#(Which they knew but they had no idea HOW deep the lies went)

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Thinking about Mina meeting the Pines, and naturally no one’s gonna trust ANOTHER triangle from the Second Dimension, especially not one Bill CLEARLY knows (and is on the verge of simply shattering into pieces at the mere sight of her)—

—but then she seats herself in a spot where she can be surrounded by the unicorn hair spell (she says as much) so they know she won’t get up to anything, and is very quiet and reserved and clearly trying not to take up a lot of room and oh GOD this is a child. This is so clearly a child whom someone made them feel like they needed to be quiet and obedient at all times, and she listened.

And then the realization that she’s Bill’s twin hits, and it’s like oh GOD, that’s a child too. That’s a child who probably got the same treatment and promptly fought it at every chance, to the point where he was not going to ever listen again. To the point where he destroyed himself and everyone he ever came into contact with as a means of making sure he never HAD to listen again.

And it’s like oh. Oh...

[sematarygirls]

   EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs

NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah

After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.

Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameron—the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.

But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.

You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at you—at your baby—made you physically ill.

They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.

Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.

This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.

You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.

It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.

You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.

Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.

As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.

He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotions—longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.

He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on you—the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomach—a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.

Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.

A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.

"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"

"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.

He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.

Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"

You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.

"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.

His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.

You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"

He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."

You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.

Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.

"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.

"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"

"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."

His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."

"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.

"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.

"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"

"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."

His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."

You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearance—how rugged and large he was—made your knees week.

His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him away—yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your house—but you didn't.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within you—the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.

The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.

He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.

You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.

He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"

You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.

His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."

"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.

"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"

His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.

Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips

He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs—with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.

He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.

"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.

He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.

"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.

"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.

You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."

The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.

He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.

One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.

"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.

You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.

"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.

He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"

His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.

"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside you—because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.

You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.

He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.

"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.

"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.

"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."

"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."

"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.

He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"

You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.

"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.

Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."

There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.

He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.

His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.

He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.

You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?

Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."

You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

[i-starcreamed]

Beggingggg for a Megatron (Transformers One) x kind male reader who looked up to him not as a friend but as a small crush. Megatron saw jt at first when he was D-16 and didn’t think much until when he declared to kill their leader (did not like him that I forgot his name) and tries to take advantage of the readers fondness towards him to make him join his side. The reader knows it’s wrong and declines which turns into a small argument about why the reader should join them..

THINKS OF SOME TOXIC TANGO OF LOVE AND LOYALTY WHERE ONE ISNT SURE—

MEGATRON X READER

Basically megop but with Y/N. You two are divorced YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE!! Also I don’t mention pronouns that often in my work but I’m tagging this as male reader :3

[cybertronian! male reader Angst AGAIN 😭 not that much though, you guys just argue a lil]

As D-16, he hadn’t thought much of your crush. He knew you as the mech who treated everyone with kindness, a trait he silently admired. You were almost an even softer version of Orion, gentle to a fault sometimes.

You were with them when you went to find the Primes, there, you uncovered the truth as they did. You watched as D-16's expression fell with every detail revealed about Sentinel and..everything he did.

Gesturing for him to follow you, you pulled him aside. He did so without hesitation—he knew you had no ill intent. Maybe his entire life had been a lie, but at least you were still there. As genuine as ever.

"I can’t believe…” he muttered, his voice strained. His optics moved across the ground, he had to blink rapidly to snap himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. You quickly placed a comforting servo on his shoulder, grounding him before he could spiral.

“D, look at me. I can’t believe it either,” you whispered, locking optics with him.

“We’re going to stop him…okay? I’m here with you.” You murmured. Was it a confession? Maybe so.

Your words hung in the air, heavy with hesitation. “I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll get through this..together.”

D eyed you, his own voice faltering for a second.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He exvented, his optics again panning towards the ground as he let you comfort him. Despite the small flutter in his spark, the sudden goal to make Sentinel pay overrode any other emotion. He will pay.

When D-16 spiraled into Megatron, you were the first he sought out. His eyes were not the vibrant golden they used to be. You questioned him, to which he eagerly—almost desperately, held onto your shoulders in response.

“Y/N…listen to me. Do you trust me?”

“..I do trust you.”

“Then join me, come with me. I know how I’m going to make Sentinel pay for his lies. Unlike Orion's plan, I will make sure it gets done.”

You slightly shook your helm, “But D.. you two should be working together. Not split apart. I don’t want you doing anything uh.. extreme.”

His optics turned cold, narrowing in anger. “Extreme? You call my ideas extreme? Sentinel was the one that has been keeping us as slaves,” He hissed, inching towards you. “For years, for years, I thought we were doing the right thing. But no, everything was a lie. You, Y/N—you have to understand”

You watched in horror as Megatron killed Sentinel. He should have been satisfied now, but he wasn't. He called upon an army. Freedom fighters, but now they fought for a cause that no longer needed fighting. From his elevated position on the structure above, you locked optics.

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, as he took in the fear in your expression. Once, you looked up to him as someone you admired. Hell, you thought you loved him. Deep down, a part of you still did.

He’s still D-16, maybe. He must be, right?

You realized maybe you did have different ideals, different goals. To you, it should have ended when Sentinel was exposed. Then you had no option, perhaps after his death? You all would have rebuilt Cybertron together. Maybe even properly confess to D. Things just didn't go as planned in many ways.

But now, you could only watch as he descended the stairs toward you, his steps slow and deliberate.

You flinched, feeling his servo against the side of your helm. He stopped a couple inches away from you, leaning down, his voice a low hiss,

“Do you see it now, Y/N? That…I did that for you. For us.” His fingers traced the ridges of your helm, a caress that made your spark stutter in confusion. He was never, ever, this bold as D-16.

“I want you to join me. We can do this together.”

You hesitated, still trying to process how affectionate he was being with you. As much as you've dreamt of this, there was something off about it. D-16 was always soft, and casual about his demeanor. This Megatron was intense, his red optics burning into yours.

“Megs…I can’t.” You murmured. This was wrong. Very very wrong.

Megatron raised a brow, “You cannot?”

His servo shifted, cupping your chin and tilting your helm upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me something, Y/N. Are you a liar too?”

You furrowed your brow, “What? No, no, I haven’t lied to yo—“

“You said you’d follow me anywhere," He interrupted, "I need you to do that now.” He said in a softer tone, but you heard the hint of menace in his voice. It was an order, not a plead.

You took a deep intake, slowly stepping back from his grasp—his servo hung in the air for a moment before falling to his side.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Megatron. I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you.” You said firmly, your voice steady. You had made up your mind.

His teeth clenched, frustration flaring in his optics as he stepped closer again, closing the distance between you two.

“Where is loyalty when you need it the most!? Where is it?! Tell me!” He exclaimed, his outburst making you take another step back.

Your optics flickered back to where Orion and your friends should be, then back at Megatron. “I want to be with you, Megs, I do. But this fight.. it’s over. Sentinel is dead.”

You stepped forward despite your frantic sparkbeat, your servos grasped onto his which were balled into fists.

“Come with me. We can help build Cybertron together, all of us. I need you to trust me.” You urged softly.

For a moment, you thought you had reached him. His optics softened, and his fists slowly unclenched, his gaze drifting to where your servos held his.

“I don’t want to rebuild Cybertron,”

He slowly scowled, his servos tightened around yours.

“I want to fix it.”

He turned away, leaving you standing in the dust and debris. You coughed, the air thick with smoke, watching him disappear into the distance with Primus knows how many High Guard fliers behind him.

You begin to wonder if you made the right choice. You wanted your D-16 back, but you couldn't bear the death and destruction that came along with Megatron.

As doubt crept in, you realized one terrible truth.

He had already won you over.

[qaxqxd]

JOYRIDE

♡: Logan Howlett x Deadpool!f!reader Genre: Smut (Readers advised, 18+ content ahead.) Warning: Mention of, bondage, oral (receiving and giving), unprotected sex (p in v), some praising and degrading, orgasms denial, overstimulation, fingering, some light teasing from Logan, creampie, cussing, sex with some plot, no mention of y/n, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language) Word count: 2.3k A/n: deadpool reader and wolverine sort of outta character tbh Summary: The car is not the only thing you’re riding. (Takes place during the scene where they fought in the car)

The car drove through the forest as you made little ‘thwups’ noises pretending to be Spider-man. “Stop it.” The metal ding-dong man grumbled. A little saddened by the request, you processed to make one last ‘thwups’ noise before stopping.

You didn’t like the silence in the car, so you decided to try to hold up a convo with Wolvie. “So, if they could fix your world. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get outta here?— Some rubbing alcohol shots? Maybe a wiper fluid chaser?” You snicker.

“What s’did you say?” He cocked his head towards you. Which sent slight shivers down your back, but heated your core. “I said, when you get back, what are you gonna do?” You repeated. “No before that.” He mumbled.

“If… they could fix your world?” You hesitated to say.

The car abruptly stops as Wolvie pulls the brakes. He glared at you, daggers sent your way. If looks could kill you’d probably be dead, even with your rapidly healing abilities.

“What do you mean ‘if’?” He spoke with a deadly tone. “I mean—” He cuts you off. “You lied to me! You don’t have a fucking clue if they can help fix things, do you?” He muttered. “No-? I mean— OH FUCK! FUCK.” You shouted in pain.

His adamantium claws digged into your thigh painfully. “I DIDN’T LIE—!” He cuts you off again. “YOU LIED!” He exclaimed. “NO! I MADE A EDUCATED WISH.” You proclaimed. He frowned at you like it was the dumbest thing you’ve said so far.

You really had no idea if they could, but you really needed him. Your world was dying, because of this hot metal shitbag who decided to play hero and dies in your world. So you needed a replacement. Who knew the replacement would be a total jerk?

Damn, at least he was still hot even when he was yelling at you. Your panties if not already not were soaked.

You both went silent for a bit, before you started speaking again. “Because I need you.” You huffed quickly pulling out a photo of your friends. “This. This is why. Right here.” You pointed at the picture.

“Because If we don’t do anything, they die.” You paused for a second trying to catch your breath, and trying to ignore the painful digging on your left thigh. “I don’t know anything about saving worlds, and why would I care? Because my entire world is right here in this picture.” You rasp.

He just glared at you, fuming. “It's— only nine people, and I have no idea how to save it alone. I know how to fucked people up for money, but you YOU know how to— well at least the other Wolverine did— AGH.” You yelped as he dug in deeper in your thigh. 

“Well I guess I’m stuck with the worst one!” You ranted. “Did you say you made an educated fuckin’ wish?” He growled. “They call me the merc with the mouth, they don’t call me truthful jimmy blowjob of Saskatoon.” You stated.

He pulled his claws out of your thigh, leaving a deep crimson puddle behind it. “One more word.” He huffs. “Please, give me one.” Wolvie scolded. You paused for a second.

“Gubernatorial” And quickly flinched at him almost punching you. “Y’know what? You’re a fucking joke. No wonder the Avengers didn’t take you, or the X-Men.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half wit-moron.” He paused for a bit to breathe.

“I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick. In my entire life, and that says a lot, because I’ve been alive for more over two-hundred fuckin’ years. And I’ll tell ya’, that bald chick was right ‘bout one thing. You will NEVER save the world. YOU couldn’t even save a RELATIONSHIP WITH A GODDAMN STRIPPER. 

MOTHERFUCKER I wish I could say you die alone. BUT IT IS GOD’S BEST JOKES THAT YOU CAN’T DIE, AND HAVE THAT ON ALL OF US.” He shouted, hitting his fist on the car roof.

You stayed quiet, processing every little hurtful detail he just threw at you.

“You got nothin’ to say? Mouth?” He scoffed in your face. You both went quiet, only the sound of his breathing was audible. “I’m going to fight you now.” You huffed. He laughed bitterly in your face. “Oh are you?—” Your fist hits his face, and his nose starts dripping.

He hits you multiple times in the face, before you two go on a whole kicking and punching situation with his claws out too. He quickly ties you up to the seat and he claws you. You quickly kick him out of the vehicle, trying to unbuckle yourself.

He got launched outside the windshield, and you climbed to the back. God, the Honda Odyssey was a nice car. Too bad Nicepool wasn’t getting it back in mint condition, but I don’t think he would’ve mind.

