted by you.

"Whats going on? What are you two fighting about now?" You say in annoyance.

"Nothing darling, just please go back to the living room I'll be right there okay love," Tangerine tells you softly, pressing a kiss to your head before you leave.

"You're a right fuckin' sap for them, Tan," Lemon snickers at Tangerines change of attitude and tone.

"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall, honest to god Lemon."

He just loves when your laying with eachother and you run your hands through his curls.

I'd like to think you help him take care of his hair actually. Like, he would know how to take care of it properly before, but he let's you put different product in his hair to make sure he doesn't miss any areas on his hair, (In reality he just wants to be touched by you in some way).

Being a part time nurse for him and Lemon definitely became a thing almost immediately after you two started dating. Constant cleaning of wounds and such, just constantly.

The days when he's on missions he's constantly texting you as much as he can, checking up on you to make sure you're doing well.

There are times where he's come home a couple days or even weeks later than he had originally anticipated without being able to contact you, and you'd be absolutely furious, (sometimes not knowing that he wasn't able to contact you at all).

"What the fuck happened, Tan! I thought you were dead. You hadn't even texted me or anything, you were supposed to be back 5 days ago! You had me absolutely worried sick!" You yell.

Tan had been gone for almost 2 weeks when the mission was only supposed to last a week. And on top of that he hadn't phoned or even tried to text you. If it weren't for Lemon telling you that they were fine 2 days before they showed up you would've assumed the worst had happened.

"I really am sorry my darling, the mission was just much harder than we'd expected and we got stuck there longer than nessasary." He explained quietly.

"But why hadn't you contacted me at all? If it weren't for lemon calling me I would've thought you two were gone for good!"

"My telephone got broken by some prick the 3rd day into the mission whilst we were fighting. And I didn't think to used lemon's phone because I was so frazzled the whole time. Really darling, I didn't mean to frighten or worry you."

"Alright.. Sorry I freaked out on you but I really was worried. I'm just glad you're okay now." You walk to Tangerine, pulling him into a hug.

" 's alright love, I'm glad you and I are good too. Let's go wash up and go to bed, I've got blood all over me and my fuckin' clothes and it don't feel too great," Tangerine says, picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom.

Loves taking baths with you, taking turns washing eachother off makes him feel all warm inside, that you trust eachother enough at that point in your relationship. He thinks it's so sweet though.

Sometimes when he goes outside to have a smoke he'll invite you out with him so you two can just talk. If you smoke he'll probably share one with you too.

Very protective.. Being he's an assassin and all, he'd most definitely go to extremes if someone had been bothering you. Some random person flirted with you? Dead. A someone you knew in high school used to bully you? Dead. Any person that has hurt you no matter how long ago will probably end up dead.

You two are so good for eachother though. Strangely the healthiest relationship you will ever have. Please don't break this poor boy's heart. He will be absolutely devastated and blame himself for it. Underneath all of that muscle and confidence he's very emotional and sensitive.

Will ask to marry you and even possibly start a family with you if you're up for it. (Adoption or old fashioned depending on your biological sex).

Loved writing this, and I was infact so excited that I finished this in just 2 hours🤭

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #gender neutral reader #headcannons

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mrsparrasblog · 5 days

Text

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

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httplilyyy · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 | 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: calm before the storm

warnings: descriptions of violence, swearing, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i thought i'd post part five a little earlier for you all :)

scream masterlist | prev. part | next part

005. take a walk - tall boys

‘nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.’

The sound of steady beeps slowly brought you out of consciousness. The first thing you noticed was a heavy grip on your hand. Slowly opening your eyes, you winced at the bright lights bearing down on you.

Groaning slightly, you turned to your left and spotted Tara sleeping in a chair, holding onto your hand for dear life. Even in her sleep, Tara trembled. Suddenly becoming aware of how much pain you were in, you shifted around causing Tara to wake up.

“Y/n!” Tara exclaimed, shooting up from her position. “You’re awake!”

“Gale.” You said, throat scratchy after not speaking for a while. “Is Gale okay?”

“Y/n.” Tara said softly and you immediately thought the worst.

Shaking your head from side to side, tears threatened to spill but you managed to keep them at bay.

“She’s okay, right? She has to be.”

“Gale’s going to be fine.” Tara said, watching as you deflated at her sentence, relief washing over you.

“Where is she? I need to go see her.” You said, wincing as you sat up.

Tara sat up straighter and placed her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back down.

“Don’t move, you’ll pull out your stitches.”

