#i really love this location i know shes dangerous but i would love to go to her spa so so bad the description is gorgeous

[tethysea]

c.c.'s spa and resort - sea of monsters credits: 🏵.🏵.🏵 🏵.🏵.🏵 🏵.🏵.🏵

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Pixar did not have to go as hard as they did with the Kronos Unveiled scene in The Incredibles (2004), yet they did anyway and gave us one of the best scenes in modern cinema. Literally cannot stop thinking about how good this scene is, from the animation to the build up to the soundtrack.

I don’t think I truly understood how dark this scene - and this film - was a child: Syndrome is systematically and strategically luring in superheroes and killing them off in order to test and improve his Omnidroid design… these people were not only supers but they also had family and loved ones too, just like Bob, and one day they would have just disappeared because chances are they weren’t telling people where they were going because it was "top secret" and against the law. They thought they were doing something good, like helping the people in the island, while also getting to relive their glory days, perhaps even paving the way for superheroes to make a proper comeback… only for Syndrome to kill them in cold blood.

Most of these people can actually be seen at Bob and Helen’s wedding in the beginning of the film - they weren’t just random supers, they were their friends, people they worked alongside and cared about. It’s even worse when you realise that Bob probably blames himself because, after all, Buddy/Syndrome was his biggest fan and he dismissed him by not letting him help.

The relief on Bob’s face when he realises Syndrome doesn’t know where Helen is - meaning he also doesn’t know where their children are because he didn’t realise they were married at this point - is so realistic and gut wrenching to see. The relief contrasting with the anguish of knowing how much danger they and their entire family could have been in the entire time without even knowing...it's so well-done, you can literally feel it.

It’s also worth noting that originally the next target wasn’t Mr Incredible but Frozone - that was who Mirage was trailing, hence why his location is “known”. Imagine if she/Syndrome hadn’t realised that Mr Incredible was with him and they’d lured Frozone in instead as planned; he would have gone to the island to fight the Omnidroid 8 in a volcano setting. We saw how being in the burning building dehydrated Frozone and made it impossible to use his ice powers - presumably it would have been the same in the middle of a lava filled volcano, and he’d have been slaughtered just like the other superheroes before him.

This scene shows an entire generation of superheroes - Bob, Helen and Lucius’ generation - wiped out all because Syndrome felt slighted by his hero as a child, because he internalised that slight and let it drive him to revenge. And, if we take into account the deleted alternate opening scene, it’s mentioned that superheroes "aren't supposed to breed” - meaning there’s a likelihood that Violet, Dash and Jack-Jack are among the very few supers of the next generation. I know that it's deleted and so not really canon, but it's definitely a concept to consider, I think.

Then there's the fact Syndrome named the project "Kronos" - Kronos was a God who overthrew his own father in order to take over his rule, and then he ate his own children to prevent them doing the same thing to him. It feels like it reflects Syndrome once looking up to Mr Incredible and even saying "I could be your ward!", meaning Mr Incredible adopting or fostering him - the project name is a metaphor for Syndrome destroying the Supers, especially Mr Incredible, who he viewed as a father figure. The Omnidroids he built killed two birds with one stone: not only was he able to acquire the data to upgrade the robot to its final design, but it also eliminated the real super heroes and so left him as the last remaining "superhero", even though his powers are man-made, not something he was born with.

Not only did he want to become the only remaining superhero by killing the real ones in revenge, he also planned to sell his inventions at some point so everyone can be super - because "when everyone is super, nobody is". It's like a final blow to the memory of the superheroes he had killed.

I've talked too much about this scene but God... I love it so much more as an adult because it's just so chilling to think about. I'm sure other people can put it much more articulately than I just tried to, but I just really wanted to appreciate this scene.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

CL16 | She’s Busy

Summary: You and Charles have been friends for ages, but recently his protectiveness has reached new heights, ruining your every chance at love. It's high time you put an end to it, and you know just how.

Based on this request!

Charles x fem!Reader, friends to lovers

WC: 4.2K

Warnings: Maybe some cursing? Also, Charles shows some red flags…

Masterlist

“I can’t tonight, Cha,” Y/N told him, a small frown on her face – she knew it’d disappoint him.

“Why not? Do you have plans already?”

“No,” she lied. “I’m just really tired and I think it’s better if I stay in tonight.”

“You can stay in at my place, you’re already here. I can ditch Kika and Pierre, I can cook—”

“Charles,” Y/N protested.

“Okay, I won’t cook, we can order something and watch a movie. It’ll be so much more fun than staying in alone.” 

“I just need some alone time, okay? I’ve had a really busy week, and I just want to nap on my couch and eat ice cream. And I don’t want you to miss out on your dinner with Pierre and Kika. We can have dinner next week?” She offered as a last attempt to convince him, an awkward smile on her face.

Charles sighed. “Fine, but you’re not getting out of it!”

She nodded, slightly amused at his pouty face, before planting a quick kiss on his cheek and heading out the door. 

Y/N had known Charles for ages. They met when they were younger, still in school, and had stuck together through thick and thin. She’d been there for Charles when Jules died, when his father passed, and when he finally realised his lifelong dream of driving for Ferrari, and Charles had done the same for her. No matter how busy his life got, he was always there when Y/N needed him.

So was Pierre. Y/N had met him through Charles, as the two boys were inseparable from a young age, and she was immediately absorbed into their friendship. Pierre was incredibly accepting of her, and she quickly grew to love him just as much as Charles, even though he had moved away when they were older. It made it more difficult to maintain the friendship, especially since she didn’t see Pierre every other weekend like Charles did, but they managed.

In some situations it was good that Pierre lived in a different country; it made it more difficult for him to tell Y/N’s secrets to Charles. Now, she didn’t keep many secrets – actually, until a few months back she didn’t keep any secrets from Charles, but the change in the situation called for it.

Charles and Pierre had always been protective over Y/N, trying to keep her out of danger in any way they could. It was sweet, really, and their intentions had always been good. Besides, sometimes it was helpful; their meddling had saved her from dating a guy who was only with her for a chance at fame and to meet two Formula 1 drivers, and another boy who showed some very red flags she was blissfully oblivious to. But over the past months, Charles, who had always been worse than Pierre in this matter, started going overboard, especially when Y/N had a date.

It started off innocent enough; Charles would ask her to share her location whenever she went out with a guy, a sweet sentiment, really. After a text asking for help and, consequently, an interference from Charles, he seemed to decide it’d be better if he stuck close. And soon, Charles was always present at her dates. In the beginning, he would just hang around the location and watch the interactions from a distance. Then, watching turned into introducing himself because he “wanted to make sure if the guy’s any good”, which turned into full-on conversations and joining her dates. Frankly, it was ridiculous. He’d just grab a chair from a nearby table and join the conversation, ‘subtly’ mentioning how he’d been friends with Y/N for years, and how he’d always be her number one – “right?” 

To no one’s surprise, there wouldn’t be a second date, the poor guy would be scared shitless as Charles talked about the power he wielded in Monaco and online, not to mention, all the contacts he had. Somehow, he always knew someone from the company her dates’ worked at. More often than not, their boss, and he didn’t hesitate to mention it.

Y/N had tried to stop him, she truly had. Whenever he’d interrupted another one of her dates, and Charles would drive her home because there was no need to take a taxi when he was already there, as Charles put it, she’d ask him why he’d intimidated another one of her dates. He’d just tell her that they weren’t good enough for her, and at the glare she’d send him, he’d apologise. Y/N would know she should have pushed further than that, because the situation kept recurring, but the sad look on his face when she’d tell him off, and the puppy eyes he’d give her when he parked outside her apartment building would make her reconsider. Charles was her best friend after all, and she didn’t want to hurt him. The situation was predictable and repetitive, and she kept letting herself get fooled.

At the lack of effect her talks had, she was determined to try a different approach. That’s when Y/N decided not to tell Charles about her dates any longer. What he didn’t know wouldn’t harm him, and she could go on dates without interruptions. That didn’t mean Pierre didn’t know about them, though. With the physical distance between them and Pierre, he could keep a secret and she needed someone to talk to about her dates. And Charles’ idea of sending her location was something she wanted to keep going, just in case.

That was the plan for tonight, too. She was going on a date, and with Charles unaware and hopefully distracted by his dinner with the visiting Pierre and Kika, she’d hopefully have a normal, relaxed first date without any unusual situations. The plan had worked well enough last time, but then again, Pierre wasn’t anywhere near Charles then and God knows he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

Y/N drove home quickly from Charles’ place, hopping in the shower before she got ready for her date. She’d met the man at her regular cafe while she was grabbing her morning drink, it was a real meet cute: she’d bumped into him and spilt her tea over his white shirt. He was kind about the mishap, cute, and, most importantly, willing to take her out. 

Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror as she put on her necklace, making sure that everything was in place before she grabbed her phone. She texted Pierre her live location and asked him one last time what restaurant he was at, just to check that she was going someplace else.

The boys were already at dinner with Kika when she sent her message. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly took it out to read her message. He smiled at the text. As opposed to what Charles had just told him, that Y/N wasn’t feeling well and needed a night alone, she apparently needed to make sure her date was someplace else than where they were. It was a smart move, and he knew that she’d managed before, but to lie so blatantly to Charles, especially when Pierre had to spend the rest of the night maintaining that lie, was bold. Pierre subtly showed the message to Kika, who stifled a laugh.

You didn’t tell Charles you’re on a date? He typed back before placing his phone on the table.

Y/N’s reply was blunt: Cha doesn’t need to know.

The buzz of his phone caught Pierre’s attention, and Charles’ as well. The phone screen lit up, displaying the new message. A frown formed on Charles’ face as he read it, quickly snatching the phone from the table to make sure he read it correctly.

“What don’t I need to know?” He said, keeping the phone out of Pierre’s reach while he scrambled to get it back. What weren’t his friends telling him?

Pierre’s nerves shot up at the question and he looked at Kika for help. She jumped in without hesitation, always willing to help out her friend. “Well, Charles, she didn’t want you to know, we didn’t want you to know, that Y/N’s at home right now, working on—”

The phone pinged again, and Charles’ eyes shot from Kika’s face to phone in a split second, flitting over the new message.

You know how he gets about my dates…

Charles’ jaw tightened. “She’s on a date?” He asked lowly, “Why can’t I know she’s on a date?”

Pierre cleared his throat nervously. “Well, you do have a history of… scaring off her dates,” Pierre trails off, nervously glancing at Kika for help.

Kika nodded in agreement. She completely supported Y/N in this decision. If it’d been her, she would’ve given Charles a good telling-off months ago, but Y/N was too sweet for that. It was good that he knew the truth now; maybe he’d realise a change was needed.

“Do you know where she is? What restaurant? Or are they somewhere else?”

“Charles—”

“I know you know. Tell me.”

Pierre sighed. “Let’s just finish dinner first, and then we’ll go together, okay? Just to check the guy out from a distance,” he emphasised, hoping that was clear enough. Pierre knew Y/N wouldn’t like it, but it’d be better if he stayed with Charles. He could prevent him from doing something stupid.

Charles grumbled in agreement, quickly finishing his meal, and immediately refusing dessert when the waiter asked, before slamming some cash on the table and leaving the restaurant.

– – – – –

The two boys trailed outside the restaurant, peering inside through the window while Kika sat in the car – she refused to engage in such childish behaviours. Charles had spotted Y/N in no time. The perfectly fitted dress she was wearing, with the matching jewellery Charles had bought her a few months ago, and her hair up into a pretty updo would catch anybody’s eye. She was giggling at something the guy had said, reaching for his hand that lay still on the table until she touched it. Charles clenched his jaw so hard he feared he’d break a tooth. What was that man thinking – touching his best friend like that? Making her laugh? 

Charles scoffed before standing upright and marching right into the restaurant. He walked straight past the hostess' stand and past her table before he backed up.

“What—Y/N? What are you doing here?” He spluttered, feigning surprise at her presence. She looked up from her menu at the familiar voice, her jaw slack in surprise. How had he found out? Why hadn’t Pierre stopped him? 

He walked closer to the table. “How are you? Thought you were staying in tonight?”

“Charles,” Y/N greeted with fake enthusiasm. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Ah yes, we changed restaurants. Who is this?” He nodded to the man across from her.

“Oh, this is Tom. Tom, this is Charles. He’s a good friend of mine,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“You could say best friend. We’ve known each other for all our lives, I can’t remember a time when Y/N wasn’t there,” Charles said as he shook Tom’s hand, forcing a fake laugh out before he grabbed a chair from an empty table and sat down.

“So, how did you guys meet? I’ve never heard of you before, Tim,” Charles continued, grabbing a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

The man across from him eyed Y/N carefully. She was smiling forcefully, scratching her head as she sighed, but made no effort to get rid of Charles, so Tom smiled awkwardly at the new presence. “We met at a cafe. Also, it’s Tom.”

Charles chewed on his bread as he nodded excessively. “Hm, a cafe? Do you prefer coffee or tea?” He said before flagging a waiter down and asking for a drink.

“Charles—” Y/N tried to interrupt him, to tell him to leave, to not frighten her date, to not make himself so comfortable while he was so rudely imposing on her date. How had he even found out in the first place? 

“You know, coffee’s really not good for your health. Caffeine and such – can be addicting, give you headaches if you suddenly stop drinking it… Do you get headaches, Tim?”

“Uh—” Tom mumbled nervously while Y/N hid her face in her hands.

Charles opened his mouth to continue when Pierre slapped his hands on Charles’ shoulders. “We should go, Charles,” he told him, pushing him forward off the chair.

“I’m sure we can stay for a bit longer, right Y/N? Get to know your boyfriend for a bit?” Charles said genuinely hoping Y/N would want him to stay. Instead, she shook her head.

“Let’s go, Charles,” Pierre said forcefully, pushing his friend out of the restaurant. Charles could just barely hear the faint sounds of Y/N apologising to her date as Pierre walked him out. The apologetic tone in her voice as she told him how incredibly sorry she was her friends had interrupted – that they weren’t usually like that, that they’re just protective – almost made him feel bad, except she shouldn’t be dating random guys.

He knew it bothered her, the way he always interrupted her dates, but he just couldn’t seem to let it go. She’s his best friend, he just wanted her to be safe, to make sure the guys were good enough. And frankly, Y/N had never picked out a good guy; Charles could treat her better than every single one of them. If she’d paid attention, she’d know that too. She’d have noticed that he’d buy anything she wanted for her: clothes, jewellery (although it wasn’t intended to be worn on dates with strangers), food and drinks. He’d spend all his money on her if she’d allow it, but she didn’t. The fact that she liked him because of him and not his money, only made him want to do it more. But even besides materialistic things, he always made time for her, no matter how busy he was. He would cook for her every night if it weren’t a risk to their health, and organise movie nights, or other activities. Regardless, she never seemed to notice his attraction to her.

“What happened to watching from a distance, huh mate?” Pierre teased before getting in the car and driving the man home.

– – – – –

To say Y/N was upset would be an understatement. The incident at the date frustrated her immensely. She had told Charles, many times, that he shouldn’t interrupt her dates, yet for some reason he kept doing it – apparently, she had been too subtle. Tom was a good guy too; he was kind and respectful and seemed caring enough, and, now, because Charles had interrupted their date, he had refused a second date. He had scared off yet another one of her prospective boyfriends. The situation needed to come to an end, and apparently, not telling Charles about her dates and correcting him wasn’t good enough.

It was a few (dateless) weeks later when she had finally thought of a plan to put an end to Charles’ antics. She was staying over at her cousin’s for a few days after some heavy rainfall and water damage in her own apartment – the perfect opportunity. It had taken barely any convincing to get him to participate; as soon as she told him about the recurring issue he agreed she needed to take action.

Y/N knew Charles and Pierre were hanging out together; she’d seen the paparazzi pictures on social media, and knew that if she’d send Pierre something about being at someone else’s place, Charles would find out about it soon enough. After all, that was what happened last time as well, even though it took some time to get Pierre to admit it was his fault Charles found out about her date. So, in agreement with her cousin, she took a picture.

They were sitting on the couch, watching TV, when she posed against him, her head lying on her cousin’s chest as she smiled for the photo. His chin was just barely visible in the picture, as was his arm lying along her shoulders. Without a second thought, she sent it to Pierre, hoping her idea would work out exactly as she’d planned.

She saw Charles' status switch to online just a few seconds later. Y/N held her breath as she watched the small dots bounce at the bottom of her phone screen. Charles was typing, then stopping, then typing again, like he couldn’t decide how to start. It almost made her laugh – he was so wound up, like he thought she’d actually gone home with a stranger tonight. All she had to do now, was wait.

Finally, his message came through. Where are you?

She bit her lip to stifle her giggle. She waited a few minutes, just to let him sit in his worry, before sending back a message. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed at the text, showing it to Pierre. “What’s this? She’s busy?” He mumbled angrily while Pierre chuckled silently. Whereas Charles was too wrapped up in his worry and frustration to recognise the prank, Pierre knew immediately what was happening.

He responded. Who are you? Where’s Y/N?

He chewed on his lip as he anxiously awaited her answer. It took way too long before the message was read, and even longer before the typing bubble appeared.

Doesn’t matter. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed again. Who was this infuriating man and what was he thinking, just answering Y/N’s phone like that?

Busy with who?

She’s in good hands. Don’t worry, man.

Y/N giggled at her message while Charles gnawed at his lip. This was not good. Y/N was at some stranger’s house, nobody knew where, and the guy was in charge of her phone. This was bad, real bad. He needed to find her, to make sure she was safe.

Give her back her phone. I need to talk to her.

She’s busy.

Charles groaned in annoyance before calling her. The phone rang a few times but no one picked up.

Where’s she? I’m coming over.

Y/N giggled at her phone when she saw the text. This was too funny, and a face-to-face confrontation would make it even better. She sent him her cousin’s address, curious to see if he’d actually come over.

Not five minutes passed before a loud, rapid knock sounded at the door. Y/N’s cousin shook his head in disbelief. “You weren’t kidding. This guy is intense,” he said before opening the door.

Charles towered over the shorter man in the door opening. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, his voice dark and aggressive as he pushed his way past him. His eyes flicked around the room until they landed on her, sprawled out on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket and watching TV, seemingly completely unbothered.

“Hey, Cha. What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to keep up the innocent act.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why are you at some random guy’s house? You know that’s not safe!”

She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! This could’ve gone incredibly wrong, that guy could’ve murdered you and no one would have known where you were!”

God, he was so infuriating. Always bothering her on her dates, and now he’s yelling at her over a prank while she’s in her cousin’s house, it’s ridiculous, frankly.

“Don’t shout at me, Charles! Are you crazy?” She huffed. “You’re coming over here in a frenzy for nothing. It’s just a prank, I wanted to see how far you’d go. This is my cousin.” She pointed to the boy still standing by the door opening, who was very amused at the situation. 

Charles froze, the tension in his jaw loosening as confusion replaced his anger. His gaze darted between Y/N and her cousin, piecing together what she’d just said. “Your cousin?” he repeated, as though the words didn’t compute.

“Yes, Charles. My cousin. You know, family? Not some random murderer or creepy guy. You’ve met him before actually, at my birthday last year!” Y/N replied, her tone sharp as she threw off the blanket and stood up.

Charles’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he avoided her gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, how was I supposed to know? The photo—you didn’t say anything—”

“Exactly! That was the point!” Y/N interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. “Charles, do you even hear yourself? Do you realise how insane this is? I can’t even go on a normal date without you barging in and acting like you’re my overprotective father!”

He flinched at her words but didn’t respond immediately. Her cousin took this as his cue to leave.

“Y/N, I was just looking out for you,” Charles finally mumbled, his voice quieter now. “You don’t understand—these guys you meet—”

“No, Charles, you don’t understand!” She shot back, cutting him off again. “I don’t need you to protect me like this. I’m not a child, and you’re not my bodyguard. You’ve been ruining my dates for months, and I’ve had enough.”

Charles’s fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the words. “I’m just trying to look after you! You deserve better than these guys, Y/N!”

“Why do you even care so much?” She demanded, her voice rising. “What’s it to you if I date someone? Why do you act like you’ve got some kind of say in my love life?”

Charles’s lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. His mind raced, but the words he needed wouldn’t form. How could he explain it? How could he tell her the truth – that he cared because he couldn’t bear the thought of her being with someone else? That he’d been selfish, sabotaging her dates because the idea of her falling for someone else drove him mad? 

“Well?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer.

“I—I just…” He looked at her, the frustration and vulnerability clear in his eyes. “Because I’m in love with you, okay?”

Y/N blinked in silence, her anger evaporating as shock took its place. “What?” She whispered.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated, softer this time. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. And seeing you with other guys—it’s torture. I know I’ve gone too far, but I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Of all the things she’d expected, this wasn’t one of them. Her breath caught as she processed his words. All the pieces suddenly clicked into place; the protectiveness, the jealousy, the way he always went out of his way to make her happy. It had been in front of her the whole time, and she hadn’t seen it. “Charles, I—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, his voice full of regret. “I know I’ve been an idiot, and if you don’t feel the same, I’ll back off. I just… I’m sorry.”

“Charles,” she said softly, stepping closer to him. He looked up, searching her eyes for any indication of what she would say, of how she felt. “I wish you’d just told me sooner. Maybe then we could’ve avoided all this.”

His brows furrowed.

She smiled at his confused expression. “I mean, I like you too, I love you too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… you have?”

“Yes, you idiot,” she said, laughing softly. “Why do you think I’ve put up with all your nonsense?

Charles let out a breathless laugh, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head before running a hand over his face in frustration. “I’ve spent all this time… and I could’ve just…” he mumbled as he stared at her, trailing off in thought. kissed her, I could’ve just kissed her, he finished in his mind.

“I could’ve just…” he mumbled again, staring intently as he moved to hold her face, pulling it just a little closer. He looked into her eyes, gauging her reaction as his lips neared hers, as he could feel her short breaths on his face. She didn’t protest, didn’t show any intent to move, if anything, she came closer, brushing her lips softly against Charles’ while her eyelids fluttered closed. 

Charles couldn’t hold back any longer, pressing his lips to hers softly, hesitantly until he felt her hands slip up his chest. He could feel her fingertips pressing into his muscle as she pulled him closer, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as her fingers faintly passed the skin until they reached his hair.

It felt surreal, this was what he’d been wanting for months. He was absorbed in the moment, not noticing anything but the feeling of her, the scent of her, and the joy she gave him. In that moment it all centred around her – he realised his whole world revolved around her.

[daisywinchester]

Sights Unseen- Rafe Cameron x Reader

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader, John B x Sister! Reader

Summary: John B catches sister!Reader with her secret boyfriend, Rafe, and doesn't know how to feel about it.

