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athenamikaelson · 1 year

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Complaints and Harriet Styles

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary- The reader likes to complain a lot, everyone in Mystic Falls knows this. Klaus Mikealson finds it quite entertaining though.

Word Count- 2.2k

Warnings- Swearing, biting, one innuendo from Santa Klaus

Note from Author- Might do a part 2 to this is ya'll want it, let me know.

“Listen, Damon. This whole, “I’m the scary brother” act you got going on it’s such a cliche man. Why not try something different, switch it up. It has got to be hella boring to have been playing the same role for over like 1,000 years, or however old you are. I wasn’t listening when Stefan was telling me the story of you two.” I try explaining to Damon as he stares blankly at me while holding a bourbon in his hand.

“Y/N, who let you into my house?” Damon asks me as he throws back the rest of his drink and then starts to pour himself another one. I just shrug my shoulders.

“You left the door unlocked and I thought, why not? Elena and Bonnie are off somewhere and Caroline is planning some dance for Ms. Lockwood. So I had no one else to talk to.”

“You mean to complain to?” He asks with a roll of his eyes. Which in turn makes me roll my eyes.

“I don’t complain a lot.” I defend myself, which only gets me an annoyed look.

_____

“This is too heavy!” I yell to Caroline as she hands me a box of party supplies that she roped me into to decorate her house with for some stupid party. I look into the box and pick out a long hot pink boa scarf.

“The hell is this for?” Caroline looks at me holding the scarf and rolls her eyes.

“To wear obviously. And stop complaining, that box is like less than five pounds.” She tells me as she takes a balloon from his pile of decorations and starts to blow it up.

“Ok 1. You’d have to hold me down and knock me out if you ever wanted to put that thing on me. And 2. I’m not complaining, you just have inhuman strength so you can’t tell when something is heavy to frail humans like myself.” Caroline just rolls her eyes at me placing the balloon back onto the table by her. She walks over to me and grabs the box from my hands, “You complain too much.”

______

“Ok, listen up, fellow soon to be seniors! If I get superglue stuck on my fingers one more time I’m throwing in the towel and going on home, it’s past my bedtime anyways.” I say walking into the classroom that holds Elena, Caroline, Matt, Tyler and Bonnie. They all turn to me, I hear a giggle come from Elena as she looks at the clock on the wall.

“Y/N, it’s only 8 p.m.” I look at her in confusion then glance at my watch, “Oh.”

Tyler walks over to me and grabs the super glue from my hand.

“If you have such a hard time with the super glue then Caroline and I will go and do it.” He glances at Caroline who just shakes her head and laughs, “And you say you don't complain a lot.” She says to me as she passes me and squeezes my shoulder.

“I do not complain a lot!” I yell to her as she walks out of the classroom. Elena walks up behind me and wraps her hand around my shoulder.

“Come on, you can help me superglue Ric’s desk, but don’t worry I’ll handle the superglue.” She giggles to herself as she leads me out of the classroom and into the hallway. I’m about to start talking about how hot the hallway is but Elena halts us as a man walks in front of us.

“Yo dude! Didn’t you see us walking here? Move!,” I look at him as he slowly takes his eyes off of Elena and onto me. He stares silently at me, a crease in between his eyebrows as if he’s debating something in his mind. The hallway is dark so I can’t quite see his features as well as I would, but the features I do see are very nice to look at.

“Dude you deaf or something? Usually when someone tells you to move you’re supposed to move,” I frown to myself and then turn to Elena, “Wait, was that offensive?” Elena just looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. A look of fear in her eyes. I look back at the man in front of us.

“Sorry if that offended you man. Sometimes I just say things, but also like to move out of my way now please, thank you.” I go to walk around him bringing Elena with me but I feel the man grab me by the elbow pulling me into the opposite direction.

“Hey! What the actual fuck man!,” I see that he also has Elena by the elbow as he says something to her, but I’m too busy trying to break myself free from his grip.

“Dude literally let me go, also your cologne literally smells like the pre teen-boy section of an Aeropostle.” We halt. I see the man turn towards me with a dark look in his eyes.

“What did you just say to me?” Oh. He’s british. God that’s hot.

“Um, the let go of me part or the shitty perfume thing?” I watch as he looks at me also like I’ve grown a second head. I really need to find a mirror because I’m starting to wonder if I actually have.

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” He asks me with a hard tone.

I tap my chin with my finger in a thoughtful manner and shrug one shoulder, “The sixth member of one direction?” I look up to him with a sarcastic smile and then laugh at the incredulous look on his face, a very nice looking face.

He begins to open his mouth to speak before he shuts it and shakes his head in frustration. And starts dragging Elena and I again.

“Dude-,” “If you open that mouth of yours one more time the next thing to come out of it will be your tongue.” Mr. British cuts me off without giving me a glance. Ok then.

_______

Ok, so Mr. British guy’s name is actually named Klaus. The same Klaus who killed Elena, or he thought he killed her then she came back to life or something. I keep on getting bored with all these stories people keep talking about. Klaus is here though I think to not kill Elena again, or to kill Elena? Once again no clue. But he made me sit on the bleachers and just watch as he snapped Tyler’s neck and told Bonnie to contact some witch or something. There was also a pretty blonde girl, but she left with Tyler’s body and Caroline. I sit on the bleacher for another moment then stand up, screw you British guy.

I step off the bleacher and walk over to Elena who is shaking in fear. I pull her into a hug since I think she might need one. I feel a hand pull me away from her after a moment though and come face to face with the brit.

“Oh, great. It’s you.” I say sarcastically.

“Did you not hear me when I told you to stay seated on the bleacher?” He asks me angrily. His hand was tightening on my shoulder.

“Obviously I heard you man. You like to talk loudly and a fucking lot. You must love to hear your own voice huh? And besides, my ass started to hurt. And also, who died and made you the boss! Just because you’re all strong and have a hot accent doesn’t mean you can just go bossing people around, asshat.”

“Y/N! Stop!” Elena yells to me desperately. I just turn to her and shrug my shoulders, then look back to wannabe Harry Styles. Harriet is looking at me with a dark look, but the grip on my shoulder has lessened.

“Have you always had no self-preservation skills? Or are you just stupid?” He asks me.

I stare at him in disbelief, “You know what dickwad? Just because I don’t want to deal with whatever mid-life crisis you’re currently having doesn’t mean I’m stupid. To actually let you know I have straight A’s,” I stop my rant and then roll my eyes, “Ok, mostly straight A’s, I have one D in art but that’s because my art teacher is like you,” I point to him, “A jackass, and he thinks that only his tastes and thoughts are correct. So it actually isn’t my fault. I personally think my art is much better than his.” I look back up to Klaus and he’s looking at me with an almost contemplative look.

“Has anyone ever told you, you stare a lot?” I ask him with a sarcastic tone.

“Has anyone ever told you, you complain a lot?” He says with the same tone of voice that I used. The corner of his lip starts to move as if he wanted to smirk.

I look up in thought at his question and tap my chin, “You know what, I actually have heard that before. I personally don’t think of it as complaining though. More of, sharing my annoyance with the world.”

The smirk on his lips is very present now and for a second I could’ve sworn it started to turn into a smile.

“To answer your question, I only tend to stare at people who gain my attention.” He tells me, making me stare at him for a second too long.

Ya. Ok. Whatever that means. I go to give him a snarky remark but Stefan runs in looking more brutish than usual.

“Oh look! Stefan’s back!” I say, smiling at him. Which doesn’t even get me a glance in my direction as he keeps his eyes on Klaus who I now notice is standing a little too close to me. Weirdo.

Stefan goes on to say something about something but once again I don’t quite care to listen. So I go and lean against the wall until Blondey from earlier comes in and bites Elena for some reason. I quickly lean up and start walking over to her.

“Hey bitch! Hasn’t anyone ever told you to keep your hands to yourself!” The blonde, who as she looks at me I now notice is very attractive. I have to stop my ogling though because after Klaus rips her from Elena she starts to storm her way over to me. Before she can get to me though my vision is blocked off by Klaus’ back.

“Not her.” He tells blondey rather sternly.

“Whatever.” She says as she storms off out of the gym. Klaus turns back to me and looks at me, eyes moving over my face oddly.

“You need to go home.” He tells me then turns around dismissively. I walk in front of him, stopping him from confronting Stefan.

“You are not the boss of me, and besides why the hell would I ever leave Elena, who is my friend, alone with vampires?” I yell at him, which makes him just roll his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m not going to ask you again, you need to go home.” He tells me.

“Bitch what? You didn’t even ask me shit! You demanded me.” I want to start ripping him a new one but Elena places her hand on my shoulder

“Y/N, I’m going to be ok. Please go home, I need to know at least you’re going to be ok.” She says to me with a dreary smile. I go to argue but she interrupts me again begging me to leave quickly. What the heck is up with people interrupting me.

“Fine,” I turn to Klaus, “But, if anything happens to her, I’m going to rip your dick off.” That makes him give a slight flinch. I give one more look to Elena and Stefan, who gives me a small nod and then head to the door.

When I grab the handle of the door I hear Klaus call my name from behind me, I turn around and jump when I find Klaus standing right behind me.

“Jesus man, warn a woman.”

“Next time we see each other Y/N, I’d like to see that artwork of yours that you believe deserved better than a D.” Klaus says as he looks down to me. I go to speak but nothing seems to want to come out. Klaus must’ve noticed this because a smirk forms onto his face.

“Is this the first time you’ve ever not had a response?” He has the audacity to gain a bigger smirk, “What a shame, I was growing fond of that mouth of yours.”

“Um, ya. Um,” I start to feel my face heat up under his gaze, “I’m leaving now, oddball.” I say as I book it out of the gym. As i make it to the end of the hall I glance over my shoulder and make eye contact with Klaus who’s still standing in the same spot with the same stupid smirk on his face.

“I’ll make sure to wear different cologne next time we meet Y/N.” Klaus says as he walks back into the gym leaving me alone.

“What the actual fuck?”

PART 2- HERE

#author #athenamikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson #thecwshows #thevampirediaries #the vampire diaries #the originals #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #stefan x elena #elena gilbert #the vampire diares imagine #x reader #rebekah mikaelson

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callme-holly · 6 months

Note

hey! i love your johnny cade fics <3 if you’re still taking requests and you like the idea could you write one where reader is part of the group but is sneaking around with johnny, keeping their new relationship from the gang, but there’s really cute secret smiles/touches/hand holding 🥹 and then maybe one of them is just like, you two really are not subtle, we know about it (i feel like this would be dally😅) thank you 🫶🏼 ps sorry if too specific

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐍𝐨 𝐎𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry for how long this took me to write I had a huge drama exam and things were crazy but I'm back now!! This was super fun to write so I hope ya'll enjoy this and, as always, my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2.5k words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing !!

0.1 - ‘hey, was that Johnny?’

It’s early evening by the time the gang reach The Nightly Double, with the sun sinking low over the horizon and casting long shadows onto the sidewalk. It’s the first time in a while they've all been able to do something together, something outside of work, or school, or fighting, and most are glad for it. So glad in fact that they hardly noticed they’re two members short.

—

“You want me to get you somethin’?” Johnny mumbles, squeezing your hand gently as you both wander past the concession stand, searching for some seats tucked a little further back and away from prying eyes.

You hum and glance over to the stand. The line for snacks and drinks isn’t too long; there are only a few people waiting ahead, but you have no doubt that it will be much longer a little later on when the cars of socs start to roll in.

“Sure, if you don’t mind…” You murmur, turning your attention back to Johnny as he leads you through the small crowd of people, pausing once you both reach the end of the queue. He shoots you a soft, crooked grin before dropping his head a little to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“What’d you want?” He asks after he pulls back, and you can’t help but smile warmly, leaning a little into his side as you get closer to the counter.

“Just a pepsi will do me.” You reply lightly, and he gives a short nod, reaching into his pocket to scrape together enough cash for the drink.

Noticing this, you frown just a bit, and grab at his forearm to try and stop him.

“Johnny, I didn't think you meant you'd pay–”

He turns those beautiful, dark eyes back to yours and shakes his head, giving a small shrug. “It's no big deal.”

“But–”

“No, really,” He insists quietly as you both reach the counter. “I’ve got it.”

There’s really no arguing with him, and so, with one last lingering look, you release his arm and watch with a sigh as he orders your drinks and slides the change across the counter. You purse your lips for a moment, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do that. I’ve got the money, you know.”

Johnny only hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’s fine. I wanted to.”

He hands you your pepsi, taking your hand in his as you both turn, about to return to your hunt for seats once more, when you notice an all-too-familiar group of greasers standing in line.

You frown briefly before glancing up at Johnny, who follows your gaze, his eyes widening.

“Shit…” He’s quick to drop your hand, turning so that his back is to the gang. You follow suit, tucking yourself into Johnny’s side as you both try to blend in with the passing wave of teens around you.

The two of you keep your heads down, keeping your pace as even as possible as you move past the group of boys, their laughter ringing out as they make small jabs at each other. They seem so caught up in whatever is going on around them that you and Johnny manage to slip away without being noticed. Or, at least, you think you do.

—

“Hey, Ponyboy, what the hell are you lookin’ at?”

Two-bit slams a hand down on the boy’s shoulder, effectively drawing his attention away from the passing crowd and back to the rowdiness of the gang. By now, they have all stopped with their teasing, their eyes not-so-subtly scanning the swarms of people around them.

Pony shakes his head, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the ground and shrugging. “Ain’t nothin’... Just thought I saw Johnny.”

Dallas snorts. “Johnny?” He laughs a little incredulously. “The kid swore he ain't comin' out tonight. Said he was busy, man.”

“Well, maybe he lied.”

Steve raises a brow. “Why would he lie? If he wanted to catch a movie, he would've tagged along with us.”

Pony’s face twists, and he glances back once more before shaking his head. “Nah, you're right. Guess I'm just seeing stuff, huh?”

Darry places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “It’s all that smoke gettin' to your head.” He teases, and the boy rolls his eyes, shrugging off his brother.

“Whatever.”

0.2 - ‘you guys are here alone?’

The diner is packed full; groups of teens are huddled around tables and scattered throughout various booths, most either talking amongst themselves or causing nothing but trouble.

You and Johnny are tucked away in a booth you had claimed at the very back, the two of you hunched over the tabletop, a plate of fries and two milkshakes sitting between you. Your hands are entwined, and Johnny’s thumb is stroking absently over your knuckles as he watches you talk. His dark eyes shine with nothing but affection, and he can't help but lean in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

You pause, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you meet his eyes again.

“What was that for?”

Johnny shrugs, growing sheepish, as he takes a sip of his milkshake.

“Just because.” He mumbles softly, looking away again; however, as he does so, he catches sight of something, or rather someone, out the window. “Uh oh…”

You turn to follow his gaze and sigh inwardly as you see Soda and Steve coming through the doors to the diner, both boys sporting their DX uniforms as they scan the crowds for an empty table. You and Johnny sink low in your seats, doing your best to hide behind your discarded menus, but it's too late.

“Johnnycake! Y/n!” Soda calls out with a grin and a wave, sauntering up to you and Johnny’s booth, Steve hot on his heels. They both sit themselves down, Steve stealing a couple of fries and shovelling them into his mouth as he does so, before shooting you a bright grin.

“Fancy seeing ya’ll here, huh?” He comments, reaching out to take a sip from your milkshake too, scowling as you slap his hand away.

“Get your own shake.” You snap irritably, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t you like the company we bring?” Soda grins good-naturedly, and Johnny meets your gaze across the table, offering a small apologetic smile.

You let out a long breath, feeling annoyance and a little exasperation course through your veins, but you knew better than to send the two greasers on their way. It will only raise suspicion, and that’s the last thing you need right now. You and Johnny are keeping your relationship a secret for a reason, and knowing Steve and his big mouth, you can bet half the town would know by morning.

You’re broken from your thoughts when Soda leans forward, resting one elbow atop the table, propping up his chin with his free hand.

“Say, where's Dallas? Ain't he with you?”

Johnny shakes his head. “Nah, he’s still sleepin’ off a hangover.”

Soda blinks and then frowns. He tilts his head. “Two-bit?”

“He ain’t here either.” Johnny replies simply, glancing at you again just as Steve pipes up.

“So, what, you’re both here alone?”

The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself flushing a little beneath their scrutiny.

What are they getting at?

“Well, yeah.”

Soda and Steve stare at you for a moment, their gazes moving towards Johnny before returning to you once more. They share a knowing glance, and for one fleeting moment, you're afraid they've caught on—that they've finally put two and two together and realised exactly what has been going on between you and Johnny. But then, after another brief moment passes, both boys just shrug, and Steve goes to take another handful of fries, the conversation seemingly forgotten.

You meet Johnny's gaze from across the table once more, offering him a small smile as you both reach for your milkshakes, your fingers brushing lightly.

Looks like you'll have to wait a little longer for some time alone.

0.3 - unwanted company… again

You and Johnny wander aimlessly, your arms linked loosely together as you both pass slowly through the streets.

It’s quiet out and relatively deserted, only the occasional car trundling past in the opposite direction, headlights flickering against the pair of you as it goes. You cast a sidelong glance at Johnny as he continues to lead the way, his steps leisurely and relaxed.

There's a light flush to his cheeks from the excessive summer air, his dark bangs falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead. You want nothing more than to stop, to push back the strands, and you just can’t help yourself as you pause and tug him back, your lips brushing softly against his cheek.

His eyes widen at your action, shooting you a shy smile as your fingers card through his hair, tucking it behind his ears as best you can.

“That's better,” you concede after a moment, pulling back to admire your handy work and smiling fondly when one stray strand falls back into his eyes.

“Much better,” Johnny nods, linking your fingers together and leading you on once more. “C’mon, we got places to be.”

That, of course, is a lie. You two aren't doing anything except wasting time, trying to make up for all the moments lost since the incident at the diner. The two of you have managed to avoid any questions from the gang, keeping your interactions limited to quick kisses when nobody is looking and soft smiles from across the room. That is, until today, of course.

Your fingers lace in a loose hold with Johnny’s, your hand fitting neatly into his, as the two of you walk along in silence. It had been tough getting away from the others, even if it was only for a few minutes, and it seemed that, no matter where you went, someone was always there to interrupt the two of you. You'd tried to sneak away to get some privacy, but each time you did, at least one of the guys seemed determined to tag along.

But this time you were lucky. It seemed as though you had managed to get away without anyone finding out and, for once, it was just you and Johnny.

Or so you thought…

“Hey!” Someone shouts from behind you and, almost instinctively, you and Johnny jump apart, trying not to let your panic show as you turn around to see not only Two-bit, but Ponyboy too, running across the street to meet you guys. Johnny’s face drops and you let out a huff as Two slings an arm over your shoulders, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Say, Y/N, whatcha doing hanging out with someone like Johnnycake, huh?” He teases, causing the boy’s cheeks to flush red.

“Shut up…” He mutters softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Pony comes to stand beside him. “What do ya’ll want?”

Two-bit cocks his brow, a devious smirk spreading across his lips. “Aw, c'mon, is our presence really that unappealing to you?”

Johnny narrows his eyes at his friend, glancing back at you to gauge your reaction. You shrug helplessly, unable to hide your slightly annoyed expression, as the two greasers begin to walk alongside you.

Another date crashed spectacularly before it had even started… again… and another close call.