“No Tara.” You said, pushing her off. “I need to see Gale, I need to make sure she’s okay!”

“And what about me?” Tara questioned, raising her voice as she stared at you. “What about what I need, huh? I need to make sure you're okay because I can't lose you!”

“Tara-”

“I can’t lose you!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m fine, see. I’m okay.” You said, holding onto Tara’s hands before placing one above your heart. “I’m fine, I'm here.”

“You can’t die.” Tara said, looking into your eyes as tears stained her cheeks.

“I won’t” You said, cupping her cheek with one of your hands.

“I’m serious. Like never- you can never die. You just can’t.”

“Never?” You smiled softly, using your thumb to wipe away a tear that fell down Tara’s cheek. “I think I might have to one day.”

“No, never.” Tara shook her head, her bottom lip quivering.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not yet at least.”

“God, y/n, I really thought I lost you.”

“Come here.” You said, moving over and patting the space beside you.

“What if I hurt you?”

“Just lay next to me.” You smiled and Tara obliged. The smaller woman hesitantly moved next to you, very wary of your stitches.

You moved over a bit more, giving Tara some extra space and she finally settled beside you. She rested her head in the crook of your neck, her hand finding yours.

You intertwined your fingers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Tara sunk further into your embrace, feeling your chest rise up and down, hearing every beat of your heart and every stroke of your thumb over the scar on her hand.

Knowing Tara had calmed back down, you sunk back into your bed, looking up at the ceiling, knowing this feeling all too well.

“Y’know this is all like some sick deja vu.” You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head from side to side.

“That’s why we need to end this.” Tara said, looking at you with determination.

“Where are the others, by the way?” You questioned, looking back down to Tara.

“They’re waiting downstairs.” Tara replied, tracing patterns on your stomach. “They all feel terrible.”

“Hmm.” You hummed, rubbing a hand up and down Tara's arm.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” Tara sniffled, moving to lean on her hand as she looked down at you, her face only mere inches away from yours.

“I know.” You said softly, letting your hand drop from her arm to her waist.

“I should’ve believed you, I don’t know what was going through my mind.”

“Your consciousness, probably?” You joked. “I don’t blame you, Tara. It’s all in the past.”

“I just don’t want to lose us. I don’t want to lose you.”

“We’re in this together.”

The two of you stayed looking at each other, a beat of silence went passed and it was as if an imaginable force was pushing the two of you together. You could feel Tara’s breath fanning over your bottom lip making you subconsciously wet it.

Your eyes darted between hers, occasionally dropping to her lips seeing the corners of her mouth turn into a smirk. You let out a breathy chuckle, moving closer to Tara, her nose bumping into yours.

With one last look in her eyes, you silently asked her if what you were doing was okay. She gave you a small nod and closed her eyes, waiting for your lips on hers.

“Not yet.” You whispered against her lips. “I want our first kiss to be special.”

“You're such a tease.” Tara huffed opening her eyes, but she didn’t move away trying to stay as close to you as possible.

“Maybe, but that just makes it all that more exciting for when it does happen.”

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

“What? You don’t think I'll be a good kisser?” You questioned, a teasing tone present in your voice.

“I guess I'll have to wait and find out, won’t I?”

“You’re making it so hard not to kiss you right now.”

“You made your choice, you can't go back now.”

“When this is all over, let me take you out on a date.”

“And what makes you think I'll say yes?” Tara questioned, raising a eyebrow.

“I’m totally irresistible.”

“Let’s make it out alive first then you can sweep me off my feet.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to Tara’s cheek before slowing moving to get up.

“Where are you going?” Tara wondered, still in her place on the bed.

“To see your sister.”

“Why?”

“We need to come up with a plan on how to kill this Ghostface.”

“You can't go anywhere.” Tara exclaimed, trying to stop you from getting up. “Not after you've been stabbed again.”

“This is different than before.” You said, getting out of your hospital gown. “I need to do this, Tara. I have to do this.”

“No, please. Y/n, you have to listen to me, you can’t do this. I can’t see you getting hurt again.”

Tara watched you, seeing as you were struggling with putting on your top she walked over to you and gently helped you out.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

“It’s no problem.” Tara replied, a small smile on her face as she tried not to blush due to you looking down at her.

“I know you don’t want to see me get hurt again, but Tara- I- I need to do this.” You said, finally putting on your last item of clothing and looking at the younger Carpenter in her eyes. “You can’t stop me. If that means you won’t ever talk to me again, then so be it. But I could really use a friend in all this.”