Words: 1600+

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew how John B would react if he ever found out about you and Rafe. Your brother had always been protective of you—perhaps too much at times—and the idea of you, his Pogue sister, dating a Kook, especially Rafe Cameron, would send him into a fury. 

But despite all the risks and complications, you and Rafe had kept your relationship a secret. Late-night walks on the beach, quiet talks in secluded places, stolen moments when no one was watching—those were the ways you saw each other, away from the prying eyes of your brother, Sarah, or anyone else who might find out.

Your love for Rafe was deeper than you could have ever imagined. There was something about him, beyond all the chaos and anger, that made you feel seen. And, even though you knew it was dangerous, you couldn’t help but want to be with him. You both enjoyed the peace the secrecy brought, not having to worry about what others had to think. It was just you and him. You knew it was time to tell your brother, but you wanted to revel in the peace for a little bit longer.

Little did you know how soon that secret would be up.

You had gone down to the beach with Rafe, away from the house. The day was warm, and the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. You were sitting together against a tree at the edge of the yard you thought was out of sight, laughing about something silly that had happened earlier in the day.  

Your head rested against his shoulder as you shared stories, enjoying each other’s company in the quiet serenity of the late afternoon. You didn’t notice the figure watching you both from a distance, a figure you thought wasn’t going to be around the house until much later.

John B had been looking for you since you weren’t in the house and your phone’s location was around. He figured you had gone to the pier to watch the sunset, but hadn’t expected to find you here, especially who you were here with. When he saw you and Rafe, his stomach twisted with disbelief. The sight of you, so comfortable and happy with Rafe Cameron of all people, sent a rush of anger through him. It was clear you hadn’t seen him, and he was unsure how to approach the situation.  

Part of him wanted to storm over, pull you away from Rafe, and yell at him—at both of you. But another part of him, deep down, knew he should wait back and talk to you about it first. He felt betrayed, but he also couldn’t help feeling a strange knot in his chest when he saw you laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way he hadn’t seen in months.  

“Sarah,” he whispered to get her attention, clenching his jaw as he spotted her walking down the dock looking for him. 

“John B, what are you doing?” Sarah asked in a hushed tone, noticing his tense posture and the fact that he was hiding behind tall grass.

“I can’t believe it. She’s with him, Sarah. She’s with Rafe,” he hissed, anger bubbling in his voice. 

“What?” Sarah’s eyes widened as she got closer to John B and looked at the pair he was pointing at. “He kept denying it but I knew he was seeing someone! I had no idea it was Y/N!”

“I need to go talk to her, to make her see reason.”  John B ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath ready to storm over there.

“No, you don’t,” Sarah said firmly, standing beside him and crossing her arms. “You’re not going to do anything rash. Let’s just take a minute and think this through.”  

“I don’t need time to think. I need to fix this,” John B shot back, but his voice softened when he looked back at you and Rafe.  

Sarah sighed. “John B, listen. I get it. I really do. Shit, he’s my brother. But this isn’t the way to handle it. Maybe you should talk to her first, before you go off on Rafe.”  

“But—”  

“No,” Sarah interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “Just… give it a day. Talk to her when she’s back and you calm down a bit. Just let it be for now.”  

John B hesitated. He wanted to protect you, but he also wanted to understand what was going on. For now, he decided to take Sarah’s advice, but he wasn’t giving up. This wasn’t over.  

---

That night, John B couldn’t sleep. He lay in his bed, tossing and turning, the image of you laughing with Rafe haunting him. The joy in your eyes had shaken him to his core. He hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time—since before Dad went missing. The weight of that memory was always there, a constant reminder of how much your family had lost. He had thought that, maybe, if he kept you close, protected you from people like Rafe, you’d find some sense of stability. But now, with Rafe in the picture, everything felt off balance.

He needed to talk to you. To figure this out.

Slipping out of bed, he made his way down the hallway toward your room, but when he opened the door, his heart sank. Your bed was empty. The room was dark, but the window was cracked open, letting in the cool night air. He knew where you were.

John B headed down to the treeline, where he had seen you earlier, moving quietly through the dark. He could hear the sound of your voice, but the closer he got, the more he realized what was happening.  

He stopped, ducking behind a nearby tree to stay hidden. You and Rafe were talking softly, the dim light from the house casting long shadows on the edge of the nearest end of  the dock where you were sitting now. He could hear snippets of your conversation, but he wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

You laughed. The sound was light, genuine, carefree, something John B hadn’t heard from you in so long. Of course you still laugh, but hearing the old, heartfelt laugh again brought over a wave of emotion. He froze, watching from the shadows, his heart aching.  

He watched as Rafe leaned in, his voice low, and for a moment, he was struck by how tender Rafe was with you. The Kook who’d once seemed so cold and distant was now holding you in a way that made John B question everything he thought he knew. The way his face softened when he looked in your eyes as he so gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He couldn’t deny it—Rafe made you happy. And, for the first time in a long while, that happiness was something John B had no control over.

John B stayed hidden, watching you and Rafe interact, the jealousy and anger in his chest slowly turning into confusion. As he eavesdropped, he realized something he hadn’t before: you were different when you were with him. You were laughing, smiling, truly happy in a way that John B had been trying to make happen for months. It was as if the burden of everything that had happened—your dad’s disappearance, the constant unknowing—was finally lifted, even if just for a moment.  

John B exhaled slowly, his anger dissolving into something softer. He wanted to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he also realized that he couldn’t control everything. He couldn’t force you to be someone you weren’t. He didn’t have the right to take your happiness away just because he didn’t understand it.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N,” John B whispered to himself, his hand gripping the side of the tree he was peering past. “Even if I don’t get it.”

After a long moment of hesitation, he finally stepped out from the shadows, deciding not to interrupt. He watched you and Rafe for a while longer, knowing now that the only thing that mattered was your happiness. 

---

The next day, when John B saw you, he didn’t immediately confront you about Rafe. Instead, he pulled you aside quietly, his expression serious but softer than it had been.  

“I’m not happy about it, but I saw you with Rafe last night” he started, his voice low as your eyes widened and you gasped. He put up his hand before you could try to say anything. “I don’t like that you’re with him. There’s a lot that I don’t understand, but I get it now. Last night when I saw you with him,” he paused, and took a deep breath as if he was about to admit something to you and himself. “You were happy; a happiness that I haven’t seen in a long time. I’ve noticed lately you’ve been different, and now I know it’s because of Rafe. I don’t like the guy- I mean, hell Y/N, you picked the biggest asshole on the island? Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is you seem really happy and that’s all that matters. Just… be careful, okay?”  

You smiled, relieved, but still hesitant. “You’re not angry?”

John B shrugged, his gaze meeting yours. “I’m angry at myself for not seeing it sooner. But I just want you to be safe, Y/N. If Rafe’s really the one who makes you happy, then I can’t stand in the way of that.”  

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you gave him a tight hug. “Thank you, John B. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said softly, patting your back. “Just don’t go full Kook on me, alright?” You laughed, and John B heard that laugh again from last night, that pure, unburdened laugh. And in that moment, he knew he’d made the right decision, no matter how difficult it was.  

Because as long as you were happy, that was enough.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble III

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. SMUT. Praise. Creampie. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 5,167

A/N: someone tried to hack my account😭

[I][II]

“I knew you in another life, you had that same look in your eyes. I love you, don't act so surprised,” - Birds of a feather, Billie Eilish

Days passed and your presence had suddenly quieted down. You wouldn’t return his phone calls and it was as if you had gone MIA. Something wasn’t right.

What Leon didn’t know, it was that you had been kidnapped in your own home one night. A man broke into your house and drugged you until you were unconscious, right before retrieving your body away.

There were no traces left behind but there was only one person that could’ve done this. The Suit.

Leon was in the middle of discussing something with his men when his phone rang.

He took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, expecting to see your name, but instead, he was met with an unknown number. He felt his heart skip a beat, something wasn't right.

He stepped outside, away from his men and answered the call, "Who is this?" He asked, his voice cold and unwavering.

“Leon!” It was your voice on the other line, crying and screaming, “Please! Help me!”

“Ah, Leon Kennedy,” another man chimed in. The Suit. He chuckled darkly, the sound low and sinister, “I hope you don’t mind I took something of yours. She’s really pretty too…”

He laughed again and you kept crying in the background, begging and pleading to be set free, “Silence her, she’s giving me a headache,” The Suit said and some men taped your mouth shut.

Leon’s blood ran cold as he heard your voice on the phone, crying and pleading for him to help. And that chuckle, that distinct low tone of The Suit.

"If you touched her, I swear-" Leon’s voice was low and dangerous, his grip on the phone tightening.

He listened to you struggling, crying, begging, and it took every ounce of his self control not to burst into a million pieces. His knuckles were white from how hard his was gripping the phone.

The Suit laughed again at Leon’s words, “Touch her? You make me sound like a monster, I thought you knew better, hm?” His tone was condescending and mocking.

“This is how it’s going to go if you want your little girlfriend to stay in one piece,” he spoke darkly, “Simply come to the location I’ll send. Alone. If you show up with men, I will not hesitate to shoot her…”

“Not before having my fun with her,” even though Leon couldn’t see, The Suit was smirking. His tone was dangerous and yet amused.

Leon’s heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest. The sound of the bastard's voice mocking him, threatening you, brought a fury in his eyes that even hell would fear.

"You bastard," Leon growled, gripping the phone so tightly, he was surprised it didn’t break, "If you even think you can lay a hand on her-"

He was interrupted by a low chuckle from The Suit on the other side. "You know very well what I’m capable of. If you care for her, you’ll come to the location I tell you to. Alone."

The line disconnected after that. There was no room for arguments, it was either he obeyed or you’d be in danger, more than you already was.

You kept crying and shaking, you were tied to a chair. Your legs were tied to the legs of the chair as your wrists were tied down to the armrests. You couldn’t move and you couldn’t speak.

When Leon had finally arrived at the place The Suit had told him to go, the place was seemingly abandoned and alone. Leon entered the abandoned building, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls.

His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew this was a trap, that The Suit wanted to get to him, but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was finding you, making sure you were okay.

The sound of your faint cries sent a pang through his chest. He followed the sound, his heart clenching at the thought of what The Suit could be doing to you.

When you saw Leon, your eyes filled with more tears and you tugged at your confined arms, wanting to desperately try and reach for him.

Leon saw you there, bound to the chair, tears streaming down your face. His heart clenched at the sight of you, so vulnerable, so scared.

He rushed to your side, crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “Hey, hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “It’s going to be okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

Leon's heart broke at the sight of you crying, terrified and helpless. He knew he had to get that tape off your mouth, he had to hear your voice.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears, "I'm gonna take this tape off, okay? Just stay still for me," he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

With care, he began to slowly remove the tape from your mouth, trying to make the process as painless as possible. The tape didn’t hurt, it was very wet from your tears. You cried for a long time. When the tape was off, you looked down at him and whispered hoarsely, “I’m so scared.”

“They came one night and broke into my house, a-and then a man came from behind me and I-I don’t remember what happened but I woke up here and—“ you were whispering but your voice would break every now and then.

Leon listened to you, his heart breaking with each shaky word you spoke. The thought of someone breaking into your house, scaring you, hurting you brought a wave of anger through him. He wanted to find The Suit and make him pay.

But he pushed those thoughts aside, for now, you needed him. You needed him to comfort you, to protect you, to be there with you. He gently cupped your face in his hands once again.

"Hey, hey, shhh, it's going to be alright," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing.

You leaned into his hands as he cupped your face, his touch was gentle and for a moment you felt so safe. That was until the sound of a man echoed through the room, The Suit. The Suit was a tall man, more on the lean side compared to Leon. He had short dark hair with an overgrown stubble.

“Well, isn’t this all so romantic?” He said mockingly, “The knight in shining rescuing the damsel in distress. You really have become very unpredictable, Leon.”

Leon's back tensed as The Suit spoke. He had been so focused on you, making sure you were alright, that he had lost focus on his surroundings. He had underestimated The Suit, and it was a mistake.

The Suit stood right behind Leon’s crouching form, staring down at Leon’s back with an amused smirk, “I didn’t know you were even capable of loving. Doesn’t she know that you’re one of the country’s most notorious mafia boss?” You furrowed your brows together and looked down at Leon confused, he was in the mafia?

He felt your gaze on him, your confusion at The Suit's words. Leon clenched his jaw and looked up at The Suit, his expression cold and stoic.

"She doesn't need to know," Leon's voice was low, a hint of warning in his tone.

The Suit simply chuckled and walked over to stand behind you, staring at Leon, “She doesn’t?” He repeated in an amused tone. One of his hands then took a strand of your hair and twirled it around his finger.

“She does now,” he added mischievously with a menacing grin, “You see, little lady, the man in front of you hasn’t been all honest with you.”

He let go of your hair and stood right in front of Leon, “He’s a mafia boss who kills people and commits crimes left and right,” then he turned to look at you, “Don’t tell me you still love him,” he said mockingly.

Leon's gaze darkened. "Don't listen to him," Leon said, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't want you to know about his life, about his secrets. He didn't want you to get involved in his dark world.

The Suit let out a loud laugh, “Ha! You’ve changed Leon,” he commented as he backed away from you and walked to a table.

“Love makes people act like fools,” The Suit said as he began to walk back towards Leon, “Are you a fool Leon?” He asked rhetorically.

Leon's fists clenched as The Suit spoke, his words and laughter like nails on a chalkboard. He hated the way The Suit mocked them, trying to drive a wedge between them.

Leon's gaze darkened as he looked up at the man in front of them, "I'd do anything to protect her," he said, his voice low and defiant.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” The Suit chuckled and shook his head, “And you, woman?” He said as he turned his head to look at him, to which you grew scared.

“You’d let your little boyfriend protect you and rescue you again and again and again?” He whispered, “Do you seriously believe you’ll survive by being in his world? You’re weak.”

Leon's heart ached as The Suit began to speak to you, his words trying to sow seeds of doubt. Leon's hands balled into fists again, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was clenching them.

"Don't listen to him," Leon repeated, his voice louder and more urgent. "You're not weak, you're strong. I will always protect you."

He turned his gaze to The Suit, his expression cold and determined. "She's not weak, unlike you," he said, his voice a steely growl. You looked at Leon, his words sounded genuine and it seemed to have calmed you down a bit. But The Suit took offense to Leon’s words as his face and demeanor changed—for the worse.

“You dare insinuate that this damned woman is stronger than me? Look at her crying like a pathetic little girl!” He then took a chunk of your hair and held it up, causing you to whimper and cry.

“Yeah,” he taunted you in a whisper, his lips close to your ear that you could feel them graze against the shell, “That’s right. Cry like a little bitch. That’s what all women know what to do, cry all the damn time, huh?”

Leon had enough of this man’s offensive behavior, he swiftly stood up and with speed, his balled fist made contact with The Suit’s cheek. The Suit stumbled backwards, letting go of your hair as he went to cup his stinging cheek before glaring at Leon.

“I won’t forget this, Kennedy,” he said before he walked towards a table, picking up a gun. It was a handgun, he aimed it at Leon and quickly tried to shoot him. Only for Leon to roll away before taking out his own gun.

“You coward!” The Suit yelled in a fit of rage. His ego was being stepped on and he didn’t like it at all. To be played by his long time enemy was like a crush to his pride after all the effort he’s been trying to make himself known.

Leon said nothing and started to shoot back at The Suit, who in a cowardly attempt, called for backup. His bodyguards suddenly entered the space and surrounded the walls, guns at the ready. In any other case, this would’ve been the end to it all. But this was Leon and he doesn’t go down without a fight.

“Cute,” he muttered, “You don’t think I’ve known about your little trap?” He said to The Suit.

“No doubt about it. You seem smart enough to understand that I could ambush you and yet you’re still here,” The Suit replied.

“And you seem smart enough to know that I also don’t listen to rules,” as Leon said this, his own men barged into the room by breaking down the door. He never goes to places alone, this he knew to follow.

The Suit, for the first time, felt a hint of fear. This was something he knew all too well. This was a battle that he couldn't avoid. He’s messed around and he’s about to find out.

It all happened so fast—almost like a James Bond movie in which there is a montage of men fighting and shooting each other with badass music playing in the background. But none of that will be here. There is no System of a Down playing.

At the first sound of a gunshot, a domino effect happened and shots rang all around. Leon, in concern, ran towards you and pulled you down to the floor still on the chair. As his men defended him, he began to cut through the ties that bound you to the chair, “Cover your ears,” he whispered in your ear. Your hands moved to your ears and watched as Leon took defense over you and began to shoot at The Suit’s men.

The Suit made an escape through the back door, thinking no one would follow him as he avoided the fight. Leon, however, wasn’t dumb and he had his eyes on him. He felt a sudden wave of anger and he ran after The Suit.

As The Suit climbed up the stairs of the staircase he had run into, Leon followed closely behind attempting to shoot him with his handgun but The Suit dodged left and right as he ran up the stairs. When he pushed past the exit door, The Suit was met with a gush of wind blowing at him as he had made it to the rooftop. Essentially it was a deadend.

“You’ve been nothing but a thorn,” Leon said as he had made it to the rooftop not long after The Suit, “I’ve had enough of your games. Not only did you kill my associate–I know you have–but you also brought an innocent person into this?!”

The Suit chuckled, “I didn’t. You did. You were the one pining after her and bringing her into your chaos, I only showed her the truth that you were keeping from her.”

“That was something I should do, it wasn’t your business to meddle with!”

“Really?” The Suit smirked, “There is one thing you seemed to have forgotten about the mafia, Leon,” he said as he stepped closer to Leon, “The mafia doesn’t care about privacy. When you decided to join, you gave away your life,” he muttered lowly.

This angered Leon, “You’re right. I did give my life to this. But I’m not the idiot that’s about to give it away permanently.”

Leon brought his handgun to The Suit’s chest and without sparing a second, his finger curled on the trigger and pulled it back. The sound of a gunshot echoing in the night sky as the bullet went through The Suit’s chest. His body froze for a second and his breath hitched, The Suit looked down at his now bleeding chest, realizing what Leon had done.

“You…” The Suit whispered before he stumbled back and slipped off the edge of the rooftop. The building was seven stories tall and with his wounded chest, it was sure that he wouldn’t survive the fall. Leon went ahead to watch as The Suit’s body made contact with the street floor, a crack and a puddle of blood already forming around his body.

“You never insult my girl,” Leon muttered under his breath, not caring about The Suit’s fate.

When Leon went back to check on you and his men, there were bodies and blood everywhere. It looked like a massacre. His eyes hastily searched for you and when he saw you with a blanket around your body as you sat on the floor, he rushed towards him.

His men had won, now cleaning the area to avoid the police. He crouched in front of you, “Are you okay?” he whispered. You nodded your head and looked at him. He knew you were shocked and most likely traumatized but he was willing to help you.

“I’m fine,” you whispered back, he sighed softly, his demeanor changing and his hard expression falling off his face. It was as if you were calming him with just your presence.

“I should’ve told you sooner but I didn’t want to scare you off. It wasn’t the right time and I would’ve liked to take you on more dates and give you everything you wanted and–” his rambling got caught off when you suddenly leaned towards him and kissed him, silencing him. He was shocked and for a moment, he held his breath. When you pulled back, his ears were a deep shade of red and his lips were parted with shock.

“I… know,” you muttered, “I know. I should've been scared and should’ve run off but I just couldn’t when all you’ve done was be so kind to me.”

Leon could only stare at you, his eyes staring deeply into yours, “You know I’d never even think about hurting you, much less have some scumbag touch you. I’ll protect you with my life, I’ll give you my everything. My money, my house, my car–take it all…but don’t leave me,” he whispered. For the first time, he was being vulnerable. His walls crumbled down because of you, you made him feel something he has never felt before, something that he couldn’t put into words.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin just right under your eye, “Allow me,” he muttered before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes closed as you felt his lips, melting under his touch and you soon found yourself kissing him back. Pushing your head forward as your hands wrapped around his forearms, wanting to keep him in place right in front of you.

-

The days passed by like a breeze. The Suit’s organization crumbled after his death and Leon fought for his territory, expanding his empire even more. But, amidst these events, he never forgot to take care of you. He wanted you to move into his mansion where you’d be more protected. He took you out on dates, the ones he promised to take you on. His goal was to make you happy, to keep a smile on your face. He’s bought you gifts and his heart swelled every time you flusteredly accepted. That man was head over heels for you, you got him hooked.

“Do you want to go out today?” He asked as he turned to look at you, you who was sitting on the edge of his bed. Although you moved in, you wanted to sleep in your own bed so as to not burden him and keep your privacy. He happily obliged despite wanting to share everything with you.

You shook your head ‘no’ at him, “No,I kind of just want to stay in and have a lazy night.”

He hummed and nodded, loosening his tie before rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, “We can do that,” he said in a warm voice. You couldn’t help the slight heartbeat that skipped in your chest when you saw him like that. Something about the casually lazy look made him look even more handsome.

He went up to you and pecked your lips in a short but loving kiss, “You’re so cute,” he whispered against your lips. It didn’t take long for you to start kissing him back, your lips demanding longer kisses.

Your hands pulled his tie so he can come closer to you, your back on the bed as he gently climbed on top of you and put his hands on either side of your head to cage you in. His lips continued kissing yours, nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue met the inside of your mouth.

A quiet moan vibrated from you to him, feeling like your heart’s about to burst out of your chest. Your hands softly pressed against his chest as you pushed him back a bit, staring into his eyes. No words needed to be spoken, tonight was the night the two of you would take a step further into the relationship.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered, “Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me be yours.”

All you could do was nod, his words and his behavior all led to one thing; he felt the same about you. His lips began to attack your neck, sucking and nipping the skin at the crook of your neck as his hands lowered down to your chest. He slid his hands under your shirt, fingers itching to touch your breasts. His big hands gently and tenderly squeezed your breasts, letting a quiet growl against your neck as he relished in the feeling of your skin on his hands.

It didn’t matter if you wore a bra or not, he still loved them.

His hands then slipped lower your abdomen and into the waistband of your pants before he put one hand right between your legs. The palm of his hand pressed against your crotch area while his fingers pressed against your clothed needy cunt, earning a soft gasp from you. This brought a small smirk to his face, watching the way your eyes closed tightly and you subconsciously bit your lower lip. He loved it all.

He slid his hand under your pants and under your panties, hand itching to touch you. Upon reaching your folds, he nearly moaned when he felt how wet they were already. He brought his hand out for just a second as he sniffed his fingers and then licked them, tasting your glistening folds and his eyes rolled back.