Wolvie jumped back in the car pushing his claws pushing into you again, ouch. He pushed you outside the car through the sunroof, and you weren’t going to let that slide. So you jumped back into the car through the window, with the baby knives in your hands.

This time you were on top of him pinning him against the seat. I mean it wasn’t a bad spot to be in. You could feel him underneath your already drenched clothing. “The fight makin’ your eggplant rise, Wolvie?” You teased him, by pressing against his clothe bulge.

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” He sneered back. As he pushed you onto the seat. He grabbed the knives out of your hand and threw them out. He used the seatbelts to tie your hands together, and you both calmed down for a bit.

Man, the position you were in right now was sort of hot. You could feel your core begging him for it. You know he could smell the arousal from you, he always was when he first met you. You were a horny sonofabitch.

He’s been trying to ignore it this whole time, but he's done with that bullshit. “Quick question, is it made out of metal?” You broke the silence. “What?” He grumbled. “Your dick, because if it is—” He pulled the mask off just a bit to see your nose and mouth, and pulled you in for an aggressive kiss.

His tongue discovering your whole mouth. You didn’t hold back either, engaging with his tongue. He had his hand on your hips sliding to unbuckling your pants. Once he did, he saw your damp panties.

It was a pretty pink color with a small bow in the front. He almost thought it was a little cute. Hell, you were so soaked for him. He peels off your underwear to reveal your puffy cunt. He pulled off his gloves with his teeth and inserted two digits into you.

You squeal at the sudden push. He didn’t need lube or anything because of how soaking wet you were. His fingers curl at you clenching onto him. His finger pumped in a rough circular motion. “All wet from me?” he groans, his pants tighten. “Don’t let it get to you, wolf boy.” You grinned, it was getting tougher to breathe as you could feel your first orgasm.

Once Logan felt you getting too close, he withdrew his fingers. You let out a pout. “What the fuck, dickhead?” Your cunt was pulsing for his touch. You tried squeezing your thighs together to make some friction. He let out a bitter chuckle.

You knew how ridiculous you must look right now. He pulled your legs apart as he inserted his fingers again. Repeating the same pumping motion just to pull out again at the brink of your orgasm.

He was teasing you, and he loved every moment of it. He kept your legs apart, making sure you couldn’t create any friction at all. You had to sit there shaking, as you needed a release so bad. Even the slightest bit.

You knew that fuckers was trying to get you to beg for it. You cussed at him everytime he withdrew his fingers when you were close. “Don’t wanna talk now, huh?” He laughed. “Fuck. You.” You sneered at him.

Your hands were still tied to the seatbelt. He flicked your clit, making you jolt from the sensation. His face got close to your puffy folds and he blew cold air onto it, making you arch. You felt a warmth entering your folds.

His tongue explored your folds in and out. You came immediately at the feeling, and heard him chuckling. He didn’t let you ride it out; he just kept on going. Your thighs trembled at him eating you out.

He did not need to be this good at it, it made you feel dizzy from the feeling. He looked at you with desire in his eyes. “God, Wolvie, you are an animal.” You spoke with a tremble. He ripped another orgasm from you this time letting you ride it out.

He wiped his face from your slick and unbuckled his own pants. Your jaw almost dropped by the size of it. It was fucking hugh. “Oh my honey buns!! How do you expect that to fit inside— mphm!” He covered your mouth, “It’ll fit.” He angles himself to your entrance.

He slides into you with ease and a soft moan escapes your lips and that was his trigger. Your legs straddle against his hips. His hips buckle against you. He lets you adjust to him before he starts pounding into your weeping cunt.

This man was going to ruin every man for you. The way he's grinding against you endlessly got you drunk on him enough. Strings of moans and satisfaction left your mouth. He held the fat of your ass, while his other hand was pushing down on your stomach.

“Look at you, struggling to talk, hm?” He grunted, he had that shit eating grin on him. As much as you wanted to say something it was hard real hard. “F—uck, fuck, fuck, Wolvie.” You spat his name out. He felt your clenching and how deliciously you were squeezing his cock.

He rocks his hips into you, as his pace is relentless. The blood rushes into your head as your third orgasm is pulled. His cock covered by your slick. “Aren’t you just a slut? Coming on my cock like that.” He scolded.

His claw came out and you flinched. “Calm down, bub.” He hissed, he cut the seatbelt off of you. Your hands were finally free, you moved them around to wake them up after being in the same position for a long time.

He pushes your head down, “Ah, open.” He grunts, you comply, planning to bite his dick off. Which your plan completely foils, “If you bite it off, I’m not letting you cum.” He added, you made what seemed to be a grumble noise.

But your mouth stuffed with his cock, who knows. He pushes your head deeper into his girth. Your tongue wrapped around his length. It was quite salty, groans and grunts escaped from his mouth as your head bobs.

You could tell he was getting close by the way he pushed your head down further, almost getting you to gag on it. He eventually releases down your throat, having you choke on it a little. It had a salty and bitter taste, but it wasn’t so terrible.

You found his mouth pressed against yours, again. His rough yet somewhat passionate kiss, led you on top of his body. You both let go to catch your breath, and you felt his cock hit your back.

‘Fuck’ you cursed mentality. It was hard, again. He lifted your hips up where your cunt met his cock again, and it perfectly kissed your cervix. You let out a harsh moan, and instinctively started to grind on him.

He held his hand around your hips, basically guiding your hips in a motion. “Right there, princess.” He grunted. Your thigh trembles from the overwhelming sensation. You don’t even know if you could come again.

Even though your body rapidly regenerates, you still get tired. Unlike this mad man, he could go on forever. You push those thoughts away as you try to give him one last orgasm. The circular motion began to pick up speed.

Your hips sway against him and your cunt bouncing on top of his length. Your hands on his chest while your head limps forwards. He could tell you were getting desperate from how sloppy you were moving.

Yeah he might have tried killing you multiple times after your “Educated Wish” situation, but he was still a gentleman. Having a soft spot for women even if it means including you. “Where do you want it, princess?” He huffed which drew you back to reality.

“God, Inside, please.” You whined. You came for the fourth time, and as your walls clench onto his cock. His warm seed fills you, painting your pretty walls. Making a mess on his lap. You instantly fall asleep on top of him.

Your snores, making him realize you were knocked out. He pulled out and a whine escaped your lips, losing the warmth that he provided. He was a gentleman enough to redress you. He decided he’ll figure out what to do with you tomorrow.

He tried pulling you away from his chest, but you held on tight, so he gave up and fell asleep with you on him anyways.

[n0tamused]

I read about this practice in china called "ghost wedding" where one of or two deceased individuals are ceremoniously married and i was wondering if you could do a ghost!reader(fem) x zhongli where she just hangs around him as his ghost wife and it's just cute and fluffy(no necr0phil!a involved btw)

A/n: Hello! Thank you so much for your request. This turned out a bit more bittersweet than just cute and fluffy but I did my best to stay close to the request idea. I have researched the tradition, but I still kept it a bit more vague here just out of respect. If there's anything wrong with how I wrote this I would appreaciate it if you kindly let me know <3 I haven't written for Zhongli, this sweet old man, in a good long while too aaa.. Hope you enjoy!

Contents: Zhongli x fem!reader, angst, bittersweet, dead s/o

Ko-fi

Lover's Oath

The morning was fresh and crisp even as the sun sent lances of light through the gloomy clouds, bathing the earth in scarce golden rays. Zhongli had only began to stir, his dreamless sleep having provided little comfort to his mind which the erosion slowly began to gnaw on. The other side of the bed still held your weight, feeling wisps of your warmth that he forbid himself to forget. You were there (once), even if he did not feel you.

Sometimes he could catch glimpses of a starlit shadow from the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at it his eyes only met the vastness of his home. You were there (once), illuminating the home with your presence alone. 

Zhongli rose from his bed, the sheets sliding off of him as if someone helped him to undress himself off the covers. There were two cups on the counter where he had drank his tea before bedtime, deep into the night, and the liquid in the other cup was cold, yet he could swear some of it was missing. He did not dwell on it, only smiling as he took it as a sign of your presence for it meant you were still with him.

Hu Tao had not been so surprised when her Consultant confessed his plan to go through with this ‘ghost wedding’, yet she did worry for the old man’s heart. He had requested her presence at the procession, although the leading would be led by another person, he said. Hu Tao could not deny this invitation, it was sacred and sad and close to her own profession. One heart, one soul, one balance, that was what the marriage meant to him, it meant everything. Traditional or not, he had lingered long amidst the people of Liyue and began to feel in the same way they do, and your death had left a hole where his heart once was. So many years of union shattered in a mere moment. He thought he could mourn and pretend to move on, but the thought of your spirit becoming restless or barred from peace kept him up at night. He couldn’t get himself to get over the idea of separation from you, and so he went through with the marriage.

Ever since then, his home didn’t feel as empty, although it remained barren of your presence in the real sense of the world. You were there, he knew, but he could never touch you or hear you unless he was dreaming. And when he dreamt he dreamt of the two of you in places far away and bathed in golden colors and amber hues, his long locks of hair twirling between your teasing fingers. You’re smiling at him, laying in the field of flowers - glaze lilies and qingxin - and they seem to swallow you, cradle you. And he comes over to hug you as well, rolling with you in the bed of flowers the two of you planted.

His hands are led by something that lies beyond his mind while he hums a tune, the deep warmth of his tone rumbling through his throat, sounding like warm honey. He smiles at the memories, the warmer ones, as they appear behind his eyelids whenever he blinks and silently he sits down to drink the tea his hands poured, your cup now filled with a steaming blend of herbs that you once loved to go and pick with him. He could imagine you holding it now, sniffing at the aromatic steam and going in to taste it before he says “Be careful, it is still too hot”.

When he leaves home, the warmth leaves as well and work consumes him. Hu Tao had noticed his lack of conversation, his usual chattiness replaced by longer paragraphs on the paper, and she had made a habit of stopping by to question him and how he was, if he needed anything. But every time she did, Zhongli would smile his sweet smile and tell her everything was alright, he felt better now.

And he did. He just missed you, he told himself as he ventured back home, noticing one light had been turned on, or perhaps he left it that way since morning. But the cup of tea was missing some of the liquid and there was a smell of incense in the air. A few petals from the flowers he brought the other day were scattered around the house, and one petal, more vibrant than the others, lay in the middle of his pillow.

You were here. He wasn’t alone. His wife was here, his dearest.

The thought made him smile, sadly, but he smiled earnestly until his cheeks hurt and his eyes swelled with salty tears.

That night he left your cup of tea full. He hugged his pillow that night as well, his nose searching for your scent in the fabric and that night he dreamed of you, waiting for him in front of a house amidst golden clouds.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 6)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Quickly, you closed the lockbox and shoved it back into its hiding place, hoping against hope that Thomas wouldn't notice anything amiss. You stood up, smoothing out your dress and taking a deep breath before making your way up the stairs to meet your husband.

But as you climbed the stairs, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of what you had just discovered. How long had Thomas been watching you? How long had he been planning this?

Was it all just a twisted game to him, luring you into his web of lies and deceit? These questions swirled around in your head, making you feel dizzy and disoriented.

"What are you doing down here, Love?" Tommy asked as you walked towards him as he waited for you half-way up the stairs on which you were now standing.  His voice was gentle, but his eyes held a questioning look, almost as if he knew something was off. You quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind, forcing a smile on your face.

"I was just feeling a bit lonely and thought I'd come down and get a bottle of wine from the cellar," you lied, praying that Thomas wouldn't be able to tell. "Is that alright?"

Tommy regarded you for a moment before nodding slowly. "Of course, it is," your husband told you, his voice still gentle. 

There was a bead of sweat on your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel like Tommy knew exactly what you had found in the cellar. But how could he? It wasn't possible. You had only discovered it just now, and you had been careful not to leave any evidence behind.

Still, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You tried to act normal, but every second that passed made it harder and harder to keep up the charade. 

When you walked back upstairs with your husband and a bottle of wine in your hand,  you could barely focus on the conversation.

Every time Thomas looked at you with his intense blue eyes, your heartbeat quickened, and your mind racing with questions that you couldn't answer.

You tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it lingered like a dark cloud over your head and that could remained there all night, even when you were intimate with the man you married. 