0.4 - a ‘not-so-secret’ secret

The gang is all gathered in the living room of the Curtis House, scattered about in various states of entertainment, talking amongst one another or watching whatever is playing on the TV. You're perched on the arm of the couch, trying your best to listen to whatever it is the pony is telling you; however, your gaze keeps occasionally drifting to the front door as you wait anxiously for Johnny to show up.

It's almost seven thirty now, and already a million different thoughts are racing through your mind, ranging from ‘what if’s’ to 'maybe...', but eventually, your curiosity wins out and you can't help but ask.

“Where’s Johnny?”

Pony pauses mid-story, turning slightly to look at you before casting you a confused glance.

“Huh?”

“I mean…” You wrack your brain for something else to say, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks and making your skin feel clammy. “He hasn't shown up yet, and normally he's one of the first to arrive. I just wondered where he was.”

There's a small silence, and Ponyboy shrugs, glancing at the door himself, and then back at you. “Dunno. Maybe he couldn't make it. You know how tough things are for him.”

You sigh softly, biting your bottom lip. A sudden fear grows within you as your mind fills with images of Johnny in various states of hurt or distress. You know, if he wasn't going to come tonight, he would have called at least to let you know. His absence doesn’t bode well.

“Yeah,” You say quietly, shaking your head as you try to dispel the unpleasant thoughts, glancing around briefly as you realise that everyone has gone quiet at your mention of Johnny. “Yeah, maybe.”

Pony nods, giving you a reassuring smile, and slowly everyone goes back to their previous tasks, but, despite yourself, the anxiety remains in the pit of your stomach. You keep glancing towards the hallway every few seconds, your heart beating rapidly in your chest and your palms beginning to sweat slightly.

Your breath hitches at the sound of the screen door opening, your attention snapping to the doorway to find Johnny, his hair dishevelled and clothes rumpled, but otherwise appearing fine. He meets your gaze, and, in a flash, you are up, rushing to greet him.

The gang all share knowing looks, exchanging amused glances between one another.

Things are really starting to add up…

“Say, how come I didn’t get no greetin’ like that?” Two-bit feigns offence, placing his hand over his heart as you and Johnny part awkwardly.

“Well,” You start, clearing your throat, before glancing at Johnny once more. “Um…” You trail off, realising that there's only one way to go with this.

So, taking a deep, steady breath, you step forward and grasp Johnny's hand in your own, squeezing tightly. He returns the gesture with equal intensity, his thumb caressing your knuckles gently.

“We're dating…” You mumble, barely loud enough for anybody else to hear, although you could swear that the entire group freezes for a beat.

A beat that seems to last forever.

And then:

“We know.”

You turn to look at Dallas, who is lounging across the couch, his legs stretched out before him, a cigarette held loosely between his lips as he regards you calmly and nonchalantly.

“What do you mean you knew?” Johnny asks incredulously. The greaser waves his hand dismissively.

“Ya’ll aren’t as subtle as you think.” He grins lazily, “Besides, I figured it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

You roll your eyes at Dallas, and instead of voicing a reply, you pull Johnny closer by the hand and lean up for a kiss, ignoring the cheers and shouts that erupt from around you.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

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applejuicebegood · 5 months

Note

Hi babes! It’s Naz (from @midnightorchids, I just realized you can’t send messages from side blogs unfortunately), I hope you're doing well!! I thought that since you're always sending me fun little scenarios, it's only fair if I send something back! Someone requested this prompt earlier this week and it’s quite rushed, but I thought you'd enjoy reading this as well. Let me know your thoughts!

Jason's hand grazes the soft surface of your skin, his fingers delicately tracing the thin lines of the new tattoo adorning your neck.

The tattoo was an homage to your love for him and he's touched. No one's ever made him feel this way before.

Jason's spent a lot time in the dark, closed off from the rest of world, feeling unlovable, but you made him feel otherwise. When he was with you, he no longer saw the horrid man he once thought he was. With you, he felt loved, he felt enough.

Jason bites back a smile and his fingers continue to dance around your skin, it tickles, but you let him continue.

The tattoo was more for you than it was for Jason, it was a constant reminder of his presence. A reminder for when he left for long missions, for when you were afraid he might not make it back. You now always had a piece of him with you.

You had it planned out for months and had finally got the courage to go through with it. Now, on the back side of your neck, sits a small bat, Jason's bat, his symbol.

Jason's fingers lace around your jaw, making you face him. He cradles your face gently into his palms and you find yourself snuggling into his touch.

"You did this for me," he questions softly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Just for you Jay," you reply and he smiles, hard, teeth and all.

"It's so fucking pretty, you're so pretty," and he places a soft kiss on your lips. "Can't believe you did this for me babe," and he kisses you again. With every kiss, you can feel him smirking harder against your lips, he's excited, he's happy.

He pulls back and laughs, rubbing his face with hands. His laugh is deep and contagious, you find yourself giggling with him.

"Holy shit dude, you really got a tattoo for me," he exclaims. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"No one better have Jay," you say furrowing your eyebrows, trying to get serious, but there's a huge smile plastered on your face. Jason reciprocates with a cheesy lopsided grin.

He pulls you in close again, this time embracing you with his large frame, you hug back tighter and he kisses the crown of your head, with a loud 'muah' sound.

"I love you," he says.

"And I love you Red," you reply and he takes that as a sign to continue smothering you with kisses.

NO CUZ I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT. Was literally having the worst time studying for English finals and then you part the clouds and grace me with this!!!! Like are you kidding???!!!!! And you best believe Jason has tattoos on his body specifically about you. In some of the comics and fanart he's got these detailed sleeves or back pieces, I personally think he's got a more patchwork kinda style. He would get your birth flower or the date of your anniversary tattooed on the inside of his wrist or his chest (over the heart). You would smile and hide your face in your own giddy puppy love as you lay across his naked chest, the tattoo just under your cheek. He think's it's incredibly funny and sweet. If you ever decide to get more tattoos yourself, he's coming with you to every session. It's more to help with the pain of it- offering his hand for you to squeeze or his arms to lean onto if ur feeling woozy and need a break. I think ya'll would get really small/subtle matching tattoos. Like a small sun and moon- or a the first letter of your names tattooed on the other. It's something easily hidden that only the both of you get to blush and giggle over. HAND TATTOOED JASON DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY- you would kiss over the lettering or the curved lined patters over the tops of his hands and across every knuckle. He melts as you bring his palm up to your cold cheek, now holding your face so gently.

- Man dude- like I said, was having a really rough go of it and this literally turned my day entirely around. Like I was able to get the rest of my review stuff done cuz I was feeling so much better after reading this. Your such a gift babe - thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!! Masterlist

#jason todd #batfam #batfamily #red hood #robin jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine

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cobaltperun · 9 months

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Lost (4) - When they come for me

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Warning for this chapter: I believe it is intense and violent, if you are sensitive to graphic depictions of violence, please don't read

Word count: 5.3k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Opposite of lazy, far from a punk, Ya'll ought to stop talking, start tryin' to catch up motherfucker-

You've always been a light sleeper, well, unless Tara was in your arms. She relaxed you, her warmth, her body close to yours, brought you peace, chased away any nightmare you might have. Unless she was sick and you were taking care of her she made it harder for anything else to wake you up. You still should have been more alert. Sam got attacked, yet you relaxed completely, believing the police officer outside of Tara’s room would do his job. You should have realized that it was clear the attacker could get into the hospital and slip out unnoticed.

Yet you didn't wake up until a robe brushed against you.

Not that it mattered. That was still plenty of time.

Your right hand shot up, grabbing the wrist and you immediately saw a knife. The black robes, the chilling, white mask, the knife. In the darkness of the room, the person in front of you looked more like a mini Grimm Reaper than a human. You weren't struggling, you did feel the Ghostface trying to push the knife into your chest, with both hands now, but you were still stronger. You were just still drowsy from sleeping and this just wasn't triggering your fight-or-flight response, you didn't even feel any adrenaline. You felt anger though, coursing through your veins, that need for revenge threatening to make you act rash.

You wouldn’t though. You were a trained fighter; you wouldn’t be consumed by emotions. You faked a yawn, wishing to irritate the Ghostface, you’d break it mentally first. Once it realized it couldn’t do anything to you, that’s when you’d beat it up.

You felt more than saw Tara shifting her weight, she woke up due to your sudden movement. Tara screamed, her healthy hand getting between your chest and the knife, though luckily she didn’t try to grab the knife, and you finally saw tiny dark red spots on the knife. The desire to mentally break the attacker vanished, leaving only the thoughts of beating the monster within an inch of its life and then letting it rot in prison.

You jerked your knee up, colliding it with Ghostface’s right shoulder. The pushing against the knife stopped and you forced your elbow into the attacker's guts. With the Ghostface gasping to regain its' breath the next part was a walk in the park. Without letting go of the wrist you slipped Tara off you as gently as you could, though not without giving her a comforting squeeze to the shoulder. "I'll be right back," you began sitting up as the Ghostface tried to get out of your vice grip. It tried to make you let go of its wrist, to pry your hand open, to push it away, to take the knife, but the way you were holding its right hand made sure it couldn’t let go of the knife either. The struggles were futile as you lifted your right arm, still holding onto Ghostface’s wrist and proceeded to punch it in the stomach once again with your left fist. Another punch to the side of the head and you felt the person underneath the mask going limp in your hold.

"Let's take this outside," you growled at Ghostface, fury burning in your eyes. This attacked Tara, this hurt her! This thing? That didn't even bother to clean the knife? As if her blood was something it wanted to admire. Maybe it was someone else's blood? It didn't matter. The possibility that it was Tara's was enough. The possibility that this was the knife that the monster used to hurt her was enough. You slammed the monster against the wall, disorienting it further, before pushing it out the doors. There was no need to do this anywhere near Tara.

That's when you saw it, a body to your right, the blood. So, it did kill someone... Your attention went back to the killer as it tried to get back up. With a scoff on your face, you approached the Ghostface to shut that idea down. A reckless, almost desperate slash missed your neck by several inches, you stepped to the side to avoid the next one, swept the arm holding the knife away and once again went for the head, slamming your fist into the mask and hearing a small crack.

The Ghostface tried to stab you again and yet again you grabbed the wrist. "Got you," it was the first time you heard the voice Tara heard as she was being attacked. It was, indeed, a chilling voice. A glint of another knife caught your attention, and you pulled back before it could reach you, switching from standing your ground and pummeling the monster to a proper fighting stance, bouncing lightly on your feet and putting up a guard.

It was just in time as well, as you narrowly ducked underneath another knife. Another Ghostface. Well, as long as they were focused on you, you were okay with this situation. You grappled the one that just attacked you, reaching down as you ducked and grabbed the attacker's shin, forcing it to the ground with a loud thud. You didn't have time to attack again, as the other Ghostface lunged at you aiming to end the fight with the two knives.

You lightly nudged one of the arms away and dodged to the side, leaving you enough opening to land a quick punch to the enemy's side. By the time you pulled away from the dual-wielding Ghostface the other, taller one got back up. The dual-wielding Ghostface didn't give you time to focus back on the other one and tried to stab you again. You pulled back just out of reach and grabbed one of the arms, twisting it and forcing the murderer to drop the knife. As the other Ghostface rushed you from your right you leaned forward wrapping your arm around the waist of the one in front of you and tossing it at its partner. The two stumbled back a bit but otherwise remained on their feet.

You raised an eyebrow when they seemed to look at each other. The smaller one motioned toward Tara's room, and your heart began beating faster. No way, not a chance.

They split up, the taller one heading for Tara's room while the one that began all of this attacked you. You had moments to react, you feinted with a punch to the head, and just as the Ghostface stopped you spun around, landing a spinning back kick to the side. The other Ghostface stopped right in front of Tara's room, as if taunting you.

And like a fool, you took the bait. Not that it mattered, you had no choice but to take the bait. It was either this or letting Ghostface get to Tara.

You went after it, sidestepping a stab and landing a knee on its chest. With each hit you pushed it back, away from Tara's room. A series of quick punches to the head and upper body should have finished the one in front of you off, and you would have, as you pulled your fist back, ready to slam a haymaker right to the side of its’ head, but instead, there was a loud bang, and you felt a piercing pain in your right side. You stumbled forward, stopping the flurry of punches and looking back, your eyes wide in surprise. The other Ghostface wasn't right behind you. It wasn't holding a knife. It was holding a gun.

"Guess you aren't invincible after all," the Ghostface taunted and went for your neck. With a grunt, you got back up and traded a blow to the side of the head for a cut across the right side of your jawline. Not too deep, but it would leave a scar. Ghostface didn't get up, but it didn't matter. You lost.

"How about we play a game, Y/N, where you don't move, and I don't shoot Tara."

Your blood ran cold, you tried to think of a way out, a way to save Tara, but you couldn’t find any solution. There wasn’t any way to save her, other than to hope that listening to the Ghostface would be enough to buy you some time to figure it out.

"Turn around," you obeyed the command and saw the gun was pointed toward Tara. "On your knees," what choice did you have? You weren't fast enough to reach Ghostface. You couldn't get between Tara and the gun. You couldn't do anything.

To make matters even worse you heard the one you just knocked down getting up. "You really are a guard dog," the phrase the one behind you said was familiar, in the back of your mind you knew you heard it dozens of times, but all you could focus on was the gun pointed at where you left Tara. At the moment, it hardly mattered where or who said that phrase before. And it certainly didn’t matter that he slammed the handle of the knife to the back of your neck, you didn’t react and that seemed to stop him from doing it again.

"Here's how things are going to go. One of you dies here, but one of you might just survive if you play along," the one with the gun decided. "Tara, come here or we'll slit Y/N's throat."

"Leave her out of this!" you immediately moved to get up, but the finger getting closer to the trigger stopped you and you settled down, biting your lip and forcing your body to stay still. Where was the security?! Surely someone heard a gunshot, right?

What were you thinking? As if they’d risk their lives to face a lunatic.

"You broke the first rule," the Ghostface behind you whispered in your ear and stabbed the knife into your left side. You barely held back a scream, instead inhaling sharply and gritting your teeth. Fighting professionally for two years made you think you could tolerate pain, and to an extent you could, much better than most people, but this was a whole different kind of pain. The warm blood soaking your shirt around the wound, the piercing pain, it was like nothing you have ever experienced.

And Tara was stabbed again and again, alone in her own house, where she was meant to be safe.

Your wounds didn't hurt nearly as much as hearing Tara whimper in pain as she got out of the room in her wheelchair. You could see the blood soaking her bandaged left hand and you desperately wanted to get to her, to protect her. "Y/N," she whispered weakly, tears filling her eyes.

For the first time in years, you truly weren't sure what to do to help her. You wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all end well, but you couldn't.

"Now, here's a game we're going to play," the one near Tara spoke up and got behind Tara's wheelchair. "Are you scared Tara? Y/N failed to protect you."

"Fuck you," Tara gritted out, glaring despite the pain she was in.

"Another one," on command the Ghostface behind you added another stab to your left side.

"No!" Tara screamed as you gasped for breath.

"If you move in any way I don't want you to, Y/N gets another one of those. If she moves, I slit your pretty little throat. You got it, Baby?" Tara remained silent. "Guess that's another one then."

Realizing what Ghostface meant Tara quickly nodded. "I got it!" she cried out, her breathing already labored.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? Next up, you get to choose what happens. You can live by shooting your precious guard dog," you and Tara looked at each other, equally terrified. Of all the things the monster could have asked for... You couldn't even try to convince Tara to do it, because what if that made them change their mind and then they asked Tara to do something even worse.

"No, no," Tara shook her head as the gloved hand slid down to Tara's left hand.

"Do you need me to hold your hand?" Ghostface squeezed Tara's injured hand and then pointed the gun at you as Tara whimpered in pain. "It's easy. Look Baby," the Ghostface fired the gun and if the one behind you didn't hold you back you would have fallen to the floor. You gasped as the burning pain engulfed your abdomen and just for a moment you couldn't hear anything, not even Tara's screams of your name.

"So, so easy," the Ghostface leaned down next to Tara and, while still maintaining a strong grip on the gun, placed Tara's right hand on in.

"I'm begging you, don't make me do this," Tara wept as she desperately tried to get free from Ghostface's grip.

"Keep begging," the Ghostface encouraged, clearly pleased by Tara’s desperate attempts to plead for your life while pulling the sleeve of the jacket Tara was wearing up and then taking a knife and cutting through the bandages wrapped around her hand.

"I'll do anything else, whatever you ask, just please not this!" her voice was getting hoarse. "Please, anything but this!"

"Fine. Here's anything but that," and then, with the gun still in Tara's hand, the Ghostface pushed Tara's finger against the trigger and fired the gun. The bullets hit you in quick succession, one near your left shoulder, the other grazing your right shoulder.

"Y/N!" Tara's desperate scream echoed throughout the hall.

"Careful with that aim, you nearly shot me too," Ghostface behind you complained and pushed you down to the ground.

You could feel your heart beating faster, drops of cold sweat falling from your face as you tried to control yourself, to stay strong for Tara.

"You know I'd never hurt you," the other reassured and then got the gun out of Tara's hand. "I don't know what you are screaming about, Tara. You got what you wanted right? You didn't kill Y/N," the monster even began slowly reopening the wound on her hand, digging the tip of the knife into the surface,

“Stop that!” you raged, as Tara cried out. At this point, the situation was far too desperate to hope Tara would make it out of this alive, so you tried to find whatever strength was left in your body to get up. The weight on your back was too much and your arms, especially the left one gave out after a couple of attempts.

Tara's sobbing turned into coughing and wheezing and even from where you were you could see and hear she was struggling to breathe. Asthma. Now of all times. "Tara!" you couldn't remember the last time you yelled as loud as that. "You won! I can't fight back! Just let her go!"

"Let her go?" the Ghostface holding Tara reached around and squeezed her neck. "Why? She didn't do her part of the deal; she didn't kill you. Did you, Baby?" the monster ignored Tara's rapidly worsening condition and pointed the gun at you. "Hmm? Should I do it instead? That way you can feel less guilty. What do you say? Want me to do it just for you? Want me to kill the one you love so you don’t have to?"

Despite an asthma attack Tara quickly shook her head, her tear-filled eyes met yours for just a moment, the despair, the anguish showing in her eyes, almost made you look away.

"What was that? You have to speak up if you want something. Here, I'll even count to three. One," Ghostface taunted as Tara desperately opened her mouth, but all that came out were gasps and failed attempts at pleading for your life.

You doubled your efforts, managing to push your body up. You had no idea how much more Tara could take, and you were not about to find out.

"Hurry up and speak Baby, we're at two now," another taunt, another struggle, all for nothing.

"Damn it!" you yelled, pushing even harder to get up, but a stab below your shoulder blade made you drop down to your forearms once more.

"Oh, Baby, guess you don't love her enough, after all, all those times you daydreamed about your guard dog, all those nights you dreamt of her, and yet you just don’t love her enough," there was even a gleeful cheeriness in the bastard's voice.

"N-No!" it came out as if spoken by someone on the verge of drowning, desperate and gasping for breath, but there was no doubt what word came out of Tara's mouth.

For a moment everything stopped, your struggles to get free, both Ghostfaces, it all stopped. The only things that continued were Tara's desperate attempts to get her breathing under any semblance of control. "Please, no," it sounded even worse than the first no she spoke.

