#elle fanning blood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prentissluvr · 3 months

Text

forget-me-nots — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : soulmate!au, fluff, very light angst ➖⟢ cw : light mentions of canon typical death, violence, and monsters, shirtless sam aaaaa, light descriptions of injuries and blood, reader believes in ghosts before knowing about the supernatural, drinking/alcohol mentions, silly criminal minds reference to my gf elle, kissing, poor editing ➖⟢ wc : 5.6K summary : in a world where flowers grow on your skin in the exact places your soulmate is injured, you’re constantly covered in forget-me-nots.

heartache is one thing. heartache for someone you don’t know, someone whose face you’ve never seen or who you’ve never met, is another, stranger thing. it’s common for many to feel this heartache before they know their soulmate, but sometimes you feel as though you have to worry much more than most.

you try not to let thoughts of your mystery soulmate consume you, but you seem to have constant reminders of them litered on your skin in the form of tiny blue flowers. admittedly, you find it romantic that forget-me-nots are your soulmate flower, with their symbolism of true love, respect, and fidelity. the flowers themself feel like a good omen, a sweet promise of a steady love waiting for you. but, the frequency with which they appear on your skin feels far less lucky and always feeds you so much worry for this person you’ve yet to meet.

this morning, you wake with new blooms snaking along your left collarbone, peeking out from the seam of your sleep shirt. and when you change into new clothes, you find a few more growing on your bicep and the side of your ribs.

sighing, you stand at the mirror lightly brushing your fingers over the small flowers and wonder what sort of trouble your soulmate got into last night. as always, worry floods your chest, but you do your best to tamp it down considering the fact that you only bear a few new blooms. the more severe the injury, the more flowers appear on your skin. today, your soulmate must only be dealing with small surface cuts.

sometimes, you’re covered in so many forget-me-nots that you’re too worried to do much of anything at all. more than once, you’ve wondered how your soulmate could still be alive, and the continuous flowers on your skin serve as your only proof that they're still around. there were a few years where you barely had any blooms, just the usual flower on a fingertip to signify a papercut or the occasional few because of a small accident. but one night the flowers came in bunches and never stopped.

you imagine what you might say or do when you meet them. maybe you’ll want to check on whatever wounds they have, be sure it’s not too bad, or maybe you’ll scold them for making you worry so much. you’ll certainly ask what they do in their life that gets them so injured so often. maybe you’ll do it all.

but for now, you’ll have to move on and get ready for the day. the flowers always linger, though.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s been a rather strange week. the flowers from last thursday have completely faded, and you’ve gone a day or two without any new forget-me-nots appearing on your skin. the strange part has been at work. on monday night, one of your coworkers died in the building, but you still had to come in to work the next day. one of the rooms was taped off, but that was the only evidence of the misfortune. the same thing happened last night, thursday, and you’re ready to do everything you can to get at least the next several days off of work. you don't want to risk anything.

and now, it seems the goddamn fbi is interested in whatever has happened. you’re not a huge fan of the federal government, but you have to admit that the bureau has sent two of its most attractive agents. normally, you’d keep your head down, but you feel inexplicably drawn to one of them. he’s the taller of the two, which is impressive because the other is already tall, and he has pretty brown hair and dimples that you catch a glimpse of as he talks to one of your coworkers.

he looks away from her as he moves away, seemingly done with the interview. he catches your eye, and your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment. he’s a beautiful man; pretty and sweet looking at the same time as he’s traditionally handsome and slightly imposing. you’ve never loved a stranger’s eyes so much.

he approaches you and you can’t help but watch as he grows closer.

“hi,” he greets with a small smile, “i’m agent greenaway with the fbi. can i ask you a few questions about the deaths from this week?”

“i’m not sure i’ll be much help, but sure,” you nod, folding your arms over your stomach. agent greenaway doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but the topic at hand certainly does.

“that’s alright. sometimes the smallest things can really be helpful,” he reassures, keeping the kind look on his face. “have you noticed anything strange about either of the deceased or the building this past week or so?”

you shake your head. “not really. i mean i didn’t work closely with macy, and i never noticed anything off about lex.”

“and the building? any strange cold spots or flickering lights?”

you find the question sort of odd coming from an fbi agent, but you instintually feel like you should take it seriously. “um, yeah, actually. it was really cold by the bathrooms last night when i left. at first i thought the ac finally got fixed, but it was still sort of warm over here. in this area”

“okay. thank you for your help,” he smiles at you again and for a reason you can't quite place, you don’t want the unusual conversation to end. you have to hide a hint of delight from your expression when he hands you his card. “call me if you think of anything else.” you accept the card with a nod. he looks like he’s about to walk away, but he pauses. “and, uh– be careful. you should go home early tonight.”

“oh. okay, i will.” without knowing why, you trust him. you want to see him again.

