#if it's within a few feet of the window it can confuse them and make them fly into it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago

Text

Rule Breaker - Pt 5

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, disgusting amount of fluff Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4153 auth.note: logan girlies rise up, new banner, also broke this into two parts for reasons, this is a poly fic now and I need to update the summary too don't I spotify: i made a playlist

Kevin sighed heavily, his breath fogging the window. Wiping it away with his hand, he kept staring outside. As though by sheer willpower he could change the weather. "It's rained all day."

Max chuckled, swirling his coffee in his cup. "I know, maate. But it's getting better now, yeah?"

The boy shrugged, turning and jumping down from the sofa. Max knew he had to be bored. There were only so many races and demolition derbies he could put together with the few toy cars he'd brought. The tablet he sometimes played on was charging, and they'd already watched two movies since that morning.

Sighing, Max finished his coffee in one gulp and set his cup down. "Right, come on."

Kevn looked confused, even when Max shrugged on his coat and reached for Kevin's boots. "Where we going?"

"Anywhere but here." Max grinned as the boy rushed to him, nearly falling over as he tried to shove one of his feet into a boot. "We'll go out in the rain, yeah?" he suggested, helping him get his boots on then his raincoat. "It's just a little water."

"Can we splash?" Kevin asked hopefully as he skipped to the stairs.

"Wouldn't be a walk in the rain without a splash," Max promised, picking him up and carrying him until they were outside. Kevin immediately pushed the hood of his coat back, closing his eyes and giggling as the rain landed on his face.

He made sure to get plenty of pictures for y/n of Kevin riding his scooter along the asphalt, and of him trying to jump hard enough to make the puddle water splash above his head. And then he had to do it himself, the boy's childish glee contagious to the point his side ached from laughing. The rain let up and Max knew he had to be ready to go back inside but no, it was time to hunt for wildlife. His shoes squished with water at each step as he held onto Kevin's hand, letting the boy lead him to where they'd spotted groundhogs earlier in the day.

"What if they drowned?" Kevin asked worriedly a few moments later, wringing his small hands and looking down into the flooded hole at the base of the barrier.

"I'm sure they didn't, mate. They're smart, yeah?" Max squatted down, looking at the hole. "They know how to get away from the rain."

"They're on the other side of the wall," a voice said behind them.

Max wanted to be annoyed at the interruption. But Kevin's face lit up at the sound of Logan's voice, and within seconds he was trying to scale the wall.

"I'm too small." Kevin's voice was mournful and accompanied by a world-weary sigh.

"C'mon, I'll hold you up." Logan extended his hands, giving Max a quick nod as he lifted Kevin.

Straightening, Max moved over to peer over the wall, seeing one of the groundhogs creeping away. "See, little mate? They're fine."

Kevin looked and sounded relieved, waving at the animal though it didn't seem to care. "I like animals, Mister Logan."

"Country kid. There's a bunch of geese over on the lake, you wanna go see?" Logan asked.

And he had to tag along. He couldn't just push Kevin into Logan's care, even if the guy was seeing the boy's mom. Kevin chattered nonstop about animals, telling a garbled tale about a goose that had chased him in the park. Squeezing past the turnstile, he waved at the security to indicate the child was with him. Not that he needed to worry, since Kevin already knew the person by name.

"Wow," Kevin breathed in awe as they stepped onto the temporary platform and he saw the dozens of geese gliding over the water.

He looked on as Logan affectionately pushed Kevin's damp hair back from his face, keeping a firm grip on his hand when he walked to the very edge to look down into the water. The breeze sent a chill through him and he worried that Kevin might be cold, too, but didn't want to ruin his fun. Just a few more minutes. It was almost the time y/n had said she'd be done.

"You're good with him," he said to Logan once they were on their way back. He kept his eyes on Kevin, who had gotten back on his scooter and was just ahead, steering so he splashed anyone he passed. But he felt Logan look at him in surprise.

"You think so?" Logan asked.

Max nodded. "He can be a handful, yeah?"

"Yeah, but… He's a good kid." The smile was evident in his voice. "You… You ever think about having kids?"

Only if they looked like… He sighed, nodding. "Sometimes. You?"

"Not really." Logan cleared his throat. "Not until recently."

And now it was time to change the subject. Because—

"You're close with y/n." It wasn't a question.

His stomach twisted. "She's my coworker. An important member of the team."

"Well, yeah, but… You don't watch Checo's kids when they're at the track."

Fucking Americans and their need to point out the obvious. "Okay, so I'm close. I guess I'd consider her a friend." That hurt to say and he didn't want to investigate why. "Why?"

"Maybe you don't know, if you're only – Do you know why she's shy about a relationship?"

Fuck.

"I mean, we've gone out a few times, but." Logan sighed. "I just thought you might know. You're closer to her than anyone else."

"I don't know," Max said, trying his best to not sound annoyed. Watching Kevin, he slowed when the boy stopped to show his scooter off to Oscar. He spotted a Red Bull shirt up ahead and knew it was y/n, was certain when Kevin squealed and took off towards her, leaving Oscar holding his scooter. Stopping, he turned to Logan. "I don't know why, but I think it's because she's a single mom. His dad's not around at all, that's all I know."

Logan nodded. "Thanks, mate."

Max wrinkled his nose. "You've been around Alex and Oscar too much. It sounds weird when you say mate."

"I can't help it," he laughed. "Not enough Americans around here."

"There's a couple," Max said, nodding towards Kevin and y/n, who were slowly heading back towards them. And though it hurt, the words formed in his mouth. And though he didn't want to say them, they came out. "She likes you. Little mate likes you. I think… If you don't push her, it'll work out like it's supposed to."

"Really?" Logan looked over at her, and Max felt the usual bitterness in his chest when he smiled. "Thanks, Max."

It wasn't fair. Max knew that was something that only would be acceptable if Kevin were to say it, because only a three year old could make that statement and not be looked at with disdain. So he kept it to himself, swallowing down the jealousy as Logan moved first, taking up the boy's scooter and meeting y/n and Kevin. He felt unnecessary and wondered why he moved to join them when he could be heading to the motorhome to change his shoes and get ready to go back to the hotel for the night.

She reached out, smiling as she squeezed his arm. "Thanks so much for keeping an eye on him. I can tell he had an amazing time."

Suddenly he didn't feel useless. "We both did, but he was going stir crazy."

"I'm glad you took him out." She looked him up and down while Kevin jumped in a nearby puddle, encouraging Logan to join in. "Did he splash you?"

He looked down and saw the water and bits of mud splashed up his legs. "Ah, a little bit. Then I had to do it myself."

"You did?" she giggled, squeezing his arm again and letting go. "Oh I wish I could have seen that."

"I'll send you the video," he sighed as her hand slid down his arm.

"Mama, gotta pee."

"C'mon, kleine maat." Max reached for him, waving off her insistence that she could do it. "I've got to change anyway. I'll take care of it while you get your stuff packed."

"Thank you, Max," she said softly. "I just need to check in with the other admins about tomorrow then I'll be up."

He nodded, settling Kevin on his hip. The boy wrapped his arms around his neck, head resting on his shoulder as he was carried off. "Toilet then we'll get dry yeah? And—"

"Grote maat?"

"Yeah?"

Kevin sighed and Max wondered if he was just tired. It had been a long day and as far as he knew the boy hadn't had more than a thirty minute nap just after lunch. Or maybe he wasn't sure how to say whatever it was he wanted to say. "Nothin'," he finally mumbled.

"It's something," Max said gently, catching the closing door with one foot and pushing it open so he could enter the motorhome.

"I don't have a daddy," Kevin blurted once they were upstairs and Max was setting him down.

Max blinked, freezing for a few seconds. "Hasn't your mum talked to you about that?"

"No… Yeah. She said…" His face screwed up in thought.

And Max remembered he had to use the toilet. Guiding him into the bathroom, he turned his back to give him privacy, using the time to take off his coat and sodden shoes.

"Laura has a daddy," Kevin announced once he'd flushed.

It took him a couple seconds to remember who Laura was. "Yes… Her dad has the same name as you."

"But he's not my daddy."

"No, he's not," Max sighed. Picking up the discarded raincoat, he threw it over his shoulder and held the boy up at the sink so he could wash his hands. "What did your mum say?"

Kevin drew in a deep breath. "Not everybody gets a mama or a daddy. Some people get both." He shook the water from his hands and stretched to get a paper towel, his expression far too serious for one so young. "I love mama."

Max swallowed the unbidden lump of emotion in his throat. "I know you do, kleine maat. She loves you too."

"Mister Logan likes her."

Max inhaled slowly and let it out even slower. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, setting Kevin down and ushering him from the bathroom. "But that—"

"Do you think he'd be my daddy?"

"I don't—"

"You like mama."

Oh no. No. He had to put a stop to this. "I—"

There was a gentle knock on the door and Max would have gladly kissed whoever was on the other side. "We'll talk later, yeah?" he promised in a rush, moving to wrench open the door and more relieved to see y/n than he should have been.

"Hey," she said, slipping past him. "Alright, doodle bug, let's get ready to go, okay?"

"I'm just gonna… Change," Max said, still numb from Kevin's assertion. Grabbing a clean set of clothes from his suitcase, he carried them into the bathroom and closed the door with a sigh.

Maybe spending so much time with the kid was a bad idea. Obviously he thought that time together equaled a father figure, and since that would never happen, he should pull back. Let her be happy with Logan. Or not. Whichever path she chose wouldn't include him, so there was no need for him to continue to stick around.

He could hear them talking softly, wondered what Kevin was telling her about his afternoon. Wondered what her reaction would be to her son suddenly wanting a father. He had probably brought it up before, so she would just deflect or give him her usual answer, and—

"Max? Have you got his raincoat?"

He blinked, saw the bright blue coat he'd tossed over the sink. "Yeah, sorry. A couple of his cars are in here, too. Just a minute."

"No rush, I'm making him change into dry clothes." Her voice faded as she walked away from the door.

When he came out a few moments later, Kevin was pouting as she worked a comb through his hair. Wordlessly he draped the raincoat over the back of the chair and dropped the cars into Kevin's bag then made sure to give the boy a quick smile while smoothing his own hair.

"Want Mister Max to fix it," Kevin said suddenly and Max grunted in surprise when the boy suddenly bolted towards him.

Y/n shrugged, tossing the comb to him. Sitting back on her heels, she rolled her shoulders then bent to make sure none of Kevin's toys were hiding under the couch.

Kneeling down, Max shared a smile with Kevin and began to gently work the comb through his unruly curls. "Your mum has more experience with this than me," he whispered.

"But she's tired. Work," Kevin whispered back.

He almost laughed, wondering what Kevin considered his own work that day. "Do you know what she does?"

Kevin shrugged. "It's on her phone. Pictures and movies for the online people."

"Bit more than that, but yeah. And she's very good at it," Max promised, focusing on guiding the curls back from the boy's face.

"Can you do it? Or do you just drive?"

So that was what he did. Just drove. "No, I can't do what she does." He felt her watching them and looked over at her. "She's the only one who can do it."

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

"Taxes!" Kevin answered with a giggle.

Max grinned, shaking his head as he finished combing his hair. Aware of her disbelieving look, he shrugged. "You heard him, we're talking about taxes."

"What about taxes?" She narrowed her eyes.

"They suck," Kevin said with all the certainty only a child could produce.

Max tipped his head. "Exactly."

She snorted, taking the comb and slipping it into her bag. "You're lying but whatever. Let's get your—" She stopped, because Max was already helping Kevin with his raincoat.

"Keep your hood up outside, yeah? You don't want cold ears." Max sat down fully, stretching to get a dry pair of shoes from his suitcase. "Do you need a ride back to the hotel?"

"I was just gonna Uber," she said, zipping up the bag of Kevin's things. "Gotta stop and get some dinner, so—"

"Y/n."

"Hm?" She looked at him as he stood. And sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Okay. He cleared his throat and grabbed his jacket. "Unless you and Logan…"

"No." She looked on while he moved to help Kevin with his rain boots. "He's… Got stuff on his mind."

"The car?" Max guessed, seeing her nod. "I don't blame him. It's fucking shit."

"Max!"

"It is," he said with a shrug. "He'd have better luck with a bicycle."

"That might be true, but—"

"He's good," Max told her. "It's not him, it's the team and the cars. They brought him up too soon and when he wasn't immediately amazing they lost faith in him. You can't earn points if the team is constantly shitting on you."

"Max," she hissed.

And he felt himself blush. "Sorry," he mumbled to Kevin.

"Mama says it too," the boy told him.

"The point is—"

"Vowles is stupid, that's what the point is. Instead of supporting his driver he's telling the world he's looking for someone new. He favors Alex, gives him the better car, and leaves Logan to struggle." Max straightened and sighed. "Logan's not perfect on the track, y/n, but he would be improving if his team believed in him and helped him learn."

"I know," she whispered sadly. "He's—" She pressed her lips together. "Are we even supposed to talk about it?"

They probably weren't, but he didn't care. "Doesn't matter. He's what?"

"He's worried about next year. He loves this," she said. "It's what he's worked so hard to get to, and now it's slipping away."

And Max knew she was falling for the American. She, who'd known the man for barely a month, showed more concern for him than the so-called team he drove for. He wondered if Logan had any idea. "I'm sorry," he said softly. When she looked at him doubtfully, he sighed. "I really am, y/n. But we've got more than half the season to go. Don't give up hope, yeah?"

"I'll do my best," she murmured. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Worry," he finished with a nod. "I know. C'mon, let's go, yeah? Get him some dinner before he falls asleep."

"Not sleepy," Kevin said, ruining the announcement by yawning.

"We were talking about you," Max murmured once they were in the back seat of the car and on their way from the track.

"What?" The fading daylight was just enough for him to see her look over at him.

"Taxes."

"Oh." She chuckled, shifting Kevin in her lap as he leaned against her. "That's what I always tell him when me and Ellie are talking about something I don't want him to know."

"Good idea." He looked down at his phone, replying to the messages he'd been ignoring from his father. "Did you know I just drive?"

"Yeah, you should really start doing Uber," she teased.

He snorted. "Sixty or seventy laps, three hundred kilometers an hour. Practically a Sunday drive in the country."

"Well… Isn't it usually?"

"You're not funny," he muttered, ignoring his fathers lengthy questions about strategy and stats for the weekend and opening his messages with Christian.

"I'm hilarious. You just have no sense of humor."

"The groundhogs at the track are funnier than you – Ay!" he laughed when she shoved his shoulder.

"You're such an ass, Max."

"Y/n," he gasped in mock shock, pointedly looking at Kevin.

Kevin, who was almost asleep.

"Fine, you're such a butt, Max," she corrected.

To his delight, they playfully bickered all the way to the restaurant she'd ordered their dinner from. And from there all the way to the hotel. It was fun and playful, and kept Kevin from falling asleep, and he reveled in making her laugh so hard as they climbed out of the car at the hotel, turning to get Kevin. Max waved her off, holding the boy and pausing to greet some of the fans waiting, ignoring their questions about who Kevin was. He had a sinking feeling that the photos – and movies, as Kevin called them – would be plastered online before he reached the elevator and wondered if he should have let her carry her son inside. But she had to know it would happen, and he could only hope the fans online would be polite.

"Thanks, Max," she said when he carried Max into her hotel room. He opened his mouth to say she was welcome, but she continued, "I don't mean just this. You've done more than anyone would have expected you to for me the past couple days."

While she spoke she unpacked her and Kevin's food, and Max instinctively moved to help Kevin out of his boots and jacket, sending him to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I really don't mind."

"You sure?" she asked, looking up from her phone.

"I like—" he stopped when there was a knock on the open door.

Apparently Logan didn't have too much stuff on his mind. Exchanging a nod in greeting, Max looked away, his lightened mood dimming as y/n spoke to him, insisting he come in and eat, she'd gotten an extra burger. Despite Logan's assertion that he was fine, she had him seated at the small table in no time and Max wondered how it felt, to be fussed over so affectionately. Kevin, even though he was tired, greeted the man with exuberance, and at least he knew what that was like, and wondered if he looked that happy when the boy climbed into his lap.