***

The following day, while your husband was out again for business, you went to the cellar again and discovered that there was a methodical process to the way that Thomas had rid himself of any obstacle that stood in his way.

His planning was impeccable, and his reach extended far beyond what you could have imagined.

The information in the lockbox revealed that there was no corner of your past that Thomas had not infiltrated.

He had targeted each and every one of your previous relationships, ensuring that they would end abruptly and tragically. The police reports indicated that the causes of death ranged from car accidents to suicide, but you couldn't help but suspect that he had a hand in each of them.

It was a terrifying realization, and one that made you question everything about your husband and your marriage. It was true that Thomas had always been protective of you, but you had never suspected that he would go to such extremes to keep you by his side.

In addition, you quickly learned that you had also been somewhat naive when it came to thinking that your husband was an honest and reputable businessman.  As you delved deeper into the information contained in the lockbox, you realized that Thomas was not only a gangster, but also a ruthless criminal with a violent streak. You had been aware of his involvement with organized crime, but you had no idea of the extent to which it permeated every aspect of his life.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and betrayal as you sifted through the documents revealing Thomas's true nature. You had trusted him, loved him, and devoted yourself to him, but he had manipulated you from the very beginning.

You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when Thomas had swept you off your feet with his charm and charisma. You had been so blinded by love that you had overlooked the warning signs of his controlling behavior.

But now, the truth was staring you in the face and you knew that you had leave him without a second thought.

You could no longer bear the thought of his hands on you , his lips on yours. Every kiss, every touch was tainted by the knowledge of his twisted games.

You couldn't help but wonder what would become of you if you left. Would Thomas let you go peacefully, or would he come after you with a vengeance? You didn't know the answer, but you knew that you had to take the risk.

You made up your mind and gathered your belongings. As you prepared to leave, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

You felt light, free, and most importantly, alive. The thought of the life you had been living up until nowmade your skin crawl. You never realized that the man who you thought was your soulmate, the man you vowed to spend the rest of your life with, could be someone so dangerous and manipulative.

You walked out of the mansion, taking in a deep breath as you walked towards one of the Bentleys and opened the boot.

You placed your belongings inside, before slamming it shut and taking a step back. There was no turning back now, you needed to get away from him and fast.

You slid into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition and putting the car into reverse. As you drove out of the gates of the mansion, your heart raced.

Each new mile that separated you from Thomas felt like a victory, yet it was also tinged with fear. But the thought of never having to feel his icy grip on your heart again made you determined.

You had always known deep down that something was off about Thomas, but your heart had blinded you to the truth. Now, you knew without a shadow of doubt that he was dangerous, and there was only one way to protect yourself - by getting as far away from him as possible.

You had some money on you, but not much. It was barely enough to get you on to a train to London and from there, you'd have to figure something else out. You glanced at the mansion one more time before driving away, your heart racing with fear and anticipation.

As you drove, you couldn't help but wonder about Thomas and whether he would try to find you .

You told yourself that you were being paranoid, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived at Birmingham Train Station . You parked your car in the farthest corner of the lot, hoping that it wouldn't be spotted by anyone who might be looking for you.

You glanced around nervously, checking to see if you were being followed. Seeing no one, you made your way into the train station.

The station was bustling with activity, but you couldn't help but feel like every pair of eyes were on you. You purchased a ticket to London and made your way to the platform, trying to blend in with the other passengers.

Your heart raced as the train pulled up, and you boarded, taking a seat in a relatively empty carriage. You gazed out of the window, watching the city of Birmingham disappear into the distance as the train sped through the countryside.

The landscape was a comforting distraction from the turmoil of your thoughts. You couldn't believe what you had discovered about Thomas - it seemed like a twisted nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You wondered if he would even notice that you were gone, or if he already had other plans in motion to track you down and it was then when an older looking gentleman took a seat across from you in the train car.

He looked at you in a way that made you feel nervous , but you couldn't put your finger on why. He seemed kind enough, but something about him felt off.

You tried to ignore his gaze and looked out the window again, taking in the picturesque countryside as it rushed past you.

The gentleman across from you spoke up, introducing himself as George. You hesitated for a moment before responding politely, still wary of him.

As the train journey went on, George engaged you in light conversation, asking about your plans in London and your thoughts on the beautiful scenery outside.

You found yourself gradually relaxing in his presence, enjoying the distraction from the chaos of your thoughts while still remaining smart and reserved, not giving anything away about your past or plans for the future. 

As the train pulled into London's Euston Station, George assisted you with your luggage as you disembarked the train but, just as you stepped out of the carriage, George waved towards two men  who were standing near the exit of the platform.

These men didn't catch your attention initially, but their sudden movement towards you made you feel uneasy, and you knew in your gut that something was off.

As such, you took your suitcase from Goerge's hands and quickened your pace, trying to make your way through the crowds of people at the station, but you could feel George and his men following closely behind you. You tried to maintain your composure as a surge of fear coursed through your veins, knowing that you couldn't let them see how terrified you really were.

"Going somewhere Mrs Shelby?" another man then said, suddenly appearing in front of you , effectively blocking your escape route. This man was younger than George, but still significantly older than you and his dark hair and green eyes gave off a cold, intimidating vibe as he scrutinized you with an intense gaze.

You hesitated before answering, trying to keep your voice steady when you finally spoke up. "I-I'm just here to visit a friend in London," you said, swallowing the lump of fear that had formed in your throat. "I don't know why you're bothering me."

The young man chuckled humorlessly.

"A friend, you say? I find that hard to believe, Mrs. Shelby."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. How did this stranger know who you were? Had Thomas already discovered that you had left? Was this man working for him?

Before you could react, the man lifted up his suit jacket, indicating that he had a gun . The sight of it was enough to make your heart stop.

"You are coming with us," he said, his voice as cold as ice.

The words hung heavy in the air, and a sense of helplessness washed over you. The crowds of people passing by paid no mind to the scene unfolding before them, leaving you feeling isolated and exposed.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament.

You thought of screaming for help or trying to run past them. But common sense took over, reminding you that these men were trained and likely armed. They could easily overpower you or worse, put a bullet in your head without hesitation.

It was a terrifying thought, one that sent a chill down your spine.

The man with the cold, green eyes studied you for a moment before motioning to his companions. "Take her," he instructed quietly. "But be nice to her. She is precious cargo, and her husband demands that you take the upmost care in returning her to him unharmed," he then chuckled and, before you knew what was happening, rough hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from the crowd and towards an awaiting car. You struggled against their grip, but it was no use – they were too strong.

As you were pushed into the back seat of the car, you stole a glance out of the window.

The busy streets of London were a blur, and you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. You had been so foolish to think that you could escape from Thomas Shelby, the man whose ambition knew no bounds and who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted.

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[aniesvision]

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

𐂂 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 ��𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚, 𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒚! 𝒊 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒐... 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I actually leave the room to go see Matt. I knock twice on the door and he opens it, smiling when he sees me and pulling me inside with one of his hands.  

-Nick got into that crazy story of Chris and I being in love with each other, again. -I say, throwing myself onto his bed and staring at the ceiling.  

-He'll never give up. -Matt laughs and lies down next to me.  

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I let my face turn until it meets Matt's and stare at him in confusion.  

-Chris thinks you and I have something. -I say, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to react.

Matt's eyes widen and he stares at the ceiling again, thinking. Finally, seeming to have turned on a light above his head, he stands up and quickly picks up his phone.  

-Stay here, I'll be right back. -He says, with a suspicious smile on his face, but I decide to do as he says.  

I took off my sneakers and lay down more comfortably on the bed, pulling my own phone out of my pocket and starting to watch tiktoks while I waited for whatever it was I was waiting for.  

𝑷𝑶𝑽 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻  

-Chris thinks you and I have something.  

The girl says, confused. I stare at the ceiling, trying to think of some reason why Chris would see her as my girlfriend and what could make him so stressed that he irritates her every day. And then a light appeared at the end of my tunnel of thoughts. I came out of the bedroom and found Nick on one of the couches in the living room, Chris was on the other, so I texted Nick so as not to attract Chris's attention and we went up to his room.  

-What's up, Matt? -He asks, looking at me with confusion and slight irritation.  

My smile gets even wider.  

-Our dear Chris has a crush on our new friend. -I say with my arms crossed and laugh.  

-What? WHAT?! I mean, I always imagined that he treated her like a child when he wanted to get attention from his crushes at school, but how did you come to that conclusion?  

Nick crosses his arms, thoughtful and eager for the gossip.  

-She came into my room saying that Chris had said that he thinks we have something.  

-It was in the living room, I was there, and he said sarcastically that she was going to your room and called you her “little boyfriend”. After she asked if he was jealous, he shut his mouth.  

Nick and I looked at each other, without a reaction good enough to describe. At that moment, a gear turned in my head and I knew I had to help Chris see this through.  

-We need to get them talking. -Nick says quickly. I agreed, looking around and thinking of a perfect opportunity.  

-We could lock them both in the house. -I say, letting my intrusive thoughts take over.  

-That's actually a great idea.  

Nick and I look at each other confused, but excited.  

-We could go out early tomorrow and get all the keys, and she could sleep in your room tonight just so we can tell Chris about it and see how he reacts. -Nick explains everything excitedly and I go along with him, wondering what else we could do and if anything could go wrong.  

-It has to work. -I say, taking a deep breath.  

-We're going to get this couple together. -Nick puts his hands on my shoulders and forces me to look into his eyes, which are comforting.

I nodded and we left. I returned to my room to find her lying comfortably on my bed and decided to start the plan.  

-Hey, can you sleep here tonight? I know you usually stay at Nick's, but I want to talk to you and watch something. -I say, running my hand over the back of my neck in nervousness.  

-Sure, Matt, no problem. -She replies with a cute smile.  

-Great. -I replied, smiling.  

I lie back down next to her and the girl rests her head on my shoulder, watching tiktoks. I turn my body slightly in her direction, playing with a lock of her hair, distracted by my own thoughts. 

𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻'𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑽

 

Matt and I had been lying together without exchanging a word since he came back. It wasn't bad, for me at least, it was comfortable to know that we could just enjoy each other's company without too much effort. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for my peace to end once again. Two knocks on the door were heard and there was no waiting time before it was opened.  

-Ew. -Chris says, looking at us. -Anyway, Nick and I want McDonald's, stop being disgusting and let's go.  

Matt sits on his bed, looking at his brother with a suspicious smile, and then gets up, holding out a hand to help me. I lock my phone and accept the help, then get up and look at Chris, who is staring at us with a frown.  

As usual, Nick and I sat in the back seats while Matt drove and Chris sat in the passenger seat. I hummed to the songs along the way and soon we arrived at the drive-through.  

-What do you want? -Matt asks, opening the window.  

-Nuggets, medium fries and a large Pepsi. -Chris says, using his phone.  

-Dr. Pepper and large fries. -Nick says, looking at me to make me say what I want.  

-I don't want anything, I'm fine. -I say, with a shy smile.  

The idea of coming here came out of the blue and I really wasn't expecting to eat anything just yet.  

-You sure? -Matt looks at me confused and I just nod.  

After taking our orders, Matt stops the car in a parking lot and they decide to record a video. It was late at night and the place was empty, which is normal for them and strange for me. Nick went out to set up the camera and asked Chris to ask questions on their Instagram account.  

-Chris, give me your phone, she's going to read the questions today. -Nick takes the device from his brother, hands it to me and I look at him with a huge smile.  

-What? But she shouldn't even be here, why is she going to read the questions? -Chris arches his eyebrow in confusion and a little irritation, which makes Matt laugh and exchange a quick glance with Nick, who then rolls his eyes.  

-People who watch us like her, and so do we, you're just being annoying, so shut up. -Nick replies, running a hand through his hair and making me laugh.  

We started recording the intro and I soon chose a few questions while the three of them were discussing something.  

-Ok, would you rather be stuck on an island with someone you hate or completely alone? -I asked, turning my gaze to Matt.  

-Alone, for sure. -He replies, thinking about the question.  

-Alone, I'd end up killing the person I hate anyway. -Nick says, making me laugh.  

-If the person I hate is her, I'd rather be alone. -Chris replies, pointing a finger in my direction and taking a sip of his Pepsi.  