"Okay, okay, Baby, I get it," it started out calm, that damn voice, but then there was a muffled maniacal cackle. "Well, someone has to die, Tara! Otherwise, this was all for nothing!" and then the monster tilted the wheelchair, tossing Tara to the floor. "Guess you made the decision on who goes first!"

The pain from gunshots, the stab wounds, the weight pressing on your back; the adrenaline rushing through your body pushed all of that away when the Ghostface pointed the gun at Tara. Get to her. Nothing else matters! You abruptly pushed your body up, digging the knife deeper into your back. That didn't matter. In a split-second decision, realizing you couldn't just get up, you stopped holding your body up and twisted as both you and the Ghostface holding you down dropped to the floor. Your right elbow landed on the side of the Ghostface's head.

At last, you did it. You were stumbling back to your feet, but it was a few moments too late.

"Tara!" your eyes met as the trigger was pulled, but instead of a gunshot, all you heard was a deafening click. The euphoria at the realization the gun was fresh out of bullets added a much-needed boost of energy to your movements as you slammed a haymaker into the Ghostface's mask. The Ghostface dropped to the floor, and just for a moment, you considered finishing it off. It would end one half of this nightmare, and the other one would be easier to deal with, but Tara's coughing getting even worse made the decision for you.

There was no time left to finish the fight or to be gentle, and you dropped to your knees next to her. Getting hurt, aggravating the wounds, those could be fixed. Suffocating when there was no way you could get her to safety quickly enough, couldn't. So, you, as carefully as the situation allowed, turned Tara around.

She whimpered, biting her lip and then immediately continued coughing. As she struggled to take a breath you put your arms beneath her knees and upper back. "I got you, okay?" Tara managed a weak nod as you got back up, your knees nearly buckling under the pressure.

The first step was torture, unsteady and painful. Your arms screamed for you to just let go. You could feel the stab wounds and the gunshot wounds getting worse due to the strain you were putting on your body.

And then there was pressure on your gunshot wound. The one near your left shoulder. Tara, despite wheezing and gasping for air, couldn't take her eyes off the wound. The third gunshot. The one that happened while the gun was in the very same hand she was using to press on the wound. The steps that came after that became easier, quicker, and before you realized it you were back in her hospital room and putting her back on the bed.

The inhaler was, luckily, easy to find and you shook it before bringing it up to Tara's lips. She wouldn't take it though. Her eyes remained glued to your wounds. She was starting to sweat now, as her breathing became more and more shallow, but she kept pressing the wound, stuck in her thoughts, and likely blaming herself for that wound.

"Tara, look at me," you pleaded, cradling her cheek with your free hand. "Tara, please," panic was setting in. "Love, look at me," that somehow seemed to snap her out of it. You couldn't blame her, you had no idea where that one came from, but it got her to look you in the eyes. And that was all you needed, just Tara not looking at all the blood covering your upper body, or the blood slowly dripping from your jaw down your neck.

Finally, her lips parted, and she accepted the inhaler, and your body relaxed as Tara's breathing gradually went back to normal. Her right hand remained pressed against your wound. "I hurt you," she cried out, clutching your shirt as tightly as she could, despite her own pain.

"No. No, you didn't. You hear me? None of this is your fault," you took her hand, gently pulling it toward your heart. "Still beating, okay?"

Tara squeezed her eyes shut and nodded as tears fell from her eyes.

“I’m okay, Tara,” you wiped her tears away, smiling slightly when she leaned into your touch, her breathing shaky, but at least her asthma wasn’t an issue right now.

Both of you heard steps and your eyes widened at the realization. It wasn't over. Tara began shaking as she dragged her hand to the back of your neck. She pulled, simultaneously pulling you closer and pushing her body closer to you. You took a deep breath, just for one more moment basking in her warmth, and then you were ready for this to be your end, as long as you took these two down with you.

"Pull the knife out," you almost forgot it was still there. "I need a weapon."

Tara's eyes widened at that, but seeing the look in your eyes and hearing the steps approaching she shakily pulled your head to her shoulder and reached down for the knife. You bunched up some of her hospital gown and your jacket she was still wearing and bit down, trying not to notice how your blood stained her clothes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tara kept repeating and your arms went around her as she began pulling the knife out. It hurt even more than it did when you got stabbed. You felt the blood trickling down your back, it wouldn't be long before the blood loss would kick in. You were already starting to feel lightheaded so maybe it already kicked in. All you knew was that the knife was out, that it was now on the floor next to you, that Tara was still apologizing, and that the footsteps stopped. From the sound of it, the bastard was right at the door.

You bit back a groan, picked up the knife from the floor, and got up as smoothly as you possibly could. "Damn, you're persistent..."

"I should say the same thing," the Ghostface, from his height you figured it was the one that was holding you down before, spoke. "You still want to fight?" thankfully, it looked like all the hits you landed were effective. There was an undeniable tremble in the attacker's posture. He wasn't as shaken as you were, but you had experience on your side, so things were more or less even you supposed.

"Tara is right behind me," you said, at peace with whatever was about to happen. You'd at least take these monsters down with you. As long as the other one doesn't get up right away you might actually do it. The bastard still didn't get into the hospital room. Not that it mattered. You'd wait. Maybe that would let you recover enough strength to pull through.

You felt a weak pull at your shirt and smiled somberly when you heard a sob. "Just in case I don't get another chance. You saved a life that had no right to continue. So let me-"

You were interrupted when several gunshots made the Ghostface in front of you and Tara run for cover.

"Tara!" you both heard Sam's shout and you couldn't help but grin as you looked back at Tara. Finally, there was relief in her eyes.

You sighed. "I'm getting you out of this damn town ASAP," and you would. Damn it, you would. The moment someone patched you up you'd be on your way to preferably Sacramento, or, alternatively, San Francisco. Susan was a nurse, she could take care of Tara, so you really hoped she'd let you stay at her place.

Sam rushed in along with a man you vaguely recognized. The former sheriff? You really didn't have the energy to think about that right now.

"Oh, Sam!" the relief in Tara's voice was like a balm to the wounds. Everything would be fine now.

"I'm here," Sam reassured Tara and then looked at you. "Oh, God, Y/N," yeah, you imagined there was a lot of blood, everything kind of felt wet and sticky.

"Come on, we need to get out of here," the man ushered the three of you.

"Y/N can't, she's injured," Tara sounded desperate and you couldn't blame her, you really couldn't. You were injured, she was injured, she couldn't walk and there were two murderers between you and safety.

You looked at her blankly. "You did not just..." oh, if you weren't already motivated to get the hell out of the hospital, now you'd move out of spite. You handed the knife to Sam. "How's this for 'can't', huh?" Tara yelped when you once again lifted her up. "Keep us safe?" the question was mostly directed at Sam.

"Of course," there was certainty in Sam's eyes. You could recognize that look, Tara could recognize that look. It was the same look you had plenty of times during the fight. Sam would rather die than let anything happen to Tara.

"Sam," Tara tried to speak, maybe to say something about the way they ended the conversation from earlier that day, or maybe it was something else entirely, but Sam just leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"We'll talk later," she promised softly.

The man, who you now realized was holding a gun, left the hospital room first and Sam followed him. You were the last to step outside and you looked at your options. The elevator would be the best option if you could reach it. It was far and there was a Ghostface in your path, the one that was holding Tara, the one you knocked out, at least temporarily. There was no telling how long Ghostface would stay unconscious though. Not to mention another one was still somewhere nearby. Still, the stairs, while closer, were probably even more dangerous. Not to mention that you, plain and simple, didn't have enough strength to do it. The man and Sam probably had a similar train of thought, as they began moving toward the elevator.

This time Sam was the one leading as the man remained close behind you. With the way your vision was getting blurry this really was the best option. If you and Sam switched you doubted you'd be able to fight back, like this, you were mostly moving on autopilot. You heard a commotion behind you, you were vaguely aware of Sam stopping, conflicted over helping the man or keeping her guard up in case the unconscious Ghostface regained consciousness and attacked again. You were completely aware of Tara's whimper, of her fear as she curled into you as much as she could. So, you kept moving. You passed the unconscious Ghostface, you reached the elevator, you got in. Sam got in. The man didn't.

They argue. Someone mentioned the head. Pain. Pressure on the chest. Shooting. Elevator lights.

Tara.

Too bright. The hall was dark. White flashes. Dizzy.

Tara.

Doors closing. Cold sweat. Words. Someone speaking. Buzzing. Heart is too loud. Heart. Brother.

Zack.

Keep going. In, out, two times in, out, in, two times out. Keep doing that. Keep breathing. You have to make sure Tara is safe. Keep breathing.

Tara.

Doors open. Move. Move. Move. Something pulls your head down.

Tara.

It's soft. Small. Trembling. Hand. You're moving.

Tara.

The hand vanishes. You feel lighter. Tara isn't struggling to stay in your arms. Did Sam take her? Who took her? Your vision clears just for a moment, and you see the doctors around the three of you.

Tara is safe.

Everything goes black.

~X~

Nothing could have prepared Sam for the way Tara cried out your name, raw, frightened, desperate for you to respond to her. It made Sam turn around just in time to see you stumbling back and dropping to the ground.

“Help her, please! I-“ Tara gasped, tethering on the edge of another asthma attack and causing Sam to rush to her side, to hold her and try to calm her down. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” Tara still cried covering her eyes with her hands and the blood stains left on her face, your blood on the side of Tara’s hospital gown and jacket… Tara felt it, the warmth and stickiness of it, the smell of it, and Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine how her sister must be feeling right now.

Sam knew you got seriously hurt, but seeing you carrying Tara made her think it wasn’t as bad as it looked. She looked back at you, just as you were being taken away, and then at the spot where you fell, and the stains of blood left behind. There was so much blood there and she feared you might not survive. It was only a fleeting fear, because you would survive. You’d survive, you’d survive for Tara. Sam had to believe I that, otherwise she’d start panicking as well.

“Sam, help Y/N,” Tara pleaded, looking up at Sam the same way she used to when they were children and thought Sam could do anything.

But Sam couldn’t do anything right now. She couldn’t help or fix you up, she could just wait with Tara.

“She’s strong, she’ll get through this,” was all she could say as she held Tara as tightly as she could without further aggravating Tara’s injuries.

Sam felt tears soaking through her shirt. “I shot her,” Tara said, and then repeated those same words, stuck in that moment, spiraling into guilt and fear and Sam had no way of helping her. She simply didn’t know how to properly approach Tara now. What to tell her, and Sam fully understood what the distance did to them. She no longer knew how to make her own sister, the person she loved the most, feel safe.

The only option remaining, before she got another asthma attack, or did something to worsen her wounds was to sedate her and check up on her injuries. And Sam? Sam felt helpless.

Even more so she saw Dewey in a body bag. Tara nearly getting killed twice, you nearly getting killed. Wes, Judy, and now Dewey, dead, all because some lunatic somehow found out she was Billy’s daughter and was now after her. In the back of her mind, she thought she didn’t deserve to be the one capable of making Tara feel safe, not when she was the reason why Tara wasn’t safe in the first place.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

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whispereons · 1 year

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Oracle!Reader Part 7

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 6, Part 8

I'm so sorry. I completely forgot the warnings! This chapter has more talk about sensitive topics. But it does not show or go into detail about it.

Dreams didn't haunt your sleep this time. You slept peacefully but woke up a little groggy from the ships movements. After readjusting your mask and freshening up, you left to find whatever food the Crux has.

The swaying ship's interior looked different in the daylight. So if you got a little lost while trying to find the stairs, then you can't be blamed. Eventually you did find it and climbed it to the main deck.

Most of the crew members seemed to be here already. The vast ocean surrounded you with no land in sight. You thought back to the players that would make ice bridges from Liyue to Inazuma using Kaeya.

"Oh that's them!" A yell catches your attention as a hand is roughly placed on your shoulder. You look up to see a tall, broad man with dark hair and a beard smiling down at you. He looked very familair and the sun casting a shadow on him helped you remember. This was the exhausted man that you showed the fan to, to board the Alcor.

"Is this the person you saw moving everyone off the floors, last night Sea Drake?" The man with his hand on your shoulder asks another man with a eyepatch and red bandana who nods.

"That's them Juza. I heard the creator's wishing show happening and by the time I was in the hallway I saw them moving ya'll halfdead bodies off the floor."

Oh fuck, did he see you wishing?

"I'm a little confused on what you both are talking about. My name is Y/N, I'm a guest that Lord Ayato paid for. Sea Drake was it? Did you see the creator's wishing?"

"We definitely should've introduced ourselves before talking to ya like this. I'm Sea Drake, the helmsman of this ship. Sadly no, when I came outside it was already finished, I only saw the gold star through the window in my room."

Crisis avoided. Juza releases your shoulder and picks up a bag. The way he cheerfully gives it to you is much different then how he acted when you first met him.

"I'm Juza, you showed me the Kamisato fan when you boarded last night. Man , what a shock it was when I woke up and remembered! Come sit with us and the other crewmates! We all wanted to thank ya for spending the time to move us."

You open the bag to see 4 pieces of grilled unagi meat. Your stomach growls at the sight and Sea Drake pulls you to a pile of crates where the other crewmembers are.

"This is Y/N! They're Kamisato's chosen guest, and also the one who moved us before the crates crushed us."

Two women and a man look at you with varying expressions. It's a girl wearing an eyepatch that introduces herself first.

"I'm Furong, I'm just a sailor in charge of fighting. Since you managed to move me then you must have some strength."

The second woman speaks up with a smile. "And I'm Huixing, the crews navigator. That guy is Suling, don't expect much of an introduction, he only likes weapons."

Suling sends Huxing a glare and huffs, "And you only like marine biology."

"So? At least I can say my name, you barely give anyone who isn't a crewmate or a weapon smith the time of day."

They start to bicker as you start eating the Unagi meat, it tasted so good. Sea Drake hands you crystal shrimp and you accept it with a smile. You only eat half of it when Furong silently hands you a plate of squirrel fish.

Isn't this too much food to give to someone? But you wouldn't say no to food, let alone food that smelled so delicious.

"Thanks Furong." You flash a smile at the stoic woman as you taste the sweet and sour dish. She nods and Huixing see's just how much food was handed to you.

"If you'll are gonna thank Y/N with food then you should have given some crab too." Huixing puts a container next to you that looks very similar to crab roe tofu. How were you supposed to eat everything?

"Don't you see the amount of food is too much? You were better off giving Y/N a drink instead." To your surprise the gruff Suling handed you a rainbow aster. A sip let you know that it was lavender melon flavored.

"I don't mind, I didn't eat last night so I was starving." Being handed this much food may be overwhelming but you would be lying if you said it wasn't exciting.

Making it your goal to finish everything they gave you, you start chowing down. They watch you in vague fascination and slight horror as you eat everything. You only had the last half of the rainbow aster left.

Bringing it to your lips you chug it down without stopping. You're pretty sure someone is chanting "Chug! Chug!" until you finish the drink with a smile.

"Man, that all tasted so good." You wipe your mouth and set the glass down. Juza pats your back roughly with a loud laugh.

"I've never seen someone eat all that food in one sitting! Not super surprising since you are Lord Kamisato's chosen guest."

Furong, Huixing, and even Suling seem shocked at this information.

"You're the chosen guest? Are you super strong or super important? Maybe even know some important information on sea creatures?" Huixing asks in a rush.

"Oh, nothing like that. I'm a oracle for the creator so I guess I would fall on the important scale. Can I know why being Lord Ayato's chosen guest is so important?" You ask casually.

"An oracle? Really? That does seem worthy enough for Lord Kamisato to use his favor." Did Beidou owe Ayato for something?

"You see years ago before the Captain got her vision, she needed a new claymore. Lord Kamisato sent Thoma to board our ship with the goods we were delivering around the same time. We were attacked by Haishan, a leviathan, and Thoma almost died during it. The captain ended up losing her eye to save Thoma's life."

Well shit. It makes sense now that Ayato trusts the Crux so much despite their less than legal activities.

"When we returned, Lord Kamisato had already heard what had happened. As thanks he had a claymore made for her. The Katsuragikiri Nagamasa and it was that claymore that she used to kill Haishan. But it also destroyed the claymore."

The force Beidou used to cut off Haishan's head without a vision must have great but also reckless that it broke it.

"Lord Kamisato got her another one in exchange that she would take care of anyone that boards the ship with his fan. His chosen guest is what he referred to them as. It's been so long we thought there would never be someone."

"That sounds incredible. I would love to have seen that hydra be slain." No, no you do not want to see that. Mostly cause you don't want to accidently die during that battle.

The conversation moves smoothly to different topics of different adventures. You occasionally give in input when needed but you're gradually getting lost in thought. Mainly wondering if creatures of Teyvat would actually recognize you as the creator, would battles like that still happen?

You blink in surprise when you see Beidou and Kazuha talking on the other side of the ship. When did they get there? Kazuha looks over in your direction and locks eyes with you. You smile and wave holding back laughter at how red he gets.

Beidou on the other hand has no reservation and laughs at him. You're too far away to hear it but her body language says it all. Whatever she tells Kazuha is making him even more embarrassed.

He glances at you before moving to the middle of the ship where no one else is. Having a feeling on what he wants to say, you thanked the crewmembers for the food and left.

You walk to the middle where Kazuha is already waiting for you. As soon as you stop in front of him, he bows low with closed eyes.

"Please accept my sincerest apologies. My behavior yesterday was unbecoming of me and incredibly rude. If you feel uncomfortable around me due to what I had almost done yesterday then I swear to make myself scarce around you."

Well damn, was it really that serious? The way he pinned you against the barrel yesterday was child's play compared to what you've gone through and seen back on Earth.

You smile brightly and held his hands. Clasping his hands tightly you speak with a gentle and kind voice.

"Kazuha I really didn't feel uncomfortable or threatened at all by you last night. It was more funny than anything else! Besides the haiku you told me yesterday was very sweet, I wasn't lying when I said that being your muse was very flattering."

Kazuha sighs and smiles in what seems to be relief. He stands back up straight and you release your grip. A frown flashes on his face for a split second before his expression becomes puzzled.

"I remember you telling me that you're an oracle for the creator. The grace you wield must be from them too." His eyes get warm and hazy for second, most likely from thinking about the 'creator'. He continues in that calm, soft voice you've known him for.

"My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, I'm a ronin who's been traveling for quite some time. I occasionally join Beidou on her voyages and as fate would have it, I even got the chance to meet you here too. It's a pleasure to properly meet you Y/N."

"The creator has shown me some of your previous journeys. There's no need to speak formally with me unless you choose to. As we are both close to the creator, I wish for us to get along."

The wind's breeze is softer than last night's but it still ruffles your hair as you smile at him. Under his breath Kazuha whispers and judging by the slight wonder in his eyes, he must no realize he's speaking aloud.

"Clouds part for a clear smile,

Winds whip for the perfect stage,

Soft eyes and a hypnotic style,

Not even maple leaves can upstage."

After those last words Kazuha notices your bashful expression. In turn he only smiles calmly with a slight tint on his cheeks.

"My drunk words last night were not false. My creativity has been very low these past few weeks, and out of everything I've tried. It is your mere presence that cured it."

"Should I be worried that I'll be sending Kazuha off so soon? It seems like he's enamored with you." Beidou comes striding over to you both with a confident smile.

"Hello, you must be Captain Beidou. Has the blackcliff slasher that the creator granted you been serving you well?" Beidou smiles wider at that, you were right to keep your guard up.