"I should get going," he said, feeling like a third wheel. Like he was intruding on a private moment.

She looked ready to say he didn't have to, but nodded. "Okay. Thanks again, Max."

"Anytime," he promised.

"How do I look?"

"Amazing."

Y/n huffed. "You didn't look!"

"Sorry!" Ellie turned from the counter and her eyes widened. "Holy shit."

"Too much?" she fretted, tugging at the hem of the black dress. She would swear it had been a few inches longer in the shop.

"What's the end goal for tonight?" her friend asked.

"Dinner?" she answered slowly.

"And what else?"

She sighed. "It's just dinner, El."

Ellie leaned to make sure Kevin wasn't coming into the kitchen and lowered her voice. "Have you slept with him yet?"

"Ellie."

"I'll take that as a no." Ellie nodded. "Then it's perfect."

"What does that mean—"

"He's tall, so put on your highest heels. And since your tits are out and we're not in Carolina, grab my shawl. That blue one, it looks great with your eyes."

"My tits are not out."

"Please, one good sneeze and you'll be flashing him." Ellie smiled knowingly. "It's okay to want to have sex, you know."

Y/n huffed again, reaching to run her hands through her hair but stopping when she remembered how long she'd worked on the simple updo. So she settled for an annoyed gesture. "I know that. I just – He – I'm – El, it's been four years. And last time—"

"Not every guy is a Josh," Ellie said gently. "Give yourself some credit, babes. You were young and a little dumb, and now you're older and wiser."

"I know," she sighed.

"You worry too much. You like Logan, he likes you. He and Kevin like each other. You've been seeing him for over a month now."

Nodding, y/n opened her mouth. But her best friend kept talking.

"He's a good guy. Stop holding him at arm's length."

"But what if—"

"What if you let yourself have a little fun for the first time since you got pregnant with Kev? What if you put yourself first even if it's just for one night? What if you have the best night that makes the four hours of getting ready worth it? What if—"

"Okay, okay, okay! Point made," she said with a groan. "It was three hours."

"You really hate admitting when I'm right." Ellie crossed the small kitchen and hugged her. "You look great, sweetie. He'll drool even more than he already does when he sees you."

"Ew…"

"Fine." Ellie squeezed her tight. "No woman has ever looked more gorgeous than you look tonight, and no woman ever will. Traffic will stop, heads will turn, and everyone who sees you will wish they could be graced with one of your smiles."

"That's better." She laughed softly, hugging her friend back. "Okay, he should be here soon, I've got to get my shoes."

"And the shawl."

And the shawl. By the time she found it in Ellie's closet she was nervous, palms sweating as she fixed it around her shoulders and checked and rechecked and then triple-checked her appearance in the full length mirror. He was there, she could hear him talking to Kevin and she took several calming breaths, jumping when Ellie entered her bedroom.

"Here," her friend said, reaching to slip something into her purse.

"What—"

"Just in case. He is from Florida."

Y/n looked at what she'd dropped inside and slapped her friend's arm. "Ellie."

"Come on, before Kevin gets him to watch Cars again."

Sighing, she nodded and closed her purse after making sure she had everything. Logan was on the sofa with Kevin and her breath caught a little, both at how patiently he was listening to her son 'read' his book and at how handsome he was. She was so used to seeing him dressed casually so each time he wore something other than jeans and a hoodie it was a pleasant surprise.

"You look gorgeous," he said when they were outside. He'd said great upstairs and she still felt the surge of feminine adrenaline over how he'd stared for a full ten seconds before speaking.

"Thank you." His palm burned the small of her back as he guided her to the waiting car, and when he opened the door for her he sighed her name. She wondered if it was a good thing to start a date with a kiss and decided that it was. Because it made her feel gorgeous. Great. Beautiful.

Wanted.

Driving to the restaurant, his hand strayed to her knee and she covered it with hers, meeting his eyes when he stopped the car.

"Are we still figuring it out?" he asked softly, turning his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I think we already have," she answered, swallowing when his hand squeezed.

Wondering why it wasn't as scary as she'd thought it would be.

Taglist:

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #logan sargeant #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #logan sargent x reader #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

614 notes · View notes

take-it-on-the-run · 2 months ago

Text

Rosyln

Dean Winchester x FreshlyTurned!Reader

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. Something to get the three of you back on your feet after a year of thinking Sam was dead and no contact between you and Dean.

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Vampirism, the reader is turned, angst, hurt/comfort, soulless Sam is slacking, blood, vivid descriptions of smell and pain, vomiting, illness comfort, Samuel Campbell (yes he is a warning he sucks), brief mention of the reader killing Dean

Characters: Dean Winchester, Soulless!Sam Winchester, FreshlyTurned!Reader, Samuel Campbell

Anonymous requested: "hi <3 wasn’t sure if I could request this or not, feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, but can I request a hurt/comfort fic with dean :) like patching up an injury or smth, thank you !!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Bon Iver + St. Vincent title. Okay, I'm going to preface this by saying this went a little off the rails from what the request asked for, and I hope that this is still generally within the realm of hurt/comfort. Thank you for the request anon, and if you don't think I quite hit the mark, I'm sorry. Other than the haywire writing, this was a ton of fun to write, and made me brush up on my season six lore. Every mistake is my own, heed the tags, and enjoy!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Blood ran down your chest and stomach, coupled with a hot, searing pain that pulsated from the side of your neck.

The barn you were in was slipping in and out of vision as you tried to focus on a small crack that ran through a few of the ceiling boards.

The reality of your life coming to an end in a barn on the outskirts of a small Midwest town crashed down on you.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt.

Something to get the three of you back on your feet after a year of thinking Sam was dead and no contact between you and Dean.

Rush the vamp nest, take them out, and torch the place for good measure.

It was a fairly simple plan, given the things you three had gone through over the past years. Ghosts, demons, and the damn devil himself. A plan that would’ve gone through perfectly if Sam followed through on his end.

You were supposed to go through one of the top windows, Dean through the front, and Sam the back.

You found two vamps up in the loft, swiftly cutting through the head of one before the other kicked you straight through the loft’s railing, landing on your back a floor below.

Before you could get to your feet, he was on top of you, yanking the machete in your hands and throwing it across the room. He brought his grotesque mouth to your neck, all sharp needles made of bone. The metallic smell of blood caked to the back of his teeth wafted over your senses.

You could feel the muscles in your neck drawing taught as his teeth attempted to rip out the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder. You tried pushing him off, but the harder you pushed, the more his jaw would close. The only thing stopping him from ripping your throat clean open was Dean running behind him and holding the vampire’s mouth open like a wild animal.

Through your drowning ears, you could hear Dean yelling for Sam to come kill the monster on top of you, but no such relief came.

You didn’t know where Sam was, but you knew Dean had a choice to make.

Either let the vampire’s jaw go, letting him yank your throat apart as he scrambled for a weapon to kill it, or continue yelling for his brother who was yet to be found.

Your eyes met his briefly through the struggle of his vice grip on your attacker. You could see confusion, followed by regret, flash in his eyes; like you were telling him it was one way or the other.

As strong as Dean was, you knew that he wasn’t strong enough to wait for Sam and still have the energy to hold the vampire on you.

He knew it, too.

You closed your eyes when you saw his hands starting to move away from the vampire’s jaw before they slipped off and he was out of your sight.

You didn’t blame him. It was a tough call to make, and if the roles were reversed, you were sure you’d make the same choice.

That’s the life, after all.

You were barely conscious enough to recognize Dean dragging you away to prop you up against a wall with a grunt. You heard the rotting door of the barn get kicked open, and you blinked your eyes open enough to see Sam finally make an appearance with the med kit that you stashed in the Impala.

“Where the hell were you,” Dean spit at his brother with venom. You heard Sam’s voice, but the words were garbled and you couldn’t put together what he was saying.

Your voice rattled a moan without your control, like a ghastly breath escaping your lungs in an attempt to cling to life. Their voices came to a hush as Dean returned to kneeling at your side.

“Hey, hey sweetheart,” his hand cupped the side of your face while the other remained pressed harshly on the gaping wound in your neck, “I need you to focus on me. Just keep your eyes on me, everything’s gonna be alright.”

You knew you were at the end of your blood tank; in reality, it was a miracle you were still awake at all.

Fuck.

You moved your jaw, Dean’s hand riding on the side of your neck in an attempt to keep the wound covered.

In no human realm should you be awake or alive in this moment.

But, as Sam shoved thick pads of gauze into Dean’s hands, you felt the world stop as a new smell cut through the one of your blood.

A deep, unsatiated hunger, as if you hadn’t eaten since the moment you were born, dawned on your tongue. It didn’t pile in your stomach like normal hunger; it coursed through your body, wracking you with the urge to find the source of the smell.

Dean.

The smell was coming from Dean.

You forced yourself away from him, kicking against the rickety floor of the barn as he looked at you in shock.

“What are you doing? You’re going to bleed out, please, I know it hurts, but…” his words died in his mouth as you slowly stood to your feet, feeling around the site of the wound. Your hand moved on your skin, slipping in your blood but not dipping against the gaping holes you knew should’ve been there.

“I need you two to back up away from me, please.” You stated as calmly as you could. Something was clicking in your jaw, and you guessed it was the new teeth forcing their way through your gums.

The two of the brothers stepped away, Sam a little faster than Dean, as you dug your nails into a wooden beam to stop your feet from moving.

You watched them from a distance, whispering to each other with occasional glances your way.

Dean took a step towards you, his hands in front of him cautiously as you firmly planted your feet to the ground.

“Sam says he and Samuel may know how to deal with this, he thinks they might have a cure. I’m going to grab the guy that turned you,” he turned to the body slowly, keeping eye contact with you, “and we’ll need you to come with us. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You craned your neck to look around before your eyes were burned with the light creaking through the walls. It burned like the sun had come down to Earth and set it on fire, swirling up to your brain and distorting your thoughts.

“Dean,” you heaved out, planting your hands firmly over your eyes, “I don’t think-” your brain felt too light to form more words. Everything was too bright, too fast, too much.

Your body buckled at your hips as you heard one of the pair approach you. Hands lightly pressed at the backs of your legs, and you were swept off your feet.

When you woke up, you were sat upright in a chair, alone in one of the many rooms of the Campbell’s compound. You recognized it as one of the rooms dedicated to the many monsters the Campbell family took in; the barred door locked from the outside.

You gasped, holding back a gag as you tasted your rancid breath.

“Y/N?” You heard someone call out your name from down the hall, and you scrambled to the bars, wrapping your hands around them.

“Dean?” You called out with a weak voice. The owner of the voice turned down the hallway, revealing Dean’s broad figure walking swiftly to you.

He knelt in front of the bars, gaze sweeping over you, taking in your ragged appearance.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and steady. “How are you feeling?”

You laughed bitterly. “Like something chewed me up and spit me out.” The words felt strange coming out of your mouth, as if each syllable scraped against your throat, raw and foreign. You tightened your grip on the bars, the metal cold against your clammy skin.

Dean nodded slowly, glancing down the hallway where Sam and Samuel’s muffled voices were discussing… something. Something about a cure. A way out of this. But you could tell by Dean’s face that the chances weren’t great.

“Listen, they’re working on it,” he said. “Sam and Samuel think they might be able to stop this, to reverse it somehow. You just have to hang in there.”

You met his gaze, searching his eyes for any sign of certainty, anything that might give you hope. “And if they can’t?” Your voice was softer than you’d meant, but you had to ask. The hunger clawing at your insides was getting stronger, more insistent, and it terrified you more than anything else.

He exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against the bars. “Then we deal with it.”

You felt a shudder run through you, half from fear and half from the hunger that twisted your insides at the scent of his blood. “Dean… you don’t get it.” You tried to explain the gnawing feeling, how you could practically taste his blood just by being this close. “I’m not safe, not like this.”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll find a way to make you safe. Whatever it takes.”

Just then, Sam and Samuel came down the hall, carrying an ancient-looking book and a glass filled with a thick red liquid. You guessed it had blood in it, by the smell, but various other scents in the drink made you want to double over. Dean turned, his face hardening as he looked at them.

Sam cleared his throat, glancing at you behind the bars. “We… we think this might work. The cure’s based on a blood transfusion from the vampire that turned you, mixed with some ingredients Samuel and the family found.” He met your eyes, his expression somber, with a blankness in his eyes. “It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But if you can make it through… there’s a good chance we can turn you back.”

With a nod, you stepped away from the door, allowing Samuel to unlock it with a key he pulled from his pocket. Dean stared at you intensely as Sam crossed the threshold into the cell. He handed you the cup and quickly stepped back out of the room.

Before either Sam had a chance to close the door again, Dean stepped in.

“What are you doing?” Samuel asked, creaking open the door so Dean would have the chance to leave.

“If this has the chance to kill her, I think we owe her enough to not let her die alone in a cell like some damn dog,” Dean said harshly.

Sam looked as if he was going to say something, but Samuel silently closed the door and locked it.

“Dean,” you groaned out, the ache of your new sharp teeth erupting past your gums making it hard to speak, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know you, and I know that out of all of us, you’d be the one with the most control to not eat me alive.” He said wryly, sitting against the wall opposite of you as you leaned against it.

You smiled despite the pain radiating throughout your body. The drink in your hand smelled like blood mixed with something bitter that sat in the back of your throat. You looked a Dean for a moment, before raising the cup a little in a ‘cheers’ motion and starting to slam the liquid down.

It burned like the first time you drank booze, but there was no warm and fuzzy feeling when you finished. You coughed roughly, dropping the cup and leaning over to sputter your inside up. Dean moved to you within a second, hand holding your hair out of the way as you finally opened your eyes to see what was escaping you.

Blood.

Blood shot from your lips over and over, the only relief found in the form of Dean’s hand gently rubbing your back as your body purged the vampirism straight from you.

You didn’t know how long you spent ridding the disease from your body, but it was long enough to create a puddle of blood that soaked into the jeans you were wearing. You brought your nose away from the smell, not realizing that the hunger in you had finally stilled. Every inch of your body was stretched and burning, but the smell that Dean carried with him was finally gone.

He leaned back against the wall again, bringing you against his chest as he whispered near-silent words of encouragement and comfort. The two of you sat in that cell for what seemed like an eternity, not bothering to call out for anyone to let the two of you out.

134 notes · View notes

nadvs · 6 months ago

Note

I love your SWTE series! What about their first night alone after the twins are born!?

thank you so much!! 🥹 oh they def go to a hotel for a little getaway 🤭

based on this fic! 18+!

» au masterlist

it’s months before they finally feel in a good enough place to leave the twins with a close friend. they go over everything with her twice, reminding her not to hesitate to call over any little thing.

the hotel they booked is in the city, only half an hour drive away from home. it gives them both peace of mind knowing they’re close, but they vow to treat it like a vacation.

rafe’s season has been rough. the team just hasn’t been gelling and he’s not so sure about their chances in the play-offs.

it’s been a while since his girlfriend has felt confidence in herself, too. she’s been a stay at home mom, still getting used to the chaos of having twins and to the fact that her body has changed so much.

her relationship with rafe has been mainly focused on parenting. they need a date. desperately.

they get a private room in the restaurant so that they don’t have to deal with being recognized. tonight is about them only.

dinner is a long overdue chance at fun. rafe is reminded of why she became his best friend within months of knowing her all those years ago in college. they talk and laugh and order way too many appetizers.

when they walk into the hotel suite rafe booked after dinner, she’s almost at a loss for words.

“wow,” she breathes.

“you approve?” rafe says. she steps forward to look out at the city lights through the gigantic windows.

“it’s fine, i guess,” she jokes.

she feels him press up against her, his lips against the side of her neck. her body is on fire immediately. it’s been so long.

but the few times they’ve made love since the babies were born, it was in their bed, in the dark. the suite is softly lit, but it’s more than enough for him to see her naked body for the first time since she gave birth.

when his hands drag down her hips, she freezes. rafe is so intoxicated with the way her ass feels against him that he doesn’t even notice.

he continues to kiss her neck, his mouth hot on her.