-Chris, you don't even hate her, you're just afraid to confess your feelings. -Nick looks at him with an arched eyebrow.  

Matt looks out of the window, not wanting to give his opinion, but with an obvious smile on his face. I just stare at Nick as if he's crazy and Chris grimaces, rolling his eyes and changing the subject, without even answering his older brother's provocation.  

It's strange, he always retorts when it's about me, but maybe he just doesn't want to cause chaos during a video. We spent forty minutes recording and apart from the parts where Chris insisted on testing my patience, I had a lot of fun.  

It was late when we got back to the boys' house and as soon as we were all in the living room, Matt left his car key on the counter and looked at me with a smile, walking towards me and wrapping me in a hug. I don't know where all this affection came from, but I wasn't going to complain.  

-What do you want to see today? -He asked, stroking my hair.

I could have sworn I saw a smile on Nick's face when he walked past us both to sit on the couch, but I decided to ignore it.  

-Hm, can we marathon Brooklyn 99? It's been a while since I've watched it. -I asked, moving away just enough to look him in the face.  

-Are you going to sleep in the living room? -Chris asks, confused, looking at us with his phone in hand.  

-She's sleeping with me tonight. -Matt replies, exchanging a quick glance with Nick. This is starting to get suspicious.  

-You're sleeping together? -Chris asked, with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

-Yes, is there a problem? -Matt asks teasingly.  

-No, it's just that she always sleeps with Nick. -Chris replies, running a hand over his hair.  

-Well, tonight she's sleeping with me. -That's the last thing Matt says before he takes me by the hand and interlocks our fingers, pulling me into his room.  

As soon as the boy closes the door, I look at him in confusion.  

-What was that? -I cross my arms, knowing that the way he and Nick had looked at each other several times during the day, the way he was treating me more affectionately than usual, and sending teasing hints to Chris was a little different.  

-I don't know what you're talking about. -He replies innocently, picking up a set of pajamas and leaving the room with a smile, leaving the door open.

I let out a sigh and took off my jacket, leaving it leaning against the desk chair and hearing footsteps in the hallway.  

-Hi. -Chris says, appearing in the doorway and looking around.  

-Matt's in the bathroom. -I answer, quickly and simply, putting my phone on the nightstand.  

-I know. -He says, giving me a confused look.  

I wait for him to say something else and the boy takes a few steps forward, catching up with me.

-So you and Matt are... together? -He asks, with a brief pause between the words.  

-Would it matter to you if we were? -I ask back, crossing my arms out of patience.  

-No, I just wanted to... you know what? Forget it. It doesn't matter. -The brunette fumbles over his words, getting stressed and running a hand through his hair before huffing angrily and leaving the room.  

I don't even need to think about how strange that was considering it came from Chris and he's nothing but crazy at this point. But I confess that a small part of me was curious as to why he had come to ask me about Matt and I. It shouldn't be a big deal, but what’s got into him that he asked me instead of his own brother?  

I grabbed my pajamas from my backpack, which I had brought from Nick's room to Matt's, and waited sitting on the bed until the boy showed up. As soon as he walked through the door with a smile and was ready for bed, I made my way to the bathroom and locked the door.

I changed my clothes and then looked in the mirror, not liking the way my reflection looked. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and fixed my hair. I took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and turning my body slightly to make sure everything was in place.  

As soon as I came out of the bathroom, to my surprise, Chris was walking down the hall towards Matt's room. Again. Without saying anything, I just followed my own path and entered the room, ignoring Chris's gaze and sitting down next to Matt on the bed.  

-What is it, Chris? -Matt asked calmly, looking at his brother leaning against the doorframe.  

I stared at him in confusion, leaning on the headboard and crossing my legs. Matt was in front of me with his legs off the bed and lying down slightly, with one arm supporting his body and his eyes now focused on his younger brother.  

-I need you to drop me off somewhere tomorrow. -The boy replies, taking his phone out of his pocket.  

-Where? -Matt sits back down on the bed, staring at him in confusion.  

-A restaurant, I'm taking a girl out.  

Chris lets a smile slip from his face, I must be going completely mad but it seemed very sarcastic and he seemed to stare into the depths of my soul as the words left his mouth. I rolled my eyes, thinking it was funny that he wanted some kind of reaction from me.  

-I don't know if you know this, but it's rude to force people to go out with you. -I say, watching the smile that was on his face disappear as quickly as it appeared.  

-I'm not forcing anything, she wants to. -He replies, shrugging.  

-Of course she does. -I let out a sarcastic laugh.

-It's not as if it's difficult, girls want to go out with me all the time, and they have lots of reasons, now you? I don't know what Matt sees in you, you're just a waste of time, you may be cute, but you're so boring and weird that it doesn't make sense for anyone to want you.  

Chris crossed his arms as he spoke, completely ignoring the fact that his brother was there too. He had a victorious look on his face for having taken me by surprise with his speech. What an asshole.  

-So you think I'm cute? -I ask, with a smirk.  

Matt's eyes widen, as he looks between me and Chris. It looked like he was going to take out a bowl of popcorn at any moment, he didn't even try interrupting us.  

This time it was Chris who was taken by surprise, and I saw his eyes widen a little before he uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the doorframe, taking a few steps into the room.  

-Of all the things I've said, you've only heard this? -He scoffs. -Of course you’d be a stupid narcissist too, I don't know what I expected, honestly. -Chris gestures as he speaks, pulling out Matt’s gamer chair and sitting down in it, looking at me as if he's bored.  

-No, I also heard the part you said about Matt, that looks like jealousy to me. -I smile even more, finding the situation funny now.  

-Jealous? Of what? You two can fucking make out or whatever you want, I've got nothing to do with this shit. -Chris rolls his eyes.  

I looked at Matt, who was trying to hold in his laughter, but still didn't seem ready to say anything that would make this little fight end. I, on the other hand, had had enough of listening to Chris and just wanted to spend some more time with my friend before going to sleep like normal people do.  

-Matt and I have nothing but friendship, not that I need to give you any satisfaction, but can you leave us alone now and go back to talking to the poor girl who's going to have her heart broken in a few weeks? -I say, my voice more serious this time.  

Chris looks back and forth between me and Matt for a few seconds. Matt just nods in confirmation of what I'm saying, leaving his brother a little confused, since until now he thought we were together. I don't know where that thought came from, but at least Matt is an amazing person, and I don't feel a bit bad knowing that he thought he'd be with me like that.  

The look of confusion on Chris's face was very evident to everyone in the room, but he just shook his head in denial and left without saying another word after that, closing the door with some unnecessary force on the way out.  

-Why didn't you say anything? -I asked Matt, throwing a pillow at him.  

-I was enjoying watching you argue. -He replies, laughing.  

We talked for a few more long minutes and watched a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 together until my eyes got heavy and we decided to go to sleep. Matt turned off the light and left a kiss on my forehead before turning to one side of the bed and me to the other.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @flower-sturns @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties @sturnioloblues

[amaranthineghost]

DOUBT SEEPS INTO ME AND I CAN’T GET IT TO STOP (BUT YOU CAN) ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x reader

uncertainty plagues her mind, and self-sabotage looms over her shoulder, as if its whispering in her ear to tell her it’s a bad idea. he still manages to be the voice on top of all her doubts at the end of the day.

authors note: literally wrote this because this is how i felt while i waited for the days to pass so i could ask the guy i like for his number. mf got me feeling in love and shit, listening to mitski and lana del rey, writing fucking poems. liking a guy is the best and worst thing ever. gonna work on other things soon tho!

THE THOUGHT OF LOVE twisted her stomach into knots. even the mere thought of simply asking a guy for his number made her body churn with anxiety and the looming feeling of rejection held over her head.

relationships never lasted for her because she wouldn’t let them, the idea of getting too attached and the possibility of it shattering her heart was too great to risk it. she would watch from afar, stalk his socials, but never had the guts to approach him, or even look his way.

all throughout high school, she dreamed of a relationship that others around her had, but she lacked everything they didn’t. social skills were never her things, and confidence was something she always lacked. she just wanted to be a teenage girl in love, and she wouldn’t get that. she wasn’t sure she ever would.

she felt as though she was unloveable. even though it was so easy for her to give love, it was far harder to accept it. if anything, it was impossible for her to even imagine doing so. her trust was a thin thread that always seemed to snap. no matter how many times she tried to re-tie it, it always came back undone.

it wasn’t like she never liked any guys, boy she did, but the chase factor was a part of every single one. she never had guys come to her, and she would never go to a guy. still, she chased and chased, yet she never caught up. she worried she never would.

she worried she would never experience the thrill of being in a relationship, all because that thrill was shrouded with anxiety, uncertainty and distrust, though the distrust mostly lied within herself. deeply rooted in her brain was the idea that she wasn’t capable of ever accepting she could be loved, that someone would ever be so patient, understanding, and wanting.

she wanted it so bad, yet she felt like this. it felt stupid, she felt stupid. she felt like a walking contradiction because she couldn’t make up her mind. her heart wanted one thing, and her mind shut it out. a defense mechanism that she felt could never disable, that tinkering with it would only worsen the intensity. deep breaths only temporarily stopped the nausea that plagued her stomach, but only giving the man, the one she so desperately craved to be with, up would change how she felt.

she was a hopeless romantic at heart, but at mind, she was never going to let love in. as much as she held out her accepting arms, vines adorned with thorns grew through her veins, lacing her fingertips with sharp edges to cut back anyone who would try to get close.

the week leading up to finally getting his number went by so painfully slow; she had built herself up too high in those days. she worried she would come crumbling down before she even managed the chance of getting close. from afar she watched, glances exchanged and she gushed to her friends, but she could never be so sure that they were meant for her. after all, she was just an employee for ferrari, he was an athlete in the sport.

her friends were unsure if the brunette was the right fit for the girl, if he was even attainable at all. he was known for being a red flag among fans, he literally drives for a team based around the color red. she didn’t care, she was convinced he was right for her, but still she was scared she wasn’t his type. she knew he wasn’t taken, his entire private life, which was never even private to begin with, was broadcasted across the internet. if he had found someone new, she would know, and for now he hadn’t.

oh, she desperately wanted to be a wag. who wouldn’t? her job made it complicated though, she worked under the team, she didn’t have authority anywhere, she was a nobody. she never knew how she managed to catch his striking gaze to begin with.

she thought she would’ve looked like an idiot, an awkward, nervous girl in front of the charles leclerc, prince of ferrari. she felt like one, maybe she was, but the way he looked down at the shorter girl gave her the courage she needed to mutter the words she had thought about saying everyday for the past week.

“uh—could i get your number?” she barely managed out, she was nervous, it was evident in her tone and the way her voice was up an octave. his brunette hair and green eyes were enchanting, she had fantasized about him for that week. she even went as far as making a playlist to listen to to occupy her time, laying around when she wasn’t at her job. she had never been this lovesick for a guy in her entire life until she first laid eyes on him.

the sick feeling in her stomach became all too familiar, she hated it at first, but now she began to feel comfort in the sickness, and began to miss it over the weekend. the mopey love feeling of hopelessness while listening to lana del rey, or mitski. the fantasization of how the scenario would play out in her favor etched itself into her brain.

the moment of silence was harsh, she could feel the rejection coming. she braced herself for it, holding her breath.

he looked down at her with those damn eyes, a certain gleam in the light reflection over his pupils, part of her knew his response before he did. a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he pursed his lips to hide the smile forcing its way on his face.

he couldn’t deny the pretty girl in front of him, he could tell she dolled herself up for this, for him. he wouldn’t let her efforts go to waste, but that wasn’t the sole reason he didn’t reject her. her confidence sparked something inside of him.

he had plenty of girls who threw themselves at him, buying him drinks, or whatever they could to get their hands on him and themselves in his bed. she was different, a breath of fresh air in the fog. her awkward nervousness was endearing. he hadn’t meant to leave her hanging so long, but he admired her.

his smile brightened, looking down at the phone she clutched so tightly, her skin began turning white. “of course, darling.”

she certainly hadn’t expected to hear the words and yet she did. she was so unprepared, scrambling through her phone. should she write it in her notes app? should she go ahead and shoot him a text? what should she send? should she send a ‘hi’ text? should she send him an imessage game? the music she had listened to throughout the week hadn’t prepared her for this.

his brow raised at her, his arms crossed in front of him as he watched her panic slightly. he was so patient, waiting for her cue that she was ready to take his number and save it in her phone. he recited the string of numbers to her and she smiled internally. she was so giddy inside, yet she couldn’t show it. she couldn’t show how much this excited her, but she would talk her friend’s ear off at her actions because for once she had done something to take a step forward towards a relationship she wanted.