“I thought we moved past being friends.” Tara said, her lips quirking up into a smile.

“That's true.” You replied with a chuckle, looking down at the floor.

“If you do this- if we do this. You need to stay by me the whole time.”

“As if I was going to let you out of my sight anyway.”

“Then lets go kill this fucker.”

The two of you made your way out of the room, and towards the elevator. The doors dinged open but before you stepped into the elevator something caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

You ignored Tara’s confused glances and you walked towards a room, your hands grasped the handle as you looked through the glass.

There was only one person in the room and they occupied the bed, laying there as they used a monitor to breathe, a mask covering their face but you knew who they were.

Gale laid there, her steady breathing being recorded by the monitors surrounding her. A small tear fell from your eye and you felt a comforting hand rub up and down your back.

“She’s safe. She’s not going anywhere.” Tara said softly.

“I’m going to kill whoever did this to her.” You whispered harshly through your tears, the back of your throat burning.

“Let’s go, come on.” Tara said, her own tears brimming in her eyes as she led you away from Gale and into the elevator.

The ride was short and silent, you held onto Tara’s hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to bring you some comfort.

When the doors opened you spotted Sam sitting beside Mindy, Chad, Ethan and Danny. Their heads snapped towards you and Tara, each of them getting up from their seats.

As you walked over to them, your grip on Tara’s hand never faltered, only tightening with every step. They each had guilty looks on their faces, rushing out apologies as you stood in front of them.

“Y/n.” Sam said, her voice quiet, it almost came out as a whisper.

“I know.” You replied, sending the Carpenter a smile. “You don’t need to apologise.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Mindy questioned timidly, afraid to talk to you after her accusations.

“Probably,” you shrugged, “but we have a Ghostface to kill.”

“About that.” Sam mumbled. “Maybe he gets to win this time.”

“What?” You questioned, head turning to her.

“He wants to punish me, so maybe I'll let him.”

“No chance.” You scoffed, looking at the woman in disbelief.

“I’ll just give myself up. If this is what I have to do, to keep you safe, it's worth it.”

“That’s not how it works, Sam.” You said, shaking your head. “They want me too, I know they do. You know that too. This is bigger than before and I just can’t let you do that Sam. if anyone is going to be ‘giving themselves up’ it's got to be me.”

“No, we’re not doing that y/n. Definitely not.” Tara said, shaking her head, her hand tightening against yours as she pulled you to look at her. “No one is going to be giving themselves up.”

“This could be our only way of killing them.” You reasoned.

“I’m not letting you do that, no way. We can think of something else but you can’t- you just can’t.”

“Tara, it’s got to be either me or Sam, and I'm not letting it be her. So I have to do this.”

“No you don’t! Why can’t you understand that there is another way.” Tara stressed before turning to her sister. “Sam, you went back to woodsboro to protect me, every single day you make the decision to protect me, none of us would even be alive if it weren’t for you.”

You looked at Tara, watching as tears threatened to spill, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to keep it together.

“And, y/n. I can’t- I don’t want to lose you. I- I-”

“I know.” You smiled softly, sensing what Tara was going to say.

“You promised me a date and I'm counting on you being there. You two have to let us protect you this time.”

“No.” Sam whispered, shaking her head.

“Yes, we’re a team, remember?”

“Actually.” Mindy spoke up. “We’re a family.”

“Let’s go!” Chad said loudly, putting his hand between you all. “Core five!”

“Core what?” Danny questioned watching as you put your hands together.

“It’s an us thing.” Chad said.

“He’s gonna keep coming after us.” Sam sighed.

“Isn’t there somewhere like, safe, we can just hold up in?” Ethan questioned, speaking up for the first time.

“He’s just gonna keep finding us.” Tara said, looking over to the boy.

“Great.” Ethan sighed, looking away in thought.

“We could use that though.” Tara said, an idea coming to mind.

“What do you mean?” You asked with furrowed brows.

Tara didn't reply, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialled Bailey’s number. It rang a couple of times before he picked up. She put the phone on speaker and everyone listened in to what she was going to say.

“We need your help.” Tara spoke before explaining her plan to him.

“I’m getting my ass chewed out for not dropping the case and now you want me to do what?”

“We want to lure him into a secure location and trap him inside.”

“And then what?”

“We execute him.”

There was a long moment of silence, each of you waiting to see what he would reply with.

“Are you going to help us?”

“Let’s kill this son of a bitch.” Bailey said determinedly. “We’ll use the key cards to the theatre. It's going to have surveillance and security cameras but we can use that against him. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“Got it.”