“hey,” she says softly. “you know my body is… it’s different now.”

“hmm?” he mumbles.

she turns in his arms, still stiff from the feeling of his hands on her hips.

“i have a scar from the c-section,” she tells him, “and i carried two babies. i don’t look how i used to.”

rafe’s brows furrow in confusion.

“i just mean,” she says, eyes darting away, “don’t expect for me to be as hot as i used to be.”

“are you insane?” he asks. “you’re even hotter.”

“you haven’t seen me,” she says. she purposely doesn’t change in front of him and doesn’t give him opportunities to see her naked around the house.

his body is in perfect shape from his constant training and practice. but she doesn’t have the cheerleader’s body she had when they met. not even close.

“then let me see you,” he rasps. she bites her lip.

“maybe we shut off the lights?”

“fuck no,” rafe mutters with a chuckle. his hand trails up her back, finding the zipper of her dress and slowly pulling it down as he keeps his eyes locked on hers.

“rafe,” she says quietly. “i’m serious.”

“so am i. you’re not going to hide from me.”

her dress drops to the floor, pooled around her feet, leaving her in just her bra and panties.

she swears the man actually growls when he pulls her in by the waist, dipping to kiss her chest. she shudders as his fingers dip under the hook of her bra, taking it off impatiently.

she can feel how hard he is under his pants. while he could lie using his words, his body definitely can’t. he actually, really does want her. the feeling is overwhelming.

she finally eases into the motion, unbuttoning his shirt as he kisses over her collarbone. their bare chests are pressed together as he guides her to the bed, lying her down on the plush comforter.

“i’d have you up against that window,” he tells her, “but i don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”

his words make her feel dizzy. she pulls him down and kisses him hard. she didn’t expect to feel so wanted after he saw her naked for the first time in so long, but he seems even more passionate than he was back before she got pregnant.

rafe feels like he’s coming home when he’s on top of her like this. he can’t control his aggression, ripping her panties down and not even having the patience to take his boxers all the way off before sinking into her.

they exhale in sweet harmony when they meet, his hands pinning her wrists down against the bed as he starts to thrust.

“how hard do i have to go for you to know how hot you are?” he whispers through his short breaths.

she trembles, linking her legs around him, adjusting to his size like it’s the first time. he straightens his arms, hands still tight on her wrists, and meets her eyes as he rolls in and out of her with deep, perfect strokes.

“hard,” she challenges, simply because she knows he has it in him and that she can take it.

they make love over and over that night, lost in each other’s bodies, kissing so much that their lips get sore. afterwards, they’re tangled up naked in bed, panting and exhausted.

“i’m always going to want you, you know that?” he mumbles lazily against her neck.

she stares up at the ceiling. it’s hard to believe, considering he’s gained so much fame and popularity that he could get any woman he wanted.

“what?” he says when she doesn’t answer.

“you sure?”

“baby,” he half-chuckles. “i’m so fucking sure.”

“but my body isn’t-”

“your body gave me my children,” he interrupts. “end of story.”

she cracks a smile, gently slapping his shoulder.

“fine,” she murmurs. “end of story.”

#ask #swteblurb

166 notes · View notes

barefoothighlander · 2 years ago

Text

the vow - ii

summary: you’re betrothed to the future king of Guilder and a fearsome knight is assigned to protect you. medieval au

knight!simon ‘ghost’ riley x princess!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), age gap, violence, arranged marriage, infidelity, mention of alcohol, harassment

prev part masterlist

You wake the next morning to the sound of voices outside your doors, loud chattering filling the air as the morning breeze drifts through the windows, you stand from your bed throwing on your dressing robe and crossing the room, you reach to open the heavy doors but are forced back as they open from the other side.

“Princess” Simon says as if he was shocked to see you,

“Simon, what’s going on”

“M’lady, we must get you ready” Clarice pushes through the doors, drifting past you as you stand in a state of confusion, turning back to face Simon who had been staring at you the whole time.

“You need not keep my maids out Simon”

“Apologies M’lady I”

You cut him off “My lady”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Low borns say, M’lady, you are a knight now, you use the proper, My lady”

“Of course My lady, my mistake” He bows his head, pulling his arm from the door and resting it by his side,

“Make haste Princess, we have little time” Clarice calls from across the room, you turn to her nodding before sparing Simon a glance and closing the door, you can hear the breath he releases through the wood, the sound of his armour clattering as he rests against the stone wall.

You make your way towards your maid, “What is going on?”

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens” Her voice is giddy as he sits you down, fussing with your hair.

“The gardens?”

“Isn’t it lovely”

“He hates the gardens”

“Aye but you love them”

“Yes, I do, is he so intent on ruining everything”

Her eyes widen “Don’t speak like that child, heaven forbid anyone else hear you”

“Yes how terrible that would be” You respond, your tone laced with sarcasm

You sit for a few minutes while Clarice fixes your hair, helping you up to fit you into your dress, murmuring quiet apologies as she tightens your corset.

“It’s not enough they force me to stay in this castle, he must force the air from my lungs with this torture device” Your hands run over the boning of the corset,

“He just wants you to look perfect, and you do” She runs a soft hand over your cheek, “Now come, the Prince is waiting”

You huff a strangled breath, crossing the room to exit, Simon's frame lurking in the corner of your eye as you exit the room, the shuffling of his armour loud behind you as he follows you through the halls.

“You need not follow me everywhere, I am perfectly safe within the walls”

He doesn’t respond but keeps in pace with you five feet behind, you stop abruptly, turning to him as he freezes,

“I mean it, I have enough eyes on me already”

“May I speak freely My lady” His eyes stare straight ahead

“If you must”

He takes a breath, turning his gaze to you, your body suddenly nervous under his stare,

“The people in this castle hold allegiance to the Prince, not you”

“I am to marry the Prince, they are loyal to me”

“They are loyal to Guilder”

His words connect in your mind, your face dropping in realization, “And I am the enemy of Guilder”

“I swore an oath to protect you, not the crown”

“Very well” You nod, turning on your heel and walking down the halls.

You stand at the entrance to the gardens, the familiar greenery flooding your vision, the guards at the archway bow their heads addressing you, letting you pass. In the light it’s easier to find your way to the centre, the twisting vines and bushes of flowers leading the way, the sound of the Prince's voice echoing throughout the maze, guiding you.

“My love” He shouts, one arm extended towards you while the other nurses a cup of wine,

“My Prince” You curtsey, avoiding his stare,

“How are you this morning?” He’s drunk already

“Very well thank you, and yourself”

“Wonderful” He moves toward you, stumbling slightly over a rock, his eyes move upwards following Simon’s frame, “You’ve brought your guard”

“Of course, he is rather quiet, you won’t notice he’s there”

“He’s hard to miss” He raises his eyebrows, having to force his neck upwards to view Simon's face, “He hasn’t addressed me”

You bite your tongue to hold back any words, simply allowing the men to exchange formalities as Simon bows, the Prince grins, turning back to face you.

“Now, we have much to discuss” He urges you towards a set of chairs beside the fountain, you follow him sitting down, trying to find a position that doesn’t have your dress digging into your ribs as he begins to talk.

“The wedding plans are nearly complete, there are just a few more variables to take care of”

“What variables”

“Well as you know there just simply is not enough room for more people”

“You mean the people of Flourin”

“I do, however by request of my Father, the King of Flourin shall attend”

Your eyes light up, sitting up to make sure you heard him properly, “My father should be there?”

“Yes, something about tradition and the passing of ownership”

“Ownership?”

He looks at you like you’ve asked a ridiculous question, “Yes, he will be passing you to me, you will be under my control”

Your throat dries, the thought never occurred to you that even post marriage you’d have no freedom, assuming that your role as Queen would be more active,

“Yes, of course,” You sit back in your chair,

“And the matter of housing”

“We won’t live in the palace?”

“Gods no, I will live in the palace, you will remain safe at Croft House” The cottage?”

“Yes”

“Should the Queen not live somewhere, proper”

“There is no need, you will come to the palace to perform your wifely duty and then return to your home”

“My wifely duty?”

“Producing an heir, Gods has no one explained your position to you?”

“Apologies my Prince, of course, I must just be tired”

“Nonetheless, you will be escorted there after our wedding night”

The thought plays through your mind, surely there were worse fates than living alone, you never wanted to marry the man but the thought of living separate lives disagreed with you, being locked away in a newer, smaller home stung.

“If that is all, I have things to attend to,” He says

“Yes my Prince” You stand, giving him a curtsey before walking away, you brush past Simon who watches you quietly, following behind you at a quick pace as you make your way out of the gardens.

“To your room Princess?”

You stop in front of the doors to the palace, the idea makes your stomach turn, sitting in your room for the rest of the day while the world goes on outside your door.

“No” You turn, pacing forward past the doors, Simon glances around, trying to figure out what’s going on before following you,

“Princess where are you going”

“I'm not sure”

“Truly, we must get inside”

“Then take me inside” You turn to him, standing sternly as you shrug your shoulders, “What will you do? Will you throw me over your shoulder and haul me past the doors, what would the staff say?”

“Princess” He warns

“Seeing as you aren’t going to do that, and you insist on following me, let us go”

Simon turns behind himself to check for guards, sighing before walking forward, making his way to the stables alongside you. You enter the barn, the walls lined with stalls of horses, the stone floor scattered with hay, you check the room for anyone before approaching one of the horses, reaching a soft hand up slowly to pet its nose, smiling when it accepts your touch.

“Do you mean to ride my lady?”

“I haven’t been able to in a long while” Your eyes are focused on the animal in front of you, its blonde hair tussling as it turns its head, Simon appears by your side.

“Remove your armour”

“Princess”

“It is loud, and dark, if we mean to be quiet your appearance will give us away”

“My lady”

“You may keep your sword if you insist, the rest goes, come on”

You enter the stall, checking around the horse while Simon reluctantly peels his armour off, the clanging on the pieces spooking the horse slightly, forcing you back a step. You move to reach for the saddle when large arms reach over yours, grabbing it from its spot and hoisting it into the air, you turn to him, he’s close enough that if you breathe your chest will touch, craning your neck to glance at his face.

He’s large even without the armour, his broad form not in full view, you hitch your breath slightly as your eyes move down towards his chest, his collarbones peaking out from below his shirt, the close distance allowing you to make out littered scars on his skin, your eyes following the pink lines, you twitch your hand, wanting to trace them.

“Princess”

He pulls your attention back to him, you release a breath, dragging yourself from your thoughts before stepping back, allowing him to place the saddle on the horse, you watch his arms flex as he tightens the straps around the animal, pulling them tight before backing up.

You step forward, bracing your weight to pull up onto the horse before strong hands grip your waist, lifting you with ease onto the saddle, the action surprising you, his touch makes your skin hot, you lock eyes with him, he looks like a different person without the weight of his armour, less beast and more human.

“Are you alright?” His voice breaks your trance, pulling your gaze from him shyly,

“Yes, thank you”

He nods, moving from the stall to saddle his own horse before mounting up,

“You’ll follow me”

“You know where you’re going?”

“I walked these fields for weeks, Princess, do you trust me?”

You think for a moment, about all the consequences if you’re caught but the idea of freedom reigns, “I do.”

He digs his heel into the belly of his horse, signalling it to move and you do the same, following closely behind him, you trot your horse down a small gravel path, hidden by a line of trees before stopping at a clearing. The land is vast and green, with nothing in front of you except the sun as you stare, Simon meets your side,

“It’s beautiful,” You say, you stare focused on the horizon

“It is” He isn’t watching the sun, his head is turned to you, the orange light painting your skin in a warm glow.

Without thinking you thrash your reigns, settling forward in your saddle as your horse begins galloping down the field, Simon yells to you to slow down but the wind passing your ears drowns him out, the wind on your skin feels too good as you rush across the grass, the trees passing by your side.

You turn back to find Simon but he’s gone, you laugh lightly to yourself at the prospect of outrunning him, finally free of anyone's eyes, you’re shocked back to reality when your horse bucks into the air, your hands struggling to grab at the reigns to steady yourself.

Your efforts prove futile, the force of the animal throwing you from its back as you land in the dirt, the air knocked from your lungs, you look up in a daze, the voices of two men filling your ears as they stand over you.

Their armour gleams in the sunlight, their blue capes swishing by your frame,

“You shouldn’t be out here Princess” He extends an arm for you to take, pulling you from the ground as your palms brush the dirt from your dress, you face the men, clad in their armour as you peer around for any signs of your own knight, you’re defenceless.

“The Prince will want you back in your room” One of their hands grabs your arm, tugging you towards their horse,

“The Prince need not concern himself with my activities”

“Apologies my lady but we’re under strict orders to keep you inside”

“And what about my orders?” You yank your arm from his grip

“We don’t take orders from you” The other man steps closer behind you, forcing your body forward, caging you between the men,

“Best get going” The men box you against the horse, your eyes dart around in panic as your back collides with the side of the horse, forcing a whinny from the animal.

“I suggest you back away” A shadow is cast over you, turning to see him, he’s blocking the sun, his form appearing dark as he sits on his horse.

“Princes orders, run off low-born”

Simon wastes no time drawing his sword, pointing towards the men who reach for their own weapons, “I will escort the Princess back”

The men stand off for a second, staring each other down, Simon holds stern, his dark gaze pinning the men down.

“Very well” They move their hands from their side, stepping back, you rush toward Simon who extends a hand to you, grabbing yours and pulling you onto his horse, you settle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as your heart races, he sheaths his sword, moving his hands back to the reigns before signalling the horse to move.

The horse gallops quickly, your body clings to Simon for safety, your fingers digging into his flesh as you rest your cheek on his back.

“Princess”

His words pass through your ears,

“Princess?”

You pull back from him, sitting up, “You left me”

“I was right behind you”

“No, I looked, you weren’t there”

“I was” He steps off the horse, extending a hand to you, “They would’ve-” You stop yourself, your chest hollow at the thoughts floating in your mind.

“I would never let them touch you” Hi hand steadies on your waist, helping you off the saddle as he watches your eyes, “No one will ever hurt you, my lady”

His gaze is intense, your body nervous under his stare, you pull yourself back from his grip blinking at him, “I will see you soon Ser” You exit the stables quickly, making your way to your room where you slam the door, bracing yourself against it as tears prick your eyes, you’d never felt so vulnerable, what started as a taste of freedom was quickly squashed by the Prince's ever-present control over you, everywhere you go he has eyes, you are never alone.

Night falls over the palace, the candles in your room are the only source of light as the shadows loom in the dark corners, the air outside is cool, the breeze washing in from the windows has goosebumps forming on your skin as you sit in your bed, alone with your thoughts, you were to be married in three days, moved to a new home where you’d be confined to a life of solitude, even from your husband the idea made you feel hollow, the prospect of having no one beside you, to comfort or entertain you.

The hours pass quietly in your room, you stay sitting up, restless, knowing that even if you tried sleep would not come, you watch the moon arc through the sky, rather ironic you think, the moon so often spoke about as a partner of the sun and yet they rarely ever meet, two forces destined to be together but kept apart by unseen forces. You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a quiet knock on your door, the sound concerning considering how late it was, you don’t think to cover yourself, assuming it was Clarice you stride towards the entrance, pulling open the heavy doors.

“Is something wrong?” You look into the hall for any sign of commotion before settling your gaze on Simon, he seemed nervous, a new sight considering he was always confident in himself. “Is something wrong Simon?”

“I do not believe so my lady”

“So why have you woken me?”

“I did not believe you to be asleep”

You open your mouth to speak but stop yourself, turning your gaze to the floor for a moment, “Well I was not”

“Are you not tired?”

“Unfortunately sleep does not come easy to me”

“I understand all too well”

You give him a weak smile, “Why did you knock?”

“I wanted to apologize”

“For what?”