“thank you!” she squeaked out, mentally facepalming—she sounded a little too grateful for something as simple as his phone number. she couldn’t wait to run far away and into the corner of her work office, hiding behind her job position.

he smiled as she scurried off, looking at his phone as it lit up at the movement. he knew to expect the text from the girl later, not now though, because he could feel the nervousness radiating from her body.

later that night, he had received the very text he had been waiting to see. an unsaved number with a blank contact photo he knew was her without reading the contents of the message. his stomach fluttered at the words in the texts, and the following imessage game, 8 ball. it was oh, so endearing to him.

the text contained a simple ‘hiii’ and a simple reminder that she was the girl who asked for his number—as if he had been handing his number out to other people. he texted back, it was simple enough because he didn’t want to scare her off, but he also didn’t want her to overwhelm with worry that he just wasn’t interested in her. he was.

simple texts throughout the day, telling each other what they’re doing, company lunches whenever they had time. flying her out to watch his races, inviting her to his driver's room to watch the race from there because the possibility of their relationship becoming a reality was just a secret for now. the entire process he was just so understanding, it baffled her. he was gentle, like a dog laying their head in your lap, so blissful and light. days he would lay across a couch with his head in her lap as he let her mess with the strands of his dark, brunette hair. she commented on different, potential haircuts his mother could give him and he chuckled at the ridiculous ones she suggested.

something so simple showed her the trust he gave her, the trust he was slowly earning.

slowly, they hung out more. instead of spending his time in clubs after podiums, he spent time with her in his drivers room, or a restaurant about to close—he would leave a hefty tip for the inconvenience.

eventually, she would appear in his garage, watching with a headset on her ears, simply posing as a ferrari employee holding more importance than she really did—except to charles, she held all the importance in the world.

she never knew how he didn’t get pricked by the thorns adorning her body, how not a scratch tainted his even skin, not a drop of blood.

maybe it was because he knew that behind the thorns that laced her body, waiting was a rose. a reward so sacred and so fragile. to be shielded from the world in his very arms was her trust, her love, her mind, her thoughts, her everything.

in his arms, she felt everything she longed for; security, openness, trust, loyalty. he showed her what her heart was worth.

—

taglist (found here): @decafmickey @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej @thearchieves @soamericn

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[zara-renata]

Sleepy time with Xavier | ao3 | my other lads fic

Summary: You suffer from chronic fatigue and worry that Xavier is only placating you when he says it's fine on the occasions you're too exhausted to follow through on plans together. On one such bad day, he reassures you in a way that you can no longer doubt.

Notes:

And now for something entirely different from the Sylus series (regular readers, please don't stab me in the face). I am bursting with ideas for the Sylus fic and will continue posting regular updates as before (work permitting), but I was directly inspired by @starfallforest's fic about how, due to his evol, Xavier lights up like a supernova when he orgasms, and bends space-time so that you can feel what he feels and the lines of identity blur between him and his lover. I had insomnia the other night and kept thinking about the hurt/comfort possibilities of being able to literally feel your lover's feelings, and I want to use that idea in the Sylus fic because there are hints that he can enter dreams and manipulate consciousness, so this is my thank you to a sweet person who inspired the idea. Xavier x fem!reader, Xavier x mc, second person POV This story contains: mc with chronic fatigue, hurt/comfort, bottom!xavier, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), tried to keep the sex more sensual than explicit but it's there. My first attempt at "smut", hope it's demure, hope it's classy. I normally write gender neutral reader, but i find it really hard to leave out body parts when drafting sexual content so i went with fem reader here. If anyone wants this story as either gender neutral or male reader (both of which would slightly affect the descriptions of the sexy bits), let me know because it would be simple to adjust. But if no one is interested in Xavier or other LI content from me, then I figured one version should be sufficient.

You come awake slowly, still tangled in a strange dream in which you were on a planet that is strangely familiar even though you somehow knew it’s not your own. You were sheltering in ancient buildings clinging to a high, sloping cliffside spilling down into a gray, turbulent ocean. Everyone around you was afraid, and somehow you had the knowledge, the way one sometimes has in dreams, that this was the end of this world. You were one of the last survivors of all the calamities that had afflicted this crumbling planet until now, at the final end of all things. All who were left were now huddled along with you, watching the sea. The meteor was coming. Nothing could be done to stop it. If you didn’t see it in the sky, you would know it was time by the sudden retreat and then rise of the ocean waves.

You wake, just as the tide receded—you were waiting in frozen fear, trapped in the terrible knowledge that when the water returned, you and everyone you knew would be swept down and into it, the final gasp of life on a doomed planet.

As you come awake, your heart is racing. You feel your chest with your hand, running your fingertips over the pounding there while reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You squint at the screen—it’s nine in the morning on a Saturday. Normally you’d be stretching languidly, enjoying the fact that you are able to sleep in on the weekends instead of hurrying into work. But the dream’s deep dread—its exhausting terror—lingers, and your body feels so heavy. It’s nine in the morning, and you already know that today will be a Bad Day.

You don’t remember a time when you didn’t have chronic fatigue. Maybe when you were younger, you wouldn’t fear the days on which just the most basic of tasks required for daily life are simply too much for your depleted body. Where taking a shower, or doing the dishes, feels as daunting as running a marathon with no training, or pushing an SUV uphill with the emergency brake still on.

But now your fatigue is almost a constant companion. It seeps into your body, siphoning your strength on the worst possible days. You sometimes think that the energy stolen from you by this condition would be enough to power Linkon City for a year.

It’s Saturday, and you resign yourself to just curling up in bed and drifting until hunger, or the need to go to the bathroom, offer enough pressing incentive to drag your deadweight out from under your warm soft duvet.

***

Xavier lets himself into your apartment with the key you made specifically for him, since you use a fingerprint scanner to get in yourself. He slips out of his shoes and hangs up his jacket on the wall rack in the foyer. Something about the stillness of your place has him holding his tongue, when usually he’d call out softly to you to let you know he’s here. As he makes his way further into your home, he notes how the curtains are still drawn in the living room, and that the kitchen is tidy in a way that lets him know that you probably haven’t used it yet today.

It must be one of your bad days. He was looking forward to going to hotpot with you tonight, the date he knew you were also looking forward to this Saturday night, but he’s already reaching for his phone to call and cancel the reservation. His earbuds are in, so as he quietly lets the restaurant know you won’t be coming, he gets to work assembling snacks on a wooden cutting board and getting the kettle going for a caffeine free tea. He lifts the kettle from its base right before it begins to beep as it finishes warming up, and pours you a mug in the chipped World’s Greatest Hunter cup that Caleb gifted you when you graduated from the Hunter Academy. He then carefully carries everything back to your bedroom, where you’re curled up amidst the soft duvet and mountain of pillows and plushies so that only your hair is peeking up above the covers. He pauses, soaking in the sight, overcome with how adorable you are. His slow heartbeat hitches, for just a breath, at the gratitude of being able to see you like this, so close, instead of dreaming about you from a great distance.

He sets the board on one of your nightstands, lifts the steeping teabag from the mug and places it in the little bowl decorated with shooting stars. A gift from him since you love drinking calming tea so much. He then reaches back, pulling his cozy white hoody and undershirt from his torso and dumps them on the floor. His jeans are next, and then he’s lifting the duvet, slipping in behind you with a sigh. 

***

You come awake again—terribly relieved that this time your sleep was peaceful, dreamless—only to find your beautiful boyfriend’s warm body curled around yours. Maybe his solid presence at your back is why you didn’t have another unsettling dream.

You blink, coming to your senses all at once. You grab your phone from your nightstand and see that it’s well past the time you had agreed to head to the restaurant. 

You feel awful. You hate that your body betrays you like this, and so often ruins plans not only for you, but for your skilled warrior of a boyfriend too. Your sweet, curious explorer. So often you aren’t up to following through on plans the two of you make together on your precious days off from the stresses and risks of being a hunter. He has never complained, but you feel terrible, every time, for not having the energy to do even the most mundane of activities and ruining his rare chances for fun or relaxation as a result.

“Are you awake already?” his sleepy, soft voice drifts from behind you. He tightens his arms around you.

You snort. “Already? I wish.” Your stomach twists in hunger. “I should have gotten up hours ago. Why didn’t you wake me?” you ask forlornly.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your rest. And I can always use a nap.” You can hear the smile in his voice, right before you hear him yawn languidly.

You’re grateful that he never complains. You’re grateful that he never seems to be bothered by you having to flake out on plans, and never seems disappointed at last-minute cancellations. But you also can’t quite believe that his peaceful facade is the whole truth. There is always that undercurrent of worry lurking in your mind, wondering when he’ll finally have enough of being forced to deal with your condition. He rarely offers reassurance on his own—it’s only when you ask him, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”, that he always replies with a calm, “Of course.” You never quite believe him, despite your best efforts to trust him.

“Still. I’m so sorry that we missed plans, again, because of me,” you murmur, curling a little tighter into yourself.

He pushes himself up on his elbow. “C’mere.” He gently urges you to roll over and face him. He smiles down at you, his ocean eyes soft as they drift across your face. “I made you some tea, but I guess it’s probably cold by now. And also some snacks. Wanna watch the latest episode of Super Hunters?”

You just stare at his pretty face, struck again by how utterly lovely every part of him is. Not just the sweep of his nose, his generous mouth, the blond of his soft hair. But the inside of him too. Gentle. Kind.

“Are you sure you’re not upset?” you finally ask, heart aching with how much you love this man, hating the fact that you’re so needy for reassurance from him.

He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and runs his nose along your forehead, down one of your cheeks, before he brushes a feather-light kiss to the side of your mouth.

“I’m sure. I can think of so many things we can do, right here in this bed. Things that are just as fun as eating good hotpot,” he answers, eyes drifting from your eyes to your mouth, to the skin above your sleep tank top, and back again.

“Like watching Super Hunters?” you tease, lifting an eyebrow. Because you know him. And you know that one of the things he loves as much as eating good food, is loving you with his body.

“Like watching Super Hunters, or…” he reaches out and runs one finger along the curve of your breast. “If you’re not too tired, I’m happy to do all the work. But if you’re not up for it, I’m also happy to order in for us, and spend the rest of the night watching shows with you.”

This, too, you have trouble believing. He has never pressured you into intimacy, but you worry when he says it doesn’t bother him when your fatigue, your faulty body, affects this part of your relationship with him, as it does everything else. You don’t know how to reconcile the cognitive dissonance in your head—you know that Xavier is not the kind of man to feel entitled to sex, or to get angry for needing to cancel plans because his partner has a medical condition out of her control. And yet, you also feel guilty for not being able to offer him more consistency in both of these aspects of your shared life together.

You lie there, soaking in his beauty. Your eyes drift from his lovely face down his strong throat, the breadth of his shoulders, his defined pectorals. The darker blond trail of hair starting at his navel and drifting down into his pretty little blue boxer briefs. You’re exhausted, but you want him. You always want him, whether it’s just holding his hand, or much, much more. You’re not going to let your frustrating body get in the way of the pleasure he’s offering you, on top of everything else tonight.

“How about we have those snacks, and then we can… do something other than watch Super Hunters.” Your breath is caught as a surprised, pleased smile lights up his face.

“That can be arranged,” he says softly.

Later, after you’ve had your fill of the fruit and nuts, the crackers spread with tasty toppings, and drained the mug of cold but still soothing tea, he gently urges you onto your back under the soft duvet. You’re cocooned, both warm in the little nest of your bed, as he licks into your mouth, kissing you slowly, seeming to savor the tea lingering on your tongue. You respond, tongue meeting his, enjoying the languid pace of his kisses. Time slows, becomes meaningless, as he leisurely drinks his fill of your mouth.