"Straight to the heart, I like that kind of directness. Seems like there's some truth to your claim as an oracle. I hope you don't take any offense to that."

"Not at all, blasphemous people exist after all. Even if you don't trust me, I hope you can at least trust Lord Ayato since he was the one who paid for me."

"You've got a silver tongue, that'll serve you well. Now I've got Kazuha's flowery language and your charming words. Do ya mind if I ask you how you came to know the Commissoner?"

"Not a problem. I was looking to find a boat to leave Inazuma and Itto, the leader of the Arrataki Gang, introduced me to Thoma. Thoma learned that I was an oracle and brought me to the Kamisato Estate. I proved that I'm the real deal to Lord Ayato and he gave me the fan."

You speak with a relaxed stance and hands in your pockets. The simpler and less detailed you put it, the less likely you'll be caught in a lie about. Telling Beidou that you had to pass tests is just not a good idea.

"Well even if I can't fully believe it, it won't matter too much anyway. Having the Commissioners fan and Kazuha's wind trusting you is more than enough proof for me." She says that but you don't feel reassured.

It won't matter anyway. The fan is physical proof that she can't objectify. Plus you had her at C3, she must feel some sort of pull towards you. Whatever way she takes it is up to her.

"But I shouldn't get so distracted. I wanted to let you know that we'll be taking a little longer to pick up some things on a island we pass by. Kazuha, since our lookout Xu Liushi couldn't come due to his sickness, I'll need you to go up there and keep a eye out for now."

The map in the game showed that there was no land between Liyue and Inazuma. Was this something added or was it finally revealed now that you were in Teyvat? It reminds you of your debate on whether this cult thing was added or revealed.

"No problem Beidou, Y/N would you like to come along? The view up there is breathtaking." Beidou nudges Kazuha with a smirk while Kazuha pointedly ignores her.

"That sounds great! This is my first time being on a ship like this."

Going to the top of a armed fleet? The thought of being up there that high gives you slight anxiety but it's overpowered by the childish excitement.

"Excuse me for a moment." Kazuha brief warning is acommnenied by his hands lifting you bridal style. "Hang on tight!"

Anemo swirls around his lower body as he crouches before springing into the air. Expertly he uses the anemo as momentum to bounce off the wood of the sails climbing higher and higher.

The air gets colder and harder to breathe at the speed you're going at. Closing your eyes you hide your face in his chest to protect it from the biting wind.

The thump of his shoes hitting the wood alerts you to his steady landing. Your amazed smile is clear to see as he softly sets you down.

Holding the circular railing tightly you look down to see the dizzingly view of the deck below you. It was such a dangerous position but the sight of the seemingly endless ocean was enrapturing.

"I personally perfer sitting on the edge of the boat but the scenery here has a certain charm to it too."

You look behind you to see Kazuha leaning back on the railing with his head angled up. His hair is ruffled by the wind and you admire the handsome man. Little details that you couldn't see on official artwork or game models became clearer.

The callouses on his hands. The wear and tear on his clothes. Even the hint of scars behind his bandages did not go unnoticed by your eyes. Moving to look at his face, you meet his eyes. Were those scarlet eyes always so peaceful yet striking?

"Last night you mentioned how I feel like a sweet dream and that the wind speaks highly of me. Today you spoke of it too. Can you tell me what the wind says of me?"

"I am unable to speak to it with words. It communicates to me with feelings and other abstract ways. I've just been in contact with it for so long that I would describe my communication with it as hearing."

Kazuha has been able to hear nature since he was little so he must have gained a lot of experience in understanding what it's trying to say to him. It's quiet before Kazuha speaks his next words with care.

"The wind has a unique way of speaking when it comes to the creator. That same way is also used when it speaks about you. The only one that has ever gotten as close to it as you, would be the traveler. But you surpass even her. As the creator speaks to you, it makes perfect sense that it speaks about you so similarly to the creator."

So, his own opinion makes him interpret the wind differently. If he saw your bare face and you introduced yourself simply by your name, he might have really believed you to be the creator. All those details plus the wind's reaction would make him entertain the idea.

But how long would it have lasted? All it would take is to see your crimson blood to make him start doubting. Doubts will creep in and eat away at his mind until he twists the wind's feelings into 'the wind is warning me of them pretending to be the creator by mimicking their appearance and scent.'

"It's such an honor to be seen similarly to the creator. I hope it can stay like that forever. I'm not sure if the creator will stay with me forever but I'm thankful that I can at least meet people like you on this journey."

Your words are like sickly saccharine. Sweet to others but sickening to you. The lies rot your teeth like sugar as you clasp your hands together. Smiling shyly you look at Kazuha with a earnest expression.

For a second, Kazuha's breath seems stolen. His cheeks gain a rosy hue and his gaze seems to swallow you whole. Until the expression falls and his eyebrows pinch together slightly.

"Is somethi-"

"Oi Kazuha! I need your help with something for a second!"

Furong is the one calling him. If it wasn't for the anemo providing aid to help you hear better, you would have missed it completely. Kazuha looks down and glances at you with a contemplative expression.

"I'll head down in a second!" Kazuha reluctantly yells back before looking back at you with a soft almost sorrowful smile.

"I'll be heading down to help them, if you don't mind staying up here then please wait for me to come back."

You nod to show your agreement and watch him leave. The glimmer of worry in his eyes doesn't escape yours.

There's no way your front failed, if there's one thing you're confident in, it's your skill in lying. His initial reaction shows that he fully believed it, so what made him strongly doubt it?

The wind, or the anemo element specifically. Your connection to Teyvat as the creator must have let it alert him to your hidden feelings. He must believe that you feel sad rather than you being a liar. After all, lying would have made him mad.

You brainstorm what kind of story you can tell Kazuha as you wait for him to come back. The rolling waves, occasional jumping fish, and cawing birds are good background noise to help. The sight of a small island jolts you out of your head.

The sound of Kazuha's signature skill is perfectly timed as you turn back to see him land smoothly on the wood. Before he can speak and try to address your earlier mood, you speak first.

"That island Beidou mentioned is getting close. Should we alert her now or wait?" You point at the land that the Alcor is steadily getting closer to with an easy smile.

Kazuha frowns a little at the sight of it, it turns into a soft smile as he stretches his hands out to you.

"You're correct, we should tell her now. The landing will be a bit rough so it's best for you to be on the deck rather than up here. If you don't mind, I'll help you back down."

"Not a problem." Your words are accompanied by a beaming smile as your hand is placed in his. Swiftly he picks you up and holds you firmly in his arms.

"Which way would you perfer? The fast drop or a gradual landing?" He stands on the railing without faltering as he smiles at you.

"The fast drop, I trust that you will land as smoothly as you speak." The words you speak have a teasing note as you tighten your grip on him.

"Then I will not disappoint."

Instead of jumping off while facing the ground like you expected, he turns around so his back faces the drop. He starts falling backwards as you gasp in surprise.

Unlike the first time Kazuha held you, you made sure to keep your eyes open. Your stomach lurched as the air rushed past you. All too soon Kazuha righted his body and used his skill to land on the deck.

You're set down gently as he keeps hold of your hands to steady you. Eyes scrunched up in joy an airy giggle leaves you.

"You're the best rollercoaster I've ever been on."

"What's a rollercoaster?"

"I don't know, what is a rollercoaster?"

Your serious and confusing response makes Kazuha blink in confusion before Beidou comes up behind him.

"You both came down a lot sooner than I thought. Has the island been spotted already?"

"Yes, it has. It's around-" You zone off when Kazuha starts telling Beidou all the details on where the island is and how close it is to the ship. You needed to conserve any and all mental energy to keeping yourself alive, information like this would hinder you more than anything.

That's exactly why you only sat on a crate out of everyone's way as they ran around preparing to briefly dock at the island. If you are lucky, Kazuha might even forget whatever he planned to ask you.

The ship stops at the island and the board is put down. You watch in vague confusion as none of the crewmembers move to leave. Weren't they supposed to pick up some things from the island?

The sight of a very familar panda boarding the ship with a large bag makes you sit up straighter. Guoba, the usually silent bear happily put the bag down on the deck before catching sight of you.

He freezes at the sight of you as his eyes go wide. Feeling a bit worried that he might react like Ei, you wave at him trying to keep your heart under control. You have no clue how this secretly ancient god would react to you!

Guoba rushed towards you as he jumped up in down in what seemed like joy. Little hums and trills of happiness escaped him as you relaxed at his positive reaction. It would seem that he recognizes you as the creator. Too bad he can't talk and actually tell everyone.

Smiling you offer your hand to Guoba as he places his paws in it with childlike delight.

"Hello, you must be Guoba. You used to be the stove God right? A pleasure to meet you, I'm Y/N. I'm currently the creator's oracle."

He tilts his head in confusion. It must be weird to him that the creator is referring to themselves as someone other than the creator. Hopefully, his reduced mental capacity will not let him interfere and accidentally rat you out.

"Guoba, there you are! There's still a few bags left, please help me get the last ones."

Xiangling comes onto the ship holding two bags with a worried expression. Guoba looks at you and then at Xiangling with a conflicted expression.

You release Guoba's paws and gesture off the boat with your head, silently telling Guoba to help Xiangling out. With one last "Lalala~" he hopped off the boat.

The cheerful vision holder that has a literal god as a companion, sets the bags down and apologizes with a sheepish smile.

"I'm so sorry for Guoba's action! He usually isn't that physical with people. My name is Xiangling and I'm a chef from Liyue."

"It's not a problem, Gouda was endearing rather than off-putting. I'm glad he's that friendly with me. You can call me Y/N."

Another woman boards the ship holding three bags with Guoba following after her with the last bag. A tall stature, darker skin, many spikes and a large guitar-claymore fusion helps you easily identitfy Xinyan.

She was taller than her game model looked like and her features were sharper too. Her character details said that she was taller than most girls her age so it makes sense that you can see her accurate height.

But it still made no sense that people are so afraid of her. People would move out of lines she joins which was pretty fucking stupid. Maybe it's cause she lives in Liyue and you're from Earth but she looked more badass than scary.

Xinyan must have felt your gaze as she turns to look in your direction with confusion. She sets down all three bags and Xiangling hurriedly opens them. With a friendly smile Xinyan walks over to you.

"Are you a special guest of some sort? I'm Xinyan, the only rock 'n' roll musician in Liyue. Beidou doesn't usually pick people up unless they're something special."

Hopping off the crate you hold your hand out with a grin. Xiangling may be looking into the bag but you can tell she's listening. Both pyro users are extremely friendly and not likely to suspect you of anything bad. It's best to get on their good side which thankfully isn't hard.

"I'm Y/N, an oracle for the creator. As for special guest, it's more like I'm the Kamisato Clan's chosen guest. It's great to meet you Xinyan."

As Xinyan shakes your hand Xiangling's head whips around to face you both at light speed.

"You're an oracle for the creator?!" She says loudly as she comes to you with sparkling eyes. Should you be concerned?

"Does that mean the creator can taste food through you? I've always offered food to the shrines and temples but it's not like I can get any feedback through that method. But if the creator can taste through you then you can tell me what they think of my food!"

Xiangling is steadily growing closer to your face with each word until her expectant eyes are almost all you can see. Xinyan watches the scene affectionately before scrambling to close the bags that has ingredients almost falling out of it.

Said ingredients are stuff that you don't recognize at all. Or they are a completely new variation of regular ingredients like hot pink Jueyun Chili peppers. It makes you a little scared to eat her food.

But at the same time, Xiangling was a famous chef. A true prodigy in culinary arts. She wouldn't want to feed the creator bad or sickening food. Her food is just a little dangerous, like Russian roulette.

In the end, your stomach won as you clap your hands together with glee.

"You're correct, the creator and I are connected in ways that acolytes are not. That includes sharing certain senses. I've heard before that you are one of the best chefs and even won a competition! Both I and the creator have high expectations."

Your words are said with so much enthusiasm that it couldn't have been mistaken for someone trying to subtly put pressure to be served the best food.

Xiangling hops from one foot to the other in elation as Guoba cheers with her. She's already grabbing a bag and a few other worrying substances from the other bags as she speaks.

"I'll be sure to serve up the best food! I'll start with something familiar then move on to the more risky dishes and finally end with my newest creation!"

Oh boy, you were in trouble.

You could only wave briefly to Xiangling before she speeds away to what you believe to be the kitchen. If you get sick then at least you have an excuse to avoid Kazuha and Beidou.

"All of Xiangling's dishes are rock 'n' roll! They might look or smell like something that'll set you ablaze but I promise it's full of nothin' but burning passion!"

Xinyan's accent graces your ears as you look at her with a nervous smile.

"Oh, I'm not doubting her ability. It's my own taste buds that I'm worried about. Inazuma has a lot of mild tasting dishes so the signature spices that Xiangling uses might be a shock for my mouth."

"Even so, you seem mighty open to trying it. That's a good thing of course, prejudice only slows life's roll."

The shifting of the fleet makes you stumble a little and grip the railing. Xinyan who has experience with sailing only leans back on edge of it with a content sigh.

Prejudice. It's the core concept that Xinyan fights against using rock 'n' roll which is viewed as resistance. In a way, you were also in this spot due to prejudice. After all, if everyone didn't have certain expectations of the creator or weren't so guarded against features that resemble the creator. You wouldn't be in this mess.

"Hey Xinyan? Do you mind me asking a question?"

"Not a problem, go ahead."

"What made you love rock 'n' roll? And I don't mean as a music genre but as a concept."

"That's a bit of a long story but I'll try to narrow it down. You'll need some background information first. I suggest you get comfortable."

You're quick to shift into a more relaxed stance beside her. Her story and words will be a very welcome distraction from the thought of dealing with whatever Liyue will throw at you.

"You hear my accent? It's because I grew up in the poorer countryside and growing up I faced a lot of people that weren't accepting of me. My height, face, skills, and even my skin color at times. There was a time where I wanted to give up and just accept that I wasn't what people wanted me to be. That the real me just wouldn't be accepted."

Her lips were set in a line as she spoke. Hands drumming on the railing to a tune you didn't recognize.

"But I absolutely hate losing so I visited Fontaine. I hoped that I could learn some tricks to finally master traditional feminine arts, instead I found something better. I found rock 'n' roll. Just that one concert I went to changed my life, the spirit of resistance spoke to like nothing else!"

You stayed quiet as she started to speak excitedly. A little seed of envy sprouted in your heart but you were quick to stomp on it to death.

"It really helped put everything in perspective. I didn't need to change who I was, things I can't control or my own opinions to make others happy. The creator must surely approve of it too since I got my vision through it too. At this point I've mastered everything people said I wouldn't and I'm far happier than I would have been if I gave up."

Her eyes finally meet yours as she smiles fearlessly. You match her expression with one more tame but just as happy.

If your life wasn't in danger, perhaps you would be taking a route similar to hers. Simply living without apology and doing your best to live every day to the fullest. But that wasn't possible when your life is on the line like this. Still it was nice to dream.

"It's really amazing Xinyan. You should be proud of who you are today because there's a lot more people than you think that are just as proud. So don't burn out until there's nothing left to set aflame, okay?"

Those words aren't just meant for her, it was for you too. 'Don't stop trying to find a life here until every option is exhausted.' Reckless? Yes, but you didn't want to die like cattle in this life. Not after living like a dog back on Earth.

"Oh that's perfect! That's the best inspiration I've gotten through this whole trip. I need to go write this down and tune my guitar before the big show today. I'll see ya later Y/N!"

Xinyan was already rushing off to who knows where before you get a word out. The ship wouldn't get to Liyue till early tomorrow morning. What show was she talking about?

You sat at the table in the kitchen as Xiangling placed dish upon dish on the table till no empty space was left. Some looked normal even recognizable like black-back perch stew, a specialty of hers. Other's looked almost frightening like the strange hot pink stir fry with neon green fish and blueish veggies.

"From left to right is my most confident work to my latest dishes. I hope you enjoy them all."

Xiangling looked so happy and expectant that you didn't have it in you to back out. With a gentle smile you start eating the stew.

Was this heaven? Was it possible to taste heaven?

You gobble down the black-back perch stew like it was your last meal. You swallow the last piece before giving your review.

"The creator is very happy that your most famous original dish is this one. It's truly the best combination of Li and Yue cuisine."

You weren't technically lying, your words are more comparable to speaking in third person.

With more confidence you begin eating the dishes systematically while giving what you hope is valid criticism.

"The flavor of silk flowers is a little too strong in this one."

"This blue violet grass you got is good initially but the aftertaste sucks."

"The shellfish you caught requires more seasoning."

You actually managed to eat all the dishes and not throw up. Was this a testament to Xiangling's cooking skills or your iron stomach from all sorts of crap you ate on Earth?

"Thank you so much Y/N! It's always been my childhood dream to offer my dishes to the creator themself! I've written down everything you said so that I don't forget and can always look back on it."

She pats the notebook with a smug smile at your mostly positive feedback that makes you laugh.

"Thank you too Xiangling. Your dishes were some of the best I've ever tasted. Whenever the creator comes, I'm sure they'll want you as their chef."

She blush at your compliment and turns away in embarrassment. Guoba seems to be sharing her joy judging by the happy "Lalala~" he lets out.

You reach out and pet his head. His eyes close and he stands perfectly still. This had to be the most adorable thing, he was so soft!

The clinking of a plate on the table snaps you and Guoba out of your daze. A bowl of food and meat smelling vaguely of pork catches your attention.

"I didn't forget you Guoba. Thank you for waiting and not stealing Y/N's food. So I made you your favorite!"

You move your hand off his head and he happily starts eating his food. What you thought was pork looks different. Was this another animal you didn't recognize?

"What meat is that? I thought it was pork but the texture looks really different. I've never seen it before."

"Oh, it's human flesh. I did have some leftover internal organs but I put those to freeze for him to eat at dinner."

You barely hold back the urge to throw up.

There were always cannibalism jokes about Xiangling with her "Help! My dinner is attacking me!" line but this was so much more. She actually killed, cooked, and fed Guoba a human being. And so casually said it too!

Did she use that meat in your food too? Did any of your dishes have human remains in them? Your grip on the table tightens a little. She's still watching Guoba as she belatedly continues.

"I only feed animals human meat. I wouldn't want to be a cannibal or make anyone else one either. But it's such a waste to leave meat like that to rot. Might as well feed it to someone right? One of my signature traits is to make dishes out of any ingredients after all."

Should you be relieved or worried? This must be common knowledge or even common practice by how easily she told you. Bile pools in your mouth as you ask her.

"How did you get the meat? Did you just find the body or did you have to kill someone?"

"I'm not fond of killing and I try to avoid it outside of when the creator controls me. But when people speak about the creator like they don't matter or don't exist, it really bothers me. I end up saying something, it becomes an argument and then it gets messy. Under law it's okay to kill someone who disgraces the creator so I don't get in trouble but it would be a waste to just leave them there."

That's a literal law? Was it just in Liyue or was it in every nation? If you were too careless when you spoke to Ayaka that day, she could have killed you and no one would blame her.

You hum and nod, not trusting that your voice could be steady just yet. Guoba finishes his bowl and Xiangling takes it to the sink.

Laying your head on the table, you focus on relaxing your stomach.

That law was probably created for more morally correct situations like someone blatantly badmouthing the creator. And there's a large chance they wouldn't immediately believe the accusations. But Xiangling and Ayaka are both well known and liked acolytes. The court would totally believe them.