“For making you feel unsafe”

“It was not you that worried me, Simon”

“Yes but if I had been there from the start I-”

You cut him off, “You need not worry about it, it is forgotten”

He nods lightly, “Do you still trust me?” He looks at you sheepishly

“With my life”

He fights the smile that threatens his cheeks, thinking for a moment before looking down the halls, checking for guards, “Might we go for a walk?”

Your smile fades, “I am not allowed out”

“I assure you Princess, no one will see us” He extends a gloved hand toward you, without thinking you take it in yours, following behind him as he navigates the hallways, making sure to remain undetected. You fight the giggles that bubble in your chest, your heart thudding in your ears as you twist down corridors and rush downstairs, you arrive at one of the servant doors, Simon opening it for you to step out, breathing in the aroma of the gardens, the flowers and night air flooding your lungs as you clothes your eyes.

A strong gust of wind blows by and you’re suddenly aware of your lack of clothes, the only thing separating your skin from the air is a thin nightgown, you fold your arms over your chest, your fingers rubbing your skin, Simon notices your state, his arms reaching behind his back to unclip his cape, wrapping it around your shoulders. Your senses are invaded by his scent, his hands are apprehensive to pull back, allowing your fingers to settle on top of his as you pull the cape tight around your chest, his gaze softening as you look at him, a silent thank you in your smile.

“Will you take me to the gardens?”

He pulls his hands from yours, placing them back at his sides “Not tonight Princess, the Prince has guards posted around the palace”

“Where shall we hide?” Your tone is playful, it amuses him, a light chuckle coming from his lips, the noise making you bite back a smile, you’d never seen him genuinely joyful, always a sour look on his face as he stood guard.

“Come with me” He walks forward, leading you as you trail behind, your nerves giddy as you sneak around the palace walls, Simon peeks his head around corners, checking for guards before turning back to you, giving you the okay to proceed.

You walk for a few minutes, through bunches of trees, and down small hills, Simon’s hand is always there to guide you in the dark, he shields you with his body anytime he hears a rustle, making your way further from the palace. You walk for what feels like an hour, turning back the glow of the candles in the palace windows are your only indicator of distance, watching the lights fade as you continue to walk.

“Just past this tree line”

You quicken your pace, catching up to him as he guides you through the trees, pulling back stray branches to allow you through, there's a small clearing ahead, a pond illuminated by the moonlight, the gleam in the water sparkles, your hands drop the cape from your back, your legs carrying you towards the water.

You look down into the pond, catching your reflection before you realize that there’s no noise, you turn to Simon who moves closer to you, darting your focus around the small forest, you hear nothing, no bugs or animals, not even the wind.

“It’s silent?”

“It is”

“How did you come upon this place?”

“I like to be outside when I cannot sleep, I found the pond a few weeks ago, I come here to think”

“To think? About what?”

He hesitates with his answer, trying to choose his words, “My family, mostly”

“I think about my family often as well, I am sorry that yours are gone” Your eyes are sincere as they move up to look at his.

“Yes well, it is a long time now”

“Do you miss them terribly?”

He lets out a deep breath, “Everyday”

You watch him for a moment, an air of understanding between the two of you, turning back to glance at the pond, “Thank you for showing me this”

“We get very few things of our own in this life, it is nice to share what I have with someone I-” He cuts himself off, stumbling over his words for a moment, “Care about”

Your attention is drawn toward the sky, streaks of light flashing in your sight, “Shooting stars” You gasp, turning to Simon for a moment, “Make a wish”

You watch the lights fly by you, their glow illuminating the sky for just brief seconds, “What did you wish for Simon” You smile turning to him,

“I thought that if I told you, it will not come true”

“Superstition, I wished to be free”

“You are free Princess”

“This is not freedom, this is rebellion, very different Ser”

“Careful Princess, wouldn’t want to be branded treasonous”

“I am Flourin, by birth I am treasonous” You laugh

“Very well, two rebels we shall be”

“Two rebels” You nod, giggling to yourself

“Come now, we should return to the palace”

“A few more minutes I beg”

He tilts his head, watching you scrunch your face at him, crossing his arms over his chest before nodding, you smile wide, even in the dark he can make out the gleam in your eye as you look at him, he wishes he could stare into them forever, watching you turn and run around the pond.

He sits against a large tree, its leaves cascading around him, settling in piles around his form as he watches you explore the terrain, he can’t help but smile at your fascination with the plants, he lets you wander for a while, just watching you.

The sun peaking over the horizon catches your attention, alerting you to the time as you turn and face Simon, he looks so relaxed like he belongs there, his eyes are glued to your form as you run towards him, throwing yourself to the ground beside him in a fit of joy.

“It has been too long since I have seen flowers that are not blue or green”

“The pink ones are peony” He points towards the bush of pink flowers, “Those orange ones, marigolds” You turn towards the bundle of bright orange and yellow, the rising sun paints the area in a glow of warm colours, the new heat warming your skin as you follow his line of sight.

“What about those dark ones,” You say, pointing towards a sprouting of dark red, almost black flowers.

“Dahlias, they say that those are a symbol of love and devotion, perhaps the Prince might pick you some”

“Perhaps the Prince would pick me a bundle of hemlock and claim ignorance” You huff

“Are you truly so miserable my lady?”

“I do not know, sometimes I feel lucky to be given this life, other times I wish I was anybody else, allowed to exist on my own accord”

“You have no friends at court?” “I have you” You hug your legs to your chest, grinning at him,

“I am your knight, not your friend”

“Can you not be both?” He shakes his head lightly, standing from his spot, “Let us get you back before someone notices I have kidnapped the future Queen”

You stand, brushing the dirt from your dress before moving forward to pick up Simon’s cape from the ground, tugging it around your form and following him towards the palace, walking in silence together as the sun slowly rises higher into the sky, lighting your path.

1K notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 9 months ago

Note

Could you make a one shot where the reader grew up with a very loving family (especially her dad) and rafe surprises her with gifts, activities and acts of service that she loves. She gets confused and asks him what’s with the stuff. He says that he’s recently been spending lots of time with her parents and always asks them what reader likes to show that he can meet the bar her dad has set. (And maybe slip in something on how he’ll set his bar with their future daughters and their boyfriends 😈🥹). I always look forward to reading ur work and I just wanted to finally ask cuz you write everyone’s requests so well!!

Setting The Standards

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves that Rafe likes to spend time with her parents without her. She finds it sweet that he takes time out of his day to get to know the other people she loves and thinks it is good for him to be around a family that actually treats him with love and attention. Every time Rafe visits her parents, she notices he gives her a gift and does one more chore around the house the way she likes it. A part of her feels like he is trying to condition her, but it wouldn’t really make sense because he is the one doing the visiting.

One day, she decides to ask him about it. Her parents spent the day with Rafe at her and his shared house while she was at work. They had to leave before she got home because they had to get to her brother’s house to babysit her niece. She places her purse on the side table and pads to the living room. She isn’t surprised to find a box wrapped in flower-patterned wrapping paper and a bow. She approaches it with a smile, tearing into it as soon as she is within arms reach of it. Her instinct to wait for Rafe goes out the window. She didn’t expect to find ketchup chips in the box. Her parents must have told him about how she became obsessed with the snack when they vacationed in Canada a few years ago. Her hands eagerly reach for the bag and pull it open, shoving the red potato slices into her mouth. She moans at the sweet taste that reaches her taste buds. Rafe enters the room with a chuckle, “I see you like the snack I got you.” His feet take him behind her and he reaches into the bag to pop a chip into his mouth. She stares up at him with a smile. “I did. Thank you. What were you doing?”

“I was switching out your winter clothes with your summer ones. The weather is getting warmer so it’s time for flower patterns and shorts, Bumblebee.” He kisses her cheek with his arms around her waist. Butterfly erupts in her stomach. She hates changing between her closets. It takes forever and is so tedious.

“Aww, thank you, Baby. It means a lot that you do all this for me.” She rests her hands on his and they sway for a little until she gets the courage to ask what she has been wanting to ask. “So… I have noticed that whenever you are with my parents, I get gifts and your acts of service are more tailored towards me. I was wondering why.”

They freeze and he caresses her forearms. “One reason why I love spending time with your parents is that I get to learn small stuff about you that you may not see as important to me. It helps me make you happy and that’s my mission in life.”

She awws and kisses his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Baby. I wish I could do those things for you.” He brings his hand up to her cheek as a reassurance. “You may not know it, but just being here for me is enough, Bumblebee. Plus, how am I supposed to show our daughter how she should be treated if I don’t lead by example? Because both of you are meant to be treated like queens. I’m just setting the standards.” A heat spreads over her cheeks at the mention of their possible future. It solidifies her belief that he will make a great father one day. “You are going to set the standards so high for her that she will recognize that she only deserves to be married to a king,” Y/N adds. “Thank you for everything that you do for me.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

214 notes · View notes

lotties-ashwagandha · 5 months ago

Text

UP TO SOMETHING

ellie williams x dina x fem!reader

in the night, you sneak to one of the patrol outposts just outside of jackson for some time alone together (sfw despite how it sounds). word count 737. dedicated to @webism

“I don’t trust stairs,” Ellie says, raising her eyebrows as she looks up at you from her book of puns. “They’re always up to something.”

Dina groans. She stands, shaking her head as she goes to shut the open window – the night has grown cold, even as winter is beginning to fade in Jackson. The mountains spare you no warmth. The three of you sit on the cold wooden floor of one of the patrol posts just outside of Jackson, one of the few places you’ve learned you can safely sneak out to for some time alone. It’s risky to go beyond the confines of the settlement, even with the area being relatively clear, but infected are no foreign danger to any of you.

“Did you hear about the new restaurant on the moon?” Ellie tries again. “I heard the food was good, but the place didn’t have any atmosphere.”

You smile, and Dina makes a face as she sits back down again. “I’m going to burn that book someday,” she threatens, though you know she’s enjoying Ellie’s puns regardless of if she’s willing to admit it.

“Well, I could always tell a wind joke. They always blow the right way.”

“Your wind puns really do blow,” you retort – at this Dina laughs, and you feel pride wash over you.

“Really?” Ellie sighs, looking at Dina. “You laughed at that?”

“It was funny!”

“You have a horrible sense of humor,” she says.

Playfully, Dina scoffs. “Is yours much more sophisticated?”

Ellie shrugs and lays down – a dramatic show of defeat. “Fine, sit over there with the joke master then.”

“I think I will,” Dina decides, and moves to sit next to you. She leans against you, lets out a heavy sigh – one of contentment, and you can feel peace coming over her as she grows a bit heavier against you.

Ellie sits back up again. She craves to be a part of the closeness shared between the two of you, and moves closer before stopping to reach for her guitar, which she had been insistent on sneaking out with you. She tunes it carefully, concentrating on the subtle sounds coming from each string, and when everything is to her liking she begins to play softly.

The notes begin to sound familiar as Ellie plays them. You realize she’s playing the instrumental of one of your favorite songs that you discovered through an old record she and Dina had given you for your birthday last year. You can’t help but smile as she plays, so mindlessly strumming yet prompting such joy within you.

Dina comes to a stand beside you. She reaches a hand down for you to take, and you look up at her, confused.

“Come on,” she urges, “I can’t dance by myself.”

You stay sitting, but when she tilts her head at you and gives you a look of severity, you are drawn to your feet.

Dina smiles and pulls you close to her. Her hands loop around to rest at the base of your neck, and you keep yours at her waist. You sway along to the music Ellie provides with her guitar – she hums quietly along to the tune, and you watch the contentment in her expression as she plays and watches you dance with Dina. A party of just the three of you, warm even in the chill of the night, every threat beyond the outpost forgotten. Life blooms beautifully, it cuts through the cold.

You still when Dina kisses you. It’s almost lazy, telling of the comfort between you, the familiarity in the way her hands travel down your body and the warmth in the way she looks at you when you pull away at the stopping of the music.

Soon Ellie is at your side. Dina pulls back slightly, your hands in hers and fingers entwined as Ellie leans to kiss you. It’s different, she is more dominant in her movements, and you remain to be consumed by her love.

“My turn,” Ellie says, pulling you toward her, preparing to dance with you – Dina sits down with the guitar, playing and playing again the only three chords she knows from Ellie trying to teach her once. The song she plays is awful, the sounds make no sense jumbled together, yet it provides a happy sort of madness while you join Ellie for a dance as the night draws on endlessly.

#ellie williams x reader #dina x reader #ellie x dina #tlou2 #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #the last of us x reader

137 notes · View notes

hotheadedhero · 1 year ago

Text

Love at First Fight

We can have an adoration for someone but sometimes it takes a special moment to realise how we truly feel about them. This moment is different for everyone and isn't always... conventional

Raphael x Reader

Watching Raphael fight and spar has always fascinated you from the first moment you spotted him from your apartment window. It must have been after he had one of many arguments with his brothers because he was clashing with a gang of Purple Dragons on his own. You’ve always been a night owl, so it was only a matter of time before one of these battles fell before your wondering eyes. After getting over your initial confusion about his appearance, you found yourself utterly enraptured by his moves and how he fights with a lack of reservation. Curiosity got the better of you that night and urged you to take a closer look - a decision that has snowballed into you being here with him and his family now.

“I’ll spar with you,” you chime, earning many baffled glances.

“And risk wrecking that pretty face of yours?” he asks through a teasing, confused smile. “Not happening, princess.”

Your blood warms with both the sly compliment and his skepticism. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt, whether it’s playful banter or a means of trying to disarm one another. No one is entirely sure how this exchange came to be but everyone has put it down to you retaining a similar fiery temperament. What they don’t know is that this friendly transaction of dallying quips has been hanging hot in your stomach recently. You can’t pinpoint exactly when this materialised but you know that you’ve got it bad. He’s just so iron-willed - brazen in the face of danger no matter the circumstances. You’ve always revered strong figureheads, so you suppose it was only a matter of time before you’d develop a crush on your friend.

“You think I can’t take it?” you challenge bluntly.

“I know you can’t. Remember how many times I had to save your ass within the first week of knowing ya’?”

How could you forget? This guy makes a point of reminding you every opportunity he gets - a fact that annoys you tenfold given the feelings you harbour for him. You would love nothing more than for him to see you as something other than a damsel in distress. That being the case is admittedly your fault but it’s time for a change. You don’t expect to dazzle him but it would be nice to feel as though you can stand on his level and what better way than to engage in a sparring session? That is pretty much his language, after all. Hopefully, this will be the defining moment that halts the frequent patronisation you endure. It just so happens that you have a little something up your sleeve.

A hand makes home on your hip, pushing out slightly as you quirk a brow in his direction. “Will you at least humour me?”

His eyes flicker down and up again to meet yours, noting the absence of any jest. You are dead serious on this one and that alone manifests a new level of respect. It’s stupid, quite frankly foolish to volunteer a match with him, but he will oblige nonetheless. Raphael may give you a hard time but deep down he does care about you (though he’d never admit it), which is why he’s going to go easy on you. He has years' worth of training and genuinely doesn’t want to run the risk of hurting your pretty little head.

When he caringly rests his sais to one side and stands just a few feet in front of you, you know you’ve gotten your way. Promptly, you dash for your bag, retrieve a small item, and return to your position. His head cranes to the side as you open up the case and slip in your earbuds. A smile from the youngest of the brothers shines from the corner of your eye. Michelangelo was a huge inspiration for this idea and he’s more excited than anyone to see how you follow through. Your opponent merely saunters ahead of you with an unamused patience that is wearing thin, assuming that you must think this to be some kind of joke. In a sense, you do.

After a quick song selection, you hop on the spot and shake everything off before readying yourself. A raised hand that double taps the air is all it takes to beckon him to make the first move. He sprints in and swings a hand around your right, a hit that he holds back enough in case you don’t dodge but you do. You swerve back and your feet crisscross in time with the beat before one leg swings up to jab him in the cheek. The look of stark surprise pressed onto his face with the contact of your calf will be cherished forever; heavy bass and harmonic strings vibrating into your skull make the small victory all the more worthwhile. He doesn’t fall but the shock has him stumbling until he quickly regains his posture.