After a lifetime, or perhaps only a few minutes, he slips from your mouth, and begins pressing gentle kisses down your throat, drifting down, down, pausing at the softness of your breasts, running his hands up and under your sleep tank top until you lift your arms and let him pull it from your body. He lets it fall somewhere over the side of the bed. His tongue is warm and wet as he nuzzles your breasts and gently sucks lower, running his nose along the skin of your belly and resting his cheek there, just for a little while. You sigh softly, luxuriating in the feel of his weight on you, his warm breath against your skin.

After a while, he moves again, down, down, tongue sweeping down your hip, lips pressing slow kisses to the inside of your thigh. You feel his big hands gently grasp your hips, and his agile fingers are pulling down the sides of your underwear. He lifts your ass for you so you don’t have to expend the effort, and then the underwear is tossed just as your tank top was.

He nudges your legs wide and settles his big body between them. Your heart's rhythm speeds, the rest of you responds to his attention. Your fatigue fades into the background as all of your focus narrows to his tongue between your legs, the wet insistence of his lips on the most sensitive parts of you. He makes small appreciative noises in his throat, the same that he makes when enjoying a particularly good meal, and you’re reassured that this at least, he loves doing for you.

The pleasure in your tired body builds, and builds, but he’s in no hurry. His fingers join his tongue, advancing and retreating. Sometimes he pauses, resting his cheek on your thigh as he did on your belly, simply breathing you in, tongue running along his own lips, as if he’s savoring the taste of you. Time passes, and all at once the movement of his tongue, the pressure of his mouth becomes too much, and you come on a quiet gasp, softly—the peak of your pleasure stretches, feels like it lasts beyond what is possible. Finally, you’re catching your breath, sated, drifting back into your body from the timeless orgasm he just gifted you.

Wordlessly, he reaches beyond the duvet to pull your strap from your nightstand. He lifts one of your feet and slips it through one part of the harness, and then repeats the motion with your other foot. He slowly drags it up your legs, goosebumps trailing his fingertips in the chill of the air exposed by the duvet falling down a little as he fixes the strap in place between your thighs and gently tugs on each bit of the harness to ensure that it’s resting securely and comfortably against your skin. 

When he is done, you are filled with a pleasant fullness, and a new heaviness rests between your legs. While he was pleasuring you, he had used one of his hands to soften the way for you, leisurely working your wetness into himself. He rolls onto his side, the little spoon, and scoots back against you. He reaches for the lube in the nightstand, and you laugh softly when the scent of cookies and cream fills the air. 

“What?” he asks, and you can hear the lift of his lips, the smile in his response. “I love cookies and I love sex, why not enjoy both at once?” 

How can you argue with such logic? You’ll never be able to eat cookies again without recalling his warmth, his big body pliant against yours, and you realize that you’re just fine with that.

He reaches behind, between your bodies, and coats the cock of the strap with the lube. He then helps you work it into himself, little by little, until you’re fully seated and pressed warmly against his broad back. He sighs and you feel him reach for his own dick, stroking leisurely. With each slow, rolling undulation of his body rocking back into yours as he seeks his pleasure, your own builds, desire again temporarily eclipsing the exhaustion. You begin to rock your hips, little by little, and he whimpers softly with each thrust. You trail kisses down the back of his strong neck, gasping a little at how good it feels to press into him, for the motion to press the seat of the strap deeper into you, his skin silk under your lips, his whimpering an incentive to go a littler faster, to push a little deeper, just to hear more of it. His muscles ripple and shivers sweep along his skin under your touch. 

Gradually you speed your thrusts, and you feel his hand working faster on his cock by the movement of his muscular arm. He has been here with you before, so he is not afraid or hesitant like the first time. You angle your hips a little, and are satisfied when you hit his prostate, evident from the loud keening that comes out of your normally soft spoken boyfriend. You’re on the edge of coming again, only waiting for the telltale clenching, the moaned “I’m coming” from Xavier. 

When he finally falls over the edge, you go with him, and he lights up like a supernova, back arched, his thick backside grinding into your hips. He’s blinding, magnificent, the light under his skin almost too much for you to look at directly. He is starlight. He is the sun, soaking you through, warming your skin, your exhausted muscles, the blood pumping through your veins, down, down to the marrow of your bones, the tender center of your tired soul.

You squeeze your eyes shut against the blazing form of your lover, and you’re suddenly adrift—space and time are an origami flower folded from the parts of you and him, him and you, drifting like petals on a breath, stardust in the a vast ocean of night. 

You are him, your skin translucent, blazing bright as a star, your body filled with so much pleasure—filled with so much affection, gratitude—and sorrow. Sorrow for the fact that you don’t have the poetic words to convince your lover that the days she’s most exhausted are some of the days he loves the most, just lying with her reading quietly, sheltered in this safe harbor from the cruelties of time and distance. You understand that for her, her exhaustion is a burden, a source of guilt and helpless anger. That she thinks of her own body as flawed, when all you can see is its perfection in every curve, every breath, the regal line of her nose. You would never wish for her to suffer because of the exhaustion racking her body, but you sometimes think that she was made just for you, her fatigue mirroring your own—lying in bed fulfills you as much as exploring a new city, tasting a new favorite meal. You’re so content to be lost right here with her in this familiar but never boring geography of bedsheets, the topography of her body a map you want to read with your hands like braille, to learn, to lose yourself in every day. You hate that you don’t seem to have the words to reassure her that you love all of her, because of, and not despite, all the parts that make the whole of her. 

Time stretches, space contracts. You fall back into yourself. The blinding beacon in your arms slowly fades, Xavier’s warm bulk suddenly solid against you again. He sighs, sated. You can feel his rapid breathing expanding his strong lungs, his broad back against your chest. 

You drift together quietly in the peaceful aftermath of the love you just shared. The relief coursing through you is like slipping into warm water, soothing you in a way that brings tears to your eyes. You trust that the experience you just had wasn’t a lie—you were feeling Xavier’s true feelings as you reached the height of pleasure, together. You don’t believe that he’s capable of lying, of placating, as his soul melted into yours, twin stars bound together.

This is enough for you. An unexpected gift, a reassurance you never dared hope for. But Xavier isn’t done. He begins to speak, without you having to ask.

“Please don’t feel bad, on the days you’re tired. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says softly into the peaceful quiet, only the sounds of your breaths, his breaths filling the room. You don’t have the words to answer him right now, your pleasure-soaked body feeling heavier and heavier as you sink further back into awareness, the fatigue exacting its price for the energy you just expended loving the precious man in your arms. You just hold him a little tighter, nuzzling into his soft blond hair. He seems to receive the message as he slips his hand in yours and squeezes tightly.

After another endless moment, you hear him say almost inaudibly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, star boy,” you manage to whisper into his hair. You drift again, and the memory of your dream floats into your thoughts. You think that you could endure anything, even the end of the world, with this man in your arms.

[darnell-la]

This is probably my first time reading logan x reader smut and discovering you guys for my first has been so much fun!

If I could possibly ask for a request when you guys are free and have time of course!Maybe Dark dom Logan x chubby reader?Reader tries getting logan to date and cheat on her with pretty women cause she's that insecure and so willing to do anything to keep him around cause logan is like the first hottest and kind guy she's ever dated?Of course loagn probably won't be too happy so he reminds her possibly?idk this is silly

note: we did our best to make this a dark Logan story, but not too dark so others can enjoy… we hope you guys enjoy it!

———

“U think he’s actually going to go for it, Jean,” y/n spoke into her phone as tears filled her eyes. She knew Logan didn’t see much in her. She swore he only got with her because she was hard to get.

“Y/n, what did you do? What happening?” Jean asked, but y/n was too busy trying to control her breathing. “Y/n- Hey!?” Jean asked, getting concerned.

“I-I hired someone to flirt with him. I told her to do her best, even touch him, and he’s letting it slide. He’s even pulling her in,” Y/n said as her hands began to shake.

Apart from her regretted this, but it was for the better to know now.

“Y/n — Why would you do that? We talked about this,” Jean said, but y/n didn’t want to hear it. “Why not!? If I don’t know, I’d think he actually liked me, Jean. This needed to happen!”

“I don’t know — I can’t see him doing all of this to you. He loves you,” Jean questioned her powers. She always looked into his mind for y/n, and never did it seem like he would do anything to hurt her.

“I-I can’t do this right. I’ll call you later,” Y/n said before she hung up. She wanted to go over to Logan, maybe even confront him, but how he looked at her, made her sick. He looked at the woman the way he looked at her.

It’s been an hour, and y/n is far gone. She hasn’t answered any of Jean's calls. She told herself that if Logan called, she’d answer, but Logan never did. He always calls her if they haven’t seen each other for a while. She could only imagine the worst.

“Of course, he never liked me,” Y/n told herself as she stumbled out of the bar she had crawled to. She had no idea how she would get back to the mansion, and a part of her didn’t want to go back.

On the other hand, Logan lingered behind her, watching her every move as he grew angry. He knew y/n was obsessed with the idea of him cheating, but not like this.

Logan had seen the messages between y/n and the woman who was set as bait. It angered him, but he didn’t say anything right then. He told y/n if she ever went too deep into her obsession, he’d have to do something about it to make her understand.

He knew letting y/n think he didn’t want her for this long would be a problem, but he also knew she’d get like this. Venerable and emotional.

The man continued to stalk behind y/n, smirking at the fact she went the way he predicted. Right towards his car, so it’ll be a shorter trip.

“H-Hello?” Y/n said as she stopped and turned around towards Logan who she didn’t know what him. He was dressed in all black, and his hoodie covered his face.

“Sir?” Y/n slurred as she slowly walked backward, feeling uneven about this man walking behind her hunched over, and saying nothing back to assure her that she was safe.

“A bit too dark to be out here with your boyfriend, ain’t it?” Logan asked, but y/n couldn’t make out his voice. The liquor had highjacked her brain.

“I-I’m on my way to him r-right now, sir,” y/n lied, which made Logan chuckle. “Oh, ain’t that so?” He asked as he got closer to y/n. As soon as y/n went to turn around and run, she was caught.

“Hey- No! Let me go!” Y/n shouted, and before she could say any more words, he covered her mouth in a rag he had drenched to make her fall out quick and easily.

“You see what happens when you play stupid games?” It was all y/n heard after she struggled to open her eyes for a solid minute. “Huh-“ Y/n cut herself off, noticing something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

“You really think I’d be worried about someone else’s attention, Bub? C’mon, that shits old — My eyes were on you the whole time, rather you saw it or not,”

“Huh- I- What’s going on? Logan?” Y/n asked as her vision came together, but not too much. She was still unbelievably drunk. She knows she can’t handle liquor, but tonight, she didn’t care.

“Drinking was strike one. Drinking without me, was strike two. Walking out of the bar alone and drunk out of your fucking mind, was strike two,” Y/n went to sit up but noticed something holding her back.

“Actually, you know what pissed me off all around? Those messages between you and some sad excuse of a pretty woman you sent after me,”

Y/n’s heart dropped when she came to a realization. Logan knew about her setup, and now she’s restricted. Her hands are tighter behind her back, and both of her feet are chained to both sides of the bed she was on.

“I love you, y/n, but this was unacceptable,” Logan said as he got up from the chair he had been sitting on for a while, waiting for her to wake up. He thought for that whole time, hoping he’d calm down by the time she woke up, but he seemed to get angrier by the second.

“L-Logan, I- I’m so sorry, I just really-“ y/n tried to say, but Logan wasn’t having it. “You just really wanted to what? Make me cheat? Set me up with some fucking whore or the night!? You think I’d stoop down that fucking low, y/n!?”

Y/n felt herself sink into the bed, embarrassed and a bit scared of his reaction. Will he leave her for this? Did she fuck up their relationship?

“I’m sorry-“ y/n tried to say. “Oh, you’re about to be, y/n,” Logan said as he stepped into the brighter side of the light, showing himself completely naked, that was when y/n looked down at herself and sat herself naked.

“L-Logan — What are we doing here? Where are we?” She asked, making him laugh with a smirk she’d never seen before. “Motel — Don’t worry, I got a clean one, with thick walls. Even if they heard you, they wouldn’t dare come in here and help you,”

Y/n was confused about what he meant by helping her. Why would they help her?

“Logan, you’re scaring me,” y/n said, but she wasn’t scared. She just wanted to know more about what he planned for the night. He had already knocked her out. She never expected anything like that from him.