Ayaka probably didn't kill you because she wanted Ayato to make the final decision. Plus killing you would reflect badly on her as the Shirasagi Himegimi. With this new knowledge of Xiangling's cooking ingredients you had be more careful around her.

You lift your head a little at the sound of a guitar. Was that singing?

Quietly you excuse yourself from the kitchen and climb the stairs to the main deck. There you saw the crew gathered around what looked like Xinyan in the middle.

She was strumming her guitar on a makeshift stage as she started to sing. Her vision would glow at brief intervals as her movements were accompanied by spurts of fire.

Was it really safe for a destructive fire vision holder to use it on a wooden boat? You were no professional but wasn't this an extreme fire hazard?!

A little more frantic you start scanning the boat looking for Beidou. Surely she would either reassure you with facts or put a stop to it.

At the lack of the captain you climb to the higher deck as the music gets louder and louder. Flames were now constantly swirling around her as the crew cheered along.

You finally spot Beidou watching the ocean as the waves roll harder then they were this morning.

"Captain Beidou! I hope I'm not bothering you but I'm just a little concerned. Is it safe for fire to be so open on the ship? Xinyan's concerts never hurt any of the fans but the stages and area tend to be casualties right?"

She looks back at you with her good eye and smiles knowingly. She hangs her arm around your shoulder and spins you towards the stairs leading to the main deck.

"You shouldn't be so worried about that. As captain, I'll always make sure you're safe. So go on! Have fun! Join the crowd and let go of your worries."

That's only making you more worried.

You feel a bit helpless as she walks down the stairs with you. The sky is almost completely covered with grey clouds. Xinyan's singing rings throughout your ears perfectly in tune with the music.

Xiangling leaves the kitchen and Beidou releases you in favor of talking to the cheerful chef. Looking up you can see the faint form of Kazuha at the lookout. The loud music must be bothering his sensitive hearing.

The air is starting to feel damp and hot as the flames grow bigger and spread farther. Despite your worries, it's almost hypnotic to watch Xinyan perform with such ferocity.

It's the tug of your clothing that snaps you out of your daze. Looking down you see Guoba looking strangely worried. He releases your clothes in favor of holding your hand and brings you closer to the edge of the boat.

With this new view you can see the harsh waves and crashing tides. The ship is swaying and each shift makes you hold onto the railing tighter. A long, huge and dark figure below the ocean makes your breath stop as fear bites your soul.

With uncharacteristic terror and alarm you whip your head around to where you last saw Beidou.

"Somethings coming!-"

Your warning is just a tad too late as a loud roar overpowers your words.

Unable to mask your horror you turn your head back to the ocean as a large shadow overtakes you. A huge sea monster rises from the ocean as the water falls off it with a loud splat.

Four eyes peer down at the ship and seem to lock eyes with you. The twin heads point up at the sky as another booming roar rings through the sky.

This took really long huh? I was just getting super busy plus with family stuff. But that's boring! I also noticed that I write different depending on my location, weird but it makes sense. Isn't it strange how Thoma never visits Mondstadt? Ayato and Ayaka would totally let him have a week off to go visit but he doesn't. I guess you can say that I headcanon that Thoma has a fear of traveling large bodies of water like that. After nearly dying on his way from Monstadt to Inazuma, he can't handle that kind of journey well anymore. Which is why he would need saving.

And I should totally clarify about Xinyan for those who saw her cutscene in the second Golden Apple Archipelago. Starting with setting, it's canon that she has a accent and grew up poor. But in the cutscene, she's in Liyue's city. That can be easily brushed off as visiting. But she also sees a man using an instrument there and gains her love for music. Except she's the first and only rock 'n' roll musician in Liyue so that means she got her love for rock 'n' roll somewhere else. So the backstory I made with her could totally fit the canon. The next chapter has a lot of lore and more action. (that ofc includes lying) Also a lot of people haven't been popping up when I try to tag them but I hope those in the taglist have been getting notifs. I'm gonna edit this whole thing in the morning and post it around then. (maybe) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37,

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the-possum-writes · 1 year

Note

You may have gotten a request like this already so please ignore it if you have!

I really enjoy your works so far and I'd like to request the nsfw alphabet with Marshall Lee if that's something you'd like to do! Gender neutral or afab anatomy if that's okay but I really don't mind if you keep it fully gender neutral!

I hope this request finds you well and happy! Thank you for your time to read this ask and for sharing your work, it's very enjoyable to read! (It also helps that I adore possums hehe)

[Marshall Lee NS/FW Alphabet]

Tags: NS/FW, mentions of voyeurism, hcs, dirty alphabet

A/n: Thanks for requesting! Ya'll eating good tonight-! This is for the AT version of Marshall, the F&C Marshall would probs have some differences without the whole vampire thing.

A = Aftercare

Marshall doesn't need sleep so he'll help you clean up asap and lay in bed with you so his low body temperature can help ya cool off, he would also sing you to sleep in compensation if he went too rough on you.

B = Body part

Regarding his partner's, he's fond of your chest. He doesn't breathe so he likes seeing it rise and fall whenever you're panting, and enjoys listening to your heartbeat during cuddle sessions.

As for his body, he likes every aspect of it but if he had to choose it would probably be his eyes. They're the first thing someone sees when he's lurking in the dark.

C= Cum

Slick like glue, and lacks any kind of odor or taste (I guess it's because he's a supernatural creature). He doesn't produce an exaggerated amount of cum in a single shot but he's determined enough to fill you up until it's sliding down your thigh, no matter how many rounds it takes.

D= Dirty Secret

Marshall snuck into your house once cause he wanted to gonna prank you by hiding your toothbrush and other stuff but he accidentally floated in on you in a private time and didn't leave until you finished. Nowadays he knocks before visiting you, but there are times where he touched himself to that memory.

E= Experience

Marshall has been around for thousand years, he knows his likes and dislikes regarding stuff done to him, and what he likes in a partner. He's confident in his performance as well, he has skill and learns fast, he knows that he'll find and exploit your weak points that'll have you sobbing in a good way.

F= Favourite Position

The dude can fly, he likes having you cowgirl (or reverse cowgirl) style while on mid air even though you've told him how dangerous it is.

G= Goofy

Though he gets heavily feral most of the time Marshall is a versatile man who can still crack a laugh even at the most heated times, if he's feeling playful and is on a full teasing rampage he'd use wordplay/puns that depend on the location you two are at.

H= Hair

Marshall is well trimmed but not fully shaved, his pubes are just as dark and wavy as his hair. However, sometimes he'd occasionally try to do funny patterns and would walk out of the bathroom bare ass naked and ask. "Does this look like a bat to you?"

I= Intimacy

Okay so we all know Marshall portrays himself as the residential bad boy and everyone buys it, but in reality he keeps his relationships at an arms length since he's lost people close to him. The guy craves intimacy and it's evident in the small affectionate gestures during sex like how he intertwineds his fingers in your hands, and after sex, he's got his legs tangled in yours, plays with your hair and rests his head on your beating chest.

J= Jack Off

In the early years of vampire hunting he couldn't allow himself a single moment of vulnerability even if his hormones were getting the best of him, but in current times in Aaa where he isn't always on guard he wanks it on occasion here and there when he's lacking company. Once he starts dating you he can't help but stoke himself in front of you when you touch yourself for him.

K= Kink

Pray/Predator play:

He loves playing the part so much. On a full moon he will give you a 10 minute headstart to let you run loose through the woods in that white transparent nightgown he likes so much (fits your role as the helpless victim) as he shape shifts into a wolf or a giant bat and hunts you down by the scent of your arousal alone.

Size difference:

Okay hear me out on this- The guy can shape shift, it would be impossible that he wouldn't develop a knack out of it (especially with the prey/predator thing) when he's near you. He gets a thrill out of it when he's in his bat form, slowly diving you down on his shaft until your thighs come in contact with his fur.

Blood kink:

At first he wasn't interested since he had enough fighting those bloodsuckers (and because it's an obvious thing for him to have). So everyday he fought the blood kink allegations but after years of denying it, its become a new curiosity. He doesn't need to drink the stuff to survive but there's something euphoric about yours that tastes better than any shade of crimson, he'd avoid your neck the first few times but would obtain it from you inner thigh, it's like biting into a lovely jelly donut.

Voyeurism:

It's rude to spy on others but Marshall is well known to watch over others regardless if they're aware of it or not, you'd learn it the hard way when he caught sight of you touching yourself in your private time. In recent times you purposely masturbate in front of him as he sits back in a comfy seat but only after kicking his ass for being a creep.

Exhibitionism: He doesn't mind taking things in a public space like a bathroom stall or just outside a party, he already has his initials marked all over Aaa so a quickie is just another way to mark his place as his.

Praise kink: can't get enough when hearing you say how much you love him, how good he feels inside you or the sensation of his mouth all over you.

L= Location

Anywhere, anytime. The only place he refuses to go is the Nightosphere cause his mom has eyes and ear everywhere and those pesky demons would rattle him out and before he know it his mom is asking for grandchildren.

M= Motivation

It takes so little to rile him up but the fastest way is when you're wearing on of his band shirts.

N= NO

Alright hot take. Although he jokes around with it sometimes; Marshall refuses to actually bite your neck with his fangs. Sure he'll nibble on your neck and bite your shoulder but his fangs never really pierce the skin of your jugular, it brings bad memories of his own forceful transformation and how it made him feel.

O= Oral

Appreciates anyone who's brave enough to let his teeth near their privates.

P= Pace

He goes rough and fast, he knows he gets too carried away but he forgets it right away when he sees you enjoy it as much as he does.

Q= Quickie

Doesn't mind them.

R= Risk

Definitely a risk taker. There's many ways to turn him on and he'd love to share them with you, his safe word is probably something like batshit or fries.

S= Stamia

Impecable. Unless you're a supernatural creature you can't match up with his subhuman self.

T= Toy

Marshall likes them both on himself and on his partner, he likes the dildo varities in particular (when he needs to prepare you for his bat form) and how crazy some designs can get.

U= Unfair

Ultimate tease, if you start taunting Marshall he's gonna return it in an instant. Doesn't care if you're out in public he'll get handsy with you as punishment, and dear glob have mercy on you in the bedroom cause he'd edge that bratty attitude out of you.

V= Volume

He isn't as vocal compared to you when he takes the lead, he would mostly let out an occasional hiss or groan intertwined with his dirty talk or teasing. Buuut, if he's the one on the receiving end he'll cry, whine and moan like a bish.

W= Wild Card

If it wasn't because of his vampire regeneration abilities he'd get dick piercings.

X= x-ray

A nice 9 inches long with a slight curve upwards, he's long but a bit on the slender side like most of his body, it's color is just as pale too but halfway it leads to a small dark gray tip.

Y= Yearning

High libido, watch out. Although he doesn't need to eat or sleep he can still feel lust and hunger which become stronger the longer his needs go unfulfilled.

Z= Zzz

He doesn't really sleep much nor does he get exhausted easily, if he's with a mortal partner he'd pretend to sleep just to keep you company or sing/ play a lullaby on his guitar for you.

#adventure time x reader #Marshall lee #marshall lee x reader #reader insert #nsft alphabet #I'll have to look up more positions cause I was completely dry on that part tbh lol

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inklore · 1 year

Text

sweet serial killer

premise: it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you or you're killing someone else. you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked.

pairing: ethan landry x (f)reader

word count: 1.7k

contents: piv, more psychotic feelings than anything, choking, mentions of knife and blood play, murders, dirty talk, stalking, au since this is not in correlation with the film, pain kink.

note: this is my first time writing for this little fucked up curly q even though i have drafts upon drafts of ideas for him, which i'll gladly write if ya'll want more.

haunted hoedown day three.

You should be surprised.

You should be pissed.

Scared.

Running for your life.

Something. Anything.

Other than standing in front of a murderer, your knuckles curling around the edge of the dresser your ass is pushed against. Your excelled heart rate pounding in your ears the closer he steps to you, leaving no room for you to breathe without touching him. Without smelling him. Stealing each other's air.

Your eyes should be mapping out a quick exit. Coming up with a plan to get the hell out of here. Not looking into his. Not seeing the deep hue of nothingness that is abnormal to see in a sane person's eyes. The dilation of pupils letting you know that he’s got a plan either way. No matter how you take what he just told you.

“I’m ghostface.”

The darkness in his eyes tells you you can run, but you won’t get far. You can tell someone, but we both know you won’t because I see you.

It’s why you haven’t moved. Why an escape is the last thing on your mind. Because your eyes are casting that same darkness right back at him.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His words are like a fire engulfing you, more dangerous than the performance of normality you constantly put on. The sweet, rich girl whose parents gave her a free ride to college, who dote on her like a prized show pony because she’s the perfect child—the perfect daughter.

The one thing in their lives they didn’t screw up.

Being born screwed up and hiding it well, no fault of their own.

Known psychopaths rarely get what they want. They might, for a little while. But the lavishes never last. There's always more you need, more you want. And there are only so many people in this world who will give you what you want out of fear.

Fear leads to trouble. Fear leads to getting caught. Turned in. Turned upon.

Hidden psychopaths, however, have an advantage. A perfected way of being that makes them seem like the nicest people you’ve ever met. The person you can run to. Trust. Count on. The person you wish you could be.

That’s how you get what you want.

That’s how you make the high of deceiving, hurting, and killing last.

And if rich parents who like to hire nannies have taught you anything, it's that it is very easy to pretend. To perfect this little act. To be perceived as loving and being able to love when really all you want to do is gouge the person next to you’s eyes out.

You have a system. A routine. You never let your crown slip. You never let anyone see you for what you truly are. You’d lose everything. Lavishes gone. That control you have gone.

You didn’t care about being loved or feared.

Feelings meant nothing to you.

But watching the emotions of pain enacted on someone's face when you caused it? Nothing compared to it.

Besides, maybe the way Ethan is looking at you right now.

The look someone gets when they look into a mirror and like the monster they see looking back at them.

Part of you should have known. Should have seen this coming with the way his eyes were always already on yours when you looked his way in class. Or that night you caught him following you around campus, but you pretended you didn’t see him—much like the night he caught you red handed, literally, with blood staining your nails, and your pre-rehearsed explanation only making his eyes grow wider and fill with darkness, he quickly smiled away.

And the nail that should have been pounded into the coffin when your roommate got attacked and all Ghostface did was wave his shiny little knife in your face, a gloved hand around your throat, and then disappeared down the fire escape. And the next day, when everyone was making your skin crawl from sympathy hugs and the fake tears that were glossing your eyes, Ethan had only given you dark looks from across the courtyard.

Brows low and casting a shadow over his eyes in class.

You should have known then.

You’re usually so much better at reading people, trying to understand their normality to copy it. Use it against them.

But Ethan wasn’t normal. That much was clear.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” he chuckles under his breath as he shrugs, “this perfect little daddies girl, the girl everyone wants to sleep with, is crazy.” A slow smile lifts the corner of his mouth, “so many nights I’ve followed you, and you’ve kept your facade going. Even when no one was watching. Until the night I ran into you in the hall, the night I knew. I could see it written all over your face.”

He leans in closer, his curls ghosting over your forehead. His voice a whisper, “but you’re not very good at hiding your messes, so I did it for you. I saved us both the trouble. You getting caught and me—well, Ghostface—taking credit for a kill so messy. And when I gave you my little present, that pesky roommate of yours gone, I could see it in your eyes. That trust. That you would have been happy with me either killing you or fucking you.”

Your breath halts in your lungs, burning the back of your throat from the noise you let out when Ethan grabs it. Squeezing just enough to make it hard to swallow and to make that growing hunger move past your belly and throb between your legs.

“Which is it now? Do you want to be fucked or killed?”

Your lips try to form words, but the hand around your throat mingled with that perfected crown falling and shattering to the ground has your darkness making itself known more than just in the fire that’s so clearly burning in your eyes—the gasps that sound like weak whimpers, the warmth of your body against Ethan’s, the way your insides feel like molten lava when you consider both objectives—your mind is clouded with a pleasure you’ve only ever felt when you’ve watched the agony of pain fade out someone's light completely, your nails smelling of copper for days after.

If Ethan pulled out his knife right now and put it to your throat, you’d come before he made the first cut.

And as he says, “if I went downstairs and grabbed one of your fans and brought them up here and slit their throat for you, would you like that? Would you prefer that instead?”

Your body shivers from his words, from the free hand that's running down your hip to the apex of your inner thigh—your sorry excuse for a skirt giving him more than enough access to press his thumb to the growing wet patch on the outside of your underwear. The pad of his finger pressing in and adding just the right amount of pressure to your aching clit to make your eyes flutter.

“Or is it your insides you want me to see?”

The involuntary whimper of his name, the motion of your hips trying to rub yourself against the miniscule touch between your legs, his last words, and the accuracy of it all are the finality for both of you.

The thing that finally lets you both know that it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you, or you’re killing someone else, or blood is spilt for you, you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked.

So when his lips come down on yours, it’s hard and rough and lacking any sort of passion.

Any sort of fake pleasure you’ve always had to give to past lovers.

There's nothing fake about the heat inside of you. The sauna of depravity that Ethan is pulling out of you—devouring it with bloody teeth that match your own hunger. Your own fucked up way of getting off. Of feeling something.

When Ethan starts to descend to his knees, leaving a trail of bites along your neck that feel too hard and imprinting to not be a personal vendetta of anger, of want, of a need to make you feel pain, to want it from him—you stop him.

Yanking his curls so hard, he’s hissing against your mouth. Your fingers move in a flash of pushed away fabric, buttons, and zippers to free him and wrap a hand around his cock. Giving it a couple pumps. Watching the way his mouth parts and his lips curl in pleasure when you tighten and twist around the head.

Wordlessly telling him what you want when you turn away, pushing your ass out for him as you bend yourself over the dresser.

If you didn’t have him inside of you one way or another, you know you’d lose your patience. Know that darkness would simmer away into something worse, something that would leave the both of you in more agony than pleasure.

You needed him.

And by the sound Ethan makes when he thrusts into you—hard, without warning—you know he needs you too. Know that he’s probably gotten off to the thought of you bloodied and underneath him, his knife pressed to your throat, threatening to make you bleed if you didn’t let him come inside of you. If you didn’t let him lick the wounds he wants to create against your flesh.

The pace he sets is rough.

Harsh against your body that rubs against the rigid edge of the dresser. His nails dig into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, as he grabs the back of your neck, digging his fingers into your skull.

The palm that snakes around to your neck pulls you up and against his front, putting your body at a new angle that has your muscles stretching in pain and making your eyes roll back. The noises of pleasure and pain like a fucked up hymn.

“That night I was in your apartment, your life in my hands, do you know how much self control I had to have to not slice this pretty throat?” His teeth graze against the skin below your ear, his own groans and hitches of breath making you feel lightheaded. “To not make you bleed and spread it against my cock and make you jerk it off. Make you use your mouth to lick me clean.”

It’s those words and the lack of air his palm is allowing your lungs to intake that make you come. That has the gasp falling from your mouth sounding like something dying, something begging for life.

Portraying the opposite of his words. Of why you’re coming. Of why the rush has you going lax against him and smiling.

#ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #scream smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ghostface smut #ethan landry one shot #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fic #hauntedhoedown

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

Text

no time to die | c16 | part two

Description: After a messy breakup with Charles Leclerc. You resort to feuding with him online. In where, he hates your guts.