⟢⟢⟢

saturday night is the second busiest night at the bar, but you’re glad it’s not as crowded fridays normally are. you walk straight to the bar to order your go-to drink. as you wait for the bartender to make it, you stare at yourself in the mirror behind the counter out of the corner of your eye. today, there’s two little forget-me-nots right on your left cheek. they look sort of cute there, and you guess you should be grateful that it’s such a small wound. there’s no other flowers on your body yet, which feels like a good run for your soulmate. that’s a little over a whole week in between different injuries, even small ones.

the bartender slides you your drink and you thank them. there’s a small red carnation on their thumb, and you wonder if they’ve met their own soulmate yet. you suppose that at the end of the day, you’re scared of what just about everyone else is. without trying, you worry about not meeting your soulmate until you're old and left without much time together. you want to meet them, and you think the sooner the better. the idea’s been particularly stuck in your mind since last night.

agent greenaway’s words echo in your head. “be careful. you should go home early tonight.” he seemed so sweet, so genuine and caring, and all you’ve been able to think about since then is meeting someone like him. finding someone kind with a little red mark on their cheek and a forget-me-not on their right pointer finger to match the papercut you got earlier this afternoon.

and simply, you’ve been feeling a little lonely these days. how nice would it be to have your literal soulmate by your side?

you sip slowly at your drink, and when the cup’s empty, you pay the tab. the bar isn’t quite serving as the distraction you hoped it would. as you head for the door, your gaze snags on a mop of brown hair that wouldn’t be considered familiar for the fact that you’ve only seen it once, but feels that way regardless. quickly, you scan the rest of the bar, and sure enough you catch sight of agent greenaway’s partner, across the way and very obviously flirting with a pretty brunette.

for a moment you pause, wondering if it would be weird or too out-of-the-blue to approach agent greenaway, but the pull you feel towards him overrides all else, taking your hand and guiding it to throw all caution to the wind.

he’s facing away from you, and with a friendly smile, you slide into the seat across from him.

“hi,” you greet over the noise of music and talking, “d’you mind if i sit here?” it takes him a moment to answer, like he’s lagging a little bit.

“uh– no, no i don’t mind,” he flashes a quick smile back at you, but his gaze and attention are clearly stuck somewhere on your face. for just a split-second, you’re confused by what he could be staring at, but it clicks not a moment later. you don’t know how you missed it: the red mark on his left cheek, so small that your eyes glossed over it when you sat down. eagerly, you drop your gaze to his hands, one casually wrapped around his beer bottle and the other resting on the table. and sure enough, so tiny and pretty against his big hand is a single forget-me-not on his right pointer finger, exactly where you have a bandaid wrapped around your own.

you suck in a sharp breath, eyes caught on the delicate flower and unable to drag themselves away to look back at his face. just like everyone else, you’ve thought about it a million times over, what it would feel like to meet your soulmate, what you would do, how you would act. in this moment, you feel frozen, but you feel right and you feel a million questions and urges rise up in your heart and mind. you desperately want to reach out to him, to touch his hand and the little flower and make sure that they’re both real.

but you absolutely cannot keep your gaze away from his face for long at all and when you meet his eyes, an irresistible smile stretches across your face. you look at him with nothing short of wonderment. he’s just stunning and you can’t believe that he’s supposed to be… well, yours.

just staring at each other, you feel a little flustered and awkward, unsure what to say to him. then you realize he should probably know your name, and all you know is his last. so you stick your right hand out and tell him your name. he takes your hand with a smile and repeats it back, saying it carefully and savoring the sound and feel of it on his tongue.

when you touch him for the first time, your breath gets caught in your throat and it feels so right that you never want to let go.

“i’m sam,” he says, only letting his hand fall away from yours after a few moments. even then, your fingertips are merely inches apart now.

“sam greenaway,” you echo, easily remembering how he introduced himself yesterday. then you puzzle at his reaction and the way that the name doesn’t feel quite right as you look at him. he cringes slightly, like he’s done something to be guilty of. “or… not?” for a minute, things were starting to add up to you. the way you felt drawn to him yesterday and his job as an fbi agent finally explaining all of his many injuries. you figured he must be in fights often.

“i– i’m sorry, this is so– i mean if we’re really,” he takes a deep breath, trying to reset and figure out how to say things right. “if we’re really, you know, soulmates… well, there’s just a lot– a lot for me to explain. i’m not an fbi agent and my real name is sam winchester. but i swear, there’s a reason for me lying and i promise that i’ll explain it to you if you’re willing to hear it. which i understand if you don’t–”

“i do,” you say in earnest, finally cutting him off. it took you a second because, for a moment, you were too stuck on him saying the word soulmate aloud in reference to the two of you. it felt special and you were only half paying attention to the things he said after because of that. then all you were thinking about was how endearing he seems when he’s flustered and worried. “it’s okay,” you reassure him, “i want to hear it. i– i mean, sure, it’s sort of strange that you lied about, you know, all that, but… i’m not– i’m not gonna just meet my… my soulmate and not give you a chance.” he still looks a little tense, but his shoulders have dropped a bit in relief and there’s the hint of a grateful smile on his features.

“thank you,” he says, glad for your reassurance but still worried about how you might take the rest of the far weirder explanations that he has left to tell you. “can i maybe get you a drink?”

you smile at the offer, but shake your head a bit. “i was actually just heading out when i saw you. would you maybe wanna get out of here? my apartment’s less than a ten minute walk away.” for a moment, you wonder if that’s too much for just having met, but sam visibly relaxes just a little bit more.

“that would be nice,” he smiles. he’s getting ready to stand when he glances across the bar, seemingly remembering about his partner. or not partner. you’re not quite sure. “my brother, dean,” he explains simply when he catches your gaze on the other man. “i should tell him where i’m going.”