“I’d like to believe that, y/n, but I know for a fact, you’re into this,” y/n took a breath as she watched Logan walk to the side of the bed.

“You always ask me if I love you — If I’d ever trade you out, and I always wanted to keep things sweet, but tonight’s not the night for that,” y/n watched Logan grab a bottle off of the dresser next to the bed.

“I am obsessed — I’m so fucking obsessed with you, y/n, I can barely breathe when you’re not around,” the man said as he squeezed whatever was in the bottle, on his hand.

“I try my best to keep it cool and stay calm, but tonight-” Logan took a long deep breath, contemplating if he should continue. “Tonight, I’m gonna ruin you — I’m gonna break you so hard, you won’t be able to put yourself back together to think about pulling that bullshit ok me again,”

Logan spoke as he rubbed himself in lube, usually, they don’t use lube because he goes slow for her, but tonight, he hadn’t thought about that for a second.

“Logan, I think we should relax-“ Before she could finish, he was on top of her, and in between her legs. “Logan- Wait! Wait, Logan, please let me explain!” Y/n cried out, and because he loved her so much, he stopped right at her entrance.

“I-I’m so sorry, Logan. So so sorry. I-I was just scared. I-I love you so much,” Logan stayed silent for a few more seconds before wrapping a hand around her neck, choking her just right. “And you’re about to see how much I love you,”

Right then, Logan slammed into y/n, stretching her the furthest she’d ever gotten in seconds. “Lo!” Y/n basically screamed as he repeated his thrust, pounding into her cunt as the noises of her filled the room.

“No condom — All raw — I’m gonna fucking breed you tonight,”

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter

wc: 4.3k

a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗

contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict

“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change

Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.

“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.

“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.

Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.

He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.

He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”

He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”

No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.

Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?

Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”

The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.

He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.

His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.

“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.

“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent.  “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.

Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.

This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.

“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.

He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?

“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.

Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.

By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.

Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.

His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.

He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.

He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.

His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?

“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”

Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.

Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.

He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.

“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.