Pairing: charles leclerc/actress!reader

part one | part three

(ONE YEAR LATER)

YNMakesItSparkle: New Years Day 🌙 announcing my first ever single. I know that it's been a while since ya'll heard my voice. I remember singing with Miley and Selena down in Disney. So glad to be back inside the studio! 💜

129 comments 1,292,180 likes

watchasay29: Is this about Charles?

taylorswift: I'm so excited for this 💙💙💙💙

selenagomez: Patiently seated.

charlesuniversewags: this is about charles 100% idk if she's gonna make him seem like the bad guy.

(IBIZA, SPAIN 2023)

"Charles, let's get married - let's settle down." you continued speaking, following him around the casita with a glass filled with Moscato. Ever since his incident in Formula One, you haven't stopped thinking about your future together. You couldn't sleep at night knowing that there was a possibility that everything you built would come crumbling down.

A small sigh escapes his mouth; marriage was the least of his concern. He still wanted to win a championship - he wanted to be something that you could boast around your upper-echelon friends. "I'm not ready, bebe." he sighed, taking another sip of his merlot.

You were stark contrasts of each other.

He liked everything that tasted bitter - and you adored sweet. He was darkness, rest in the middle of paradise and you were light. You complimented each other properly - but now you weren't sure.

"I-I know, but please - think about it." you stuttered. You always dreamed about marriage, not in a dreamy fairytale way but in a way that included living in happiness with the person that you adored. "I'm not sure if I want to get married, ever." he scoffed, placing his glass loudly on the countertop.

"Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other. "Why?" he repeated your statement - finding the question to be tone deaf.

"All everyone talks about is you and how wonderful your projects are. The articles, they don't even call me by name - I'm just 'your boyfriend' - and what will happen after we get married? Will I be Y/N L/N's husband? When I've got all of these accomplishments to myself." he responded in a bitter tone - telling you that there was something bothering him.

"What do you mean?" your frown deepened, seeing fire underneath his eyes. Did he hate you all these years?

"I'm tired of being your shadow, that's what I mean." his voice softened, seeing your eyes blurry with tears. "You aren't my shadow - when I came into this relationship with you, I wasn't even an actress." you said to yourself, the truth quickly settling into you.

"- and maybe that's the problem. I don't need another person who's competing with my success, I need someone to comfort me in my races." he expressed his opinion, unable to understand that he was stampeding upon your own.

"I've done all of that, Charles."

"It's not enough!" his voice raised again, a storm brewing in his mind. A small chuckle escaped your lips - and you tried to keep your composure. 'Grace under pressure' you thought.

"You know what the truth is, Charles?" you grinned, reaching for your handbag on the chair beside you. "You feel emasculated because I'm better than you." you gritted your teeth, straightening your dress until it didn't have any wrinkles.

"You know I feel really bad because I came to this conversation seeing a future with you. But now I'm glad that you had another thing in mind." your eyes narrowed, quickly walking away and slamming the door to his apartment loudly.

YNMakesItSparkle: me and my favorite driver 💜

312 comments 1,912,129 likes

maxverstappen1: 💪🏽

carlossainz55: Hungary GP? - YNMakesItSparkle: Totally 💜

reyna219: YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

YNMakesItSparkle: Forever Ferrari 💜❤️

812 comments 1,231,100 likes

carlandouniverse2: this is enough confirmation 😭

wantingmeeee1: Are you back with Charles?

landonorris: Mclaren needs you here 😎 - YNMakesItSparkle: Really?

imsebastianstan: You didn't bring me? - YNMakesItSparkle: the airline had a no-hand-carry policy, really sorrrrryyy 😁

Charles could recognize you a mile away. His fingers could even feel the fabric that clung into your body - he missed you, and he knew that you deserved better. The pressure of not being a good enough driver was getting to him - forcing him to resort to look for something to blame. At first, it was his company - but when he saw your success - he chose to blame that.

But now after six-months of therapy, he could see properly. He could see that he was the problem. "I listened to your new song," he swiftly made his way towards you - a bottle of beer in his right hand. He missed you - but he couldn't entertain the thought of being with you again. He believed that he wasn't good enough for that.

"Did you like you like it?" you gazed up at him - staring deep into his eyes until he could feel himself leaning down to inhale more of your rosemary scent. "Amazing, and the chords were familiar." he raised an eyebrow - teasing you softly.

He'd be content with being friends.

"Sue me if you dare, Leclerc." you pouted, knowing that the chords to that song resembled something that he wrote for you a few years ago. "I won't - not when you made it sound better." he smiled, flicking a strand of your hair away from your face. "Really?" you began to ask.

Unable to deny the palpable chemistry between you.

"Why don't you play for us in the afterparty?" he offered, knowing that it would be held inside his home - and his piano needed a little dusting. "Sounds like a plan," you licked your lips, slowly moving away from him.

SELENA GOMEZ'S PRIVATE TWITTER

Don't get back with ur ex challenge, but you're fighting against @YNMakesItSparkle

YN'S PRIVATE TWITTER: STOPPPP

TAYLOR'S PRIVATE TWITTER: I'm going home because it's a losing game ;)

DANIEL RICCIARDO'S PRIVATE TWITTER: HELPP

@perihelioneclipse @hiraethrhapsody @omgsuperstarg @reidsworld @charles-eclair16 @ferraribabe @cl16gf @yourrrrrprefffffect @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @fdl305 @incoherenciass @sassyheroneckgiant @ietss @newlifeforus

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imaginesandbandfiction · 8 months

Text

Triad Part 8 — Reunited and it Feels So Good

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ya'll this part is good but the next one (which is only half finished) is imho the best one yet!!!!

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Azriel falls into your open, waiting arms, body wracking with full-force sobs. You stagger back but luckily Cassian is there to catch you. He wraps his arms around both of you and kicks the door shut with his foot before sliding to the floor.

After gently manhandling you into place, he’s got both of you balanced on his lap. Az buries his head into the crook of Cas’s neck and you rest your forehead in between Az’s shoulder blades, just above the spot where his wings connect to his back. You press him against Cas’s chest and focus on sending love and reassurance through the bond to strengthen it on Azriel’s side.

It’s okay, you murmur through the bond. You’re home, you’re safe.

We’re here, love, Cas adds, sending wave after wave of shimmering gold and red towards Az. His red mixes with Az’s blue and swirls with your purple until the three strands of magic braid together, becoming one again.

Az’s sobs taper off into soft gasps and he clutches Cas.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hoarse and quiet. His shadows swirl around the three of you as an extra layer of protection, keeping all of the love and magic contained in a tight ball in order to help heal their master’s mind faster.

“Oh, baby,” you mutter against his skin, wrapping your arms around him from behind to rub your hands in slow, lazy circles around his belly button.

“I shouldn’t have blocked you out. Not that much, I just… I was so scared.” Az’s voice breaks on the last word, the sobs lurking just under the surface threatening to come back out. Words tumble out of his mouth, a waterfall of apologies and regrets. “Things are getting so bad down there—I couldn’t let them get to you. I was…I would’ve stayed there as long as I had to, until I could be sure that you’d be safe.”

“Hey, hey, hey, shhh,” Cas shushes him.

“We didn’t know what would happen, either.” You say.

“You’re not mad at me?” Az asks, bright hazel eyes blinking up at Cas first, then turning to focus on you.

“We’ll never be mad at you for trying to protect us,” you assure him, voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss between Az’s shoulder blades.

“You’re ours,” Cassian growls. His possessiveness hits you like a blow to the head; suddenly, it’s like there’s a feral cat in your chest trying to claw its way to Azriel. You tighten your grip around his waist, pushing yourself flush to his back as Cas slams his lips against Az’s.

It’s instinctual, the way Az surges forward, his fight or flight mode easily activated after his recent mission. You try to channel some calm his way, and eventually it works because he’s able to pull himself out of that dominant headspace, melting against your chest as he gives himself over to Cas.

Cas grunts, reaching one arm around to tap against your ass. Combined with the disjointed images flashing through your mind from Cassian’s side of the bond, you get the hint and scramble off of his lap, tugging Azriel back with you.

Az whimpers at the loss of contact and tugs on the hairs at the nape of Cassian’s neck, beckoning him forward.

I’m yours, he says through the bond, sending all of his pent-up arousal along with it. You feel it course through your veins, curling your toes. Cas slips out from under Az and pushes on his chest until you’ve got a lap full of dark waves.

Using your fingers, you comb through Az’s tangled locks with your fingers, channeling a bit of healing magic out through your touch. He sinks further into your lap and you move to his shoulders, working out the knots surrounding his wings.

Cas coaxes Az’s leathers open, tearing the fabric of his undershirt to reveal the planes of his abs.

“Fuck, baby,” Cas groans, sliding his hips back and lowering his lips to the crook of Az’s neck, using soft bites and soothing sucks to coax a needy whine from deep in the Shadowsinger’s throat. It doesn’t take long for him to move lower, trailing kisses down the lean, muscled planes of Az’s stomach, letting his tongue dip into every groove.

When Cas’s nose brushes against the wiry hairs beneath Az’s belly button, Az’s back arches, subconsciously trying to guide Cas lower. Cas lifts his head to smirk at you as he pops open the buttons of Az’s pants one by one until they’re loose enough to shimmy down, freeing Az’s cock. It springs up, leaking against his stomach.

Kiss-bitten lips wrap around the tip and Az’s hands reach back to clamp around your thighs, fingernails dulled by your soft linen sleep pants.

“Fuck,” he whines as Cas slowly lowers his head until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark curls at the base of Az’s cock. Az squeezes his eyes shut, head tilting back as Cas lifts his hips off the floor. “‘M not gonna last.”

You trail your hands down his chest, grazing the pads of your fingers over his nipples, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

“It’s okay, babe. Just let us take care of you.”

With your lips sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck and Cas trying to fully swallow his dick, it doesn’t take long for Az to tense up and then fall back, eyes watering as he shoots his release down Cas’s throat.

There’s no trace of it when Cas lifts his head up and wipes the back of his hand across his satisfied smirk. Seeing Az fully relaxed with his head in your lap makes Cas’s heart clench, sending waves of love down the bond.

“C’mon, love,” he says, tugging on Az’s hands to help him up. Az’s eyes flutter open, staring up at Cas through a pleasure and exhaustion induced haze. You stand up, helping maneuver Az into a standing position, and head to the kitchen to make tea while Cas gets Az settled in the middle of the bed.

Armed with a tray of tea and pastries, you gently push the door open to reveal Az clinging to Cas, curled up on his side and tucked into the space between Cas’s arm and torso. Soft snores fill the room, making you giggle. With a wave of your hand, you send the tray to the bedside table, instructing your magic to keep the tea warm.

You wrap yourself around Az from behind, reaching your arm as far as it can go and making grabby hands at Cas. He chuckles and slides his free hand into yours, squeezing tightly.

“He’s home,” you breath, letting yourself melt into the mattress.

“Yeah,” Cas echoes, fondness shimmering in his eyes as he takes in the sight of his mates tucked safely next to him in bed. “Our boy is home.”

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638@hnyclover @anutellaa @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @queerqueenlynn @brujitafantomatico

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thegnomelord · 7 months

Note

Took me alotta courage to make it here so uh hi!

live laugh love for your writing it has me floored every time !! Thinking of being an anon that comes back every once in a while but I'm too terrified (help).

(feel free to ignore this) but imagine a goat!hybrid reader who's love language is head putting, they do it all the time with the team but super aggressively towards price the most- he a dragon hybrid takes it as a challenge for strength/initiating a mating ritual and it just ends up in them full on battling in the training room.

imagine one of the members notices that both price and goat!reader are missing to only find both of them stuck in the training room horns tangled in each other while theyre trying to pull their horns off of each other like idiots (imagine if it gets too bad they have to go to medical and a medic is like 'not this shit again' because it had happened way too often)

tehee anyways ill go back to fangirling in the dark- have a nice day bye bye

-terrified anon

No, no, don't be terrified, I genuinely love and live for ya'lls interactions even if I don't always have the ability to respond :Ddd

And your little blurb just gave me of the idea: you know how farmers put like pool noodles on their goats so they stop being little shits and headbutting ppl?

That. But on Price and Goat reader.

Like some poor base medic gets tired of your shit when they need to part you and Price again, so while you two are distract the medic tapes pool noodles to your horns. And keeps slapping your hands away when you try to get them off.

Since you two are smart enough not to mess with medics, you two end up sitting in the medbay side by side, both grumbling. Price's wing bumps you roughly, "This is your fault." He growls.

"My fault?" You ask, bumping your horns into him. "How is it my fault, you got your horns stuck in mine." Just as Price rears his head back to retaliate the medic curses you two out.

"Both of you out!" The medic snarls, forcing you out. Where you meet the rest of the team. Who see your new 'accessories'. You and Price are never living this shit down, Gaz and Soap take pictures and print them out, Ghost doesn't laugh but you know that fucker is smirking beneath his mask.

On the plus side, you now get to headbutt the rest of the team without worry of accidentally goring them :Ddd And if you 'accidentally' headbutt them in the groin, well, it's just bad luck ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #terrified anon #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x reader

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jungle-angel · 2 months

Text

My Heart Belongs To You: Part 2 (Doctor!Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Doctor Floyd are expecting your first child together and end up getting into some shenanigans after work hours, but it leads to a hell of a discovery

Warnings: Parenthood, pregnancy etc.

Notes: This one is also for @bradleybeachbabe Dahilng I know you're going through it right now but I hope this'll cheer you up

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts

You sat on the counter at the nurses' station in your dark navy blue scrubs, fanning yourself with the papers; relieved that your shift was over for the day, but pissed that even with the air conditioning going, you were still hotter than hell. You felt your little one kicking up a storm in your belly, rolling around and parking their little butt right where it shouldn't have been parked in the first place.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding little guy," you groaned.

"Yours too?" your friend Rachel chuckled.

"I literally have not stopped peeing since I got here, Rache" you answered. "I felt bad having to step out on Mrs. Cohen like that."

"Don't worry about it," Rachel told you. "She said to me that she's had six kids and it never gets any easier."

You laughed a little as Laverne reached behind her chair and handed you your metal flask. "Honey go on now and go get some ice from the machine," she told you. "I don't want ya'll croakin here before you have that baby."

"Oh thanks Laverne," Rachel laughed.

"You too you little imp," Laverne told her. "Go on now, GIT!!!"

You and Rachel both waddled your way over to the ice machine, the tiny balled chunks of ice clinking into your flasks before you both filled them with water.

You turned to see Bob and Jake making their way down the corridor, pulling their surgical masks off their faces and laughing with each other. You felt Bob's arms wrap right around you, slightly encumbered by your ever growing bump.

"How'd it go?" you asked him.

"Farley's gonna be fine," Bob answered. "Fire chief says he's putting him on desk duty for a little while but he should be ok in a few weeks."

You hummed happily, kissing your husband who was just as tired as you were.

"Oh hey, by the way Bob," Jake said, his arms still around your best friend. "Word on the street is that we, the staff of St. Mary's Medical Center, are the proud recipients of some new sonogram equipment."

"Seriously?"

Jake nodded.

You and Bob gave each other a look, one that the Daggers knew all too well. "Any chance Ice will let us try it out?" Bob asked.

"Already asked, he said we have the go ahead," Jake answered.

You, Bob, Jake and Rachel excitedly headed to the room and sure enough there it was. Bob closed the door as you laid down on the exam bed and dimmed the lights so that he could see.

"Bob you gonna do the honors?" Jake asked.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't let me," Bob answered.

You rolled your eyes. "There's no way I'd let you touch my belly either, Bagman," you chuckled as Bob began applying the cool gel to your skin.

A few clicks of the computer keyboard and up popped the image that you and Bob had been waiting to see, the little baby resting comfortably inside you. Bob moved the probe all around, his jaw falling open when he heart the rapid little heartbeat on the audio. A huge, broad smile appeared on his face when he saw your baby's little legs kicking.

"Alright, lets see if we can see anything else here," Bob muttered.

He pressed the probe in just a little bit as you, Rachel and Jake watched. "C'mon, spread those little legs for me," Bob mumbled.

"That's how we got ourselves into this in the first place," you chuckled.

Bob kept pressing the probe against your belly when at last he had found what he was looking for. His eyes went wide, his jaw falling almost the whole way open. "NO WAY!!!" he blurted out. "OH MY GOD!!!"

"What what is it?" you asked.

"Look, there.....right there," Bob said excitedly.

There it was, right in front of you as Bob traced it with his finger. You clamped a hand over your mouth to keep from shrieking.

Bob couldn't contain himself, every last shred of composure going straight out the door with him as he ran excitedly into the halls. "HOUSTON WE HAVE WEINER!!!!!" he shouted.

You sat up as a snorting laugh escaped you, wiping the remaining gel from your belly as Jake printed the pictures. "Is he ok?" Laverne asked, sticking her head in the door.

"I dunno Laverne," you answered. "I think Doctor Floyd has officially lost his marbles."

Bob's indiscernible hollers were heard halfway down the halls. Every now and again one of the other doctors or nurses came by to congratulate you and Bob before he came skidding back. You both collected your things and jumped in the truck with the air conditioning going at full blast for the ride home.

"I can't believe we're having a boy," Bob said excitedly. "I'm gonna have to call Mom and Dad and see if they can send all of my baby stuff."

"You sure?" you asked him.

"Sentimental value sweetpea," Bob said, gripping your hand. "Meemaw held onto all my stuffies, my books, blankies, all that stuff. I'm hoping little man will love it."

"He will," you said, kissing the back of his hand. "I know he will."

And sure enough you were right. Tiny little August Robert Floyd, made his appearance on July 4th, delivered right at home by your husband in your shared bedroom. You're overwhelmed with awe and joy at the sight of your husband with your tiny little baby in his arms, rocking him to sleep and helping you when Auggie needs to feed. Bob is so attentive with such a small little baby that it makes you secretly want another one, even though you know you'll have to wait at least two years for your body to recover.

But in that time, you and Bob live for Auggie, your precious little gift who carries both you and Bob within him.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #jake hangman seresin #dagger squad

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neoarchipelago · 2 years

Text

And they were Roommates (part 15)

A/N: I feel like i keep saying this but, all my chapters are long... SOO anyway. I don't know how i feel about this chapter, i'm torn between hating it and hating myself. Reviews are greatly appreciated and please be honest, don't try to make me happy, i truly want constructive critisim, so go on my babies, break my heart.

Also all lot of you seem to want to be my good girls or good boys. So yeah, sure, i'll be ya'lls mommy.

Yes. Hate me.

Warnings: Mentions of death, injury, 18+ content etc, just minors don't. F-Reader.

You sighed. Turning around in the black sheets. You could still smell his cologne in them. It's been two weeks. And you missed him like hell. You missed his voice, his touch, his eyes. You touched your neck. He had taken his dog tags with him. It felt like you lacked something now.

You groaned, throwing one of the pillows over your head. A knock rang in the room.

"Sparrow. Come on. Get up." Bishop called through the door.

You groaned again as a response.

"Come on!"

"Fine!"

You decided to get up. You'd spend the day in bed otherwise and you had to go to base. The squad had joined Los Vaqueros to hunt down the two cartel's bosses. You had stayed behind with bishop and Coyote to remotely track any Intel on the dark web. Aquila, Carkeys and Grim went on site to collect Intel and use drones and other equipment to help the squad.