“okay,” you nod, filing the new information away in your mind and watching him weave between tables and flirting couples to reach his brother. the exchange is a bit funny to watch. at first dean looks annoyed at being interrupted by sam. then he glances at you with a sly smirk and makes some comment that is probably less than appropriate judging from his expression. and then his face morphs into one of surprise before it’s taken over by a smile. he claps sam on the shoulder and sends him off. you almost miss the look that dean gives you as sam heads back towards you because you’re so focused on the sweet smile that sam’s now wearing. you only catch dean’s look for a second before sam is back at your side. it’s easy to assume dean as the older brother, with his eyes on you being protective, proud, careful, and happy all at once. and they’re close enough that sam told him about you right away.

walking home with sam at your side is both completely strange and familiar all at once. it’s strange for a number of reasons, the main being that you’d never invite any other unknown man to your apartment, especially not one with a cryptic identity and such an imposing build. and yet, you’re not afraid or worried because of how familiar and safe it feels. it feels familiar because it feels right, it feels like exactly what you should be doing.

on the way over, he asks about you a little bit, trying not to overwhelm you with questions or seem overbearing with how eager he is to hear what you have to say. his kindness and carefulness are clear to you, and you love it. you answer happily, despite knowing he’s partially asking to avoid talking about himself until you settle down.

once inside, sam follows you right to the couch in the living room, sitting when you motion towards it and plop down into a chair across from him. he takes in the space, eyes roaming over your furniture, decor, and every little detail. he wants to know about you, just like you do him.

“it’s really nice in here,” he compliments, sounding so sincere that it’s just sweet.

“thank you,” you respond softly, wondering exactly what parts of the room he likes. you let him look around a second or two more before speaking again. “so… can i ask? you know, about it all, i guess? about you?”

he doesn’t say it aloud, but he thinks the way that you ask is so lovely. half of him wants to make up some silly, somewhat believable explanation to spare you the truth, but he knows that would never work out well. not if you choose to stay together in some way or another. already, that’s what he wants. he doesn’t doubt that you’re indeed his soulmate, the one who he’s been sharing wounds and flowers with for as long as he can remember. sam has both yearned for and dreaded this moment. he tries not to be obvious about it or over do it, but he’s sort of a total romantic. he’s had doubts about how this whole idea of soulmates could really be real or make much sense, but those thoughts are eased with each moment he spends with you. he still wants to get to know you before he does anything with you, but the way that he wants to get to know you is something he’s never felt before. it’s undeniably special.

the dread is because he’s known ever since he got back into hunting that he’d never be able to hide the truth of his world from you. he has no idea how he’s going to get to you to believe him or convince you that he’s not completely insane, but he’s going to tell you the truth anyway. even if you do believe him, he wants to give you a choice. you shouldn’t have to get involved with this life in any way at all if you don’t want to. he’d never force you to try things with him if it’s too strange or too scary or hard or anything. and already, he knows that he’ll never stop thinking about you if you do choose to stay away, but he also knows that he’d never try to change your mind or force you to do anything else other than exactly what you want.

“of course you can ask,” he responds, matching the softness of your own voice. “i, um– i’m honestly not quite sure how to say all of this without sounding totally crazy, and i completely understand that, but just– try to bear with me, i guess. and if you need proof, which i also understand, i’ll do my best to get it for you, it’s just– sort of hard.”

honestly, you’re wildly confused as to what the hell he could possibly say that would make him this anxious. it worries you a little bit too. you don’t want him to feel afraid to tell you anything at all. so, you nod at him in encouragement, trying not to seem nervous yourself.

“my brother and i, we– we hunt monsters. real ones. ghosts, vampires, demons, the works. they’re all real. your coworkers who died, they were– they were killed by an angry spirit. we got rid of it last night,” he says those words like they’re a ten ton weight off of his chest, but he’s still got another ten sitting there as he awaits your response. he looks at you so carefully, trying to gauge any sort of reaction.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, and probably disbelief and a million other things. “angry spirit? like a ghost?” you’re not sure why that’s the first question that slips out, but you suppose it’s an easier one than are you insane? or what the hell are you talking about?

he nods his head carefully, like he’s waiting for you to freak out or call him crazy and tell him to go. “yeah. the ghost, she had died there, near the bathrooms where you felt the cold spot, in the 90s. she was triggered to kill when the man suspected of her murder was granted parole.”

“okay,” you breathe out, sort of nervously. the craziest thing is that you don’t disbelieve him. you’re not convinced by any stretch, but when you look him in the eye and listen close to his voice, there’s nothing but sincerity there. “i mean… that is sort of a kinda crazy thing to say,” you begin, “but i’ve always sort of believed in ghosts, so i don’t think you’re completely, you know, insane.” you laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood a little. you don’t want him to stress, however unbelievable his words are. “the rest is a bit… shaky, i guess. it’s a hard thing to believe, i mean… vampires. and– and demons. it’s a lot. and honestly, i’m not sure how much i’ll really, truly believe until i see, i don’t know, something, i guess,” you admit, “but… but i don’t think you’re lying to me either.”