“And remember, travel in public. More people around you, the less chance he has to take a shot before you get there.”

“See you in a bit.” Tara said, hanging up the phone and looking up at you and Sam.

You gave Tara a smile accompanied by nod, telling her you were with her all the way. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze and that was all she needed for confidence.

Each of you quickly grabbed your things and headed towards the subway. The walk wasn't far and it didn't take you long till you were walking down the stairs and to a train.

“Is this even a good plan?” Ethan asked, following behind you.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Tara replied, walking ahead with purpose.

“So, we just peel off and the killer picks us off one by one. No thank you.”

“Let’s just get to the theatre.” Sam said, rushing towards the train. “Come on, in here.”

“Yes, because it’ll be a lot less scary in a serial killer movie theatre.” Chad mumbled sarcastically, walking quickly to try and get on the train.

You held onto Tara’s hand tightly, pulling her close to you and making sure you didn’t lose sight of her. You boarded the train with Tara, Sam, Chad and Danny not realising Mindy and Ethan didn’t make it on.

“Where’s Mindy?” Sam asked, looking around for the girl.

“She missed the train.” Chad sighed. “I was trying to wait for her but cute boy kept dragging me on.”

“I was trying to keep us together.” Danny said, defending himself.

“By pulling us apart?” Tara questioned, looking up at him with her eyebrows raised.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s fine.” Chad said, looking down at his phone. “She’s with Ethan, she’ll meet us there.”

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, looking ahead.

Everyone’s heads turned to what you were looking at and soon saw multiple people dressed up in Ghostface masks alongside people in their halloween costumes. The train’s lights started to flicker and Tara stumbled back into your body.

“Sorry.” Tara mumbled out, going to move away from you but you kept a protective arm around her waist.

“It’s no problem.” You replied, looking down at her.

“How many stops do we have?”

“Ten.” Sam sighed, looking at the map on the wall.

The train came to a halt at the next stop, multiple people got on and off and you made sure to keep an eye on each and every one of them.

“Still nothing from Mindy.” Chad said, looking down at his phone once again.

“Guys.” Sam mumbled out causing you to all turn your heads towards her.

You looked ahead, noticing someone in a Ghostface costume walking straight towards each of you. You tightened your hold on Tara, pushing her behind you as you glared at the person in the mask.

Danny stepped in front of Sam and watched as the person got even closer. Just as the masked person was about to walk into Danny they took a sharp turn and walked out of the train.

Tara moved your arm so it was around her shoulders, making her lean her head against your chest. You noticed Sam let out a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders deflate. The rest of the journey was a little less tense but the five of you were constantly vigilant for something to happen.

As you walked out of the subway, you spotted Kirby looking up at the theatre waiting for you to arrive.

“Hey.” Kirby greeted. “I talked to Bailey, I've got everything set up. Where are Mindy and Ethan?”

“They're five minutes behind us.” Tara said.

“Let's get you all inside.”

“Not you.” Sam said, suddenly turning around to face Danny.

“What?” He questioned.

“Don’t trust anyone, remember?” Sam pursed her lips, looking up at him for a moment. “We don’t know you, not really.”

“You know me.” Danny scoffed.

“You’re not Woodsboro. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I- I get it. Be safe, okay?” Danny reassured, kissing Sam on her cheek. “Okay?”

“You too.” Sam replied, turning her back and walking away with you, Kirby, Tara and Chad following her.

“Good call.” Kirby said as she walked inside the theatre.

Kirby opened the door with her key card, letting everyone inside before she followed in after.

“I cleared the whole place before you got here.” Kirby said. “So this is the only way in, or out. He steps through the first door, both doors lock, automatically trapping him inside. We turned it into a kill box.”

“Weapons?” Sam asked, crossing her arms.

“One gun, and I hold onto it.” Kirby told Sam who just rolled her eyes. “I’m the only one with the badge here and that’s the way it’s gonna be. We’re safe here.”

“I’m gonna check in with Mindy, see if they’re close.” Sam said, walking away while taking off her jacket.

You, Tara and Chad followed behind Sam the boy walking off to look around the room. Sam ventured off too, pulling her phone up to call Mindy leaving you with Tara.

Giving the younger Carpenter a smile, you took a hold of her hand and led her down a hallway and into another room.

Looking around you, there was a counter situated in front of some old stock of sweets some of which dated back to the nineties.