And then he brought his hand under your panties again. His eyes remained fixed on your face as he slowly rubbed your clit with his thumb as his index finger tested the waters of gently pressing the pad of his fingertip between your lips.

When he saw how needy you were and how you bucked your hips into his hand, he inserted the index finger slowly into your cunt. As you moaned breathlessly and he groaned quietly, he felt your walls be so tight against his finger and his thoughts ran wild with the need to put his cock inside you.

“Let me warm you up, pretty girl,” he whispered as he then inserted his middle finger. Now fingering with two fingers, he knew you could take it, he’s being so slow and gentle.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he murmured against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, “Doing so good for me. My pretty girl. You look so beautiful like this.”

His other hand gently took your shirt off, wanting to see your chest once again. He dipped his head down and wrapped one breast with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipple. Your back arched, his fingers and his mouth setting your body ablaze with ecstasy.

“More,” you muttered. You felt him smirk against the other breast since he believed in treating both equally as something delicious.

“Very well, princess,” he hums quietly before he pulled his fingers out of you and sat on his knees. He slowly took his tie off and unbuttoned hit shirt, revealing the sculpted chest he had. Stretch marks adorned his pecs from gaining and losing weight, his highs and lows being portrayed in his body. A trail of hair leading down his V-line, scars added to his allure. It was as he was personally made from heaven.

He wasn’t an insecure man, he knew he was good looking but it still seemed to shock him the effect he had on you. The ends of his lips curled up ever so slightly as he watched you practically drool for him. His hands, after taking off his shirt, went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants before throwing them somewhere.

You didn’t hesitate either, your clothes were off save for your panties and he appreciated the fact you wanted him to take off your underwear and open you like a gift. Except that you weren’t a gift, you were a blessing in his eyes.

“May I?” He asked quietly as his finger curled against the waistband of your panties. You nodded and he slowly took the last article of clothing off you.

He didn’t say anything and just remained there staring deeply down at you. His eyes roamed over every detail about your body, wanting to keep this memory of your first night together forever.

The words died in his throat but the look he had said more than the dictionary could.

He began to pull his boxers down to reveal his aching and hard cock, pink at the tip with precum. His eyes never left yours as he wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the precum down his length to lubricate it. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet enough, he just didn’t want to hurt you.

“Ready?” He whispered and looked at you as he settled between your legs. The back of your thighs pressed against his thighs as his tip grazed against your wet pussy. His hands ran down your thighs to soothe you as you nodded, “Yes. I’m ready.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he took hold of his cock and slowly pressed himself inside you, moving deeper and deeper until his pelvic area made contact with your body.

A whimper escaped your lips and he groaned at the feeling of being inside you. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever imagined, it was better.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured as he leaned down next to your ear, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you deeper against the bed. His fingers intertwined with yours as he slowly moved his hips back before pushing back in, causing you to moan once again.

For him, this was good. The way your eyes closed, the way you nibbled on your bottom lip, and the way you gripped his hands—he’s making you feel good and that’s all he’s ever wanted to do.

His pace was slow at first, wanting you to get used to his size before he could speed up. As he did so, he whispered sweet things into your ear.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Look at you, taking me in so well.”

“I am so lucky to have you.”

As he praised you, he slowly began to increase the speed of his thrusts. Each other becoming slightly harder and deeper than the last. Then, he let go of your hands and brought them under your knees as he lifted your legs up to rest them on his shoulders—bringing you closer to him as possible.

He grunted and groaned at the new angle he had you in, he wrapped his arms around your body, bringing you against his chest as he essentially got you in this weird position with your legs over his shoulders. Who knew you were that flexible.

“Leon,” you moaned against his shoulder, gently biting his skin. He knew you were close and he wanted to bring you closer, si he unwrapped one arm and brought his hand back down and began to circle your clit with this thumb.

He marveled as he watched your back arch again, moans spilling out from you, he’d almost forgot how good he felt too until he felt you start clenching around him. His eyes rolled back but he didn’t stop. He continued rubbing your clit at the same pace but his hips began to move faster as he started to get lost in the sensation of your body.

“Cum for me,” he muttered, “Please, I need to see how pretty you are when you cum.”

It was a psychological thing, you swore. His words probably did more than his actions and when you suddenly hugged him tightly—your moans coming out muffled—he felt you tighten around him and cum on his cock. He nearly came right then and there.

“That’s it, good job, baby,” he praised in a quiet tone, “You did so well for me.”

He gently stopped rubbing your clit and caressed your head as he kept you against his chest while he thrusted in you. Not soon after, he came inside you. His hot load of cum shooting ropes of white inside you, claiming you in the most intimate way.

His breath was labored and he slowly loosened his embrace and let you lay back against the bed with ease. He carefully put your legs down, no longer on his shoulders. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath.

He liked this look on you, a look that only he can give you at the moment. It made his heart swell. He gently pulled out of you, watching as his cum started to leak out of you but he didn’t let it fall on the bed as he curled his finger and collected the drop of semen.

“I’ll go clean you up, don’t move,” he said in a firm but gentle voice as he stood up and got off the bed before making his way to the bathroom where he got a warm towel. He gently pressed it between your legs and wiped as carefully as possible to avoid making you uncomfortable.

Once he was done, he picked up your clothes from the floor and helped you get dressed into a new set of pajamas. Ones that knew would feel so comfortable after everything that’s happened. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead, “You did so well, now rest, dear,” he whispered before he began to get dressed himself.

You could only nod, feeling a bit bad that he’s taking care of you and not the other way around. But knowing him, he’ll probably reprimand you for working too hard. He really cares about you.

Minutes later he joined you in his bed, wrapped his arms around you and bringing closer to his chest to cuddle. Your arms wrapped around his chest as both your legs tangled under the covers. It was comforting and he was warm. Warm enough that you almost fell asleep.

“I love you,” you muttered. That was the first time he’s ever heard you say those words. It made his heart skip a beat and a smile reached his lips.

“I love you just as much more as I possibly could,” he muttered back before kissing the crown of your head and hugged you tighter.

He closed his eyes around the same time you did, and you both fell asleep in each others arms.

The two of you now bound by love and promises, he swore he’d never let anyone else lay a finger on you and he’ll let the world burn for you.

[moonstruckme]

Hello, I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for something pre-relationship with James. You could write in which the reader recently moved into a building/condominium and she needs help with something, like something that needs a specific tool or dealing with a spider and she asks her neighbor (James) for help? I think it would be something cute, like love at first sight. (I'm sorry if you don't want to write, but I saw a video like this and thought it would be cool to read something about it)

Thanks for requesting lovely!

neighbor!James x fem!reader ♡ 868 words

James almost doesn’t hear the knocking the first time. It’s hardly more than a couple of light taps, like someone might have bumped their bag into his door as they went by. Still, it gets his attention. James pauses in cutting up melon for tomorrow’s breakfast, head angling towards his front door. 

It comes again, a bit less tentative this time, and he sets down his knife, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before going to the door. 

You’re standing in the hall with your arms crossed tight against the nighttime chill that seeps into the building, wearing fuzzy slippers and what are quite clearly pajamas. You give him James a terse smile, looking somewhere between apologetic and panic-stricken. 

“Hi,” you say, at the same time as he says, “Hello.” 

Your smile blooms a bit more genuinely at that, and James is glad for it. You’re quite lovely when you look at him like that. It makes him wish he was wearing something other than his pajama bottoms or had brushed his teeth after his garlicky dinner. 

“Hi,” you say again. “Um, I’m really sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve just moved in next door and I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 

“Of course,” he agrees. No context needed. James prides himself on being neighborly, but he thinks he’d probably do just about anything you ask him to. “What is it?” 

“There’s a cockroach in my living room.” You deliver the news with a grave face, like his revoking his offer of help is predetermined. “I’ve been trying to put a cup over it for, like, twenty minutes probably, but it’s too fast and I can’t really corner it by myself.” 

“Ah.” James steps outside, closing his door behind him. “Alright, yeah, I’m sure we can take care of that. Lead the way, lovely.” 

You take a bolstering breath before stepping into your apartment, making him grin. It really is just right next to his, and this knowledge seems like a dangerous thing to have. James is going to have to start playing his music a tad lower and making sure he looks decent every time he goes outside. 

Just inside the door, there’s a broom propped against the wall. You take it up. 

“Okay,” you say, awfully serious for someone in fuzzy slippers wielding a broom, “I was thinking I’d get him into that corner there, and then you could put the cup over him.” You nod towards a cup turned facedown on the coffee table. James picks it up. Some of the determination slips from your expression, eyebrows twitching towards each other, as you look at him. “Sorry to drag you into this. I really appreciate it.” 

“It’s really fine,” James laughs. “This isn’t the first time someone has called me over to take care of a bug, and you live a lot closer than my mate did at the time.” In the period in between James and Sirius living together and Sirius moving in with Remus, his friend had forced James over to his flat at least twice a week so that he could trap spiders under cups while Sirius shrieked “Kill it! Kill it!” from atop his kitchen table. 

You grimace. “Well, it’s good to know you’ve had practice. Okay, last I saw him he was under the couch. Ready?” 

James nods, holding the cup in his hand. 

You sweep the broom tentatively underneath the couch, starting at one end at working your way to the other. Just when James is starting to come to terms with the idea that the roach has moved to an unknown location, it skitters out from that opposite end. 

You go after it with impressive grit, blocking its attempted escape underneath a nearby chair and herding it towards the corner. 

“Ready?” You don’t take your eyes from the bug for a second, but James nods anyways as he steps forward, cup held aloft. 

The roach runs into the corner, and James descends upon it. He lowers the cup quickly, not wanting the small creature to catch on and rebel against its eviction, but the thing moves quicker. 

It flies towards him. 

James makes a not-super-dignified yelping sound and trips backward, landing fortunately in the chair. You shriek and swat at it with the broom, missing by a meter. You both track the cockroach as it lands on a wall. 

“Fuck,” James breathes. He’s aware that he’s not making a great impression right now, but he feels like he’s just been attacked. “You didn’t tell me it was one of those flying ones!”

“I didn’t think it was!” You’re clutching the broom handle in a white-knuckled grip, your eyes wide. “It wasn’t doing that earlier!” 

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ve still got this. Just, ah, if you decide you’d like to abandon this, sleep at my place, and call pest control in the morning, I’m just saying right now that’d be more than alright with me.” 

You meet his eyes. “Think I’m gonna try a bit more first, but I might take you up on that. Thanks.” 

James grins. “No worries. Always good to have a backup plan.”

[calisources]

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this memes are taken from different sources of literature, television and media about enemies to lovers trope and enemies and lovers trope with some angst thrown into the mix. Change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit.

Does it hurt? Loving someone who can’t love you back?

Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.

What are we doing?

You are capable of making my blood boil like no one else, and yet I feel a magnetic pull I cannot explain.

It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand

Like whether you should kiss me or punch me.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.

You make me feel things that shouldn’t exist. 

Whatever this is, we should stop. I have been. . .compromised.

There’s a fine line between love and hate, and maybe we crossed it a long time ago.

I never thought I could detest someone so much, until the day I realized I was falling in love with you.

We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other.

You infuriate me, challenge me, drive me crazy, but damn it, at the end of the day, I can’t resist you.

It’s that tension that makes this so irresistible.

You’re like an addiction I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

You’re the thorn in my side, the fire in my veins, and I can’t help but crave your presence in my life.

Loving you feels like a dangerous game.

You infuriate me, yet you’re the only one who truly understands me.

You scare me to my core.

There’s no denying the fire that burns between us.

If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies.

I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.

Tell me you don’t feel this between us. Look at me and don’t look away while saying it.

You claim me your enemy and yet, let me crawl into your bed every night.

You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.

Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.

I did not asked for this. To be plagued by these feelings.

I tried to deny it for so long, but I don’t want to anymore.

Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all.

There’s no need for these games.

Well, you know that old saying, “Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.

You read me wrong.  I wasn't trying to lead you on.

Is that all I am to you? A resource to be used in your scheme?

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But I just- I can't do it tonight, okay?

 You'll lay a man out for implying I'm a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.

So, the only man that can have you is one who's already tried to kill you. That's logic.

It's like a little death. Several, in fact.

Oh Max, if you really hated Kyle you couldn't have slept with him.

So go on... kiss me... kill me... Do something.

I've often wondered what this moment would be like. Me... you tied up. 

Once this is over, we should really have angry sex.

Hate and love are not so very different things. Both are focused upon another. Both are intense. Both are passionate.

It just means you'd rather be with someone you hate... than be with me.

She's difficult and irritating, and she tries to hit me all the time.

We have a deal, what are you so afraid of?

Only I can hurt you this way. Only I can kiss you like this. 

You dragged me down and now I can’t quit you. 

This is the last time we do this.

Last night was also the last time. And yet, you keep coming back.

Better my mouth than my knife, right?

[naeverse]

Tangled in his Webs

Art generated by: Niji • Journey Request from: @migueloharacumslut Ask: And I have a request I forgot rather I submitted or not. Mad scientist Miguel x therapist reader Miguel gets put in a psych ward because he got caught experimenting on people and himself trying to turned them in to spider people. He’s been in the psych ward for five years and he needs to be cleared to go back in the world. That’s where the reader comes in to clear him only he manipulates her into thinking he is sane. During their session Miguel becomes obsessed with the reader and little does he know she is obsessed with him too. At night she touched herself to the thought of him. When Miguel get out he finds her. Make the sex nastyyy, hard and rough little choking wouldn’t hurt either. Please and thank you ! 😊 A/N: I really loved this idea and enjoyed writing Scientist Miguel so much. Might write him more lol, but thank you @migueloharacumslut for the idea. Also this is the first part and a second one will be following this one, hope you enjoy!

💉staring: Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Therapist Reader

      🩵preview:  “I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?” 

🔬summary:  As an evaluation therapist at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing, you are assigned a new patient—one who is complex, captivating, and dangerously drawing you in more than you ever expected.

⚗️tw/cw (Just for this part): Big Dick Miguel, Bondage, Fingering, Masturbation, Psychopathy, Restraints, Sadism, Size Difference, Restraints

🔭Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear)

     🩵Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🥼Word Count: 7.7k 

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real-life individuals or events is purely coincidental. It does not intend to diagnose or represent any real mental health conditions. Thank you for understanding, and I hope you enjoy the story.**

Your eyes fluttered open, consciousness slowly returning. You felt a dull ache and soreness in your throat, accompanied by a pervasive feeling of weakness throughout your body. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead and adjusting to the suffocating sterile scent of antiseptic, you noticed that you were lying on your back against a hard, cold surface.

With furrowed eyebrows, you attempted to sit up, only to be thwarted back by the metal restraints tightly bound around your wrists and ankles.

‘What the heck!?’ 

You thought, panic and fear beginning to grip you. Your eyes darted down to discover yourself clad only in your undergarments—a delicate white, laced satin set—leaving you exposed to the chilling breeze that consistently swept through the well-lit space.

You couldn't remember how you got here; your groggy mind unable to piece together the events that led to your presence upon the metal table. The faint hum of machinery echoed from far away, punctuated by distant murmurs that made your heart drop.

With dazed eyes, you looked around your surroundings to be met with the overbearing shade of a bright white that covered the walls of what looked to be a lab of some sorts. Countertops were lined with an array of perfectly arranged scientific instruments, machines, and beakers.

Shelves held neatly labeled containers, each housing an assortment of chemicals and biological specimens. Despite being well-lit, there were little to no windows present, intensifying the feeling of isolation within the controlled environment. 

The place seemed devoid of humanity, replaced by a location where experimentation and analysis were handled freely without compassion or warmth.

But one thing about the lab really stood out to you: two jars sitting upon the shelves—one full of bloody red eyes and the other with abnormally sharp canines.

The sight almost made you vomit, hastily turning to look away. Your heart and breath were picking up, fear clawing at your being. Although how morbid the otherworldly body parts were, they triggered something in your head.

The more you thought upon it, awareness seeped in like an unwelcome guest; slowly, you began to remember.

The mental facility...

Red eyes...

The flowers...

Sharp canines...

Black glasses...

His release...

Him.

The wine...

Then darkness...

The memories came rushing back so quickly that you weren’t able to keep up, until it all came back to...

Him...

A wave of regret and stupidity overwhelmed you. Never in your life had you felt so worthless.

You should have known...

You should have fucking known...

‘He wasn’t well. He wasn’t fine. You were wrong, so wrong-’

“Good… You are awake.”

The bone-chilling voice of your captor filled the room, sending a familiar chill down your back. With trembling lips, you turned your head to see the backside of a massive male entering the room. His coffee-brown locks styled neatly upon his head, a white lab coat adorning his huge build along with black dress pants and oxfords.

The scientist wore clean attire, perfect for working in the lab, but his outfit was beyond your concern. 

You knew who he was, but you didn’t want to believe it.

You gulped, watching him slap on a pair of white latex gloves upon his large, calloused palms before beginning to inspect the scientific tools that sat upon the nearby counter.

"And here I thought you would have been excited to see me again..." he said in a husky voice, responding to your silence—his Latino accent unmistakable, along with a hint of amusement found in his tone. You felt like an idiot for falling for him, for becoming so fascinated with a madman like him...

But you were still in denial.

You weren’t going to believe it was him until you saw his face...

“T-T-Turn around…” You said hoarsely, the pain in your throat distant underneath the layers of fear and anxiety coursing through your body. At your demand, the large scientist laughed. “Turn around?” He asked slowly, silence following his inquiry, making your body run cold.

Suddenly, he spun around, slamming his palms onto the metal table you laid upon. The abruptness and loud noise made you jump, and a gasp erupted from your lips. His eyes stared directly into yours, holding the same madness that you believed he had cured when you initially met him. But, like before, it wasn’t the insanity in his gaze that made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach...

It was his eyes... 

His teeth...

The scientist’s crimson eyes looked down at you, taking in your discolored skin and half-lidded eyes that were still under a drowsy spell. “I turned around now, are you happy?” He asked with a playful smirk. “Do you recognize me now, dear?” 

Your eyes widened, the look upon your face enough to show the mad scientist that you did, in fact, remember who he was— but you were too speechless to respond, causing the male to chuckle.

“Do I need to give you any more proof that it is I?”

His snickering seemed to reverberate off the walls of your mind as the fluorescent lights of his lab bounced off his razor sharp canines.

With trembling lips and dilated pupils, you looked over his face, your heart breaking more and more because…

It was, indeed, him...

The mad scientist... 

The sexy patient... 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara…

The man you fell for…

White, close-toed wedges clicked upon the mental facility's aged linoleum tiles, the floor's once-bright patterns now a faded, discolored mosaic covered with scuff marks and indistinct stains that revealed the struggles of all who shuffled through the dimly lit corridor. The mental facility, unintentionally, gave off an eerie atmosphere with walls clad in faded, peeling paint and ceilings with bright, flickering fluorescent lights that cast irregular shadows along the cold institutional floor, further giving anyone who traversed the halls the creeps.

You, a therapist meant to evaluate patients for release, were given a new challenge—a patient that held a sadistic background coupled with a remarkable intellect that made many wonders how he found himself inside 'Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing.'

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was your new patient's name, an intelligent scientist who became a little twisted after his discovery of gene splicing. In his pursuit of advancing the human race, he became obsessed with the idea and creation of spider-human hybrids. After many experimentations of creating what is referred to as mutates, he was unsuccessful. Before he could continue with his study, he was arrested and sentenced to seven years here at the institution where it seems he’d made progress.

Whilst you walked towards his cell, taking the seemingly endless halls of the asylum, you looked over his file. Inside were documents containing his personal information, such as full name, date of birth, emergency contact, and next of kin. In the brown folder were also his medical history, psychiatric assessment, diagnostic evaluations, and much more information collected during his time at the institution; however, there were four pieces of his folder that piqued your interest:

Observation logs, Treatment plan, Risk assessment, and lastly, incident reports.

You studied each of the documents to discover the important details that needed to be surveyed before seeing the scientist in person.

_____________________________________ 

Miguel O’Hara - Mental Health File

Patient Information:

Full name: Miguel O’Hara

Date of Birth: 10/13/2070

Appointed into: Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing

Admission Date: 11/10/2099

Emergency Contact: N/A

Next Of Kin: N/A

**The patient has explicitly communicated a desire for their next of kin not to be associated with their mental health treatment, and no detailed information about family members was recorded to respect the patient’s privacy.**

Diagnosis:

Primary Diagnosis: Psychopathy

Secondary Diagnosis: Antisocial Personality Disorder

Treatment Team:

Primary Therapist: Dr. Jessica Owens, Licensed Clinical Psychologist

Psychiatrist: Dr. Peter B. Parker, MD

Nursing Staff: Nurse Mary Jane Watson, RN

_____________________________________ 

Treatment Plan: 

Medications 

Fluoxetine (Prozac) 

Dosage: 20 mg daily

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is prescribed Fluoxetine to address symptoms of irritability that derives from his disorder of Antisocial Personality. 

Lorazepam (Ativan)

Dosage: 0.5 mg as needed (PRN) for anxiety

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is given Lorazepam on an as-needed basis to manage anxiety-related symptoms or impulsivity.

**Its used closely monitored due to the risk of misuse**

Lamotrigine (Lamictal) 

Dosage: Gradual titration starting at 25 mg, with adjustments based on response. 

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara’s treatment plan included Lamotrigine to help stabilize mood swings or emotional dysregulation. 

_____________________________________ 

Incident reports 

Date: 2/3/2100

Incident: Verbal altercation with another patient during group therapy 

Action Taken: Immediate de-escalation and one-on-one session with Dr. Peter B. Parker. 

Date: 6/21/2100

Incident: Refusal to take prescribed medication 

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education 

Date: 10/3/2100

Incident: Refused to attend scheduled group therapy and became verbally aggressive towards staff members

Action Taken: Security staff was called to ensure the safety of other patients and staff. Miguel was later engaged in a one-on-one session to explore the reasons behind his resistance to group participation. 

Date: 1/4/2101

Incident: 2nd occurence of refusal to take prescribed medication 

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education and therapeutic engagement by Dr. Jessica Owens to address any fears or misconceptions related to his prescribed medications. 

Date: 4/18/2101

Incident: Observed by Nurse Mary Jane Watson of the patient hoarding various items in his room, including non-permissible objects. 

Action taken: Staff conducted a room check, confiscated unauthorized items, and discussed appropriate belongings with Miguel. A follow-up session with his therapist, Dr. Jessica Owens was scheduled to explore any underlying concern. 