“thank you for that,” he says, voice as sincere as ever, “and i completely understand. honestly, part of me didn’t want to tell you at all, but… it’s sort of my whole entire life at this point and it wouldn’t be fair to hide from you. or– or to not give you a choice right off the bat of whether or not you wanted to be involved. it’s– it’s a lot and it’s dangerous. and if it’s what you want, i promise i’ll try to find a way to prove it to you, it’s just… hard to do that without putting you in danger. and i really don’t want to put you in danger.”

“that’s sweet, sam,” you say, not really bothering to hide the way you feel. “i’m not, you know, eager to meet any monsters anytime soon, but whenever it’s… the least dangerous, i guess, you can show me. until then… i’ll just trust you. and in the meantime maybe we can sort of just get to know each other?” you suggest, surprising yourself with how ready you are to trust him on this.

sam smiles at you sweetly. “that sounds perfect to me. i just– i don’t want to force you into something you don’t want for yourself. i live out of crappy motels and my brother’s car while hunting monsters that shouldn’t be real. i’m just… i’m sorry i’m not someone easier.”

you smile at him sort of sadly. “that’s not your fault, sam. i never asked for someone ‘easy’ anyway. just someone kind and respectful and you seem to be just that so far. besides, there’s gotta be a reason, right? that… we’re soulmates. honestly, if you were anyone else i wouldn’t trust you like this. an–and it’s not like i’m trusting you blindly because of something that we’re supposed to be. we just met. i’m only trusting you because it feels right to. and this whole soulmate thing never made too much sense to me until i met you. now it sort of does, because this feels right so far. at least, it does to me.”

“it feels right to me too,” he quickly assures, not wanting for you to misunderstand that for a second.

⟢⟢⟢

as two people who aren’t quite ready to jump into such a committed relationship with completely different lives, it’s a little bit strange to be soulmates. and yet, nothing about it is anything but honey-sweet to you. the night you met as soulmates for the first time, you ended up talking for hours. all you had to do was sort of ignore the huge and slightly unbelievable bomb he dropped on you within the first hour of talking. oddly enough, that was sort of easy. you learned that sam’s appetite for knowledge is just about insatiable, including when it comes to knowing about you.

he had words rolling off of your tongue, asking the best, most interesting questions and providing such sincere and in-depth responses. that night, he was just lovely, and that’s pretty much all he’s been since. he’s this adorable mix of confident and shy, awkward and knowing just the right thing to say. and he’s incredibly smart, an almost stanford pre-law graduate who was headed for bigger things before he was pulled back into hunting a little over two years ago. this explains the difference in all his injuries from the past two years versus the three beforehand. secretly, you mourn for the life that he, and subsequently you, might have had, but only because he gets a little wistful every time he talks about stanford.

mostly, you talk on the phone, only stopping late in the night when one of you catches the other yawning. he seems to sleep so little, yet he lives such a tiring life. you almost always seem to be the one who gets too tired first. one night, you fell asleep to his voice, and since then, you feel like it’s the single best way to drift into dreams.

sam tries to avoid the topic of the supernatural, but you ask him about it anyway. as you get used to the idea of monsters being real, you find yourself wanting to understand it all better. you want to understand him better. and you don’t want him to feel like he has to hide the biggest parts of his life from you or for him to have trouble fitting you into his world.

he always answers your questions, omitting any extreme gore or death, but it doesn’t take long for you to realize how many people he really saves. that’s his life; saving people.

it takes three weeks for you to see him again since the first night, and three more plus a whole lot of convincing on your end for him to bring you on a hunt with him. he tries to hide it, but he’s so worried for you, despite all the reassurances he’s made that this particular ghost isn’t really all that violent or dangerous. by now, you’ve already come to mostly believe all that he's told you, but to see it in real life is still the final confirmation that you need to be fully convinced.

sam keeps you by his side the whole time, one hand on you every moment that he can afford it. the second the ghost appears, he blasts it with a salt round from his shotgun, and he thinks he could cry when you flinch at the loud noise. yet, he feels comforted that you don’t seem all too scared. and strangely, you really aren’t. sam easily makes you feel safe. luckily, the next time the ghost appears, it bursts into flames moments later thanks to dean burning the bones.

the moment it’s gone, sam drops the gun to the ground and turns to you, accidentally ruining the now unnecessary salt line around you in his rush to check on you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, a hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek as he looks you up and down.

“i’m alright, sam,” you reassure. it’s true that you’re a little shaky, and just the tiniest bit scared, but to have your confirmation and sam by your side is much more important to you.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes anyway, pulling you into a hug that’s more for his peace of mind than yours. of course, you don’t complain, easily finding his arms to be your new favorite place in the world.

oddly enough, taking it almost slow works well. he kisses you the next time he sees you, a week and a half later, and you’ve never wanted anything more than to have him keep kissing you, over and over again. he just feels like yours and you feel like his and you’ve barely known him for long, but when he kisses you it’s like there’s stars hung from the ceiling and flowers made from nothing but love and healing growing all over you. when he kisses you it’s sunlight and moonglow bottled up and mixed with sweet, pure maple syrup. his lips on yours feel like lucky four leaf clovers, like it’s possible to taste heaven on someone else’s tongue.

and though it mostly works for him to just visit as often as he can, which sometimes isn’t often at all, and to call him at every moment you can, the yearning only grows. you swear that you’re addicted to his lips, to his big hands cupping your jaw all gentle and sweet or his bulky arms boxing you in as he kisses you so hard that you melt right into the sheets.