“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”

~~~

Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.

You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.

“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.

You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.” Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.

She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.

Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.

She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.

“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.

A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.

Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.

You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.

Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.

You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.

Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.

How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.

“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.

By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.

a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet

This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔

Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞

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[mustainegf]

Hi! So I was thinking and got an idea.

So, in my mind, this went with Current James but feel free to do whatever era you want:). So basically James has a girlfriend who is somehow always touching him cause she gets anxious when in public with him with all the cameras and stuff. Holding his hand, having her arm wrapped around his, really just always close to him whenever they’re in public and he brings her to a lot of events.

Metallica’s doing an interview and somehow Then interviewer managed to start questioning James about why his girlfriend is constantly next to him, blah blah blah, really just criticizing the fact that his girlfriend is always next to him, and James just gets all defensive and stuff.

This is so cute, I decided to make it black album era James because I feel like this scenario is more in line with him!!

𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ¹⁹⁹²

The spotlight is something you get used to, but it doesn't mean you ever really feel comfortable in it. It's like standing in front of a furnace, hot, blinding, and it makes you sweat in places you didn't know you could sweat. But it's part of the gig, part of being in a band like Metallica. We've all learned to deal with it in our own ways. It's just easier for me when she's with me.

We never talk much about it, but she has this thing with crowds and cameras. But it's not really a fear, she just gets this anxious vibe, like she's on edge. And wherever we are, doing interviews or appearances, she's always with me. Sometimes she has my hand in hers, sometimes she's holding my arm, but she holds on to me.

It's one of those days today. We have nothing really in plan. We are going to be interviewed about the tour and the new album. The guys and I are always overly casual, we wait for the interviewer to prepare stuff. We all sat down for it. It's supposed to be a laid back thing and not that intense. I knew the rolling cameras, blaring lights above us. It's a scene we've been through a million times.

She wasn't with me today, she had some stuff to deal with, and I told her to take the day off. She deserved it, anyway, and it's not like she has to be there for every single thing. But I felt her absence. Funny how you get used to things and then, when they're not there, you really start to notice.

The interviewer finally began, and it was all pretty standard at first: talking about the music, the shows, the fans, all the regular shit. But then, out of nowhere, the guy throws this curveball question at me: "James, we've seen that your girlfriend is with you all the time at these events. What's up with that? Is she, like, super clingy, or somethin'?"

There was a pause in which the room went kind of quiet. The guys waited to see what my reaction would be. I kind of laughed it off, you know, those annoying interviewers, they like to yank your chain a little bit. The guy wouldn't let it go, though. He pressed on with stuff like, "It's just, she always just seems to be hanging on you. Doesn't that get a little annoying?"

I'm not that great with words, never have been. I'm more of a 'let the music do the talking' kind of person, so something in the way he said it, like he was trying to make her out to be needy or something, really grinded on my nerves.

"'Annoying? That's a pretty shitty take, dude,'" I said, leaning back just a bit.

He blinked, maybe not really expecting me to fire back. "I just mean, she's always there. Doesn't she trust you? Or is it the alcohol?"

That was it. My clenched jaw told me I had to breathe deep. "She's not a fan of all this crap, not at all," I gestured around, at the cameras, the lights, the whole circus. "But she still shows up and yeah, maybe she gets a little bit anxious, but who the hell wouldn't with all this goin' on?"

I could tell the guy wasn't backing down, though. He leaned in, like he smelled blood in the water. "Does it get exhausting? Having someone so dependent?"

"Dependent?" I snorted, shaking my head. "Dude, she's strong as hell. She's got her own life, her own shit to deal with. She's not hanging on to me because she needs me to survive or some crap like that. She's there because she wants to be. And if holding my hand makes her feel better, then hell yeah, I'm all for it. It's called being a fuckin' partner, somethin' you don't seem to know much about."

I knew I had to cool it, but the further he pushed, the more I wanted. The room went silent for a moment, and I could feel the thick air. The interviewer gave me a shaky smile, not so sure anymore that he knew where this was heading, as if that's the only apology he could dish..

I leaned back, crossing my arms, some of the heat in my chest starting to cool. "Big deal. If that's the most interesting thing you've got to ask about, maybe you should find a new line of work 'cause clearly, you're missin' the point."

I'd just drawn a line in the sand and dared anyone to cross it.

[m-jelly]

Hii Jelly, remember the levi x reader oneshot you did long ago the "You are my true love" from the cannon materlist Part one. Where Levi use to be in a relationship with Petra but dates the reader so he can try to forget about Petra. But Levi can't forget abt her and Levi calls reader Petra like twice, and reader leaves him bc they are so heartbroken. And after 2 months Levi comes back to reader and apologizes and tries to win reader back. At the end they end up together.

My request is can you do a spinoff = of what was Levi like those 2 months when reader left him and a part two = of what their dating life is like when they get back together and them working together at the flower shop together. And happy ending pls :D

Have a great day Jelly! xoxo

You are my true love - more.

Levi x fem!reader

Canon world, fluff, angst, being a couple, before a couple.

A section about the 2 months without you and right after how life together is as a couple.

Original

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn

@bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza

@hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

2 Months.

Can't sleep. Can't eat. Can't smile. Can't laugh. Can't function. Being without you was pure hell, but Levi knew he had to suffer because he sinned so strongly against you. It was time for reflection on his actions.

When he thought about his reflection period, he thought the first few weeks would be the hardest, but he was wrong. The longer he went without you, the more painful it got. This was different from Petra, this was far more painful to him. It was becoming clear that he liked Petra, but he loved you.

Everyone around him noticed he was a shell of his former self. The loss of you was the most damaging thing he'd experienced recently. For Levi, death was easy to understand, but someone walking out of his life was hard for him to process. Kenny had left him with not a single word, which was fine after processing but you told him you were leaving. You were the only person who told him, you were done.

It was hard to go to his bed at night because it smelt of you, even his clothes smelt of you. So, Levi had to sleep at his desk or on his sofa because they were the only places that didn't have a strong smell of you. A suggestion given to him was to get rid of the things of yours he still possessed, he just refused because he adored you so much and wanted to keep it all.

When he wasn't working, he would spend most of his time curled up into a ball holding a shirt of yours wishing you would walk back into his life again. All thoughts of Petra had vanished and he was consumed by the idea of you. His heart cried and yearned for you.

Soon it was becoming too much for him to bear, so he decided to see you just for a moment. After dragging on some simple clothes he hid himself a little and went out into the town. He followed Erwin's directions but ignored his advice to leave you alone.

The shop you worked in was adorable and seeing you putting some flowers out made his heart flutter. No matter how much he debated with himself he couldn't bring himself to talk to you. Levi felt like he was too much of a beast to go near you.

Levi would watch you a few times and admire you from afar as he faced his feelings, it was clear that his heart belonged to you and always had. He knew he had to make his peace with Petra. So, he made his way to the graveyard with all the lost Scouts.

He wasn't at her grave for long. The feelings he once had for her were gone. He lightly touched her grave, said his goodbyes and knew that his future was you. No matter how hard Levi thought about it, there never was a future with Petra. Thinking about it all, it seemed Petra was using him for love and physical affection and Levi was just going along with it so he could feel.

The real deep love in his heart was yours. You were his first in love.

Life together.

After becoming a couple, Levi was almost always at your shop and asked to do fewer things for the scouts so he could be dedicated to you. Eventually, you turned the shop into a flower and tea shop, so you could sell tea leaves that Levi had mixed. Everyone wanted to try the famous captain's tea.

Levi slept over at yours and never slept back at the base. The two of you would cuddle a lot and after trust had built up, you would be intimate again. The way Levi was with you in the bedroom had changed a bit, he was very invested in you and he was incredibly loving. He would make love to you like you would leave him any second. It was always full of laughs and giggles.

He was so dedicated and loving with you. He always stayed at your side and you gave him everything again. The two of you would shower each other with gifts. The romance was almost overboard and the way you both were shocked people. Especially, with how Levi was with you and how unlike him he was being, it was refreshing to people.

The two of you ran your shop together, but you did most of the work because Levi's full job was being Captain of the Scouts. You didn't mind that he wasn't around all the time, but he minded and wanted to be with you every minute of every day.

One day while you were hooking a flower basket on a hanging hook outside your shop, Levi was rushing towards you. He had finished work early and he wanted to be with you. As soon as you were climbing down your ladders he grabbed you and picked you up off them making you squeal.

You were panicked, but in a short moment, Levi moved you in his arms so you could see him. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You scared me."

"Sorry, I just got so excited when I saw you." He kissed you and hummed. "I missed you."

You felt your cheeks heat up. "I missed you too."

"Are you okay?"

You laughed a little. "You just surprised me. You don't normally show affection in public."

He squeezed you. "I hid you for a long time. I don't want to ever again hide you away. I want people to know you are mine."

You slipped out of his arms. "You're adorable Levi." You kissed him before grabbing another hanging basket. "Could you put this up for me?"

He grabbed it and smiled. "Of course. I'll help do anything."

The two of you worked together to decorate the front of the shop before closing up for the way and moving to the apartment. Levi worked with you to make a delicious meal for dinner. He always set up the table for you and made sure his chair was next to yours.

While you sat eating Levi would hold your hand with his thumb gently running over your skin. Levi always ate faster than you, so when he was finished he would just gaze at you and kiss your hand. The more affection he showed you the more you giggled and smiled.

You downed your drink and hummed. "That was wonderful."

Levi leaned over and kissed you. "Your cooking is perfect."

You smiled at him. "I couldn't have done it without you. Do you want a cookie for dessert?"

He pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you. "I would like you as my dessert."

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Oh, I would be happy to be your dessert."

Levi kissed you and hummed in happiness. He softly said your name. "After this all ends with the war, I want to expand our shop into a cafe and um...I...I want to...uh..."

You frowned. "I'd love a cafe, but what else is up?"

He fiddled with his pocket before pulling out a ring. "I want to marry you."

Your eyes widened. "Yes." You offered your hand. "Yes, I do." You smiled as he slipped your ring on. "It's perfect."

Levi kissed you and hummed in happiness. "My darling brat. Mine."

[multific]

Who Are You

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

Summary: Humans are born with milky white blood. The more crimes they commit the darker their blood gets. One day, you meet your soulmate, and everything is amazing. A couple of years later, during dinner, he cuts himself only to expose black blood.

A/N: This idea is NOT mine! I just found it while browsing, credit goes to the owner.

Everyone was pure at one point. And as they went on with their lives, and did bad things, their blood got darker and darker. 

It was extremely rare for people to have pure white skin at an old age.

Many people hid their blood, avoiding cutting or hurting themselves at all costs.

There were many criminals who were discovered thanks to a simple papercut. 

Many tried to find a reason as to why this was happening. Many tried to cheat it and even the after the worst acts, they tried to reverse the darkening of their blood.

But it wasn't possible.

And scientists had no idea why this was happening. 

But you went on with your life as normal. Met many new people amongst them Will Graham, who quickly became like a brother to you. And through him, you met Hannibal Lecter.

You swear that day, when you picked up Will changed your life and you met your soulmate. 

Hannibal and you quickly found each other. And your love bloom. 

Soon, you were married to him without a question and you have even forgotten about the whole blood thing.

When Will began to spread all those lies about Hannibal, you were honestly concerned for your friend.

"One day, you will see." is all Will said when you last visited him. 

You threw your bag to the side as you let out a huff, arriving home, you found Hannibal in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled way too good.

"How was the visit?" he asked without turning to see you.

"The usual." you said with a sigh.

"Let's just eat ad forget about it." he said as you walked over to him, hugging him from behind.

He suddenly let out a hiss.

You immediately let go and as you saw the blood you grabbed his arm and guided him to the sink, letting water onto his cut.

"I'm sorry," you said as you rushed to find the medkit.

When you arrived back, Hannibal was staring at you with a blank expression.

"What? Is it really bad? I told you your knives are too sharp." you looked down and opened the box.

"Y/N," the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, not the good kind, you never heard anything like this before. You looked up and your eyes met him, he looked like a predator, a lion ready to jump, he didn't look like the man you married. 

He scared you.

You opened your mouth to say something but then your eyes trailed to the cutting board which was covered in blood, blood so dark you could see reflection in them.

You felt the shiver once more, a shiver starting on top of your head that went all the way down your spine and ended in your feet.

Will was right.

But something in your mind clicked.

You fell in love with him as he was. There were many many signs which you chose to ignore, so who were you to get scared now?

You let out a sigh.

"You might need stitches. Looks like a lot of blood so the cut must be deep but you are the doctor, not me." you handed him the box. "I'll get the... chicken... out of the oven." you moved to the board and then to the sink to wash it. 

Then five minutes later you found yourself in the dining room, eating in silence and now, not even music was playing. Complete silence. Only the sound of the utensils against the plate.

"Is it... really beef?" you asked as Hannibal looked at you with a smirk. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. "Was it ever?" you asked but you didn't need an answer. "Well, they do say you are what you eat..."

You knew that now that you knew who he was, he will keep an extremely close eye on you. If he didn't already. "I'm okay with it, by the way. Just wanted you to hear it. I still love you and you are my husband, this doesn't change a thing."

"You shouldn't visit Will anymore."

"I shouldn't, he might pressure me to go to Jack." you nodded. "I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't." he said, "I believe you knew long before Will did. You just ignored the signs." you nodded in agreement as his hand found yours. "I would never hurt you, I do love you." he said with a reassuring voice and you did believe him.

"I love you too." you said with a smile before you dug into your food. "Does this make my blood darken too?" you wondered and for a moment Hannibal also stopped.

"I'm cutting you to see." he said. 

"It's not what I meant by any means, I was simply wondering." you let out a sigh.

"I was only joking." he said with a smile. A smile so wicked, so dangerous, yet you absolutely loved it. 

You kept your promise and never went to see Will again.

He would know instantly and you loved Hannibal too much to go to Jack.

But late at night, while he was out, you decided to head into your office and picked up a pin.

Pushing it into your skin, you stood in the window, letting the moonlight reveal your secret.

And now, even your blood was pure black. 

You could only stare at it as you stood in complete silence.

You should be terrified. 

You should run.

But it was all over now.

It is who you were.

Hannibal's wife and now, his partner in crime with your black blood matching his.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[d0youc0py]

Hi 👋🏻 May I request a piece for Simon reacting to reader's scars which are pretty bad ? (could be from abuse,or from torture from being captured or self inflicted) scars he never saw before cause reader always hit them, and maybe Simon opens up about his as well as a way to comfort them?

Sorry if you are not comfortable with this... Have a great day!

“Ow…ow….ow…ow.”

“Toughen up.” Ghost growled.

“My arm doesn’t bend that way Lieu.” You yelped.

“That’s the point.” He snipped. “Showin’ you how to break someone’s arm.” For emphasis he bent your arm back a little more a loud pop ringing through the training room. It didn’t hurt but you instinctively said ‘ow’ causing another annoyed sigh to leave the bulky man. “Now you try on me.” He demanded flopping down on his stomach. You went to grab his arm and he quickly snatched it away. You tried again. He pulled away from you.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t think I was gonna make it easy, did ya?”

“I had my hopes up.” You groaned out. You tried again- this time putting in twice the effort. He grabbed you by the front of your shirt and flipped you down on the mat. The little action causing your shirt to ride up- revealing the one thing you tried your hardest to hide. You had scars almost everywhere, but the really nasty ones were on your stomach. His balaclava did nothing to hide his widened eyes. You pulled away and he quickly let go. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“For what?” Ghost asked quickly.

“You had to see those.” Your cheeks were bright red. You had a feeling this was something that was going to make you cry whenever you woke up at two in the morning and thought about.

“I didn’t see anything.” He lied. He could tell you were uncomfortable and didn’t want to add on to it.

He thought less of you. You just knew it. He didn’t even need to know how you got them- he thought you were weak.

“I didn’t take you for the lying type Lieu.” You mumbled. You scooted your knees close to your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighed. He sat down across from you, stretching his legs out so you were between them. He knows he doesn’t show it well but he’s always had a soft spot for you. He couldn’t help it. Something about you made him feel nice. Seeing your scars were just icing on the cake. He could relate to wanting to cover up the ‘bad’ bits of yourself. Although to him your only bad bits were your constant complaining during sparring- and during missions- and when it’s hot out- and when it’s too cold- and when you’re hungry- and when you didn’t sleep good- and- well you get the idea. All of this led up to what he was about to do now.

He took a deep breath causing you to look up at him. He gripped the edges of his balaclava slowly pulling it away from his face.

Of course he was gorgeous.

He wasn’t perfect.

But my god is he gorgeous.

You suddenly realized why he had done it. A deep scar starting at his cheekbone going all the way down to his jaw. Another one going over his eye. You had noticed one of his eyes seemed to open more than the other, but you didn’t see the scar till now. You reached your hand out and he didn’t pull away. Your pointer finger traced gently over his cheek. You waited for him to smack your hand away, but instead he closed his eyes letting you take your time.

You wondered how many people had the honor of doing this. The way his face heated up made you think very few- if any. Once you were done you rested your hand back in your lap. He opened his eyes.

“You saw my scars?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” He questioned. Cocky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t say no.

“If this is your way of asking me if I like you Lieu, you’re going about it all wrong.”

He laughed. A rare, but genuinely lovely sound to hear.

“No, I don’t think you’re ugly.” You affirmed. He nodded his head, almost like he was agreeing with you.

“Scars don’t make you ugly, kid. A shit personality does.”

“Are you saying I have a bad personality?” You gasped.

“Fucking Hell, we’re gonna be here all night.” Simon groaned, wiping a hand across his forehead. “I think you know what I mean.” He pressed. You smiled at him.

“You’re not the only one who digs for complements Lieu.” You snickered. He smiled and you had to stop yourself from poking the dimple in his right cheek.

“Lieu?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Thank you for your request! I decide to leave the story behind the scars out to make it more applicable. Hope that’s okay!

[prinzrupprecht]

Oblivious!Okita Souji x reader HCs

I got this idea from the chibi chiruran anime. He is the most popular amongst the girls surprisedly but doesn’t bat an eye for any of them and just feeds the cats instead LOL

I poured way too much into this… next I’ll post an Anubis one shot.

CW: hurt/comfort and fluff

No matter how hard you tried to give him gifts yourself, some other girl outside of the residence would ask Saitou to give Souji their gifts instead.

You were certain you would never get his attention if none of those other girls can’t get his. You wish you were a cat instead. They get his attention more than any of you.

You would avoid him to get over your silly crush. Was it because he was the strongest? Or just that he was caring and kind? You were certain it was both, you liked his strong protective side and also he was a caring person.

One day you had asked Hijikata to help you train a bit with a wooden sword, this shocked Souji since he was just outside of the room on the porch petting one of the cats hearing you ask the worst swordsman to train you?

Okita started to mock his swordsman skills as one of the weakest and slowest in the group. Nagakura jumped in and started to make fun of you for asking Hijikata and not him which started a huge fight between the three of them. Souji didn’t like how Nagakura wanted to train you as well. “You still can’t land a hit on me,” Souji snickered at Nagakura but this caused Hijikata to try to sneakily hit Souji from behind, but of course, he dodged and punched Hijikata back knocking him out.

“I… didn’t mean for any of this,” you were shocked by their fight and not sure if they were going to apologize and make up later. You wanted to just leave and not ask any of them again. “Agh, you morons.” Yamanami walked into the room seeing Hijikata on the floor passed out and Nagakura irritated. Souji was nonchalant like usual with his calm expression that was hard to read.

Other times Souji wouldn’t understand some of your jokes, questions or advances about women. This made you wonder if he was even into girls or just uninterested at all.

Once when you were presented with everyone else, Nakagura asked if you liked anyone in the group and made a joke it was probably him. Your face turned red and Yamanami told Nagakura to cease personal questions like that. Unfortunately, even Saitou wondered the same along with Hijikata who rejects your “confession” even though you never said who. You freaked out and said no one and that you’re perfectly fine ending up alone. Lies… of course, the one person you liked was just oblivious to your feelings. The other members stopped picking on you after you denied liking anyone.

Of course, Souji was sitting on the porch ignoring everyone teasing you. You were already accepting the outcome of him never liking you. You sighed and went back to your private room.

After you had left, Souji got mad at them, but most of all, he hated your response deep down on wanting to end up alone. This surprised majority of the shinsengumi members seeing how pissed Souji looked with his murderous glare.

Yamanami was the observer of the group and knew Souji had always hidden his feelings for you or mostly pushed his feelings aside. Yamanami even saw him throw away the love letters from the girls who were always outside the residence fangirling over him or Saitou. Whenever they gave him bento boxes, Souji was always seen giving them to Harada since he was the big eater of the group.

Yamanami had pulled him aside alone to ‘talk’ to him but mostly to get whatever his deal was about. It was obvious that you liked him and he did as well, but you both were too scared to say anything. Souji didn’t respond to Yamanami about the situation that occurred and went to find you.

While sitting alone in your room pondering everything and the embarrassment that the other members put you in. You were certain you were going to end up alone as you said. You didn’t even hear your door open since your back was turned as you lied on your side drawing circles on the wooden floor with your index finger. “Oh, were you going to sleep?” Souji’s voice broke you out of your trance. You muttered a no and said you’re better off being alone right now. It’s unusual for you to want to be alone, especially from him. You already accepted the worst case and prefer to separate yourself from everyone for a while.

“Mind if I stay— I mean, if you’re okay with that. I don’t like how noisy they are.” You wanted to scoff since he mostly slept in Kondo’s room. Seriously?

“Sure, fine. Now what’s the real reason you’re here?” You turned your head to see him standing by the door before sitting next to you. He looked… nervous?

“What did you mean when you said that you’re fine ending up alone?” Souji brought his knees up to his chest. He wasn’t making eye contact with you as he chose to look forward instead. You were confused about where this was coming from. You couldn’t think of anything to respond with.

“I just… wanted them to drop the topic so it came out of nowhere. I’m sorry for all of that…” You suckered in your breath as you closed your eyes.

“I like you and—” Souji said out loud but you didn’t let him finish as you pulled him close to you pressing your lips on his letting both your minds register the moment before pulling away. He wasn’t even shocked nor pushed you away. He was happy as well for accepting his feelings.

“You’re oblivious sometimes, you know that?” You said as you melted in his arms and embrace.