Date: 3/21/2102

Incident:  Engaged in a physical altercation with another patient during a recreational activity 

Action taken: Immediate intervention by staff to separate the individuals involved. Both parties were assessed for injuries, and a report was filed. Increased monitoring and a review of Miguel’s treatment plan were conducted to address potential triggers for aggressive behavior

_____________________________________

Risk Assessments: 

Current Risk level: Moderate 

Factors: History of aggression, resistance to treatment, potential for manipulative behavior 

Interventions: Increased monitoring, ongoing assessment for potential triggers 

_____________________________________

Observation Logs: 

Date/Time: 8/16/2102, 2:30 PM

Observation: Miguel exhibited signs of increased irritability during the group mindfulness session. Requested to leave the session prematurely. 

Staff comments: Noted Miguel’s discomfort during mindfulness exercises. Alternative relaxation techniques were explored for future sessions. 

Date/Time: 12/2/2103, 10:00 AM

Observation: Miguel was observed engaging in a one-on-one conversation with staff during morning indoor activities. Discussed personal interests and aspirations. 

Staff comments: Encouraged Miguel’s open communication. Noted his ability to articulate personal interest, fostering a sense of connection with staff. 

Date/Time: 2/15/2104, 6:45 PM 

Observations: Spends most of his time in the facility’s library, engrossed in reading.

Staff Comments: Positive use of leisure time observed. Reading contributed to a sense of routine and engagement. 

Date/Time: 6/23/2104, 8:30 PM 

Observations: Attended the evening group therapy, contributing to discussions on coping strategies. Demonstrated empathy towards a fellow patient sharing personal challenges.

Staff Comments: Noted Miguel’s willingness to engage in group discussions and support peers. Positive progress in developing empathy and interpersonal skills. 

**Miguel O’Hara has exhibited excellent improvement and staff believes he can be released in 2105, instead of 2107.**

_____________________________________

You closed his folder, taking a look at the photo that decorated the front. Like many patients at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing (NYS-MH), Miguel O’Hara didn’t look like a dangerous individual; he was actually quite handsome—with dark, wavy locks that framed his olive, chiseled face and amber eyes shielded by a pair of black eyeglasses; Dr. O’Hara wasn’t a bad-looking guy.

To ponder upon the atrocities, he could have committed for the sake of science was baffling as you gazed at the photo. The more you inspected the image, the happier you became at the fact he was doing better - better enough to be released back into society.

It was why you were here, anyway…

You tucked the folder under your arm and continued your walk towards his room, passing steel doors that lined the corridor, each secured with heavy bolts and reinforced locks to keep the patients contained and prevent them from harming themselves or others. Occasionally, muffled echoes of distant cries and disjointed whispers seeped through the cracks, adding to the unsettling symphony of the troubled minds that dwelled within.

You've walked these halls many times, but there was something about today that really made your skin crawl. So, it was relieving when you finally found Miguel O’Hara’s room, number 209.

Two guards stood on either side of his door, present only for emergencies. With a deep breath and slight adjustments to the white top, black blazer, and bodycon skirt that covered you, you gave each of them a nod and unlocked his door with a key, entering Miguel’s room…

Upon stepping inside, you instantly took notice of the soft, muted tones of blues and greens dominating the color palette, bringing a sense of serenity to the room. The patient's sleeping area contained the normal necessities—a comfortable bed with crisp, clean linens and a modest seating area. The furniture was arranged in an open and uncluttered manner, with personal touches here and there by the patient himself or for safety precautions. 

For his adoration for reading and science, a small shelf was placed inside his room, displaying a few books and a potted plant, offering familiarity to the scientist.

Your eyes shifted to the large, muscular male who sat upon his bed, dressed in a white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and slip-on shoes. His massive backside faced you as it seemed he was engrossed in writing, his huge hand moving gracefully upon the page he was working on.

You cast a glance at the camera positioned in the corner of the ceiling in his room, placed there for monitoring and to ensure the patient, and others remain safe. After making sure the camera blinks red twice, showing its activity, you approach him with light steps.

"Miguel O’Hara?" you called out to him in a soft voice, not wishing to disrupt him. All of his movements came to a halt, his body rigid as his large hand placed the pen he was using into the open journal before slowly closing it. You watched him set the book down beside him on the bed, wondering if the handsome male you saw on the photo would be the same seated before you.

It seemed you were watching with batted breath for him to turn around and when he did, the sight of him shocked you and made your heart skip a beat.

You knew from his photo, the male would be gorgeous—so attractive that if he weren't your patient, you'd probably gush over him from afar. But it wasn't his attractiveness that made your breath hitch.

He looked completely different.

He looked…

Otherworldly.

With a cold expression, you stared back at a pair of crimson eyes covered with black eyeglasses, a small smile spreading across his tanned lips, revealing a set of sharp canines. “You must be the therapist that is to evaluate me. Right, Querida?” He inquired with a hum, his deep voice holding a Latino accent. 

You gulped at the intensity of his abnormal scarlet orbs, subconsciously clenching his brown folder in your hands and giving him a nod. “Y-Yes, I am,” you replied, stepping back to give the large male room to stand, and when he did…

He was like a giant…

The bed creaked at his ascent as his massive being towered over you, your head tilting up to maintain eye contact. Choking back how intimidated you were, you gestured over to the small seating area of two white cushioned chairs and a table in the corner of his room. “L-Let’s sit over here to talk,” you proposed, and for a moment, he just stood there, gazing down at you like a mere ant before his tight-lipped smile returned.

With an approving grunt, he stepped in front of you; with his powerful, long legs, it took him little to no time to reach the comfort area and settle down into the white chair, the seat creaking under his heavy weight. You followed behind him, moving to sit across from your new patient and shifting into a comfortable position.

When your eyes met the male's, his crimson eyes were already staring at you, lingering upon your body in a way that made you feel like a microbe under a telescope. You gave him a polite smile, shaking off the unsettling feeling that always rose within you when speaking with the patients. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Miguel O’Hara. My name is Dr. Y/LN, and as you’ve been informed, I am the therapist here to evaluate you for your release.” You explained sweetly, watching every part of the patient, who remained completely motionless, simply continuing to stare back at you with an expression devoid of all emotion.

“It’s nice to see a new face, doctor. It can get rather boring here,” he uttered, using his middle finger to push his black eyeglasses up the bridge of his broad nose.

You placed his folder down upon the table, turning it to not reveal his photo on the front; you've learned from past experiences that the sight tended to worry them. Bringing your legs to cross over each other, you clasped your hands, placing them on your lap. “Boring?” you asked with furrowed brows. “Why don’t we speak about your time here first, Dr. O’Hara? Is that okay with you?” The inquiry left your lips in a soothing tone, one that calmed most patients upon hearing it; but with this patient, you couldn’t quite tell—he hid his emotions too well.

“Well, maybe not boring…repetitive is a better word,” he corrected himself. “But, dear, I’m fine with speaking of my time here.” He replied with a smile, placing his hands upon the armrests and widening his stance. Your eyes drifted to run along his inviting toned thighs adorned by a pair of gray sweatpants that did little to conceal the curves of the muscles underneath. 

You also took notice of his posture; taking a mental note of openness from the patient before you asked your question, “Well then, may I ask how you are doing during morning activities? It's stated that you prefer Creative Arts Therapy in the mornings, correct?”

He nodded, his sharp canines peeking out from between his lips as he spoke. “Indeed, mostly during Creative Arts Therapy, I write,” he explained in a deep voice. “I’ve grown to learn that to better settle my thoughts is to put them on paper.”

“And that is an excellent form of therapy that you’ve discovered for yourself, Dr. O’Hara. May I ask, what exactly do you write?” You asked, trying to ignore the faint sight of madness in his crimson orbs. “I write down my thoughts, ideas, and aspirations,” he simply said. 

You hummed, giving him a smile. “How about future plans? Do you write about those?” At your question, he snickered, giving you a wry, dismissive head shake. “I…don’t write much on that,” he replied. “I’ll hate to get my hopes up,” he added in an amused, yet somewhat disheartened tone.

“Get your hopes up?” you inquired, eyebrows creasing in confusion. “May you elaborate, Dr. O’Hara?” The male nodded, his large fingers stroking the armrest of his chair in a deep caress. “I do not wish to anticipate that I will be released early,” his caresses of the chair never ceasing, and his eyes trained on his moving fingers.

You studied him, taking in his deflated voice and how he spoke in a slow manner. Your gaze shifted to take in the intricate motion his fingers moved upon the armrest as there were multiple reasons a patient would do such a thing.

He could be nervous, frustrated, impatient, or simply doing it to comfort himself. Recalling his mannerisms from previously, you could cross out your thought of him being nervous; the way the scientist carried himself was in a way of confidence that couldn’t be faked, so it left you with the last three—frustration, impatience, or comfort.

Without further observation, you couldn’t pinpoint his reasoning for his odd gesture, instead giving him a soft grin and replying to his previous words of anticipation. “I understand your concerns about getting your hopes up, especially considering that you were rewarded with an early release date based on your wonderful behavior as of late,” you sympathized, “So it’s completely normal to feel cautious about expectations,” you said, taking in the abnormally muscular male before you. 

“But let’s explore these feelings, shall we? Let’s say you are released in the next two weeks; what would your life look like, Dr. O’Hara?” you asked, deeply intrigued by his answer.

A moment of silence filled the room after your inquiry, the doctor continuing to make intricate patterns upon the armrest with his finger before his red eyes returned back to you. A nervous chuckle rumbled from his chest—the sound restoring life back into the room. “Ahh, I always get stumped on that question. It's another reason I haven’t written much about it in my journal.”

You nodded, placing your hands upon your legs. “Well, let’s start small,” you proposed with a grin. “You seem to have taken a liking to the hobby of writing while staying here at NYS-MH. Would you like to expand on that?” Miguel gave you a thoughtful hum, his pointer finger continuing to glide against the armrest of his chair. 

“I’ve…always wanted to write a book.” Your eyes snapped from his fingers to rest upon his chiseled face, surprise and amazement present upon your facial features at his desire. “Oh really? And what would that book be about?”

“Genetics, of course.” He chuckled, the mention of his past interest that caused his descent into madness making your heart skip a beat. Your eyes narrowed, the amazement fading from your being. You leaned back into your chair, keeping your composure.

“Are you still interested in Genetics, Dr. O’Hara?” Your inquiry being met with a nod from the patient, one that he didn’t hesitate on responding with. “I’ve worked in the field for almost my entire life and I’m exceptionally good at it.” He explained with a voice of knowledge in a low, deep whisper. “So why would I abandon my hard-earned skills and education?” 

His reasoning on his maintained attachment to the field was an excellent one, but like many things, it could be a trigger; causing the once cured doctor to revert back to his old ways of sadism and horrendous acts for the sake of science. This potential trigger would not only bring harm to everyone once more but erase the hard work that Miguel had achieved at the mental institution to fix. 

You cleared your throat before speaking. “I…understand your desire to write a book about Genetics. It’s an intriguing subject.” You said, preparing yourself to ask a question that would surely strike the doctor. “But considering the circumstance of your past experiments and the impact they had, how do you plan to approach the topic responsibly?” You asked, watching his reaction closely in anticipation. 

After your question it seemed as if everything stopped—froze even… 

You gazed at Miguel taking in his tanned face that stared back at you. His crimson eyes were empty behind his black frames and his posture was completely still in his seat. 

You’ll think he was a statue…

“Dr. O’Hara?” You called out to him which seemed to snap him from his thoughts. His red eyes slowly shifted to you, his tanned lips pulling into a small smile. 

“Responsibility, my dear therapist, is such a heavy word…” He said with a smirk. “But I wish to ask, what compelled you to work with the mental? It’s a challenging profession for those with weaker minds.” Miguel said, casting an odd aura upon the room with his every word. “I should know…many say they are for the discovery of science and when the time presents itself, they get cold feet.” He stated, his finger ceasing its movement upon the armrest. 

It wasn't unusual for a patient to desire to ask you a question, but the way he gazed at you with his intense eyes and how his gravelly voice caused a shiver to run down your spine made you hesitant, which the patient seemed to have noticed. “I only ask since you handle your job so beautifully.” He complimented, his eyes taking in your seated position. “I only wish to know what led you here before me.” The words left the patient’s lips in an ominous manner, however, upon saying such a thing his olive face held a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

His fanged grin, oddly, sent a wave of warmth through your being and caused you to forget your reply to his question. You shifted in your seat, trying to keep your composure and recall your departed answer. “W-well, I…umm… entered this field by the simple fact of being interested in psychology a-and the way the mind works.” You replied once you found the words, unable to hide the stammering of your voice due to how unnerving everything was becoming. Miguel nodded slowly, running his tongue along the tip of his fang, the action drawing your attention. 

“Your interest in the subject of the mind is rather…fascinating.” Abruptly, he leaned up in his seat, resting his elbows upon his knees and invading your personal space. Your heart skipped a beat at his suddenness and at being able to see just how abnormal and captivating his scarlet eyes and sharp fangs were; it caused goosebumps to rise upon your skin at the mere sight. 

“I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?” He grinned, the fluorescent lights of his room bouncing off his sharp fangs as his eyes were filled with a hint of amusement, though it was impossible to ignore how it seemed he was toying with you. 

“I…see individuals, like you, as people who have become lost in the darkness and just need assistance in finding the light once more.” You stated, his eyebrow raising and a chuckle escaping him at your answer. “A bold claim…” He said, his eyes tracing your figure and lingering upon how tightly you were now grasping your skirt.  

“For a little thing like you…” 

Miguel muttered imperceptibly that you almost didn't hear him. “E-Excuse me?” You asked in shock and with furrowed eyebrows causing the patient to snicker, shaking his head. “Just that your view is a unique way of thinking and a…intriguing one, in fact.” He said, leaning back in his chair and adopting a relaxed position once more. 

“It’s really fascinating how intellectual you are, doctor.” He grinned. “Few possess the ability to navigate the labyrinth of thoughts of the mental. I applaud you on that.” Miguel praised, returning back to running his palm along the white armrest whilst giving you his undivided attention. 

In your gut, you knew his recalling of the statement said previously was false, you were certain he said something that was out of the norm. 

But could you have mistaken? 

You took in his face, taking note of how he gazed at you. The scientist was attractive, and normally during your job you were able to ignore that appealing quality and complete the task at hand, but right now, it seems impossible. 

The way his red eyes ran along your body like he was undressing you, made you blush. You couldn’t explain it, but you were stuck between your desires and your sense of reason. 

You were aware of Miguel’s sadistic mannerisms and how there could be a chance he wasn’t fully well as he lets on, it was why you were here, but the longer you spoke with him, the more the task at hand was leaving you. 

However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease he gave you at times. 

“M-May I ask how have you been feeling lately? Any changes?” You asked, changing the topic and settling your eyes upon Miguel once more to see him smirking. “It’s all been the same, doctor.” He began. “We have group therapies on Wednesday, daily morning activities and indoor activities…” He said, wetting his lips with the swipe of his tongue, the sight causing the tips of your ears to burn red. 

Sometime while he was speaking, you shamefully zoned out to taking in how sexy he looked. 

His white shirt tightly hugged his body, giving one a view of his hardened nipples, defined pecs, and washboard abs. Every curve of muscle was accentuated under the white fabric that teased anyone who saw. The muscles of his legs pressed against his gray sweatpants, and your eyes widened slightly at being able to make out the enormity that rested against his thigh.  The sight causing you to bite your lip…

“Querida?” 

The sexy patient called out to you, snapping you from your trance. “Y-Yes!?” You inquired, clearing your throat and taking a more assertive and relaxed position to try and dismiss your previous lack of professionalism. Miguel snickered. “It seemed you were off somewhere else…and here I thought that was my job.” He joked, causing you to chuckle nervously. 

“M-My apologies. You may continue.” You replied, wishing to proceed as if none of that happened. Miguel smirked, his crimson eyes roaming along your body before his finger began to tap upon the armrest.

“In my leisure, I write in my journal, read, or tend to my plant.” He finished, keeping it short and gesturing to the bookshelf in the room that held a pot of beautiful flowers. You smiled seeing how the black flowers bloomed upon the shelf. 

“May I ask, what is it that you write in your journal?” You asked, looking back at him to see his eyebrows furrowed. “It wouldn’t be ethical if I asked what you write in your diary, would it, doctor?” He inquired, causing you to instantly become regretful of your words. You casted him an apologetic look. “M-My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

“No…it’s fine. Your fascination is interesting…” He trailed off, a tap of his finger following your words. You glanced back over at his plant once more, the flower really captivating you. “The plant is family to the Calla Lilies.” Miguel answered before you could even ask, looking over at you as you continued to inspect the plant from your seat. “Hmm…I’ve never seen a plant like this.” 

“Because this plant, in particular, is very rare.” He explained. “Native to South Africa, Escape, is a very rare find.” Miguel said with a fanged grin. “It’s why I made it mandatory that it was brought with me when I was assigned at NYS-MH.” 

You stared in awe at the abnormally black flower. This was your first time seeing a plant of pitch blackness that hadn’t already withered away, but Miguel’s next words grabbed your attention. 

“But one day while tending to my flowers, I hit an…epiphany of sorts.”  Miguel told you, causing you to cock your head in puzzlement. 

His words intrigued you…

“May I ask what epiphany you reached, Dr. O’Hara?” At your question, Miguel gave you a look of appreciation and sincerity. “I understand that upon my arrival, I wasn’t…in the best state of mind.” He said with a sigh. “But after being here, I feel like I’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” You asked, bringing a small smile to his lips. “I…believe I’m ready to see the world again.” He answered, giving you a genuine look of certainty. 

His realization filled you with gratification. You reached for his brown folder, believing he had, indeed, improved. The first major step for the patient was seeing that they were initially unwell, which the patient had achieved. 

“I’m greatly pleased with your recognition of this epiphany of yours, Dr. O’Hara.” You said, holding his folder in your hands. “But I believe you are ready to answer some more serious questions.” You said, glancing up at him. “Are you ready?” You asked, seeking permission of his state of mind before proceeding. 

With a nod from Miguel, you opened his folder, pulling out a few of his documents to begin asking more serious questions regarding them. “I’ve noticed in your next of kin that you asked for them to not be aware of your mental treatment.” You began, looking up at Miguel to see him already gazing back at you, his crimson orbs trained on you. The sight made your heart flutter. “M-May I ask how you would cope on the outside without your familial relations knowing of t-the treatments and necessary tools you've learned whilst being here?” At your inquiry, Miguel’s face hardened, his crimson eyes darkening.

“Well, you see, my dear therapist, family can be a bit…overwhelming.” He uttered, tapping his finger against the armrest once more like a metronome; his eye contact never breaking. “I’ve decided to take a more independent route for now.” He explained in a deep, slow voice. “But friends, colleagues—people who don't burden me with unnecessary questions about the past are who I seek.” He said, his voice holding a hint of coldness as his jaw clenched. 

“Because, it’s important to focus on the present and the future, rather than the past, don’t you think…

Doctor?” 

You gulped, his words seeming to have you in a vice. It was as if he had some kind of control over you, all of the rules and regulations you learned whilst being an evaluation therapist at NYS-MH faded from your mind. You couldn’t figure out what you found so enticing about him. 

Was it the way he looked or behaved? How he seemed to speak with such intellect in a tone of voice that could lull one to sleep?   

You were puzzled…

But you were certain something was happening, and it was greatly affecting you and your ability to think clearly. 

You hesitantly nodded, clenching his folder and feeling your cheeks redden once again.  “T-That is correct.” You agreed, not believing what you were saying. “I would understand your desire to look past your previous mistakes and move forward.” You uttered, trying to keep your attention on the patient. 

“Indeed…Mistakes.” He smirked, a small chuckle passing his lips, his finger seeming to tap against the armchair after your words. Your eyes looked from his hand and to his face, studying how his coffee-brown locks blowned gently in the breeze from the vent overhead, and to his defined cheekbones and broad nose that made him even more captivating… 

 “Have any more questions for me, doctor?” 

You jumped at his inqury, noticing you were just staring at him. 

What the hell was wrong with you?!

A little disheveled, you fumbled through the folder for the next pages of information you sought, picking up his documents on his treatment plan of medications and his incident reports. “Umm…I-I wanted to ask about your medications.” You began, wetting your lips and holding the papers up to hide behind them. “T-There were two occurrences where you refused to take your medication. M-may I ask why you refused?” You asked, peeking around the paper to see the patient adjust his black eyeglasses upon his face along with the repeated thudding of his finger upon the chair. 

“I must ask, how would you feel if someone took away your identity?” 

“W-what?!” You asked in surprise, lowering the pages hastily. A laugh rumbled from his broad chest, giving you a clear view of his otherworldly fangs that made the pit of your stomach twist into knots. “You heard me, doctor.” He stated in a manner that was to be amusing but only made one disturbed. 

“What if someone was trying to force you to be someone else? Someone you are not?” He asked, causing you to chew your inner cheek and ponder his question. “I…I guess I wouldn’t like that.” 

“Indeed…” He replied. “Any creature would despise the fact of forced transformation of oneself. It’s the reason you cannot simply change a savage tiger to being a tamed kitten in your home.” The dark-haired male explained. “It’s because a tiger would always cling to its savage ways, it's what keeps them alive—it’s what they enjoy.”  

“That’s…a great analogy, Dr. O’Hara.” 

“Why thank you, dear.” Miguel replied with a smirk before his old expression shifted to hold furrowed eyebrows and a frown—a set of facial features that instantly tugged at your heart. “But…the true reason I refused my medication was because…” He heaved a deep sigh, biting his lip. “The depressants make me sleepy and tired all the time, and…the idea of having to depend on medicine to stabilize my irritability and emotions is rather disheartening to me.” He said in a sorrowful voice. “I refused them because I believe I can be better without them.” 

You listened closely to his words, taking note of his concerns and feeling rather empathetic. “In all honesty, how would you explain your current mental health condition?” You asked, placing your compassionate eyes upon him. 

He gave you a heartfelt smile, one that made your heart soar. “Like I said previously, I feel better, Doctor.” Miguel said in genuinely. “I’ve seen the errors in my ways and am deeply disgusted by what I’ve done to innocent individuals…t-too myself.” He said, looking away at the ground in shame. 

“I wish to return back into society and start anew.” He replied. “Be the man that I’ve wanted to be—not some madman who allowed his idea to get too out of hand that led to the deaths of innocence.” Miguel professed to you with an emotional and hearty voice. 

You nodded slowly as you noticed his scarlet eyes flicker down to your hands that held the brown folder. “Doctor…

May I?” 

Dr. O’Hara asked, extending his large, calloused hand to you, seeking your palm. Your eyes widened, thickly gulping and looking back up to meet his red orbs that seemed to suck you in—enticing you to take it. 