and some nights, though he tries to hide it, you can hear him struggling with what seems to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. his job is anything but easy or fruitful. before, you thought that you might worry less when you found out exactly why your soulmate was getting injured so often, but now every time new blooms appear on your skin, you spend all day fretting until you can get him on the phone to make sure he’s alright.

you suppose he gets just as worried as you, despite the fact that you’re never in nearly as much danger as he is. a week ago, a jagged edge on a metal wire fence snagged at your skin, drawing a very shallow, but long line of blood down your forearm. seconds later, you had a frantic sam on the phone, so worried about all the little blue flowers on his arm.

it’s not as hard as he thinks for you to tell how much fear and worry he lives in. you know that he doesn’t tell you the half of it sometimes, even when you ask. all you want is to have him a little closer, to be there for him and provide the sort of comfort that you’re sure he’s never really had before. and though he’s told you that having you to talk to, so receptive and encouraging for him, has been a complete blessing, you still wish for more. you want his arms enveloping you and his lips on yours and his warm body in your bed. really, you just miss him. all the time.

⟢⟢⟢

tonight is one of the glorious nights that you get to have him with you. his broad frame takes up so much space in your bed, and you love it more than just about anything. he props himself up on one elbow and you mirror his pose as you let your eyes roam over each other’s features and take turns rambling about every little thing from this past week. unable to resist, sam kisses you often. he just leans over, swiftly closing the small space between you and pressing his lips to yours. he looks so beautiful like this; at peace, his shirtless body and protective tattoo framed all prettily by clean white sheets.

eventually, comforting words turn into a comforting silence, and you drop your head to your pillow. your eyes droop a little as you play with the idea letting a few more words slip from your tongue. you want to say something to him, but you can’t tell if it’s the right time.

sam settles on his pillow, just like you. “what is it?” he whispers, inviting and respectful. his voice tells you that you’re welcome to say whatever you’re thinking about, but that it’s okay if you don’t want to quite yet.

you smile a little at how well he’s able to read you. since he asked so sweetly, you say it. “i can’t be away from you, sam. i love you, i really do.” this isn’t the first time you’ve said the three special words to each other, but his eyes grow infinitely softer than they were before each time you do.

this time, his eyes do soften, but he cringes a little too, because he feels sorry and because he feels the same exact way. “i can’t make you live like i do. i love you, too, so much. and i hate being away from you, but this? this life, it– it’s sort of awful, and it’s dangerous and hard and–”

you swiftly cut him off with a kiss that he more than willingly melts into. “i know,” you whisper against his lips, barely moving from him to speak. “but– but what if we tried something else? you still go on your hunts and all that, but you and dean can stay here in between. there’s this cabin in the woods i’ve been eyeing, it’s sort of small but it’s isolated and we could ward it. i’ve been looking into protection and warding spells, and i think we could make it work… only, you know, if you wa–”

this time he’s the one to cut you off with a kiss, passionate and sweet all at once. when your lips part, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours like he can’t bear to be any further from you.

“i want to,” he says, voice so sure and sturdy. “i really want to… but how’re we gonna get the house? it’s not like me or dean can buy property, and i can’t make you–”

“i want to,” you echo his words, just as sincerely. “please, sam, let me do this. i’ve been saving money for a long time and it’s a little run down so it’s not too expensive. and i’m getting sick of this apartment.”

“you’re gonna live there?” he asks, not bothering to hide his hope and sparkling joy at that idea.

you grin. “of course. there’s three bedrooms and it’s so pretty and i can’t, you know, pay for that and the apartment at the same time. and i– i wanna be there every time you get home.”

that word gets to him. sam doesn’t really have a solid or normal concept of home—the closest thing he has is the impala. but it sounds so right when it comes out of your mouth. “and– and you’re okay with that?” he asks, still needing to be reassured, “you said it was isolated, and–”

“i’m sure, sam,” you emphasize, “it’s only 20 minutes from town and the roads to and from are never busy. i’ve always wanted to live in the woods, i swear. and if it meant i could be with you more, i’d never ever say no to this. please… can we talk to dean about it?”

“yes,” he gushes. “yes, of course, i– you’re amazing.” he seals the deal with a firm, giddy kiss. “and if dean says he doesn’t like the idea, i don’t care. i’m gonna do this with you.” another kiss and your heart softens infinitely. “besides, he loves the pie from the bakery on morrison street, which means he can’t say no.” he gives you another kiss and pulls away again, and you know that he’s bound to keep rambling if you let him, so you wrap an arm around his neck and thread your fingers through his soft, pretty hair. then you kiss him hard until he can’t breathe. he returns the favor by tenfold, whispering through labored breath how much he loves you and wants you and thinks that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

429 notes · View notes

yourimagines · 3 months

Note

Reader x Kylian Mbappé?

He broke his nose and the reader is a little bit concerned about it

Fluff?

I’m so in love with him 😍

Broken bones

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Swearing, Blood, Angst and fluff

Y/N POV

Kylian was excited for their first match of the euro championship. “I want you to have fun amour.” Kylian walked up and wrapped his arms around me, as I was fixing my hair. “I will root for you my love, just win the first game please.” He smiled and placed a few kisses down on my shoulder as he was looking at me through the mirror. “I try my best for you.”