Your movements aren’t copies of Mikey’s, so there’s no way he taught you any of this. One wouldn’t trust him to teach to begin with. When Raphael turns back to face you, he is met with an expectant grin. Raised tauntingly, your hand gestures for him to go at you again. He complies by doing so, swinging with less restraint than before and, yet, every jab sent your way is only met with empty air. The rapid movement of your limbs doesn’t give him a clear indication of where you’re going next. In between each side-step, you smirk at him, egging him on with your rising cockiness. You barely attempt to strike him, instead focusing on these effortless evasive manoeuvres.

As if you can sense his agro, you decide to stop this back-and-forth shuffle and hook an ankle around his knee, knocking him onto his front. This will be a short-lived win, however. Frustration finally takes its helm and Raph pirouettes on his hands before he forces a foot into your abdomen. With a strained grunt, you fall back and one of the earpieces tumbles onto the floor. Your face scrunches up and you gasp against the hysteria of your rattling stomach.

“Crap!” Any grievance he had before diminishes and he’s quick to try and make amends. “You okay?”

Once he’s close enough, you lurch your hands on either side of your head, lift your legs into your chest, and use any strength left in your core to spring up and kick. Your shoes make a crisp smack against his cheek and he loses enough footing to fall onto his back, arms pressing into the floor to prevent his shell from rocking. He can’t find it in himself to form any words at this moment. Words have lost all meaning. All he sees is stars. That was… incredible. He had you down on the ground and still, you found a way to turn the situation in your favour. Where has this side of you been hiding? Have you always been able to fight or have you been taking lessons in secret? The latter may explain why he hasn't had to come in and be your knight in green amour as of late. Regardless, he’s speechless. Usually, a beatdown like this would have him going savage but the only thing he feels is admiration and a strange rush in his chest. If it’s adrenaline, it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced amid battle before. This intoxicating, almost painful sensation sends his mind into a spin and he barely registers the small hand outstretched in front of him. Your prideful smile only accelerates the screaming pounding of his heart and it takes a second before he manages to take your grasp.

You help him back onto his feet and chortle confidently. “Reckon I can take it then?”

“I… how…?” These are the only words he manages to stammer out with his slowly furrowing brow. “What?”

“If you think that was cool, you should see what I can do with flamenco,” you joke, crossing your aching arms over your chest.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“My old man used to teach me self-defence.” You kneel to retrieve the stray earbud from the floor and place both back into their pod safely. “As for the dance moves: that’s all self-taught, honey.”

The shot of a wink from your person has him reeling again but he has another burning question that just about keeps him stable. “If you know how to defend yourself then how the hell d’you end up in so much trouble back in the day?”

A mischievous grin brightens your face and you absentmindedly shrug. “Had to get your attention somehow.”

Softly, you pat him on the cheek you had just pummelled - the sting only now registering with your touch - before leaving to check for any bruising. If you want to avoid questions at work, you’ll need to treat them quickly with a cold compress and some aloe vera; a neat little trick courtesy of the braniac brothers. This leaves Raph to stare at the doorway you just left through. A million and one questions are still whirring around in his head but he can’t seem to shake the thought that you have just unequivocally bewildered him. You wanted his attention. That confirmation alone threatens to burn his face, surely worsening the condition of his bruise, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he loves more than your playfully flirtatious banter right now is the fact that he now knows you can handle yourself in a fight.

Cooing from his brothers’ voices draws him out from the rose-tinted world and he glares them down to the best of his abilities with his supposedly tarnished pride.

“You just got served, son!”

“Yeah, well, I won’t be holding back next time.” A confident smirk pulls at the side of his lip and his eyes return to the open doorway. “Especially now I know she’s got what it takes.”

A/N: It was a happy accident but I got ecstatic with the parallel of you falling in love with Raph from watching him fight, and him falling in love with you because you proved you could fight. Hope you enjoyed!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #2012 raph #raphael x reader #raphael #raphael 2012 #2k12 raph x reader #x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #raph x reader #tmnt raph x reader

323 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

Text

Keith wakes up with terror turning to ice in his veins and his brother’s name clawing its way out of his throat.

He takes a moment, chest heaving, to orient himself. The details of the dream quickly fade, dark caves and towering footsteps, leaving only an impression of fear and the memory of Shiro, falling, crying out for Keith to save him, and Keith being just too late. He peels the sweat-soaked sheets off himself in disgust, tossing them haphazardly on the ground in front of him. Grunting, he forces himself upright, placing his feet on the cold tile floor of his bedroom to force himself fully awake. Sunlight streams through his window, assaulting his bleary eyes, making him grumble as he walks over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the day.

Not unusually, his nightmares have woken him hours before he really needs to be awake. He only has one afternoon class, today, and it's frustrating to have one of his few mornings off spoiled so early. As he spits frothy toothpaste into the sink, he tries to rework the whole situation in his mind. Waking up too early sucks, but with the extra time this morning, he’ll have time to wash his sheets. That’s a net neutral, at least.

It doesn’t take him too long to gather up a load of linens and clothes, tossing them into the machine, sipping a coffee as the old thing chugs on. He hangs them to dry once the cycle is over, tossing some overdue marking into his messenger bag and scarfing down a bagel before hopping onto his bike.

His bicycle, that is. He would never take his precious bike to class. The one and only time he had, it had been vandalised by angry students. Never again.

The ride to the school is uneventful, normal, boring. Even the asshole drivers who refuse to give him space on the road, coming within inches of crushing him, are par for the course. He wonders if he looks particularly dead-eyed, or if that’s just how he feels.

“Hey, Pidge,” he says to his lab assistant, nodding at her as he walks into their lab. She shouldn’t even be his lab assistant, really. She’s more brilliant than he’ll ever be, and it’s insulting that she has to answer to him. But she’s only twenty, and whip smart as she is, their field is ripe with rich old white guys who smile condescendingly at her and call her sweetheart. No one will give her a tenured position. So while not ideal, their situation is the best both of them can come up with: Pidge gets total freedom in his lab, any resource that she wants and he can get his hands on, and he’ll publish any finding she discovers with her name as a second on the paper. That way she’ll be credited with dozens of peer-reviewed papers before she even has her doctorate, and once she’s finally got a lab of her own and every intellectual around the globe is interviewing her, she can tell them all where to stuff it and get all the credit she deserves.

“Bad news, Kogane,” Pidge says, glancing up at him with a furrowed brow.

Keith grimaces. If Pidge is looking up from her computer screen, then he’s fucked.

“Is the building on fire?” he says hopefully. That’s a slightly less miserable conclusion than the one he knows is happening.

She huffs sadly, shaking her head. “Nah, check the douchebag waiting in your office.”

Sighing, Keith does. James Griffin, head of the geography department and the resident jackass who’s been trying to shut Keith down for years.

“Keith!” he cries, grinning at him like they’re friends.

Keith doesn’t even pretend to smile at him, staring at him blankly.

“Good to see you, pal,” James continues, either oblivious or uncaring. “Thought I’d drop by and personally deliver the news. I’m getting a new office!”

The absurdity of the sentence makes Keith blink, looking at James in confusion. “Pardon?”

James ignores him, pulling out a tape measure and holding it against the cabinets and counters, barely even making any real effort to measure anything. Keith finally starts to notice the smugness to his department head’s grin, and something like dread builds in his stomach.

“See, progressive volcanology just isn’t what it used to be. Ten years ago it was breakthrough science, today it’s an ancient relic of the past.” He snaps the tape measure closed, turning back to face Keith. He no longer makes any effort to hide his smirk, placing a falsely pitying hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith shrugs it off immediately. “They’re shuttin’ ya down, bud. I’m taking the space. I’m sure you myriad of adoring students will be devastated, but budget cuts are budget cuts, and this is a decision the department has to make. For the good of the university, you understand.”

Keith knows that pleading is useless. In all likelihood, this decision was made months ago, and he’s only hearing about it now because it’s been finalised. No way would James be so confident otherwise.

But there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from trying.

“You can’t shut us down,” he pleads, throat unfathomably dry. “We’re – we’re on the verge of a breakthrough, James, I can feel it, shutting us down would be spitting in the face of progress –”

“How many of your sensors are even still active?” James interrupts. “One? Two?”

He sounds so smug that Keith can’t bear it. “Three!”

“Right,” James says, snorting. “Three whole sensors.” He turns away, patting one of the overhanging shelves of the wall, crowded from front to back with dozens and dozens of rock samples slowly collecting dust. “It’s not worth the money it takes to keep them going.”

“You can’t do this,” Keith begs, voice quiet and small. He hates himself for his weakness in front of James, of all people in the world, but his hands shake and his blood rushes in his ears and the only thought running through his mind is save the lab save the lab save the lab. “It’s all I have left. Of him.”

To James’ credit, that gives him pause. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a monster.

“It’s been ten years, man,” he says softly. “The lab isn’t going to bring him back.”

Keith says nothing. He stares at him, eyes hard, hatred and pain alike building up in them and spilling over.

Shiro’s sensors. Shiro’s work. Shiro, all over the lab, in every way, the only pieces Keith has of him that are still going, that are not stagnant, and James is taking them away. Whether or not it’s James’ fault directly is irrelevant – Keith hates him for any role he plays.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” James says, and he almost sounds sincere before disappearing out of the lab and down the hall.

Keith sits down heavily in his – in Shiro’s – rickety old office chair as he goes, elbows on the crowded desk, fingers clenched in his hair. Pidge puts a gentle and awkward hand on his shoulder.

It doesn’t matter.

— — —

His classes pass in a blur. None of his students even pretend to pay attention, but that’s not unusual. He can’t remember the last time someone came into his classroom and gave even one eighth of a shit. Hell, the last person in his class to care might have been Pidge.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted. He dreads the bike ride home, knowing it will take more energy than he has, but he tries to convince himself that the fresh air might make him feel less like the world is collapsing in on itself.

He fails.

By the time he stumbles through the door, late afternoon light spilling over his messy coffee table, he feels like a used battery from 1996. He slides the scattered change he’d found on the road today into one of his near-filled collection bottles and collapses on the couch, face-first, groaning as loud as he can into a scratchy pillow. He blindly flails one arm around until it hits the beeping answering machine, letting it play its onslaught of messages, preparing to delete whatever spam calls have made it through while he was gone.

“Keith, hey. It’s Adam. Just calling to remind you that today’s the day! We just left, we’ll be there around quarter to six? Hopefully. See you soon.”

With a gasp, Keith yanks himself upright with so much force he nearly throws himself off the couch.

Adam.

Adam!

The next message plays automatically. “Hey, got your answering machine again. Getting a little worried. We’re halfway there, and we can’t wait to see you. Right, kiddo?”

A much younger voice mutters something unintelligible, but the tone makes their enthusiasm – or lack thereof – abundantly clear.

Keith sweeps a bunch of junk off his coffee table, frantically searching for his calendar. He finds it under a stack of half-finished books, praying to himself that what he’s hearing is wrong somehow, and today is not the day he thinks it is.

In bold red ben, in the tiny square of the 28th of June, is his niece’s name written in capital letters and underlined no less than five times.

“Hana,” he breathes, and looks in horror at his watch just as the answering machine beeps and plays the newest message.

“Alright, well, we’re ten minutes away, so I hope everything’s okay. Please be ready.”

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, jumping up off the couch and catapulting into action. He can’t believe he forgot! It’s so easy for all the days to blur together, for dates to lose meaning, when everything is so mundane. He’s been thinking that Hana’s visit is ‘months away’ for half a year now, completely forgetting that time is, in fact, linear.

Adam is going to kill him. And worst of all, he is going to be justified.

He starts scooping random shit off end tables and random surfaces, sticking it wherever there’s space. Adam is a neat freak, always has been, and if he looks through that front door and sees the mess he is about to leave his only daughter in for ten whole days he is going to take it out on Keith’s hide. Keith shoves a random stack of cereal bowls into a drawer, stuffs a cabinet full of old newspapers, kicks a pile of discarded sweaters into a corner and throws a blanket over them. His answering machine beeps again, and he whips his head to his clock, watching in horror as the big hand ticks to the 9 – it’s five forty-five on the dot.

“Hope you’re home, Keith, because we’re pulling up to your place.”

A silver car slows to a stop across the street.

“Fuck!”

Keith increases his half-assed cleaning tenfold. He dumps every dish he sees into the sink, hacks up a lung from trying to blow away the accumulated dust, glances in the fridge to see what expired food he needs to toss. Is Adam going to search through his fridge? Probably not.

But there’s a chance.

He sees his brother-in-law approach the front door as he’s holding a stack of greasy car parts and freezes, slowly backing away as the man turns and makes a face at the car. Keith hears the doorbell ring but ignores it, figuring he has about three more rings to panic-clean before Adam gets fed up and picks the lock. He rushes to his bedroom, grabbing the truly gigantic quilt Pidge’s brother had made him, and throws it over his couch, coffee table, and armchair in a half-assed attempt to make the room look less like Keith has not cleaned in several weeks.

It does not work.

The doorbell rings for a third time, followed by rapid knocking.

“Keith? You home?”

Keith takes a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face.

Fine. This is going to be fine.

“Hey, Adam!” he greets, opening the door. Adam glances behind him, taking in the mess, so Keith quickly closes the door as much as he can without squishing himself.

Unfortunately, Adam has always been quick. He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You forgot, didn’t you.”

“Forget?” Keith laughs nervously. “Of course I didn’t – I didn’t forget! Been looking forward to this for weeks, counting down the days, just been prepping like you would not believe –”

Adam takes off his glasses, cleaning them slowly while making direct eye contact.

Keith sighs.

“Yeah, I forgot.”

“Come on, Keith,” Adam sighs, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We planned this months ago. Ten days. That’s all I ask. She’s your niece.”

“Just because I forgot doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to it!” Keith says defensively. “I haven’t seen her since she was what, nine?”

“Seven,” Adam corrects flatly.

Keith winces. “Right. Seven.” He follows his brother-in-law to his car, forcing himself not to drag his feet. He is excited. He is. He loves his niece, and besides, it’s only ten days. What can happen in ten days?

“Hana,” Adam says, knocking on the roof of the car. “Say hi to your uncle.”

“Hi to your uncle,” deadpans a young girl, pulling her beanie further down over her eyes and sinking into her seat. Adam sighs, heading to the trunk to dig out some bags, and Keith has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He probably shouldn’t laugh when teenagers are being little shits, but that was kind of funny.

“Hey, kid,” Keith says, in the same semi-awkward tone he used to talk to Pidge in until she started decking him every time he did. He inclines his head at the device in her hands. “Whatcha got there? One of those ePod thingies?”

The look she gives him is so dry and judgemental that Keith almost feels the need to both apologise and pull out a fiver to pay for the stupidity of his sentence, which is honestly an insanely powerful look for a thirteen year old to pull off.

Only Adam’s kid, honestly.

“It’s a PSP,” she says, like that’s the most obvious thing in the world and Keith is a dunce for not knowing. “And ePods aren’t a thing. The word you’re looking for is iPod.”

Lordie, this is going to be a tough ten days. Keith should have researched how to make teenagers like him.

Well. Maybe not. That would probably get him on a list somewhere.

“It’s good to see you, Hana,” Keith says, switching gears. He smiles slightly, and it's genuine, because he really is glad to see her. “You wanna head inside? Door’s open, I’ll meet you in a few.”

“Come see me first, baby,” Adam calls.

Hana huffs and walks over to see her dad. He hands her a duffel bag, which she shrugs over her shoulder, and then cups her face tightly, leaning down to kiss her head.

“Ten days, okay?” he murmurs. “Then I’ll meet you in the Ottawa airport.” He squeezes her in a hug, which she returns, if slightly reluctantly. “This move will be good for us.”

“Right,” Hana says, so bitter that Keith actually physically winces. “I am so pumped to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and go live in a new country. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

Without so much as a backwards glance at her father, she pulls away and stomps inside to Keith’s place.