Physical connection with patients were strictly forbidden, but the sadden look of desperation upon his face led you to take his hand. You placed the brown folder upon the table before resting your hand in his large palm, and instantly yours looked to have shrunken in size. With a fluttering heart and belly, you met his eyes and instantly melted under his crimson eyes. 

“Please, Cariño. I assure you, I’ll be on my best behavior.”  

The patient affirmed, giving your hand an affectionate squeeze, following his heartfelt promise. Your breath caught in your throat at his genuine gaze and words. 

From his evaluation, you couldn’t help but agree that he was ready…

He didn’t utter a word of sadism or show signs of insanity, revealing his first diagnosis of Psychopathy was treated or can be suppressed. He exhibited signs of sympathy for his victims, and also didn’t become angry at triggering questions, displaying that his second diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder was also cured or treated. 

Like he said…

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was ready. 

You gave him a small smile, placing your free hand atop of his as Miguel’s eyes shifted down to your kind gesture and back onto your face. “Okay…I believe you.” You said, caressing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’ll be sure to send in your evaluation report that you are good to go.” You told him, but as an evaluation therapist you weren’t supposed to say, but you couldn’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth. 

Giving him a departed smile, you released his hands and collected your things. His touch still burned into your skin and left you yearning for more of him. 

You felt his abnormal eyes on you as you went to the door. Suddenly, upon putting your hand on the doorknob, a cold shiver ran down your back—one that instantly made you come to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unsettling sensation, causing you to bite your lip in nervousness.

“And Miguel…” You called out to him, using his name and looking over your shoulder at the dark-haired male. His tanned, chiseled face held an expression of hidden joy and interest as he turned towards you, his attention captured by your call whilst he remained seated in his chair

You clenched the folder tightly, hastily shifting your gaze to meet his scarlet eyes—the previous feeling of discomfort and unease vanishing.

“I-I hope you keep your word.” You said in a voice full of reverence. Miguel returned your words with a reassuring smirk, his sharp canines poking from over his bottom lip. 

“You have my word, Doctor.  I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

After turning in Dr. Miguel O'Hara’s evaluation report and going home, the scientist was still on your mind.

The way the doctor looked at you with his beautiful red eyes from behind his black spectacles, with a gaze of interest, to the fanged smiles and smirks he gave you—merely thinking about it made your cheeks redden.

You bit your lip, feeling a need to cure this desire for him, but you decided to push it away. You couldn’t feel this way about him…

You couldn’t…

…

..

But you did…

Extremely…

You lay under the blankets of your bed, tossing and turning as every time you closed your eyes to sleep, he would fill your mind. 

Especially the glimpse you got of his package. 

How his massive member was accentuated underneath the gray fabric of his sweatpants, revealing how thick and long he was. 

The remembrance made you drool… 

It had been forever since you’d touched yourself. Being a therapist at a mental facility was a rather time-consuming job, and you weren’t really interested in the many men who tried to get your attention.

Until him… 

Why did it have to be him of all people? 

It was a guilty pleasure, that was for sure—to have fallen so hard for this doctor, your patient who had many wounds that still needed healing.

But oddly, his wounds only pulled you in even more…

You bit your lip, allowing your hands to begin roaming along your body, imagining they were his calloused ones—remembering how his large hands practically engulfed yours when holding his hand, and how rough they felt.

Oh, how good it would feel if they were the ones touching you. 

Giving your clothed breasts a squeeze through your shirt, you moaned softly. Despite his past of being sadistic and cruel to others, you imagined him being gentle with you—caressing your body and touching you in a way that stole your breath every time. You arched your back as your thumb barely flicked over your pebbled nipples, drawing a whimper from your lips.

Your panties were heavily drenched in your juices due to your core's insistent pleas for stimulation and touch. Finally satisfying yourself, with a sharp tug, you pulled your panties down, freeing your pulsating pussy. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, hastily getting into a comfortable position on your back and allowing your legs to fall apart. With closed eyes, you allowed thoughts of Dr. O'Hara to guide your movements. 

His massive hand ran along your abdomen, teasing you with his skilled fingertips and trailing lower. A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers brushed softly along your throbbing bud and soppy folds, spreading your juices along the sensitive area.

You imagined Dr. O'Hara above you, his red eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he smirked down at you, pressing his large middle finger into your entrance. You moaned, feeling his finger filling your tight walls. 

Whimpers escaped your lips at how good his finger felt inside of you, your back arching in desire for more of him. His smirk broadened at your eagerness, as he slowly drew his finger out to the tip before pushing back in, quickly finding a rhythm and keeping at it with each thrust.

Your toes curled, burying your face in your inner elbow as you continued to finger your wet pussy, wishing Dr. O'Hara was here, but imagining would have to do. It wasnt long before a heat began to pool in your lower belly, your breathing picking up. 

"Taking my fingers so well, dear," Dr. O'Hara whispered into your ear, gently nipping along your lobe and throat, his fangs grazing your skin. You whined into your arm, his fingers picking up speed and hooking just right inside your pussy, bringing you to your blissful end. 

With a loud cry, your thighs trembled horribly as your juices spilled in hot spurts, soaking your hand and the sheets underneath. 

Your eyes fluttered close, trying to overcome the buzz that overwhelmed your body after your release. It took a moment, but when you caught your breath and your vision settled, you withdrew your fingers from your pussy, casting your eyes upon them to see that they, not Dr. O'Hara's, were covered in your juices. You exhaled in disappointment. 

Despite how good it felt imagining it was him, you couldn't help wanting Dr. O'Hara in the physical…

"I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?" 

As you lay there, still tinglinh from your pleasurable moment, his words filled your head, leaving you to ponder his question once more. 

Did you believe him to be a puzzle that only you could solve? In the moment, you said no, but deep down, you wanted nothing more than to thoroughly fix him.

Like many patients upon being released, they still faced numerous challenges, including reentering society, finding a job, and avoiding triggers, after departing from NYS-MH.

He was going to need help, and with all your heart, you wanted to be there for him. 

And you were going to. 

No matter what…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first part of 'Tangled in his Webs.' 😆I really enjoyed writing Miguel in this persona as it was different and honestly fun, especially with him being a darker character. It was rather new for me writing in this manner, despite some challenges here and there, I'm overall proud of the outcome and I hope you are too!

@migueloharacumslut, thanks so much for the request, and I hope you are even more happier that it's to be more than one part, lol. But once again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask. I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! 💙💙

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[starlostlix]

ARCANE S2 ACT 1 SPOILERS BELOW as I analyse the scene between Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn and Isha, what it means for them, and the link to Caitlyn's 3-point plan for the strike team.

I don't usually post about Arcane here but I need a place to talk about it without word limits so here we are. Also my comparison between MTP's telling of A scandal in Bohemia and the og will be done at some point I have just been very distracted.

So the scene I'm focusing on starts here when Isha runs up to where Jinx and Vi are fighting, lying between them a pointing a gun at Vi to protect Jinx.

Now Isha is a kid that has accidentally wandered into Jinx's life and gotten attached to her enough to wish to try and save her from danger - a new found family for Jinx alongside Sevika (who gives aunt vibes to me). But not just any kid is going to run into the line of fire like this. If we know anything about Isha now it's that she's brave - really brave - but also shouldn't have to be in this position.

Taking at look at her face, Isha's expressions seem to flick between anger and fear quite quickly. There's the facial muscles around her nose often flaring for that anger, but also a deep fear you can see too.

I think it's how she maintains focus on Jinx whilst the gun is turned away to Vi that's interesting. It's clear that she's afraid of what Vi is doing and is focused mostly on protecting Jinx - so that gun isn't something she necessarily wants to fire. She occasionally kept trying to press the trigger, but her hesitation isn't necessarily that she can't, but that she doesn't want to. She had ample time to take a very clear shot but she doesn't (this is interesting when we think about Caitlyn nearby who is desperate to take a shot even if it's not completely clear - Isha's motive is protection whereas Caitlyn's is revengeful action). And once she is unarmed all she can do is cling to Jinx. Perhaps both for her protection of Jinx or for Jinx to protect her. Like how a child would cling to a mother or father or even a bigger sister. Isha is supposed to play the role of a younger sibling to, in my eyes, mimic that of Vi and Powder that Jinx is desperate to protect.

I wanted to move on to Vi because I think her reactions/expressions are the most interesting. You get to see her face a lot, and once Isha has the gun to her face the main expression is one of fear. Not fear for her own safety, but a fear for Isha's safety, AND a fear of what she's been doing as an enforcer.

When Isha has the gun, all Vi can focus on is this mystery child - who she's never seen before might I add- suddenly appearing to protect Jinx. Even if Isha is scared she's still trying to protect her, trying to help even. Perhaps Vi sees herself here, a kid just trying to protect her loved ones from the enforcers that oppressed them. Perhaps she sees Powder, a kid throwing themselves in harms way just to try to help. Either way, she sees an innocent kid putting themselves in the line of fire to protect their loved ones. Except this time Vi is the dangerous one, rather than the protector role she used to fill.

When the gun is knocked away we see Vi again, frozen in place as she stares at Isha clinging to Jinx. This one feels so much more like a face of realisation - that Jinx still has loved ones left and that Vi has become the problem she swore to destroy. She's become the enforcer who enters Zaun to 'clear stuff up' with no regard for how it affects the people of Zaun. Instead of a protecter, she has become an aggressor.

If you will, remember Caitlyn's 3 goals - 'Locate Jinx, Dismantle Shimmer, and neutralise any agents still loyal to Silco'. I feel that this is where Vi realises that those goals only truly help the people of Piltover rather than anyone in Zaun.

1 - 'Locate Jinx' - this is basically corporate speak for Caitlyn wanting to k!ll Jinx. Originally, Vi was fine with this, seeing Jinx as a 'monster she created' and who 'taints the memory of her sister' Powder. But in doing so, she now realises that she will leave people behind who care for Jinx - Isha in particular. She's seen in her life so many kids left behind after enforcers k!lled their parents/families who then turn to rebellion (INCLUDING HERSELF AND POWDER!!) that she knows if she k!lls Jinx here with Isha as witness that the cycle will only continue - more kids who turn to violence as a result of trauma. If she were to go through with it she'd have become a direct parallel to those enforcers who killed her own parents, and she's already become a parallel to the ones who terrorised her and her family in her childhood with her activities in the Zaun strike team (especially with their usage of the Grey).

2 - 'Dismantle Shimmer' - whilst the removal of this drug is a good thing for pretty much anyone, the way the team go about it creates huge problems. The team are specifically shown to simply burn large quantities of the stuff (in the opening montage to 'Hellfire') - not only does this add more dangerous gasses to the underground areas (which they've already been releasing the Grey into), but it also creates issues for addicts. With access to it simply cut off, a decent portion of the population who are addicted to it will experience pretty dangerous withdrawal symptoms which could even lead to d3ath. With no system in place, addicts are left entirely on their own, so the destruction of Shimmer like this only helps those in Piltover remove a threat to them without actually helping the people. Meanwhile higher-ups in Piltover like Salo can use it recreationally (for his tattoos, even if frowned upon as implied by Mel's conversation with Lest).

3 - 'Neutralise any agents still loyal to Silco' - I'm pretty sure the Chembarons are considered Silco loyalists due to the Zaun strike team's attack on one of Margot's brothels in episode 2. The Chembarons, now down to 3 of them, were heralded as the only leadership of Zaun besides Silco. Their infighting has caused major issues in Zaun, but their elimination will not necessarily help Zaun in the long run. The removal of the Chembarons will leave a power vacuum, much like the one already left by Silco, that others will only step into over time. The removal of leadership in Zaun will only cause more issues as up-and-comers will try to fill the power vacuum and build their own forces, eventually becoming a new threat but not without a long period of chaos as people try to build resources to fill the vacuum. Piltover needs the removal of those with current power and forces to remove any possible threats of attack like the attack on the councillor memorial. It is, again, only for the benefit of Piltover.

Vi had seen becoming an Enforcer as the only way to bring down Jinx (reinforced by Caitlyn's insistence of doing things together and also partly by Maddie talking about what Caitlyn did to get her the job) AND as a way of protecting Caitlyn, but now I feel that she has been able to see the negative affect she's been having on the people of Zaun - her own people. I think this is why Vi switches into doing anything she can to protect Isha and Jinx, her protective side for Powder kicking back in specifically.

Looking back at Jinx, she was so ready to d!e at Vi's hands until Isha appears. Her expression here is the clearest look at her emotions we really see in the sequence - concern and fear. We know she's not afraid of dying or k!lling (especially when she said earlier before the fight that she's not remorseful of orphaning kids as she's 'done it to herself enough'), but she's so visibly afraid of Isha being hurt, and afraid that Vi would be the one to k!ll Isha. She's grown attached to Isha more than she'd like to admit, perhaps even seeing similarities to her and Powder (especially in their desire to help their family).

Once Isha's gun is shot away she clings to Jinx. Jinx at first is trying to claw her off - get her away from the danger, telling her to 'scram', referring to her simply by 'kid' so she leaves and doesn't get hurt. But when Vi is just sitting there looking rather than attacking she brings Isha in closer as a form of protection and looks at Vi. The way she looks at Vi. That's fear. She's afraid of her own sister again. She's afraid her sister will hurt an innocent kid, who's just trying to help, with a punch again. All her face says is 'Don't hurt this kid'.

And it's devastating. Devastating for both Jinx and Vi. Jinx sees her sister as a threat, whereas Vi begins to see a bit of Powder in Jinx again. She sees herself about to repeat a mistake that previously cost her everything - leaving a child alone with no support. This is also part of what turns Vi to protect Jinx and Isha from Caitlyn.

Last but not least, Caitlyn.

Caitlyn's effect on this scene can sometimes be forgotten (I almost didn't include her in this analysis at all) but it's actually bigger than one may think. I mentioned before how her desperation to k!ll Jinx causes her to shoot even when her shot is not clear (and how it contrasts Isha's reluctance to shoot even with a clear shot), but there's also so much more. For one, she shoots at the gun Isha is holding almost without a second thought. She tries to shoot Jinx whilst Isha is clinging on to her almost without a second thought. She shoots Vi's gauntlets when she tries to stop her. She frankly is unhinged at this point, tunnel vision on k!lling Jinx with no regard for anyone else in this situation, not just Isha but Vi also.

Grief is a strange thing. It can create many reactions from people depending on their situation. In Caitlyn's case, her grief has morphed into a desire for revenge and a thirst for violence, strengthening her pre-established prejudices towards Zaunites that she was so adamant in reversing in season 1. In her grief there is one constant - blame for Jinx - that morphs into further prejudices towards Zaunites as a whole to justify her actions in her own mind. She similarly justified her tunnel vision in this fight with the idea that 'she wasn't going to miss' despite missing her shot multiple times already (specifically when she shoots to k!ll Jinx and only hits her middle finger).

Her actions here are what happens when grief takes control and her usual logic and reasoning is not able to intervene as much as usual. Her insistence on not harming innocents (seen early in episode one), her understanding of how Zaunites were treated unfairly (s1 episode 7) - it's all overshadowed by her grief. However, her grief doesn't excuse her actions - she's still making decisions based on her own internalised prejudices that with her grief are projected outwards and drive her actions.

This has all culminated here, where her tunnel vision has led to her hurting Vi and almost caused her to hurt an innocent child. She's this looming threat to the scene, her hextech rifle being probably the most powerful weapon here - and it's in the hands of someone who is vengeful and seemingly trigger-happy and in a position of power she was not ready for. If Vi was a big danger in Jinx and Isha's eyes at first, there's a bigger danger in Caitlyn, one that even Vi notices. And she's only going to get worse next arc.

[There could be more to say but I think this is a great place to end it! I may make more arcane posts as s2 releases but i'll have to see, I just really wanted to talk about this scene in particular it's just so interesting.]

[soldiersslut]

GHOST OF YOU — SOLDIER BOY "CHAPTER TWO"

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, herogasm, canon violence, Soldier Boy being himself and a smartass

Word Count: 3,649

Author's Note: I am so happy to see this story receiving so much love already. It really helps and pushes me further to continue with the story. There is so much I have planned, but all in due time. Thank you so much again!

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE LET ME KNOW. DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW, HEART, AND REPOST. THANK YOU AGAIN!

It was obvious you were exhausted, it was so bad to the point you did not hear everyone else wake up and talk about the plan for the day. Eventually, Butcher left to find food. Hughie was left in charge to control Soldier Boy and his radiation level. The less angry, the better. Soldier Boy remained on his side of the bed and watched TV. From time to time he would look down at you.

“Is she always a heavy sleeper?” he asked. Hughie looked up from his phone and observed.

“Yesterday was a hard day so I don’t blame her for sleeping in.”

Soldier Boy nodded and still stared. “I remember when I first met her, man, she was a firecracker. Nothing could get past her. It’s surprising to see her sleeping so peacefully like this.”

Hughie furrowed his eyebrows together. “I’m sorry, you two know each other?” That made no sense to Hughie. Last time Soldier Boy had awaken was back in the 70s. You weren’t even born yet.

“Are you stupid or fucking stupid? Of course I have. We served—” and on cue, Butcher entered with food. Hughie looked down at the radiation reader and realized it had gone up once again. Maybe it was best if Hughie doesn’t bring it up again. Though he will mention it to Butcher when they are alone.

Butcher dropped the food on the table and shook you to wake up. “Morning sunshine, get up and eat. I am going to head back out again in a bit to find the twins’ location.”

You opened your eyes and rubbed them. The sun was hitting your face and it was bothering you.

“I need a shower first,” you said. Quickly, you strode to the bathroom and locked the door. You stared at yourself in the mirror expecting to see bruises but there was nothing. The water pressure was not as strong as you would like it to be, so it took a bit longer than the normal shower time to finish. You were able to overhear everything and constantly rolled your eyes at Soldier Boy’s arrogant voice.

Soldier Boy was already becoming a headache, and you have yet to hold an actual conversation with him. The few moments you have heard him speak has been cruel and perverted.

He’s also suffered betrayal.

You sighed and wondered what else did Soldier Boy have inside his pandora box. He is unpredictable, and that made him dangerous. When the water began to run cold you knew it was time to get out. You dried off and put on the same clothes from yesterday.

Butcher had announced he had a contact who will be able to get him the TNT twins location.

“I am going with you.”

The more you avoided Soldier Boy the better. Last night’s words were still at the forefront of your mind and as much as you would like to ask him right now he is short-tempered and your attitude from last night hasn’t helped.

“Why the fuck can she go, but I cannot?” Soldier Boy demanded to know. You beat Butcher to the punch and rebutted back.

“Because you are Soldier Boy and at any moment anyone can recognize you. The last thing we need is you blowing up again and taking us down with us. So shut up, eat your food, and let us get to work.”

Soldier Boy’s jaw clenched. “You got a lot of fucking nerve talking to me that way. Last time I remember the men used to put women in their place. When the hell did society go wrong.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. Soldier Boy was a lot of things and maybe it should not be shocking he is being a misogynistic prick, but the fact he still thinks society has not moved on from that. “And you still wonder why you aren’t coming with us?”

That was the last thing you said before marching out of the room. Butcher wanted to ease the tension in the room, “might be that time of the month.” He left and followed you to the car. You were already inside with your arms cross.

“Don’t even think about making me apologize to him,” you warned.

Butcher let out a groan, “I won’t make you apologize but you need to butter it up with him. At the rate you are going he is going to bloody blast you. Do not let him get to you.”

You went on a rant after that.

“How do you expect me to not say anything to him? I am not going to worship the ground he walks on. If he wants respect then he needs to give it back.” Butcher agrees, but they need to be prioritizing the bigger picture and that is Homelander’s death in the hands of Soldier Boy.

Bucher decided to switch topics and discuss who was his contact. It is a C-list Supe who was friends with the twins before they were apart of Payback. The drive was over within an hour. “Let me do the talking, last thing we need is for you to make another enemy.”

If that was Butcher’s way to humor, he sucked. The Supe had no problem in giving away the location of the twins. On the drive back you decided to voice your concerns.

“Did I tell you what Crimson Countess said before her death?”

Butcher shook her head. You explained what happened inside the trailer and shared your concern with the way Soldier Boy acts around you. Granted, he is a dick but he allows you to talk to him the way you do. If it was anyone else he was quick to get offensive.

“Countess probably confused you with someone else. When you know you are at death’s door you are desperate to say anything, and with what you are telling me she was just trying to get under his skin,” he shrugged.

It still wasn’t convincing enough, “then why stare so fucking much?”

Butcher let out a chuckle. “Be serious, he’s been asleep since the 80s. He probably wants to pull his wanker and let one out at the thought of you.” You looked at him terrified.

He began to laugh just looking at your reaction. In the end you were convinced that it was all in your head and the answers were right in front of you. Upon returning Butcher informed Soldier Boy and Hughie that we will be heading out to Vermont.

Most of the conversation happened between Butcher and Hughie. You were sitting in the back with Soldier Boy and just like before, your knee touched his. Only difference this time is his hand was resting on his knee and his pinky reached out to touch your knee.

The car was parked a good distance away to avoid detection. The rest was walked on foot. “So, what is happening here?” you asked. Hughie looked through the binoculars and to both of your surprise this was herogasm.

Soldier Boy took pride in admitting that he founded it, and Liberty helped him with it. Your scrunched up face was obvious and he took notice. He smirked for a second and focused back the task at hand.

“Just give me three minutes,” Hughie suggested.

“I can go with him to cover more ground,” you offered yourself.

Soldier Boy shook his head. “Absolutely not. You are going to sit this one out.”

For a moment it felt like a vein popped on your temple. “The hell you mean I am staying here? I am not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself and the sooner we finish this the better.”

Soldier Boy’s jaw clenched again and he got closer. He towered over you. “Trust me, sweetheart, with the way you are speaking to me I wouldn’t want to save you. Honestly, where the fuck did this attitude come from?” he snapped.

“Has it ever crossed your mind that you are the problem?”

Hughie interrupted, “I’m just gonna go.” In seconds, he was gone and without his clothes.

You were too angry to argue with Soldier Boy, let alone look at him. Those three minutes felt too long. After time has passed, Butcher and Soldier Boy left to infiltrate.

“Stay,” Soldier Boy ordered and pointed his finger. The binoculars were handed it to you. You faked a smile and watched them leave. Like hell you were going to stay. As soon as they walked through the doors to the house you were on the move. Instead of entering through the front door you went through the pool door. You have seen a lot of things, but never in your mind would you have ever imagined a Supe orgy.

You did your best to avoid everything and everyone. The last thing you needed is to give someone the wrong impression, and anger Soldier Boy.

It was surprising to see one area of the house empty.