Kylian was in the locker room with the others of the French team, I was walking to my seat with some snacks in my arms. “Hello miss Y/L/N.” A few fans said as I passed them by. “Hello.” I smiled at them and sat down in my seat. “Good to see you here y/n.” A few girlfriends from the other players were also here. “It is, I’m happy to be here today.” I gave them a kind smile and tried to stay calm, as I was the new wag in the group. “Good, Kylian loves you, he’s a very private man.”

The game has begun and the whole stadium was packed, they were singing, shouting and just having fun. I was watching the game on my own as the others were talking about their life problems. “Come on Kylian.” I mumbled as they lost the ball again. “Y/n, you’re ready for your man’s frustrations.” They joked as they saw me looking intensely at the game as Wöber scored their first goal. I accidentally ignored them and jumped up from happiness as the first goal was scored by France. “Yes! Let’s go!” They all giggled as they saw me standing and clapping for the team. I sat back down and looked at them. “I’m sorry what did you say?” I said with a sheepish smile on my face as I skipped their question. “Nothing.” They smiled at me and went back to their conversation.

The game was okay, nothing to be excited about. Kylian was getting a bit more aggressive in the way he played his game, trying to get the ball. “Come on Kylian.” I whispered to myself as he was running fast over the field. He was closed but got hit in his face, touching his nose. “Oh my god.” I clasped my hands over my mouth as I saw blood was pouring out his nose. “Oh my, he’s hurt.” They all looked at me as Kylian walked back into the field, sitting down on the grass. “He’s okay y/n, I think he only broke his nose.”

Someone from the team got to me and guided me to the locker rooms. Kylian was sitting on a bench as people were talking next to him about taking him to the hospital. “Kylian.” I said as I walked over to him, he looked up and tried to smile as he was holding a tissue against his nose. “Mon Amour.” He was in pain, his nose was crooked to the side. He stood up and I carefully gave him a hug. “Are you okay?” He hummed softly. “I’m going to the hospital right now, you don’t have to come with me amour if you don’t want too, they can bring you to our hotel.” He was concerned about me, I shook my head. “No, I want to come, Kylian you’re hurt.” My hand went over his chest as he painfully nodded. “Okay okay, you can come with me.”

I was a bit afraid, his nose was broken and he was on painkillers. “They won’t operate me right now, if they do I’m out of the selection.” He was tired and a little bit frustrated. “Why does this happen right now huh?” He sits down on our bed and rubs his neck. “I don’t know why but I know you’ll get through this.” I stood between his legs and laid my hands on both of his shoulders. “We get through this amour.” He moved his hands over to my hips, pulling me closer. “You’re in this as well, if you like it or not.” Our lips almost touched each other and I let out a giggle. “Okay, I’m sorry. We get through this.”

Kylian was looking at his phone, a smile was on his face. “Elle est parfaite.” He mumbled to his phone. “Who is perfect?” My French wasn’t the best but I finally started to understand a little bit. He looked up and smiled adorable at me. “You are mon cheri.” I shook my head as my cheeks warmed up. “Yes you are, look.” He turned his phone to me. A TikTok video was playing, it was about me. “Look how you cheered at us, baby they all love you.” I shyly hide my face with my hands. “Non, Ne me cache pas ton visage, mon amour.” He gently grabbed my hands and pulled them away, closer to his face and gently pressed some soft kisses on them. “You’re perfect, I love you, the fans love you.”

Kylian POV

She was blushing hard as I was praising her, about how perfect she was and that I love her. “Kylian…” she shyly said as I pulled her onto my lap. “You are so beautiful, never change baby.” I pressed a few kisses on her cheeks as she started to giggle. “Promise me.” She was looking at me with her beautiful eyes. “I promise if you promise it as well.” I smiled again and gently pressed a kiss on her sweet lips. “Je promets mon amour.” She smiled and softly kissed me back. “I promise.” She whispered against my lips.

She was laughing about a meme she saw on the internet. “That would be so funny.” Her eyes were filled with tears as her stomach began to hurt. “The turtle mask?” I asked her, she nods as she turned her phone towards me. “I can’t wear that, it’s against the regulations.” She wiped away her tears and moved closer to me. “I know, it’s just funny….” I hummed and gently placed her phone down. “I have a turtle mask at home, I can wear that for you.” She shook her head and gently placed a kiss on my cheek. “No, I like your face.” I let out a small laugh and kissed her gently on her lips. “I like your face too.”

She was still worried about me, she was happy that I wasn’t playing against the Netherlands. “Baby I’m okay, the painkillers are doing their job.” She was gently rubbing my shoulders as I sat down on our bed. “I know but….its broken Kylian.” She was clearly upset and it was upsetting me. “Mon amour, please. I’m okay.” I carefully touched my nose, she immediately pulled my hand away. “Don’t touched it, what if you accidentally moved it back out of his place, making it all crooked again.” I laughed and shook my head. “That’s not going to happen, I only touched my skin.” She shook her head and pouted at me. “Mon amour, stop. It makes me upset as well. I’m okay.” I grabbed her by her hands and pulled her into my lap. “Hey, I’m okay. Please don’t be upset. Ça me fait mal de te voir comme ça.” She laid her head down on my shoulder, kissing softly my neck. “I’m sorry, Je t’aime Kylian.” I smiled and tilted my head to side, placed a kiss on her lips. “Je t’aime mon cheri.”