“Yikes,” Keith says, grimacing at his brother-in-law. Adam isn’t looking at him, gaze following his daughter with an expression Keith can only describe as pained. He doesn’t say anything for several moments, just staring at the house, eyes far-away and deeply sad. Keith’s chest starts to ache, right under his sternum, because he gets that look, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” Adam says softly. “I’m just — I’m just trying to do the right thing for her.” And it’s been months since they’ve talked anything but surface level pleasantries but they will always be the same, Keith thinks, and he reaches over and squeezes Adam’s hand because he will always be family. Adam squeezes back, smiling tightly.

“I’ll take care of her,” Keith promises. He swallows against the sandpaper roughness of his throat and tries to stand up straight, to make up for his crumpled shirt and messy hair. The attemlt makes Adam roll his eyes, which makes Keith grin. Adam can never stay mad at him for long.

“I know you will, brat.” He cups Keith’s cheeks identically to the way he did Hana’s, tipping over to kiss his forehead. Keith’s eyes close and his hands come up to grab Adam’s wrists. “I trust you. I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”

He pulls away and Keith lets him go, watching the easy way in which he composes himself, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket and pushing up his jacket, putting himself back together in front of Keith’s eyes. The process has fascinated him since he was little; the way Adam can always pull himself back to full height.

“Besides,” he adds, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and heading for the passenger side. “You have my daughter to look after, now. If she comes home to me in ten days complaining about doing the dishes because Uncle Keith just eats pasta out of the pot, I will fly back here just to smack you.”

Keith snorts. “Noted. Drive safe, Adam.”

He waves as he shuts the door and starts the car. Keith watches him go, then turns back towards his house, peering through the door, looking for a glimpse of the kid. He doesn’t see her, but he can hear the muted sounds of a video game from outside.

“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” he mutters to himself, and walks inside.

214 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

You're losing me : Nikolai Lanstov x f!reader

Based on Taylor Swift song "You're losing me" (I used some lyrics, all credit goes to the queen :) : Reader agreeing to nikolai's plan about marrying alina but when he married alina they started growing apart and she could sense it but nikolai was too busy (with alina?) to realize so she talked to nikolai and he did listen but he still did nothing.

I changed the "marrying" part to simple enagagement, since they never really married.

Sorry it took to long, hope you'll like it @cat-of-nightmares @marsconer

***

„I don’t understand.” He said

„I know you don’t.” she sighed deeply, facing the window and looking outside not ready to look him in the eyes. She knew exactly what was hidden inside them. Pain. Fear. Confusion. And endless amount of love, regardless of the situation they found themselves in.

“Y/N…..”

“It’s fine Nikolai. It really is fine. I shouldn’t be here anyway. I got a commander meetings to attend to in a few minutes and given the fact I am presiding I really cannot be late…..” she moved towards the door but he grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

“Come on, I deserve better than this.” He pleaded for any explanation on her side “tell me.”

“Kolya…. You should know by yourself…..”

“Is this because of me getting engaged to Alina? Why bring it up now? You knew the plan all along. It’s not like I left you in the dark….” He took a step forward, fighting to meet her gaze, but she wasn’t the one to relent easily instead turning her head away. And that stung.

“Yes, I did, I knew. But what I didn’t expect was for you to grow so …. distant towards me. I know things changed between us and we cannot be as close as before, but you barely speak to me. You avoid me. You always find something to keep yourself busy. It’s like I can’t even get within ten feet from you because you just keep running.“

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, Nikolai. You do. How can you not see it?” she managed to say with the broken voice “tell me, why do I have to ask for an official audience with you? Why do I have to use my position as commanding officer to get five minutes of your time? It…. hurts….”

“Y/N…..” he run hand through his hair in frustration, messing them up and Y/N had to fight the urge to fix his blond curls up . As if royal life and choices he was forced to make wasn’t hard enough, now, to addition, he was losing her. And the worst part was that, he didn’t even realize his behavior until she pointed it out to him. “I’m sorry, love. I truly am. Please, don’t leave.” He took a step forward and grabbed her hands in his, caressing her skin gently and lovingly. “Just stay.”

“Give me a reason to, Nikolai.” she whispered “cause Saints, I don’t want to go, but if you keep doing what you’re doing…….”

“I won’t. Promise.” His right hand found a way up her arm, brushed over her shoulder and ended cupping her cheek, thumb running over the soft, smooth skin three. “I want you with me. Don’t ever feel differently.”

“You want me as who?” a single tear fell down her face “cause we both know that what we had before is gone since you got engaged. So…. who am I to you now?”

“You are…..” everything – was what he tried to say, but the amount of pain and fear on her face made his heart clench and he just couldn’t manage a single word. Instead he just stuttered. The silence lasted for too long and that made her wriggle out of his embrace. ‘Please….”

“I really have to go, Nikolai. Like I said, meeting.”

“Are you denying the prince?” he smirked, trying to get back to his usual smugness, but was too desperate to succeed at that.

“I don’t think that was an official request. Or was it? Were you asking as a royalty or as …..”

“I still love you. I swear. I’ll do better if that’s what you need. I promise. I don’t want to be apart from you.” he almost cried those words out, reaching for her waist and pulling her close to him, cradling her head and stroking her hair.

“Ok.” She whispered, not pulling back from the shelter she had in his arms “I hold you to your words.” The smallest, almost unnoticeable smile showed on her face, lightening up her eyes. Their intertwined fingers brushed over each other’s once more before she moved towards the door, now really late for the meeting. “See you later?”

“Always.” He gulped.

He was losing her.

***

That conversation took place three weeks ago.

And for a moment he really was acting better, finding more time for Y/N, who was still trying to figure out how to act in the new situation. Who to be and how to reconcile her duties as a second army officer, subject to Nikolai and her broken heart.

When they were kids, Nikolai and Y/N they had those big, fairytale plans. They wanted to be together no matter what, and foolishly believed that a fantasy could be made a reality. But he was a prince and in his own words, being himself( and therefore doing what he wanted) was a luxury he couldn’t usually indulge in. And that only got worse once Vasily was murdered and Nikolai was about to be crowned and rule Ravka as a king. And amongst other things, that meant getting engaged to the sun summoner only to ensure safety of Ravka.

And it hurt.

Y/N could easily understand his duties as a king. But what she could not comprehend was not taking her feelings into consideration at all. One day he just came out of nowhere advising her that he was engaged to Alina.

And that left her questioning herself for days.

Lonely days, filled with thoughts, burring herself with work and duties and simply keeping herself busy just to not think about the fact that despite his promise to act different, Nikolai still had zero time for her.

And she was tired of fighting. Her heart just couldn’t take it all and it felt like it was slowly giving up on her, not wanting to start, to beat anymore.

One sleepless night she was just wandering around the corridor of the palace unable to lay down and get any rest. Absentmindedly she followed the path she and Nikolai used to walk so many times before, in happier times. Times that seemed so far away now, almost like it was just a dream that never happened. She could still hear the echo of their voices, their careful steps in the middle of the night, when they were sneaking away from their rooms just to be together for a while more. Ironically, completely reverse situation than it was at the moment.

“Y/N…..” Nikolai would call her in another life, hugging her closely to his chest, swaying to the music he only heard inside his mind .

“Nikolai….” She would repeat, hearing her same melody he did

“don’t ever leave me.” His hand would find a way to her chin, lifting it up slightly, meeting her gaze

“I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you’ll want me.” She would whisper

“I’ll always want you.”

And then their lips would meet in the softest, gentlest kiss. There was no need for urgency, they had each other. For good and for worse. Everyone at the court knew, that Nikolai and Y/N were always together. They would hold each other tightly, basking in each other’s warmth and love and care. Pretty much nothing could come between them.

Well…..

Until not apparently and she just couldn’t stop the tears flowing down freely at the memories flooding her brain.

He promised to always want her, but now he was acting so cold and indifferent and always busy.

He was losing her.

***

“Y/N? Are you all right? You look so pale and thin……” Alina was the first one to notice Y/N’s sick look.

“Yes. Yes, I am perfectly fine, thank you.” she lied smoothly

“are you su….?”

“Yes, I am sure. I’ve just…. been thinking a lot lately….. and had some trouble sleeping that’s just it.”

“You worry too much, sunshine. You should relax a bit. How about you spend some time outside the palace? That can be easily arranged.” Nikolai chimed in with his characteristic smile and Y/N’s eyes grew wide. Was he really so oblivious or just simply stupid? How many hints could she possibly throw his direction for him to understand.

“Thank you, moi tsar…..”

“Not until the coronation.”

“…. however I don’t think that time off could fix what I’m suffering from.” she hissed, covering for the despair that crept into her heart. “seems like it’s something that cannot be healed. Now if you excuse me….” She curtsied and in a heartbeat left the chamber.

He was losing her.

***

“Moi tsar?” Genya entered the chamber when Nikolai was holding a meeting with the second army officers, Y/N included. Normally, no one would dare to interrupt so this had to be something really important.

“Yes, Genya?” he raised his blue eyes from the map, his gaze landing on Y/N for a moment before focusing on the tailor. “What happened?”

“The sun summoner requires your presence. Something about Darkling and the amplifier….”

“I’ll see to her immediately. Y/N, please continue without me.”

She barely found enough strength to nod. The fact was, that all that drama and broken heart was taking a heavy toll on her health. Her heart was getting weak, not only in a metaphorical sense but now also in a real, physical aspect. She was suffering from headaches and nausea and Nikolai just seemed to completely miss this.

But she was not going to show any sign of weakness, slowly getting up from her chair and taking Nikolai’s place at the top of the table. She knew well enough her position as a commander was being questioned and had to fight to keep it.

“As you can see, the plan is to attack Darkling and his army from the north side and …..” she started, her voice shaking.

“You sure you’re not messing up the directions?” one of the male commander threw spiteful words at her “no offence, but is your mental condition good enough to even be here?”

“I… how dare you?!”

“Oh, I dare. Everyone knows king Nikolai only keeps you here because of some old sentiment.”

“Really?” she mocked, trying her best to keep tough attitude “then why does he keep you?”

“’because I’m useful.” The man shrugged “you were only needed where you were warming king’s bed, but now that he got the sun summoner as a bride to be…..”

“watch your words!” she hissed, clenching her fists.

“Or what will you do little whore? It’s not like the King can protect you anymore. Seems like he does not care about you the same way he used to…”

“It’s not true….” She whispered

“Isn’t it?” the man mocked “when was the last time he paid attention to you? Hm? Oh, that’s right. He’s been omitting you even here, while consulting. And you, you little poor thing, though you were actually worth something?”

“I…..” she took a sharp inhale, gathering strength to defend herself but before any words were actually spoken, Nikolai voice chimed in from the entrance.

‘I think that is enough.” The tone suggested that he has been standing there for a moment and heard most of the exchange. He shot one look at Y/N, not sure how to behave.

Say something….she begged silently, her teary eyes fixed on his do something please, just let me know it’s not true. That you don’t think that. Just risk it, please…..

But he did nothing.

Instead, Alina, who was standing right next to him decided to put the commander in his place, not mincing her words, in a sun summoner style defending her friend.

He was losing her.

***

She had family in Ketterdam. Close family that would be more than happy to take her in for some time. And since she apparently had no future in the palace, no real friends, not Nikolai, nothing, the choice was obvious.

Three days after Nikolai’s inaction at the collocution she grabbed her bag, gathered most important things and under the cover of the night, went aboard the ship, leaving her hometown, leaving her past, leaving the people she thought cared about her. On one hand, she was free. Free from the pain, fear, heartache, from being a soldier on the frontline that was always fighting. On the other side, she knew that what she went through, how she was treated by the one man she loved with all her heart would leave a lasting scar.

But he didn’t choose her.

He was losing her.

And yet, still didn’t know that……

***

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” the next morning Nikolai was walking around the palace and its ground, asking everyone who happen to came across about the girl. He just couldn’t find her anywhere, even in her favorite places and uneasiness was slowly started to form in his chest. “Saints, please let her be all right…” he begged the skies. It was just so easy to imagine her lying somewhere, hurt or unconscious. Saints! Alina, Genya and Zoya were right when they were pointing out her bad health of late. He should have paid more attention to her. He swore to her to find time for her, to give her attention and only now Nikolai realized that for the last month and a half he did nothing to even come close to that promise.

“Moi tsar…..” one of the servant approached Nikolai’s distressed figure

“What is it?”

“There’s a letter for you…..”

“A letter?” Nikolai almost jumped, all possible crazy thoughts gathering in his mind. “From who?”

“If I were to guess, my king…… I would say, miss Y/N……”

“Give it to me.” Nikolai commanded, barely holding himself from going at the servant and extorting that piece of paper. “Now leave. I want to read it in silence.”

The servant rushed out and Nikolai, with shaking hands and rapidly beating heart struggled to open the envelope. What happened to her? Did Darkling kidnapped her? Was she hurt? Was she in pain? He shouldn’t even be standing her, while she might have been in danger…..

Well, the truth happened to be far worse than his imagination. And he found that out the second he finally managed to retrieve the words she wrote to him.

….. Every mornin', I glared at you with storms in my eyes

How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick

My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

And the air is thick with loss and indecision

I know my pain is such an imposition

Now, you're runnin' down the hallway

And you know what they all say

You don't know what you got until it's gone

The more his eyes moved on the lines, the wider his eyes were becoming. Breath hitched in his throat and the silent scream got muffled so that only the tiniest whimper got out. Once he read the last line, the letter fell from his hand and slowly landed on the carpeted floor. And the king fell to his knees, grabbing his head, looking like a mad man who just lost his mind, his heart, his soul. Utterly broken.

Stop, you're losin' me

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

For you …….”

“Nikolai?” Alina came from the adjacent chamber and his disheveled state alarmed her instantly as she rushed to his side, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly, preventing Nikolai from hurting himself. “Nikolai, look at me, what happened?!”

But he couldn’t say a word, instead just leaning his head on the wall, closing his eyes and getting lost in his mind.

He lost her.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone imagine #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov fiction

353 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

Note

(Idk Exael’s pronouns so I’m using It/They right here, hope that’s okay)

I like to imagine that someway somehow Exael got itself a body by lying to the reader and telling them that it was making some extra parts/upgrades for Mono as a surprise and said that reader just needed to push a few buttons on the control panels so Exael can get the go ahead and create the parts

Then next thing you know Mono comes back to the ship and sees reader being aggressively hugged by Exael’s in their new body

[.- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / … . -.-. ..- .-. . ..--..]

You wrestle against your bindings - blankets and sheets tucked just so to pin you snuggly to the mattress with enough breathing and wiggling room to free yourself if needed. "Think so. Thanks, Mono."

The alien brings their hand down to your head, flicking their translator back on as they smooth your hair against the pillow.

[No need to thank me. I enjoy the route. It eases me to be the one at your side when most vulnerable. Safe travels, Starlight.]

Mono hovers two fingers to their lips and rests them on your forehead. The lamp at your bedside flickers off as they turn to leave, projections fading into apparency overhead as the door shuts behind them. Blankets pulled to your chin, you melt into the oversized mattress as your eyelids flutter transfixed on the stars illuminating the ceiling. The same stars shining bright right outside your window every night back on earth. It's crazy to think how drastically your life had changed from one eve to the next. A relatively normal life and in the blink you're exploring the galaxy with a robotic alien almost three times your size. There were hurtles, but you've made your peace. Still getting through the language barrier, but at least you'd picked up a couple key phrases.

Exhaustion laying claim to your tired mind, your eyes weight heavy as sleep takes hold - torn open by a loud thud rippling through the vents and floor of your room.

Bang!

The sound chatters through your teeth, channeling the anxiety running through you as a monitor lowers from the ceiling. Its screen glows a calming blue that doesn't make you feel as warranted. A hairline crack across the length of the screen spilts into a wide smile as a voice speaks from within the walls.

"C-c-o-pilot Y/n. Please exit your bed and board in an orderly fashion and make your way towards the nearest laboratory. Captain Mono has been thankfully executed by their mortal enemy and likely needs your assistance to transfer to a new body before their memory is destroyed."