“MM,” you said, shocked to see him here. He was also shocked, but he knew that meant one thing. He called out to you demanding to know where Soldier Boy was. You explained the plan and noticed his eyes diverted behind you.

“One simple fucking order, you cannot even handle that?!”

You could recognize that voice anywhere at this point. Slowly, you turned and noticed just how angry Soldier Boy appeared. Though, between him and MM you weren’t sure who was angrier. Without wasting a second MM threw the halothane glass and Soldier Boy inhaled it in as if it were a Marlboro cigarette.

“MM, no!” you yelled, and tried to push him back but he was determined to fight Soldier Boy.

Butcher had to come in and stop Soldier Boy from proceeding further. He gave Soldier Boy the information he wanted.

“You are coming with me,” he ordered and yanked your arm; dragging you with him.

“Let go of me!” you yelled and started hitting him, but he was not budging. Both of you came to a stop in one of the living rooms and noticed the horribly aged TNT twins. Why is he so keen in taking you everywhere.

Crimson Countess was able to remain cool and calm partially, but these twins screamed guilty based on their reaction and stuttering. It was obvious how they tensed up almost to the point they froze on the spot.

“Holy shit, mimicry! You’re alive!” Tessa spoke up, sounding a little too excited. She opened her arms expecting some hug from you and she even dared to move closer. Soldier Boy stood in front of you.

“Don’t you dare come near her or I will rip those fucking arms off of you” he threatened.

Tessa backed up right away.

“What is she talking about? Who is Mimicry?” you asked. You placed your hand on Soldier Boy’s shoulder; trying to get him to move out of the way. Soldier Boy looked at your hand placement and then looked at you. This was his moment to test out his theory and ask once again who exactly are you.

“You’re Mimicry,” Tommy answered and let out a light but nervous laugh as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Mimi, please help us. Tell Ben that all of this was a mistake and we didn’t mean any of it.”

At this point the twins might as well get on their knees and beg. You could feel Soldier Boy tense up under your touch. You looked at him and noticed his behavior was completely off. He was no longer portraying a confident soldier. This time, you can see a man attempting to fight off his demons.

“The hell is wrong with you?” you asked. You stood in front of him and tried to make him snap out of it. The twins saw an opportunity and aimed for your back. Soldier Boy noticed and pushed you out of the way. You hit the wall and went unconscious.

When you woke up you had the biggest headache, and your back was sore. You remembered what happened before and quickly got up from the floor. People were crying, screaming, and there was lots of bodies everywhere. You let out a sentence full of profanities and walked around. Soldier Boy was nowhere seen, neither was anyone else.

You called out to Butcher, Hughie, and MM. Shit, you even called out to Soldier Boy. From a distance you could hear fists connecting to bones, bodies hitting the walls, buzzing sounds, and just a lot of fighting. You didn’t even have to say anything to see who was fighting. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the familiar United States cape fighting against Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Soldier Boy was thrown to the ground while Homelander choked Butcher. He raised him up from the ground.

“Hey!” you yelled, without giving it a second thought. You pulled out your gun from its holster and started shooting at Homelander. It was expected the bullets were not going to hurt Homelander but it is a big enough distraction he didn’t choke Butcher to death. Just as you predicted, Homelander dropped Butcher to the ground and turned to look at you.

Homelander burst out laughing, “and what exactly can a human do against me?” Without a second thought his eyes glowed red and aimed at you. It was instinctual to try and use your arms to block off the lasers, but they were not going to do shit against him. You had closed your eyes expecting the worse but nothing came your way. You opened your eyes and they went wide to see Soldier Boy in front of you, and holding off the laser with his shield.

“Not a damsel in distress, huh?!” he asked. Of course he had to be a smartass. “Listen to me for once and hide!”

You knew better now than to get in the way. This time you did listen to him and ran out. You were out of breath by the time you got outside. Annie called out to you. “We need you, there’s a lot of people hurt!”

This was the best thing to do. This is what you were good at. Without a second thought you began to help people as much as you can all until ambulances showed up and took over. Loud, shattered glass can be heard above and you looked up to see Homelander leaving in a rush. A wave of relief washed over you. Soldier Boy, Butcher, and Hughie walked out. Soldier Boy was looking through the crowd until he saw you.

You knew there was no fighting him in staying. You looked at Annie and MM. They were both frustrated at the thought of you leaving.

“I’m sorry,” you said and walked towards the other group. Soldier Boy was satisfied and all four of you left. They explained what happened with Homelander.

“I’m still waiting on the thank you.”

This was unavoidable, and it was tempting to roll your eyes but now was not the appropriate time.

“You will get your thank you when I feel like it,” you mumbled knowing he heard you.

Soldier Boy scoffed and shook his head. “Fuck! Nothing I do satisfies you!”

“Will you two give it a rest?! It has been a very long day” Butcher protested, obviously irritated.

“You want a thank you, fine! Thank you, Soldier Boy. Thank you for actually being a hero and saving someone. What would we ever do without you?” you sarcastically spoke.

Soldier Boy’s jaw clenched, “you know what, fuck you and I hope your pussy dries up every time some guy wants to screw you.”

“And I hope you get STDs.”

The car ride fell into a tensed silence. You nor Soldier Boy could say anything without provoking each other. Hughie asked Butcher where they will be going for the night, and there is only one place Butcher could think of.

The Legend.

It was approximately a five to six hour car ride. You were trying hard to not fall asleep but it was inevitable. Now that you were not on a fight or flight mode your body began to ache, and it demanded rest. By the time they arrived to Legend’s home you were in deep sleep. Hughie tried to wake you up.

“Let her sleep. She sounds better like this” Soldier Boy said.

He didn’t wait for Butcher or Hughie to say anything. He put the shield on his back and walked around the car to open your door. He opened it and caught you in his arms. You were so deep asleep you didn’t realize Soldier Boy had lifted you in his arms and carried you inside as if your the weight of paper.

Butcher knocked hard on the door. It was the middle of the night and they needed a place to rest. Legend was more asleep than awake when he heard the knock. He was ready to yell at whomever was waking him up at this hour but seeing Soldier Boy carry you in his arms, it was like deja vu.

“It has been a very long, and shitty day. Where can I put her down?” Soldier Boy asked. Legend was too shocked to say anything. It’s impossible for you to be alive. Butcher snapped Legend out of it and pointed to where the bedrooms are located. When Butcher, Hughie, and MM came to visit you weren’t with them.

“I need a drink,” Legend said.

“At this hour?” Hughie asked, sounding concerned.

Legend nodded and poured himself a drink all the way to the top. Soldier Boy walked out of the room where he placed you down, and marched towards Legend with purpose.

“Wait—” Soldier Boy did not give Legend a chance to speak. He grabbed him and lifted him up from the ground, slamming him against a wall. Butcher and Hughie rushed to get Soldier Boy off of Legend.

“I swear to you, Mimicry is dead! That isn’t Mimicry! It’s impossible!” Legend explained, fear can be heard in his tone.

“You’re lying! How is she here then?!”

Soldier Boy was angry, he was practically seeing red. Flashes of Mimicry’s body appeared in his mind. She died in his arms and yet, she is here.

“Because that isn’t her! I don’t know how it is possible but Vought retrieved Mimicry’s body from Russia. There was an open casket ceremony! I went and she got buried with her suit! I saw when they put her on the ground!”

Finally, Soldier Boy put Legend down.

“Can someone explain what the bloody hell is going on?!” Butcher was angry. Something was going on and everyone appears to be afraid to say something.

“You will not understand because Vought deleted everything about Mimicry, but she was a member of Payback for the longest time. She was Soldier Boy’s right hand and possibly the most loyal one to him. She died trying to break this one out of Russia. The Russians told Vought what happened and Vought believed the safest thing to do was to make everyone forget about her. Nowadays, no one knows she ever existed.”

The Legend moved to one of the drawers. He opened it and looked through it until he found what he was looking for. He handed it to Butcher.

“Holy shit,” said Hughie. Butcher and Hughie were speechless. It was you and Soldier Boy. His hand was around your waist, holding you close, and your arm was on his waist. The cameraman caught the perfect moment of the both of you staring into each other’s eyes. There was a smile on your face. It was the definition of a woman in love.

Legend continued to speak, “the person in the room is not Mimicry, unless she has demonstrated any superpower. That is not her.”

For Soldier Boy it felt like someone ripped through his chest and held a tight grip on his heart. The more Legend spoke, the more it got twisted.

“What were Mimicry’s powers?” Butcher asked.

“She was able to get any Supe’s power with a touch. Including my own,” Soldier Boy answered. This time he poured himself a drink.

“It still doesn’t make any sense. She is human, and obviously Mimicry isn’t. We have seen pictures of her growing up and having a normal life. She has never shown any powers” Hughie explained.

“The woman in the room isn’t Mimicry.” Soldier Boy had been in denial of it but he remembered your hand on his shoulder back at herogasm, and yet there was no display of power.

“If this isn’t Mimicry, how is it she looks exactly like her? Did Vought clone her?” Hughie and Butcher had so many questions.

Legend shook his head, “if they were going to start cloning Supes I would have heard something by now. Truthfully, there is no explanation. Almost as if God and heaven, or even the devil, wanted to give Mimicry another chance at life. She always dreamed of a family, sadly it was taken away from her. She had a baby and that baby lived, and so on. What I can guarantee is that she is from Mimicry’s lineage.”

Soldier Boy stared out the window with the cup on his hand. Once again he felt himself lied to. He was being given something back, and now it feels like it got taken from him.

Your entire existence is a sick and twisted lie, and he despises you for carrying her face. He is reminded every time he has to look at you.

“This has never happened before with any Supes ever. Word is barely spreading that Supes can have babies when Mimicry was the first to ever have one a long time ago. If Vought finds out about her existence,” Legend warned and pointed to the room where you continued to sleep, “they will come for her.”

Next Chapter: Chapter Three

Author's Note: Phew! A lot got unpacked and I hope it is making sense! We will be speeding through the end of season three (with a few changes) in one or two chapters, and afterwards it will be my take of season four and further on. Thank you so much again for all the love and support!

Tagged List: @seven709 @sadpods @mayafatimakhan @deans-spinster-witch @justiceforquentin @ultracarpediemfan @bitchykittenconnoisseur @spacecowgirl126

[bedoballoons]

Lyney, Lynette, and Wrio when their sweet Fontanian SO takes a splash of primordial sea water intended for them?

Ahhh this is so sad and yet so romantic and sweet at the same time. I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request, sorry it took so long to write!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Splish splash~༺}

CW: Angsty! Reader gets turned to water to save the character! Characters reactions included with no comfort :(

(Includes: Lyney, Lynette, and Wriothesley!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney was powerless, all he could do was sit there and stare at you with pure terror in his eyes, how could you...the love of his life who deserved to live far more than he felt he did... take his splash of death? Of all the ways the battle could have ended, he never assumed he'd be loosing you and to watch...as your body dissolved before his very eyes...he'd never felt such a numb feeling in his entire life. Even with all the things he'd experienced...none of them ever left him gasping for air and panicking with no end in sight.

"Why...why....WHY WOULD YOU D-DO THIS?!"

His hat fell to the floor as he screamed, raw emotions escaping him in that moment that if anyone heard...could feel his pain.

𑁍༄Lynette:

Lynette couldn't breath...she was trapped in slow motion with her eyes trained on the Primordial seawater that was intended to end her life, even if she tried to get away...even if the water didn't drench her...the smallest drop could leave her nothing but a puddle. It was like she mentally prepared for that ending, emotionless as the glittering water flew towards her...if only she'd been prepared for you to step in..

You stepped in front of her with barely a millisecond to spare, your eyes meeting as the water splashed against your back...all you could do was give her a reassuring smile as you as you fell to the ground...dissolving with almost no trace.

She fell to her knees, unable to form a single thought, unable to stop the tears that rolled down her otherwise emotionless features. She was in such a state of shock...that her skin had gone white, "N-no...no. N-n-no. It was s-supposed to be me. I-i could have handled it b-being me...no...not you."

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

Wriothesley knew his life was dangerous, he worked in a prison that was located entirely underwater and filled to the brim with dangerous criminals, not to mention that the building itself was storing a large amount of primordial seawater that could turn him into nothing but water in seconds, but none of that really mattered anymore. He got used to the idea he could go at any moment, he just used that to his advantage, living every day to the fullest. Especially when it came to you.

That's why when the primordial seawater was thrown at him, he was ready to accept fate, yes he's feel bad for leaving you...but as long as you made it out alive he considered it the best outcome. If only you had just followed his plan...

"No! What are you-"

He tried, but it was to late. You'd already been consumed by the water and in seconds you were gone along with it, he didn't even know why. Why would you save him? Something in him snapped, wether it be his heart or sanity...he didn't care, he didn't care if he made it out alive or dead. None of it even mattered, his life was now suddenly without purpose...he was empty inside.

"Why..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[yummymitzy]

Hi! I love your writing! Could you write a part two to Dangerous, right? Maybe it's their first mission or Nat needs a rescue and sees the reader's true form? Can you make it really angsty with a happy ending though?

Dangerous, Right? Part II

Summary: Hydra mission goes wrong on Natasha’s side, but did everything else go wrong?

Pt I

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader , Lucifer Morningstar x Reader (platonic)

WC: 2320

A/N: Sorry if it’s not as angsty as you expected😭😭

ᨖᨖೱᨖ⧗ᨖⴵᨖ🕷️ᨖⴵᨖ⧗ᨖೱᨖᨖ

Tonights mission wasn’t any different from any other mission, infiltrate the base and grab the necessary intel without suspicion. Until it wasn’t easy anymore, she hadn’t suspected that they’d be waiting for her.

It happened all so quickly for Natasha, one minute she was confident she’d make it home before the night falls; then the next minute a group of agents ambush her.

She felt almost embarrassed that she’s got herself in this position, but she’d dwell over that later.

The agents were quick on their feet, never faster than her. Her only negative was that she was out numbered, she didn’t feel any better when more agents swarmed through the door.

Her heart was thrumming in her ears while she clutched her fists tighter, the surrounding agents were sprawled on the floor of the room. Natasha’s adrenaline was so high, she hadn’t felt the blood soaking through the leather encasing her waist.

Once the adrenaline slowed, a sharp pang shot through her side. Reaching her hand down and grazing it against the wound, blood was all she saw on her fingertips. Cursing under her breath, she couldn’t believe how she let this mission turn to shit.

The sound of heavy footsteps outside the door caught Natasha’s attention, it wasn’t one person either. This really should have been the one day she would have taken a day off, Natasha thought.

She wanted to be at home, the compound, watching White Chicks with her friends while her eyes slowly drift towards you, losing focus of the movie. She hadn’t meant to be so forward with you during your first interaction.

It just felt all too fast for Natasha, she’s grown used each and every one of them with every moment that passed by. She never expected she’d had to repeat that process all over again when you and your brother turned up at the door.

Feeling guilty wasn’t a foreign feeling for Natasha, but this emotion felt more overwhelming than usual. Was it because she was on the brink of dying? She wasn’t sure.

She felt guilty for all of the innocent people she’s killed, guilty for the people who she wasn’t able to save. Guilty for how she acted with you. If only. Just if only she had spent her time getting to know you instead of judging.

Unbeknownst to her, FRIDAY was quick to alert the team of her condition. Right as FRIDAY displayed Natasha’s vitals, you were out the room, determined to get to her.

“Y/N!”

A strong voice echoing the hall of which you were rushing to get out of. Time wasn’t on your hands even if you wished that it were.

“Y/N! Take me with!”

The strong voice yelled once more. You had already known it was Lucifer from the start, his stern voice wasn’t one you were able to miss.

“Then catch up. I’m not waiting around.” You said over your shoulder, footsteps never faltering as you rushed down the corridor. The heavy footsteps behind you were all you needed to know.

“Do you think we’re able to make it fast enough with the quinjets?” Lucifer huffed behind you once you stepped foot onto the landing pad of the building.

“Ohh, no. Those things are slow.” You huffed a laugh as your wings extended behind you. Sparing a glance at Lucifer, a look of confusion was painted on his face, accompanied with a hint of exasperation.

“Now hurry up and catch up! If I hear that she’s dead, your grave will be dug next to hers!” You yell over your shoulder, feet lifting off the platform as you drive through the air towards Natasha’s location.

-

Dying really wasn’t the best feeling. It was a feeling Natasha became familiar with, it came with the job. But this time, it felt different.

The pit in her stomach wasn’t from pain, it was an emotion she couldn’t define. What was it? Was it guilt? Natasha questioned, until the emotions began rushing through her.

She didn’t know what she’d die first from, the guilt or her wound. She felt sorry for how she made you and your brother feel unwelcome, it was a defense mechanism she wasn’t able to shake off.

Neither of you deserved that, it was barely your guys’s first day and the tension she created was unbearable. She was angry, frustrated with herself that she had judged your character. A hint of sadness also resided within Natasha, a foreign feeling to her. She was upset she wasn’t able to establish a great relationship with you, she wanted to be your friend, maybe more.

But that couldn’t happen now, and she was scared. Being afraid was an emotion she crossed paths with too many times to count. She was afraid of dying, afraid of not being able to clean the red off of her ledger, afraid of not being able to start off new with you.

Natasha had came to peace with the idea of dying, but not like this. She wanted to die once her ledger was cleaned, once her life didn’t feel like she was living off of the same schedule everyday.

She didn’t want to die with the guilt of her past weighing on her shoulders, she wanted to be free of that. Letting out a shaky sigh, she slowly seated herself onto the floor ; leaning upright against the wall as her hand tightly clutches her wound in an attempt to ease the bleeding.

Was Natasha close to dying before? Yes. But it never left her this fucking exhausted. She felt as though she was trying to compete against the two supersoliders in a race and still graciously lost.

Her worries eased as the surrounding area around Natasha blurred. Natasha’s head felt lighter and the tension in her body slowly lifted, and the pain from her wound numb enough to leave the throbbing. Natasha wasn’t against death if it was ever this calm, if she doesn’t include how she died.

The moment she shut her eyes, an explosion immediately caught her attention. So maybe she wasn’t going to die peacefully after all, she thought. Her eyes darted around the room, the room seemed untouched, meaning that explosion wasn’t near.

Huffing, her head lulled back, her eyes burning holes into the ceiling above her. Until the explosion reached her ears again, the pain in her side increasing tenfold. The explosion sounded more closer this time.

But before Natasha could dwell on it more, the door to the room she lays in opens. Two silhouettes were all she could make up due to the blinding light behind them. Were they here to kill her off? Might as well.

“It’s a quick in and out, don’t bother wasting time on any other agents.” A familiar voice stated, the owner of the voice stepping closer to her. Was it you? Was it really you? Why had you gone all this way to save her? Especially when she made you feel so unwelcome.

“..Y/N?” She croaked out, her voice wavering from not being used for a good minute. Her vision clearing slightly once the figure that she now knows is you is stood right in front of her.

She hears another body drop once more and she doesn’t need to turn her head knowing it’s an agent. Once her vision clears up, she’s shocked. Natasha wasn’t expected to be greeted with another sight other than your face.

Well it was your face, but different. It seemed more…devilish. Horns protruding out of your hair and curving away from your face, much like a goat. Your irises shone a bright red as your wings fluttered behind you. The only thing she could make out of your features was compassion, and something else she couldn’t define.

“Hey, Nat. We’re going to take you home, okay?” Your voice drops to a softer tone than she’s ever heard, she wishes to hear it more often. The guilt once more pangs against her heart, how could you be so kind to seek her out with how she treated you?

She hummed, that was the only response she could give at the moment. She was shocked, she understood why you were placed in the Avengers now, you really did have potential. She never doubted that for a moment. But that wasn’t her reason.

She was speechless to how you flew all this way without the quinjet all just for her? If she felt guilty then, then she felt even more guilty now. She wasn’t even sure if you really had forgiven her, consoling her in the dead of night.

Black spots started to form in the corner of Natasha’s eyes, vision becoming blurred once more before her eyes shut. The action sent a panic through your body. It was as if somebody had dumped cold ice water on you.

You didn’t waste any time rushing towards Natasha’s limp body. Sending a look towards Lucifer, you bolted towards the nearest window and slammed your side into it, preventing any shards from impaling the already injured woman.

You’ve flown countless of times before, but flying with a limp person in your arms?

The adrenaline kept you on your feet, as you drove through the wind. The gusts of wind kept you in reality, and the city lights looked beautiful from above. Only if the situation at hand wasn’t so drastic, you would have taken Natasha to gaze with you as a way to mend your friendship. relationship?

The flight back to the compound was incredibly fast, you didn’t even wait a minute before rushing towards the medical bay. Stealing a glance down towards the redheaded woman you’re carrying, she looked peaceful. Ever yet more graceful than she already is.

Why hadn’t she alerted any one of her state? Why did you and the rest of the team have to find out from FRIDAY?

Questions were piling in your head at 100 mph, your feelings are conflicting. You felt worried for Natasha, guilty that you hadn’t been there sooner, and another emotion. Was it admiration? Did you like Natasha? Fuck that, you’ll focus on that when she gets better, if she even does.

Once you reached the med bay, Dr.Cho immediately took over. The worry for Natasha was filling your bones, you had just met her but you felt as though the both of you could be so much more.

You shut your eyes, Dr. Cho was quick and efficient and you trusted her skills.

You didn’t know how long your eyes had been shut until Dr. Cho tapped you awake. Her worried gaze was the first thing you saw.

“She’s stable and the wound should heal nice, all that’s left is for her to wake up.” She stated, her words slow as she was trying to find the right words to ease your racing mind.

“Alright. Thanks doc.” Not once have you looked away from Natasha’s sleeping form. She looked gorgeous, even in a hospital bed.

You were true to your words that very night. You forgave her, there wasn’t anything to hold against her even if you thought harder about it. There wasn’t anything about her that you would dislike, her radiating smile, her fiery hair and personality, the kindness and compassion she holds with her teammates.

One twitch from her fingers was all it took for your thoughts to vanish. She was awake.

Seeing her eyes flutter open left you breathless. All the worries disappears when you saw her forest green eyes peer up at you.

“Hey Nat. How are you holding up?” You sat up, watching her in your peripheral while you fixed her a glass of water. Accepting the glass, she was quick to finish it, her eyes peering up at you once more as you placed the glass on a nearby table.

“Feels like I’ve been shot.” Apparently her attempt at joking didn’t fly past you from the glare you sent towards her.

Taking a deep sigh, she looks you dead in the eyes, a genuine glint shining in them.

“I feel like I should really apologize, Y/N. Although you said you forgave me, it doesn’t make up for all of the things I said.”