You leaned against the counter, watching as Tara took in everything around her. You reached for your back pocket and pulled out your phone, flipping it in your hand with a conflicted look on your face.

Swiping your phone open, you pulled up your contacts list. Your finger hovering over a certain name. You waited for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds before pressing your thumb on the contact.

You put your phone on speaker and the sound of ringing filled the room you and Tara occupied.

A few rings went past till the person on the other line picked up.

“Hello?” They answered, confused as to who was calling them.

“Hey, Sid.” You replied, a small smile on your face. “It’s me.”

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter imagines #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega imagines #jenna ortega x reader #scream vi #scream 6 #scream

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Can we see a headcanon of Leon’s girlfriend getting hit in by a guy(could be her guy friend) and they make her uncomfortable, then out of nowhere they just slap her on the butt. How would Leon react?

Minus one debt. Well, I'm glad I can write a little.

So, it's not even headcanons or text, but something in between. Like my thoughts.

There is a small smut, but not critical; Aggressive Leon; the reader shamelessly groped; Mention of physical violence (does not apply to the reader); Reader is a college girl (because I can, uh-huh); References to sexual violence.

I made the question a little worse, but the meaning would still be the same: Leon would fucking kill. Anyway.

- It could have happened at a party where you were hanging out with your friends.

- You have warned Leon that you will arrive late, but be sure to call him if there are any difficulties.

- You didn't really think you'd be late until 2am, but the booze and music convinced you to stay with your friends until early morning.

- No drugs! But you can't tell your college friend not to take them. In fact, you only drink and dance a lot, without even hearing that your phone is bursting with calls.

- Someday Leon will kill you for constantly playing on his nerves like a musical instrument (I'm not serious) but he's really worried that you're not answering texts or your calls, so it's time for things to track your phone.

- Leon can't stand some of your friends, considering he knows some of them are real junkies. He probably doesn't like that when they're high, they don't hesitate to make obscene compliments about how they would fuck you.

- When Leon first heard about it, you told him to just ignore it.

- But it was hard for Leon to control himself, if he heard it a second time, he would break this asshole's nose.

- Therefore, he is VERY concerned about your long absence and silence. Because he doesn't trust your friends.

- You realize that you have drunk more than your norm, because your feet no longer keep you on the ground. The whole world is spinning, but this does not mean that you could cheat on your boyfriend while drunk. Your brain knows who it is devoted to and who it loves.

- However, in this mess you absolutely can't find your phone to call him.

- I needed to at least get myself cleaned up. You started to feel sick, so you wandered to the toilet, then to catch a taxi and go home.

- With a swinging gait, you somehow reached your cherished goal when your friend's hand grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the wall with a brisk movement.

- The club is full of drunken kissing couples, so no one pays attention to you.

- Your brain didn't even immediately understand what was going on when someone godlessly started groping your ass.

- The back of your head hit the wall painfully, causing your brains to shake and turn into mush.

- And then someone's lips brazenly began to kiss your neck, despite the resistance.

- Someone's tongue is trying to get into your mouth with a disgusting kiss that tastes like cheap liquor.

- But weak attempts at resistance are perceived as flirting and teasing, despite the fact that you demand in a whimpering voice to stop.

- The only thing you know is that it's not Leon.

- "sh, hush, Sweetie, or are you just so submissive with your old man?" - Your friend's voice made you freeze in place in fear. - Like this! Be a pretty girl and let me touch you.

- Your (already former) friend allowed himself unforgivably much. You found the strength to push him in the chest and he staggered back a few steps away from you, mocking maliciously.

- "What? Do you only like old assholes, whore?"

- You try to pass by, ignoring his narcotic fumes mixed with alcohol, but again they grab you by the arm, dragging you somewhere to a secluded place.

- Your legs fail you and you stumble all the time trying to wrest your hands from a strong grip.

- Now you're not just uncomfortable. You are afraid.

- You scream to be let go otherwise there will be serious problems, hoping that this will somehow help you.

- But in return, you hear only disgusting insults.

- "Dumb slut! Your old man can even lift his ass off the couch to fuck you well! Tell me, Y/N, what did he do to you? money? Do you really want to live with a rich sugar daddy? You let him fuck you so he buys you all those tight skirts and blouses?"

- You are truly scared. Your friend is out of his mind and drags you into some back room, practically dragging you along. Even when you cry and fall trying to run back, he grabs your hair and continues on his way.

- It's not real! you try to convince yourself that this is a cruel joke of your friends, but it's all for real.