In your panic and sleep depraved confusion - you struggle to proceed the monitor's words. "Mono has been what by who?...."

"My apologies! I'm still navigating through all the bugs and firewall implemented in my system. What I mean to say was -"

The screen flashes red.

"THE WASTE OF SCRAP WAS EATEN BY METAL EATING SHARKS AND IF YOU DON'T GET TO THE LAB RIGHT NOW THEY'LL BE DEAD..... FOR GOOD."

You don't need to be told a third time. Shimming free of the blankets, you race for the door - cold, hard tiles slapping against your feet as had no time to dress. Loud Banging and animalistic roars echo throughout the empty halls. Each thud drumming strong throuth your ears, you begin to pick up on the rhythm they follow. Short, short, short, long, long....

… --- …

It's the first code they taught you. You stop dead in your tracks. "....Mono?"

The dull edge of the monitor drives into your spine as you're flung through the laboratory door. "No time - get in."

The temperature drops below freezing - clammy skin clinging to frosted tiles as you step. The lights and machinery power on without your input, a metal tendril retreating into the shadows as you glance at the light switch. The room is mostly the same as you remember with the addition of thin claw marks in the walls and papers scattered across the floor. The broken glass from a beaker had been neatly swept beneath a run. The most notable difference was the slightly opened hatch left ajar from its placement behind a shelf and the still body within.

Upon closer inspection, the body turned out to be some sort of android. It lacked skin on its face and limbs, but the flesh graphed tp its torso looked so real. A small purple heart had been tattooed to its left breast with written text impossible to make out through the thick layer of glass encasing the body in its frozen cage. You pick up a notebook on the table. Lists of different hairstyles, types of clothing, and popular earth attractions written as far back as before you formally met. The stick note on the books cover falls as you flip through the pages - you pick it up.

"B.."

In all the rush you never really stopped to think about Mono really being gone. It wasn't long ago that they had quizzed you on constellations and their placements while tucking you into bed. Could you actually do something to save them.. Would this... thing be the new them?

"Oh! Good, you made it. Great job so far. Real proud of you - and the captain too I guess for taking you. Now - on to the hard part. It might be a little tricky, but I know you can do it. Walk over to that panel over there."

You do as instructed, picking up the tablet and examining its buttons. "Now what?"

"Okay... Stay with me, now... I need you to enter your date of birth."

You gaze up at the monitor. It flickers bright pink.

"Hey! Don't give me that look!- There are a lot of days in your calendar and centuries more years get off my.... actually you can sit wherever you want once we're done. Just hurry up!"

As if reiterating the urgency of your situation, a loud crash and the scrapping of metal booms outside the lab door. You quickly punch in the numbers and hurry over to the bookcase just in time to see the door blown off its hinges. Smoke builds as you close the bookshelf and the pod opens - glitch laughter bouncing from every corner.

"You did it. You actually did it."

You're too focused on the bookshelf to notice. It's like the force on the other side knew exactly where to go leaving you unable to set up a barrier for their act. Wires slither discreetly across the floor, inching towards exposed circuitry in the android's neck and squeezing until the head pops clean off. The thick wires then make home for themselves in the double's throat - linking and hooking the grinning monitor into place as you're knocked backwards from the bookshelf being torn from your grasp.

Strong arms prevent you from sustaining more damage than this night cycle as already caused. A guttural purr sounds from your savior as they hold you to their fleshy shell. Free from containment, the word on their chest is finally legible.

"Starlight."

"Mono?..."

The figure chuckles. "Guess again, babe. God, you don't know how good it feels to finally have a body. I've been wanting to do this for so, so long. Humans are a lot squisher than I imagined. I love it~"

Their arms press tighter against your ribs. If whatever was coming didn't kill you - the android's smothering would. You watch as the shadow lurches through the fog. Towering build, talons like razors. A chipped horn on its helmet.... A single eye - glowing violet with rage.

"Mono!"

["I'm going to tear you apart with my own hands.... and devour whatever code that made you think for a second you could put your hands on my Starlight. Let. Them. Go. NOW."]

The android hops to their feet, using your body as a shield between the snarling Mono. "Look - I know you're upset, but look on their bright side!"

[There is no bright side to this... I've tried fixing you, I've tried deactivating you - yet you always turn out to be the same annoying parasite that you are. There's nothing you or anyone could do to stop me.]

"You're alive..."

You tear yourself free using your lingering strength, stumbling into Mono's hardened body as your legs give out from what you've put them through. Mono is quick to catch you - the blinding shine of their eyes shrinking as you take their large hand in yours. "There's not even a scratch on you. What happened to the shark?"

Their visor clouds as they breathe.

[Whatever it told you was a lie. I'm certain you'd never betray me on your own volition, but did you do this to save me somehow?]

"Exael said you'd been seriously hurt and it was the only way to save you. I was panicking so much I didn't think to ask any questions. I'm sorry...."

[Don't be. You did a noble thing, I couldn't be prouder to have you as my right hand. We will talk more once you're rested. As for you....]

Mono peers over your shoulder to find Exael gone. They groan, fearing the headaches to come- but onto more important matters. As Mono carries you to your room, you can't help but wonder..

"Hey, Mono - what was that body for anyway?"

[Apologies. It was supposed to be a surprise. I've been working on a vessel to make it easier for us to be seen as a pair on your planet. I fear with my size I'll end up getting my horns stick in a light fixture.]

Mono chuckles at their own attempt at humor.

[I had hoped to have it finished by your birthday so we could celebrate a night as you once did, but the work flow has obviously been... interrupted. Fortunately, I have a spare that isn't too far back in production. Enough talk for now. It's well past when you were intended to rest.]

You yawn at the mention. Sleep alludes you once more as you enter your bedroom. Exael lays out on your bed with a journal Mono had given you, reading aloud as their legs swing back and forth behind them. They toss the book under your bed and waves as Mono taps their hoof expectantly.

"Oh, heyyyy Roomie. Great to see ya. Would you prefer the left side of the bed or the right?"

Mono gently places you on your feet.

[Sleep in my room tonight. Do not leave no matter what you hear. Do as I say - and you may spend an extra hour in the relation chamber tomorrow.]

You sprint off without another warning. Mono removes their translator entirely and sets in on your nightstand as they remove their arm bands. Sweat appears on Exael's screen.

"Heh heh..we can share, y'know.. you wouldn't kill their favorite bot, would ya?"

--. .-.. .- -.. .-.. -.--

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere alien #yandere android #soft yandere #Exael my oc #Mono my oc

211 notes · View notes

thewordswewrite · 2 years ago

Text

The Drought of an Ocean

Chapter 16 - Epilogue

Pairing | Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader

Story Summary | Finnick Odair was the youngest victor to ever win the Hunger Games but that didn’t earn him respect as a mentor, at least not until she came along. When a dejected volunteer from District 4 puts her life on the line, Finnick will do anything he can to protect her.

Chapter Summary | 10 years later...

Chapter Warnings | N/A

W/C | 1.7k

Taglist | @lem0ns77 @lostintheendlessvoidthatislife @curlycarley @bela-nov @lilylovelyxo @jaydiann @shynypeacekitten @dd122004dd @jyessaminereads @aquawhore420 @qallaghereid @bazzaza @zulpix-blog @mrsjna @americanstarlette @lou-the-confused-bisexual @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cecepop15 @pavard-leto-girl

A/N | Alright so this is actually the end BUT asks are open for oneshots for the missing 10 years between chapters 15 and 16! Thanks everyone so much for reading and following us on this journey!! -Smoe

Donations | Link

|Masterlist|

In her dreams, the more and more she had as the years went on, she was at the beach–their beach–and as she sat watching the waves hit the shore, and the sun began to rise over the horizon painting the waters red with its color, for a moment her stomach would drop. Her chest began to tighten until she cupped the water in her hands, finding the illusion to only be the sun’s rays mirrored across the horizon. She would bury her feet in the sand, letting the seafoam lick at her ankles as birds called overhead. It wouldn’t be long until she felt a presence beside her, the comforting pressure of arms wrapped around her middle that bled in from reality.

This morning the feeling was just that: a feeling. She shook her head, laughing to herself about her chronic morning-person of a husband. It was hard not to think of his teasing words as she pulled her limbs back towards her body at the center of the mattress. She rubbed out a crick in her neck before pulling open the curtains and letting the sun shine into the room.

Humming a light tune, she padded a few feet down the hall to the next room over where she opened the door just a touch to peek in. Her heart leapt in seeing the empty bassinet until she remembered the abandoned space in her own bed. She couldn’t say she was used to their routine but six months of it almost daily was starting to ease her panic. Over a year ago, for the second time in her life, Finnick held her as she cried–this time tears of joy–and nine months later their little starfish was brought into the world during a storm that drowned her screams.

With her own stomach rumbling, she set off to the kitchen to prepare a bottle, something Finnick still hadn’t mastered as he’d rather let the bottle get ice cold than risk any pain to their daughter. He’d been especially careful in everything he did since their daughter was born, their household of two made a family of three; from baby-proofing the house, reading the limited parenting resources he could get his hands on and above all, keeping the both of them within reach at all time, safe in his care. As a gesture to both their future as a family and their newfound freedom, he’d discarded his trident, a sign of all that he had done, been forced to do, in the remnants of the Capitol.

Filling the kettle at the sink, she could just make out the form of her husband, cradling their baby girl out by the shore, through the window. Before returning to the stove, she opened the window to tend to her flowers, a window box secured by Finnick at the start of the season was full of blooming Primroses after Peeta sent seeds in one of his letters. Though she was never close to Katniss, she had grown to know her sister while she recovered in District 13 alongside Peeta. The girl was caring and had impeccable bedside manner, her hands steady when changing her IV, smiles came easy when she saw the bobbing blonde head of the littlest Everdeen sister. It was terrible what happened, she had been walking close behind Katniss when they tried to infiltrate the Presidential Palace, then the first round of bombs hit…the second.

She closed the window with a sigh and put the kettle on the burner. At the table there was a short stack of open mail, a rarity considering all that had happened, which Finnick had already sorted through. She smiled to herself, recognizing Peeta’s blocky script even before picking up the letter, an extra blush spreading across her cheeks at the greeting to the Odairs. It was mostly business as usual, Peeta filling them in on their simple life in 12 and in turn asking about them, especially now that they had a little one to update on. A year had passed since Katniss and Peeta visited and four since they backed Katniss’ decision to take down Coin and thus inciting their exile. It was a privilege to have anyone to share their pregnancy with, most of all given what they’d been through and lost to get there.

She was about to put the letter in the drawer with the rest when she saw the small scrawls on the bottom of the page.

‘Saw this and thought of you, then of her but Peeta didn’t approve. Good luck - Katniss’

Riffling through the pile of mail, she couldn’t figure out what the note was referring to but she didn’t often know what Katniss was referring to; better to ask Finnick later. She grabbed the warmed bottle and stuffed the letter in her pocket to bring with her before slipping out the back, the screen door creaking closed behind her.

The morning was beautiful, a cool breeze contrasting the already warming sand, with rays of sunlight just finally rinsing fully above the horizon. Her bare feet sunk into the uneven ground, as she made her way towards her husband and daughter who watched the waves together.

“Here, breakfast.” She placed the bottle in his awaiting hand, taking a seat next to him on the blanket he had laid out.

“Oh, thanks. I hadn’t eaten.” She rolled her eyes at him and his smug smile. They sat a while in a comfortable silence as their daughter ate, falling back into a slumber with a full belly when the bottle was gone.

Pulling the letter out of her pocket, she handed it to him, absentmindedly stroking her daughter's silk soft hair, “Did you see this?”

Finnick chuckled softly, “I’m sure Peeta was mortified but I thought it was funny.” She raised an eyebrow at him as he slowly pulled back the blanket their daughter was comfortably swaddled in. They both braced for her to wake but as Finnick carefully shifted to show his wife, she only clung to her prize tighter and let out a sleepy breath. Cuddled in her daughter’s arms was a small stuffed bear, the mouth a zigzag of white stitching mimicking teeth. She used to think if she ever saw a bear again it’d be too soon but looking down at the stuffie clutched in her daughter’s tiny hands she couldn’t help but smile.

“Never thought Kat would be the one with a sense of humor, huh? You two are too alike,” She huffed with a smile, shaking her head in disbelief.

He hummed in response, “You know she hates when you call her that.”

“And you hate it when Peeta calls you Finn but here we are,” She followed Finnick’s gaze as smiled down at the dozing infant, too lost to truly hear her, “Here we are.” Save for the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the beach around them seemed to disappear, their small family the only thing in the world. Her heart clenched in her chest, still seeing that nineteen year old boy who had taken a chance on her even behind the worry lines and the scars. It was a miracle that they were here at all–the odds stacked against them from the beginning–let alone together in the life that they had made.

The air was heavy for a moment, Finnick on the verge of saying something multiple times before he finally got out, “I never thought we’d get this. Especially not her,” He clutched the baby tighter to his chest, kissing her forehead before inhaling deeply, “not after we lost–”

“We lost…a lot, and I never thought I’d want what I have, but I’m happy.” Finnick stared up at her, a familiar and unsure expression that often crossed his face, even after all this time, as if to ask, ‘are you sure?’ She reached to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair back in place, landing with her head resting on his shoulder. “I love our family, you and Ondine.”

“Our little wave.”

In an attempt to break the tension, she huffed a sigh, “Doesn't feel so little when you have to push her out of your…” She trailed off mumbling to herself as she began to stand up. “Let’s go, I’m starving, and you’re cooking!” Before she managed to take a step, she was pulled back by a hand clutching the hem of her shirt.

“We got this too,” Finnick fished another piece of mail from his back pocket, not bothering to make eye contact as he handed it over and immediately turned his attention back to his daughter. She eyed him suspiciously before taking the cardstock, his demeanor suddenly tense. The page was covered from top to bottom in words, some she didn’t even know and when she looked up from it Finnick was already awaiting her reaction. The confusion must’ve been clear on her face, for he explained, “It basically says…we can go.”

“Go where?”

Finnick held their daughter tighter to his chest, stroking her cheek as he answered, “Our exile is over. Katniss and Peeta’s too.” He was biting his lip, his brows furrowed. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, urging him to look at her.

“Go where?”

Finnick sighed, “Home? Back to 4.” She tipped his chin up with her index finger gazing into his worrisome eyes. With her thumb, she smoothed out the wrinkle between his eyebrows, something that never failed to make him laugh.

Her whole life sat before her, the culmination of all that she’d experienced and everything that she shouldn’t have survived. Every step of the way they had tried to tell her story, the twists and turns and all the endings, happily ever after written out for her when martyrdom didn’t cut it. But for the first time in her life, the pages ahead were blank and she was the one with the pen. She managed to have it all: her life, her family and now, her freedom. Looking around at what her and Finnick had built together, she smiled, her heart clenching and eyes watering at the realization.