“Nat-“ “No, let me finish, I need to say this.” Your eyes widened a fraction before staying silent once more. Natasha shouldn’t feel the need to apologize to you when you already forgave her.

“All the things I said, it was unnecessary, not to mention not professional. I couldn’t help but judge, I felt like Fury just let you guys in the team like it was an open audition.” She huffed a laugh before continuing once more.

“You saving me proved that you really are worth being on the team. I never meant to hurt you, I just felt….protective, this team grew to be my family and I felt forced to trust you and Lucifer so quick. I’m really sorry, Y/N, you don’t have to feel bound to empathize with me. I just wanted to let you know of my intentions.”

You were shocked to say the least, the words that spilled from Natasha’s mouth brung tears to your eyes. You fought hard to not let the tears spill as you processed the information.

Neither were you able to find any words to respond to Natasha’s speech. Natasha noticed that, retracting herself from you with insecurity written on her face. She expected you to turn against her and leave her alone in the room.

Next thing Natasha knew was feeling a warmth embrace her, you were hugging her. Carefully raising her hands, she embraced you further, her hold on you becoming tighter as you both shared a moment that will impact your relationship forevermore.

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER NINE ▪︎ WE HAVE TO GET BACK (6.2k)

It took you almost all day to walk around the town and find the truck again. There's a note stuck in the windshield when you get there- it's from Chan, saying they're holed up in a school with some other survivors they met, a map with the location circled sitting in the driver's seat. You choose to sit with Han and Chaeryeong in the back, her head on your lap, and unshed tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Han says nothing, just holds her hand and watches the buildings pass by.

The school isn't far, taking under twenty minutes to get to. When you arrive, you can see it's defenseless, sitting in the open with no sign of life. None of the doors open. Minho bangs a fist on the last one in hopes someone will open it. There are noises beyond the doors, whispers and shuffling, what sounds like something being moved out of the way. The door swings open and you're quickly being ushered inside by someone you've never seen before, spotting Chan leaning in the doorway of a classroom to your left. Han enters behind you, still holding Chaeryeong bridal style, and Chan's arms drop from where they were crossed over his chest as he steps away from the doorway.

"What happened?" He's taking Chaeryeong from Han, lying her on the ground and taking in her lifeless body. "Jisung, what happened?"

Chan's voice is thick with emotion, hands tracing over her face and arms much like you and Han did when she fell. You kneel on the other side of her body, taking one of Chan's hands in yours, but he flinches away.

"She saved me," You whisper. Chan looks up at you, jaw clenched. "I'm sorry Chan. It should've-"

"Don't you dare say it should've been you." He grits. "It shouldn't have been anyone."

"What's going o-" Jeongin stops dead in the doorway Chan was just in. He's looking at Chaeryeong, but he's not really looking, his stare far off somewhere else.

No one speaks as the others join, Hyunjin and Felix kneeling down next to Chan by her head. Silent tears drip down Felix's cheeks, a reminder of how close they were. You can't imagine the pain he's in, that anyone around you is in; if it hurts this much for someone who's known Chaeryeong for less than a year, how much hurt are those who have known her so much longer feeling?

Minho clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I have an idea." When no one talks, he continues. "There's a field of cherry blossom trees not too far away from here. We can take her there, have a proper funeral."

"Old fashioned," Seungmin comments. "But I like it, she would love that."

"It's what she deserves." Your fingers graze her forearm, landing in her hand and holding it tightly. Despite what you've been taught, you let the tears fall when you look back at her face. She's cold, so cold. Although it's always sounded like bullshit to you, you can't help but hope she's in a better place now, somewhere not so scary and dangerous, somewhere she can be happy. There won't be a day that passes you won't think of her.

"Let us help you restock and get out." A woman behind you says, the same one who opened the door for you.

Leaving you alone in a room full of supplies, you begin to grab what you need. After everything you've been hit with these past few days, a total restock is very much needed. There are more weapons than you've seen since leaving the Quarantine Zone, reminding you of the massive weapons lockers kept underground in that old home. You don't wonder where these people got this sort of weaponry, but you find you don't care. Knowing your machete lies in the back of the truck under the seat, you only grab some sharp throwing knives to strap onto your chest and another two on your thigh. One knife sits sheathed and tucked away in a corner, almost like someone is hiding it for themselves, but the beauty doesn't miss your eye. It's dagger-like, the handle blue and pointed with dragonfly wings sticking out where the blade meets, adding a bit of weight to the little thing. You slide it onto your belt.

Once everyone has collected what they need, you're let out of the school. The kindness of these strangers won't be forgotten by you; you hope you live long enough to come back and thank them properly one day, or even become the kind stranger yourself.

Chan leads the group back to the truck, still too many people to fit inside. Jeongin offers to sit with Chaeryeong in the backseat, head on his lap, with Hyunjin driving and Seungmin in the passenger's side. You're sitting between Chan and Minho against the back window, Han tucked into his corner on the far side, and Changbin making small talk with Felix in between. Lily is across from them, watching the scenery go by quietly, but the look on her face tells you everything you need to know. Carefully, you crawl beside her despite Minho complaining you're taking his warmth.

"It's not your fault." You start, putting a hand up when Lily begins to protest. "Let me finish. It's not your fault Chaeryeong got hurt or that we got captured in the first place. You didn't choose to find Hannah, you didn't choose to have us follow you, you didn't choose any of this, so how could it be? We all knew the risks when we followed Chan out here. There was never a moment we thought it'd be easy." You sigh, leaning your head back with your eyes closed. "Of course, I'm being a hypocrite. I blame myself too."

"Why?" Lily asks. "Like you said, you didn't choose to be taken-"

"No, but I chose not to kill Officer Song when we should have, and now look what happened," You argue softly. "If I let Minho- if I didn't hesitate, she would still be alive."

"I know saying it's not your fault won't make you feel any better, but you still said it to me knowing the same," Lily says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's not your fault. None of this is."

For the rest of the ride, you sit next to Lily and make the occasional comment to her about things you pass. It's nearly the end of the day by the time you make it to the field, the sunset seeping through the tree branches and painting everything in a vibrant shade of orange. Chan had been smart to grab a few shovels from the school, him, Han, and Changbin all beginning to dig between two trees. You get to work on a makeshift grave marker, two sticks held onto a longer one with some string you found in the glove box to match your dragonfly dagger. You know she would have loved it and tried stealing it from you only to return it later that night. With some dirt and water, you cake on two dots on the top of the long stick to create eyes.

"Here, try this." Lily offers some string netting, tying it to the sticks to create wings. "Perfect, you did a great job Y/n."

The sun has gone down, and a cold wind has started up by the time the hole is finished being dug. You wipe the sweat off your forehead, having taken one of the last shifts, and climb out with the help of Hyunjin. Jeongin stands nearby with the raggedy blanket you kept on the backseat of the truck, placing it neatly on the ground. Seeing it laid out like this, you didn't realize quite how big it was, but Jeongin must have known. In the corner, you see the initials LC embroidered with pink thread standing out on the dirty yellow. Chan takes it upon himself to take Chaeryeong from the truck and set her on top, carefully folding the edges over to cover her completely. Once she's wrapped, he holds her torso and looks to whisper something in her ear before he hooks an arm under her legs. You watch him jump back into the hole, placing her body down one final time.

Each of you take turns saying something, anything to preserve her memory. By the end, there's no shame for you in seeing each other cry, even Minho and Seungmin having to turn around to avoid being seen. Moonlight seeps through the cherry blossom's branches, petals falling over her as you say your final goodbyes. It takes time to bury her, a team effort, and once you've thrown the last handful of dirt, you grab the grave marker.

"Jeongin," You say, turning to face him, holding the wooden piece out to him. "You should do it."

"M-me?" Jeongin stutters, pointing at himself.

"Just do it." You urge.

Hesitantly, he takes the marker from you and stands at the front of the dirt mound. Before digging it into the earth, Jeongin takes out a knife and carves her initials into the stick as best as he can. He chokes back a sob when it penetrates the ground, hanging his head so the tears don't drip down his cheeks.

Nobody talks on the ride out. Nobody is cracking jokes or commenting on the rain starting. Nobody acknowledges the sniffling coming from the back or the noises you have to make to keep from sobbing. Nothing is said, nothing is done; Chan is driving, and you're doing everything you can to hold it together.

-

"There."

A large sign greets you as you enter the coastal city on foot, your truck having broken down again a few kilometres back. Water comes up to your ankles, prominent flooding in the streets making it hard to walk. Hours pass before Lily points out the domed building she mentioned before, a big white stadium glowing in the gloomy atmosphere. There's still a distance between you and the dome, a large gap in the concrete falling into rushing water far below. Standing at the edge, you peer into the dark rapids and feel dizzy, but almost hypnotized.

Moving in the wind is a long, wooden bridge. It doesn't look the most stable, but it's your only choice to cross to the other side. Looking behind you, Lily moves first to go. The bridge is narrow, and she makes sure to hold onto both sides of the structure as she crosses. There are a few missing pieces she has to step over carefully, the bridge creaking and groaning as she walks slowly across. Once she makes it to the other side, Chan begins leading your group over a few at a time. Then it's just you, Han, and Felix. Felix is halfway across when you speak.

"Han, you go-" You nod, but he interrupts you.

"No," Han gestures his hand toward the bridge. "I'll go right after you, okay? I don't trust the wind not to push you down."

"What about you then? You'll risk your life?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Someone has to, and I'm not letting it be you again," He says, staying put by the end of the bridge, one hand resting on the railing.

"Promise me you'll join when I'm half way then, okay?" Han starts to protest, but you shake your head and hold up a hand. "Promise."

"Fine." He grumbles, nodding his head at the makeshift structure. "Just get on."

Rolling your eyes, you start the walk. It's a lot harder getting over than you thought it might be, the wind threatening to push you off the edge constantly, your body as low as it can be without laying down completely. At the halfway point you turn around and see Han has kept his promise, beginning his own trek. The rain makes it hard to see your final destination, but you think you can still see Felix holding onto the other side. With one arm in front of your face to shield your eyes from the oncoming rain, you persevere. There's a rock in the bridge that you assume is Han climbing on behind you, but when it rocks again, you realize it's the wind with a tightening of fear in your chest. With another gust, you're stopped in place clinging onto the wet wood desperately, one more and you're face first with a large gap in the planks. As you go to jump over, your foot slips.

Your scream is cut short, someone grabbing onto your arm at the last second before you can fall too far; Han. He's looking down at you with wide eyes, his hair and the hood of his jacket obscuring his face and covering it from the harsh weather. With his body completely flat on the bridge, he's struggling to try and pull you up, wet hand slipping into yours. There's panic evident in his face, enough to match the feeling in yourself. So many close calls with zombies and what's going to take you out is a wet bridge, like, c'mon. You can hear shouting, but neither you nor Han can bear to rip your eyes away from each other as you continue to sway and slip further down. In a last effort to save you, Han swings his other arm over to clutch your forearm, beginning to pull you up, Felix joining on the other side. He has his hand out, ready to try grabbing either of you in case of a fall, despite the distance. Right when you think you're in the clear, a huge gust of wind causes your body to shift in Han's grip, and you fall.

Someone shouts from above, your fingers slipping from Han's as he tries to grab you again. Now you're face to face with him; he slipped trying to grab you. There's another figure above you, and you feel your heart drop.

Water overtakes you, plummeting deep into the rushing waves of this apocalypse-made river, the force tearing you and Han away from each other. You're struggling to resurface with the speed you're going, the freezing cold temperature bone-deep, causing your movements to become stiff and sluggish. You feel yourself hit something in the water, holding on and using it to help you climb above the water. As soon as your head pops up, you're taking a huge gasp and taking in your surroundings. Not too far down, there's a laundry wire connected by two crumbling buildings, low enough for you to grab onto if you propel yourself in the right direction. Kicking off from whatever it is you're holding, too much of it underneath to tell what is is exactly, you launch yourself toward the wire. The rapids make it difficult to stay above water, but you reach a hand up and latch onto the wire with one hand, stretching with a shout to grab onto it with another.

There's a body coming toward you, and even with the water flushing into your vision, you can tell who it is. Han sees you and copies your previous movements, holding onto the wire next to you. Before either of you can try and use it to get to dry land, you spot someone else coming your way and squint in the darkening atmosphere- it's Felix. He's in and out of the water, clearly disoriented, and you know he won't be able to grab on. Looking over to Han, you make a silent plan and both reach out between you, barely catching underneath Felix's arms as he passes between you two. With weak arms, he grabs the wire in the spot above him and follows you up as you begin your ascent. It's hard, using all of your upper body strength to reach the balcony it's attached to, only slightly easier once your whole body has been uncovered by water.

Inside, you collapse on the broken stone balcony and heave, but nothing comes up. You crawl inside through the broken glass doors of the apartment, but as soon as you do, something is launching itself at you and pinning you to the ground. With a surge of adrenaline, you're able to keep the zombie from sinking its teeth into your skin, one hand on each of its shoulders. Throwing it off of you, it quickly regains speed and twists toward you again, and you barely roll out of the way. It crashes into a TV stand and knocks a plant down, but it doesn't seem phased as it spins around and hisses at you. Taking your new dagger from your hip, you stand and ready yourself for the next attack as you see Felix and Han stumble into the building, still outside the doors. That second is all it takes for the zombie to take advantage, running at you and throwing you against a bookshelf. You cry out, dropping the dagger. Ducking down, you avoid another attack and pick up your weapon, slashing the zombie's Achilles heel as you get back up, one final stab to the forehead. It goes limp, falling at your feet, and you collapse again in exhaustion.

"Y/n!" Despite his matching exhaustion, Han drops down by your side as you fall. Helping you lean against the bedframe, he looks you over.

Felix joins you, sitting on your other side. There's a trail of blood going down his ear from his hair, nearly covering his ear as well. When you all fell in the water, he must have hit his head on something- hard.

"Felix, your head-" You reach a sluggish arm over to inspect it, and he hisses at the contact.

"I'll be fine. Mild concussion at best." Felix cups your hand with his, bringing it back down. "I can use some of the sheets off the bed to wrap my head. Are you okay?"

"Yeah... yeah, I think so." You nod, eyes falling to the floor. "Just tired."

Examining the room, you see the state of it is less worn than most apartments. You have to assume it's from the flooding- nobody is coming in or out of these buildings. It's a bedroom, that much is clear, with a simple bed and dresser across from it, a broken TV hanging from the wall. Not much personality, maybe belonging to someone who had long since moved out prior to the outbreak.

"Give me a minute, then we can go when you're ready," Felix says, his voice soft.

He moves from next to you, and you can hear him messing with the old sheets and blankets behind you as you lean your head against he plush surface of the mattress. Han stays crouched by your side, and you can feel his stare on you.

"I'm fine, you don't have to watch me." You open your eyes, head rolling to look at him. "Everything's just caught up, I guess. I haven't had the chance to rest in over a day."

"But we stopped at that house-" Han starts, but you shake your head.

"I kept patrolling, just in case. Chan did too... he's probably in a similar state to me right now." Sitting up straighter, you look outside to see the weather has calmed; you must have traveled far. "He's probably worried sick, but at least he'll have his sister."

"If they weren't lying." Han stands, distrust clear in his voice. "They might not even really have Hannah."

He's right, and you know he is, but the thought of Lily lying to you about Hannah doesn't feel right. Felix comes back around the bed, a makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around his head and under his bangs. It really just looks like a type of bandana. Reaching a hand down, Felix helps you stand up. Although you're a bit dizzy on your feet, you know you need to power through. That is, until Han places a hand on your shoulder.

"You need to rest," He says, and you almost think he looks... concerned. "Seriously, we can't have you looking like you're about to pass out."

"But-" You start, but Felix cuts you off.

"No, no buts. He's right." Felix pushes you down lightly by the shoulder to sit you on the edge of the bed. "All of us could use a minute to breathe after all that."

With a reluctant sigh, you lie down on the bed, watching as the other two leave the room. Listening closely, all you can hear are noises of furniture being moved- in front of the front door, you assume. No more yelling or inhuman sounds, a good sign. It takes everything in you to not join them, forcing yourself to get as comfortable as you can on this hard rock of a mattress.

After a while, the sky begins to dim. You watch through the window from the bed as the sun lowers, pinks and oranges painting the scenery. It's beautiful, truly, and you once again find yourself wondering what life might have been like before. Could you see yourself living in a little apartment like this, with friends or by yourself, watching the sunset without worry? Could you picture yourself coming home and kicking your shoes off, relaxing with a hot meal and a movie as you wind down for the night? It all seems so far away; a life that was never meant for you. No, you're built for survival, for dangerous wilds and not knowing what will come next. This is what your brain is hardwired for, although, it would be nice to just live. You lean over the bed, taking the stuffed monkey from your bag.

-

It's completely dark by the next time you open your eyes. There's a shift of weight at the end of the bed, and you blink to see Han sitting down looking at something in his hands. Leaning up, you see what looks like a little box in his hand, part of it glowing a light blue.

"What is that?" You ask, voice thick with sleep.

Han turns around, clearly startled that you're awake. He clears his throat and turns his body to face you better.

"An MP3 player. You didn't have these in the QZ?" You shake your head. "Oh. It plays music, but I don't use it often so it doesn't die on me. There's only one song on it, wanna hear?"

He passes you a little pod attached to a wire and you take it, placing it in your ear like he has the other. After a beat of silence, you hear a guitar start to play, then vocals. More instruments join the melody, and you find yourself shifting to sit next to Han on the edge of the bed. The music vibrates through your body as the song continues, the emotion coursing through you. You can see why he likes it so much. Once the song finishes, you're disappointed there isn't more. Han wraps the little wired pods around the device and pockets it; that must be his one thing, you think.

"I liked it," You say softly, looking down at his hands.

"I listen to it when things seem impossibly difficult. Like, we don't know if we'll make it back to the others, or if they're okay, or what is going to happen to us." Han leans back on his palms, looking up to the ceiling with a soft exhale, but you can tell his own words are getting to him. "What if something's already happened to the others and we never got to even say goodbye-"

"Stop." You say suddenly. Han looks at you, confused. "No what-ifs, okay? You're going to drown in them."

You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. He's looking at you, really looking at you, and it takes everything in you to keep your eyes locked on his when his gaze is so intense. Han gives you a light nod, then stands with your hand still in his, helping you up from the hard bed. The sound of rushing water fades as you leave the bedroom with the broken glass doors and enter a near pristine- for the apocalypse- living area.

Felix is lying on a red sofa that's pushed against the far wall with his back faced to you, seemingly asleep. When he rolls over upon hearing you enter the room, it startles you slightly. None of you talk as he gets up and grabs his bag from the other side of the sofa, silently making the decision to leave before the sun comes up. There's already a familiar light blue tinge to the edge of the sky as you take one final glance out the window, a sigh escaping your lips. How nice it would be to live in a place like this; how nice it would be to love in a place like this.

As you descend down a few staircases, it becomes clear you'll have to find another way out of this building. The lower levels are completely flooded, causing you to groan in frustration. How are you supposed to get around this?

"Look." Felix's voice breaks your frustrated thoughts, and you look to where he's pointing out of a broken stairwell window. "Across the water- those people."

People? You crouch down by the window, thankful for the greenery coming down in vines to allow some cover. Through the plants, you spot someone tying a boat to what looks like a makeshift dock, another person by their side. It's hard to see what they look like, over-sized cloaks drawn over their heads in the already dim lighting, but you swear one of them has orange hair. As you peek through, you can see them talking before entering the building the dock is connected to. It looks to be some kind of old storefront, and you can't help wondering if that's where they live.

"Crazy idea, but what if we take their boat?" Han whispers his suggestion, looking down at you from where he's standing beside the window.

"We can't do that!" Felix whispers back from the other side of you. "We're not that desperate."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like a pretty good idea to me." You shake your head, unable to believe you're siding with Han on this. "How else can we get back to the others? Walking on water?"

"Okay, okay!" Felix huffs, frustrated, but he knows you're right.

"Wait, Y/n." Han pulls you up by your arm and you make a noise in protest. Bringing you aside, he lowers his voice. "Swimming- you can't."

You blush, having forgotten the obvious. "It's a short distance, I'll be fine. Besides, I can hang off of you if I need to."

"Or," Felix steps in; the small space makes it impossible to not overhear. "We can get the boat and drive it over here before making a run for it. You'll have to be ready to hop in though."

Biting your lip, you think it over. By doing this, you won't slow them down or accidentally give away your position due to your lack of swimming skills. It's a tough call, not wanting to be separated no matter how small of a distance, but you know what to do.

"Fine," You sigh. "I'll be here."

Felix nods and makes his way out of the window, a small splash following his departure. Han is quick to follow, but pauses as he swings a leg over the edge, looking back at you. He nods his head, and you walk over to him, leaning against the wall.

"You're sure you'll be okay here?" Han asks, looking away briefly.

"Yeah, I will be," You swallow, unsure why you feel so warm all of a sudden; maybe it's nerves from the thought of being alone. "Be careful out there. Both of you."

You raise your voice a bit for Felix to hear, and Han chuckles lightly with another nod. Swinging his other leg over, Han looks back at you like he wants to say something else, his expression hard to read. Clearly thinking better of it, he looks back out across the water and takes a final breath before joining Felix below. For the brief moment he's under the water, you can feel yourself holding your breath until he surfaces. Staying crouched, you watch as they make their way over as quietly as possible.

As soon as Felix's fingers touch the side of the boat, you spot the two people exiting the building. The orange-haired one is holding some kind of parcel, laughing at something his friend must has said inside. Panic seizes you when you realize Felix and Han can't see them from their side of the boat, so you do the only thing you can think of- you whistle, high-pitched and loud enough for them to hear. This catches their attention, but also the attention of the others, and you duck down immediately. Silence- that's all you hear for a long time; you can't tell if that's good or bad. It's only when you hear what sounds like the boat engine turn on and fade into the distance that you can dare to glance out the window.

No one is there, and you feel your heart drop out of your ass. Without thinking, you lunge over the edge of the broken window and drop gracelessly into the water below. Again, panic threatens you as you plunge into the cold water, but you don't allow it to take over. You surface, gasping for air, hair sticking to your face uncomfortably as you make your way over to where Felix and Han disappeared. The water is deep, making it difficult for you to keep your head above as you clumsily swim cross to the dock. You're almost there- but your limbs prove to still be tired from the last few days, and you slip underneath the surface. Your body's first instinct is to fight, arms grabbing at the water in slow motion as you claw back to the top. You were so close.

A hand wraps around your forearm, yanking you onto solid land. As your body connects with the hard ground, you scramble away and almost back into the water before another hand grabs your upper arm. With your hair in your face like this, it's hard to see who it is, so you kick out your legs and are met with a familiar 'oof'.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Han is doubled over, holding his stomach. "Don't kick me! I was trying to help you!"