201 notes · View notes

slvthrs · 1 year

Text

SWEET REVENGE AND GUITAR STRINGS | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your ex-boyfriend decided to cheat on you- the sane course of action was sleeping with his enemy

ROCKSTAR!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise n degradation kink, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), dressing room sex, slight violence and blood, blood kink if u squint

word count: 2.2k <3

Wrath.

Not even anger or rage- it was pure fucking red wrath. Your boyfriend of 2 years was cheating on you. He had the fucking audacity to cheat on you, and try to hide it.

God did you want to kill him.

Your bestfriend Elle had sent you a video of him making out with some rando chick at a party and then taking her into a room to obviously have sex. You weren’t even sad, you just wanted to hurt him.

It was 3 days after you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you and the wrath hadn’t gone away. You’ve been ignoring every text, every message, every call- he was going to be so pissed. You were doing a pretty good job of not running into him but today he had a gig and you would have to end up going.

You and Elle were sitting on your bed in your underwear and bra eating a huge assortment of candy and snacks while re-watching Sex Education.

“Wait have you confronted Theo about cheating on you yet” Elle asked with a lollipop between her lips

You groaned you wanted to but every time you thought about it all you could do was want to punch him “I wanted to trust me but I just wanna hurt him y’know I don’t need his half-assed apology”

“Wait so why don’t you just ditch his gig” Elle inquired

“I would but imagine your girlfriend just ditches you with an explanation because remember he doesn’t know I know he cheated on me” You threw your head back- it was gonna be really hard to get him back

“Hmm does he have like y’know enemies that you can y’know… fuck” Elle suggested

“Elle we’re not in a wattpad fan-fic, Theo doesn’t have enemies per say” You rolled your eyes… but he did have someone who pissed him off to no end

You shot up with a plan in mind, “But he does have someone he kinda hates” You said while you carding through your closet trying to find an outfit

“Oooh who” Elle sat up like a curious dog

“Vinnie” The name was met with a huff from Elle

Vincent Cole Hacker, lead guitarist and singer of his band and adored by girls all over the country.

His killer style mixed with his rough hair and piercings accompanied with the rings he adorned on each hand which trailed across his guitar with so much purpose you couldn’t help but think what else they could do.

The same Vinnie Theo hated, and the same Vinnie who could never take his eyes off you.

“Babe you're super hot but I’ve legit never seen Vinnie without his army of girls following him, are you sure he’s the one?” Elle probes and she's right Vinnie’s a chick magnet, you’d be lucky to find him alone, but Elle was also right about the fact you were hot, the way your hair sat, framing your face and the way you would bite your fingers, and look up at guys, batting your eyelashes and giggling- toying with their feelings- you had boys begging for you.

But Vinnie was the one you wanted.

“I know, I know, but I have a plan trust me”

You didn’t have a plan

All you knew was that Vinnie stared at you for far too long to be considered platonic, and no sane guy would give up a chance to hook up with you.

After about 2 hours, you and Elle were ready. She was wearing a denim skirt with a pink tank top and pink converse adorned with little accessories, while you were wearing a black cropped top with Dominic Fike embroidered on without a bra so you could see your nipples poking through the fabric. Paired with a black mini-skirt and pantyhose which looked like it was attacked by an army of cats and a pair of platforms with some other accessories here and there- you looked enchanting.

The pair of you got there around 30 minutes later and broke off, with Elle waking to the bar to get some drinks and you trying to find your cheating ass boyfriend.

The bass of all the people walking around made you want to turn on your heel and walk away. You had endured it for the sake of your boyfriend but now the air was filled with venom rather than admiration.

“There she is, hi baby” It sounded so goddamn awful coming from your boyfriends mouth but you had to play the part of the oblivious girlfriend for a little longer

“Hi Theo” You say with the only respect you have for him left and kiss his cheek

As he continues his conversation with his bandmates you zone out and look around while drinking some fruity drink his bandmates gave you. As you looked around you caught the addictive eyes of your target, Vinnie, and unsurprisingly he was checking you out, who wouldn't tbh.

As your staring competition played out you were quickly brought back to reality by your boyfriend telling you they were about to go on stage.

“Hey babe can I talk to you for a sec?” You asked and he went along with it, presumably thinking he was about to get some last minute action.

“Yeah baby, what do you want?” He asked, so fucking oblivious to what was about to happen.

“Who the fuck is this chick your making out with in this video” You said while playing out the video on your phone.

His mouth hung agape, this cunt thought he could have the audacity to be shocked.

“B-babe I don’t know what that is, I-I’m pretty sure I was like sure drunk” Seriously, the ‘I was drunk’ excuse?

He can do better than that.

“Are you fucking serious, I’ve been drunk plenty of times and I’ve never fucking cheated on you” Every gross and terrible emotion was bubbling up from inside you as you were about to overflow

“I-it doesn’t even matter I just kissed her your fucking overreacting!” Overreacting, this fucking bitch thinks I’m over reacting

With gritted teeth you said “Oh I’m overreacting? I’m fucking overreacting, well you wanna see overreacting?”

You didn’t even register what your body was doing before,

SNAP!