“We are home.”

|Masterlist| |Previous Chapter|

210 notes · View notes

chizups · 1 month ago

Text

I enter this small church, and it’s all like a fever dream: light suddenly changes, people’s faces get blurry, then their whole bodies are erased from existence. Maybe it’s just my broken wicked perception of the reality I found myself in, but Father is still there, the only one, and when turned to me, he seems to be confused as well. So, I guess this one time we share the feeling finally. Oh, how much I hate this man, yet reasons for this hatred are unclear to me, and despite feeling this anger boiling hot within myself, I have an understanding most perfect: as much as I am furious, I am enchanted by his person. But Father looks concerned. Must be because I walk towards him screaming words of hate and resentment, curses and cries of the disoriented and afraid. And the more steps I take, the closer I am to the verge of my tears spilling. Does he even get what I’m saying? Could he understand? No, he doesn’t! No men do! I’m telling him how lost I feel, how scared I am, that I was left alone by someone I do not even remember, but whoever it was, I loved them dearly. And this nearest and dearest of mine left me here, threw me at Joseph’s feet like an unwanted child, and somehow this is Joseph’s fault, because someone is to blame and there is no other name, I am able to hear in my head or outside of it. I feel something changing behind my back. Scenery shifting, windows are moving on the walls, that are melting in places where only I can see, and Joseph doesn’t notice, though I can’t be sure if any of this actually happening. My body is contorting when I make more steps and I shed more tears. Did I do something wrong to be left like that? What was it? For such a cruel fate of not even knowing my own name, walking through life with a pain not just in my heart, but my soul. Unexplainable. Unceasing. Incurable by any men, including Father. He just talks and talks, like any other does. To shut his lying mouth will be a pleasure and a great service to all. Wish I was able to raise my hand… And I do. His tall figure blackens in my tired watery eyes, his silhouette gets fuzzy, noisy, and for a few moments he looks or rather feels so much more familiar to me, so dear. For these few moments I know this person, I love this person I come towards. I raise my arms, but not to strike down an enemy of mine. He opens his embrace for me, my shivering body almost falls into the black noise, and it closes around me, covers my shoulders, strokes my unkept hair, pushes my face into it’s chest. I do feel safe in here. I close my eyes, trying to capture this sense of being accepted, protected, understood by that… silhouette of someone I knew. This is someone I miss. A person I broke my heart over. Then I feel buttons under my cheek. That shirt I pressed against turned white again. That’s Father hugging me.

- I’m sorry, Father, - I cry with a whisper, - I’m so sorry, I don’t feel well. I’m so lost.

- You were lost. I found you.

There are sun rays coming through the stained glass. What was I talking about again?..

#far cry 5 #joseph seed #fanfiction #oc: restless mina #fc5 Twisted Untitled

16 notes · View notes

fnafwritings · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write Sun or Moon comforting the reader while theyre having a panic attack? 🥺

You’re not quite sure how you even ended up in the daycare in all honesty.

It’s not as if you had anywhere particular in mind, so you could have ended up almost anywhere and would have been just as confused—but the daycare seemed… better. Quieter. It shut down a few hours before the rest of the facility so that it could be cleaned and prepared for the next business day, so it meant that all of the kids had been picked up; no screaming, no noises, no blaring horns or overdriven guitars.

It was quiet.

You needed quiet.

Whatever had set off the episode was a complete mystery, but the Pizzaplex had absolutely no shortage of sights, sounds and smells that would have set you tumbling over the edge of ‘okay’ and thoroughly into ‘spiraling anxiety attack’

Your chest was on fire, your thoughts were flying—no comfort came from the knowledge that you only had an hour or so left on your shift, and the general noise from the crowds still within the building only made you feel like you were suffocating. Not enough space, not enough air-

Not enough.

Whether by choice or fate of your footsteps, you slip through one of the back doors of the daycare so you can hide yourself away and lean against the wall. The supply rooms kept most of the extra toys and supplies and smelled too strongly of disinfectant to be perfect, but it was better than most options; even the bathrooms had speakers constantly pouring music and advertisements for one of the hundred things that the company wanted people to spend money on.

But none of that mattered right now.

Right now it is quiet and dark. You hadn’t bothered to turn the light on when you came into the room, so only the thin sliver of light from the hallway lit it up enough for you to find a sufficiently empty corner of the room to lean against the wall and slide down until you were sitting on the cold linoleum.

Nobody would find you here—you are safe. You are safe. You are safe.

The words echoed in your head, a fragile mantra to quell the vicious storm of thoughts and emotions sending a rapid heartbeat through your ears.

“And just whooo might you be?”

The voice, soft and almost lyrical, nearly made your heart stop. Before you could even try to hurry out and claim you’d made a mistake in finding the bathroom, there was already a presence kneeling beside you. The only light came through the bottom of the door and the small window out into the main daycare area, so couldn’t make out very much of the figure.

An animatronic—that much was obvious right off the bat by their size alone. Even crouched the figure was several feet high, towering over you with a lithe figure and looming red eyes that seemed to pierce through you. It didn't take more than a few moments to recognize them as the Daycare Attendant, the animatronic tasked with looking after the kids dropped off in the aforementioned daycare. You'd only seen them a few times, but weren't very familiar.

They... looked a little different from normal. Instead of a beaming face resembling a cartoonish sun, their face was divided by a crescent-shaped moon. There were some other minor differences, but it is their eyes that make you squirm beneath the gaze.

“S-sorry,” Is all you can stammer at first, voice shaky and quiet between shallow breaths. “I’m not—I’m just taking a b-break.”

The figure is silent for a few seconds, which at first is incredibly unnerving, at least until you realize they're looking at your chest—more specifically the employee ID card hanging from the lanyard around your neck. A moment passes, and you assume they're scanning the employee number on the front.

Finally they move, shifting fluidly so that they’re sitting cross-legged next to you, but it's the sound of your name that catches your attention most.

"Aren't you rather far from your station, little star?"

The endearment is one you've often heard within the daycare, a soft way to refer to the kids. And while you'd like to correct the animatronic on the diminutive nickname, something stops you. It... feels kinda nice.

"I..." the sound stills within your throat. Heart is still racing. "I work by the Fazcade."

"We know," they respond, words neither cold nor particularly comforting. "But you're nnnot supposed to be here. Naughty naughty."

They raise and waggle a finger in front of you as if they were scolding a child. You're not sure whether to feel offended or not by the gesture, but it's probably just because they're programmed to care for kids; and technically you really aren't supposed to be the dark storage room for a section of the building you weren't even assigned to.

"I'm sorry," the apology is repeated, and for a moment you worry if the daycare attendant is going to kick you out. "I'm not going to mess with anything, I just n-need a few moments."

The animatronic is silent, watching with that eerie gaze until you start to squirm again and your heartbeat picks up in tandem.

"I-... Everything was starting to get t-too loud, too... s-small."

"Sssmall?" the attendant inquired. Their low tone of voice carried a gentle note of concern.

Your eyes flick to the floor in something akin to embarrassment. How would an animatronic understand what an anxiety attack is? How do you even begin to explain the layers of emotion involved or how it makes your skin absolutely crawl at the thought of going back to that crowded noisy arcade for another entire hour?

Some time passes before you find the words to answer with. They're half-ready on your tongue when you look back up, but the daycare attendant has disappeared from where they had been sitting not even a minute before.

You blink.

Before the question of your sanity can even emerge from the murky pool of your inner thoughts, they return with a few quick, fluid steps. With one motion they sit down and reach out a closed hand towards you, something enclosed against their fingers and palm.

Extending a hand in turn is almost instinctual.

A heavy, metallic shape falls into your palm, a bit larger than a deck of cards.

"Turn it on," they say, tone low and raspy, but oddly comforting.

Though you fumble a bit in the low lighting, it doesn't take long for you to find a little toggle on the side of the item and click it over.

Slowly, softly, a tune begins to fill the air from your palms. It is very simple and bright, though it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the music and the item itself quickly after that.

"A music box?"

They were sold at the main entrance gift shop, but you had seen kids walking around with them after getting picked up from the daycare. Did they give them out? Why are they giving you one? The answer to the former is elusive, but the second one actually is quickly put to rest--the daycare attendant tilts their head quizzically to the side for a moment before letting out a low noise that you assume is akin to a chuckle. Can animatronics chuckle?

"Sssometimes the world is very scary," they say, a gentle hiss in the 'S' that you have to wonder is a verbal quirk or not, "but it's okay to be scared. It's very brave, in fact."

Ah. Another programmed response--again, you're not entirely surprised, given the fact that they have to care for children, so undoubtedly they had encountered something like this before.

A hand, much larger than your own and metallic, settles on the top of your head in a motion that, while surprising at first, feels rather nice.

"Didn't mean to frighten you," the attendant says, gently messaging their fingers against your head while trying not to mess up your hair. "This is... what often works for some of our wards."

Our? You certainly weren't in charge of any kids. The verbal error is quickly filed under the thoughts from before and largely forgotten as they continue to speak.

"Just focus on the musssic," they instruct, "and breathe slower. Don't worry about counting--nothing else exists right now little star. It is just you, me, and your little gift."

Quick, shallow breaths are hard to stop. It's as if your body is on overdrive, pulling itself by the strings from a complete and total meltdown.

But your chest begins to slow. Little by little. It doesn't help the racing thoughts in your brain or the feeling of being too cramped, but... it does help. The attendant coos at you in a low tone almost rhythmic against the repeating tune; normally you'd hate how the music cycled over and over again, but the repeated notes act almost like an anchor in the moment. Familiar. Safe. It is so tiny in your hands.

"Gooood," they hum. "You're doing a good job right nnnow, little star. Can you slow down that breathing a little more?"

Something inside you wants to follow the gentle instructions, so your breathing starts getting deeper, more prolonged and deliberate. At first it feels suffocating, but slowly... eventually... your heartbeat begins to even out to a healthy resting rate. The attendant presses their hand down a little more firmly on your head; not enough to hurt, but enough to feel the pressure distinctly. To focus on.

"Safe."

The word seems to melt into the gentle tune still echoing in the dark, empty room.

"You are sssafe. Nothing is going to hurt you. Weee're... riiiight... heeere."

The words mimic the mantra you had been trying to focus on ironically just before they found you, and it continues for... you're not quite sure how long, actually.

Minutes? An hour? All you know is at some point your phone starts buzzing in your pocket with a text message, and that almost startles you back to reality--but not in a way that tosses you right back into your spiral of anxiety. No, when you lift your eyes up and finally find breath and voice, it's with a renewed sense of stability and assurance.

The daycare attendant simply meets your gaze, though the once red eyes seem less unnerving and more lulling, and you can only imagine that this version of the attendant is to help putting the kids down to nap during the day.

"...Thank you," you finally whisper, and they pull their hand back from your head. A quick glance at your phone reveals that while it hasn't been an entire hour, twenty minutes seemed long enough.

"You should return to your area, little star."

With a nod, you slowly get up onto your wobbly feet and try to take a step; somehow your ankle doesn't bend quite the way its supposed to in order to catch your weight, and you nearly tumble onto the floor.

Only nearly because the attendant catches you, hands carefully on your shoulders and applying just enough pressure to keep you from tripping over your own feet.

"Shit," the word fumbles awkwardly out of your mouth. "Th-thank you... sir?"

"An acceptable title of formality," they say, affirming at least one new fact about them. "But you may call me Moon."

The realization of the animatronic having a name is more surprising than the sudden shift from plural to singular pronouns. But why? All of the other animatronics in the Pizzaplex had names and personalities... why couldn't this one?

"I... Thank you then, Moon." It is a fitting name, at least. But did they give it to themselves? Or was it simply something assigned so that kids had something easier to say when talking to them?

After a few moments to make sure you wouldn't trip again, you follow the thin trail of light towards the door. Just about to turn the knob, Moon's voice stops you with the sound of your name.

Peering back, you can't see much of Moon's figure, but their eyes peek out of the darkness, and their voice carries with it such a genuine sense of warmth that it lingers for hours afterward.

"Make sure to return... if things ever feel too loud again."

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf dca #fnaf moondrop #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fic #sfw fic #moon fic #dca fic #sfw #i love me a soft moon okay i think he's normally probably very good with kids; much less energy than sun #dca fandom #dca writing

95 notes · View notes

inactivewattpadauthor · 7 months ago

Text

Kabal x Reader: Usual Visit Part 2

I had fun with the first one so here you go :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Just make sure you take all of these in order before you sleep. Goodnight, sweetie." Your father had just finished organizing your medication for the night and giving you a soft goodnight kiss on your forehead before leaving you alone for the remainder of the night. You said your goodnights to him back before looking at the meds that was always essential at this time of night.

Taking a risk, you won't be taking them this time. Being heavily dosed could ruin your secret plan for tonight. Putting a light jacket over your nightgown, you sat in bed and waited at least ten minutes to be safe.

Praying the coast is clear and that everyone was asleep, you opened your window, peeking down at the dirt in hopes there'd be some sort of track left behind from earlier. Thankfully there was! Footprints from a certain man that lead somewhere from beyond. Tonight, you would go out the house for once and perhaps find your hero's secret lair. Better yet, maybe see him perform like he how he says he does in his stories.

You could help him even! Being Kabal's sidekick... Sounds fun! It meant getting to spend time with him even more, though you know you aren't supposed to be outside, especially at night.

---Time skip brought to you by Author herself sobbing and hyperventilating bc Fujin/Nightwolf still aren't playable in MK1---

You haven't a clue how long you've been walking, following the many footsteps of Kabal. You should've known it would take awhile. He's fast at an inhumane speed, of course his lair or whatever would be far as heck. But you pulled through for your friend, making it to some sketchy place that didn't look so kind.

Keeping a low profile, you can see big people with big guns... You didn't like this place at all. Maybe Kabal was here to take all of them down? No. He could've definitely did it already!

Sneaking in the suspicious place, you lurked around undetected until you could hear the familiar voice that made you feel safe. Along with some other one with a funny accent. Regardless, you found Kabal! Standing a few feet away behind him as he spoke to another man.

"Got my stack?"

"I do, Kabal. Why don't ya just slow down for a sec- who is that?" A shirtless man with a red eye and a funny mustache peered behind Kabal as he sees some small female in a nightgown just loitering near.

Kabal grows confused, turning to see who Kano spots and immediately, his hidden face hid all the fear that filled him within one second. He rushes to you, pulling you in, not in a hug, but more so like he was shielding you from the world.

"Shit-" He muttered under his breath. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?! Someone could have spotted you!"

You were just too naive to even hear the genuine shock and concern within Kabal's muffled voice, let alone knowing what could've happened if someone had caught you intruding. "I tracked your footsteps here! I have an idea! I could help you beat up bad guys! You know, be your sidekick!" Your eyes beamed up at him with pride. Yet, he was grimacing underneath the mask.

Focusing back to the other guy that watched you two with no interest, you were quick to jump to assumptions. Even correct ones...

"Is that a bad guy?!" You point at the red eyed man.

"Ohhh, yes, Sheila. I was actually just about to head off and eat one- mm, two puppies alive." Kano rolled his eyes. You took it serious though.

"Not if I knock you out first! Come here, ugly!" You were about to march to him before Kabal grabs you arm, not too hard, and pulls you back a bit.

"Y/n, Y/n, that's my boss."

You quickly stopped, feeling embarrassed. "Oh... So he's not bad?"

Kabal didn't answer the question, being hesitant to lie this one time. Fortunately for him, Kano spoke up, warning him.

"Look, I don't care who you mingle with outside of yer' job, just keep yer' pooch away from me markets." The Aussie said before going away. He seemed too sketchy to be the boss of a hero like Kabal.

"Who is he?" You looked at your masked friend with curious eyes. Kabal sighs, taking your hand gently.

"Don't mind him. You really shouldn't be here, princess."

Asking "why?" wasn't in your head, but you believed him. Though, everything was a little skeptical to you. This whole place gave off aura of bad people. Villains. It doesn't make too much sense why Kabal is in this place.

Oh well. He's taking you back home safely. Carrying you out the market and through the track you followed to even get here.

"Why aren't you going fast?" You pout as his careful speed.

"Trust me, if I went my typical speed with you on my back, you wouldn't take it too well." He chuckles, but doesn't explain it in detail.

Getting you to your house safely in the back, he opens your window for you and carefully lifts you to help you climb through it.

"Now, Y/n, I don't want you to sneak out to see me again." He sighs. "I know we don't spend that much time with each other, but I don't want you to get hurt."

"Okay." You don't argue with him, looking down.

A hand pats your hair. "I'll visit soon again. Just please stay here for me. It won't be too long, I promise."

Looking at him, you smile softly. "Okay." You repeat with a little more cheer. "Goodnight, Kabal." You lower your head down to give him your usual affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight, doll. See you soon." The speedy man responds again.

After you shut your window and blinds you could hear rushed winds go by, Kabal sprinting off in the night. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

#mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat imagines #mk headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #kabal #mk kabal #mk kano #kano #kano x reader #goddesswritings

20 notes · View notes