"Sorry, sorry!" You stand quickly, finding Felix soaking wet behind Han. "Where'd you guys go? I looked up and you were gone!"

"We went along the edge and surfaced over there-" Felix points a little further away to a spot covered in foliage. "-then stayed hidden until those guys left. Jisung was going to go back to you, but then we saw you fall in the water."

"I didn't- I didn't fall." You huff, looking away as a slight warmth comes across your cheeks. "I just... dived clumsily."

"Whatever you want to call it." Jisu- Han says to you, a small smirk on his face. "We should get inside though, those guys could come back. They might not be happy if this is like, their territory or something."

Felix nods, already making his way inside the storefront. The door is long gone, only splintered wood hanging off the doorway as a reminder of one once being there. Inside, it's just like any other storefront you've been in before- broken glass across the counter, tables and chairs overturned, drawers opened and empty. Everything is normal to you save for a smaller table tucked into a corner, two stools shoved underneath.

As you get closer, you can see papers strewn across the table, a leather bound journal sitting on top. Opening the journal, you can see names and dates- these people know the date?- written out on each page, going to about halfway through the pages until you get to what you assume is today. There's a small note- 'disturbance in east end by dome, check out later with bigger crew'. Disturbance? They must mean you and the others, the bridge and whatever else could have happened while you were being swept away by the river.

"Guys, check this out," You call over your shoulder. When the neither Han nor Felix answer, you look to see yourself alone. Again.

"I'm getting real sick of this." You mutter to yourself, heading up the only way they could have gone- the staircase on the opposite side of the store.

Making sure to grab the journal, you make your way up quietly, just in case. The upper doorway is covered by a thinning sheet, and you can just barely make out two figures behind it. Felix's voice carries slightly, and you find yourself stopping right before the doorway, out of sight but still in hearing range. You know you shouldn't be doing this, but-

"Just ask her?" Felix laughs slightly, but he almost sounds exasperated. "Really, it can't be that hard. It's not like you're in lo-"

"Shut up!" Han scolds, and you smile at the thought of his face turning red. "It's not that simple. I don't even think that kind of thing crosses her mind since all that other shit went down."

He then speaks in a quieter voice, followed by a sigh from Felix. This feels wrong, eavesdropping on them, so you enter the room.

The room is smaller than the lower level, some ratty seats in the shape of blobs you assume must have been more plush back in this place's heyday. It seems to be some sort of hang out spot- boxes of board games lining one of the walls, some sort of device connected to the TV hanging off another. Han notices you first, back straightening as he kicks off the windowsill he was leaning on.

"Found something?" He clears his throat, trying to act casual; you give him a look.

"I think so. Look," You extend the journal in one hand. "Entries dating back weeks, maybe months. Confirms we're on someone's territory, and we might want to get out quickly."

"What makes you say that?" Felix grabs the journal tentatively. He flips through a few pages before you can formulate an answer. "Basic patrol checkpoint, like we had back home... ah." He leans over to show Han. "Naevis spotted? Then they wrote 'plan attack'. Okay, so maybe not the friendliest people..."

"Shouldn't we also be worried about whoever 'Naevis' is referring to?" Han looks up, catching your eye; why does your heartbeat feel faster? "They must be having some kind of turf war- not something we want to be apart of."

You shake your head. "No, you're right. Whoever these people are, we need to leave soon-"

Your eyes drop down as Felix turns another page and a slip of folded up paper drops to the ground by Han's feet. Picking it up, he's quick to unfold it. The paper grows tenfold, a decently sized map forming before your eyes. With no table up here, so Han lays it out on the ground between the three of you. You and Felix crouch down, taking a look.

There are dozens of red circles around the map- areas of interest? Places on the route? The latter is confirmed when you see where you must be- a small place called 'Berry's Lounge' circled across from the apartments you came through. You hold back a dry laugh when you see said apartments labeled as 'No go- infected'. You suppose you're lucky, not having run into many in there considering it was enough of an issue for these people to mark it down. Quite a bit away from your location, there's a large white building circled in blue. A sense of unease washes over you as you point it out.

"Is that the dome?" You ask, voice low.

No one answers for a moment, and it's like you can feel the other two go still by your side. Felix clears his throat. "We should get going."

"How?" Han looks up from where he was staring at the map, out of the temporary daze. "We traveled really far. There's no way we'll make it there in time."

You don't like the way he's phrased that- in time, like there's something imminent that will determine the fate of your friends. Shaking your head, you begin to fold up the map again, but a hand flies out to stop you from doing so. Felix's fingers dance across the paper, landing on another circled area in red-

"Naevis boat port," Felix says, almost breathless. "It's not far, looks like... an hour by foot? We can get there, steal a boat, and get back to the others."

Frowning, you continue folding the map once Felix takes his hand away. The plan is risky, but you know there aren't many options in this scenario. It's either you spend several days trying to get back to where the others may or may not be, or you risk your lives stealing a boat to get back before the next morning. The choice is obvious.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

notes ▪︎ how are we feeling about these new groups coming into play !!! yes they are inspired by tlou pt 2 cause i love those games 😜 n e way. what do you think will happen with them?

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie @8lives1heart @skzswife @emi-han @alisonyus

green means i can't tag you!

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Neteyam is aged up.

Chapter 2

CW: angst, reader hates her life, neteyam is like her "secret admirer" but he eventually becomes obsessed, so, it gives off some creepy vibes, possessive neteyam, forbidden love, neteyam is REALLY protective over her, neteyam isn't really fond of humans (hates them) and only makes an exception for reader, TRIGGER WARNING for a few depression symptoms (such as reader holding back tears and looking miserable really often), stalking, obsessive behavior & possessiveness

Synopsis: Reader is unhappy with her human life. She works for the lab as a cook. She's a Dreamwalker and she spends every free day she gets walking through Pandora's forests. In one of those days, Neteyam sees her but she doesn't notice him. He falls in love, seeing how happy she is amidst nature. Neteyam finds out she's actually a human in an Avatar, so, he finds a way to go where her real body is. He hates to admit it but, seeing her in her human body, he realizes he still loves her. After watching her, he notices how she's always happier when she's in her Avatar, so, he develops a deeper connection to her. However, he becomes obsessive. Reader has only heard about him, the famous son of Jake Sully and future Olo'eyktan, praised for his great achievements as a young Omatikaya. After getting reader's attention, Neteyam asks her to choose to live forever in her Avatar, becoming his mate and making tsaheylu with him, gaining a new home as a fresh member of his tribe. Reader is scared and torn, since, even though she's intensely attracted to him and only truly enjoys life when she's Dreamwalking, she doesn't really know him and she's afraid of dying when trying to go past Eywa's eye. But Neteyam just won't give up on her that easily.

♡ This is Reader's Avatar

☆ This is the official playlist for this story, the songs I listen to while working on it.

•

Finally, this fanfic is out!! lots of people seemed to love the tiny sneak peek I posted so... I hope you guys will love the fanfic itself too hehe I'm so relieved I could finally post it ooof My environment is the worst EVER rn & i haven't had any motivation or focus to write lately BUT i seem to be getting out of that damned writer's block I was in (ITS THE WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD UGH HATE IT TO DEATH)

Not proofread. My life is a hurricane, so, we don't work with proofread stories here. Hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me, my angels :')

na'vi words:

yawne - beloved

tsaheylu - the neurological bond the na'vi make with their mate, through their tendrils, at the end of their long braid.

Chapter 1

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I love your touch, cold as ice

And I love every single tear you cry

I just love the way you're losing your life

Oh, my baby, how beautiful you are

Oh, my darling, completely torn apart

Gone With The Sin (HIM)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Neteyam would look at you every moment he could. He didn't have that much free time since he was the Olo'eyktan's son and had so many responsibilities weighting on his shoulders. But he would always make any sacrifice he needed to make to find time to see you. Even if it meant using the few hours he had to himself to contemplate you. His sad, gloomy-eyed, beautiful girl. You were not actually his yet, but, he was determined to make that change.

Neteyam saw you holding back tears way too damn often, so, he was always deeply worried about you, and, that was one of the reasons why he was always creeping around, high up in branches of trees located in Hell's Gate, watching over you, almost every day, ready to help you, defend you from any danger, to say "screw it" to how out of the blue it would be if he - a stranger, a male na'vi stranger - just came up to you and said "hey, I've been watching you for a while, and… I'm so, so in love with you. Please, leave this damn idiotic human life you live and let Eywa help you be transferred to your Avatar body for good, just like she helped my father. You're so insanely pretty like this - and I have never felt attracted to any female of your demon kind before, so, believe me when I talk about your beauty - but you look even prettier when you're in your Avatar form. Let me make you my mate, let me make you the future Olo'eyktan's mate. I can give you a far better life than the one you have now"

He knew he was just a weird alien boy (as the humans would probably say), stalking you, always up in the highest tree branches he could find and reach, watching a girl while she cooks - as it was your job - like a hunter watching their prey. But he meant no harm. On the contrary, he meant to take care of you, to save you from it all. Because he wasn't blind. Neteyam saw how unhappy you looked while peeling potatoes (he knew what they were because his dad who was once human told him and his siblings about how delicious that vegetable from Earth tasted, especially when it was made as French fries) to cook on the high-tech stove the humans used to prepare their meals in and prepare mashed potatoes to those damn lab guys who invaded his Planet and did nothing but harm.

Neteyam thought it to be unnecessary. His future mate could easily prepare the same potatoes in a bonfire he would light up for you in the Omatikaya forest. He knew they would taste even better roasted in the natural fire than just plainly cooked in that energy fueled cooking device the humans used. He could give you a life so incredibly better than the one you had right now, it pained him to see his yawne working so hard to feed every damn scientist in that cold, air-conditioned lab while not being as appreciated and thanked by them as you deserved to be. You could be preparing food to feed his children instead, the sons and daughters he would give you, if only you accepted becoming his forever mate.

He hated the humans. They didn't know how to lead a proper life. But you were different.

Neteyam knew how breathtaking you looked in a na'vi like body because the first time he saw you, you were in your Avatar body - as you were a Dreamwalker - and that's when he fell in love with you. But he learned to love your human body too. He could never hate you, even in your human form. You were the only human he did not despise.

The day Neteyam first saw you, he was out in the forest to hunt and gather food, collecting bladder polyps, lionberry seeds and trying to kill a hexapede, so, he could bring all of it home and him and his family could eat a nutritious dinner.

That's when he heard a squeaky, funny laugh. It was a female voice, he recognized. Neteyam followed that sound just like he was a sailor and the girl whose laugh he heard was a mermaid, bewitching his senses and drawing him closer.

When he saw you, it was like his heart was going to explode in a thousand pieces, so fast it was beating inside his rigid ribcage, so strongly the blood was being pumped through his arteries. He knew he had to make you his mate, to have you forever.

Neteyam had always been a practical and rational young man, he had to be. He was the eldest son and had to look after his 3 younger siblings and not show a single sign of weakness when his father would scold him in a harsh tone, whenever any of his siblings - specially his younger brother, Lo'ak -, got into trouble and somehow, Neteyam ended up having to take responsibility over their actions. "But that girl… that beautiful, ethereal girl… she makes me believe in things I've never even considered before. I know it sounds stupid to say that about a girl I just met, only some minutes ago but I don't care", he thought. Only he and Eywa herself knew the raw, powerful feeling he was experiencing at that moment. He just wanted to let go for a while. To not force himself to be all brains, zero heart for once, just once. And you were gifting him the opportunity to do just that. Your beauty was so enchanting, it could leave any creature in awe.

His father had once told him about Christianity, one of the most popular religions back on the glory days of the Planet Earth, and, of course he didn't follow those beliefs, his spirituality was completely based on Eywa, the Great Mother, the spirit and moving energy of Pandora, but, if the beings called "angels" his father talked about were real, Neteyam was utterly sure that they could only look like you.

You were perfect. Every curve of your body, every bioluminescent freckle, every pattern of your stripes, your long dark braided hair falling like water on your flawless back, as you kept smiling and touching every single flower you could see, playing in a foolish way, just like a child. He felt a primal urge coming from his guts to make tsaheylu with you right there, right at that moment.

So many thoughts roamed through Neteyam's mind: "I need her… right here, right now. She's… ugh… I've never felt anything like this before… What's going on with your stupid mind, Neteyam?! You can't just choose any girl to be your mate, you'll be the next Olo'eyktan, remember?! The best choice would be a girl who has a calling to be Tsahìk. Maybe your parents will try to arrange a marriage, to find the perfect match for you. Damn! Who am I trying to fool? She is the only perfect match for me…"

Neteyam started to watch you go about the forest every chance he got.

When he found out you were actually a Dreamwalker, a human in a body created in a laboratory, a hybrid of demon and na'vi, a freak... It was like his world was falling apart, piece by tiny piece crashing on the floor. How did he not notice your fifth finger before?! Was he that much under your spell, that blinded by how beautiful and charming you were?, he asked himself.

So, he told himself he was going to find a way to at least see what your true form looked like. He hissed at the thoughts and feelings you had caused him the whole way to Hell's Gate, where the laboratory was and where he knew all the humans that stayed in Pandora and had an Avatar stayed.

When Neteyam saw you in your human body, he got hit by something as strong as lightning. The moment he sniffed your sweet scent (the smell you had in your Avatar had notes of your original human scent, as your DNA was used to build that body), the moment he recognized that melodious voice… The expression in those eyes, that smile, that laughter… it was you. His yawne.

He didn't understand how that was possible, what he was feeling. Nevertheless, he realized he still loved you. His heart still beat fast for you. It didn't matter which physical form you took. Na'vi or human. You were you. And he loved you. Madly.

His people had a great contempt towards the ones who Dreamwalked. They were "demons in false bodies", like his grandma and his mother always said. And Neteyam himself felt the same. Worse, he had felt disgusted by the love and desire you made him feel, back when he watched you wandering around the Omatikaya lands, when you would jump like a little kid, so happy playing with the bioluminescent, neon plants of the forest.

But, still, that feeling lingered inside him. The attachment, the deep affection, the devotion… He could not comprehend it.

All Neteyam could grasp was that he hated all humans, but you were the only exception.

Even though you were originally human, you had a na'vi heart. He just knew that. As crazy and impossible as it sounded, he figured out it was true. And that blew his mind. That sorrowful girl he was seeing cooking in a small technological kitchen was not the same one he had seen at the forest. But it was, at the same time. It apparently made no sense, but it actually did. You were not where you belonged. You did not belong imprisoned among those four walls that the other humans kept you in. That you were keeping yourself in. You belonged free amidst the Pandoran trees. You did not belong in those big human clothes. You belonged in a comfortable loincloth and a big leaf necklace covering your beautiful breasts, letting the wind hit your skin.

You seemed out of place in that environment you were currently in. And that made Neteyam feel something so overpowering. He knew it was useless to try and fight it. He was not even sure if he even wanted to fight it anymore. That feeling was good. It felt just like what he felt when he thought you were a na'vi girl. He even felt attracted to you, even though he still thought you looked much prettier in your Avatar body.

He was fully aware you were one of the demons. But you were not like the rest of them. You were special. He could tell that. He could tell you'd be a hundred per cent happier if he could convince you to become na'vi. And that's exactly what he was planning to do. He still did not know how, but he would find a way.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@crazy4books1

@samistars

@lik0

@miri-belle

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@xxunnie

@your-girl-mj

@sereisstuff

@darktyrantwinner

@henhouse-horrors

@explosiongamora

@yeosxxx

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Self Indulgence ☀︎︎

☀︎︎ 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

______________________________

“𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚.

Phoenix was one of the many places you had marked on your list of places to visit this summer before you went back into hibernation for school. You had made a stern promise to yourself that you would get out of the house more and become less of a homebody.

Solo trips and dates became a common factor when venturing out. Being by yourself wasn't the downfall of your vow, you didn't mind being solo, peace rained throughout your mindset as you found solace within your life.

Stepping up to the venue, the windows deeply tinted, allowing the smallest bit of view to see from the outside. On the side, cars were aligned in unison, Mercedez, Maybach's, and Range Rover's easily toppling over thousands of dollars.

Reaching out to open the small double doors, you were met with a security guard who looked everything but amused, towering over your frame aimlessly. His eyes red and low quickly scanning over your attire. He began to nod slowly to himself, pondering with his own thoughts.

Speaking up with a ragged tone "Oh you must be one of their girlfriends right?" his head motioned behind him, revealing a dim purple hue, the area filled with dangerously tall women scattered around each section.

Just go with it

"Uh- yes, sorry I hope I'm not too late" you pressed, falsely checking your gold-plated watch that hasn't ticked in years.

The guard shook his head slightly, "Nah we're just getting started" his free hand released from his biceps motioning you to walk through the entrance. Grounding your steady footsteps, walking into the shallow doorway, the smell of alcohol and prominent fragrance swiveled through the air making your head dizzy.

Music blared through the speakers with bass that shook the ground, how could anyone hear themselves think? To calm your senses, a drink was added to your agenda, a good fruit mixture would never lead you in the wrong direction.

Locating the crowded bar planted in the far right corner was easy, but physically getting there was not. People swarmed every inch of the floor making it nearly impossible to move without touching someone. Cautiously maneuvering through the crowds, you soon acquire that everyone here was in fact a woman, not a male figure in sight, excluding the stoned guard.

Women of all dynamics, tall, muscular, and every lick of beautiful, coming from all different shades. Instantly you knew you were way out of your element, and you'd be indulging every second of it.

Approaching the bar, attempting to blend into the vibe that was flowing through the atmosphere. Cool, calm, and collected. Looking over the different variations of drinks displayed behind the counter.

"You know the pink Whitney and Shirley temple mix goes crazy together, you should try it" a low voice rang in your ear sending a small shiver throughout your body. Eyes darting to the view next to you met with a pair of ocean blue ones.

A small smile masked the impending nervousness growing. "I'm not really a Shirley girl but I love a good pink Whitney"

Her face twisted in shock "Really?!, you look like the type though" Paige asserted, slowly licking her lips and tasting the faint alcohol that lingered. Her demeanor was soft, yet so dominant at all once. It was hard to tell whether she was fully sober or if she was just naturally charming and spoke to whoever was in her line of sight.

"Now what does that mean?" you questioned tilting your head slightly, remarking on her ability to maintain eye contact so easily.

She shrugged "Most pretty girls love Shirley temples" smiling to herself.

"I take it that you're one of them hm?" confiding in the way her features correlated so nicely. Lips the perfect shade of pink, eyelashes curled to perfection, hair slicked back without a single strand out of place. Her tall frame made every aspect match perfectly, including her two-piece set that had dashes of purple stitched within each pattern.

"Something like that" she bantered, tapping her fingers against the cold counter "Here let me buy you one" plucking the gold Amex card stashed in the back of her purple phone case. Good to know you could skip the whole "What's your favorite color" mantra.

"Oh no no it's alright, you don't have to spend your money on me I got it" gently sliding her card back into the slot. Denying Paige was not on your game card for tonight, but you refused to let anyone buy you anything, ever.

"Nah it's not a problem" Paige insisted "Are you here with someone?"

Replaying the guards' assumption in your head, you quickly denied "No I'm just here by myself.." 2nd guessing your answer, a silent prayer sped through your mind, hoping that you didn't talk yourself into a frenzy.

"Mm." she hummed softly against her lips, almost as if she knew you were spiraling on the inside.

"Why do you ask?" your tone more so concerned rather than confused.

Her eyes lightened at your expression "I'm just asking mama, no pressure" a smirk plastered across her face as she watched your eyes widen at the name. She knew what she was doing, this was nothing new to her.

But The Way She Made You Feel Was All New To You

[book--wyrm]

I do love that Eve is like. The ultimate refutation of the way Oz chases his Rex Calabrese fantasy.

Because in a way, Eve really is the perfect recipient of this dynamic. She knows Oz and all his flaws so well—she knows he's a selfish, lying, backstabbing killer, she knows that he's fundamentally kind of an asshole, she knows that he is at minimum about 60% bullshit by volume at any given moment.

But she accepts him and his help, and offers her aid and advice in return, as little as he listens to it. She doesn't judge him, even defending him to Sofia after their breakup (we all got our shit, don't we?). She loves him, in her own way, enough to push back when Sofia derides the idea. She is loyal to him.

I cannot emphasize that last part enough. She is loyal to him. During her meeting with Sofia, Eve was fully, totally, a hundred percent prepared to take his location to her grave. She didn't choose not to go with him to save her own life, she chose not to go because she needed to stay to protect her girls.

And realistically that's really the best case scenario for the Rex fantasy, right? To be seen and known for all your scummy deeds and dark, vicious nature, and yet be loved and respected as a protector all the same? Maybe Eve wouldn't throw a parade for him if he died, but she'd pour one out for him with the girls and remember him fondly. We ate when he ate. He was a nasty sonuvabitch but he was ours.

And then.

Sofia comes. And all she has to do is tell the truth.

And the whole thing comes crumbling down.

Because Oz was never, and could never be the kind of man who deserves that respect and loyalty. Because it's only "we got each other's backs and don't screw each other over" as long as its convenient for him. Because Oz will do anything to have that Rex reputation, including undermining its very foundations.

Oz loved Eve, in his own way. Besides his mom and vic, Eve is the person he cares about the most. But he doesn't respect her. He doesn't value her priorities, only the affection she gives to him. So he screws over her girls, and hides it for a decade, and doesn't think a second about it because ultimately, he doesn't want to protect the people, he wants to be loved as a protector.

And once Eve, the person he has been the most Rex-like with for god knows how long, learns how deep the rot runs? She turns her back on him. Because as much as Oz wants to be loved like Rex, he can't help being anyone but The Penguin.

I also have to say, I absolutely adore that the person who does genuinely come closest to the fantasy Rex that realistically could never exist isn't Sofia—it's Eve herself.

For Oz, I eat you eat means sharing scraps off his plate with the people who fill it. For Eve, it means sharing in their meals. And when needed, sharing in the danger.

I think a worse, less thoughtful show would only really contrast Oz with his major rival, giving her the virtues he lacks and vice versa. And I have seen some reviewers and reactors talk as if like, Sofia sparing Eve earned her Eve's loyalty or something. Like Eve is switching from one mafia boss to another.

Nothing about that scene reads that way to me. Eve doesn't share Oz's location out of loyalty, or gratefulness. She doesn't owe anything to Sofia for not shooting her.

She tells Sofia because she gets it, gets how deeply Oz has fucked Sofia over. She tells her out of kindness, out of empathy, out of understanding.

And that is why she earns the Rex reputation, and Oz only borrows it.