You spent time in between the base and your house where Melissa and the team joined you as often as they could.

It took an hour at best to get to base with everyone. You had walked into the IT quarters with a coffee in hand.

"Rough morning?" Laswell asked.

"Where are they?" You asked.

She shook her head with a smile on her lips.

"They got into the city last night. They managed to get a few high ups of the cartel." Coyote explained.

"We managed to capture some conversations on a blank website. Two of their hackers were trying to throw false Intel to throw us off. But we managed to find their ID's which was much more interesting." Bishop added.

You nodded sitting down at your computer.

"Grim and Carkeys are following closely the squad with the drones and satellite images. We have made sure to protect those and are gate keeping them so they can't use those to track our soldiers."

You sighed of relief.

"I wouldn't have made it without you guys… thank you…" you said.

Bishop winked at you while coyote smiled.

"Aquila is making sure they're safe, keeping track of their equipments."

You took a deep breath.

"Alright back to work."

You got back to work, trying to focus as best as you could on it. The day passed by in a flash again. You felt like the anxiety would kill you at every new piece of information coming your way. At the end of the day you looked around the room full of screens.

"Hey sparrow, come here" Bishop called with a smile.

You walked up to her, blinking as you looked down at her screen.

"HEY THERE!" Soap's voice rang.

You felt a rush of adrenaline.

"We managed to create a remote link so we could video call with their base." Coyote explained, the freckled on her nose dancing as she smiled.

"Thank you… hey soap. How are you guys?" You asked.

"We are good here, we are getting closer to the target." Gaz answered.

You smiled at them. Price and Alejandro now appeared behind them. You noticed the blush on Coyote's face.

"Oh, look, it's our ladies!" Price called.

You chuckled as the girls giggled.

"Princesa!" Alejandro called.

As by magic, it immediately summoned him. HIM. Your breath caught in your front. Simon.

"My princess."

His voice was rough. Ghost was on edge. Alejandro raised his hands up, showing there was no sign of threat from him.

"Hey…" you greeted with a smile.

He nodded.

The conversation kept going, now Carkeys, Aquila and Grim showing up as well. It felt nice to be able to talk with everyone, but all you wanted was to tell him you missed him. You needed him. You wanted two minutes alone with him just to tell him you loved him again. It must have shown. Because the team did exactly that.

You were now sitting in front of the screen with only him. Only him.

"Hey…" you said again.

"Say it bunny."

You smirked.

"I miss you… want my Simon back."

He chuckled.

"Miss you too bunny." He said.

"Is everything ok on your side? You aren't hurt?" You worried.

"I'm fine. Don't worry darling. I'll be home soon. Alright?"

You nodded. You heard Price calling in the back, marking the end of the call. He got closer to the screen, you did too.

"Simon… I love you…"

You saw through the pixels how his pupils dilated at the sound of the words.

"Don't do this to me bunny… I'm too far away to fuck you into my mattress…"

You smiled, biting your lip. He wouldn't say it. Not yet. But you'd be patient.

"Guess you're going to have to come back for that." You teased.

He chuckled. You bid your goodbyes, heart heavy.

You stared at the now black screen. You were doomed. Completely doomed. He was king of your thoughts at all times. He had managed to capture the little sparrow and make it his. You closed your eyes, biting your lip.

"You alright?"

You opened your eyes looking at the girls next to you. You smiled faintly nodding at them.

"They'll be fine. They've had to fight worse." Bishop started.

"And they have us. We'll keep them safe." Coyote added.

You sighed. You nodded faintly.

"Come on. Let's go home."

You turned around to notice Laswell standing not too far as well. You stood up, the girls heading to the door. You took a last glance at the black screen before following them.

The next few days, things started to get complicated. Tension kept rising for everyone. You'd spend more time at base. Sometimes staying there overnight. Laswell was keeping an eye on you like a hawk. But you couldn't get yourself to go home. You had ended up bringing Reaper with you everywhere. No one had commented on it.

You were looking at the fluffy plush on your big desk. The sound of panic made your blood run cold. You stood immediately, watching everyone's voice rise and run.

"What's going on?!" You asked.

Bishop froze looking up at you.

"An attack. We've lost communication."

You cursed, sitting back down and getting to work on your computer.

You were focused on trying to find a link, a connection, anything to create a form of communication. Every ticking second felt heavier on you. You felt trapped in an hourglass, sand filling up and pouring around you. Suffocating.

Soon the seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to hours. You were on the verge of a breakdown.

"We got them!"

You ran to the screens.

"Bravo six ?" Laswell called.

You held your breath.

"Bravo six do you copy?!" She called again.

Silence. Heavy silence.

"Bravo six copy." The rough voice rang.

You closed your eyes, releasing the air in your lungs. Price's voice filled you with relief.

"What's your status bravo six?"

"Took a hit, lost a few guys, but squad 141 is operational."

Laswell turned to you. You wanted to cry. You wouldn't. Not in front of everyone. They're fine. Fuck… he's ok.

You sat in a nearby chair. You let them talk over the radio as your mind tried to grasp what happened. You had almost lost him. It hit you how fragile this was. You could lose him at any second. You felt dizzy for a second. You looked up to see Bishop and Coyote with worried looks on their faces.

"Bishop. Coyote." You called.

They turned to you. You called them to you.

"Let's not pretend I don't see your worried looks. I can see you guys have got a little something for a certain captain and a sergeant." You smiled.

Coyote blushed and Bishop smirked. You grabbed their hands.

"We're ok. We're gonna make it. We're together." You tried to comfort.

"Of course we are. That mohawk cutie better come back. Got to take him out." Bishop teased.

You smiled.

"Well… i…i don't know if the captain would be interested…" Coyote said with a little frown.

"Ah don't worry. We'll help you with that." Bishop teased again.

You nodded, winking at her.

"Come on, let's get back to work." You concluded.

You stayed all night. You had used the locker rooms to shower and change. Laswell kept nagging you to go home but you refused. Melissa had passed by with Amy, bringing some food and snacks. You had enjoyed the time with them. But it got late and they had to leave. The room was awfully quiet at night. Bishop and Coyote had gone back home as well, they needed rest.

You needed it too. But your mind was a mess.

You couldn't get it out of your head that you had lost contact with the team and almost lost them. It felt sour. You held Reaper in your arms. Your eyes burnt a bit. You were tired. Laswell was still here. She kept throwing glances at you.

"Hey… you should sleep." She repeated again.

You looked at the bottom of the screen. 4 am.

"I know… but I can't…" you whispered.

She walked off with a sigh.

You refused. You refused to leave. You needed to stay here. This was the closest to him you could be. And for the moment, this is what you needed.

The next morning the team had walked in. You had nodded off around 5am but woken up an hour after. Bishop had brought coffees and snacks. You were grateful for it.

You felt heavy worried stares. You ignored them, drowning yourself back into work.

"Sparrow." Bishop called softly.

You blinked. Standing up. You felt dizzy again for a second but brushed it off. You walked to her. You closed your eyes for a second when you saw it. The screen showed an empty website. Pictures of bloodied dog tags lined up.

"Tell me It's not what I think it is…" you said.

"I'm afraid… it's exactly what it is…" coyote explained in a sad voice.

"They're keeping them as trophies. For each soldier they've killed." Bishop added with a hint of disgust in her voice.

You looked at the names on the little metal collars.

"I'll go report to Laswell… keep an eye on these…" you said.

You felt a knot in your throat as you walked out of the room.

Having that kind of talk was rough. And it had been, for you and for Laswell. Families had to know the truth, and condolences had to be sent with proper decoration for lost soldiers. You knew it would never heal the emptiness the news will leave in these people's hearts. You had walked back to the IT's wing. Bishop had dragged you to a screen immediately.

You felt your heart drop at first, your mind instantly thinking about the worst things.

"Oh look at our little mama bird…"

Your eyes filled with tears. The image was blurry. The sound wasn't top quality, but the faces on screen made you want to cry.

"Johnny…" you tried with a little smile.

Bishop hugged you as soon as she saw your glossy eyes. Coyote held your hand in here.

"Come on, we're all ok! Gonna need more than that!" Alejandro joked.

"We were worried about you guys!" Bishop scolded.

"Yes… please be careful…" coyote added.

"Look at that, our ladies got all worried about us…" Price said, winking at the screen.

You felt Coyote tense. You smiled to yourself squeezing her hand softly.

"I haven't seen Konig in a while, how's he?" You asked.

"Well he's been spending a lot of time with Grim. They keep talking in German so… we have no idea what they're saying." Gaz explained.

"They get along very well though!" Soap said with a wink.

"Where's..?" You asked.

"Hum… not too far. He's a bit…" gaz started.

"Pissed. He's pissed." Soap finished.

You sighed.

"I'll go get him." Alejandro said.

You nodded. The rest of the team talked a bit.

"It's getting complicated. They're feeling surrounded. Becoming more aggressive.." coyote warned.

"Yeah… we're going to change tactics here." Price added.

The call suddenly fell silent. The boys rose, nodding as they walked away. Bishop and Coyote dropped a kiss on each side of your face before stepping away.

"Simon…"

The word fell from your lips. It was like a call to an unknown god.

"Y/N." You heard. "You haven't been sleeping well." His voice was stern.

Your face dropped.

"You almost died." You countered.

"Bunny." He warned..

"Simon." You said in the same tone.

He sighed.

"I'm ok. I'm worried about you right now"

Somehow it did not comfort you. You were worried about him!

"You have to sleep. You hear me?" He scolded.

You sighed too. You nodded slowly.

"Good girl." He praised.

It made you smile.

"Have you been sleeping in my bed?" He asked.

You bit your lip.

"Maybe…"

He leaned closer to the camera.

"Good. I love it when my pillow smells like you."

You smiled.

"You'll have me next to you. You won't need that." You teased.

"Hmm. Careful bunny. I'm not going to forget those words."

"You better not. I hope it motivates you to come back."

He chuckled. The sound of his laugh warmed you.

"On my way baby…"

A month. A full month and half. You were going insane. People probably thought you were insane, walking around base with Reaper hanging out of your bag. You had been forced by Laswell and Simon, over a video call, to go out with Melissa for a few hours after work. You had finally given in. There you were, in front of a restaurant on base.

Melissa welcomed you with a hug as you walked to your table in the restaurant.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

You shrugged.

"Could be much better… could be much worse."

She smiled at you.

"How about you? Any news on Eric?" You asked with a worried voice.

"No, not any. Since you talked to Hopkins I feel babysitted at all times." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Good. Very good." You answered with a smile.

She laughed, making you relax. The dinner spent with her lifted some stress and pressure off your shoulders. You had to be honest, it helped you feel better. You had insisted to pay for dinner, it had helped you so much. As you walked out of the restaurant, the cold air made you shiver. You were talking to Melissa when she happily waved at someone.

You turned to watch the K.9 team discussing, not too far. You walked to them.

"Sergeant Gallegos !" A woman greeted.

"Hey Jenny." She greeted back.

The woman turned to you, palling a bit. The German shepherd next to her sitting calmly, its pink tongue out, did not let her master leave its sight.

"Sparrow.." she tried with a bit less friendlyness.

You smiled, trying to relax her.

"Don't worry, I'm out here completely harmless." You assured.

Her shoulders seemed to relax a bit as she smiled.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Melissa asked.

"Oh hum… we're out to throw a goodbye party…." She answered with a little sadness in her voice.

"Oh… someone leaving?" You asked.

She nodded turning her body so you could look behind her. The team was talking, their k9s on leash next to them. You frowned, confused. Jenny walked over to them, making Melissa and you follow her.

"Guys, Sergeant Gallegos and … Sparrow came to say hi."

You waved with a warm smile. You were glad they didn't seem too nervous around you.

"So, who's leaving?" Melissa asked.

"Oh… it's um… it's him." A man said.

You followed his gaze. A black shepherd laid on the ground. His beautiful brown eyes shining under the restaurants lights.

"Oh he's retiring?" You asked.

"Hum not really…" another said.

"Can… I?" You asked.

Jenny nodded.

You stepped towards the dog kneeling next to it slowly. You let him sniff your hand as his head rose. He let you pet him, making you smile.

"His soldier was KIA. He hasn't been eating since." The soldier holding the leash explained.

"KIA?" You asked.

"Killed in action." Melissa explained.

"Oh…" you frowned.

"Sometimes it happens. The dogs see their soldiers die and refuse to eat for a little while. With time and lots of patience and love it usually gets better. But… he just seems to have given up." Jenny explained.

"He's been through foster homes and vets but… he just gave up." Another soldier explained.

You felt your heart shatter as you looked into it's eyes.

"What's going to happen to him.." Melissa asked.

"Well… I'm afraid he'll have to be… you know…" he explained.

You bit your lip. You felt the colar underneath your fingers, through the semi long furr of his neck. You grabbed the little tag on it reading the name.

"Riley …" you let out.

"Oh… Sparrow…" Melissa tried.

You felt something like a flash coursing through your blood. Something that urged you to do something.

"Is there no other way?" You asked, turning to Jenny.

"Well… we've tried everything… we can't chose for him… and in the end it's the commander's choice… even if it breaks the team's hearts" she said.

You bit your lip. Looking back at the big pup, you felt yourself melt and at the same time cry inside. He looked down… like he had truly given up. He missed his soldier. His family. Just like you.

"Sparrow… i don't think that's a good idea." You heard Melissa, as she seemed to read your mind.

But it was too late, you had already made your decision.

"I'll take him." You said in a decisive tone.

The team looked at each other, taken a back.

"Ma'am… I don't think you can…" a woman said.

"The commander's orders…" Jenny tried too.

"Get your commander on call. Tell him Sparrow wants to keep K9 Riley." You said with a smile.

She hesitated. Melissa had given up on trying to tell you no. She was just smiling, her arms crossed. Jenny turned to Melissa who simply nodded. As Jenny took out her cellphone, the team seemed to perk up.

"Ma'am… are you really going to keep him?" The soldier holding the leash asked.

You nodded with a big smile.

"It'll take time… but I have patience. And all the time in the world." You said.

Jenny started speaking on the phone. The team fell silent.

"Hum… the commander would like to speak to you…" she said.

"Sure! Put him on speaker." You agreed.

She did. She walked up to you and put the phone on speaker. The team surrounded you. You almost wanted to laugh at the team around you. How silent they were.

"Hello?" The phone rang.

"Hello commander." You greeted.

Silence. Melissa held herself from laughing out loud.

"Sparrow?"

"Yes, commander?"

"Hum… are you really asking to take one of the K9's?"

"Absolutely. Is there a problem with my request…?"

"Well… more than one but… I'm not sure I'm allowed to refuse either."

You laughed a bit.

"You can. But I usually get what I want."

"What should I even say to General Hopkins?"

"The exact truth. I met Riley. I decided to keep it. I told you. You couldn't refuse. That's all."

You leaned down again, petting the black dog.

"Hum.." he hesitated.

"If he has something to say. Please tell him to directly come to me." You warned.

The team looked shocked. Melissa rolled her eyes.

"Well… alright, I'll take care of the paperwork and have it delivered to you to sign by the sergeant."

The soldiers around jumped happily, silently though. You smiled to yourself. Was this a very thoughtful decision? No. It definitely wasn't responsible but you'd make sure to own up to your brand new responsibilities.

"Thank you commander, have a good night."

Jenny took back her phone, ending the call after a few last words with her commander. The team cheered. Melissa smiled at you.

"We have to celebrate!" One said.

"I can't believe this just turned into a celebration" Jenny cheered.

"Yeah… Sparrow has a thing for Riley's." Melissa teased.

The team awkwardly looked at each other.

"So… it's true? For… you and Lieutenant…" jenny asked.

You nodded trying to not make a fuss out of it.

"He said he wanted a dog. I think he'll be thrilled… or probably scold me but he'll get around eventually." You joked.

The team laughed a bit.

"Let's grab a drink!" A man said.

"Oh… well… just one. We got lots of work tomorrow…" Melissa said.

"Yeah. And I got to find lots of stuff for my new furr baby." You said.

"We'll help you with that! We can give you a few stuff for the night." Jenny assured.

You smiled.

"Alright. One drink."

You walked to the car with your new friend. You were surprised how Riley followed you without a problem. You opened the passenger door of the black jeep. Simon had left his car obviously, and insisted that you'd use it. You looked down at the dog, sitting, looking up at you.

"Come on Riley. Let's go home."

He seemed to understand as he jumped into front seat. You closed the door, dropping all the things the team had given you in the backseat. Walking around the car you got into the driver's seat. The black dog was sitting next to you, looking at you.

"It's ok. We'll be ok." You assured.

You turned the key, heading home.

You walked into the doorway. The house was quiet..empty. You turned on the lights as you closed the door behind you. You bent down to take off the leash. Riley didn't move. You started walking to the kitchen, watching him follow you slowly. He really looked sad. You dropped the things on the counter. You looked down at the dog who looked at you.

You grabbed the bag of dog food, walking to get a bowl. You filled it with food and grabbed another bowl to fill it with water. Walking back to the dog and softly putting down the bowls in front of him. He looked at them. He went for the water, lapping a bit. He smelled the food but refused to eat. You sighed. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. You sat down on the floor next to him. He laid down next to you, looking at you.

You grabbed his collar softly, petting the sides of his head.

"I know… I know… you miss your soldier."

He whined.

"I miss mine too…"

The next day you had warned Laswell you'd be a bit late. She didn't mind. You had drove with Riley to the base's Vet.

You walked in with him heading for the receptionist.

"Hi, good morning, I'd like to buy some dog food and vitamins." You asked the man.

"Oh… hum.. Sparrow…i mean… ma'am…" he stuttered.

"It's alright. Breath." You smiled.

He did so. He looked relieved.

"Hum… so you have a dog?" He asked.

"It's very recent but yes." You said looking to your side.

The big black dog was sitting next to you, looking up at you. The man rose above the counter to look down.

"Oh.. that's…that's Riley…" he said.

"You know him?" You frowned.

"Hum… yeah. We took care of him when he came back from the field… and when he refused to eat. I thought he was going to be put down." He said with a frown.

"I decided to take him in." You said.

The man smiled.

"I'll be right back gonna see for the vitamins, I'll help you choose some food for him." He said.

You nodded with a smile. Other soldiers stood with their dogs in the waiting room. They looked at you, recognizing you and the black dog. They seemed anxious. Suddenly you heard the voices from behind the counter, in the back of the clinic.

"Tell this woman she's waisting her time. The dog was scheduled to be put down this afternoon and I can still do it. But she's waisting money and time."

You frowned, feeling the anger rise.

"Hum… ma'am… I think we shouldn't…" the receptionist tried.

"Fine I'll tell her myself. It's stupid to waist vitamins and food on a hopeless dog."

Now you were furious. You felt a nudge in your palm. You looked next to you at the dog looking at you intensely. You bent down to pet him and drop a kiss on top of his head. You heard the voice get closer to the front desk. You were hidden behind it as you were cuddling Riley.

"Where is she?! Ma'am I suggest you hand the dog over, he should be put-"

You rose to your feet, eyeing the angry woman. She had frozen in spot. You glanced down looking at her badge, taking in her name. The room had fallen silent.

"I didn't come to ask for your opinion. Did I?" You spat.

Her gaze faltered.

"You'd be kind enough to give me what I asked please."

The woman cleared her throat.

"I have to remind you-" she tried, in a softer tone.