Fuck, your hand made contact with his face and there was a stream of red trickling down his nose while your knuckles were bruising up.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH” He yelled pushing you up against the wall, while his blood spilled on to your chest

On any other day you wouldn’t have been able to push him off but with the immense amount of rage mixed with adrenaline you were feeling you pushed him to the ground, with your head spinning you ran off into another room trying to catch your breath.

As you finally stood up from your hunched over position and walked over to the mirror in the room- shit my shirt has blood on it, I look like I killed someone

You try to get some tissues to take the blood off but it’s no use the blood is congealed and staining your white shirt so you grab a closed water bottle and try to figure out what dressing room you're in.

You hand slides across a red leather couch with stains and find a stack of polaroids.

As you shuffled through them you see a drummer and bassists clearly drunk and passed out on a sofa, in another one you can see a brunette making a face and flipping off the camera, and in the final one its a group photo 4 boys playing a song in front of a smaller audience- in the photo you spot a particular face- Vinnie.

And as fate has been so kind the tall blonde walks into the room as if on cue, “Oh shit, what are you doing here?”

But before you you can answer his eyes widen and he walks towards you, “Fuck are you okay” He says with knitted eyebrows as his hand hesitantly swiping the blood of your shirt.

“Yeah, it's not my blood” You say with a smile as you try to reassure him, but which only leads him to look at you, even wider eyed.

“It’s Theo’s” You continue as you sit down on the red sofa, “He kinda cheated on me so y’know he deserved it”

You play with your hands in your lap as you look up at Vinnie who's now sitting next to you with an unreadable expression.

“Well he fucking deserved it then” He says breaking the silence as you look up to meet his gaze, “If you we’re my girl, I’d cut my balls of before cheating on you”

You let out an obnoxious laugh while he follows you, “I’m serious though I would never do that, your to fucking hot for that.”

“Yeah yeah” You breathe out as you tip your head back on the sofa as you let Vinnie’s eyes rake over your body, huffing your chest so your tits press against your shirt, watching how he bites his lips.

“So any plans now that you're single” He was obviously trying to hint at you, so you played along.

“I dunno Vinnie, do you have any ideas for me?” You said sliding across the sofa, closer to the blonde boy

He hands trail over the blood on your shirt, staining his fingers and dragging his hand onto your jawline pulling your face up to his, so close but so fucking far, “I have a few ideas”

“Yeah”, You breathe out, “Show me”

Both of your lips interlock at a slow pace at first until he pulls your face away from him to breathe but his gaze drops to your spit covered lips and flushed out look before he smashes them up together for the second time and pulls you onto straddle his lap.

“God every fucking time I saw you with that prick I wanted to kill myself.” He confessed, letting his hands graze up your sides pulling your top off.

All you do in response is giggle whilst you tip your head back so he can lay a trail of saccharine sweet kisses from the base of your neck down to your tits. Your hands scratch his shoulders, bawling his shirt in your first hoping he’ll take it off.

And if Gods looking out for you, he pulls his shirt of ruffling if his hair and goes back to attack your chest with love bites, your hands reach to the back of his head grabbing a tuft of his hair as you throw your head back and moan as his teeth catch your nipples in his mouth.

“Vinnie, fuck oh my god” You moaned out, his hands moved to flip up your skirt and fondling your ass while you grind down on his hardened dick, then he takes shuffles around with his belt pulling it of and tossing it on the ground keeping you too connected with the bloody kisses falling from your lips on to his tan skin.

“Whenever he kissed you, touched you, my skin felt like it was on fucking fire,” He pulls of his pants with one swift motion as they fall to the ground with a light, airy thud, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you, your too hot for him,”

You pull off of him to stare into his eyes, “Vinnie, I adore you, but if you bring up my ex one more damn time while we're about to have sex I’m getting up and leaving” You say will as emotionless of a face you can pull.

He airs out a breathy laugh but rather than replying he flips the two of you over onto the sofa and rips your skirt of, “Yes ma’am,” He starts, “But we both know your not leaving to go anywhere”

He looks for a condom but I stop him, “I’m on birth control and your clean, don’t worry”, you say with the most poise you can muster whilst your under a 6 foot man

With his new found confidence, he lines up your entrance with his dick, carefully sliding in, going gently through your folds whilst you arch into the motion gasping out for him,

As your hands hook around his head to pull both of you into a kiss, he sets a ruthless pace, pounding into you like his life depends on it but not letting you relish a single moment of freedom.

He doesn’t stop for a second, not letting you rest whilst the entire room echos with sounds of skin slapping and it doesn’t stop, turning the melody of your skins coming in contact and the rhythm of your synched breathless moans turns the room into a orchestra of pleasure and carnal desire as both of you chase your release.

And it’s not far, you cum first with a loud moan and arching your back with your mouth in an ‘O’ shape and he’s not far behind cumming in you and dropping down on to you to place more hickeys all over you and claim you even more as his.

They say revenge is an act of passion, and while you're laying there, breath panting, legs sore and your ex-boyfriends biggest rival laying on top of you rubbing circles into your skin… you can’t help but think they're right, because what’s a bigger act of passion than sex? And what’s a bigger form of revenge than betrayal? And the best betrayal is the sight of your ex-boyfriend watching you limp out of a dressing room with your hair and makeup messed up whilst his rival follows behind you in an even worse state.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #bella's full works

432 notes · View notes