- You get pawed again trying to take away your tight dress, and even some of the self-defense techniques that Leon taught you do not work on him. You cry, begging not to do anything to you, that you will just leave and not tell anyone anything.

- Mascara dripped down your cheeks as you cried loudly, trying to somehow cover the bare parts of your body.

- Obscenities were whispered in your ear, and if it was Leon, some part of them could make you tremble, but now you just want to close your eyes and die.

- Salvation is nowhere to be found. However, you do not want to submit to your fate and bite your friend (I remind you of the former) painfully on the fingers when he put them in your mouth.

- Another attempt to escape in one inch. And it didn't succeed when they knocked you to the floor, preventing you from escaping.

- You may have time to shout "Help" several times before you are gagged and all you hear is the sound of jeans being unzipped.

- You had already closed your eyes, preparing for the worst, when you heard the sound of the door being thrown open.

- And then the relief when no one else presses you down with their body to the icy floor.

- Not understanding the madness around, part of your brain tells you to run while you can, but you understand your eyes only see an angry Leon beating up your rapist.

- How much chance does an ordinary civilian asshole have against a specially trained agent? Leon slams the bastard's head on the floor and you crawl back into the corner in horror, watching his bloodstained face stare at you.

- Maybe it seemed to you... But the beating to never end. In this chaos, you couldn't make out Leon's words, except for the expressions "Son of a bitch" and "Fucking scum" it seems there was something about your untouchability. However, you could no longer endure this spectacle of endless beatings. Is it possible that Leon tried to kill him like that?

- No gunshots, no squelching sounds like a knife stabbing in the throat. You just screamed in horror mixed with fear when you saw what this asshole had turned into. Although he could still speak, it made sure that he was still alive.

- Leon lost control of himself. He looked at him like a vile worm and headed towards you, immediately softening in his eyes.

- Without saying anything, he just wrapped you in his jacket before quickly making sure that what was planned was not done and picked you up like a feather in his arms, taking you away from this place.

- Lastly, "I'm not done with you, son of a bitch"

- Leon put you gently in the car and fastened your seat belt, and you spent the whole way home in silence and tears, afraid to look at him. He didn't say or do anything either.

- You returned home the same in his arms. Leon sat you down on the couch, tossed keys on the coffee table, and then kicked the chair that caught his eye first.

- The situation was heating up.

- Leon took a deep breath, licking his lips, clearly wanting to say something as he looked in your direction. You sat in the same place without moving.

- His aggression was overflowing and he had to make a huge effort not to yell at you, instead ordering you to take off your jacket (he was really trying to say it calmly)

- You obediently complied with his request, putting the leather jacket aside, hugging your shoulders.

- Still sobbing.

- Leon came back to you with a first aid kit to make sure there weren't any major injuries or scratches.

- But he couldn't contain his anger.

- "Why am I always pulling your ass out of all the shit?!"- Perhaps the sight of someone else's hickey on your neck made him scream. - "Is it so difficult not to look for problems? Why the hell should I look for you in a fucking drug club where your drug addict friend almost raped you?! Why the hell didn't you get home on time? How much of your fucking quirks do I have to put up with? until they kill you?"

- The hysteria grew, but there were absolutely no words. Leon threw something fragile at the wall, and it shattered into pieces, making you cry even more in fright.

- You prayed for only one thing: for this to end.

- Leon took a deep breath trying to control his anger. Without saying anything, he went into the bath where you heard the sound of running water.

- After 10 minutes, everything was quiet and Leon went into the kitchen pouring some whiskey into a glass, but instead of drinking it himself, he sat down in front of you, forcing you to drink it yourself.

- "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and then you can go to bed."

- Leon helped take off your torn dress and underwear and soaked your shaking body in warm water, turning away to find your facial sponge to wash off the smudged make-up.

- You were trembling despite the surrounding heat and apparently drunk alcohol makes itself felt.

- Leon tidied you up carefully, looking at your bruises. Didn't bother for a long time. Wrapped it up in a towel and took it to the bedroom where he pulled out your underwear from the drawer, which he put on you and his shirt.

- You knew he wouldn't hurt you, so maybe that's why you were still looking for protection from him? Leon laid pillows on you, covering you with a thick blanket, preparing himself for a sleepless night.

- In the morning you will feel bad. Both physically and mentally, of course, he will take care of you and he does not believe that you are to blame for what happened. It's just that if you really want to be with him, you'll have to cut your circle of fucking friends and not get on his nerves.

- He loves you to death, so you love him.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader

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