"Again. Didn't ask." You answered angrily.

She swallowed.

"You're not gonna give it to me?" You asked, raising a brow. "Very well. Hum… dr… Jenkins." You squinted your eyes exaggeratedly.

"Come on Riley, let's go somewhere else." You turned around before stopping.

"Wait! Hum.. we'll give you the vitamins and food. But you're waisting your time." She said.

"You're the one waisting my time. And I'm getting pissed." You warned, looking back at her.

Riley whined. You looked down at him, petting his head.

"Hum… how about we look into the different foods?" The receptionist asked, trying to ease the situation..

You nodded, throwing a dark glance at the vet. You'd be sure to have a talk with Laswell and Hopkins later.

An hour later your arrived at the IT's IQ. Riley followed you inside, you had a bag with dog food, a water bottle and a cappuccino in hand. The room fell quiet when they saw you walk in with the black shepherd.

"Hum… Sparrow." Laswell called confused. "What's that?"

"A cappuccino." You answered.

She rolled her eyes.

"Sparrow. Why do you have a dog?" She asked.

"Oh. That's Riley. He's my dog now." You said matter of factly.

Bishop laughed while coyote looked confused, gasping. Laswell looked just as confused. You decided to go to your desk to sit at your chair. Riley had followed you, laying down at your feet.

"No. No. Sparrow. We're not going to ignore this."

You put Reaper down. It seemed to get Riley's attention. He stood, siting now. You looked at the dog, then at the plush.

"We can share. But you need to be gentle with it. Ok?" You said.

The dog tilted his head to the side, curious. You picked up the plush, slightly worried of your next action. You gave it to him. He very gently grabbed it with his mouth, falling back down to the floor. He put it down in between his paws, sniffing and pushing his nose into it. He was gentle with it, and did not sink his teeth. You smiled, turning back to your computer.

"No! Sparrow! We're going to talk about this!" Laswell warned.

You did not, in fact, talk about it.

The day turned out to be much more important than you thought. It turns out the day prior the boys were very close to tracking down the brothers. And they had finally reached their targets. You had been feeling an absolute mess. You had noticed it seemed to affect Riley. He stood closer to you. Nudged your hand or leg, grasping your attention.

You'd always pet him or cuddle him. When the news had finally fallen that they had gotten their hands on the target, the room filled with joy. It was over. The mission was a success. But not to you. Not until you had him next to you. Bishop and Coyote were stoked. Laswell was smiling at you. Yes. It relaxed you. But you only had him in mind. Only his arms around you.

"Hey. It's over. They're coming back." Coyote said.

You took a deep breath. Yes. They were coming back.

You remained in the room for hours. Even after. You remained until you knew they were back on their base. Bishop and Coyote we're much more relaxed. Laswell kept in touch with the general once in a while and the authorities there. You just wanted to talk to him. You were glad they had finally caught the cartel brothers. But your mind kept running to him. He was finally coming home.

You smiled at the pup next to you. He seemed to be curious and to watch you very often. Through the day you tried to feed him little pieces of treats or food. He had first fully refused, then slowly bitten a treat. You had been delighted, causing him to perk his ears up at your reaction. You showered him with 'good boy' and pets. Laswell kept trying to question you about your new companion and you ignored it.

He had attracted all the attention from the women in the room and some men too.

When the sun had started to set outside, you were called to video chat with the team.

"Hey!!" Bishop called to the screen.

"Well hello there, pretty eyes." Soap flirted.

"Get out, you'll flirt later!" Gaz groaned.

You smiled.

Price and Simon weren't present. You chatted with the group, Konig, grim, Carkeys, Áquila… it felt great to know they were ok.

"We're getting an extraction in a few hours! We'll be home soon!" Car-Keys said, relief in his voice.

You had rolled your eyes, the girl nagging him about when he had lost his Car Keys on a field mission.

When Simon finally showed up, he greeted the girls before the rest of the team gave you a little privacy.

"I got a surprise for you!" You smiled at the screen.

"Hmm a surprise?" He looked curious.

You picked up the big dog into your arms, Riley licking your face.

"His name is Riley !" You happily announced.

You heard him chuckle.

"Where did you get a dog?" He asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"He was being taken to be put down… his soldier was KIA. He wasn't eating, he let himself die. We're slowly getting used to each other, he eats very tiny pieces…I'm trying to get him to feel safe." You explained.

There was a little silence before he spoke again.

"Here you go again… saving a Riley."

You blushed, looking at the screen. The pixels weren't enough. Not anymore. You wanted your soldier back.

"Come back to me…" you said.

"I'm coming home, baby. We have plans."

You bit your lip through a smile. Yes. He was coming home.

Night had settled in. You had driven home right after ending the call. For the past 2 hours you had been happily roaming around the house. Riley was curious watching you pace around. For dinner, you sat down on the floor next to him, trying to motivate him to eat. He had not eaten his food. He had accepted two little bites of the steak you were eating. It was enough to cause a happy squeal from you each time.

It was almost midnight when the girls showed up. Melissa included. Amy was with a babysitter for the occasion. Bishop had brought a bottle of vodka to celebrate the end of the mission.

Riley always remained close to you. The girls loved to pet him. A conversation had settled in, time passing by without any of you noticing. Eventually, it was 2 am, and you were giggling together. You had decided to only drink a shot or two, not really wanting to get drunk.

Riley was laying on the couch with you, bishop and Coyote we're cuddling on another couch with Melissa at the other end.

"God! You need to be more confident darling! We see how he looks at you. He's curious" Bishop teased.

"He's… I don't know…" Coyote blushed.

"I say. Go for it." Melissa added.

You giggled again.

A knock interrupted your conversation. You heard the door unlock. You frowned before hearing Laswell's voice.

"We're here Kate!" You chuckled.

The girls laughed too, a new friend entering the circle promised more jokes and gossip.

When Kate stepped into the room, the air shifted. Hopkins walked behind her. The air had grown suffocating. You had lost your smile. The girls had gone silent. They were dressed officially.

"Kate?" You questioned.

She seemed to swallow hard, eyes not leaving yours. You stood up, the girls doing the same. You walked over to them, the tiny footsteps of Riley on the floor following you. You crossed your arms in a comforting movement.

"Squad 141 initiated extraction 45 minutes ago." Hopkins started.

You frowned.

"During extraction, they were confronted with an ambush." He continued.

You felt your heart drop. Was he injured? What happened?

"Can you skip to the news please?" Bishop interrupted.

He looked at her, thinking.

"Listen… Y/N…" Kate stepped forwards to you.

You felt the walls closing in. Something terrible hovering over your head.

You felt a nudge on your arm. Riley tried to keep you grounded to reality. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just… something else. You were overreacting.

Kate looked torn. She wanted to talk, obviously. But something seemed to hold her back.

Hopkins sighed, clearing his throat.

"We are sad and sorry to inform you that Lieutenant Simon Riley and Captain John Price were KIA."

What.. what was that? That sound… your ears were buzzing. You felt nauseous. You felt like your whole body had gotten heavier. Like it no longer belonged to you.

"No." You let out.

"Y/N. Listen to me, please.." Kate tried.

She reached for your hand but you took a step back.

"No. That's… no." You looked at her. "Kate…" you begged.

Her eyes were filled with tears. She didn't speak. She looked away. It was true. It was…

Hopkins took a step forward. Riley suddenly growled, inching closer to your leg.

"Sparrow, I would advise you to-"

"Get out."

Silence fell.

"What..?" Kate questioned.

"Get out. All of you." You said again.

You felt surrounded. Your brain felt on fire yet you felt like you were drowning.

We have plans.

"Y/N…" bishop tried.

"Please. Get. Out." You warned.

Melissa grabbed Coyote by the shoulders, hugging her. They walked towards the door, Bishop and Kate following, dragging Hopkins with them. You heard the front door close.

Silence. Deafening silence.

You let yourself kneel to the floor, Riley alert next to you. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be true. No.

You felt something fall on your hand. You looked down, the little droplets shining under the light. You were crying. You felt like someone was ripping your heart out.

Your mind had decided to torture you, reenacting every kiss, every hug every promise in a tangling loop. It felt like you could hear his voice. Him. Calling for you. But it wasn't true. It wasn't real. Never again…

For the second time in your life, you screamed. You screamed until something deep in your throat broke. And just like last time. Under attack in the training grounds. You screamed for him. You poured your mind, soul, heart into a scream you knew. You knew despite the mind wrecking hope. He would not answer this time.

-----

Everything must come to an end...

or not...

SIKE

see you on chapter 16

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http-paprika · 1 year

Text

what's left / simon "ghost" riley

part two

zombie-apocalypse!au / pairing simon "ghost riley x female reader / wc 2186 / warnings brief gore, illusions to violence, typical end of the world angst, swearing.

summery ghost is tasked with escorting y/n to edinburgh to help with creating the cure for the zombie outbreak. it wasn't in the plan for him to fall along.

note y'all liked my post about writing something for this, so hopefully you'll enjoy this story. um, not actually heavy in terms of zombie appearances, but i have plans for another part to this story if ya'll end up enjoying this.

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Ghost stayed seated, back flat against the wall as he watched Y/N sleep and breathe slowly, her chest rising and falling steadily. He couldn’t imagine that the small cot was comfortable, or even very warm, but she seemed to be at peace. The only look of relief he’d seen on her face since their first unfortunate meeting. The painful memory of sirens blaring, people screaming in confusion, and the gut-wrenching, squelching noise of rotting flesh moving through the compound.

A shiver ran down Ghost’s back at the memory, he stiffened, hardening his clutch around his gun, but the night stayed enjoyably silent. It was quiet in a way he didn’t know, lacking the noise cities and towns used to have, the area around him was drenched in an inky black, and the only light provided was from the moon and stars above that cut through the cracks in the window.

She shifts in her sleep next to him, twitching involuntarily, a bad dream he supposed. Without a thought, Ghost reached down with a gloved hand, brushing it against her cheek, down her neck. The touch stills her, Y/N’s body easing again from the gesture.

“Fucking hell.” He quietly mutters to himself, in the dim light, he moves the blanket to check the wound on her leg. His fingers graze the stained gauze bandaging, wincing knowing how much worse it could’ve been. How much worse Ghost had seen.

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“We’ve got reports of outbreaks in all major cities across the United Kingdom and the world.” The news was completely ignored as the military compound was in disarray, chaos sweeping through as soldiers moved out. Everything was pure chaos, the streets were filled with blood and bones, corpses piling up as the flesh-craving, rabid creatures spread like wildfire. The consequence of biological warfare and the weapons it made. Man had played god and met its destruction when they decided to use their own as a tool.

Ghost’s body was tired, threatening to give out under him as he gunned down more of the creatures. Maggots was the name Soap had decided to call them as they fought back, killing those who’d once been fellow soldiers. But if he stopped now, he’d be swarmed by the infected, and if not ripped apart limb-by-limb, he’d receive a fate worse than death.

“We’ve got medical personnel barricaded in the infirmary, we need to get them out of there and moved to the QZ.” Price barked at Ghost over the comms, he was closet to the infirmary, near the outer hall that led to the medical wing. He groaned loudly, fearing what would happen if he tried to move, but the orders stood firm, and while the government was falling apart, he still acted as a soldier for his country.

“Moving there now.”

It was in that dark infirmary, where he could hear the Maggots beating against the outside walls that he first saw her. Gun clutched in her hands, blood splattered across her clothes and skin, and a grave of personnel who’d been turned in the infirmary as he dragged her out of the closet. Y/N kicked and screamed, scarred that he was dragging her to her death, but she went limp once he’d thrown her over his shoulder, his arm securing her in place as he moved her to the cleared tarmac. Past the growing swarms of flies that flocked to dead humans and Maggots alike.

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“Ghost?” Her quiet voice echoed through the dark room, he gazed at her bruised face. Frowning, Simon wiped some of the grime from the journey off.

“Right here, Y/N.” Ghost sighed, she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. “How do you feel?”

“Probably just as bad as you.” Y/N brought her leg up, closing it to her chest so she could tug at the bandaging. “Need to change to gauze.”

“Let me do that, Y/N. No need to stress yourself, you need to rest.” He tells her, reaching over to her backpack, reaching inside, and finding her small kit of supplies. The container was beginning to run low, he didn’t like to think about what would happen if they didn’t get to Edinburgh soon. What had been planned, had gone astray.

“Ghost, you need to rest too. I’m not going to be falling back asleep.” She forces the gauze and antiseptic wipes out of his hands and into hers. “You need to rest, otherwise you’ll just be a bag of bones.”

Wiping his face with his hand and letting out a low groan, Ghost knew she was right. He’d had little rest the past few days and knew how it would delay his reaction time and ability to keep her safe. “Are you sure? I don’t want you-”

“I’ll be fine, and if I have even the slightest suspicion that something is wrong, I’ll wake you up. I promise.” Y/N assures him. Ghost reluctantly agrees, his body grateful at the idea of rest, even if it was for just a brief moment.

“Swear it.”

“I swear I’ll wake you up. Please, sleep.” She promises, shifting into a seating position. Ghost stayed seated, but let his head rest against the walls and allowed his eyes to droop. Exhaustion won the battle against his willpower as he drifted off.

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“We need to get her to Edinburgh, they have the tools, the chance to get a cure made. And she’s got the knowledge they need.” Price more often than not, was raising his voice at people. Even with the QZ safely established, and the initial surge dying down, there was too much uncertainty and too much loss for him to act rationally. Ghost knew this, he acted the same, snapping too quickly nowadays at already terrified soldiers under him. Sometimes he felt as mindless and flesh-eating as the Maggots, sniffing out fear like the infected sniffed out their next victim.

It seemed selfish to fight against the order he’d be given, foolish and self-centered. But what real chance did they have at creating a cure to stop the virus and its continued spread? Rumors had circulated that the Americans had been in the early stages of developing a counteract to the outbreak, but England had lost contact with all allies months ago. They could only rely on themselves, and even that seemed a stretch.

“Why don’t you get someone else?” Someone disposable, Ghost thought, as he knew the chances of successfully getting someone across the wasteland of England up to Edinburgh were almost impossible. Vehicles, cars, or helis were out of the question, fuel was strictly saved for powering and keeping the QZ warm. Which left him with no other option but to walk, for three weeks through towns, cities, and country filled with Maggots. A certain death.

“Because you’re the only one I trust to get her there.”

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The sun poured into the room, Ghost’s eyes flickered open before he jolted himself fully awake. His heart slammed in his chest, panic seeping through his veins. How long had he been asleep? Next to him, Y/N lay turned into his side, pressed into the side of his ribs. Ghost found the gun still propped against the wall next to him, he brought it back into his grip and surveyed the room around. All was quiet, all was at ease. Almost as if the outbreak hadn’t happened, destroying mankind in its wake.

Ghost wished Y/N had woken him up the moment she’d grown tired, but he didn’t have it in himself to be mad. For a high-achieving doctor, who always strove to be efficient, Ghost was a bit annoyed by her lack of responsibility. But she looked so beautiful in the early morning light, under the layer of dirt and grime that clung to her skin, Ghost’s eyes lingered on her rosy cheeks and soft lips.

He hated to break the silence or drag her awake, but they needed to move. Their location would only stay safe for so long. “Y/N. We need to get going.”

The woman grumbled at his words, trying to bury herself closer to Ghost’s side. He smirks at her action, prying her hands off of his body. His fingers grazed the veins and took comfort in the steady flow of blood in her body.

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Dry grass crunched under his feet as he carried her to the abandoned farmhouse. Set away from the road and society, no Rotten would wander this far from a horde. They’d be safe, safer than they’d been in the town where they’d been attacked by raiders. Y/N let out a whimper as he set her down on the ground, needing his hands to pry open the heavy wooden door. Her hand moved down to the poorly bandaged leg, where the large gash lay from where she’d been struck during the attack.

The hinges of the door creak as it opens, Ghost steps in, pistol raised and ready to survey the room. The farm, much like everything else around them, was abandoned. He didn’t care to think what had happened to those who’d lived there before, death had lost its sting for Ghost long ago.

Pulling Y/N back into his arms, Ghost moved back into the house, setting her down on the sagging settee in the living room. He moved down to the wounded leg, and as he began to unwrap the gauze, she winced, cringing as the cold, stale air greeted her wound. Y/N’s body shook uneasily, and her breathing was swallowed.

“Sorry.” Ghost apologizes, pulling open her medical kit. But his stomach churned uncomfortably at the wound, it was still oozing.

“S’gonna need stitches.” Y/N groans, dropping her head back down against the arm of the settee after evaluating the wound and its condition. “I can do it myself, but I’ll need you to find needle and thread.”

“I’ll find it, and I’ll do it myself. You’re in no condition to attempt to stitch yourself up.” He grunts, standing back up and beginning to search the room they were in for the needed materials.

“But-”

“No buts, Y/N. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.” Ghost states, opening a closet that was still stocked with sewing supplies. Plenty of needles, and a variety of colorful threads. He chose the one that was closest to medical thread, placing it and the small plastic container of needles down on the coffee table.

As he began to sew the wound closed, Y/N’s eyes began to water, and she gripped the fabric of the settee grinding her teeth. Ghost felt the need to keep apologizing to her, over and over again until he’d tightly secured the stitching with a knot. She let out a strained sob as he wiped the skin clean of dried blood with a cloth and some water from his canteen.

“I’m sorry, it’s done now.” He promised her, yanking his dirty gloves off and dropping them on the coffee table next to his discarded backpack and the harder outer layer of his mask. “You’re okay, I promise.” Ghost assures her, taking Y/N’s face in his calloused hands. She nods, her lips still trembling.

There wasn’t a thought in his mind as he pressed a kiss on the side of her cheek. He brought her body close to his, breathing in the smell of her skin, the blood, sweat, and tears. They stayed like that for a while, he allowed her to cry into his neck, his hands running through her knotted hair.

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His gaze falls on her as she fights the knots out of her hair, trying to manage just a bit before they set out again. While Ghost wouldn’t admit it, his body was painfully numb from all the walking they’d done the past weeks, wishing they’d made it to Edinburgh already. But he feared what would happen when they did arrive. The quiet moments he’d come to enjoy with Y/N would disappear. She’d return to her duty, struggling to make a cure. And what purpose would he have? The idea of attempting to return to London alone was a dangerous one. He assumed the military up there would put him to work. But would he ever get to spend any more cold nights, keeping her warm?

“I’m ready.” Y/N finally announces to him, pulling her backpack over her shoulders.

“‘Bout damn time.” Ghost huffs, offering her his hand to steady herself with. She wobbles a bit, unsure of how much weight she can put on her leg without it giving out underneath her. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” She nods but Ghost drops his arm down around her waist, adding extra support. “Ghost-”

“Let me help you.” He asks, leaning down and kissing her face. The rough material of the mask brushed against her raw skin. Y/N grasps at the mask, trying to remove the barrier between them. With reluctance, he breaks away from her lips, knowing his action is dangerous with consequences that could hurt. “Another time, Y/N. Need to save our breath.”

note so, i'll admit, i left the worst of the angst out of this. but- i may decide to deliver the rest if ya'll are curious about how gut-wrenching my writing can actually get.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #call of duty mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw22 #ghost mw2 #fanfic #y/n #zombie apocalypse #call of duty zombies #zombies!au #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #female reader #angst fanfic #i may have also been thinking about pedro pascal as joel miller #dont judge

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